Today is the anniversary of the Glencoe Massacre, an atrocity that still stirs emotion over 330 years later.
After the 1689 Jacobite rising, an official government pardon was offered to any clan who swore an oath to King William by the 1st of January 1692.
Many clan chiefs waited for permission from the exiled King James. By the time that arrived, it was only a few days to the deadline.
MacIain, chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe, arrived in Fort William just in time, to discover that the governor wasn’t authorised to accept
He was sent another 60 miles to Inveraray, with a letter to explain the honest mistake.
The oath was taken on January 6th & confirmation given that the clan was protected. However, the Scottish government had been looking to make an example and Glencoe was an easy target.
Their oath was struck from the record.
Not long after, 120 soldiers led by Robert Campbell of Glenlyon arrived in Glencoe seeking shelter.
The MacDonalds fed, watered and housed their guests for two weeks while even the soldiers didn't know the real reason they were there.
Then late on the 12th of February, orders finally arrived. The soldiers were to slaughter the MacDonalds in their beds at 5am the next morning.
Legend says that the sign to start came from Signal Rock, although there's no real evidence for that.
It's said many soldiers couldn’t face their task, whispering warnings to their hosts, but that wasn’t all of them.
MacIain was the first to be killed along with 37 others before the rest fled into the darkness. With heavy February snow, many may have died from the elements.
It wasn’t the scale of the Glencoe Massacre that shocked people, but the betrayal of those who lived with their victims for a fortnight.
Eventually, a public enquiry was ordered, but those who signed the orders like John Dalrymple escaped without punishment.
There's no denying that Glencoe is one of Scotland's most beautiful locations, but it's important to remember that there's a truly tragic tale behind the scenery.
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This is St Rule's tower in the grounds of St Andrews Cathedral and it dates all the way back to the 11th century, older than the cathedral building itself.
If you manage to climb all the 156 steps to the top, then you might find more than just a beautiful view...
The tower was once part of a large church built to house St Andrew's relics, you can just see a V-shape in the stonework where a roof once stood.
It's named after St Rule (also known as St Regulus), the man legend says sailed with Andrew's bones to the end of the earth - Fife.
In the late 14th century, the prior of St Andrews was Robert de Montrose, said to have been a fair, kind man but still very firm with the rules.
One monk in particular needed regular reminding of his duties and suffered the consequences of his slacking.
You might think you've never met any Norse giants, but if you've visited Scotland in Summer, then you almost definitely have!
This particular giant was exiled from Norway for being a terror, coming down from the icy mountains to bite off heads and drink villager's blood!
It's not like exile bothered him, he just waded through the sea towards Scotland. The giant slowly moved southwest from Caithness, spreading chaos and misery as he went.
Refugees fled before the monster, screaming warnings that it was after blood.
Eventually, the Scots realised they couldn't keep running. It was time to make a stand and they did so here, at the Bealach na Ba.
They dug a deep pit on one side of a narrow pass, filling it with sharp spikes, then a huge rope was tied tightly, strung from mountain to mountain.
It's feeling a lot darker and stormier in Scotland just now, the perfect for supernatural stories like this from Shetland!
Ertie, a young fisherman from Fetlar, had no fear of the waves. One stormy day, a tall, dark stranger approached him with a mischievous smile on his face.
Ertie immediately knew this was a Finnman. Shape-shifting creatures who lived amongst the waves.
The Finnman had a wager for Ertie. Since he thought he was such a great fisherman and wasn't afraid of a little storm, he bet that he couldn't catch a single fish before Yule.
Ertie accepted.
The wind blowed and the sea raged and even Ertie thought it best to wait a little. With just a few days to go, the storm finally eased and Ertie got his boat ready to sail, but he didn't have any bait.
Not every folk story comes from isolated glens or lonely lochs. One of the strangest tales I know comes from Leith, just a short hop from the centre of Edinburgh!
It's about a creature called the Shelleycoat, a rare beast that haunts waterways and bogs.
The name comes from its seashell encrusted coat, which clatters with an ominous rattle as it prowls around looking for prey.
The Shellycoat that stalked the dockyards of Leith was said to live in a large, shell coated boulder that lay by the river.
Children would dare each other to run around the rock three times chanting
"Shellycoat, Shellycoat, gang awa hame, I cry na yer mercy, I fear na yer name."
Once, a visiting English soldier called Richard had too many drams in a Leith pub and laughed at the superstitious locals.
We haven't had many stories of brutality and woe lately...so this should make up for that.
Nestled between Loch Earn and Ben Vorlich lies the beautiful Ardvorlich House. This 18thC adaptation of a much older building is home to the Stewarts of Ardvorlich.
Ardvorlich was right in the middle of one of the most lawless areas of Scotland.
This was somewhere that you didn't travel without plenty of protection and while John Drummond was the man tasked with keeping law and order, he was fighting a losing battle.
In 1609, John stumbled upon some MacGregors up to a little friendly cattle rustling and decided to be lenient. Instead of executing the group, he just chopped a few ears off.
John's plan backfired when the ridiculed MacGregors hunted him down and chopped off his head as revenge!