Feudal Scotland was never short of blood-soaked drama, but few stories capture the raw tension of betrayal and vengeance quite like the assassination of Sir Humphrey Colquhoun of Luss in 1592. Set against the backdrop of clan rivalries and the shadowed corridors of Bannachra Castle, this chilling event is less folklore and more factual murder mystery—complete with a treacherous servant, a stone staircase, and an arrow loosed in deadly silence.
This is not only a tale of one man’s death but also a window into the violent codes of loyalty and revenge that shaped Scotland’s Highland clans.
A Castle, a Clan, and a Conflict
Bannachra Castle, perched above the western bank of Loch Lomond near the Gareloch, was a stronghold of the Colquhouns of Luss, one of the oldest landed families in Dunbartonshire. In the 16th century, the Colquhouns were enmeshed in a tangled web of feuds with neighboring clans—particularly the MacGregors, whose reputation for retribution was legendary. Land, marriage alliances, and inherited grudges created a climate of perpetual tension, punctuated by raids and retaliations.
Sir Humphrey Colquhoun had inherited both the estate and its enmities. He held significant judicial and military influence in the region, including the ceremonial office of coronator of Dunbartonshire, which he had purchased. Despite this prestige, he could not escape the bitter consequences of feudal politics and personal vendettas.
The Treachery on the Staircase
One night in 1592, Sir Humphrey sought refuge in Bannachra, likely sensing danger from his enemies. But the enemy had already infiltrated the castle walls—not with swords, but with betrayal.
A servant in the household, either coerced or complicit, guided Sir Humphrey up a narrow stone staircase. As he ascended, a torch or lantern was deliberately lit, casting his silhouette against the cold stone walls—a perfect target for hidden archers. Moments later, a shaft from a longbow pierced the darkness, finding its mark in the laird of Luss.
Sir Humphrey fell where he stood, either mortally wounded or killed outright. The ambushers—presumably members or allies of the MacFarlanes, possibly hired mercenaries—melted back into the hills. The motive remains rooted in a violent pattern of retaliations, clan politics, and longstanding animosity.
There are conflicting accounts of the event. One variant, detailed by Dr. MacLeay in his Memoirs of Rob Roy, alleges that Sir Humphrey insulted the Countess of Mar at a party in Edinburgh. Seeking vengeance, she arranged for MacFarlane—then an outlaw—to carry out the murder, which culminated in a more theatrical drag-and-kill scenario. Yet this retelling has been disputed for historical inaccuracy, notably placing Sir Humphrey at the Battle of Glenfruin, which occurred a decade later.
Still, the one consistent element across versions is the light on the staircase—a symbol of betrayal that has come to define the legend of Bannachra.
The Blood Stains That Wouldn’t Fade
According to local lore, the blood of Sir Humphrey stained the stone floor of Bannachra, and could still be seen for generations afterward. Whether these stains were literal or figurative, they embodied the enduring memory of the laird’s violent end. The castle itself fell into ruin not long after and today stands as a haunted relic, often visited by those curious about Scotland’s darker past.
Though time has softened the memory, the events at Bannachra remain a stark reminder of the lethal consequences of betrayal in feudal Scotland. In a world where honor was currency, and vengeance a sacred duty, a single light on a staircase could change the course of history.
Echoes in Stone
The ruins of Bannachra Castle still overlook the vale, silent and overgrown, but full of echoes. Visitors today often describe a sense of stillness and sorrow in its remains. While the arrow and the assassin are long gone, the tale persists in local storytelling, oral tradition, and historical texts.
It’s a story that exemplifies the brutal, passionate, and unforgiving world of clan Scotland—a time when castles were both sanctuaries and traps, and the greatest danger could come from within.