The Cummings were always a turbulent and haughty race, who for many generations inhabited the wilds of Strathspey and Badenoch. One of them upon a time claimed the throne of Scotland; and the deceitful wretch, who, after having entered into a mutual bond with Robert the Bruce (the great deliverer of Scotland from English oppression and tyranny, and who for ever established the independence of his country), for the deliverance of their common country, betrayed him to Edward. Bruce, however, managed to get away from the English court, and meeting the deceitful Cumming in the church of the Grey Friars in Dumfries, on the 10th of February 1305, a warm altercation took place, in the course of which Bruce charged the Comyn, as he was called, with treachery to himself and his country. The Comyn returned an insulting answer, when Bruce instantly stabbed him with his dagger on the steps of the high altar. The Cummings and the Shaws were always at feud with each other, the latter, being the weaker, at least in point of numbers, always getting the worst of it; and on one occasion their chief was murdered by their inveterate enemies and oppressors, the Cummings. A general slaughter took place at this particular period; but Shaw’s only child, a boy of only a few months old, escaped, he having fallen into the hands of a devoted female dependent of the family, who, to secure him from danger and to avoid the general carnage, made off across hills and mountains, through moors and forests, to the residence of the laird of Strathardale in the Highlands of Perthshire, whom she knew as an old and trusted friend of her late chief. She arrived, after much fatigue and many hardships, at the ‘Baron’s’ residence; informed him of the cruel fate of her late master, and the flower of his clan; how she escaped with her precious charge, and entreated Strathardale, for the love he bore the late Rothiemurchus, and the long and intimate friendship which had existed between them, to take charge of his youthful son, and save him from the savage clutches of the Cummings. Matters were soon arranged to the satisfaction of both parties, and the faithful woman went home quite satisfied that the youth would be well attended to, and brought up among Strathardale’s own children, as befitted the rightful and youthful heir of Rothiemurchus.

She returned to her own country in due time, found all her old acquaintances and friends slaughtered or trampled upon, and scourged by the blood-thirsty and cruel Cummings; all the ancient possessions of the Shaws ruled by and, apparently, in the everlasting possession of the inveterate enemies of her kith and kin. Years and days passed away, and those days and years added growth and vigour to the young heir, who, until he attained to years of discretion, was carefully kept in the dark as to the real and true nature of his birthright. When at last it was revealed to him, his whole soul seemed to have been roused, and he determined to spend his whole time and all the energies of his body and mind to prepare and carry out a scheme for the recovery of his ancient patrimony, to contest his claim with the proud and haughty house of Cumming, and avenge the cruel murder of his father and kinsmen.

In due time young Shaw decided upon paying a visit to his native district to ascertain the real state of matters, and if possible to wrench from his enemies the heritage which they had so long and so unjustly possessed. Arriving at Rothiemurchus, after a most perilous journey and escorted by a strong body of followers, he lost no time in calling upon his benefactor, Janet Shaw, whose history, antecedents, and devoted conduct to himself in his early days he had learnt from his Perthshire protector. He was directed to her lonely cottage, the door of which he found strongly bolted from the inside. He at once announced himself and begged to be admitted, but his voice was quite strange to Janet’s ear. No amount of entreaty or persuasion would induce her to unbolt the door until she had satisfactory proof that she was not being deceived; for poor Janet had good reason to have little faith in her surroundings. She could not bring herself to believe that her old protÉgÉ could be so foolhardy as to appear in the district among the sworn enemies of his race. Shaw, however, continued to insist upon his individuality, and at last Janet told him to exhale his breath through the keyhole and she would thus soon satisfy herself as to his identity. Doubting this singular and delicate mode of recognition on the part of Janet, Shaw requested one of his attendants to supply his place in the first experiment. This done Janet at once firmly and sternly resented the attempt made to deceive her by one who, she said, must be an enemy trying to secure an entrance to her place of abode with no good intention, and told him ‘Bi falbh, bi falbh, a chealgaire, cha’n eil gaoth t’ainealach ach fuaraidh an aite anail mhilis, bhlasda leanaban mo ghaoil’ (Be off, be off, deceitful wretch, the odour of your breath is but cold in comparison with the sweet and savoury breath of my own beloved child). Shaw could no longer trifle with the feelings of one whom he discovered had still continued to take such an interest in him, and he felt vexed that he had acted in, what might be construed by Janet, such a heartless manner. He asked her to give him another chance to meet her in her own way, explained the hoax to her, breathed through the keyhole himself, satisfied the devoted Janet that he was really ‘her own beloved child,’ when, with an exclamation of joy, she unbolted and threw open the door, warmly saluted and received him in her arms, and bedewed him with tears of affection. For the moment his manhood failed him, and the two wept—it is difficult to decide whether most in consequence of the vivid recollections brought up of misfortune and misery in the past, or from a spontaneous outburst of joy in meeting one another in such peculiar circumstances, after such a long, and as Janet believed, permanent separation.

Young Shaw, however, soon recovered himself, and after mutual congratulations and various references and inquiries as to the past lives and adventures of each other, he learnt from Janet that all the male Cummings were away on a foraging expedition in the south, and that they were expected to return with the creach on the following day. This was considered a most favourable and opportune circumstance, and one which must be taken advantage of without hesitation or delay. Shaw at once decided to intercept them on their way home and extinguish them root and branch or perish in the attempt. He and his trusted followers passed a sleepless night in Janet’s cottage. To satisfy their hunger she insisted upon having her only cow slaughtered at once. This was done, and it was soon roasted before a blazing fire of peat and moss fir. No effort was spared on Janet’s part to make them as comfortable as possible, no doubt naturally feeling that if her favourite was successful in his desperate enterprise she would be well provided for during the remainder of her days.

The rest of the night was spent by Shaw and his plucky companions sorting their arms and arranging their dispositions for the following morning. They started before the break of day, and took a secluded position on the Callort Hill, at the eastern extremity of Rothiemurchus, situated between two roads leading from Strathspey. They exultingly felt that they had the Cummings in the immediate grasp of their inveterate vengeance, and sure of their ability to complete their utter destruction and annihilation. Old Janet, who accompanied Shaw and his friends, recommended this as the best and most convenient spot from which to attack the enemy, as they were sure to return by that route, and she was determined to take a part in the fortunes of war herself; for, she said, if the day went against them, it was certain death for her, whether she followed them and shared their danger or stopped at home in her lonely cottage. She then ascended a neighbouring hill, which commanded a good view of the two roads, by one of which the Cummings must return. Janet was soon on the top, and after a period of watchful suspense, descried the enemy slowly advancing straight upon the very spot where Shaw and his followers lay in ambush. She immediately gave the alarm by a pre-arranged signal, the watchword being—‘Tha na gobhair anns a Challort’ (The goats are in the Callort). Shaw and his companions immediately prepared for the mortal combat, in which he was to secure the patrimony of his race or die in the attempt. Like a horde of hungry wolves falling on their innocent and defenceless prey, Shaw and his companions fell on the first batch of their astonished and unprepared victims, and felled them to the ground like mown grass. They were travelling in detached companies, each party driving a separate lot of cattle lifted from the Southron, and as each party came up, ignorant of the fate of the preceding one, they were soon dispatched by the infuriated and successful Shaws; not a Cumming was allowed to escape. They were all buried on the spot, which is to this day called Lag-nan-Cuimeanach, or the Hollow of the Cummings. ‘The green grassy mounds which, after the lapse of centuries, overtop the heather at this scene of blood-thirsty vengeance, mark the resting place and commemorate the overthrow of one of the most savage races that ever existed in the Highlands of Scotland.’

After this desperate and successful encounter with the Cummings no serious difficulties presented themselves against Shaw taking possession of the estate and property of his predecessors. His kinsmen and friends, who so long writhed under the oppressive yoke of the hated enemy, now rallied round their young and rightful chief with alacrity and unmistakable signs of delight. It was not long, however, before matters took another and an ugly turn. Shaw’s mother survived the general massacre and ruin of the clan when the Cummings took possession, and matters had so far prospered with her, still residing in the district, that during the minority and absence of her son she again entered the matrimonial state with a “Southron,” whose name was Dallas. Young Shaw had so far condoned this step on his mother’s part, considering the straitened circumstances in which she was left, that he not only forgave her, but invited herself and her husband to reside with him in his mansion of Doune. Matters continued pleasantly and smoothly for a time, but, as usual in such cases, after a while some disagreeable and discordant elements began to manifest themselves, and the youth was too proud and haughty in spirit to conceal his increasing ill-will and animosity towards his stepfather. On a certain occasion, among a large company of their friends, this disagreeable feeling found vent, when unpleasant remarks were given expression to on both sides. Shaw looked daggers, but held his hand until on his way home, at a lonely and secluded spot, he suddenly drew forth his dagger, and with little or no preliminary ceremonial dispatched his stepfather by stabbing him to the heart. The place is known to this day as Lag-an-Dalaisich. Not satisfied with this brutal and murderous deed, he severed the head from the body, and carrying the bloody trophy to his mother, stuck on the point of his dagger, on arriving at home, he threw it at her, tauntingly exclaiming, “There it is for you, take it, the head of your blackguard and detested husband.”

The state of the poor woman’s feelings at the sight of such a horrid spectacle, brought about by the hand of her own offspring, cannot be described. She cursed him loudly for the unnatural part he had acted. The keenest resentment was aroused in her breast, and she determined to use every means in her power to have him punished for his cruel and detestable conduct. She urged upon every one whom she could influence, and who had any influence in the district, to stir up and rouse the vigilance of the law, feeble as it then was in such an out-of-the-way place. She unceasingly impressed upon everyone the detestable nature and enormity of the crime her son had been guilty of, and the great injustice he had inflicted upon herself. The result was that young Shaw was soon proclaimed an outlaw, and his whole property, rights, and possessions reverted to the Crown. He soon after died broken-hearted, despised by friends and foes alike; and his heritage has continued since to be the property of the ‘Lairds of Grant,’ who, for a mere nominal sum, bought the forfeiture from the Crown.