MACLEANS OF COLL.
The Laird of Dowart was on his way to gather rent in Tiree, and sent ashore to Kelis (Caolas), Coll, for meat (biadhtachd). The woman of the house told MacLean was not worth sending meat to, and Dowart kindly came ashore to see why she said so. She said it because he was not taking Coll for himself. Three brothers from Lochlin had Coll at the time, Big Annla (Annla Mòr) in Loch Annla, another in Dun bithig in Totronald, and the third in Grisipol hill. She had thirty men herself fit to bear arms. Dowart went to Loch Annla fort late in the evening alone, and was hospitably received. Annla’s arrows were near the fire, and Dowart gradually edged near them till he managed to make off with them. This led to a fight at Grimsari and is perhaps the reason why Dowart encouraged Iain Garbh to make himself master of Coll.
Stout John (Iain Garbh) was the fourth MacLean,—others say the first of Coll. When nine or twelve months old, his mother, having become a widow, had married MacNeill of Barra, Iain Garbh was sent by his step-father to Barra, in charge of a nurse (ban-altruim). This woman was courted by a Barra-man, whom, as her charge was a pretty boy, she at first refused. Her lover, however, got word that Iain Garbh was to be killed at MacNeill’s instigation, and told her. The three fled, in a boat with two oars, from Barra during night. An eight-oared galley (ochd ràmhach), with a steersman set off in chase. At Sorisdale in Coll, beyond Eilereig, in the borderline (crìch) between Sorisdale and Boust, there is a narrow sound, for which both boats were making, and the little one was almost overtaken. It was overtake and not overtake (beir‘s cha bheir). The little boat went through the sound (caolas) safely, but the oars of the large boat were broken. Hence, ’The Sound of Breaking Oars’ (Caolas ’Bhriste-Ràmh) is the name of the Sound to this day. The little boat put to sea again, and was lost to sight. The Barra men went to every harbour near, “The Wooded Bay” (Bàgh na Coille) &c., where they thought it might come, but they never saw it again. It is supposed it went to Mull. There is no further mention of the Barra man or the nurse. Stout John (Iain Garbh) went to Ireland, and when well grown told the woman with whom he stayed that he had a dream of a pile of oaten cakes (tòrr de bhonnaich choirce) and a drip from the roof (boinne snithe), had fallen and gone right through them. The woman said the dream meant he was a laird of land (ceannard fearainn) and would get back his own. On this he came to Mull, and having got men, of whom seven were from Dervaig, the baldheaded black fellow, (gille maol dubh) afterwards known as Grizzled Lad (Gille Riabhach) being one of them with him, went to Coll. His companions vowed to kill whatever living (beò) they fell in with first, after landing in Coll. Stout John (Iain Garbh) had a mark on the forehead by his having fallen on the edge of an iron pot. His foster-mother (muime) was gathering shellfish (buain maoraich). He went to speak to her, when he came behind her as she stumbled, and she exclaimed, “God be with MacLean” (“Dia le Mac-’illeathain”), “My loss that MacLean is not alive” (“Mo sgaradh nach bu mhairionn do Mhac-’illeathain”). When pressed to explain herself she said, “Conceal what I said: many an unfortunate word women say” (“Dean rùn maith orm: is ioma facal tubaisdeach their na mnathan”), and at last he told her his story. It had been long foretold that he would return. The Mull men came up, and the Grizzled Lad (Gille Riabhach) was going to kill the woman, according to the vow. Stout John (Iain Garbh) told who she was, and her life was spared. She informed them that MacNeill sent a servant every day from Grisipol House, where his headquarters were, to Breacacha for news. If all was well, the messenger was to return riding slowly with his face to the horse’s tail; if any one returned with him, a friend was to walk on the right of the horse, a stranger (fògarach) on the left; and she said that he had just left on his way home. Stout John (Iain Garbh) and his companions left the Hidden Anchorage (Acarsaid Fhalaich) and went to the top of the place called Desert (Fàsach). They there saw the rider of the white horse at Arileòid. Stout John (Iain Garbh) promised reward to any one who would intercept him, before he reached Grisipol. The Grizzled Lad (Gille Riabhach) said he would do so, if he got Dervaig, his native place, rent free. MacLean promised this, but the lad said, “Words may be great till it comes to solemn oaths” (Is mór briathran gun lughadh), made him swear to the deed. The Grizzled Lad (Gille Riabhach) set off, and above the Broad Knoll (Cnoc Leathan) saw the horseman at the township of Hough. When at the Stone of Moaning (Clach Ochanaich), on the top of Ben Hough, he saw him past Clabbach. He made for the road, near the present Free Church Manse, and lay down, and pretending to be a beggar began to hunt through his clothes. Where the Little Cairn of the King’s Son (Carnan mhic an Righ) stands, the horseman came up, was pulled off his horse and killed. The lad then waited till his companions came up, and proceeded to Grisipol with two on each side. It was dinner time, and his servant the Black Lad (Gille Dubh) brought word to MacNeill of the party coming. His wife, looking out of an opening, said one of the party coming looked like her son. MacNeill exclaimed, “War time is not a time for sleep” (“Cha-n àm cadal an cogadh”), and went out to give battle. In the fight the Grizzled Lad (Gille Riabhach) was hard pressed by the Black Lad, (Gille Dubh), and sideways jumped the stream that runs past Grisipol House at the place still known as the Grizzly Lad’s leap (Leum a’ Ghille Riabhaich) to avoid the blow of the battle-axe. The axe stuck in the ground, and before it was recovered, the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach), jumping back, threw off the Black Lad’s (Gille Dubh) head. Stout John (Iain Garbh) was hard pressed by MacNeill himself, and both were out in the sea at the foot of the stream.
“Disgrace on you MacLean, though it is enough that you are being driven by the son of the skate-eating carl” (“Miapadh ort, a Mhic ’illeathainn, ’s leoir tha thu gabhail iomain roimh Mhac bodach nan sgat”), said the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) coming up to them, and then calling to MacNeill, “I am not in a mood to deceive you, there they are behind you” (“Cha bhi mi ’m brath foille dhuit, sin iad agad air do chùlthaobh”), and when MacNeill turned round the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) threw off his head with the axe. The MacNeills fled and were beset and killed in the Hollow of bones (Slochd-nan-cnàmh) in the lower part of Grisipol Hill (Iochdar Beinn Ghrisipol). They then returned to Grisipol, and MacNeill’s widow, Stout John’s (Iain Garbh’s) mother, held up her child a suckling (ciocharan), that Stout John (Iain Garbh) might spare him and acknowledge his own half-brother. He was for sparing it, but the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) told him to put the needle on the ploughshare (cuir an t-snathad air a’ choltar). The child was killed.
An additional if not a different account is:
Stout John (Iain Garbh) first of Coll, when a boy, was obliged to fly from Coll to Dowart, and his mother married MacNeill of Barra. When he came of age, and was for making good his claim to his native island, in raising the clan he came to a widow’s house in Dervaig. She said her other sons were away, or they would be at his service, and she had only a big stripling of a grizzly looking lad (Stiall mòr de ghille riabhach) if he choose to take him. He took him, and it was well for him he did. It is said that this family of whom the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) was one, and whose services were at MacLean’s command, were Campbells. MacNeill kept a man with a white horse at Arinagour, and if the MacLeans were heard to land in the island, he was to ride off at full speed to Breacacha. If anything was wrong the messenger was to turn his head to the horse’s tail when he came in sight of Breacacha. The Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) took across the hill, where there is now a straight road, and intercepted this rider. On hearing from him that MacNeill was at Grisipol, he suddenly leapt behind him on the horse, and killed him with his dirk. He rode back to his own party, and then slowly to Grisipol where the MacNeills were at dinner.
MacLean and his men were faint and weary for want of food. They had not tasted anything since they left Mull. They entered a tenant’s house and asked food. The man had nothing for them, once he had enough, but since the MacLeans had left the island, he had come to grief and poverty. He said to Stout John (Iain Garbh) his heart warmed to him, he was so like his ancient masters. On learning who they were he gave all the milk he had to them.
At the fight at Grisipol, the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) was hard pressed by MacNeill’s body servant, who was armed with a battle-axe. On the margin of the stream, as the axe was raised to strike down, he leaped backwards, and upwards, across the stream, and the place of the leap is still known as the ‘Grizzly Lad’s leap’ (Leum a’ Ghille Riabhaich). The axe went into the ground, and before MacNeill’s man could defend himself the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) jumped back and threw off his head.
Stout John (Iain Garbh) himself was hard pressed by MacNeill, and driven to the beach. The Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) came to his rescue. MacNeill’s wife cried out to Stout John (Iain Garbh) her son by her first marriage, that his enemies were coming behind him. The Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) called out to him to watch his enemies in front, and he would watch those behind.
MacNeill and his men were killed. The Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) said he would take to flight and pretend to be one of the MacNeills, of whom another party was coming to the rescue from Breacacha. He fled and made signals to the MacNeills to fly. They fled to a cave near the Hidden Anchorage (Acarsaid fhalaich) where their bones are still to be seen.
When Stout John (Iain Garbh) entered Grisipol house, his mother stood before him with a child, his half brother, on her shoulder. She told him to look at his young brother smiling at him. Stout John (Iain Garbh) was for sparing the infant but the Grizzly Lad (Gille Riabhach) warned him, the child if spared to come of age would avenge his father’s death, and he himself stabbed the infant with his dirk on his mother’s shoulder.
BROWNS OF TIREE.
(Clann-a-Bhruthain).
The Browns of Tiree at the present day are called Brunaich, sing. Brunach, evidently a word not of native origin, and likely an adaptation of the English Brown. Brown as the name of a colour is an English word but not Gaelic, the Gaelic for it being donn, hence as a clan name many affirm that the Brown of the present day is a corruption or modification of Bruthainn certainly the older name, and till very recently, the name given to a sept or portion of the Browns. There are also many who maintain that the oldest form of all is Mac-’ill-duinn. Other explanations are also put forward in behalf of the origin of the name, but none of them are satisfactorily conclusive. The following story of how the Browns came first to Tiree is a tradition as like to be true as any other. It was heard from a native of the island, well acquainted with the traditions of his countrymen.
The wife of MacLean of Dowart was a daughter of the Lord of the Isles. Her father on visiting her at Aros had found her destitute of table-linen, and on her being spoken to on the subject, she said that there was no place on the estate where lint could be grown. Her father then gave her the island of Tiree as a good flax-growing country, that she might not be open to that reproach any longer. In this way the island of Tiree remained in the possession of the Dowart family till the forfeiture of the clan towards the end of the seventeenth century. The MacLeans seem to have ruled the island with a rod of iron. There is still shewn the hillock called the Bank of the Gallows (Bac na Croiche), where the man who came in last with his rent at collection time was hanged. A party of strong men called ‘MacLean’s attributes’ (buaidheanan Mhic-’illeathain) but more correctly oppressors and bullies, were kept in the island to overawe the people.
This wife of Dowart, with her galley and men, was at Croig in Mull, awaiting for a passage across to Tiree. When the men were getting the galley in order, a big strong man was observed making his way to the boat. His appearance was that of a beggar, with tattered and patched garments (lùirichean). He quietly asked to be allowed a passage with them. The master of the boat gruffly refused, saying, that they would not allow one like him to be in the same boat with their mistress, but the beggar said that his being there would make no difference, and asked the favour of getting a passage from her. She gave him permission and he seated himself at the end of the boat furthest from her to avoid giving trouble to her. The day was becoming boisterous; it was not long till the master said that the wind was becoming too high, and the day unlikely. A heavy sea was shipped wetting the Lady of Dowart, and the beggar said to the master, “Can you not steer better than that?” The master said “Could you do better?” The beggar replied “It would not be difficult for me to do better than that at any rate. Show me the direction where you wish to go,” and on it being shewn to him he added “I think you may go on that you will make land.”
“What do you know?” the other said, “it is none of your business to speak here.”
The Lady then spoke, and said to the beggar, “Will you take the boat there if you get the command of it?” He said he would, and she gave orders to let him have the command. He sat at the helm and told them to shorten sail, and make everything taut, and now, the boat did not take in a thimbleful of water. They made for Tiree, and the place come to was the lower part of Hynish, at the furthest extremity of the island. The first place of shelter which the beggar saw, he let the boat in there. The little cove is still known as the Port of the Galley (Port-na-Birlinn) on the south side of Barradhu where the present dwellings belonging to the Skerryvore Lighthouse are. The company landed safely, and on parting the Lady of Dowart told the beggar man to come to see her at Island House, where the residence of the Dowart family was at that time, and which is still the proprietory residence of the island. The name Island House is derived from its present site having been formerly surrounded by the water of the fresh-water lake near it. It communicated with the rest of the island by means of a draw-bridge, but there being now no necessity for this safeguard the space between the house and the shore has been filled up, and the moated grange has become like ordinary dwelling houses. The stranger wandered about for some time, and then went to the Island House and was kindly received. After a day or two, he thought it would be better to get a house for himself, and the Lady of Dowart said that she would give him any place that he himself would fix upon. Apparently the island was not much tenanted then, and according to the custom of the time, he got a horse with a pack-saddle on, and on the ridge of the saddle (cairb na srathrach), he put the upper and lower stones of a quern (bràthuinn), one on each side of the horse, secured by a straw, or sea-bent rope, and wherever the rope broke it was lucky to build the house there. The beggar-man’s quern fell at Sunny Spot (Grianal), now better known as Greenhill. He built a bothy there, and a woman came to keep house for him. By her he had a son, whom he would not acknowledge. When the child was able to take care of itself she went again to him with it that she might be free. He still refused to receive the child and told her to avoid him. She then thought as she had heard from him before where he came from, that she would go with her son to his relatives in Ireland. When she arrived there the child’s grandfather received her very kindly. She stayed with him till her son had grown to manhood (gus an robh e ’na làn duine). As she was about to return the grandfather said to his grandson, “Which do you now prefer, to follow your mother, or stay with me?” The lad said he would rather follow his mother, and risk his fortune along with her. They came back to Tiree again, and the son would give no rest till they went to see his father. When they reached the bothy the mother said “you will surely receive your son to-day though you would not acknowledge him before.” But he would not any more than at first. His son then took hold of him, and putting his knee on his breast, said, “before you rise from there you will own me as your lawful son, and my mother as your married wife.” He did this and was set free. They then lived together and built a house, and houses, and increased in stock of cattle. One wild evening in spring, when they were folding the cattle, they observed a stout looking man of mean appearance coming from Kilkenneth, still a township in that part of the island, and making straight for the house.
“I never saw a bigger man than that beggar,” said the son.
“He is big,” the father said, “I well know what man it is; he is coming after me, and I will lose my life this night, I killed his brother, but it was not my fault, for if I had not killed him, he would have killed me.”
“Perhaps you will not lose your life to-night yet,” said the son, “be kind to him, and when he has warmed himself, ask him to go out with us to kill a cow, for the night is cold.”
The stranger came in and was made welcome. The old man then said since there was a stranger, and the night chilly, they better take a cow and kill it. They went out and brought in the cow. The young man said to the stranger, “Which would you rather, take the axe, or hold the cow’s horn?” (Co dhiu b’ fhearr leis an tuath na ’n adharc). The stranger chose to hold the horn, and the blow by which the beast was felled was so sudden and unexpected that the stranger fell with it. The youth immediately fell upon him and kept him down, saying, “You will only have what you can do for yourself, till you tell why you came here to-night (Cha bhi agad ach na bheir thu g’ a chionn gus an aidich thu ’de thug so an nochd thu). He told word for word how he came to avenge his brother’s death. (Dh’ innis e facal air an fhacal mar thainig e thoirt mach éirig a bhràthair).
“You will not leave this alive” said the young man, “until you promise not to molest my father while you remain in the country.” The stranger vowed, if released he would not offend anyone. He was allowed to remain and they passed the night cheerfully and peacefully (gu sona sàmhach). The stranger returned the way he came. The father and son then settled together, and are said according to tradition, to have been the first Browns in Tiree.
Another version of the story is, that the first settler in Greenhill was a Campbell, and that he was the maker of those underground dwellings (tighean falaich) which still exist on that farm; curious habitations, which are unlike any building now in use, and worthy of closer examination by antiquarians. It is said that there are buildings with similar entrances exposed by sand blowing and covered with a great depth of earth in Tra-vi at the distance of two miles or more further south.
There is a precipice on the west side of Kenavara hill called Mac-a-Bhriuthainn’s leap (Leum Mhic-a-bhriuthainn) which one of this sept of Browns is said to have jumped across backwards, and which no one has since jumped either backwards or forwards. The one who took the jump is said to have been chased by a wild ox, which pushed him over the hill, and if he had not been a man of steady eye and limb, the fall would have ended in sure destruction. The place where he leapt was a ledge in the face of a precipice where the slightest overbalance or weakness, would have precipitated him several hundred feet into a dangerous and deep sea. No trained tightrope dancer ever required more sureness of eye and limb than must have been brought into action in this leap.
In the top of the same hill (Kenavara) there is a well, Briuthainn’s Well (Tobar Mhic-a-Bhriuthainn), which is said to have its name from the first who came to the island having, in his wanderings, subsisted on its water and wild water-cress.