A TRADITION OF ISLAY.
The western isles according to tradition were thinly inhabited for a long period of years, after the defeat and expulsion of the Norsemen. These invaders had left few of the natives alive and the land remained desolate. The first man then who took possession of the country was powerful John MacConnal who was called, the shepherd of the isles, and the first of the lords of the isles (Iain mòr Maconuil ris an abairteadh buachaille nan eileanan, b’e ceud tighearna nan eileanan). He had seven sons, among whom, when they came of age, he began to divide his possessions, but the Highlands and isles being too limited in his opinion for division among so many, he went away to Ireland with one of his sons, to overthrow one or more of the five kings by whom that country was then governed, and put his son in possession of any territory he might acquire in the contest, leaving his eldest son in Islay, which was the first of the isles possessed by him. In this enterprise he succeeded in seizing that part of Ireland then under the authority of the Earl of Antrim, and gave it to his son, whose nephew came from Islay, when some years had passed, to see him in Antrim. This nephew during one of those visits fell in love with a noblewoman of the country whom he asked in marriage. His proposal being agreed to, he was requested, as was then the custom, to name the dowry he wanted with her. His request was 700 men who had nicknames (far-ainmeannan) to take with him to Islay. In those days, it is said, that great men and nobles only had pseudonyms and he took this method of getting these and their followers to repeople the isles, and their descendants are yet to be found in many parts of the country as well as in the islands.
NOTES:
Islay is separated from the island of Jura by the sound of Islay and lies west of Cantyre in Argyleshire. Its extent is 25 miles long and 17 miles broad. The south west point is called the Rhinns (an roinn Ileach). The island is hilly and penetrated by an arm of the sea, Lochindaal, which is 12 miles long and 8 miles broad. There are good crops grown on the island and cattle are reared and fish is abundant on its coasts. A small quantity of various kinds of ore is found throughout the island, but its distilleries are its chief industry at the present day. It was in former times the chief residence of the Lords of the Isles, and the ruins of castles, forts, and chapels are numerous and interesting as records of a past age.
The Beatons or Bethunes and MacLarty are said to have been among those who came from Ireland with MacConuil. The latter being descendants of grey haired Niel (Nial Liath) who was interpreter (fear-labhairt) for Maconnal, hence the name. It is told of Niel, that being at one time surrounded by his enemies in a battle, he was commanded to deliver his sword. “If I do,” he said, “it will be by the point” (ma liubhras, ’sann an aghaidh a ranna), and cleaving his way through them he escaped and joined his companions.
After his settlement in the western island MacConnal (Iain Mòr MacConuill) is said to have divided his possessions among his seven sons by sending one of them John (Iain) to Glencoe, hence the patronymic Clan of the son of John of Glencoe (Clann ’ic Iain Ghleann-a-comhunn), another son Ronald (Raonull) was sent to Keppoch (a’ Cheapaich), one Allan (Ailean) was sent to Moidart (Mùideart). These were settled on the mainland in the counties of Argyle and Inverness, while the island of Skye was given to another son, Grim Donald of Sleat, (Dòmhnull gorm Shléibhte). Another son got the smaller isles, and another went to Ireland and became Earl of Antrim while the heir remained in Islay and held the adjacent islands as well as portions of the mainland. Of the 700 who returned with his son from Antrim to people the islands after the expulsion of the Norsemen, 22 were heads of families. The person from whom the writer heard this, now above 70 years of age, was certain that Beaton or Bethune was one of the names, but he had forgotten the others.
FAIR LACHLAN, SON OF FAIR NEIL OF DERVAIG.
(Lachunn fionn mac Neill bhàin, Fear Dhearbhaig.)
At the time when Lachlan Kattanach was Chief of MacLean (ri linn Mhic-’illeathain Lachunn Cattanach na gruaige), his wife (a bhantighearna) dreamt about an Irish chief of the name of William O’Power (?) (Uilleam O’ buaidh) and in the same way, at the same time, this Irish Chief dreamt about her. It happened then that they began to communicate with each other. (At that time more trade was carried on with Ireland by these Western Isles than with any other place.) One day MacLean discovered that his wife was keeping on a correspondence, unknown to him, with the Irish Chief, and was much distressed about this injury to his honour. In order to test his wife’s affection for her secret lover, he went to her with a penknife in his hand and said, “There is a present O’ buaidh has sent you.” She looked at the knife and said,
“My darling who sent me the knife
I weary at his delay in coming across the sea,
And may I not enjoy health
If I do love it better than the hand that holds it.”
(M’ eudail ’chuir thugam an sgian
’S fhada leam a thriall thar muir,
’S na ’n a mheall mi mo shlàint’
Mur docha leam i na’n lamh ’sa bheil).
MacLean was then convinced of his wife’s disgrace, and went away and sent for his kinsman, Fair Lachlan (Lachunn fionn) who was then at Hynish, and who, on receiving a message from his Chief, went immediately to Island House. On reaching, MacLean said to him, “I sent for you to go to Ireland; you are a clever man and you have seven sons, go and bring me the head of O’Power, and any crime you may commit, or any injustice you may from this time do to any one, will be over looked by me (tha thu ’n ad dhuine tapaidh ’s seachdnar mhac agad, falbh ’s thoir g’ am ionnsuidh ceann Uilleam O’ buaidhe ’s aona chron na anaceart sam bith nì thu theid a mhathadh dhuit leamsa). Next day, Lachunn fionn with his sons set off in the galley, and before sundown he was in Islay. The following day he was in Ireland, and asked the first person he met for the man he was tracing (a bha e air a luirg). “If you wish to see him,” the person said, “he is coming this way, in a coach drawn by two white horses, and no one in Ireland has that but himself.” The old man then went on to try and meet him, and after going a short distance he saw him coming towards him to meet him (chaidh an sean duine air aghaidh feuch an tachradh e air, ’s an ceann ceum na dhà chunnaic e e tighinn ’na choinneamh ’s ’na chòmhail). When he came near, O’Power (O’ buaidh) commanded him to stop, and said, “I see you are a stranger in the place?” “Indeed,” he replied, (seadh ars’ esan). “Whence have you come?” the Chief asked, (Co ás a thàinig thu?). “I came from Tiree,” he answered. “Do you know the lady of MacLean there?” “I know her well,” he said. “Will you bring her a message from me?” (An toir thu fios uam g’ a h-ionnsuidh?) “I will,” he said, (bheir, ars’ esan). The chief there and then put the message in order, and put his head out of the coach to deliver it, but the other, while taking it with the one hand, struck off his head with the other hand. (Sin fhéin chuir e ’n teachdaireachd air doigh ’s chuir e mach a cheann g’ a toirt dà, ’s ’nuair bha e ’ga gabhail leis an aona laimh thilg e dheth an ceann leis an laimh eile). The man-servant was stupified (lit. went astray), (chaidh an gille air seacharan), and Fair Lachlan got an opportunity (fhuair e fàth) of taking the head with him to the galley with which he set sail (leig e ri cuain di) and was in Islay on his return journey that evening. Next day after (maireach ’na dheighinn sin) he was in Tiree, and went early in the day to Island House (do ’n eilean). Finding, on reaching, that MacLean and his wife were at breakfast, he went in where they were and put the head of the Irish Chief on the end of the table, with the face towards MacLean’s wife. She looked at it and fell down stone dead at the side of the table (sheall i air ’s thuit i fuar marbh aig taobh a’ bhùird). Some time after this Fair Lachlan’s sons were taking peats home from Moss to Hynish. There were five of them with seven horses, which were fastened together, and went on one after another, having a sort of deep basket (cliabh) slung on each side of each horse for the conveyance of burdens. On account of Big Dewar of Balemartin, who was so fierce, (co fiadhaich) they could not take the straight way by Balemartin to Hynish, but had to take the more rugged path by Hynish hill, where, at Creag nan cliabh (Creel rock) the footpath was so narrow that on these occasions a person was in waiting to be in readiness to take the creels off the horses and carry them past the rock. At that time, there was a mill past Balviceon, with a bridge across the dam which had to be lifted before sundown, and on their way they had to pass across the bridge. It happened on this occasion that the young men, by their own folly (le ’n amaideachd fhein), were later than usual of returning, and the bridge was withdrawn; and with the speed with which they were going on, they did not observe that the bridge was lifted, and the foremost of the horses went headlong into the dam and was choked (air a thachdadh). The lads made their way home, and told their father how the miller had taken away the bridge, and what had happened to them. He said, “If my horse was choked on his account (air a thàillibh), the same thing will be done to him to-night yet”; and that was what happened. He and his sons went back the same way, step by step, (air a’ cheart cheum), and they caught the poor man while he was asleep (rug iad air an duine ’na leabaidh) and took him with them and hung him on the hillock of the cross (bac na croiche), opposite Island House. When a servant went in early next morning to kindle a fire in the room where MacLean was, he asked what sort of day it was. The servant said that it was a good day, but that a strange sight was to be seen (ni a tha cuir ioghnadh mór orm ri fhaicinn). “What is that?” the Chief asked. “It is a man hung on the hillock up yonder (duine air a chrochadh air a’ chroich shuas ud). MacLean said, as he rose up, “Who or what person dared do this without my permission? (Co an aona duine ’san dùthaich aig an robh ’chridh leithid so dheanamh gun chuir ’nam cheadsa?) When he saw the deed that was done, he shed bitter tears, and said that no one had done this but Fair Lachlan (cha d’ rinn duine riamh so ach Lachunn fionn). “It was in the agreement I made with him when he brought me the man’s head from Ireland.” This was the last hanging that was done in the island (b’e so an crochadh mu dheireadh a rinneadh ’s an eilean).
THE MESSAGE DELIVERED TO THE LOVER AND THE MANNER OF HIS DEATH.