Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race

by M. I. Ebbutt

While the seven years slowly passed away his sad and lonely wife dwelt in the castle on the Islet, ruling her lord’s clan in all gentle ways, but fighting boldly when raiders came to plunder her clansmen. Yearly she claimed her husband’s dues and watched that he was not defrauded of his rights. But though thus firm, she was the best help in trouble that her clan ever had, and all blessed the name of the Lady of Loch Awe.

So fair and gentle a lady, so beloved by her clan, was certain to have suitors if she were a widow, and even before the seven years had passed away there were men who would gladly have persuaded her that her husband was dead and that she was free. She, however, steadfastly refused to hear a word of another marriage, saying: “When Colin parted from me he gave me two promises, one to return, if possible, within seven years, and the other to send me, on his deathbed, if he died away from me, a sure token of his death. I have not yet waited seven years, nor have I had the token of his death. I am still the wife of Black Colin of Loch Awe.”

This steadfastness gradually daunted her suitors and they left her alone, until but one remained, the Baron Niel MacCorquodale, whose lands bordered on Glenurchy, and who had long cast covetous eyes on the glen and its fair lady, and longed no less for the wealth she was reputed to possess than for the power this marriage would give him.

The Baron’s Plot

When the seven years were over the Baron MacCorquodale sought the Lady of Loch Awe again, wooing her for his wife. Again she refused, saying, “Until I have the token of my husband’s death I will be wife to no other man.” “And what is this token, lady?” asked the Baron, for he thought he could send a false one. “I will never tell that,” replied the lady. “Do you dare to ask the most sacred secret between husband and wife? I shall know the token when it comes.” The Baron was not a little enraged that he could not discover the secret, but he determined to wed the lady and her wealth notwithstanding; accordingly he wrote by a sure and secret messenger to a friend in Rome, bidding him send a letter with news that Black Colin was assuredly dead, and that certain words (which the Baron dictated) had come from him.

A Forged Letter

One day the Lady of Loch Awe, looking out from her castle, saw the Baron coming, and with him a palmer whose face was bronzed by Eastern suns. She felt that the palmer would bring tidings, and welcomed the Baron with his companion. “Lady, this palmer brings you sad news,” quoth the Baron. “Let him tell it, then,” replied she, sick with fear. “Alas! fair dame, if you were the wife of that gallant knight Colin of Loch Awe, you are now his widow,” said the palmer sadly, as he handed her a letter. “What proof have you?” asked Black Colin’s wife before she read the letter. “Lady, I talked with the soldier who brought the tidings,” replied the stranger.

The letter was written from Rome to “The Right Noble Dame the Lady of Loch Awe,” and told how news had come from Rhodes, brought by a man of Black Colin’s band, that the Knight of Loch Awe had been mortally wounded in a fight against the Saracens. Dying, he had bidden his clansmen return to their lady, but they had all perished but one, fighting for vengeance against the infidels. This man, who had held the dying Knight tenderly upon his knee, said that Colin bade his wife farewell, bade her remember his injunction to wed again and find a protector, gasped out, “Take her the token I promised; it is here,” and died; but the Saracens attacked the Christians again, drove them back, and plundered the bodies of the slain, and when the one survivor returned to search for the precious token there was none! The body was stripped of everything of value, and the clansman wound it in the plaid and buried it on the battlefield.

The Lady’s Stratagem

There seemed no reason for the lady to doubt this news, and her grief was very real and sincere. She clad herself in mourning robes and bewailed her lost husband, but yet she was not entirely satisfied, for she still wore the broken half of the engraved ring on the chain round her neck, and still the promised death-token had not come. The Baron now pressed his suit with greater ardour than before, and the Lady of Loch Awe was hard put to it to find reasons for refusing him. It was necessary to keep him on good terms with the clan, for his lands bordered on those of Glenurchy, and he could have made war on the people in the glen quite easily, while the knowledge that their chief was dead would have made them a broken clan. So the lady turned to guile, as did Penelope of old in similar distress. “I will wed you, now that my Colin is dead,” she replied at last, “but it cannot be immediately; I must first build a castle that will command the head of Glenurchy and of Loch Awe. The MacGregors knew the best place for a house, there on Innis Eoalan; there, where the ruins of MacGregor’s White House now stand, will I build my castle. When it is finished the time of my mourning will be over, and I will fix the bridal day.” With this promise the Baron had perforce to be contented, and the castle began to rise slowly at the head of Loch Awe; but its progress was not rapid, because the lady secretly bade her men build feebly, and often the walls fell down, so that the new castle was very long in coming to completion.