Strathnaver

By Drew Scott

In the 17th, century the Massacre of Glencoe laid the foundation for hatred between the Campbell’s and the MacDonald’s. Early in the 19th, century a young girl, Katriona Campbell, daughter of Sir Gordon Campbell, head of one of the clans in Northern Scotland, has romantic illusions about a young man she repeatedly sees on a hillside near a Loch, although never actually meeting with him. It is not till one day she falls from her horse, hitting her head on a rock, leaving her with loss of memory, and is rescued by the young man, that she becomes involved with him. He is Donald MacDonald a true descendant of MacIain of Glencoe.
The story is both factual and fictional as it deals with some of the Highland Clearances that took place around 1813/14, particularly the time when Patrick Sellar who worked for the Duke of Sutherland was responsible for the burning of Strathnaver, in which two of its residents died.
Donald marries her while she has lost her memory. Having spent only two weeks in the married state he is arrested for a previous attack on a man while trying to defend himself. He is sent to the colonies on an emigrant ship and lands in Pictou, Nova Scotia where he stays until the verdict on him is overturned, because of perjury on the part of the man attacked.
Katriona, however, is now pregnant and when her memory is restored she is still happy to be married to Donald. This is not how her father feels about a Campbell being married to a MacDonald. He falls out with her, throws her out of the family home, along with her Nanny, Elspeth, who has looked after her since she was four years old. He could lose his position as head of his part of the clan in Northern Scotland. His actions are taken into question by the four other clan leaders in Scotland. His opinion of the Glencoe Massacre makes him decide that an end needs to occur for the clans to live together in peace, once and for all. His pleas bring an end to the feud.
Katriona gets kidnapped by two men, one who had been previously attacked by Donald. During this ordeal she almost loses the baby but it is saved by the kidnapper as he takes a doctor by force to look after her until he gets a ransom of gold sovereigns from her father. Sir Gordon has had a change of heart, and wants his daughter back. He pays up willingly and eventually she is restored to him. Donald is returned from Nova Scotia and they are finally united again but not without a dramatic end to the story when one of the kidnappers, who hadn’t been caught, attempts to leave the country on the same boat, Donald, Katriona and her father are onboard, heading for a new life in Nova Scotia. Donald almost loses his life as the kidnapper attempts to take the baby as hostage so he can escape. A dramatic end to this factual and fictional story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drew Scott
• Release date: May 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310599767

Book preview

STRATHNAVER

By

Drew Scott

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2016 by Drew Scott

All Rights Reserved.

Prologue

1692 was a black year in Scottish History. The infamous massacre that took place in Glencoe began when the Campbell’s needed an excuse to eliminate their long-standing enemies, the MacDonald’s led by their clan leader MacIain of Glencoe (The Old Fox) the illegitimate son of Angus Og MacDonald of Islay. Campbell, Earl Of Breadalbane, proposed their massacre. To accomplish this, Campbell needed a friend in high places. That friend was the Master of Stair, and Scottish Secretary, Sir John Dalrymple. To him they were just thieves and robbers. It would be much easier to rule the country if they could be exterminated. Writing to the commander-in-chief in Scotland he is reported as stating ‘It’s a great work of charity to be exact in rooting out that damnable sect, the worst in all the Highlands.’ On January 7th, 1692, Sir John gave that order to the army to destroy the Clan of the MacDonald’s in Glencoe.

On the morning of February the 13th, troops were expected to block both ends of the pass. They never arrived. Nevertheless, at 5 o’clock in the morning the soldiers turned on their hosts, as ordered. They went from cottage to cottage slaughtering the MacDonald’s as they slept in their beds at the same time setting light to their houses.

Many of the clan escaped in the confusion that followed. Of the possible 150 MacDonald’s who lived there, only 38 were killed, 34 men, including one of 80, two women and two children. At least the same number died in the cold hills they had fled to. The massacre of Glencoe was the most foul and barbaric deed in the history of Clan murder. How many of the Old Fox’s sons survived, is not known but at least one possibly did.

Those who managed to survive and move north out of Glencoe found themselves wandering through sharp gullies, widening as they descended. Water over the centuries has made its way through this ‘Valley of the Shadow’ as Macaulay described it. It is a grey and hopeless place, a landscape without mercy. To quote Charles Dickens he wrote ’Glencoe is perfectly terrible. The pass is an awful place. Glens high up from such haunts as you might imagine yourself wandering in, in the very height and madness of a fever.’

So they wandered on. A truly horrific period in Scottish history. Had the Campbell’s declared war on the MacDonald’s perhaps this would have been more acceptable.

One family settled eventually near Loch Naver in Sutherland where they bore children and kept the name of MacDonald alive. By the early part of the nineteenth century the harsh climate had taken its toll, reducing this family to one old Grandmother and two Grandsons.

The Massacre of Glencoe had been a botched affair that caused a National outrage. From that dark year in 1692 there has been no love between the Campbell’s and the MacDonald’s, until 121 years later in 1813 when a young man and a young woman met on a hillside near the village of Strathnaver.

Chapter 1

Katriona raced through the Great Hall of the castle intending to leave before her father could question her where she was off to at such an early hour. At just 18 years of age she was a high spirited girl the only child of Sir Gordon Campbell one of the five richest landowners in Northern Scotland. Her heart beat faster as she reached the courtyard heading for the stables where her black stallion, Scipio was being saddled by Thomas, one of the hands. On reaching the stable she hurriedly grabbed her skirt between her legs tucking it in to her waist.

All ready, Miss.

Thanks, Thomas, now help me up.

Aye, Miss, right away.

Thomas took her hand and held Scipio as she climbed into the saddle. For Thomas, this was the highlight of his day. To hold her hand was the nearest thing to sheer pleasure he could ever imagine. Katriona smiled at him as she raced out of the stables. She knew what he was thinking and it gave her a sense of pleasure to know that she affected men in this way. With her titian coloured hair flowing in the wind she galloped towards the portcullis that had been raised earlier by Thomas. She had almost reached it when there was a shout from her father who was standing at an open upper window looking down with a look of disbelief on his face. Katriona! Where are you off to at this unearthly hour?

It’s not early father and I want to ride before breakfast. It gives me an appetite. She called back as she reigned in Scipio to a walk as she approached the portcullis.

I want to talk to you.

Later, father. I want to ride now.

One hour, no longer.

Yes, father. She shouted back as she spurred Scipio on through the gate out into the hills heading for Loch Naver.

She knew he would be there. Who was he? If she stayed close to the loch she could just catch a glimpse of him lying on the hillside. Why he came so early in the morning to this lonely spot she did not know, but it gave her such pleasure as she galloped through the glen occasionally reigning in to see if he had been watching her. He would sit up resting his elbow in the bracken looking down at her, then when he saw she had noticed him he would hurriedly lie down again as if he was totally uninterested. She knew he wasn’t. The thrill that ran through her body was indescribable. Every morning she reached this spot convinced her that she was going to fall in love at last with a man that she would choose, not her father. It would only be a matter of time before she found out who he was, then she would be free of the obligation her father was placing on her to marry someone of the same social standing and years older than she was. Maybe the young man she could see was of similar breeding to herself. Only time would tell.

Heading Scipio at breakneck speed she raced along the banks of the loch occasionally turning her head to see him. Satisfied that she had caught his attention again she reigned in and turning back, headed home to the castle knowing that soon she would know who he was.

Thomas was waiting for her as she rode into the courtyard and dismounted with the eager help of his hand. She smiled and ran quickly through the Great Hall into the breakfast room where she knew her father would be waiting.

Sir Gordon Campbell was sitting at the breakfast table with another man unknown to Katriona. As she approached they both stood up.

Katriona, my dear, I want you to meet Mr. Sellars. He works for the Countess of Sutherland and is here on a very important mission.

Really father, how interesting. I’m starving. I must have breakfast. Riding gives me a huge appetite.

I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Campbell. Patrick Sellars said unable to take his eyes off her as she moved towards the buffet table where porridge, smoked kippers, eggs, bacon and toast were laid out

Father, why don’t I take my breakfast through to the kitchen and leave you to your discussion with Mr. Sellars? Katriona said turning her head away from them as she took a tray filled to capacity.

No, my dear, I want you to know that Mr. Sellars here has been assigned to deal with a situation near the loch where you ride. Please sit down with us so that you will be aware of the problem.

Katriona was now interested and laid her tray carefully down on the breakfast table sitting down opposite Sellars.

Sellars looked slightly embarrassed as he cleared his throat to speak. Katriona watched him with her large brown eyes fixed on his, making him fidget with his plate.

It’s not that there is any problem with your riding there, Miss Campbell. It’s just that the land round the loch and up to the village of Strathnaver belongs to the Countess. Your father’s land ends well before the loch.

So you are saying I cannot ride there anymore?

No, not that Miss Campbell, it’s just that the Countess of Sutherland has given me certain instructions regarding the land there and it would be in your best interests to stay away from there for the time being.

Why?

Sellars looked appealingly at Campbell.

Katriona, Mr. Sellars is just helping us to see that things are changing in the highlands. The village of Strathnaver stands on some of the best pasture land for grazing sheep.

So. Katriona said petulantly. What have sheep got to do with my riding there?

Things are going to change there soon. It would be better if you rode Scipio elsewhere.

But, father. I love to ride round the loch.

I know, but soon you won’t be able to.

How soon?

Sellars said:

Very soon, Miss. The Duke has given me instructions to vacate the area sometime after the next rent day.

When will that be? Katriona asked.

January the fifteenth. Then they will have time when the spring arrives, to move out.

But that’s next year. Katriona protested.

Indeed, so that is why I have given your father plenty of notice so that there will be no misunderstanding when we clear the land.

Again Katriona protested:

How do you propose to clear the land and the village?

Campbell interrupted their bickering:

Everyone is being moved to better land, North, near Bettyhill.

Katriona fumed:

It’s monstrous. You can’t allow it father.

Not my land, my dear. As you know the Countess and the Duke have been moving sheep in over much of their land for some time now. They are making much more money out of the sheep, from the wool and the mutton.

Greed, that’s all it is, sheer greed.

Sellars said:

No, Miss, it’s merely economics. The people of Strathnaver never pay enough for the land they occupy. It is much more practical to move them out and move the sheep in.

Katriona said:

The sheep will die there. There is no grass for them to feed on, only bracken and heath.

Sellars continued:

As soon as the snow melts in the spring, I will instruct my Shepherd to burn the dead heath so that cotton grass and deer hair can grow quickly for the coming sheep. It’s when the burning takes place I warned your father of the danger riding in that area. Sellars said.

Katriona stood up decidedly upset by the conversation. She pushed her breakfast that had now become cold, away from her at the same time glaring at this perpetrator of bad news.

Then, Mr. Sellars, I have until the Spring to ride my horse, which I will do with or without permission.

With that she stormed out of the room.

Campbell spoke:

I’ll speak to her, Mr. Sellars. She is a little hot headed at times. I’m sure she’ll come round. Please convey my regard to the Countess and the Duke. Thank them for informing us of their plans.

With that, Campbell ushered Sellars out then went looking for Katriona. Since his wife died he had to admit, his daughter had been more and more difficult as she reached womanhood.

Chapter 2

Donald MacDonald rose early so that he could creep quietly out of the croft without disturbing his old grandmother or his brother. Before he reached the end of the village he always tried to have a word of comfort to old Mrs. Mackay. She was nearly 100 years of age and always had a smile for him as she sat in her rocking chair outside her house watching the sun rise over the mountain. Her longevity she put down to her belief that we should all get up with the birds and go to bed when they did. It seemed to work for her and Donald was not one to disagree with such wisdom.

Keeping well, Mrs. Mackay?

Fair to middling Donald, off to the hills again?

Aye. Donald smiled.

I’d love to join you, but my legs are not what they used to be. She laughed loudly.

I’ll bring you back some heather, if there is any left at this time of the year.

That will be nice. She said, pulling her blanket round her shoulders. Whit do you get to do when you’re up there, Donald?

Just lie in the bracken and think what I’m going to do with my life.

You could marry one of the girls in the village here and be very happy, I’m sure.

Not for me Mrs. Mackay, I’m too young, I’m only twenty two and I want to take my time before I settle down.

Then be off with you before my granddaughter catches sight of you.

I will. Donald said, aware of the fact that of the few girls in the village some had plied for his attention, but his thoughts and eyes were for another from another place. Who she was and where she came from he did not know but he was sure he would find out. With a quick kiss on the cheek he parted from the old lady waving happily as he strode off into the surrounding hills, his kilt swinging in the breeze making Mrs. MacKay’s eyes sparkle. He took his time as he made his way carefully through the woodland crossing over fallen deadwood and ground vegetation mostly of moss with sparse acid grasses and bracken. As he climbed the steep slopes to his favourite place he was surrounded by Sycamore, Ash and Conifer trees in abundance. Below him he could see Alder trees with their branches leaning over the water.

Reaching a spot high up above Loch Naver he settled down in the bracken to watch and wait. He knew she would be riding her black stallion along the banks of the loch soon. She had been regular these past few weeks and he had a feeling that she seemed to know that he was there despite the fact that he persistently hid himself whenever she came into view. He hadn’t long to wait. There she was galloping as though her life depended upon it. There were times he thought she was sure to be thrown from the horse even though he could see that it was an extremely sure-footed animal, the best he had ever seen in these lonely hills.

As she came into view he lay down flat, peering though the bracken to relish the moment as she turned her head in his direction. No one in the village could compare to her. As his eyes moved over her features with a kind of absorbed fascination, he could feel his heart beat crazily against his ribs. There was warmth in her eyes that seemed to sparkle with the same excitement he was feeling. Her titian hair blowing in the wind occasionally swept over her lovely features making him sit up higher in the bracken so he might not miss any of these brief encounters he was having. It never lasted long. One minute she would be riding the black stallion almost as if she was about to send it up the hill into the bracken and on top of him, then she would turn and ride back along the loch, away from him.

As she disappeared in the distance Donald lay back, closing his eyes so that he might recall all that he had captured in his memory. As he lay there eyes closed, smiling to himself there was a rustle in the bracken just above