tenant Lindsay, with a party of soldiers, called in a friendly manner at his door, and was instantly admitted. Macdonald, while in the act of rising to receive his guest, was shot dead through the back with two bullets. His wife had already dressed; but she was stripped naked by the soldiers, who tore the rings off her fingers with their teeth. The slaughter now became general, and neither age nor infirmity was spared. Some women, in defending their children, were killed; boys imploring mercy, were shot dead by officers on whose knees they hung. In one place nine persons, as they sat enjoying themselves at table, were butchered by the soldiers. In Inverriggon, Campbell's own quarters, nine men were first bound by the soldiers, and then shot at intervals, one by one. Nearly forty persons were massacred by the troops; and several who fled to the mountains perished by famine and the inclemency of the season. Those who escaped owed their lives to a tempestuous night. Lieutenant-Colonel Hamilton, who had received the charge of the execution from Dalrymple, was on his march with four hundred men, to guard all the passes from the valley of Glencoe; but he was obliged to stop by the severity of the weather, which proved the safety of the unfortunate clan. Next day he entered the valley, laid the houses in ashes, and carried away the cattle and spoil, which were divided among the officers and soldiers."-Article "BRITAIN;" Encyc. Britannica-New Edition. And gave the host's kind breast to feel The friendly hearth which warm'd that hand, "Then woman's shriek was heard in vain, Nor infancy's unpitied plain, More than the warrior's groan, could gain Respite from ruthless butchery! The winter wind that whistled shrill, The snows that night that cloked the hill, Though wild and pitiless, had still Far more than Southern clemency. "Long have my harp's best notes been gone, Few are its strings, and faint their tone, They can but sound in desert lone Their grey-hair'd master's misery. For a' that an' a' that.' A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE. Stout Russia's Hemp, so surely twined Around our wreath we'll draw that, And he that would the cord unbind, Shall have it for his gra-vat! Or, if to choke sae puir a sot, There's ae bit spot I had forgot, Atlantic winds shall blaw that, For on the land, or on the sea, Where'er the breezes blaw that, The British Flag shall bear the grie, And win the day for a' that! Sang, FOR THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING OF THE PITT CLUB OF SCOTLAND. 1814. O, DREAD was the time, and more dreadful the omen, When the brave on Marengo lay slaughter'd in vain, And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foe men, PITT closed in his anguish the map of her reign! Not the fate of broad Europe could bend his brave spirit To take for his country the safety of shame; O, then in her triumph remember his merit, And hallow the goblet that flows to his name. Round the husbandman's head, while he traces the furrow, The mists of the winter may mingle with rain, 1 "On the 30th of July, 1814, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Erskine,2 and Mr. Duff, Commissioners, along with Mr. (now Sir) Walter Scott, and the writer, visited the Lighthouse; the Commissioners being then on one of their voyages of Inspection, noticed in the Introduction. They breakfasted in the Library, when Sir Walter, at the entreaty of the party, upon inscribing his name in the Album, added these interesting lines."-STEVENSON'S Account of the Bell-Rock Lighthouse. He may plough it with labour, and sow it in sorrow, But the blithe harvest-home shall remember his claim; And their jubilee-shout shall be soften'd with sadness, While they hallow the goblet that flows to his name. Though anxious and timeless his life was expended, Nor forget His grey head, who, all dark in affliction, By his long reign of virtue, remember his claim! With our tribute to PITT join the praise of his Master Though a tear stain the goblet that flows to his name. Yet again fill the wine-cup, and change the sad mea sure, The rites of our grief and our gratitude paid, To our Prince, to our Heroes, devote the bright trea sure, The wisdom that plann'd, and the zeal that obey'd Fill WELLINGTON's cup till it beam like his glory, Forget not our own brave DALHOUSIE and GREME; A thousand years hence hearts shall bound at their story, And hallow the goblet that flows to their fame. Pharos Loquitur.' FAR in the bosom of the deep, O'er these wild shelves my watch I keep; A ruddy gem of changeful light, The seaman bids my lustre hail, And scorns to strike his timorous sail. 1824. Scott's Diary of the Voyage is now published in the 4th volume of his Life. 1 The late Robert Hamilton, Esq., Advocate, long SheriffDepute of Lanarkshire, and afterwards one of the Principal Clerks of Session in Scotland-died in 1831. 2 Afterwards Lord Kinnedder. 3 The late Adam Duff, Esq. Sheriff-Depute of the county of Edinburgh. Lines,1 Health from the land where eddying whirlwinds toss ADDRESSED TO RANALD MACDONALD, ESQ. OF STAFFA. On outstretch'd cords the giddy engine slides, 1814. STAFFA, sprung from high Macdonald, Letter in Verse ON THE VOYAGE WITH THE COMMISSIONERS OF "OF the letters which Scott wrote to his friends during those happy six weeks, I have recovered only one, and it is, thanks to the leisure of the yacht, in verse. The strong and easy heroics of the first section prove, I think, that Mr. Canning did not err when he told him that if he chose he might emulate even Dryden's command of that noble measure; and the dancing anapasts of the second, show that he could with equal facility have rivalled the gay graces of Cotton, Anstey, or Moore."-LOCKHART, Life, vol. iv., p. 372. His own strong arm the bold adventurer guides, Here, by each stormy peak and desert shore, Yet even these coasts a touch of envy gain TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH, Proves each wild frolic that in wine has birth, &c. &c. &c. And wakes the land with brawls and boisterous mirth. Lighthouse Yacht in the Sound of Lerwick, The captive Norseman sits in silent woe, Zetland, 8th August 1814. HEALTH to the chieftain from his clansman true! And eyes the flags of Britain as they flow. These lines were written in the Album, kept at the Sound 1838, in his 61st year. The reader will find a warm tribute to of Ulva Inn, in the month of August, 1814. 2 Afterwards Sir Reginald Macdonald Stewart Seton of Staffa, Allanton, and Touch, Baronet. He died 16th Apri! Staffa's character as a Highland landlord, in Scott's article on Not thus of old the Norsemen hither came,. On every storm-beat cape a shapeless tower Such were the sires of Zetland's simple race, And still the eye may faint resemblance trace In the blue eye, tall form, proportion fair, The limbs athletic, and the long light hair(Such was the mien, as Scald and Minstrel sings, Of fair-hair'd Harold, first of Norway's Kings ;) But their high deeds to scale these crags confined, Their only warfare is with waves and wind. Why should I talk of Mousa's castled coast? Why of the horrors of the Sumburgh Rost? May not these bald disjointed lines suffice, Penn'd while my comrades whirl the rattling diceWhile down the cabin skylight lessening shine The rays, and eve is chased with mirth and wine? Imagined, while down Mousa's desert bay Our well-trimm'd vessel urged her nimble way, While to the freshening breeze she lean'd her side, And bade her bowsprit kiss the foamy tide? Such are the lays that Zetland Isles supply; Drench'd with the drizzly spray and dropping sky, Weary and wet, a sea-sick minstrel I.-W. SCOTT. POSTSCRIPTUM. Kirkwall, Orkney, Aug. 13, 1814. IN respect that your Grace has commission'd a Kraken, You will please be inform'd that they seldom are taken; He question'd the folks who beheld it with eyes, The Scotts of Scotstar et, and other families of the name in Fife and elsewhere, claim no kindred with the great clan of the Border,-and their armorial bearings are different. Those of eyesight more clear, or of fancy more high, To cumber your house, such a kettle of fish. You'll ask if I saw this same wonderful sight; |