They were days of bitter land disputes and cattle raids, when falling out with the neighbours could – and often did - bring long-lasting and serious consequences.

And so it was that on a cold February morning in 1603, the simmering feud between the Gregors and the Colquhouns finally erupted into a bloody clash.

Fuelled by mutual loathing, fought with pistols, axes and hagbuts, the violent clang of metal sword against chainmail was matched by the cries of rage from two clans and their supporters.

Clan Gregor, with their claims to have descended from King Alpin of Dalriada, had seen much of their ancestral lands lost to the likes of the Colquhouns and the Campbells.

Angry and plunged into hardship, they had raided their neighbours’ lands for whatever they could get to help them survive.

It all came to a head amid the rolling Loch Lomond beauty of Glen Fruin on that February day, setting in sequence a chain of events that led to victory for Clan Gregor, but at a hefty price.

Soon the Clan Chief Allaster MacGregor and eleven of his chieftains would be executed.

And King James VI, as an example to other clans considering feuding with the neighbours, would unleash his wrath in an act that would punish the clan for more than 150 years.

The King’s ruling declared the name Gregor and its variations such as MacGregor was henceforth “altogether abolished” and the clan members branded outlaws.

At risk of being hunted down and killed, they dispersed, changed their names and, rather romantically for an episode so blood soaked, would come to be referred to Sir Walter Scott as “the children of the mist”.

(Image: Clan MacGregor)

With their properties lost, there would be nothing of any note to show of the once powerful medieval clan other than stories and a lingering sense of loss.

It is a snapshot of Scottish history that members of Clan Gregor would know all too well as 140 of them gathered recently amid in the calm serenity of A-Listed early 19th century Glenorchy Church in the Argyll and Bute village of Dalmally.

On that July morning, the long search for something physical to show for Clan Gregor’s medieval roots finally reached a peak.

Among those in attendance were Americans and Canadians whose ancestors had long since left Scotland but with an inexplicable burning passion for the country and their ‘clan’.

Standing alongside their Scottish ‘cousins’ they witnessed the results of more than two decades of fundraising, and the dedication within the church of seven newly conserved gravestones.

Identified as being linked to the MacGregor chiefs who inhabited the three glens of Glenorchy, Glenlochy and Glenstrae in Argyllshire 700 years ago, the slabs had been retrieved from outdoors after decades of being lashed by the weather and pounded by rotary lawnmowers.

The slabs, with their cravings of warriors and flowers, represent some of the only physical relics to show for hundreds of years of lost history.

But their return to the church is just one element of what’s become a very modern effort using the latest technologies and involving clan members all around the world to uncover even the tiniest fragments of their clan story.

One recent development is potentially even more thrilling for the ‘children of the mist’.

Years of fruitless searching has finally led to a windswept hillside overlooking the head of Loch Awe at the mouth of Glen Strae and evidence of a small but significant settlement.

According to one archaeology expert who, shares the MacGregor name, the scale of the property, signs of ironworks, pottery and its elevated location all point to the possibility that it was once occupied by one medieval line of MacGregor chiefs.

For a clan which has drifted for centuries with no material objects to call their own, the stones and settlement are hugely significant.

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“Clan Gregor and the name MacGregor has this chequered history,” explains Prof. Richard E. McGregor, Chairman of Clan Gregor Society, who has spent recent weeks showing dozens of international clan members around key spots linked to their heritage.

“The name was proscribed for 150 years; there are no castles, and no material objects that the clan has from the medieval period.

“The stones are something visible and tangible.

“And finding a settlement on a hill quite near to Dalmally from that medieval period is important.”

That discovery followed earlier unsuccessful attempts to find anything to show for the clan’s stronghold in the glens around the Dalmally area.

“We did work previously where there was supposed to be a MacGregor settlement,” Richard adds. “We found nothing but an old bedspread, horsehair cloth and an unexploded Victorian bullet which my American friend nearly put his foot on.”

Undeterred, they turned attention to another site – marked on old maps as Tigh Mor (‘the big house’).

Over several years of digs, it has revealed enough evidence to suggest it may well have strong links to the MacGregors of Glen Strae.

“Not a huge amount is known about medieval Argyllshire,” adds Richard. “So, finding a settlement from that period is important in a general context.

“The really important thing is that this settlement had an ironworks - a bloomery – on the hillside.”

That medieval smelting furnace and pottery pieces identified as Scottish Redware, dating from the 13th to 15th centuries, point to the site being of particular importance.

Radiocarbon dating of samples of charcoal have also confirmed a late 13th century timeframe.

“We can’t be sure which clan chief, but it’s the right time and place and space, so we are quite confident in some ways,” he adds.

“It’s very important for us.”

(Image: Clan MacGregor)

The winding road to the stones and the settlement reflects a clan fired with determination to uncover their past, supported by devotees the world over – perhaps entranced by stories of the ills done to their ancestors – who have happily dug deep to fund the search for even the smallest slice of possible heritage.

Along the way there have been disappointments, lost artefacts which may have unlocked precious secrets, a global DNA project that has shed new light on the connections between different families and the benefits of new technologies helping to unravel tiny parts of a giant jigsaw.

The gravestones project alone has spanned almost 30 years and racked up costs of £80,000. More than half came from just 22 international clan members and their families, with over £25,000  from Historic Environment Scotland and smaller grants from the Pilgrim Trust and Strathmartine Trust.

Pinpointing the stones’ significance took researchers back to the 14th century, when a medieval church occupied the site of today’s 19th century building.

Members of the Clan Gregor Society had been reading the 1520 work of Sir James MacGregor, Dean of Lismore, which contained lists and obituaries of senior clansmen, when they realised the carved gravestones of the Loch Awe School in the Dalmally churchyard had originally covered the graves of MacGregor chiefs.

Removed during the 17th century reconstruction of the church, they had been appropriated by others and used as memorial stones.

“These stones were lying in the ground, they were eroding through acid rain and rotary lawnmowers going over them: it was important to preserve them,” adds Richard.

Their recent return to the church, however, is bittersweet.

Work on the church in the 1980s had identified the site of the original altar and uncovered a number of skeletons.

They were buried elsewhere with mandibles retrieved from some sent to a Scottish university in the hope future technology might help unlock their identities.

They have now gone missing. “We would have had DNA from them,” adds Richad.

Of the stones, one elaborate stone is thought to be linked to MacGregor chief, Iain of Glenstrae, who died in 1519.

But again, the clan has encountered a setback: a child’s stone recorded among the collection was apparently removed in early 1980s. Its location has never been found.

 

“Somewhere someone has a half-size stone with these carvings on it, we just don’t know where,” adds Richard.

However, the settlement finding – worked on with members of the local community in partnership with Dalmally Historical Association and backed by grants from Carraig Gheal Wind Farm and Lochy Water as well as a member's legacy and member donations – has raised new hopes.

Efforts first began in 2014 in an area called Stronmilchan by the River Orchy and marked on early maps as a possible fortified manor house, called Bothan na Dige or ‘house of the ditch, or moat’.

“We built up a lot of skills but didn’t discover what we hoped would be there,” says Dr Gavin MacGregor, director of Archaeology Scotland who worked on the dig and is now writing up a major report on his findings.

“We then turned attention to the next place marked up on the map, Tigh Mor at the mouth of Glen Strae.

“We saw straight away saw lumps and bumps that merited investigation.”

Three years of excavation are complete, with carbon dating techniques pointing to it being a medieval settlement.   

“It’s not a big township or village,” adds Dr MacGregor, who says working on a project with links to his own family name was particularly poignant.

“It is a very discreet group of two structures and its location, on a terrace that affords good views of the loch and Kilchurn Castle, is in a strategic position.

“Whether it was the house of the taxman or someone who is more influential is really speculation,” he stresses.

“We don’t have a smoking gun to say who lived there, but we know from best historical accounts that there were MacGregors – as well as others – living in Glen Strae at the time.

“So, there’s every possibility that someone living there might have considered themselves to be a MacGregor.”

It is timely: this year is the Covid-delayed 200 year anniversary of the founding of the Clan Gregor Society, with over 140 participants arriving from all over the the world - principally America, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.

Among them, Ronald McGregor Duran, the great grandson of a Scot who made his way to Uruguay during the Industrial Revolution. Now living in Los Angeles, he says uncovering and exploring his clan heritage has helped him better understand his own life story.

“Growing up in Montevideo in Uruguay, I was called ‘the Highlander’ because of my name, but didn’t really understand it," he says.

“I did Highland dancing as a little boy, and I knew when I hear the pipes - just like my grandfather - they'd bring tears to my eyes.

“One of my aunts did a study of where we came from.

“The feeling of being part of the clan and connected is incredible. It feels like I have come home.”