GLENLYON stretches in a westerly direction
between Appin of Dull and Tyndrum. It lies wholly in Perthshire,
having Rannoch running parallel on the north and Breadalbane on the
south. The road to Tyndrum not being open, as well as other reasons,
have hitherto caused this glen to be a little world by itself. The
scenery is unique, and beautiful throughout. The circular dale of
Fortingall, abounding in Druidic and Roman remains, forms the
vestibule, The traveller then enters the Pass of Chesthill, and for
three miles walks along the course of the Lyon, which,
hoarse-murmuring over its bed of honey-combed rocks, and now and
then hampered by cliffs jutting from either side, gives one, by its
twisting stream, crested with milky foam, the idea of a
half-strangled serpent wriggling along, wounded but menacing. Lofty
abrupt rocks, cloud-capped above, and covered with woods at their
base, adorn and complete the scene. Emerging from the Pass, our
traveller now reaches the inhabited places, the beginning of the
real glen. Its conformation may be generally described as a
succession of long "bends," the angles of which consist
of mountain spurs, that so closely approximate at
certain points as to make the beholder think he has attained his
goal, and that the little opening before him has no ulterior,
beyond, at best, a small mountain corrie. His astonishment increases
as he enters another and still another "bend," in generals so like,
but in particulars so dissimilar from, the preceding ones. Thus the
scene shifts from beginning to end, a distance in all of thirty
miles, while the average breadth is not much above two. The hills,
rising nearly perpendicular from the bed of the river, give the
whole glen its individuality of character; but the surface changes
continually from bare rocks to verdant green—from woods and purple
heath to the rich pasture of the braes, in summer almost white, from
the large intermixture of white bed-straw (Galium sexatile)
and eye-bright. The patches of arable ground, formed upon the
debris washed down by mountain streams, are very fertile, but
slow in ripening, as in most places the mountain tops intercept the
kindly sunbeams. In some places, indeed, the sun is not seen for
upwards of two months.
The present population does not exceed 600.
Within the memory of persons living, it was fully double this. The
population consists of large sheep-farmers, a few cottars and
tradesmen, with a very slight sprinkling of crofters or small
holders. There are an Established and a Free Church and their
respective schools, and also a Baptist meeting-place. Three
proprietors share among them the whole glen—R. S. Menzies, Esq. of
Culdares; J. S. Menzies, Esq. of Chesthill; and the Marquis of
Breadalbane. The last possesses the lands once held by the M'Gregors
of Roro, and in the braes which formerly made part of the royal
forest of Bendaskerly, of which an ancestor of that noble family,
Sir Duncan Campbell of Glenorchy, was appointed hereditary forester
by James VI.
The glen abounds in traditions and remains of the
Fin-galians. A chain of round towers stretches through its whole
length, which the people still call "Caistealan nam Fiann," castles
of the Fingalians. There is an old saying, "Bha da chaisteal dheug
aig Fionn an crom ghlean nan garbh chlach"—"Fingal had twelve
castles in the crooked glen of large stones." Most of these ruins
are to this day pointed out. There are five of them at the place
called Cashlie (castles), each bearing the name of a known Fingalian
chief. There can be little doubt these towers were used both for
protection and watch-towers, from which the approach of danger was
telegraphed far and near. It is no argument against the latter view,
that some of the towers were not within sight of others ; the
conformation of the country rendered it impossible, granting that
each dale and valley was held by its own tribe of inhabitants,
squatting round their tower. It was in general only requisite that,
when the messenger of war arrived, the chief, by displaying the
beacon light from the top of the tower, could gather his own
followers without loss of time. In confirmation of this view, we
find that a tower, which is in sight of no other one, still commands
the whole glen or section of a glen in which it is placed.
The chain of towers between Dunkeld and the
borders of Argyleshire must have been of much consequence, indeed,
in the pre-historic annals of Scotland. There seems little doubt
this was the Drumalban of later historians. A passage in a poem by
the bard Douthal, on Mordubh, king of the Caledonians, still extant,
speaks of Drumalban and the beacon light as follows:—
"Tionailibh mo shuin o'n t'-sei!g,"
Thubhairt Ceann-feadhna na' h-Alba.
"Soillsichibh srad air Druim-Feinne,
Is thig mo laoich o ghruaidh gach beinne."
Labhair Mordubh righ nan srath,
'S lionair crag tha 'g-innseadh an sgeul.
"Cal my heroes from the chase," said the Captain
of Scotland. "Light a spark on Druim-Feinne (the high top of the
Fingalians—viz., Drumalban), and my warriors shall come from the
side of each hill. Mordubh, King of Straths, thus spoke, and many a
crag tells the tale." Captain of Scotland —such is the title given
to Mordubh as generalissimo in the war, while his personal and
ordinary rank was King of Straths. King, in those days, was a name
assumed by any chief that had a decent following. The long bead-roll
of Caledonian kings anterior to Kenneth, was likely, to a
considerable extent, made up of the names of so many independent
chiefs, who, one way or another, made themselves remarkable in their
day, and many of whom must have lived contemporaneously, and of whom
few, perhaps, merited the title of king, in the sense in which the
annalists, misled by the unity of their own times, so liberally
bestowed it, so as, indeed, to destroy the authority of their story.
Glenlyon is a mine of legends, or was so a few
years before it was "swept." We may give a few in passing; but our
principal object is to gather in one record the chief events in the
traditional history of a family that one unfortunate circumstance
made too notorious in the history of Scotland— the Campbells of
Glenlyon. Before coming to the Lairds, however, it is necessary to
pay homage to Holy Mother Kirk, and relate the
LEGEND OF ST. EONAN.
St. Eonan (as tradition says) was the disciple of
St. Columba, but more correctly an alumnus of the Monastery of Iona,
founded by St. Columba about 565. St. Eonan set out in company with
St. Fillan to instruct the rude inhabitants of the Grampians in the
doctrines of Christianity. The whole land lay before them, and—like
the patriarchs of old, casting lots—Strathfillan, Balquhidder, &c,
fell to St. Fillan; Glenlyon and its neighbourhood to Eonan.
Civilization, of yore as now, followed in the wake of the religion
of the cross. Both saints, in their different abodes, recommended
their spiritual doctrines to the people, by showing they could
better their temporal state. Fillan erected the mill at Killin;
Eonan that of Milton Eonan in Glenlyon. During Eonan's sojourn in
the place of his pilgrimage, one of the dreadful plagues that then
so often depopulated Europe, broke out over Scotland. At Fortingall
it made such ravage that only one survived—"an Ossian after the
Fenians." This was an old woman, who performed the duties of sexton,
conveying the dead, by her grey horse and sledge, into one hollow
over which a heap of stones was aftenvards raised, still to be seen
in the Haugh of Fortingall, and called the " Cairn of the Dead.''
What became of the heroine of the grey horse, our Sennachies forget
to tell; but they say the desert dale of Fortingall was subsequently
repeopled by a colony of the M'Dougals of Lorn, many of whose
descendants are still found there. As the plague extended up the
glen, St. Eonan's people despairing of all human rescue bethought
themselves of the spiritual aid of their pastor, whose good help
they importuned in the following lines :—
Eonan nan gruaidhean dearg
Eirich, is caisg plaigh do shluaigh;
Saor sinne bho'n Bhas
Is na leig oirnn e nios no 'n nuas.
"Eonan of the ruddy cheeks, rise and check the
plague of thy people. Save us from the death, and let it not come
upon us east or west." However unreasonable the request, the prudent
missionary found it expedient to temporise. He assembled the people.
The meeting was held in the open air, within forty yards of a house
in which a young child was dying of the plague. He preached with
success the gospel of peace to the excited and horrified multitude.
He took, at the same time, all precautions within his reach,
separating the sound from the unsound, and did not hesitate himself
to discharge the duties of attendance on the dying, while he sent
their relations away to the mountain sheilings. The plague soon
stopped, and the people, of course, ascribed their safety to the
miraculous power of the saint. The rock on which he prayed and
preached in that dreadful crisis is called Craig-dianaidh—i.e., "rock
of safety." A rude cross, set up by the wayside, was probably
erected at a later period, to excite the devotions of the faithful.
The rock was henceforward the place where neighbouring chiefs could
most safely meet in solemn conclave, both for judicial and other
purposes. Here was held the meeting, in which the chief of the
M'lvors, having refused to do justice to the foster-brother of
Stewart of Garth, brought upon himself the fate related at length by
General Stewart in his Sketches of the Highlanders. Near the
rock is Bodach Chraig-dianaidh, a large round stone, which is
to be placed on another flat one some feet high. While the seniors
were in council grave, the young men, it is probable, were putting
their strength to the test in lifting the Bodach. There are at least
two other similar stones in the glen—one at Cashlie, eight miles
farther up; and one at Lochs. Fingal, the grey-haired King of Morven,
would, it is said, allow no youth to bear the warlike spear, or join
the ranks of war until he lifted one of the Bodachs.
When Eonan was dying, his people assembled to
receive his blessing, and asked where he wished to be buried. He
made the singular request that they should carry his corpse down the
water until the withs that attached the handspikes to the bier
broke, and there bury him. Faithful to their trust, they proceeded
downwards and downwards with the remains of the saint, till the "dul"
or withs broke at Dull, where St. Eonan was buried, and to which he
bequeathed a name, and the potent magic of his sanctity. We find, at
the end of the tenth century, the Abthania of Dull —a singular word,
that puzzled eminent antiquaries—possessed by Crynyn, "Abthane of
Dull, and Seneschal of the Isles," who, as the father of Duncan
(slain by Macbeth), and husband of Beatrix, daughter of King
Malcolm, was the progenitor of a long line of princes. Doubtful
tradition says that Dull was the first seminary of education on the
mainland, and that, long before Kilreymonth or St. Andrews merged
into light, the Caledonian youths there imbibed the learning of
ancient Rome, and the comparatively pure doctrines of the monks of
Iona.
The saint's day was commemorated till of late by
St. Eonan's Fair at Dull. Strange that religion should, in every
case, be so ready to slide into worldly business and pleasure! The
traffickers in the temple, and the caravans of Mecca, are familiar
examples; and it would be instructive to inquire how many of the
shrines of Catholic saints have conferred benefits on the world by
becoming the centres of profane markets.
The little chapel built by St. Eonan, near the
Bridge of Balgie, was pulled down in the fourteenth century, and a
new one erected at a few hundred yards' distance, in the
burial-place of Brennudh. The old pyramidal hand-bell, used at the
religious ceremonies, is still preserved in the burial-ground.
Within forty years ago, the miller at Milton Eonan would not grind
on the saint's day, and a similar rest was, till of late, observed
at Killin on the day of St. Fillan. |