THE tourist who takes
shipping at Oban with the intention of passing through the Sound of Mull
cannot fail to observe the picturesque ruins of Castle Duart, which stand
on a promontory of the island of Mull, immediately opposite Lismore. The
situation occupied by these remains exhibits the chief characteristics of
Highland maritime scenery, and would be worthy of attention even were
there no historical memories connected with it. The Point of Duart has
been formed by the wash of the Atlantic Ocean rushing through the Sound of
Mull, and the rugged peak which it exposes to the confined course of this
current diverts its energy northwards to the indented shores of Loch
Linnhe, to the coast of Morven, and to the islets around Lismore. The
channel between this point and the nearest land is about four miles wide;
and as the Castle is exposed to all the fury of the northern gales which
swoop down upon it from Loch Linnhe, the wildness of the surrounding
scenery may be easily imagined. The hundred peaks of Argyllshire stand out
boldly against the horizon, while the shore on either side of the Sound of
Mull is dotted with the remains of ancient Keeps and Castles, the relics
of the stern feudal system which once obtained in the district, the
deserted strongholds of some of the Highland Clans that are now scattered
throughout the wide world. And as the rude rocks which line the shores
tell the story to him who can read aright of volcanic upheavals and
commotions which have altered the face of Nature in pre-historic times, so
these silent ruins speak eloquently of fierce revolutions in the history
of man, and, like enduring monuments, indicate the progress and
development of civilization. They tell of times :—
"When sullen Ignorance
her flag displayed,
And Rapine and Revenge her voice obeyed."
But they also show by the
very helplessness of their condition that the days of their years are
fled, and their former glory has departed. The races which have compelled
a subsistence from these barren hills, or wrested their means of support
from the raging sea, have vanished from this scene, and left little behind
them save the names which may be preserved in history, and the desolate
ruins which become the wonder of succeeding generations :—
"All ruined and wild
is their roofless abode,
And lonely the dark raven’s sheltering tree;
And travelled by few is the grass-covered road
Where the hunter of deer and the warrior trode
To his hills that encircle the sea."
Amongst the Clans which
formerly inhabited this quarter none was more famous than that of the
Macleans, whose feudal stronghold was Castle Duart. By personal prowess
they had extended their possessions, and by judicious intermarriages they
had increased their power, until there were few amongst the western chiefs
that could compete with them. And as every Highlander inherits the notion
that his Clan was designed by Providence to lead all others, it was
natural that the Macleans should be at feud with those who were not their
vassals and inferiors. The situation of their Castle was peculiarly
favourable for the development of their ambitions hopes, and they soon
found that there were no "foemen worthy of their steel" in the whole
island of Mull.
These marriage connections,
however skilfully devised, sometimes brought the Macleans into serious
difficulties. Their relations with the Clan Campbell, for instance, were
at once put upon a war-footing by the brutal conduct of Lachlan Maclean
towards his wife, a daughter of the Earl of Argyll, which true story is
narrated further on in this notice as connected with the Lady’s Rock,
which stands about midway in the channel between Duart Point and Lismore.
It is impossible to give an
accurate date for the erection of the oldest part of Duart Castle. There
probably was an original Keep on the site of the present Castle, a portion
of which, still in existence, has been adopted in the later erection. This
part has high and massive walls, varying from 10 to 15 feet thick, which
enclose what is now the courtyard. The Castle was probably founded by
Lauchlan Maclean, surnamed Lubanach, about the year 1366, in which year he
married Margaret, daughter of MacDonald, first Lord of the Isles. As
Maclean of Duart, he and his successors for a long time were heritable
Keepers of many Castles in the district, and had many possessions both on
the mainland and in the Western Isles. The first reference to the Castle
in documents is dated 1392, but the building was not completely finished
till the time of Hector Mor Maclean, about 1560, and this Chief also
married Mary, daughter of Alexander Macdonald, then Lord of the Isles,
whose seat was at Isla. From a comparison of the architecture of different
parts of the Castle, it appears that the Great Tower was erected by this
Hector Mor Maclean.
The MacDonalds had made
common cause with. the Macleans against the rising power of the Campbells
of Argyll, but their alliance was short-lived. The Chief of the
MacDonald’s had formed an expedition along with Maclean of Duart, and they
had ravaged some of the richest territories belonging to the Campbells.
But the son of the Chief of the MacDonalds afterwards married a daughter
of the second Earl of Argyll, and he thus became the enemy of Maclean. A
curious complication arose later, when Sir Lachlan Mor Maclean sought to
end the contest with the Campbells by wedding Lady Elizabeth Campbell,
another of the daughters of the second Earl of Argyll, and sister of the
third Earl.
The ambition of Maclean was
unbounded, and though his alliance with the House of Argyll ensured to him
the peaceable possession of his heritage, he was not content with it. When
Sir Donald MacDonald of Lochalsh sought to have himself proclaimed as Lord
of the Isles, Maclean threw up his connection with his brother-in-law
Argyll, and against the latter’s advice, he stirred up an insurrection in
the Hebrides. The powerful influence of Colin, third Earl of Argyll, whose
first duty after his accession was to take up arms against his relative
Maclean, at length quelled the turmoil. Maclean, however, seems never to
have forgiven Argyll for his share in the affair, and determined to wreak
his vengeance upon his own wife. History is not very clear as to the
character of Lady Elizabeth; for whilst one account makes her to appear
almost in the light of a martyred saint, the other asserts that she had
twice attempted to take away her husband’s life. On thing is certain—that
the misfortune of barrenness was magnified into a crime by the lawless
Highland Chief, and he determined to effect her destruction.
The method which he adopted
exhibited the refinement of savage cruelty. Off the coast of Mull, as
already explained, there is still shown the bare and solitary rock which
her lord determined should make her pathway to heaven. Fringed with
sea-weed, and ever moist with the lapping waters which cover the surface
entirely at flood-tide, this lone rock might well scare the high-born
lady, whose brutal husband led her here to endure the agonies of a slow
and torturing death. One may imagine the fearful forebodings of the Lady
Elizabeth as the advancing waters by their resistless march bore her
nearer and nearer to her doom. At length, when despair had all but seized
her, she noticed a little boat upon the waters, whose occupants replied to
her frantic signals of distress. They drew near, and to her infinite joy
she beheld the faces of some of her own clansmen, whom Providence had sent
to her rescue when in extremity. They bore her swiftly away to her
brother’s house, and restored her, weeping, to the shade of the paternal
roof-tree.
The Campbells arose in a
body to demand retribution, but the politic Earl did not care to press his
brother-in-law too severely. The task of revenge fell therefore upon Sir
John Campbell of Cawdor, whose courage kept pace with his impetuosity. Not
long after, having heard that Maclean was in Edinburgh, Campbell hastened
there, entered his lodgings, and slew him as he lay in bed, scorning to
give him even the privilege of defence, since his intended murder of his
wife had disgraced him as a Knight. As might have been foreseen, this rash
deed at once drove the two clans to arms, and only the interposition of
the Government prevented much useless bloodshed. Upon this strange story
Thomas Campbell, the poet, founded his poem of "Glenara." which, though
sacrificing facts for the sake of the poetry, is substantially correct
I dreamed
of my lady, I dreamed of her grief,
I dreamed that her lord was a
barbarous Chief;
On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem—
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!’
In dust low the traitor has knelt on
the ground;
And the desert revealed where the lady was found;
From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne;
Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn!"
Joanna Baillie made this
story the subject of one of her "Plays of Passion," under the title of "A
Family Legend," but used some poetic licence as to the details. The facts
as recorded above are beyond dispute. |