I wonder how many millions of feet have trod those stones? We went off to find a new watch battery for Loni. We found a combination shoe repair and watch store (??), and the friendly young fellow who took care of us said, in an almost unintelligible accent (we were virtually reduced to sign language) to come back in half an hour and it would be 9 pounds. When ewe picked it up he asked where we were from. As we were tourists, he said we wouldn’t be able to take advantage of the warranty that was built into the repair work, so he would only charge us 5 pounds. Think that would happen back home? We headed back to the B&B via the lower footpath, encountering some nifty plants hanging into the walkway.
And our B&B, ----, run by the inexhaustible Laura (not pictured). That’s the castle, looming above.
The following morning, we bid fairwell to Stirling and set course for Loch Lomand and the town of Luss, ancestral home of the Clan Colquhoun. The “qu” is silent, and we figure it got lost in the translation when they emigrated to the States and pronounced it Cah-hoon’. Anyway, it seems that the Colquhoun still own much of the land around Loch Lomand, which is news to me as I thought the clan was all but wiped out long ago by the dastardlyl MacGregors. Hissssss.
In about 1368 Robert, the 5th of Colquhoun, had married the daughter of the 6th Laird of Luss. Her real name is unknown to history, so she is known only as "the fair maid of Luss". More importantly she was also Godfrey's heiress so when Godfrey died her husband Robert inherited through her the Luss Estates along the west bank of Loch Lomond.
The first home the Colquhoun built there, probably in the 16th century, was Rossdhu Castle. All that remains today is a single ruined façade, but it can be seen to have been a solid and easily defensible four-story building. Among the visitors who stayed there was Mary, Queen of Scots, but then it seems she stayed just about everywhere in Scotland, sort of like “Washington slept here.”
In February 1603 occurred the most notorious event in the history of the clan when the Colquhouns and the MacGregors met in bloody battle in Glen Fruin. Although virtually deserted today, Glen Fruin was populated by perhaps as many as 200 farms. The rich fertile Colquhoun lands were too much of a temptation for the MacGregors whose inhospitable mountainous lands to the north and east had led them into a lifestyleb of raiding their neighbours, stealing their livestock and burning and looting homes.
Because of these repeated raids of the MacGregors and their allies (especially the MacFarlanes), the King had given the Colquhoun clan chief authority to arm his clan in self-defence. There are many conflicting accounts about the immediate cause of the battle. What we do know is that about 400 MacGregors and their supporters set off towards Colquhoun territory. They approached Glen Fruin along the valley of the Fruin Water. The Colquhouns, forewarned, marched up Glen Luss and then turned south down the valley of the Auchengaich burn. When they entered Glen Fruin, they found that the MacGregors had got there before them. They had divided their forces into two and were able to trap the Colquhouns between them.
With their Clan chief, Alistair MacGregor, attacking from the front and his brother John (who was killed in the battle) from the rear, there was no escape. The Colquhouns were driven from the field, back to Rossdhu. Many Colquhoun followers were captured and slaughtered. At the head of Glen Fruin, a stone commemorates those Colquhouns who died, perhaps as many as 140.
In the latter part of the 18th century, Sir James, the 23rd of Colquhoun, decided to build a new home in the latest classical style within sight of Rossdhu Castle. The result was Rossdhu House. Early in the next century, his son, also James, added two wings and a portico supported by two pairs of columns to create the house that exists today. The Colquhoun Clan chiefs lived here until 1985, after which it was leased to the Loch Lomond golf Club who have refurbished it and restored it to its former glory to become the club-house and headquarters of the club. Since it is private, we weren’t able to penetrate the woods that surround it, but we did find the huge gate that guards a now-unused entrance, with the clan coat-of-arms flying above.
No one seems quite to know what the Gaelic is at the bottom. We asked several old souls we met at the church, and each had a different translation. The internet wasn’t of any help either. The French motto, “Si Je Puis,” translates to the rather tepid “If I Can.” Hmmph. Not exactly blood-stirring stuff. Anyway, it’s a cool crest, especially the red stag.
Just down the road from the church and village of Luss each summer since 1875 the Luss Highland Gathering has taken place. Since the first year of the Games the Chief of Clan Colquhoun has been the Chieftain of the Games, a tradition that continues to the present day.
Luss is now a Scottish Conservation Village, having been restored to preserve its 18th and 19th century cottages. It’s quite the tourist attraction.
After exploring the town for a bit, we took a cross-loch cruise to see the sights.
No, the boat wasn’t listing that badly. I had used my gorilla-pod to take a timed selfie, and I had the camera on crooked. Does make it look like a rather dramatic turn, though. Here’s Ben Lomand, looming over the Loch. This is the mountain the cannon was pointing at when we were at Stirling Castle.
And here’s the utterly beautiful town of Luss. My forbears chose well!
In Luss there is the 19th century parish church that almost seems a shrine to the Colquhoun, as the stained glass has repeated displays of the coat-of-arms and family names. The graveyard as well is full of Colquhouns going back to the 1700’s. Most graves before that were lost or unmarked. I’m not sure where the given name of Ludovic crept in, but thank goodness it hasn’t been passed down. “John” (or “JON”) will do quite nicely, thank you. Ludovic did get part of the crest engraved on his stone, which still looks good after 220+ years.
Ah, sometimes going home is a long, long journey.
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