A book of Highland minstrelsy . fearfulpestilence broke out not many months after, to which almost the wholeof the remaining inhabitants fell victims. The preservation of this littlethatched cottage appears thus still more extraordinary. Coll Ciotach was taken prisoner at the siege of his own castle ofDunniveg in Islay, and was hanged at Dunstaffnage. His son, SirAlexander, met a fate more worthy of a warrior. Having joined theroyal forces in Ireland, he was slain in a battle fought against theEarl of Carlingford. Neither father nor son left any descendants, andArgyle was no longer kept in ter
A book of Highland minstrelsy . fearfulpestilence broke out not many months after, to which almost the wholeof the remaining inhabitants fell victims. The preservation of this littlethatched cottage appears thus still more extraordinary. Coll Ciotach was taken prisoner at the siege of his own castle ofDunniveg in Islay, and was hanged at Dunstaffnage. His son, SirAlexander, met a fate more worthy of a warrior. Having joined theroyal forces in Ireland, he was slain in a battle fought against theEarl of Carlingford. Neither father nor son left any descendants, andArgyle was no longer kept in terror of the turbulent invasions of theMacdonalds of Islay. The hill of Lliabh Gaoil extends from Inverneill to Barnellan, a dis-tance of twelve miles. The view from its summit is varied and striking,commanding, on one side. Loch Fyne, the mouth of the Clyde, Bute,Arran, and the whole peninsula of Kintyre; on the other, Jura, Isla,Scarba, Ireland, with the isle of Kathlin, Mull, and many objects of inferiorgrandeur and THE HUT OX LOCH FWE. There is a thatched and lowly roofOn Fynes umbrageous shore; Gainst man and time it hath been proofTwo hundred years and more. Two hundred years it hath heard the brawl Of winds and billows din,And yet no rent in its unhewn wall Hath let the spoiler in. E E 210 Wi)t ?^ut on Hodj dTyiu. The oaken cupples are full as strongAs when first in copse they grew, The lintie singing their boughs among,And the daylight peeping through. Where the whitewashed kirk of Inverneill Juts out into the brine,Weekly sounding its Sabbath peal Across the broad Loch Fyne, On wild Stronchullins pebbled shore. At the foot of Lliabh Gaoil,Have dwelt, two hundred years and more. The sons of want and toil. The chieftain proud might scorn their lot,Might scorn their humble shed, Rearing in this secluded spotIts undefended head; Yet buttressed tower and vaulted domeAre cropped like weeds by time, While the broomy thatch of the peasants homeHath still i-enewed its
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, bookidbookofhighlandmi00ogilric
