meat or vegetables. This seems to have been a popular drink in olden
times. When the Lord of the Isles kept state at Duntulm Castle in Skye,
no one was admitted into the potentate’s body-guard unless he could
take the vessel (diorcal), containing the liquid, with one hand from
his companion, take his own mouthful, and pass it on to the next. In
the Island of Mull, adjoining the Sound, and opposite Ardtornish, once
the seat of the Lords of the Isles, there is a place, probably deriving
its name from some fancied resemblance to this dish, called Loch
Diorcal.
[11] Moy Castle is situated near the modern mansion-house of Lochbuie,
and the reference appears to be to it in the Gaelic text. (Ed.)
[12] MacFadyens were said by one of the clan, of whose judgment and
intelligence the writer has cause to think very highly, to have been
the first possessors of Lochbuie, and when expelled, that they became
a race of wandering artificers, (_Sliochd nan òr-cheard_--the race of
goldsmiths), in _Beinn-an-aoinidh_ and other suitable localities in
Mull. The race is a very ancient one, but it has often been noticed
that they are without a chief.
[13] _Clàraineach_ means one on boards. A person losing the use of
his limbs, and going on all fours, with boards or pieces of wood
below his hands and knees, and with which he could more easily drag
himself over the ground. When placed sitting, he could not move. In
olden times the defects of humanity, which are now relieved by many
means, were left entirely to chance or very simple aids, and were the
objects of malevolent persecution, rather than of charitable or kindly
consideration.
[14] _Na ceithir ràimh_ (the four oars)--fled upon all fours. (Ed.)
MAC NEIL OF BARRA, AND THE LOCHLINNERS.
The Lochlinners came to Barra at one time and they put Mac Neil to
flight. He escaped to Ireland, where he remained. When his sons
grew up, they heard themselves continually twitted as strangers,
and called “Barraich.” They resolved to find out the reason of this
treatment, and one day, while at dinner, they demanded from their
father an explanation of their being called by such an uncommon name
as “Barraich” (Barraidhich); but he replied that the mention of that
name caused him the deepest sorrow, and forbade them ever to mention
it in his hearing again. “We will never eat a bite nor drink a drink
again,” they said, “till we know what the word means.” He then
explained the name and told them all that happened to him and how he
had to suffer indignity and scorn as long as his powerful enemies
the Norsemen held his lands. His sons on hearing the cause of their
father’s banishment resolved to try every means in their power to
recover their inheritance. They began to fit out a galley (_bìrlinn_),
and when it was completed with masts, sails, oars, crew and compass,
and in readiness to go away, their father gave them the point to Barra
Head, and said, that if the man he left at Barra was still there, and
whose name was Macillcary (Mac’ille-charaich), he would direct them
straight to the place where they were to go to in search of their
enemies. Thus it happened (_’s ann mar sin a bhà_). They found the man
and told him who they were and the purpose for which they came. He bade
them steer for Castle Bay (_Bàigh-a’-chaisteil_) and a light on the
right-hand-side as they entered. They reached the house where the light
was, but could get no entrance. They climbed to the roof, and looking
through an opening saw a poor old man who was weeping bitterly. They
called to him that they were friends, and on admitting them he told
them how that day he had been paying his rent to the Lochlinners and
wanted a few marks of it, for this they threatened him that if he did
not return with the balance of the rent, he would receive next day at
noon a certain number of lashes. The Mac Neils then told their errand,
and the old man joyfully showed them the most direct and secret way to
the Castle, in which was a well of pure water whose source was unknown.
They took the castle, and went on to Kinloch (Ceannloch), and cleared
Vaslam as well. They then sent word to their father, who came with a
band of followers to their help, and others, native born, whom he had
formerly known, and on whose friendship he could rely, as soon as the
tidings of his return reached them, joined his band. An unacknowledged
son whom he had left, came among the rest to his assistance. This son,
from the circumstance, was known as Mac-an-amharuis (the son of doubt).
When he put forward his claim, Mac Neil replied, “If you are a son
of mine, prove it by clearing Eilean Fiaradh, before morning, of my
enemies.” “Give me the means then,” Mac-an-amharuis answered, “and I
will not leave the blood of one of the race in any part or place (_’s
cha’n fhàg mi fuil fìneig dhiubh ’an àite na’n ionad_).” Mac Neil gave
him his own sword, and that night while the Lochlinners, who had been
carousing heavily, slept soundly, he made his way and got secretly in
to the castle which stands on an inlet before Eoligarry castle, eight
miles from Castle Bay, and killed the inmates where they lay. It is
said that their bodies are still to be seen when a violent storm drifts
the sand hither and thither over the fort (_tigh-dìon_) where they were
slain. From that day Mac Neil had his own rights.
FINLAY GUIVNAC.
At the time MacLean of Dowart was proprietor of Tiree, this man,
_Fionnladh Guibhneach_, was living near a small bay, _Port-nan-long_,
in Balemartin, on the south side of the island (_air an leige deas_).
There was no other joinersmith but himself, or rather, there was none
to equal him in skill in the five islands (_anns na còig eileanan_).
Balemartin and Mannal were in those days one farm-holding, and there
were few people in the township. The change-house (_tigh-òsd_) was at
the streamlet Gedans (_amhuinn Ghoidean_), between Island House, the
proprietor’s residence, and the shore. At this time, also, there was
fosterhood (_comhaltas_) between MacLeod of Dunvegan and MacLean of
Tiree, by which they were bound to give proof of friendship for each
other at whatever cost or whenever there was occasion on either side,
and MacLeod, being in need of Finlay Guivnac’s service, came with his
boat (_bìrlinn_) to Tiree for him. He landed at _Port-nan-long_ (the
creek of sailing ships), and on reaching Island House was heartily
welcomed by MacLean. When he asked for Finlay, he was told that he had
not been at Island House for some days, “and it is not a good day when
I do not see him,” MacLean said. MacLeod said he came to take Finlay
with him for a year’s service; that all care would be taken of him,
and if no misfortune or mischance befell either of them, he himself
would bring him home at the end of the year. When MacLean heard this
he said they would go in search of Finlay. They went, and as they were
crossing the common (_an clar macharach_), between the house and the
streamlet, they met Finlay, who, having recovered from the attack of
ill-humour, was, as was usually his daily custom, on his way to Island
House. MacLeod asked after his health, and if he was yet able to do
as good work as ever. Finlay said that in place of getting weaker as
he got older, he was daily gaining in strength and vigour (_neart’s
tàbhachd_); he was more active in walking, and could see better than
he had ever done. MacLeod said he was surprised to hear that, as in
Skye people were failing in strength and activity as they became
older, “and it is curious that it is different with you.” Finlay said
he knew he was better now at walking and was gaining his eyesight, as
formerly he could jump over Sorabai stream, but now he walked to the
ford to get across; and when he was younger, if he saw a person, it
was as one, but now it was as two and three. They took Finlay with
them to the change-house. When pledging MacLean’s health, MacLeod, as
was customary, said, “Wishing to get my wish from you, MacLean” (_Mo
shainnseal ort, Mhic’illeathain_).
“You are welcome to have your wish freely gratified” (_’S e beatha le
sainnseal_),[15] MacLean replied. “My wish is that I may get Finlay
with me,” MacLeod said. In returning the compliment MacLean said, “My
wish is that I may keep Finlay to myself.” “But I do not ask to keep
him always,” MacLeod said. They then settled the wages, and agreed
between them that Finlay should go to Dunvegan, on the west coast
of Skye, for a year’s work, and lest he should be kept longer than
that time, MacLean was to go with him. When Finlay went home and told
his wife about the journey he was to take, she said to him, “You are
very foolish to go so far away, when MacLean is giving you a good
livelihood.” “I must go at any rate, and you must come with me,” he
said, and told her how he was not to remain in Skye, and that MacLean
himself was going with him to make sure he would not be kept there,
and that she was to go with them. “How can I do that,” she said, “when
MacLean will not allow a woman in the same boat with him?” “I will put
you in a hogshead,” he said, “and when we reach Dunvegan there will
be feasting and enjoyment, and when the nobility of MacLeod (_maithibh
Siol Leòid_) are gathered, you will come in among the company as a poor
woman, and I will manage the rest in such a way as that you may perhaps
earn more than myself.” She consented to this, and he put her at night
with sufficient provision in the boat. They reached Dunvegan safely
(_le deadh shoirbheachadh_). Finlay’s wife got away unnoticed from
the boat, and waited at a house near till the festivities began. When
the crew and those who came in the boat reached the castle, there was
much rejoicing; an abundant feast was provided, and company gathered,
and the usual customs when tables were spread and guests invited, were
observed. Among those who came to the gathering was a dependent of
good position, who, through some trifling cause, had lost the favour
of MacLeod. Finlay observed that he kept aloof from the company, and
having ascertained the cause, advised him to pledge MacLeod’s health,
and at the same time make his grievance known. He took the advice, and
said,
“Esteemed was I in MacLeod’s house
When justice sat in his land,
And I am a forgotten son to-night
At the time of drawing in to wine (drinking),
But this to you, son of Dark John,
Who came in to-day or yesterday,
I am the son of a hero
Who was here in the past,
Though I cannot to-day
Get the hill for my cattle.”
(“Bu mhùirneach mise ’an tigh Mhic Leòid
’Nuair shuidh a’ chòir ’n a thìr,
’S mac dì-chuimhnicht’ mi ’n nochd ’n a theach
’An àm tarruing a steach gu fion,
Ach sud ortsa, mhic Iain Duibh,
A thàinig stigh an diugh no ’n dé,
Mise mac suinn a bh’ ann riamh
Ged nach fhaigh mi ’n diugh an sliabh g’ am spréidh.”)
“Good youth,” MacLean said, “go you to Mull and I will give you land
(_fearann_) there.” He said,
“I was a hero’s son last year,
But I am a son of sorrow this year;
If I am put under a third weight,
I will be a son of Mull next year.”
(“Bu mhac suinn mi an uiridh,
Ach mac mulaid mi ’m bliadhna;
Ma chuireas iad orm tuille treise,
’S mac Muileach mi air an ath-bhliadhna.”)
“MacLeod’s own lands are not yet exhausted,” MacLeod said, and he
restored him to his former place and privileges, and he never had to go
to Mull or anywhere else for land.
During this time Finlay kept looking for his wife’s appearance, and
whenever he saw her in the doorway he called out to her, “Poor woman!
what has brought you here? It must be some pressing need that made you
come among the nobles of the Clan Leod to-night. Tell your story, and
sure am I they will one and all be willing to give you help, and that
they will not let you away as empty-handed as you have come.” She said
she was a poor woman who was bringing herself through life honestly as
she best could, with help from those who took notice of her poverty and
gave her charity, and that she came to the nobles of the Clan Leod,
as they were gathered at this time, to try if they would help her.
“Let your countrymen do as they like,” Finlay said, “I will give you a
calving cow (_mart-laoigh_).” MacLean looked at him in astonishment,
and it was no wonder, when he heard him give away the only cow the
poor woman in Balemartin had to the northern wife (_do ’n chaillich
thuathaich_). Everyone of the nobles present gave her a similar gift,
till she had the nine cows. When the company left, and MacLean had an
opportunity of speaking to Finlay, he said to him, “What made you give
the only cow you had to the northern wife?” “Do you know who the wife
is?” Finlay said. “What do I care what wife she is or was,” MacLean
said. “It was just my own wife who was there and got all the cows, and
you need not give her yours till you return home,” Finlay said. “And
how did you bring her here?” MacLean asked. “Ods! MacLean,” he said,
“just in the big hogshead at your feet in the galley.” “No death will
ever happen to you but to be hanged for your quirks” (_cha tig bàs
ortsa ’m feasd ach do chrochadh le d’ raoitean_), MacLean said, and
he advised him to send the cattle to Mull, till they could be ferried
to Tiree. Finlay took the advice, and sent his wife and the cows to
MacLean’s place at Benmolach, on the north-west side of Mull, and she
got them to Balemartin, where MacLean on his return home sent her his
own gift.
Finlay began his work and went on diligently with it that he might
be ready at the end of the year to return home, and MacLeod came
frequently where he was, more to hear what he had to say than to see
the progress he was making with his work. One day, happening to find
him at his breakfast, and observing that Finlay began at the back with
a shape of butter (_measgan-ìme_) that was set before him, MacLeod
asked him when he had finished, why he did not begin at the front of
it. “I took it just from back to front as was wont at MacLean’s table,
where the measures were round (_far nach biodh na measgain ’n am
bloidhean_)” On another occasion MacLeod found him paring a remnant of
cheese (_cùl càise_), and asked him when he had learned to pare cheese.
“Since I came to MacLeod’s Castle,” he said: “it was not the custom
to put a remnant on the inviting, merry, bountiful table in MacLean’s
house (_air bòrd fiughaireach, aighearach, fialaidh Mhic’illeathain_).”
When the year had expired, MacLean, as had been agreed on, went to
bring Finlay home. He was cordially received by MacLeod and was
enjoying, after his journey, the usual hospitalities prepared for
guests of his rank, when he heard the sound of Finlay’s hammer: “My
loss! (_mo chreach!_),” he said, “I have too long delayed going
where Finlay is.” When he reached him, he said, “Excuse me, Finlay, I
have been rather a long time of coming where you are.” “I know that,
MacLean,” he said,
“The object of my contempt is the small table
Where meanness would be (found):
The object of my praise was the well filled table
Where proud heroes sat.
You did not take in Finlay Guivnac
Nor remember him till the last.”
(“B’e mo laochan am bòrd suaile
Air am bitheadh na laoich mheamnach:
Cha d’ thug thusa stigh do ghobhainn Guibhneach,
’S cha do chuimhnich thu e gu anmoch.”)
MacLean then asked after his welfare during the year, and said among
other things, he would like to hear what were his opinions of the women
of the MacLeod country since his coming among them. “Well, I will tell
you that,” Finlay said,
“If all the women of the Clan MacLeod,
Small and great, old and young,
Were gathered in one body,
It would be one right one I would make out of them.”
(“Ged bhiodh mnathan Sìol Leòid,
Beag is mòr, sean ’s crìon,
Air an càradh ’an aona bhodhaig
’S e aona bhean chòir a dheanainn dhiubh.”)
“They will not be well pleased with your words.” “They will be better
pleased with my words than I have been with their ways,” Finlay said;
“I see it is time to return to Tiree,” MacLean said.
When Finlay went to get payment from MacLeod before leaving, and as
they were conversing together after settling between them, MacLeod
said he would lay a wager that the peats of Tiree would not burn so
well as the peats of Skye. “What is your opinion, Finlay?” MacLean
asked; “Shall I accept the wager?” “Well, as a matter of indifference
I will wager they will not burn as well as those of the White Moss
in Tiree (_Leòra! cuiridh mise geall uach gabh iad co maith ri mòine
Bhlàir-bhàin ’an Tireadh_),” Finlay said, and the wager was laid. “I
will try another wager,” MacLeod said, “that our dogs will thrash the
MacLean dogs.” This wager was also accepted, and MacLeod came to Tiree
with them, bringing peats and dogs with him in the galley. On putting
the wagers to the test, the Skye peat when kindled lighted brightly
with a great flare, but was soon burnt out. MacLean then asked if they
would try the Tiree kind now. As none had been brought by the servants,
and as it had previously been agreed on between them, MacLean asked
Finlay to go for them himself. Finlay said perhaps it would not be the
best that he would bring in. He went out, and gathering an armful of
peats took and steeped them one by one (_fòid an déigh fòid_) in a cask
of oil. When MacLeod saw them he said, “O man, how wet they are! (_O
dhuine, nach iad a tha fliuch_).” “The wetter they are, the livelier
they will burn (_mar a’ s fliuiche ’s ann a’ s braise iad_),” Finlay
replied, putting them on; and when they took fire they nearly burned
the house. “Did I not say they would burn better than those of Skye,”
Finlay said to MacLeod, “and you have lost the wager.” “Undoubtedly I
have,” the other replied. Next day the dog fight (_tabaid chon_) was to
be tried. Finlay rose early and gave his dogs the strongest “crowdie”
(_fuarag_, a mixture of milk and meal), and though they were smaller
when the fight began, MacLeod’s dogs could not hold one bout with them.
“It is surprising,” MacLeod said, “when one of my dogs is as big as two
of MacLean’s dogs.” “You need not be at all surprised,” Finlay said,
“those here are of the race of dogs that were in the land of the Fians
(_so sìolachadh nan con a bh’ aca ’s an Fhéinn_), and no other kind
need try their strength against them.” “If you were in the land of the
Fians, you came back, and no one need lay a wager with MacLean so long
as he has you with him.” MacLeod bade them farewell and returned home
(_Dh’ fhàg e beannachd aca ’s thill e dhachaidh_).
NOTES:
[15] _Sainnseal_ means the giving of a free gift, or handsel.
BIG DEWAR OF BALEMARTIN, TIREE.
He was John MacLean, a native of Dowart in the island of Mull, who
fled to Jura.[16] He is said to have been the first man from that
island who settled in Tiree, and on that account was known as Dewar
(_Diùrach_).[17] He and his seven sons were alike powerful and strong
men. They held the township of Balemartin (on the south side of Tiree),
including Sorabi, where a burying ground is, and where there was at one
time a chapel to which was attached the land of Sorabi garden. At this
time the people in the island were paying rent or tax (_cìs_), but it
was found impossible to make big John Dewar submit to pay the tax. The
first time any attempt was made to compel him to pay it, he took with
him his seven sons to Island-House, the proprietor’s residence, and put
them on the sward in front of the house (_air dòirlinn an eilein_),
saying, “This is the payment I have brought you, and you may take it or
leave it.” Another attempt to enforce payment from him ended as told in
the following account:--
One day when he and his sons were ploughing, two of the sons being at
Sorabi, as there were few people in the neighbourhood, and his sons
were at some distance from him, he had to go himself to the smithy to
repair the ploughshare (_a ghlasadh an t-suic_). It was the beginning
of summer, and he left the horses in the plough, eating the wild
mustard (_sgeallan_) in the field where he was ploughing, grass and
other herbage being scant. While their father was away at the smithy,
the sons who were at Sorabi, on taking a look seawards, observed a boat
(_bìrlinn_) coming in towards the shore. It kept its course for the
small bay of boats (_port nan long_), in Balemartin, and had on board a
very strong man called “Dark John Campbell” (_Iain Dubh Caimbeul_), who
was sent to collect the tax from those in the island who were unwilling
to pay it. He had an able crew with him in the boat. They landed,
and when they reached the place where Dewar was ploughing, the first
thing they did was to seize the horses in the plough (_na h-eich a bha
’s an t-seisreach_), to take them away in the boat as payment of the
tax. When they were almost ready to be off, Dewar came in sight on his
return from the smithy. On seeing the unwelcome strangers he quickened
his steps to intercept them, and took hold of the horses to take them
back. Campbell drew his sword, bidding him be off as fast as he could
or he would put his head beside his feet. Dewar drew his own sword and
said, “Come on and do all you are able.” The fray began between them,
and Dewar was driving Campbell, Inveraray, backwards until he put him
in among the graves (_lic_) in the burying-ground, and it so happened
that Campbell stumbled on MacLean’s cross and fell backwards. Before
he could raise himself Dewar got the upper hand of him. On seeing him
fall, his men were certain that he must have been killed, and they
went away with the horses to the boat and put off to sea. “Let me
rise,” Campbell said, “and I will give you my word that I will never
come again on the same errand.” “I will,” Dewar said, “but give me
your oath on that, that it will be as that (_gu ’m bi sin mar sin_).”
Campbell gave his word, “and more than that,” he said, “I will send you
the value of the horses when I reach Inveraray.” “You will now come
with me to my house,” Dewar said, “and you need not have fear or dread;
your house-quarters and welcome will not be worse than my own, till you
can find a way of returning home.” In the course of some days Campbell
got away, and he never returned again to “bullyrag” or intimidate any
one. On reaching Inveraray he was as good as his word. He sold the
horses and sent the price to Dewar, who was never compelled to pay the
tax.
NOTES:
[16] The cause of John Dewar’s flight to Jura is said to have been
occasioned by his having given information to MacLaine of Lochbuie
which was injurious to MacLean of Dowart, in a dispute that occurred
between them.
[17] Several of John Dewar’s descendants are at the present day in
Tiree. They are known as _na Diùraich_, one family who are descended
from the elder of his sons being cottars in Balemartin.
THE BIG LAD OF DERVAIG.