The following story is from the Year Book of the American Clan Gregor Society, proceedings of the Fifth Annual Gathering, 1913, and is written in context by permission of the American Clan Gregor Society.

MY RACE IS ROYAL, OR, SCOTLAND'S ONLY SCOTTISH CLAN
by Arthur Llewellyn Griffiths

Far up in the rugged north, amid the storms of nature and the wildness of the eternal hills, far back in the misty recesses of the mighty past, once stood, alone and unaccompanied, the original Child of the Mist. The God of our fathers put him there, as, not a long time previous, He had put Adam in Eden. Between that primeval inhabitant of Scotia's sturdy land and us are only the mighty dead. Their lives are sped, their deeds are done, their songs are sung, their heritage is ours.Who may deny but that that stalwart Scot first trod the heather but shortly after the expulsion from the Garden of Eternal Life?

In the land where now we live we consider the race incorrectly called "Indian" as the aborigine. We think him, perhaps, of ancient lineage. Not so. Remote as his ancestry may be, it is yet modern in comparison with that of the primeval Scot. Every Indian bears evidence of his Asiatic descent, with his high cheekbones, similarity of some parts of his language, dullness of nerve and stoicism. It can now be stated, almost authoritatively, that they came from teh continent of Asia by way of the Behring Strait. Upon deeper consideration, we discover that, previous to the Indian, the Mound Builder lived here. But, previous to that Scot, no one!

Placed there by the Almighty, with only a few of the results of the fall apparent in him, he was a man of men. And the God of our fathers, who has our times in His hand, who peoples here and depopulates there, in order to work out His age-long plan of ultimate great good, gave to that pristine Child of the Mist a help-meet. From them have sprung the children of the Mist, the MacGregors- the mist of their ancestral habitat and the mist of stupendous antiquity which surrounds their origin.

The ancient and royal descent of the MacGregors finds expression in two Gaelic rhymes, which have existed since almost the incipiency of that most aged of languages. One of the runs, "Hills, waters and macAlpines are the three oldest things in Albion." We will remember that the use of the word "Albion" for what we now call Britain proves the existence of this rhyme previous to Roman times.

The other of the two rhymes asserts the hereditary claim of the MacGregors to the Scottish throne. Being so illustrious a lineage, the MacGregors, although excluded by circumstances from the throne on which their progenitors had sat, were naturally, in early times, one of the most considerable families of the kingdom. They had originally very extensive estates in Argyleshire and Perthsire, measuring, in one direction, from Loch Rannoch to Loch Lomond, and in another from Loch Etive to Taymouth. The seat of the principal branch of the family was Glenurchy, in the district of Lorn.

One of the first authentic notices of the MacGregors of Glenurchy is during the period of the struggle for independece against Edward I of England, who, you will remember, was defeated with his one hundred thousand southrons, at Bannockburn, by thirty thousand Scots, including many of the MacGregors. In 1296 John MacGregor, of Glenurchy, was made prisoner at the Battle of Dunbar, and, in the list of prisoners, this MacGregor is styled one of the Magnates of Scotland. His lands and his liberty were afterwards restored on condition of his going over to France to assist in the war which the English were carry8ing on with that kingdon. It is probable that he returned to Scotland towards the close of the stormy period, 1297-1306, and lived on his property of Glenurchy. In this last mentioned year, 1306, Robert Bruce, after killing his rival, John Cumin, assumed the Scottish crown; but, not being able to cope with the English forces then in Scotland, and disowned by a large faction of the Scottish nobles, he had to quit his kingdom and seek refuge in Ireland. Passing through the Highlands, the fugitive king was attacked and purseued by the Lord of Lorn, who had married Cumin's sister; and, as the king, in his flight, passed through the territory of the MacGregors, it is probable that they assisted Lorn on this occasion, ever faithful to the tie of blood. When, therefore, King Robert had seated himself firmly on the throne, he remembered the injury he had received at the hands of the MacGregors, and inflicted a severe punishment for it, by depriving the Clan of a great part of its ancient possessions.

The commencement of a long series of misfortunes and persecutions dates from the time of Robert Bruce. Rendered weak, and, at the same time, fierce, and disaffected by the loss of so large a portion of their possessions in the king's reign, they resented the encroachments which, in these lawless times, their neighbors tried tomake on the portion which still remained. While other Clans, loyal to an usurping king, secured their possessions by written charters from the king, the MacGregors scorned to retain theirs by any other right than the right of the sword. Why should they not do so? Should they seek from an usurper on the throne, which circumstances had thrust from them, a paper title to lands which they had possessed from time immemorial? The MacGregors, by act of the false king, became a nominally landless Clan. But, although deprived of all legal right to their ancient possessions, they were too numerous, and far too powerful, to be actually driven off the face of the lands in Perthshire and Argyleshire which they occupied. Ah, no! Though harassed by pseudo royal edict, made the enemy of their neighbors, and even pursued by deep-mouthed blood-hounds, these descendants of Scotia's royal progenitors, royalty of manly worth, and not royalty of assumption, defied all agression on their ancient rights. In so doing they laid the ground-work of many a subsequent defiance of encroachments of rights by their descendants to the present generation.

"Glenurchy's proud mountain, Colchurn and her towers,
Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours;
We're landless! Landless! Landless! Grigalach!
Landless! Landless! Landless!
Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,
O'er the heights of Ben Lomond the galley shall steer,
And the rocks of Craig Royston like icicles melt,
Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt!
The gather! Gather! Gather!
Gather! Gather! Gather!
If they rob us of name, and pursue us with beagles,
Give their roofs to the flame and their flesh to the eagles!
Then gather! Gather! Gather!
Gather! Gather! Gather!
While there's leaves in the forest, or foam on the river,
MacGregor, despite them, shall flourish forever!


The wild and royal resistance, as evidenced in the words we have just heard, had far too good and sufficient a reason to be expressed at one short occasion.

It was customary for the Scottish Government, in the fifteenth century, to reward noblemen of tried loyalty by bestowing on them portions of the unreclaimed crown lands in the Highlands, with all the natives on them, whether MacDonalds, MacNabs, or MacGregors. As the fortunate nobleman who obtained such a grant had to subdue or extirpate the natives before he could take possession of their lands, such a measure, in those rude times, was shrewd and politic. The task, however, of subduing or extirpated the native Highlanders was long, tediuos, and occasionally, impossible. The MacGregors, especially, seem to have been inexterminable. Remaining doggedly and resolutely in their native glens, they cared little who was called their landlord, whether he were the king or only a Campbell, and every attempt to exercise a landlord's rights met with a stern resistance. Sometimes acting on the defensive, and attacking any party which might enter their territories for a hostile purpose - somtimes acting on the offensive, invading the territory of their foes in turn, burning their houses, and carrying off their cattle, the MacGregors soon acquired the reputation of being one of the most intractible and unruly Clans in the Highlands. Especially was this so, as their principal territory was on the very borders of the Lowlands, within a few miles of royal residences and courts of justice. Hence it became a standing question with the Scottish Government, "How shall we clear the country of these MacGregors?" The entire force at the command of the Government was repeatedly employed to crush the MacGregors, but they were not even driven from their lands.

Such, fellow-Clanswomen and fellow-Clansmen of the Clan Gregor, is, in very brief sketch, the royal descent and royal resistance to oppression of our honored ancestors. Why all these persecutions? Why the proscription of the name MacGregor? Why did valiant men willingly die by hanging rather than simply give up the name MacGregor? There are many ways to correctly answer those questions, but all pursue on line of thought. They are all summarized in one remark, made to my mother's brother, the Hon. James J. H. Gregory. While on a tour of Scotland he stopped at a public house, kept by one Donald MacGregor. Of him my uncle made the inquiry, "Do the Clans of Scotland maintain their tartans to this day?" There was a pause before the answer came. Donald MacGregor drew himself up with the pride of his race. "There is only one Clan in Scotland," said he, "and that is the Clan MacGregor. The rest of them are French!"

Odd though that remark may at first appear, it assumes the strength of truth. In the remote past the MacAlpines, the Cihldren of the Mist, were all who roamed the storm-bound hillsides of the Lion of the North. Chroniclers declare that other peoples subsequently came from near-by France, copied the patriarchal government of affection taught them by the example of the MacGregors, inter-married among themselves, and, on occasion, with the MacGregors, took other patronymics, and peopled other glens theretofore uninhabited. Later, striving to establish the claim of royal descent for themselves, which rightfully belonged to the MacGregors alone, they began the persecutions, on trumped-up excuses, aiming at the annihilation of the true royal race. Thus does the wrath of man work out the providences of Jehovah. For

"God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform,
He plants His footsteps on the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-changing skill,
He treasures up His deep designs,
And works His sovereign will."

By the wise providence of His permission of these persecutions, applied to the parent stock of truly royal men, springing from a progenitor sullied only by Eden's fall. He has given, at this day, to the world a race of beings, kind through suffering, patient through affliction, hardy, indomitable, ever fighting for the right!

Around the name MacGregor, through all these long-drawn centuries, has gathered the respect of an on-looking world, a world which appreciates a gallant sturggle for what is true and good - a world which looks to the surviving MacGregors not to rest in pride of their ancestry, but, remembering the blood witin their veins, to press on in the royal struggle which shall lead to the Royal Day.

And when the last MacGregor who shall inherit a heavenly reward shall have passed to his never-dimming crown, we trust that we are speaking reverently when we say it will be to receive the commendations of the Master:
"Well done, MacGregor!"

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An excerpt from the American Clan Gregor Society Yearbook, 1913, the address of Chieftain Magruder

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