On the first of February a hundred and twenty soldiers of Argyle’s regiment, commanded by a captain named Campbell and a lieutenant named Lindsay, marched to Glencoe.  Captain Campbell was commonly called in Scotland Glenlyon, from the pass in which his property lay.  He had every qualification for the service on which he was employed, an unblushing forehead, a smooth lying tongue, and a heart of adamant.  He was also one of the few Campbells who were likely to be trusted and welcomed by the Macdonalds; for his niece was married to Alexander, the second son of Mac Ian.

The sight of the red coats approaching caused some anxiety among the population of the valley.  John, the eldest son of the Chief, came, accompanied by twenty clansmen, to meet the strangers, and asked what this visit meant.  Lieutenant Lindsay answered that the soldiers came as friends, and wanted nothing but quarters.  They were kindly received, and were lodged under the thatched roofs of the little community.  Glenlyon and several of his men were taken into the house of a tacksman who was named, from the cluster of cabins over which he exercised authority, Inverriggen.  Lindsay was accommodated nearer to the abode of the old chief.  Auchintriater, one of the principal men of the clan, who governed the small hamlet of Auchnaion, found room there for a party commanded by a serjeant named Barbour.  Provisions were liberally supplied.  There was no want of beef, which had probably fattened in distant pastures; nor was any payment demanded; for in hospitality, as in thievery, the Gaelic marauders rivalled the Bedouins.  During twelve days the soldiers lived familiarly with the people of the glen.  Old Mac Ian, who had before felt many misgivings as to the relation in which he stood to the government, seems to have been pleased with the visit.  The officers passed much of their time with him and his family.  The long evenings were cheerfully spent by the peat fire with the help of some packs of cards which had found their way to that remote corner of the world, and of some French brandy which was probably part of James’s farewell gift to his Highland supporters.  Glenlyon appeared to be warmly attached to his niece and her husband Alexander.  Every day he came to their house to take his morning draught.  Meanwhile he observed with minute attention all the avenues by which, when the signal for the slaughter should be given, the Macdonalds might attempt to escape to the hills; and he reported the result of his observations to Hamilton.

Hamilton fixed five o’clock in the morning of the thirteenth of February for the deed.  He hoped that, before that time, he should reach Glencoe with four hundred men, and should have stopped all the earths in which the old fox and his two cubs,-so Mac Ian and his sons were nicknamed by the murderers,—­could take refuge.  But, at five precisely, whether Hamilton had arrived or not, Glenlyon was to fall on, and to slay every Macdonald under seventy.