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all subsequent documents the name and signatures
are MacDonell.
Few families can boast of such a number of
bards, both in the direct and indirect lines, and
able ones too. The first of them was Iain Lom
(and his son), entitled John son of Donald, son of
John, son of Donald, sen of Iain Aluin, the 4th
Chief, M-as the most famous. Then we have
Donald Donn, Donald Bane of the spectre,
Alexander and Donald Gruamach of the house of
Bohuntin, Rev. John MacDonald, " Ni' Mine
Aonghuis og," grand daughter of Angus og, fifth
son of Alistair nan Cleas. A daughter of Donald
Glas the 2nd, and sister of the brothers Alexander
and Ranald, who were murdered. Gilleasbuig na
Ceapaich, his daughter Juliet, and his sons,
Angus Odhar, and Alexander, and Coll, and
several others, until we come down to the subject
of our present sketch.
Miss Alice MacDonell was educated by private
tuition, and at the convent of Frencli nuns in
Northampton, finishing off at St. Margaret's
Convent, Edinburgh. She gave early promise of
the bardic gift by stringing couplets together,
and running about the romantic Braes of Lochabar,
listening to wonderful tales of battles and
chivalry, weird romances, fairy tales, Ossianic
poetry, and lovely Highland music, all tended to
foster the poetic talent, and lay the foundation
of that intense patriotism and grand martial
spirit which pervades much of her poetry, and
wliich would have satisfied even Alistair Carrach
himself. Besides her numerous accomplishments.
Miss MacDonell is very well read in Shakesjieare,
ancient and modern poetry, history, and romance.
For several years some of her poems have been
published in various Higliland papers, but they
were not published in book form until 1896, when
her " lays of the heather" appeared,! a goodly-
sized bookof 206pagesdedicated to Prince Rupert of
Bavaria, the present repi-esen tative of the Stewarts,
containing 53 pieces of different lengths, and of a
a martial, descriptive, and sentimental character.
As might be expected her first poem is to her
beloved native glen. " Lochabair gu Brhch"
(Lochaber for ever), written for a historical work,
entitled " Loyal Lochaber," by Mr W. Drummond
Norie.
t Elliot Stock, 62 Paternoster Row, London.
In all thy moods I love thee,
In sunshine and in storm,
Lochaber of the towering bens,
Outlined in rugged form.
Here proud Ben Nevis snowy crowned.
Rests throned amid the clouds ;
There Looby's deep and silvery wave
A Royal city shrouds ;
Whose waters witnessed the escape
Of coward Campbell's dastard shape.
Disgrace eternal reap
Whilst fair Glen Nevis' rocks resound
With Pibroch Dhu' renowned ;
From Inverlochy's keep.
Grey ruined walls, in after years
That saw the great Montrose,
MacDonald's, Cameron's, men lead forth
To victory 'gainst their foes.
Oh ! Lochaber, dear Lochaber,
The rich red afterglow
Of fame that rests upon thy shield.
Unbroken records show.
" 0, Lochabair, mo Lochabair fhein gu bràth "1
The next is " Lochaber's sons " (the Queen's
Own Cameron Highlanders) in which mention is
made of the ties that existed between the
Camerons and the Keppochs. Allan Cameron of
Erracht's mother was a sister of the gallant
Keppoch of the '45, and she it was who designed
the tartan of the 79th, a blending of the colours
of the MacDonald and Cameron tartans.
Another significant poem is to the Clan Donald,
on their liist formation as a society since the '45,
which breathes intense patriotism throughout.
Rouse ye cliildreii of MacDonald,
From each far and distant shore !
Hands outstretched across the ocean
Cling in fancied grasp once more.
Helpers of the weak and suffering.
As the knights of ancient lore ;
Hearts that never knew dishonour
Beat as loyal as of yore.
Wake again, great Clann Dhomhnuill !§
Let not duty call in vain ;
In the vanguard of the battle, _
Form your serried ranks again.
Miss MacDonell has been as successful in her
choice of titles, as in the subject of her poems,
and no one can go through the work without
seeing that the author is capable of still greater
things,
"The Highland Brigade," at the battle of the
Alma, consists of 133 lines, is an excellent poem,
and enough to rouse any Highlander's enthusiasm.
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