Rare Scottish Stories #1 The Murderess Barbara of Argyll

The year was around 1850 and the threat of a massive storm had been hanging over the heads of local villagers of the Argyllshire coast for days. Heavy black clouds strangled the Winter sunlight and a fierce wind brought a feeling of impending doom, felt by villagers and crofters in the surrounding area. As was customary at the time, villagers with cottages nearest to the shoreline would leave a lit candle by their window as a warning for ships coming too close to the shore and as a welcome to those seeking desperate refuge during the storm.

Sure enough, the storm came and brought with it a violent tempest that slashed at a ship caught in its waves of its wrath. On hearing the ship being dashed to pieces by the rocks and the sailors urgent shouts for help, the local villagers gathered on shore to save as many souls as they could. The men arrived with thick rope to throw into the obsidian waters and the women brought whisky and blankets to revive and relieve shock. If any a soul was left, it was clear that God alone had saved them.

An AI generated image of the ship caught in the tempest of the Argyll storm.

From the shore, the villagers could hear the hysterical screams and cries of the sailors as the ship was reduced to mere wooden splinters. If ever there was a time to act, it was now. The landsmen threw their ropes into the sea to save the drowning sailors but alas, a very few could be saved. One young sailor was assisted by a widow and her two daughters, who swaddled him in blankets and brought him back, half drowned, to their cottage for heat, food and rest.

An AI generated image of simple food provided by the widow for the sailor in what would have been her small cottage that she shared with her two daughters.

Once recovered the next morning, the sailor relayed his sincere gratitude to the widow and her two daughters for saving his life and stated that he belonged to the next village over. As coincidence would have it, the widow was great friends with his Mother. Having been at sea for many years, the sailor was delighted to be chaperoned by the widow, his kindly rescuer, to his Mother's cottage later that very day. On reaching his Mother's cottage the sailor, named Donald Ban, found that his Father had passed away several years prior and his elderly Mother was growing infirm alone - unable to tend to the family croft due to the confines of older age. Donald made the decision then and there to retire from seafaring life and return home to care for his ailing Mother.

Naturally Donald paid many a visit to the widow's cottage over time with a renewed vigour for land based life and he relayed in passing that he had begun to look for a suitable wife. The widow herself had two daughters whom Donald was well acquainted with - Mary and Barbara. Mary was a plain young woman and not necessarily what one would call pretty but she had a good heart, was a keen cook and would make a wonderful Mother. She was polite and homely with long blonde hair and a quiet, nurturing disposition. If Donald chose Mary as his wife, he was quite sure he would live out the rest of his days a happy man in the quiet contentment of wedded life.

Barbara on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Mary in every conceivable way. With long dark hair and piercing blue eyes, Barbara was a bombshell beauty and men from miles around were bewitched by the sight of her. Unlike her sister, Barbara had a cruel heart, was spiteful and lacked any homely grace. Donald Ban found himself very attracted to Barbara but the better part of his nature knew that Mary was the more sensible choice to take as a wife.

An AI generated image of how Mary and Barbara may have looked.

On returning home from his visit to the widow's cottage, Donald found his mother in her final moments. Holding her close, Donald's mother expressed that she would very much like for Donald to marry Mary, whom she had known since infant hood and believed would make the ideal wife for him. Donald agreed tearful to his mother's last wishes as she passed into the next life while being held in his arms.

The proposal to Mary was gleefully accepted and the pair lived in wedded bliss for three years and had two children, a healthy baby girl and a bouncing baby boy. As fate would have it, Mary's mother passed away a short time after and as Barbara was unmarried, she came to live with Mary and Donald. If it was possible, Donald only found Barbara more beautiful than ever before and her charisma made him forget about the duties of being an attentive father and a loving husband. All day long he lusted after Barbara and daring glances were shot over Mary's head, who lived in complete ignorance as to the blossoming romance between them. Donald truly felt he was at breaking point as he tried to subdue his manly urges and ever growing lust.

One hot Summer's day, Donald was out working on his croft and the open door of the cottage exposed a scene of homely bliss - Mary stood in the kitchen making oatcakes, the two children playing on the floor while the family collie dog guarded them softly. Barbara was knitting in a chair in the corner. Donald thought to himself while grafting in the hot sun, what a lucky man he was to truly have it all. Once the children had fallen asleep that afternoon, Mary told Barbara that she was going to the beach to collect dulse, Donald’s favourite food, to prepare for supper that evening. Mary took her woven basket down to the shore and as the tide was out, began climbing and walking over the rocks which were now above tide. Excited by the prospect of bringing her husband some joy this evening with her meal but exhausted by the heat of the day and the tasks of Motherhood, Mary took the opportunity to lay down on the rocks and cool off. She soon fell into a deep sleep, basket by her side.

Barbara was now bored of domestic chores and sought out to find her sister, if only to gibe and torment her for entertainment. On finding Mary asleep on the rocks with the tide coming in, her usually pretty face became twisted in a cruel smile, so delighted by the thought of torturing her sister that she transformed into that of a she-demon. She turned and quickly ran back to find Donald to tell him that she had found something interesting on the rocks. Donald put down his tools and hastened to follow her. On arriving at the shore, Barbara shot Donald a look of cold desire and instantly a silent pact was made between them forged in cold blood.

AI generated image of Mary preparing to lay down on the rocks.

The tide was now within a yard of sleeping Mary and in a few moments, the water would swallow her entirely if she was not wakened quickly. With speed, Barbara and Donald waded into the waist high water and unwound poor Mary's hair, knotting it into the seaweed below the rocks. In just a few moments, the tide would wake Mary but there would be no chance of escape for her. Now standing on the shore, Barbara and Donald watched as the tide reached Mary’s head, who woke peacefully at first and then in abject terror. Clutching at her hair, she tried to undo the knots in the seaweed but it was no use. Pulling and pulling on her golden blonde hair made no difference, the knots were too tight and the tide was coming in fast.

In desperate panic, she screamed and tried to keep her head above the cold water which came in waves about her. Mary frantically looked to the shore screaming for help only to find her sister and husband watching with no intention of helping save her life. When her pleas were unanswered she became aware of the deed done. Barbara watched on in delight, rubbing her hands together and jumping for joy, maintaining eye contact until Mary had succumbed to her death by drowning while Donald had ran back to his croft covering his ears before his wife’s very last moments. He could not bear to hear the death agonies of his wife. Barbara however stayed until the very end as her sister’s head bobbed in the water, face down.

AI generated image of Mary’s hair tangled and knotted in the seaweed.

By Mary's death, an obstacle was removed from the guilty pair but they were not happy. Donald lived in torturous remorse while Barbara seemed indifferent, even to him. Nothing thrived with Donald as it once had done - his harvests failed and his croft tell to ruin. He received no help from any of his neighbours who shunned him after the death of his wife and his new immediate relationship with her sister. Donald was wracked by guilt and grew increasingly depressed and morose. Barbara changed too - she was never suited for homely duties but now she was simply neglectful and grew disdainful of Donald, whom she no longer liked to be in the same room with.

The one year anniversary of Mary's death arrived and Donald was in a deep depression. He no longer had comfort, love, a thriving croft or any joy in his life at all. Instead he came home to a woman, as beautiful as she was, who only lived to mock him and seemed to genuinely dislike him to a contemptuous degree. What he had done to his wife was considered the highest sin and he had set about the demise of a life who had helped save his own. Not only was his character as a man broken, but his heart too. That night, Donald and Barbara retired to their bed, the clouds thick and heavy with thunder and a hum of electricity in the air. Donald tossed and turned but could not sleep, preoccupied by the feeling of approaching doom.

The storm began and lightening forked the sky, illuminating their loveless bedroom with each flash. He could hear the sea and the lashing of waves on the shore. Once again he was reminded how he had sacrificed his darling wife, Mary, for no justifiable reason other than lust when she had saved his own life just years before. As midnight struck, a bold of lightening splintered a tree nearby and the ghost of his murdered wife appeared before him. Terrified into idiocy, scrambling to sit upright in bed, he watched as the spectre of Mary gave him a sorrowful look with dripping wet hair and walked across the hallway to her two sleeping children. Another huge bolt of lightening struck, this time on the side of the cottage where Barbara and Donald lay in bed. In an instant, the storm cleared and a calm night resumed.

As the sun rose the next morning, the villagers visited each house to inspect the damage and do repairs as they went. On coming by Barbara and Donald's cottage, they found one side of the cottage roof completely caved in by lightening strike, still smouldering in the early morning light. As they lifted the charred rafters, they found the burnt, disfigured remains of Barbara and Donald. The villagers entered the home to find the children who, on relief, were unharmed and still sleeping soundly in their beds.

Was this Mary’s revenge?

Copyright by Laura McParland taken from antique sources.

Not to be re-distributed in any form online or in publishing without written consent by the author.

AI generated image - was this Mary’s revenge?