The literature of the Highlanders

by Nigel MacNeill

IRISH VERSIONS.

The early literature of the Scottish Gael cannot be well understood apart from early Irish literature. The ballads of the two countries describe the same struggles; the characters engaging in the strife are the same, and bear the same names. So it ought to be interesting to compare some of the idealised characters of early Irish literature with those that we find in Scotland.

The early history of Ireland and its literature has not yet been written, and the name remark is applicable to the Highlands of Scotland. One able and scientific work has been recently produced in the latter country—the learned three volumes of Dr W. F. Skene—“Celtic Scotland.” The indefatigable labours of the late Professor Eugone O’Curry have prepared the way for an authentic history of Ireland; and it is to be hoped that such works as those of the Gradys, Stokeses, &c., will clear the ground of fables and reveal the genuine lines of early Irish annals. In his “Lectures on the Manuscript Materials of Ancient Irish History,” O’Curry remarks—“It will be found that all the writers who have published books on the subject up to the time of delivering these lectures—books some of them large and elaborate—not one ever wrote who had previously acquired the necessary qualifications, or even applied himself at all to the necessary study, without which, as I think I have established beyond a doubt, the history of Ireland could not possibly have been written. All were ignorant, almost totally ignorant, of the greater part of the records and remains of which I have here, for the first time, endeavoured to present a comprehensive, and, in some sort, a connected account.” Irish scholars have an immense mass of valuable [ancient manuscripts] in which they find rich remains of their early literature, as well as materials for their early history. Let us mention some of the most important. Here is a list of some of the old and middle Irish periods:—

A copy of the Four Gospels, stained with the blood of the Irish St. Killian, who was martyred in 678 A.D.; taken from his tomb in 743. In the library of Trinity College, Dublin, are found—A Latin copy of the Four Gospels, written previous to 700 A.D.; the Four Gospels of Dimma, Latin, with a few Gaelic words, 620 A.D.; the Book of Durrow, containing the Four Latin Gospels, about 700 A.D.; the Book of Kells, same contents as last, about 800 A.D.; the Gospel of St. Moling, about 800 A.D.; the Book of Armagh, containing the Latin New Testament, notes on St. Patrick’s life, and the life of St. Martin of Tours, 807 A.D.; the Book of Leinster, containing the Cattle Raid of Cuailgne, and the Destruction of Troy, 1150 A.D.; the Yellow Book of Lecain, 1391 A.D; and the Book of Brehon Laws—the last-named three books are in the Irish language. In the Royal Irish Academy are the Book of the Dun Cow, also containing the Cattle Raid, 1106 A.D.; the Book of Ballymote, 1391 A.D.; also a copy of the Book of Lecain, 1416 A.D. These are all in the Irish language. Earlier dates than those given have been assigned to some of these books. These and the Annals of Loch Cè, the Annals of the Four Masters, the Annals of Tighernac, &c., are all of great interest and value to Gaelic scholars in Scotland. The ancient Celtic literature extant in Scotland cannot be at all compared in extent with that preserved in Ireland.

As already remarked, the picture of Ossian that the Irish ballads and tales present resembles that of the ballads and tales of Scotland. In the fourth volume of the Transactions of the Ossianic Society of Dublin, we find a description of the journey and residence of Ossian in Tir-nan-Og, “The Land of Youth.” In Scotland this place is known as Eilein-na-h-Oige, “The Isle of Youth.” Ossian and the rest of the Fianna were “hunting on a misty morning nigh the bordering shores of Loch Léin,” when a fleet rider was seen advancing towards them—

“A young maiden of most beautiful appearance,

On a slender white steed of swiftest power.”

The name of this maiden is “Niamh,” and she describes herself as the “fair daughter of the King of Youth.”

“A royal crown was on her head;

And a brown mantle of precious silk,

Spangled with stars of red gold,

Covering her shoes down to the grass.

“A garment, wide, long, and smooth,

Covered the white steed:

There was a comely saddle of red gold

And her light hand held a bridle with a golden bit.”

In answer to Fingal’s inquiry she says that, “as yet she has not been spoken of with any man,” but that “her affection and love she has given to his son”—Ossian. In these ballads and tales “geasan,” some bewitching obligations or bonds, are frequently spoken of. It was by the exercise of this power—these invisible bonds—that the faithless spouse of Fingal compelled the beautiful Diarmad to elope with her. This Princess, “the golden-headed Niamh,” put her “geasan” on Ossian. She thus addresses him:—

“Obligations unresisted by true heroes,

O! generous Oisin, I put upon thee,

To come with myself now upon my steed

Till we arrive at the ‘Land of Youth.’

“It is the most delightful country to be found,

Of greatest repute under the sun,

Trees dropping with fruit and blossom,

And foiliage growing on the tops of boughs.

“Abundant there are honey and wine,

And everything that eye has beheld,

There will not come decline on thee with lapse of time,

Death or decay thou wilt not see.”

He is to get there a “hundred swords,” and a hundred of every article or possession that could be dear to the heart of a warrior or a bard. Ossian thus replies:—

“No refusal will I give from me,

O charming queen of the golden curls!

Thou art my choice above the women of the world,

And I will go with willingness to the ‘Land of Youth.’”

The poet then describes in melancholy strains his parting with his own people—the Féinne:—

“I kissed my father sweetly and gently,

And the same affection I got from him;

I bade adieu to all the Fianna,

And the tears flowed down my cheeks.

“Many a delightful day had Fionn and I,

And the Fianna with us in great power,

Been chess-playing and drinking,

And hearing music—the last that was powerful?

“A hunting in smooth valleys,

And our sweet-mouthed dogs with us there;

At other times, in the rough conflict,

Slaughtering heroes with great vigour.”

Macpherson’s Ossian is never caught at “chess-playing,” or speaking of other things that might savour of more recent days. The course of Ossian and Niamh is thus described:—

“We turned our backs to the land,

And our faces directly due west;

The smooth sea ebbed before us,

And filled in billows after us.”

Before they arrive at the “Land of Youth,” Ossian rescues a distressed Princess from the hated hands of a giant; and

“We buried the great man

In a deep sod-grave, wide and clear;

I raised his flag and monument,

And I wrote his name in Ogham Cráobh.”

They are welcomed to the “Land of Youth” by a “multitude of glittering bright hosts,” and conducted to a Royal fortress, by whose side are seen—

“Radiant summer-houses and palaces,

Made all of precious stones.”

“When all arrived in one spot,

Then courteously spoke the ‘King of Youth,’

And said, ‘This is Ossin,’ the son of Fionn,

The gentle consort of ‘golden-headed Niamh!’”

He spent a long time in the “Land of Youth;” but in the midst of its calm, waveless existence, he longs for his old life with the Féinne, and for a sight once more of his lost brothers-in-arms:—

“I asked leave of the King,

And of my kind spouse—golden-headed Niamh,

To go to Erinn back again,

To see Fionn and his great host.”

She reluctantly consents to Ossian’s return; and the parting is bitterly sad to both:—

“I looked up into her countenance with compassion,

And streams of tears run from my eyes,

O Patrick! thou wouldest have pitied her

Tearing the hair of the golden head.”

She warns him on his return never to alight off the white steed, or—

“Thou wilt be an old man, withered and blind.”

On his arrival in Erin he sought, with a doubtful and trembling heart, for the Fianna. He soon met a great troop of men and women, who saluted him kindly, and were surprised at the bulk of his person, his form, and appearance. He asked them whether Fionn was alive, and whether any disaster had swept the Fianna away. He was told that a “young maiden” came for Fionn, and that he went away with her to the “Land of Youth:”—

“When I mysel heard that report,

That Fionn did not live, nor any of the Fianna,

I was seized with weariness and great sorrow,

And I was full of melancholy after them.”

The poet immediately betakes himself to “Almhuin” of great exploits in broad Leinster; but could not see the “Court of Fionn,” and—

“There was not in its place in truth,

But weeds, chick-weeds, and nettles.”

While passing through the Glen of the Thrushes he sees three hundred men before him: their leader cries for help to the bard, whose chivalrous instincts are roused, and who, forgetting the strict injunctions of Niamh not to touch the earth, alighted and relieved them from their difficulty, performing the most marvellous exploits. But alas!—

“No sooner did I come down,

Than the white steed took fright;

He went then on his way,

And I, in sorrow, both weak and feeble.”

He had been a long time in the “Land of Youth,” and intended going back to that country, perpetually “under the full bloom;” but now he could not. His stay in that land reminds us of the seven sleepers of Ephesus. He tells the everlastingly occurring Patrick—

“I spent a time protracted in length,

Three hundred years and more,

Until I thought ’twould be my desire

To see Fionn and the Fianna alive.”

The great prince-poet, as everywhere represented, is in his last days poor and blind. After declaring to Patrick that—

“There is many a book written down,

By the melodious sweet sages of the Gaels,

Which we in truth are unable to relate to thee,

Of the deeds of Fionn and of the Fianna;”

he concludes his lengthy relation in these two stanzas:—

“I lost the sight of my eyes,

My form, my countenance, and my vigour,

I was an old man, poor and blind,

Without strength, understanding, or esteem.

“Patrick! there is to thee my story,

As it occurred to myself without a lie,

My going and my adventures in certain,

And my returning from the ‘Land of Youth.’”

Such is the picture we have of Ossian and his life in some of the Irish ballads. There is no resemblance between this poetry and that which Macpherson has given us. Oisin an Tirna-h-Oige is the production of a writer who lived not many centuries ago. It is certainly much more modern than even the Oisian of the older ballads, in which dialogues between the saint and the poet occur.

A very fine specimen of the old heroic poem of the Gael is the Battle of Cnoc-an-air. Here we have terrible fighting among the “Seven battalions of the standing Fenians.” The Irish versions of the dialogues between Patrick and Ossian are very much like those of Scotland.

CHAPTER VII.
MEDIEVAL BARDS.

“Gach fili ’s bard, gach léigh, aosdan is draoi,

Gach seanachaidh fòs, gach eoladhain shaor is saoi;

Na diadhairean môr bu chliú, ’s bu ghloir do’n Chléir

B’ ann leath’ gu tarbhach labhair iad briathra Dhé.”—MacLean.

The unwise utterance of Dr Samuel Johnson that no Scottish Gaelic manuscript of an older date than last century existed is amply refuted by the catalogues of British, Irish, and Continental Libraries. Private individuals also are in possession of Gaelic manuscripts, some of which come to light now and then. In 1873 Admiral Macdonald sent to Mr J. F. Campbell of Islay the famous Leabhar Dearg, or Red Book of Clan-Ranald, which he had recovered. This was one of the manuscripts which Macpherson was supposed to have used and destroyed; but after having read it in company with Mr Standish O’Grady, Mr Campbell declares that this paper manuscript “does not contain one line of Macpherson’s Ossian.” It is highly probable that many others may have ancient manuscripts among their family archives like this one of Admiral Macdonald, the supposed destruction of which by Macpherson caused so much literary waste in connection with the Ossianic controversy.

There have been in Scotland many influences—changes dynastic, political, and ecclesiastical—unfavourable to the preservation of our manuscripts. In the midst of these turbulent changes and the ravages of wars, the vandal hands of foes that demolished churches and burned houses would not spare the native literary remains they might come across. We have lost much by the ravages of the Norse in Iona, of the English at Scone, and of the Reformers. But fresh access of national life came in each case.

It is not the intention of these chapters to describe at length the MSS. that we have left us, but a few of the older ones may be mentioned. The earliest, as already remarked, are to be found in Continental Libraries—those on which Zeuss founded his “Grammatica Celtica.” Some of them are no doubt Irish, but some of them must have been also written by the missionaries who went forth at that time from the College of Iona. The language and MSS. of that period in Ireland and Scotland were of the same character and were common property, and continued to be so to a great extent till the period of the Reformation, which, as above remarked, along with more violent political changes in Scotland before then, helped to destroy relics of preceding ages. The oldest Gaelic MS. extant in this country is a folio beautifully written on parchment or vellum from the collection of the late Major MacLauchlan of Kilbride. It is in the possession of the Highland Society, and is marked Vo. A., No. I. It is supposed to belong to the eighth century. The following remark is found on the margin of the fourth leaf: —“Oidche bealtne ann a coimhtech mo Pupu Muirciusa agus as olc lium nach marunn diol in linesi dem bub Misi Fithil acc furnuidhe na scoile.” It has been thus rendered by the late Dr Donald Smith:—“The night of the first of May, in Coenobium of my Pope Marchus, and I regret that there is not left of my ink enough to fill up this line. Jane Fithil, an attendant on the school.” The MS. “consists of a poem, moral or religious, some short historical anecdotes, a critical exposition of the Tain, an Irish tale.”

One of the next oldest is named “Emanuel,” and is ascribed to the ninth century. Thirty-five lines are quoted in the appendix of the Highland Society’s report.

There is a parchment book that is attributed to the tenth or eleventh century. It contains Biblical legends, a life of St. Columba, &c. It admits of no doubt that many Gaelic productions perished in the eighth century, when Iona was sacked by the Norse. And it is only a wonder that so many relics should have survived the ruthless changes of those days.

Bishop Moore, of Norwich, afterwards of Ely, presented his library, more than a century ago, to the University of Cambridge. Among his large collection of books was a vellum MS. of 86 folios, about six inches long by three broad. It is said that this MS. is as old as the ninth century. The principal part of it is written in Latin, and contains John’s Gospel and portions of the other three Gospels, the Apostles’ Creed, and part of an Office for the visitation of the sick. It belonged to an establishment of the Culdee Church, and is an interesting relic of the Celtic learning and culture of the time, particularly of the ecclesiastics of that Church, who, while cultivating their native Gaelic, could also read and write Latin. To the Gaelic scholar the chief interest lies in the Celtic portion of the MS.—the Gaelic entries made on the margin and on other spaces in the volume. The MS. was published some years ago by the Spalding Club, under the excellent editorship of the late Dr John Stuart, who has given us the Gaelic entries as well as the original in a scholarly and careful fashion. A Gaelic paragraph on the founding of the old monastery of Deer has attracted much attention, on account of its reference to Columba, and because it shows the intimate connection that existed between the parent establishment at Iona and branch establishments in distant parts of Scotland.

The Legend of Deer is as follows:—

Columcille acus drostán mac cósgreg adálta tangator áhí marroalseg día doíb gonic abbordobóir acus béde cruthnec robomormáer buchan aragínn acus essé rothídnaig dóib ingathráig sáin insaere gobraíth ómormaer acus óthóséc. tangator asááthle sen incathraig ele acus doráten ricolumcille sí iarfallán dórath dé acus dorodloeg arinmormáer .i. bédé gondas tabrád dó acus níthárat acus rogab mac dó galár iarnéré na gleréc acus robomaréb act mádbec iarsén dochuíd inmormáer dattác na glerec góndendaes ernacde les inmac gondisád slánte dó acus dórat inedbairt doíb nácloic intiprat goníce chlóic pette mic garnáit doronsat innernacde acus tanic slante dó; Iarsén dorat collumcille dódrostán inchadráig sén acus rosbenact acus foracaib imbrether gebe tisad ris nabab blienec buadacc tangatar deara drostán arscartháin fri collumcille rolaboir collumcille bedeár áním óhúnn ímácc.

Translation:

(Columcille and Drostán of Gosgrach his pupil came from I as God had shown to them unto Abbordoboir and Bede the Pict was mormaer of Buchan before them, and it was he that gave them that town in freedom for ever from mormaer and tosech. They came after that to the other town, and it was pleasing to Calumcille, because it was full of God’s grace, and he asked of the mormaer to wit Bede that he should give it to him; and he did not give it; and a son of his took an illness after [or in consequence of] refusing the clerics, and he was nearly dead [lit. he was dead but if it were a little.] After this the mormaer went to entreat the clerics that they should pray for the son that health should come to him, and he gave in offering to them from Cloch in tiprat to Cloch pette mic Garnait. They made the prayer, and health came to him. After that Calumcille gave to Drostán that town and blessed it and left as (his) word, “Whosoever should come against it, let him not be prosperous.” Drostán’s tears (deara) came on parting with Calumcille. Said Calumcille, “Let Dear be its name henceforward.”)

According to this legend it seems that King Brude’s court at Inverness was not the only distant place visited by the Iona Apostle, but that he also went as far east as the district of Buchan. The other chief Gaelic entries are records of grants of land made by the Monastery. The majority of the names entered, though mere patronymics then, became some time after clan names as understood at the present day. It was then or very soon after that the ancient inhabitants of Celtic Albin began to form themselves into clans in the state in which they were found two centuries ago. The systems of feudalism and clanship began to blend and develop. Towards the end of the MS. the following interesting Gaelic entry is found:—“Forchubus caichduini imbia arrath in lebran colli aratardda bendacht foranmain in truagan rodscribai.” This has been translated by the distinguished Celtic scholar Dr Whitley Stokes thus—“Be it on the conscience of every one in whom shall be for grace the booklet with splendour; that he give a blessing on the soul of the wretchock who wrote it.” The same eminent authority says—“In point of language this is identical with the oldest Irish glosses in Zeuss’s Grammatica Celtica.” This precisely proves what has been elsewhere already stated, that the Gaelic of Scotland and Ireland at that time was exactly the same, and that it was at a later period that dialectic differences appeared. It also suggests that many of old existing MSS. might have been written by Scotchmen as well as by Irishmen.

The most ancient and authentic record of the Scottish Kings is to be found in a poem called “The Albannic Duan,” which was recited by the Gaelic bard-laureate of the day at the coronation of Malcolm III. It was found originally in the MacFirbis Manuscript in the Royal Irish Academy. The name of the author is not known. The Duan consists of one hundred and eight lines, and is composed in the ballad measure. Being mostly a catalogue of names, it does not bear a verse translation very well. The first four stanzas run thus:—

Ye learned men of Albin all,

Ye yellow-haired and gentle band,

Who first invaded, do you know,

The ancient shore of Albin land?

Albanus came with active men,

That son of Isacon of fame,

Brother of blameless Briutus he;

From him did Albin get its name.

Briutus sent his brother bold

Across the stormy sea of Icht,

The sea-swept point of Fotudan

In Albin fair he took with might.

Long after Briutus, brave and good,

The Nevi-clans the land enjoyed;

And Erglan, who came from his ship

When he had Conning tower destroyed.

It was probably in this reign that the ancient language of Albin ceased to be used in the Royal Court of Scotland. It continued, however, to be the fashionable speech of the provincial princes of the Isles until the lordship of the Isles terminated, towards the end of the sixteenth century, with Angus MacDonald of Duneevaig, Islay, and the Glens in Antrim. Sir James Macdonald of Antrim, who had no English, came with a magnificent retinue to visit James IV. of Scotland at Holyrood previous to his ascending the throne of England, and stopped for some time at Court. Could the King, with whom Sir James was a great favourite, and to whom he was closely related, converse with him in the Gaelic language?

There is a parchment manuscript in quarto that belonged to the Kilbride collection. It is prettily written, and contains a metrical account or list of holidays, festivals, and saints’ days throughout the year; an almanack; and a treatise on anatomy, abridged from Galen, &c.; the Schola Salernitana in Leonine verse, drawn up about 1100 A.D., for the use of Robert, Duke of Normandy, the son of William the Conqueror, by the well-known medical school of Salerno. The Latin text is accompanied by a faithful Gaelic explanation. A specimen follows:—

“Sivis incolumem, sivis te reddere sanum;

Curas tolle graves, irasci crede prophanum.”

Gaelic—

“Madh ail bhidh fallann agus madh aill bhidh slan;

Cuirna himsnimha tromadhit, agus creid gurub diomhain duit fearg de dhenumh.”

Having the words Leabhar Giollacholaim Meigleathadh on the last page of the MS., it is supposed that it belonged to Malcolm Bethune, a member of a family distinguished for their learning and medical skill, that supplied for many ages with physicians the Western Isles of Scotland. It was one of them, Fergus Mac Beth or Beaton, that signed the holograph, of the famous Islay Charter of 1408 for Donald, Lord of the Isles. A MS. dated 1238 on the cover is supposed to have been written at Glenmason, in Cowal. It contains tales in prose and verse—one about Deardri, Dearduil, or Darthula.

Another valuable and interesting MS., dated 1512-26, belonging to Sir James Macgregor, Dean of Lismore—“Jacobus M’Gregor decanus Lismorensis”—has been mostly published. The editors who have done their work admirably, have been Dr Thomas MacLauchlan and Dr W. F. Skene. The work of the former was very difficult and laborious—first to change the orthography of the Dean, which was phonetic, into modern Gaelic, and then give a literal English translation.

Among other known manuscripts of the period is that of Dunstaffnage, October 12, 1603, by Ewen Macphaill. It contains prose tales concerning Lochlin and Finnic heroes.

A paper manuscript 1654-5, by Edmond MacLauchlan, contains sonnets, odes, epistles, and an ogham alphabet at the end.

A quarto paper manuscript of 1690-91 contains ancient and modern tales and poems. It was written at Ardchonnail, on Lochawe side, by Ewen Maclean for Colin Campbell—“Caillain Caimpbel leis an leis an leabharan.” This Gaelic inscription appears on the seventy-ninth leaf of the manuscript.

In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we have arrived at a period in which Gaelic is very generally written. To the latter century belong the most of the manuscript materials extant. The subjects of these manuscripts are of the most various descriptions. We have among them compendiums of theology, fables and anecdotes about saints, &c. The most valuable, perhaps, are the genealogical manuscripts. The historian of Scottish annals is not sufficiently equipped without knowledge of these. Some of them no doubt, being family records very frequently, are very partial; but when collated the one will correct the other. Other subjects treated of in these manuscripts are medicine and astrology. The substance of these is translated from Greek and Moorish works, Galen, Averroes, and Avicenna being the general sources. The largest number of the medical manuscripts were written by or passed through the hands of the Beatons, the well-known physicians of the western isles. Astrology appears to have been studied by the aid of Arabian writers; so many of the superstitions or popular ideas in the Highlands regarding the stars had probably an Arabic, and not a Druidic origin, as the present Highlanders generally believe. The surprising thing is that this science of the period should be known and cultivated in such inaccessible places as the Highlands and Islands. Dr MacLauchlan very pertinently and truly remarks as follows:—“The metaphysical discussions [of the MSS.], if they may be so called, are very curious, being characterised by the features which distinguished the [science of metaphysics] at the time. The most remarkable thing is there are Gaelic terms to express the most abstract ideas in metaphysics—terms which are now obsolete, and would not be understood by any ordinary Gaelic speaker. A perusal of these ancient writings shows how much the language has declined, and to what an extent it was cultivated at an early period. So with astrology, its terms are translated and the science is fully set forth. Tables are furnished of the position of the stars, by means of which to foretell the character of future events. Whatever literature existed in Europe in the 14th and 15th centuries extended its influence to the Scottish Highlands. The nation was by no means in such a state of barbarism as some writers would lead us to expect. They had legal forms, for we have a formal legal charter of lands written in Gaelic; they had medical men of skill and acquirement; they had writers on law and theology, and they had men skilled in architecture and sculpture.” But then these manuscripts, these evidences of light and culture among the Gaels of the Middle Ages, were buried in private and public libraries till some years ago; and historians and others not suspecting their existence did not look for them; and so wrote what their fancy dictated concerning the barbaric Gael.

In examining the older MSS. and assigning them a nationality, the student of Celtic literature must bear in mind that the language spoken in the Highlands of Scotland and in Ireland in early times was exactly the same, and that the dialectic differences existing just now have mostly developed since the period of the Reformation. The literature that the two Gaelic peoples possessed till then was also to a great extent common property. As to their writing, what is called “Irish hand,” or vulgarly Erse, or “Irish character,” is nothing more than what was once common throughout the whole of Europe. It was in it Gaelic writers once wrote in Scotland; and thus is how some of our early MSS. have been assigned an Irish origin.

With the reign of Malcolm III., or Ceann-Mor, in the eleventh century, and his marriage with an English Princess, Scottish institutions and habits began to be radically affected. The Anglicising and Romanising processes at work were in their final stages in the Lowlands about the time of the last invasion of the Norse in the thirteenth century. Soon after the laws and customs of Scotland were found quite transformed. Feudalism was introduced, and began to extend even among the Highland chiefs and clans. The system of clanship, although having apparent points of resemblance to feudalism, was in principle essentially different. “In the former case the people followed their chief as the head of their race, and the representative of the common ancestor of the clan; in the latter they obeyed their leader as feudal proprietor of the lands to which they were attached, and to whom they owed military service for their respective portions of these lands. The Highland chief was the hereditary lord of all who belonged to his clan wherever they dwelt, or whatever lands they occupied; the feudal baron was entitled to the military service of all [who held lands] under him, to whatever race they might individually belong. The one dignity was personal, the other was territorial; the rights of the chief were inherent, those of the baron were accessory; the one might lose or forfeit his possessions, but could not thereby be divested of his hereditary character and privileges; the other when divested of his fee ceased to have any title or claim to the service of those who occupied the lands. Yet these two systems, so different in principle, were in effect nearly identical. Both exhibited the spectacle of a subject possessed of unlimited power within his own territories, and exacting unqualified obedience from a numerous train of followers, to whom he stood in the several relations of landlord, military leader, and judge, with all the powers and prerogatives belonging to each of those characters.” The system of clanship was for a time better adapted for the Highlands; but the tendency of both clanship and feudalism was to obstruct [the administration] of justice and impede the progress of improvement.

Let us now glance at the general culture of this period. From the poetry of Finlay MacNab, in The Book of the Dean of Lismore, we learn that the ancient bards were in the habit of writing their compositions. Indeed there was far more literary culture among the Gaels for many centuries before the Reformation than existed for some time subsequent to that period. As in earlier ages there was close intercourse in literary matters carried on during the period of the Kingdom of the Isles between the Highlands and Ireland. There are many names, Irish and Scotch, well known in literary annals, to be found in the Highlands at this time. The Beatons, originally O’Neils or MacNeills, were a family of learned physicians in Islay and Mull. Manuscripts, either written by them or in their possession, are still in existence. The MacVurichs, descendants of Muireadhach Albannach, who were hereditary senachies or bards to Clanranald, preserved the literary torch lighted for generations in the Western Isles. Some of them are said “to have received their education in Irish Colleges of poetry and writing.” On the other hand it seems to have been a general practice for Irish scholars to come to the Highlands, where they and their writings were well received and well known. Irish annals inform us of Irish scholars who were regarded as masters in the Highlands. These are the names of four of them:—

In 1185 died Maclosa O’Daly, ollave or scholar, a poet of Erin and Albin. He was famed for his poetry, hospitality and nobility.

In 1328 died blind O’Carril, chief minstrel of Erin and Albin in his day.

In 1448 died Tadgog, son of Tadg, son of Giollacoluim O’Higgin, chief preceptor of the poets of Erin and Albin.

In 1554 died Tagd, son of Aodh O’Coffey, chief teacher of poetry in Erin and Albin.

From this we learn that literature existed, and that it was sedulously cultivated both in the Highlands and in Ireland at this time; and we also learn how much influence the one country exercised on the language and literature of the other.

During this period Gaelic scholars and culture were encouraged and fostered by the Princes, afterwards the Lords of the Isles. These Princes were also very liberal in their benefactions to the Church; it was one of them, the great Somerled, that endowed the Abbey of Paisley. Iona and other places over which their sway extended had always their constant help. And thus in their patronage of churchmen they afforded shelter and protection to literature. The MacVurichs and the Beatons, already mentioned, were at one time their secretaries and senachies or clan-historians. Having in course of time extensive possessions in Ireland as well as in Scotland, much intercourse was maintained between the two countries, bards and scholars of both countries going and coming in their train. The most distinguished of them after Somerled were Donald, from whom the clan, Donald Bulloch, with his brother John Mor, and James Macdonald the last of the Isles who thus signs his name in a missive to the Irish Privy Council, on January 24, 1546:—“James M’Connail of Dunnewaik and ye Glinnis, and aperand aeyr of ye Yllis.” The Macdonalds, at one time or another, as Princes or Lords of the Isles, ruled for upwards of five centuries of the historical period over nearly the half of Scotland and part of the north of Ireland. They occupy a prominent place in Norse, Irish, and Scottish history. The Macdonalds finally lost all their lands in the West, the most of which passed into the hands of their powerful rivals the Campbells:—

The Halls of Finlaggan no longer sound

To joyous feasts and dances as of yore:

The bard is dumb, the harper plays no more

Where the proud princes of the Isles were crowned:—

Their palace waste! while sadness sits around;

And weeds and nettles flourish on the floor;

Stark silence hovers round the islet’s shore

Where tread of warriors oft had shook the ground.

The chiefs and chieftains of the isles and west

Are seen no more at great Macdonald’s court;

Their galleys traverse not the island seas:

They with their furious feuds are now at rest:

Razed is each castle, ruined is each fort,

Within thy bounds, Queen of the Hebrides!

The name that stands first on the roll of the bards of the Middle and Modern Ages is that of Muireadach Albannach. He is the author of several poems which have been preserved in The Book of the Dean of Lismore. Religious subjects are the theme of all his compositions. None of the old bards exhibits so much earnestness and intensity of feeling. There is also more subjectivity in his poems than in other productions of the period. His name signifies Murdoch of Albin, or Scotland, given probably to distinguish him from another Irish bard of the same name. Muireadhach became the ancestor of a family of senachies and bards who have been very distinguished in the literary annals of Gaelic Scotland. They were hereditary bards and senachies to the Clanranald family. One of them, Lachlan Mòr MacMhuireadhach or Vurich, accompanied Donald Balloch of the Isles in 1411 at the battle of Harlaw, reciting his grand war-incitement poem. The last of them, Lachlan MacVurich, gives evidence in the report of the Highland Society on Ossian, and traces his genealogy through eighteen generations to Muireadhach Albannach. Muireadhach appears to have lived between A.D. 1180 and 1220. I give here a metrical version of a short religious poem of his in the Dean of Lismore’s book. He is supposed to have been an ecclesiastic, as many of those who wrote in early times were.

I praise Thee, Christ, that on Thy breast

A guilty one like me may rest;

And that Thy favour I can share;

And on my lips Thy cross may bear.

O Jesus, sanctify my heart,

My hands and feet and every part;

Me sanctify in Thy good grace,—

Blood, flesh and bones, and all my ways.

I never cease committing sin;

For still its love resides within:

May God His holy fragrance shed

Upon my heart and on my head.

Great glorious One vouchsafe relief

From all the ills that bring me grief;

Ere I am laid beneath the sod:

Before me smooth my way to God.

Another poem of Muireadhach is a curious dialogue between himself and Cathal Cròdhearg, King of Connaught, who lived towards the end of the 12th century. Both of them were then entering on a monastic life. It has been inferred from the dialogue that Murdoch was a man of high birth. Another poem of his in the Dean of Lismore’s book I have translated as follows:—

’Tis time to leave for Paradise

Since it is hard this pain to bear,—

To win unsoiled, the heavenly prize

Which others cannot with us share.

Now to thy priest thyself confess,

And all thy sins recall to mind,

Seek not His court with guilt-stained dress,

For in that state none entrance find.

None of thy many sins conceal,

Though sore it be their ill to tell:

Thy secret thoughts and deeds reveal,

Lest thou incur His wrath in hell.

And with the clergy make thy peace,

Unworthy, helpless though thou be;

Repent aright, and sinning cease,

Lest heavy guilt be found on thee.

He who forsakes the Lord Most High

For love of sin, sinks deep in woes;

The evils wrought in secresy

Full well the Eye all-searching knows.

Let these be thoughts for Adam’s race;

To me they do not seem untrue;

Men for a time may know their place,

But death at last they can’t eschew.

Muireadhach Albannach occupies the same relation to a number of succeeding generations of bards in Scotland that the famous Dafydd ap Gwilym (born, 1293) does towards succeeding Welsh bards.

We have a specimen of the written Gaelic of this period in the famous Macdonald charter, the earliest Gaelic one extant. In 1408 Donald, Lord of the Isles, granted lands in Islay to Brian Vicar Mackay of Rhinns, in that Island. The Mackays were an old family in Islay; from them came the Magees of Ireland, and I believe the present Bishop of Peterborough. The lands were Baile-Vicar, Cornobus, Cracobus, Tocamol, &c., in the parish of Kildalton. The charter conveying these lands, still in existence, is written in Gaelic. It was published some time ago by the Record Commission. It is an interesting document, and is here given in a literal translation. It was written by one of the Beatons, already referred to, who signs himself “Fergus M’Beth.” He was probably at the time physician to the Lord of the Isles. As Dr M’Lauchlan, who deciphered it, says—“The style of the charter is that of the usual feudal charters written in Latin, but the remarkable thing is to find a document of the kind written in Gaelic, at a time when such a thing was almost unknown in the Saxon dialects of either England or Scotland.”

It is interesting to find that the Gaelic of the charter, written 470 years ago, is the same as that spoken in Islay at the present day. One word brach, “ever” is spelt phonetically, just as it is pronounced now in the dialect of the island. The only word which seems to have changed its signification is bheatha, or unaspirated beatha, which was then used for “world.” Beatha in modern Gaelic means life, but an older form was bith, which now means being or existence, but in ancient Gaelic was used for “world.” See Zeuss’s Grammar.

In the name of God. Amen.

I, Mac Donald, am granting and giving eleven marks and a-half of land from myself and from my heirs, to Brian Vicar Mackay and to his heirs, after him for ever and ever, for his services ... to myself and to my father before me; and this on covenant and on condition that he himself and they shall give to me and to my heirs after me yearly, four cows fit for killing for my house. And in case that these cows shall not be found, the above Brian and his heirs shall give to me and to my heirs after me, two marks and forty for the same above cows. And for the same cause I am binding myself and binding my heirs after me, to the end of the world, these lands, together with their fruit of sea and land, to defend and maintain to the above Brian Vicar Mackay, and to his heirs for ever after him in like manner. And these are the lands I have given to him and to his heirs for ever—namely, Baile-Vicar, Machaire, Leargariabhoighe, Ciontragha, Graftol, Tocamol, Ugasgog, the two Gleannastol, Cracobus, Cornubus, and Baile-Neaghtoin. And in order that there may be meaning, force, and effect in this grant I give from me, I again bind myself and my heirs for ever under covenant this to uphold and fulfil to the aforesaid Brian and his heirs after him to the end of the world, by putting my hand and my seal down here, in presence of these witnesses here below, and the sixth day of the month of the Beltane, and this year of the birth of Christ, [one thousand four] hundred and eight.

McDonald.

John Mac Donald.
Pat: Mac aBrian.
Fergus Mac Beth.
Hugh McCei.

It is a suggestive commentary on the uncertainty of sublunary things that these lands which Donald was to “uphold” “to the end of the world” to Brian and his heirs have passed through the hands of more than one family since—they being now the property of John Ramsay, of Kildalton. Neither a Mackay nor a Macdonald owns any land in Islay now.

Lachlan Mor MacVurich.—This senachie and bard to the Clanranald is the author of one of the most extraordinary poems in Gaelic or in any language. He was of the family of the famous Muireadhach Albannach. He accompanied Donald, Lord of the Isles, at the battle of Harlaw, in 1411, and rehearsed his poem to animate the followers of the Islay chief. This war-song or battle-incitement (Stewart’s Collection) consists of three hundred and thirty-eight lines. The theme of the production is “O, children of Conn of the Hundred Fights! remember hardihood in the time of battle.” Round this subject Lachlan Mòr has gathered some six hundred and fifty adverbial adjectives, arranged alphabetically, and every one of them bearing specially and martially on the great theme of the song. There is nothing in the poem but these adjectives, which certainly in themselves are not very poetical; but rehearsed unhesitatingly from a good memory “in all their astonishing alliterative array by a ready speaker gifted with a strong and sensitive voice, they could not but have offered a rare opportunity for impetuous, vehement, and effective declamation.”

It may be remarked here, en passant, that there is no decisive evidence for the assertions of historians that Donald of Islay lost that battle. He claimed the victory; but even although it were more decided it would be equally barren of important results. It is also a misconception of the character of the forces engaged when it is said that one side was Celtic and the other Saxon, and that it was a struggle for race supremacy. There were many Gaels on the other side also, just as there were in the last battle fought on British ground—that of Culloden.

The Four Wise Men.—One of the most interesting poems in the Book of the Dean of Lismore is a dialogue between four men who are supposed to stand at the grave of Alexander the Great. It appears to be somewhat older than the fifteenth or sixteenth century. It illustrates the strong masculine character of those earlier ballads, where sense is not buried under a heap of verbiage. Whoever the author was, he was evidently a man of sound judgment and cultured common sense. Being of more than average merit in the original, the poem bears translation better than other inferior productions in the Dean’s Book. It has been excellently done by the late Mr Thomas Pattison, and I avail myself of his version. It is very interesting to read the moralisings of Highlanders some five hundred years ago.

[Four wise men] met beside the grave

Where the Prince of Greece was laid—

The mightiest Alexander;

And these true words they said:—

“But yesterday, to serve his need,

The world’s great host would rise;

And there, alas!” the first man said,

“To-day he lonely lies.”

“Proudly rode he on the earth

Not many days bygone;

And now the earth,” the second cried,

“It rests on his breast bone.”

Then did the third wise speaker say,—

“Not many days ere this

He own’d the whole round world; and now

Not seven short feet are his!”

“Alexander treasured gold

To serve his every whim;

And now,” the fourth man sagely said,

“’Tis gold that treasures him.

“Like gold was Philip’s son—the gold

That binds the jewels bright;

Like the palm among the trees; the moon

Amid the stars of night;

“Like the great whale among small fish;

The lion ’mid the slain;

The eagle when she drives the birds

From the rock of her lone reign.

“Like Zion hill amid the hills—

The hill that holiest seems;

Like the great sea unto the floods;

Like Jordan ’mid the streams.

“He was a man above all men,

Save the High King of Heaven;

To him were armies, towns, and lands,

And herds and forests given.”

Thus o’er the great man’s tomb they spoke!

Wise do I count their lore;

Unlike to women’s idle prate

Were the sayings of these four.

In the Dean’s Book we have poems by two ladies—the first Gaelic poetesses of whom we have any record. The name of one of them is Efric MacCorqudale or MacNeill. This poetess, whose name is written “Effric neyn corgitill,” is the authoress of a very spirited poem. She appears to have been the wife of the last MacNeill of Castle Sween, an ancient strong-hold at the mouth of Loch Sween in Knapdale, Argyllshire. The last constable of this clan was Hector MacTorquil MacNeill, whose name is found on a Macdonald charter in 1472. He was of the Gigha MacNeills, who sprung from Torquil MacNeill, designated “filius Nigelli” in his charter of the lands of Gigha and Taynish with the constabulary of Castle Sween. “MacTorquil,” half Gaelic, half Norse, reminds us of the mixture of Teutonic and Celtic blood in the veins of this clan. When the last MacNeill died, leaving no heir in the direct line, the office and lands connected with Castle Sween were given, in 1431, to the Earl of Argyll. Efric, his wife, here laments the fact.

Rosary, thou kindlest sorrow;

Thou art ever my delight;

Telling of the noble bosom

Where I lay until to-night.

Death has filled me with its sadness;

Where’s the arm I clung to long?

Ah! I saw it not departing;—

His the valiant and the strong.

Joyful voice of softest music;

Known it everywhere remains;

Lion of Mull of the white towers,

Hawk of Islay of smooth plains.

---

There’s no joy among our women;

At the sport men are not seen;

Like the skies when winds are silent,

So with music is Dun Sween.

On Clan-Neill they’ve taken vengeance;

See the palace of the brave!

Cause to us of sad lamenting

Till they lay us in the grave.

The other poetess is—

Isabel, Countess of Argyll. In the Dean’s Book this lady is described as “Isabella Ni vic Cailein;” elsewhere she is called “Contissa Ergadien.” She was Isabel Stewart, eldest daughter of John, Lord of Lorn. She was married to Lord Colin Campbell, who was created Earl of Argyll in 1457, and died in 1493. The poems of these two ladies are interesting as showing that Gaelic literature was cultivated in fashionable quarters at that period. I have attempted a literal rendering in verse of the Countess’s poem:—

Pity one that bears love’s anguish,

Yet the cause that must conceal;

Sore it be to lose a dear one,

And a wretched state to feel.

And the love I gave in secret

I must ever keep unknown;

But unless relief comes quickly

All my freshness will be gone.

Ah! the name of my beloved

Ne’er to other can be told;

He put me in lasting fetters;—

Pity me a hundredfold.

In surveying the arena of history we observe places geographically small sending forth the most prevailing of the forces that have fashioned the course of civilisation. A glance at one or two countries will readily illustrate the significance of the great factors at work in the making of the world’s annals. We discern in Judea, a small strip of land, the country whence the all-conquering religion and civilisation of the whole earth have come; we find in Greece—a small concatenation of tribes and provinces—a philosophic and æsthetic power which has supplied the minds of men with profound wisdom for centuries; for our laws and many of our customs and institutions we are indebted to Rome, Pagan and Christian—a city in a comparatively petty peninsula; in our own isles of the Gentiles, not excluding Man, Ireland, and St. Kilda, there has been developed the greatest moral force of the present, and it may be said of any millennium hitherto. Our British islands look small indeed on the chart of the world; and it is possible that our geographical insignificance may tempt everweening, inimical powers, and some of our own subject nationalities, to touch unkindly some day the mane of the British lion; but very vainly indeed as long as Christian manliness resides in the hearts of never-enslaved Britons.

Along the coasts of Britain lie several islets where were nursed and whence have emanated national elements of moral power which have to some extent influenced our all-prevailing Anglo-Celtic empire. Lindisfarne, Inchcolm, and Iona we generally know. Iona in Loch Erizort, Lewis, the interesting islets that stud the west coast of the latter island, the far north tiny little Rona, were in early days centres of light and religion, if not of culture. To-day the tourist finds few or none to welcome him in many of those once heaven-favoured island-homes that repose in their attractive poetic solitude and antiquarian suggestiveness on the majestic bosom of the Atlantic Ocean. But in the far-west St Kilda there still resides as monarch, priest, and judge, that zealous Free Church ordained missionary, Mr Mackay, who, according to artist Sands’s admission, bravely wrestles with all the elements, moral and physical, that conflict with the interests of man. But leaving St. Kilda in its loneliness and sailing in among the inner Hebridean Isles, we find in the fertile Island of Lismore—the great garden—a man in the fifteenth century, often now referred to in Gaelic literature, the Rev. Sir James Macgregor. A native of Perthshire, belonging to a royal clan that was afterwards “nameless by day,” with a heart filled with the enthusiasm and perfervid spirit of his countrymen, he and his brother got up a collection of the songs and ballads of their native land, which was among the first of the [literary efforts] of the kind. In Lismore also resided in later days another literary ecclesiastic, the sturdy MacNicol, who produced an able volume of obstinate Scottish prejudice, a pretty hearty, intelligent growl over the great lexicographer’s “Journey to the Hebrides.”

To Macgregor’s book we are indebted for some specimens of the poetry of his own and previous periods. Some of the votaries of the muse to whom he assigned niches of honour in his collection have been already referred to; the names of a few more, with a few specimen verses of their compositions, are here given.

Sir Duncan Campbell is described as “Duncan MacCailein, the good knight.” He was Sir Duncan Campbell of Glenorchy, son of Sir Colin, who died in 1478. He must have been a knight of some courtly and literary importance in his day, for he not only wrote poetry in Gaelic, but he obtained from the powers that were charters to extensive lands in Perthshire, and became one of the Earls of Breadalbane. He is the author of several pieces of poetry which have been characterised as remarkable for caustic humour, indulged in sometimes at the expense of the female sex. A published poem of his is a satirical elegy on a miser, a species of beggar humanity that the world has not yet succeeded in extinguishing. I give a literal metrical translation of some of the verses:—

Who is now the chief of beggars

Since the best of them is gone?

Sorely down our tears are streaming

Since his begging face has flown.

Piteous is the orphan’s case;

Death to begging ill has brought;

In each homestead there is sorrow,

As the begging can’t be taught.

Ever since our God created

Man at first, I have not heard

Of a mendicant like Lachlan,

Whose decease our grief has stirred.

Without father, without mother,

Beggary grows weak and poor;

For none e’er could beg like Lachlan:

How can I my loss endure!

Duncan Macpherson is thought to have been an ecclesiastic, a class, notwithstanding Professor Blackie’s genial sneer about the “solemn sepulchral piety of certain North-Western Gospellers,” who have been the authors and media of the most of what the literary Highlander can refer to with national pride. The “sombre nationality” of the old Ossianic bards is discernible in the following lines:—

Alastair, art still in sorrow?

Or canst cast it to the ground?

The old year is swiftly passing,

And yet godless art thou found?

Now while thou art grey and aged,

Hast thou not the grace of heaven?

If there be aught good in sorrow,

God to thee rich gifts has given.

John MacVurich.—This writer was likely a member of the famous family who were so long hereditary bards to Clanranald. Their ancestor was the [famous Muireadhach] Albannach of the thirteenth century. I give a metrical rendering of some verses:—

O, sorry is the fate

I find mine own to-day!

Have pity kindly heav’n;

Save from this pain, I pray.

The misery I feel

Is threefold here alone;

And my misfortune black

Comes weighted with a stone.

My rage and wrath are great

For how she’s grieving me.

I see her sweet soft skin

Like white foam on the sea.

So rosy is her hand;

Her lips like berries red;

My soul she holds while sleep

At night flies from my bed.

I fancied she was nigh,

And that she smiled on me;

But since my grief began

The maid I can not see.

Her raven curly locks

Are prettily arrayed;

Five lovers there are knit

To th’ name of the fair maid.

O that she were my own:

Then I should be so blest;

My love for evermore

To press her to my breast!

Many of the authors whose compositions appear in the Dean’s Book were evidently professional men, either clerical or medical. It was among these two classes that the lamp of literature was kept burning. Many of the names are indeed suggestive of professional connections, such as Mac-an-Olave, MacNab, Macpherson, Maol Domhnuich, &c.

It has been held that the Romish system of the celibacy of the clergy was not introduced or acted upon till a century or two before the Reformation. Whether or not this is true we have at all events quite a crop of clans whose progenitors must have been the sons of ecclesiastical persons. We have Mac-an-Aba, MacNab, from the son of the Abbot; MacVicar, from the son of the Vicar: MacPherson, from the son of the Parson, or Persona; MacTaggart, from the son of the Priest; MacMaster, from the son of the Maighstir or Minister. Other names come to us through those who devoted themselves to be the servants or gillies of God or of some saints. Mac-gille-Chriost is Gilchrist, or the son of Gilchrist, or the servant of Christ. Mac-gill’-Iosa, is Gillies, or the son of the servant of Jesus; Mac-gill’-Iain, or MacLean, is the son of the servant of Seathain, or John; Mac-gill’-Aindreais is the son of the servant of Andrew; Mac-gill’-Eóra (Gill’-an-Leabhair) is the son of the servant of the Book, Macindeor; Mac-gill’-Mhoire is Morrison, the servant of Mary, &c. The clerical element appears to have been a powerful interest at one time in the Highlands and Islands. Indeed, this may be said of Scotland as a whole, a characteristic which has not yet become invisible. The Dean’s book shows us the Highlands under the old order of things. A vast change was impending. The Catholic ecclesiastical dispensation was drawing to a close. The Church of Rome never gained a powerful hold of the people; so in general they contemplated its downfall with indifference. The intelligent of them who were interested in religion had more sympathy with the old native Church—the Celtic—which Rome supplanted or were ready to embrace the new faith of awakening Christendom.

Gillicalum Mac-an-Olave.—This bard is the author of several pieces of fair merit in the Dean’s Book. He appears to have been one of the famous Beatons, Clann-an-Leigh, of Islay, Mull, and Skye. Of him and of several others in the Dean’s MS. we know little more than their names, some of which I now give:—John of Knoydart, who poetises on the murder of the young Lord of the Isles by the Irish harper, Dermid O’Cairbre, at Inverness in 1490; Duncan Mor, from Lennox; Gilchrist Taylor, Andrew Macintosh, the Bard Macintyre, John MacEwen MacEachern, Duncan MacCabe, Dougall MacGille Glas, Maol Domhnuich (Servus Domini), Baron Ewen MacOmie, MacEachag, and Duncan, brother of the Dean, Sir James Macgregor, who transcribed the most of the manuscript so famous under his brother’s name.

There are a good few verses of a satiric character to be found in the Dean’s collection. The reader is rather surprised to find the religious Dean admitting such an estimate as the following of monks and monasteries into his collection:—

I, Robert, went yesterday

A monastery for to see;

But to my wishing they said nay,

Because my wife was not with me!

Among the Irish pieces there are several satirical productions by an Irish Earl Gerald, the fourth Earl of Desmond, directed against the fair sex.

The ruthless and vindictive spirit which at this time prevailed in Scotland may be gathered from the following verses of a battle-incitement on the eve of the invasion of the English, which ended on the fatal field of Flodden:—

Burn their women, lean and ugly!

Burn their children, great and small!

In the hut and in the palace,

Prince and peasant, burn them all!

Plunge them in the swelling rivers,

With their gear, and with their goods;

Spare, while breath remains, no Saxon;

Drown them in the roaring floods!

These lines have been translated by Professor Blackie, as well as the next piece of banter.

Black John Macgregor of Glenstrae, who was buried at Dysart, in Glenorchy, May 26, 1519, was a kind patron to the red-haired bard Finlay MacNab, who begins his praises as follows:—

I’ve been a stranger long

To pleasant-flowing matter;

I’m tired of lashing fools

With unproductive satire.

I’ve dwarfed my Muse for nought,

But now she shall grow bigger

By chant of lofty theme—

The praise of the Macgregor.

A prince indeed is he,

Who knows the craft of ruling;

Well taught in each degree

Of proper princely schooling.

Men make boast of noble blood:

Though money has its praises,

I’d much liefer be well-born

Than count the wealth of Crœsus.

Hear me gentles and commons all,

Cease your blame and banter;

When I my pedigree rehearse,

You’ll find I am no vaunter.

From great Clan Dougall I descend;

No better blood is flowing,

But richer made in me from founts

That I will soon be showing.

From the MacCailein a good part

Of my life’s blood I borrow,

MacCailein bountiful to bards,

Then how should I find sorrow?

In Earla I was born and bred,

I tell you true the story,

A very noble place it is,

’Twixt Aros and Tobermory,

Macdonald lies off to the west:

I dwell with good Clan Gillean,

Brave men who stood in battle’s breast,

A hundred ’gainst a million.

MacNeill of Barra, too, most sure,

Gives gentle blood to me, sir;

And Colonsay doth make her boast,

I’m kin to the MacFie, sir.

The mighty masterful MacSween,

Clan Ranald and Macleod, sir.

The stoutest chiefs e’er tramped on green,

Give substance to my blood, sir.

The Cattanachs and the Macintoshes

Both make a goodly figure

In my proud line; and linked with them,

Clan Cameron and Macgregor:

And Stewart’s seed, though sown on earth

More wide than any other,

The tale is true that one of them

Was my grandsire’s grandmother;

And if you will to do me harm

I rede you will consider

That I have cousins stout of arm

In Breadalbane and Balquhidder;

Clan Lauchlan and Clan Lamond, too,

All numbered with my kin, sir;

I really see no end in view

When once that I begin, sir;

For in my veins of noble blood

Dame nature was so lavish,

She added some drops from the flood

Of thy pure fount Clan Tavish,

Lads that plenish our green hills

With virtue and with vigour,

Tight little men, but with more pith

Than many who are bigger.

I visit MacDougall of Craignish,

And from the good MacIvor

I get my dinner full and free,

And never pay a stiver.

And now my race and lineage rare,

When you have bravely mastered,

You’ll find the best of all your blood

Flows in my veins—the bastard!

The following poem is by a Phelim Macdougall. The power of his muse cannot be said to be of so high an order as his moral suggestions. But poetry and severe ethics do not always go together. So we can afford some literary and religious sympathies to poor Phelim in his fifteenth century gropings after light:—

’Tis not good to travel on Sunday,

Whoever the Sabbath would keep;

Not good to be of ill-famed race;

Not good is a dirty woman;

Not good to write without learning;

Not good are grapes when sour;

Not good is an Earl without English;

Not good is a sailor, if old;

Not good is a bishop without warrant;

Not good is a blemish on an elder;

Not good a priest with but one eye;

Not good a parson if a beggar;

Not good is a palace without pay;

Not good is a handmaid if she’s slow;

Not good is a lord without a dwelling, &c.

The author of the following verses was neither the first nor the last that fathered their petty productions on poor Ossian.

The Author of This is Ossian, the Son of Finn.

Long are the clouds this night above me;

The last was a long night to me.

This day that drags its weary way

Came from a wearier yesterday.

Each day that comes is long to me:

Such was not my wont to be.

Now there is no fine delight

In battle-field, and fence of fight;

No training now to feats of arms,

Nor song, nor harp, nor maiden’s charms,

Nor blazing hearth, nor well-heaped board,

Nor banquet spread by liberal lord,

Nor stag pursuing, nor gentle wooing,

The dearest of dear trades to me.

Alas! that I should live to see

Days without mirth in hut or hall

Without the hunter’s wakeful call,

Or bay of hounds, or hounds at all,

Without light jest, or sportive whim

Or lads with mounting breast to swim

Across the long arms of the sea—

Long are the clouds this night above me.

In the big world there lives no wight

More sad than I this night.

A poor old man with no pith in my bones,

Fit for nothing but gathering stones.

The last of the Finn, the noble race,

Ossian, the son of Finn am I,

Standing beneath the cold grey sky,

Listening to the sound of bells.

Long are the clouds this night above me!

One of the chief characteristics of the poetry of this period is the clearness or distinctness of the ideas. The authors seize at once their subject and straightway sing what they have to utter. They also appear to have a definite object in view when they invoke the muse, and they carry it out in a clear, direct, and unhesitating fashion. The vagueness and mistiness of Macpherson’s Ossianic poems have been much commented upon, and sometimes with good reason. Nothing like mistiness can be affirmed of the Ossianic poems which were composed or transcribed and were popular at this period. The ideas of the authors stand out in brilliant distinctness, like stars looking forth beneath the brows of a frosty night.

The Lismore collection of songs and poems is not the only manuscript of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that received but scant attention from our forefathers. Many ancient Gaelic manuscripts carried by Christian missionaries to the Continent have never returned. More than two hundred, once in the possession of Gaelic scribes, may still be met with in the various European libraries. Drs Laing and Skene, especially the latter, have done good service to Scotland in this field. The admirable collection of Gaelic MSS. in Edinburgh, some of which, it is hoped will yet be published, is the result of the energetic efforts of Dr Skene. The Fernaig manuscript which he has put in the hands of Professor Mackinnon, contains according to the latter, some 4000 lines of Gaelic poetry of the seventeenth century. It is hoped that Mr Mackinnon will lend his ability and scholarship to the early publication of this work. Judging by a published article of the Professor of Celtic in Edinburgh, at the present date (November, 1889), he seems to be unaware that the “Red Book” of Clanranald is not lost. He will be glad to know that it is in the possession of Admiral Reginald Macdonald. Mr Campbell of Islay, informed the writer once that he and Mr [O’Grady] had read the “Red Book.”

CHAPTER VIII.
JACOBITE BARDS.

“A field of the dead rushes red on my sight,

And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight.”—Campbell.

A retrospect of the remains of ancient Gaelic Literature establishes the following among other facts:—1. That the Scottish Gael of the first centuries of the Christian era was not a barbarian. 2. That a considerable body of oral or traditional literature was then extant among the people. 3. That there is no evidence that writing was known in the British Islands before the Christian era. 4. That relics of the writings of Churchmen from the fifth century downwards still exist in manuscript. 5. That the literature of the Irish and Scottish Gael, till the period of the Reformation in the sixteenth century, had much in common, the language used in the north-west of Ireland and in the north-west of Scotland being the same.

We have come now to the consideration of the poetry which may be regarded as [the beginnings of] modern bardic literature. It shows a different spirit, while it is generally presented in a different form. After Mary MacLeod, the chief productions of the Gaelic muse from Iain Lom to MacMhaighstir Alasdair were Jacobite.

The persecutions and sufferings of the Clan-Gregor, “the clan that was nameless by day,” form the theme of many interesting and stirring ballads. The terrible valour, the undying courage, and the heroic faithfulness of this much injured sept have been beautifully drawn by Sir Walter Scott.

The authoress of Macgregor’s Lullaby was a daughter of Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, and the wife of Gregor Macgregor, whose death she laments in this Lullaby. Her husband, his brother, Malcolm Roy, along with their father, Duncan Macgregor, were beheaded in 1552 by Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, Campbell of Glenlyon, and Menzies of Rannoch. The Black Duncan mentioned in the song was her brother, the seventh laird of Glenorchy, whose picture is still preserved at Taymouth Castle. The following is Pattison’s rendering of the Lullaby, which, along with the next two songs referred to (not in the Dean’s book), have always been very popular:—

Early on a Lammas morning with my husband was I gay;

But my heart got sorely wounded ere the middle of the day.

Chorus—Ochan, ochan, uiri,

Though I cry, my child, with thee—

Ochan, ochan, uiri,

Now he hears not thee nor me.

Malison on judge and kindred, they have wrought me mickle woe;

With deceit they came about us, with deceit they laid him low.

Had they met but twelve Macgregors with my Gregor at their head;

Now my child had not been orphaned, nor these bitter tears been shed.

On an oaken block they laid him, and they spilt his blood around;

I’d have drunk it in a goblet largely, ere it reached the ground.

---

When the rest have all got lovers now a lover have I none;

My fair blossom, fresh and fragrant, withers on the ground alone.

While all other wives the night-time pass in slumbers balmy bands,

I upon my bedside weary, never cease to wring my hands.

Far, far better be with Gregor where the heather’s in its prime,

Than with mean and Lowland barons in a house of stone and lime, &c.

Other Macgregor Songs of the same era are “Macgregor O Ruara” and “The Braes of the Ceathach.” Macgregor O Ruara begins thus:—

There is sorrow, and sorrow, and sorrow now fills me—

Poor pitiful sorrow no man can redress;

It is sorrow and sighing, and sadness that thrills me—

Oh! terrible sadness I cannot repress.

Macgregor has perished—Macgregor, pine-bannered—

Macgregor, beloved in Glenlyon the green;

Macgregor, the brave, by whose foes ever honoured

The threatening roar of our pibroch has been.

“The Braes of the Mist” is one of the sweetest and most affecting songs in any language. The singer—a woman—concealed her husband and two sons of the fiercely persecuted Macgregors in a bed as the enemies were approaching the house. She sat at the fire and began singing her song. She sang of herself as waiting in solitude for her persecuted friends. The people outside listened as the woman sang, and accepting as true what she said, they passed on without troubling her. Her heart’s dearest wishes depended on the effect produced by her extempore verses. It has been well said that “seldom, indeed, has song or ballad been composed or chanted in circumstances of such intense excitement.” The first verse runs as follows:—

I sit here alone, by the plain of the highway,

For my poor hunted kin, watching mist, watching by way;

I’ve yet got no sign that they’re near to my dwelling;

At Loch Fyne they were last seen—if true be that telling, &c.

Mo Valie Veg Og is a very popular song, somewhat like “Helen or Kirkconnel Lea,” and Tennyson’s “Oriana.” The occasion of the composition was as follows:—One of the chiefs of the Clan Chisholm having carried off a daughter of Lord Lovat, placed her on an islet in Loch Bruiach, where she was soon discovered by the Frasers, who had mustered for the rescue. (Other accounts of the origin of the song have been given). A severe conflict ensued, during which the young lady was accidentally slain by a chance blow from her own lover, in defending her from her furious brothers. The lover was condemned to be executed next day. The night preceding his execution he composed Mo Valie Veg Og, Young little May. The following is a rendering of the spirit of the song:—

I groan for thee in prison,

Mo Valie Veg Og

O, dost thy spirit listen,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

From where the dew-drops glisten,

From thy deep sleep uprisen,

While these lone arms I miss in,

Mo Valie Veg Og?

We met when summer flowered,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

Where am’rous birds embowered

Mo Valie Veg Og;

The trees that near us towered,

Sweet dew-drops on us showered;

But something near us lowered,

Mo Valie Veg Og.

Wrapt in each other dreaming,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

We saw the distance gleaming,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

Thy kinsmen vengeful seeming,

With fell intention teeming

We strove, and blood was streaming,

Mo Valie Veg Og!

Encountering their lance,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

I struck by sore mischance

Mo Valie Veg Og;

Cursed aye be their advance!

I bent in trembling trance

To drink thy dying glance,

Mo Valie Veg Og.

Condemned thus I am grieving,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

Aye longing to be leaving,

Mo Valie Veg Og;

To-morrow sees them cleaving

This frame; hope, undeceiving,

Lifts me with thee believing,

Mo Valie Veg Og.

The Owlet.—It is said that this poem was composed by a Badenoch deer-stalker about 1550. It is two hundred and sixty-eight lines in length. The “Owl” is the form of a dialogue between the author and an owl, which, old and feeble, the unkind hunter’s wife, who was much younger than he, brought in to be a fit companion for her husband. There is a good deal of cleverness and poetical ingenuity in the piece. It is the only composition of the kind in the language, and reminds us of “Listen Little Porker,” by the Welsh poet Merddyn Wyllt.

The Aged Bard’s Wish.—This poem appeared towards the end of last century, in the days of the Ossianic controversy, and has come under the suspicions of the sceptical. It was then regarded as an old poem, perhaps belonging to pre-Christian times. It probably belongs to the first part of the seventeenth century. It begins thus—

Oh! place me by the little brook,

Of gentle wandering pace and slow,

And lay my head near some green nook

That kindly shades the sunny glow.

At ease upon the grass I’ll rest

Of the balm-breathing flowery brae;

My foot by the warm wave caress’d

That winds throughout the plain away.

There the pale primrose let me see,

There the small daisy close at hand,

And every flower so dear to me,

For grateful hue or odour bland.

About thy lofty banks, my glen,

Be bending boughs and blooming sprays,

Where small birds sing from bush and fen

To aged cliffs their amorous lays.

There have been several translations of this much-admired poem, but on account of occasional vagueness of conception and obscurity of the style it has been found very difficult to convey with certainty and accuracy the sense of the original. In one hundred and forty-four lines the bard conjures up many scenes and images before his mental vision, and finally welcomes the “Hall of Ossian and Daol”—he cries, “Open, fly, the night comes, and the bard is gone!”

Among the poetesses whose names have not been forgotten in the story of Scottish letters is that of Mary Macleod, Mairi ni’n Alastair Ruaidh, or Mary, the daughter of red-haired Alexander. Her name as a poetess has become quite proverbial among the people. Apart from the mantle of poetry which she wore she was a very remarkable person, who would be long remembered. Like some others, her own assertive personality accounts for much of the popularity of her productions.

Mairi ni’n Alastair Ruaidh, who [has been regarded] by some as the first in point of time of the modern Gaelic bards, was born in Harris, in the Long Island, in 1569, and died at Dunvegan, Isle of Skye, in 1674, at the extraordinary age of 105 years. She received no education, yet her poetry is characterised by boldness, freshness, and originality. The metres she uses are often complicated and unusual; but the native melody of her song and the pathetic character of her conceptions render her poetry very enjoyable reading. She was a well-known visitor among her neighbours, who generally rallied her by references to a beverage stronger than water. Pattison translates a song she composed on her being banished from Dunvegan by the young chief of the MacLeods; who, on hearing her laudatory verses, sent a boat to bring back the affectionate poetess.

Alone on the hill-top, sadly and silently

Downward on Islay and over the sea

I look, and I wonder how time hath deceived me—

A stranger in Scarba, who ne’er thought to be.

Ne’er thought it, my island, where rest the deep dark shade

The grand mossy mountains for ages have made;

God bless thee! and prosper thy chief of the sharp blade

All over these islands his fame never fade!

Never fade it, Sir Norman! for well ’tis the right

Of thy name to win credit in counsel or fight—

By wisdom, by shrewdness, by spirit, by might,

By manliness, courage, by daring, by sleight.

In counsel or fight, thy kindred know these should be thine—

Branch of Lochlin’s wide-ruling and king-bearing line!

And in Erin they know it, far over the brine;

No Earl would in Albin thy friendship decline.

The name of Mairi ni’n Alastair Ruaidh has been affectionately remembered by many generations of Highlanders.

John Macdonald.—This well-known Lochaber bard, called Iain Lom, or bare John, was of the Keppoch family; lived in the reigns of Charles I. and II.; was a very old man about 1710.

The heir of Keppoch was sent abroad to be educated; and in his absence his affairs were entrusted to his cousins, who planned a scheme to get rid of him so that they themselves would get possession. The bard perceived their wicked scheme beforehand; and comes prominently before us in his endeavours to expose them; and again in the active part he took in punishing the murderers. The massacre took place in 1663; and soon after the poet persuaded Sir Alexander Macdonald to concert measures for punishing the perpetrators of the deed. They were seized and beheaded, and the awful retribution is commemorated by the ugly monument, “Tobar nan Ceann,” or “Well of the Heads,” in Invergarry. Macdonald was politician as well as poet in his day. He was a keen Jacobite, and acted as the laureate of the party in the Highlands. He was the means of bringing the armies of Montrose and Argyll together at Inverlochy, where, on Sunday, February 2, 1645, a bloody battle was fought, in which the flower of the Campbell clan were slain. He is a poet of great fire, vigour, and satiric power. He was buried in Dunaingeal, in the braes of Lochaber.

BATTLE OF INVERLOCHY.

Did you hear from Cille-Cummin

How the tide of war came pouring?

Far and wide the summons travelled,

How they drove the Whigs before them!

From the castle-tower I viewed it,

High on Sunday morning early,

Looked and saw the ordered battle,

Where Clan Donald triumphed rarely.

Up the green slope of Cail-Eachaidh

Came Clan Donald marching stoutly;

Churls who laid my home in ashes.

Now shall pay the fine devoutly!

Many a bravely-mounted rider,

With his back turned to the slaughter,

Where his boots won’t keep him dry now,

Learns to swim in Nevis water.

On the wings of eager rumour

Far and wide the tale is flying,

How the slippery knaves, the Campbells,

With their cloven skulls are lying.

I have availed myself here of the rendering of Blackie, whose literary deftness in translation and poetic genius have successfully transferred not only the sense of, but frequently improved on, the more artless of the productions of the Gaelic muse. If the versatile Professor is not always boldly and simply literal in his versions of Gaelic poetry, he never fails to seize and attractively exhibit the spirit of the bard.

Archibald Macdonald.—This minor bard, called “An Ciaran Mabach,” was a natural son of Sir Alexander Macdonald, 16th baron of Sleat. He was contemporary with Iain Lom. He was a clever and highly practical man, and was entrusted in matters of importance by his father, who allotted him a portion of land in North Uist.

Neil Mackellar.—-Mackellar was a farmer in Jura in 1694. He does not appear to have composed much—a poetical address of his to John Ruadh Mac Cailein, the Earl of Argyll, which I found among the papers of the poet Livingston, was published in the fifth volume of the “Gael.”

Diorbhail Nic-a’-Bhriuthain, or Dorothy Brown, was a native of Luing, an island in Argyllshire. She lived towards the close of the seventeenth century, and, like many of the bards of the period, was a keen Jacobite. Like Iain Lom, she used her bitter satire against the Clan Campbell with considerable effect. She is known by her Oran do Alastair Mac Colla, the famous Sir Alexander Macdonnell of Antrim, and the gallant lieutenant of Montrose.

Silis Ni’n Vic Raonaill, or Cicely Macdonald, was the daughter of Macdonald of Keppoch, and lived from the reign of Charles II. to that of George I. Like Iain Lom and Dorothy Brown, this poetess was a Roman Catholic, and her muse was employed against the house of Hanover. Her husband having died in a fit of intoxication while on a visit to Inverness, she composed Marbhrann air bas a fir, and afterwards some hymns.

Neil Mac Vurich, who was born early in the seventeenth century, was bard and senachie to the family of Clanranald. He belonged to South Uist, where the land he had is still known as Baile-bhaird. He was a descendant of Muireadhach Albannach, and grandfather of Lachlan Mac Vurich, whose name appears in the Ossianic controversy. He wrote a Gaelic history of the Clan Ranald, whose records he kept. He was living and an old man in 1715.

John Macdonald, or Iain Dubh Mac Iain ’ic Ailein, a gentleman of the Clan Ranald family, was born in 1665. He held the farm of Grulean in the island of Eigg. One of his best pieces is a fiery martial poem called “Oran nam Fineachan Gaelach.”

The Aosdan Matheson, who flourished in the seventeenth century, belonged to Lochalsh, Ross-shire, where he had as his bard free lands from the Earl of Seaforth. Much of his poetry, like that of Neil Mac Vurich, has been lost. A poem, Do’n Iarla Thuathach, Triath Chlann Choinnich, has been freely rendered by Sir Walter Scott: “Farewell to Mackenzie, high Chief of Kintail.”

Hector MacLean, who lived in the seventeenth century, was bard and senachie to Sir Lachlan MacLean of Duart. The Chief’s Elegy is the subject of a special poem by the bard.

Lachlan MacKinnon, who lived in the seventeenth century, was a native of Strath, Isle of Skye. He was a bard of real power, and a good many of his pieces have come down to us. Mackenzie, collector of “The Beauties of Gaelic Poetry,” who delighted in unearthing and publishing all the moral dirt he could lay his hands on, relates a story about Mackinnon which does not represent the bard’s character in a very attractive light.

Roderick Morrison.—This famous bard, commonly called An Clarsair Dall, or the Blind Harper, was born in the island of Lewis in 1646. He was a descendant of the Brieve Leosach, well known in the annals of the island. Roderick’s father was a man of piety and culture, in Lewis, whose memory is still fragrant among the people. It seems he was a true gospel light amid the half-heathenism which then prevailed in the Western Isles. He sent Rory and his other two sons to be educated at Inverness, intending to educate the three sons for the church. In course of time Angus settled in the parish of Contin, and Malcolm in Poolewe, Ross-shire. Roderick lost his eyesight through the small-pox when receiving his education in Inverness, and then turned his attention to the study of music. He soon became famous not only in Scotland, but also in Ireland. When returning from the latter country it is said that he called at every baronial residence on his way. Before going home to the north he visited Edinburgh, where at the time the Scotch nobility and gentry were met in Holyrood House. There he came across the chief, John Breac MacLeod of Harris, by whom Roderick was at once engaged as his family harper. While with MacLeod he composed many tunes and songs which are yet popular. His patron MacLeod afterwards gave him a rent-free farm at Totamor, in Glenelg. After the death of John Breac he went back to his native Lewis, where he was much respected in his old age. He died in this island, and was buried in the churchyard of I or Hy, near Stornoway. Morrison is a poet of considerable power and culture, although his fame as a harper—he was almost the last of that class so celebrated among the Gaels—has obscured his name as a poet.

John Mackay.—This bard, known as Am Piobaire Dall, or the Blind Piper, whose father was of the Sutherlandshire Mackays, was born in the parish of Gairloch, Ross-shire, in the year 1666. Being born blind he was taught music, first by his father, afterwards he was sent to the College of Pipers, in Skye, which was then presided over by MacCruimein, of world-wide fame. In course of time he became family bard to the chief of Gairloch. While he stayed with this chief he is said to have composed twenty-four piobrachds and many strathspeys, reels, and jigs. He died in 1754 at the great age of ninety-eight, and was buried in Gairloch. The poems of this bard are thoughtful and well finished, but, like many of that period, are scarcely known now.

The learned Edward Lhuyd published his “Archæologia Britannica” in 1704; and the imaginative Celt of the day was delighted that so much of the dying language of his forefathers would be preserved—that so handsome a monument should be reared to its memory. In 1707 a second edition was issued, in which complimentary poetical addresses from Highland ministers were given. There is one from the Rev. James MacPherson, Kildalton, Islay, and another from the Rev. John Maclean of Killninian, Mull. The following stanzas from Maclean’s verses are of considerable merit in the original Gaelic:—

When the grey Gael—Milesian race from Spain—

To green Ierne had crossed the mighty main,

Great was the fame they carried to our shore,

Of skill in arms, of poetry and lore.

When that good seed had spread out far and near,

The Gaelic then was honoured there and here;

That musically sweet, expressive tongue,

To which our fathers have so fondly clung.

In royal courts a thousand years and more

It reigned in honour—spoke from shore to shore;

Then bard and lyrist, prophet, sage and leech

Wrote all their records in the Gaelic speech:

Since first Gathelus came from Egypt’s strand

That ancient tongue was written in our land;

The great divines whose fame is shed abroad

In Gaelic accents learned to praise their God.

’Twas Gaelic Patrick spoke in Innis-Fayl,

And sainted Calum in Iona’s Isle.

Rich polished France, where highest taste appears,

Received her learning from that Isle of Tears;—

Ie, alma mater, of each tribe and tongue,

Once taught for France and Germany their young!

Well may we now our swelling grief outpour,

That seat in ruin, and our tongue no more!

Great praise and thanks, O noble Lhuyd, be thine,

True learned patriot of the Cambrian line!

Thou hast awaked the Celtic from the tomb,

That our past life her records [might illume].

Engraved in every heart in lettered gold

Thy name remains: thy silent words unfold

To future ages what our sires had seen,

While others say, ‘A Gaelic race hath been.’

The first of the Gaelic addresses comes from Andrew Maclean, Tyree, who calls himself “the son of the Bishop of Argyll”:—

Aindra M’Ghileoin Fear an Cnuic, an tiridhe mac Easbuig
Earraghaoidhil, C.C.

Ordheirc an gniomh saor bhur comhluinn

Cliu do fhoghlum beirid uainn:

Ti do chur do na thuit or sinnsreadh

Cus do sgeimh bhur linn a mfuaim.

Molsid M’Liath na Sheanchas,

Ochd mhacigh’achd do leanmhuinn oirinn,

Brathreachus Gaoidhil Fear Shaxan,

Thabhart nar ccuimhne ceart na loirg:

which may be freely rendered thus:—

Excellent is thy work completed;

Thy deep lore is widely known;

The sweet language of our fathers

Grandly to the world hast shown.

Praise shall be of Lhuyd’s great labours

Which henceforth we emulate;

Friendship for the Gael of England

In our hearts he does create.

Robert Campbell, of Cowal, begins with the following dedicatory preface:—

“Den Uasal oirdherc Maighsdir Edward Lhuid, Fear coimhead tigh na seud a Noiltigh Ath-Ndamh a Nsagsan, Ughdar a Nfoclair Ghaoidheilg, Failte.

“Robert Caimpbel Fear Faraiste mhic Chailin an Comhal CC.”

To-day in Eire there is joy;

While harp and song wake gentle sounds;

The strains of tuneful throats are heard

Within old Albin’s gladdened bounds.

The pow’r that kindles this delight

Is that sweet tongue of those fair lands

Which lay so long in captive chains;

It wakens now and breaks the bands.

In it have terms of peace been sealed,

In it Jehovah’s praises sung;

Small be the lore of learned men

Who know not this rich ancient tongue.

This moved to work the noble Lhuyd,

Whose words of eloquence proceed

From that deep fount beside which grew

The Oakling of the Celtic seed.

’Tis time to teach and woo the muse

Where fair Oxonia rears her towers,

Where classic learning finds her home,

And Isis shows her banks of flowers.

Tyree, Mull, and Cowal are not the only places where clergymen were wont to “woo the muse” in those days. Poetic expressions of admiration and encouragement were also sent to Lhuyd from Ardchattan, and Islay. Here is that of the Rev. James MacPherson, of Kildalton:

Thou art welcome, gentle scholar,

To the Highlands’ wave-worn shore;

In all provinces of Eire

Thine is welcome evermore.

Welcome through the Gaelic borders,

England will accord thee hail:

Chiefs will make of thee companion,

Praise will come from Ireland’s Gael.

From the tomb thou hast awakened

Our neglected ancient tongue,

Which, though long in bonds forgotten,

Into printed life has sprung.

Rich and wise is thy instruction;

Clear and learned is thy speech;

Ancient words gain force and meaning

On each page as thou dost teach.

Bear to learned Lhuyd my blessing,

Who our language has restored;

Hence to him great praise and welcome

Gaels shall everywhere accord.

The Rev. Colin Campbell wrote his in Latin, which till that period was the medium of communication among Highland ecclesiastics.

John Whyte, called Forsair Choir’an-t-Si, belonged to the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth century. He lived near Kilmun, and composed a good many songs which are recognised as of a superior order. He was the ancestor of some of the name who have been known for their strongly Celtic sympathies.

William Mackenzie, otherwise known as An Ceisteir Crubach, was born in Gairloch about 1670. He was a bard of superior powers; but the loose character and profanity of some of his compositions caused the Presbytery that engaged his services as a Catechist to dismiss him from his office. Mackenzie, of “The Beauties of Gaelic Poetry,” has published a lengthy song of his which is a blot on the whole work.

John MacLean, who was a native of Mull, where he was for long a popular poet, is the author of a few songs of superior merit. His compositions were general favourites at the time of Johnson and Boswell’s journey to the Hebrides. They heard some of his songs sung by a lady. He composed an excellent piece on Sir Hector MacLean when he went to France in 1721. The bard died in 1760.

Malcolm MacLean, otherwise known as Calum a’ Ghlinne, was a native of Kinlochewe, in Ross-shire. He was a soldier, and served for some time abroad, where he deeply learned the worship of Bacchus. “Mo Chailin donn og” is yet popular. It was composed for his daughter. He died in 1764.

Am Bard Mucanach, a Macdonald, originally from Glencoe, lived in the island of Muck, and is the author of a very good poem on the “Massacre of Glencoe.”

Angus Macdonald, a native of Glencoe, is the author of the popular song “Bha Claidheamh air Iain ’san t-searmoin.” It was intended to ridicule the cowardly conduct of a John Gibeach, who was at the battle of Sheriffmuir in 1715, but who took to flight instead of remaining to fight.

John MacCodrum.—This original and witty bard was a native of North Uist. He lived at the same time as his more famous contemporary, Alexander Macdonald. The accomplished Sir James Macdonald, who died at Rome in 1766, made MacCodrum his bard, and gave him free land in North Uist. He met James Macpherson when collecting Gaelic materials for the poems of Ossian; and the Uist bard appears to have indulged in wit at the expense of Macpherson. MacCodrum is a poet of great ability and satiric power. His poems on “Old Age” and “Whisky” are of a first-class order. He was, like many of the bards of his day, a keen Jacobite.

The poet’s attachment to his patron inspired a tender elegiac song of which the following translated verses are a specimen:—

As I awake it is not sleep

That strives with me in troubles deep;

My bed beneath the tears I weep

Is in disquiet:

My bed beneath, &c.

Of him, my patron bright, bereft,

I have no fair possession left;

While pain of loss my soul has cleft

In sight and hearing:

While pain of loss, &c.

Sore tears are ours; joy is no more;

No hope of smiles; no cheer in store;

We seem like the brave Fians of yore

And Finn forsaken:

We seem like the, &c.

Ah! true it seems the tale to tell;

Our cup is filled with doings fell;

Provoking in a rage of hell

Bless’d God the Highest:

Provoking in a rage, &c.

Blest One from Thee let us not swerve;

Above with Thee he goes to serve;

O Christ! do Thou for us preserve

Our loving brothers:

O Christ! do Thou, &c.

The early death of the subject of this elegy,—of Sir James Macdonald,—wrought the bard into unwonted seriousness. As his name indicates, this poet is a representative of the commingled Norse and Celtic races of the Hebridean people.

Hector MacLeod was a native of South Uist. Like MacCodrum, he was a zealous Jacobite, and after 1715 lived in the Roman Catholic districts of Arisaig and Morar. There is much originality and poetical ingenuity in MacLeod, who, finding it dangerous to sing his Jacobite leanings without disguise, had recourse to allegorical ways of expressing himself.

Archibald Macdonald, known as Gilleasbuig na Ciotaig, or left-handed Archibald, also a native of Uist, is one of the few comic bards that the Highlands have produced. An “Elegy” on John Roy, a piper while living, and the “Resurrection” of the same, are really clever productions, as well as his song for Dr MacLeod, a St. Kildian, who was for some time a surgeon in a Highland regiment.

Zachary Macaulay, whose father was an accomplished Episcopalian clergyman, was born in the island of Lewis at the beginning of the eighteenth century. He is thought in his youth to have written some “wanton” songs; his published pieces show true poetic instinct and power. The air of one of his songs was a favourite with Burns. Lord Macaulay was a descendant of Zachary’s family, from whom the brilliant essayist and historian evidently inherited his genius.

Like that of all other peoples, the limited literature of the Scottish Clans has had its periods of revival and decadence. The bolder and more original poetry of the early centuries of our story was followed by the feeble and imitative strains of the verse writers of the medieval generations.