The Story of Angus McMillen: the first Highlander of Houghton
Written by Ruth Brooks Luckey, on the occasion of Inaugurating the Highlanders Concept 
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In the hills of Allegany, high above the rambling river,
(Genesee the river’s name is,)
Stood McMillen Divelt, the Highlander, Angus.
From his native Scottish mountains,
Far he’d journeyed o’er the ocean,
Searching for another homeland,
Crossed the dark and stormy ocean
Till he reached our country’s shoreline.
There the Highlander paused briefly,
Seeking land where he might settle,
But the lowlands did not please him,
So he left the coastal cities,
Left the fertile plains behind him,
Trudged the footpaths leading inland
Till he came upon the river.
(Genesee the river’s name is.)
There he found a rugged country, --
Hills and trees, sharp crags, and boulders.
 
There McMillen found his homeland.
So he built a sturdy cabin
In the hills of Allegany,
High above the rambling river.
From the cabin, the Highlander
Looked across the widening valley,
Saw the smoke rise from the campfires
From the Seneca encampment,
Keepers of the Western Door, men called them.
 
Once, McMillen riding homeward,
Heard the groans of one who suffered,
Turned aside and found an Indian,
Lying injured by an oak tree,
Where his stumbling horse had thrown him.
There McMillen took the warrior,
Put him gently on his pony,
Brought him to his own small cabin.
In the days and weeks that followed,
McMillen’s family nursed him,
Helped him back to strength and vigor.
Copperhead, the Indian’s name was,
Came to know and love the settlers,
Told them stories of his people,
Told them tales of Gaoyadeo,
“Place of Heavenly rest,” he called it.
And the legends of the longhouse,
Shenawana, “House of brave men.”
 
Then the great Canal was started.
Men dug hard and long to build it.
Angus labored with the best men
To install the locks and Portage,
Circumnavigate the rapids.
The Highlander felled the pine trees,
Took his mighty axe and cut them,
Made great rafts and floated timber,
Down the new canal and lakeward,
Tall pine masts for mighty vessels
Sailing on our lakes and ocean.
 
‘Came new men into the valley,
Boatmen driving mules or horses.
A rough lot these men were, many
Loved to drink, carouse, and gamble
McMillen saw the Creek town changing
Jockey Street, the skilled men called it.
Noise-filled taverns lined the roadway,
Inns where boatman laid their wages,
Betting on the Sunday races.
 
Then McMillen joined a farmer – boatman,
Who was different from the others,
Tied his boat up on each Sabbath.
He joined Ed Palmer in his praying
For the raucous Houghton village,
Prayed it might be known for goodness,
As it then was known for evil.
 
Then McMillen in his journeys,
Up and down the river valley
Met a man named Willard Houghton,
A young farmer with a vision
For young people in his country.
McMillen drove the horse and buggy,
As they travelled on the farm roads
Seeking out the farmers’ children,
Giving them bright cards with pictures,
Telling stories from the Bible.
“Sunday School Man” they called Willard.
Angus helped him and the families
That had need of shoes or clothing
To be worn at Sunday meetings.
Willard Houghton had a vision
For a school for poor men’s children.
And he labored for this project,
Often helped by the Highlander,
Traveled much and lectured often,
Taking pledges for a building.
IN the early 1880’s,
On the land given by the Tuckers,
There was built a fine brick building,
Built to house the school they’d worked for,
Houghton Seminary opened.
 
From the hills of nearby Short Tract,
For the new school’s second session,
Came the student with the name of Luckey.
McMillen learned about his prowess
In the field of mathematics,
Heard his family too were Scotsmen,
Though they’d dropped the “Mac” from Luckey.
McMillen feeling the youth had promise,
Sometimes helped him with expenses,
Saw him graduate from Houghton,
Then teach and be its principal.
 
As the seminary prospered,
Tucker’s Hills was too confining,
So the move was made up northward
To the earlier Houghton Homestead.
McMillen burned bricks for the buildings,
Raised the bell into the tower,
Built the dorms called Gaoyades.
 
James S. Luckey had been studying –
Oberlin first, and then at Harvard.
Had his masters when they called him,
Called him back to be there leader
Of the school on Houghton’s hillside,
Called him back to build a college,
Low in cast, but high in standards,
Based on Willard Houghton’s vision,
Founded on the Rock Christ Jesus.
 
McMillen stood behind the efforts
To establish four-year college,
Saw the first degrees presented.
When the chapel bell announced
Houghton’s first accreditation,
McMillen led the cheer and marching
Led the school in celebration!
 
Came a time when President Luckey
Sought a man to follow after,
To take up the office’s burdens.
Then there came a Michigander,
Stephen Paine, a young Greek scholar.
He came to teach and serve the college,
Serve as dean and learn from Luckey.
McMillen mourned the President’s passing,
Bur rejoiced to know the young man,
President Paine, the country’s youngest,
When he came into the office.
With God’s help, the schools expanded.
Some, 200 walked the campus,
Now a dozen buildings stand here.
Mighty athletes test their mettle,
Show their skill against all corners.
 
Years have passed,
The timeless Scotsman Highlander McMillen,
Still lives on in Houghton legend.
With the skirling of his bagpipes,
Cheers its students on to triumph,
In the hills of Allegany,
High above the rambling river.