A REMARKABLE FEUDAL CUSTOM.
It is happy for the present age that the ancient manners and customs, which were practised in the Highlands and Islands under the Feudal system, have long since fallen into oblivion. It would fill volumes to relate the numerous practices which were then resorted to by the feudal lords, many of which were cruel in themselves, and entailed great hardships on their submissive vassals who were bound to obey. As the chiefs had full power over the life and death of their retainers, such of them as betrayed any disobedience or opposition to the stern demands of their superiors, rendered themselves liable to the severest punishment, and frequently to nothing less than the penalty of death. The national laws of Kings and Queens had then but little influence in checking or counteracting the peremptory enactments of Feudalism.
The following striking instance of the remarkable practices alluded to will furnish a specimen to the readers of the Celtic Magazine, of what took place in Skye, not much more than a century and a half ago.
No sooner did the death of a tenant take place than the event was announced to the laird of the soil. The Land-Stewart, or ground-officer, incurred the displeasure of his master unless that announcement were made no later than three days after it had occurred. Immediately after the deceased farmer had been consigned to the grave, the disconsolate widow, if he had left one, was waited upon by a messenger from the landlord, to deliver up to him the best horse on the farm, such being reckoned then the legal property of the owner of the soil. This rule was as unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians. On large and extensive farms the demand was submitted to without much complaint, by the widow, children, or heirs of the deceased, but it pressed hard upon the occupiers of small tenements of land, and particularly so on helpless widows. But whoever refused, or attempted to evade this heartless enactment, forfeited every right to their farms in future, and became liable to have all their goods and chattels confiscated to the laird. It frequently happened that a poor farmer had but one horse, yet even this circumstance did not mitigate the cruelty of the practice; for the solitary animal was taken away, and frequently so to the great distress of the younger branches of the orphan family, who mourned bitterly, and often shed tears for the loss of their favourite animal.
A circumstance took place in the parish of Strath, which was, it is said, the means of abolishing this abominable rule. About the beginning of the seventeenth century a farmer, of the name of Mackinnon, was gathered to his fathers in the parish, and after his interment the laird's messenger visited the afflicted widow, and, as usual, demanded the best horse on her little farm. Her husband having been a kinsman of the laird, and expecting, in her distress, to receive some sympathy from her chief, and at all events, some relaxation of that rule which had been all along so resistlessly put in force, she showed much reluctance to part with the animal. Seeing this, the officer became more and more determined to have it. The widow, in the same manner, became more and more determined in her refusal, and appealed to him in vain to submit the case to the decision of her chief. The officer was inexorable, and becoming incensed at the woman's pertinacity he turned from words to blows, and inflicted some severe wounds on the helpless female to the effusion of blood. She, however, retaliated, and through desperation, assuming more courage, addressed her little son, a boy of four, that stood weeping by her side, and said to him in her own emphatic vernacular:—
"Cha mhac mar an t-athair thu, a' Lachlainn Oig,
Mar diol thu le fuil droch caithreamh do mhàthar;
'S mar smàil thu gu bàs, le diòghaltas air chòir,
Am borb-fhear fiadhaich so, am mòrtair gu'n nàr!"
Literally translated:—
"Thou art not a son like the father, my young Lachlan,
Unless thou requite with blood the ill-treatment of thy mother;
And unless thou dash to death, with due revenge,
This fierce and savage fellow—this bare-faced murderer!"
The mother's charge to her boy cannot be said to be tempered with much Christian feeling or principle, yet it was according to the generally cherished practices of the system under which she lived. Then it was that might was right, and revenge bravery. But to return to the subject—the widow's cries and tears, excitement and eloquence, were all in vain. The officer made off with the horse and delivered it to his chief.
Matters went on in this way, in various quarters, for a considerable time, until at length, and about twenty years thereafter, the same officer appeared on the same errand at a neighbouring widow's door, and deprived her as usual of her best horse. The circumstance was brought under the notice of Lachlan Og, and having been, no doubt, frequently reminded of the cruelty inflicted by that official on his mother, was determined to embrace the present befitting occasion for displaying his dire revenge. It may be stated that young Lachlan was noted in the district for his great agility and muscular strength. He made no delay in pursuing the officer, and having come up to him at the distance of some miles, he seized him by the neck and sternly demanded the widow's horse, reminding him, at the same time, of the treatment inflicted by him on his mother twenty years before. The officer stood petrified with fear, seeing fierceness and revenge depicted so very unmistakably in young Mackinnon's face. Yet still he grasped the animal by the halter, and would not permit his youthful assailant to intermeddle with it. The strife commenced, and that in right earnest, but in a few moments the officer fell lifeless on the ground. Mackinnon, seizing his dirk, dissevered the head from the body, and washed it in a fountain by the wayside, which is still pointed out to the traveller as "Tobar a' chinn," or "The Well of the Head." He then, at once, mounted the horse, and galloped off to the residence of his chief, carrying the bloody head in his left hand on the point of his dirk. His appearance at the main entrance, with the ghastly trophy still bleeding in his hand, greatly alarmed the menials of the mansion. Without dismounting he inquired if Mackinnon was at home, and being told that he was, he said, "Go and tell my Chief that I have arrived to present him with the head of his officer 'Donnuchadh Mor,' in case that he might wish to embalm it and hang it up in his baronial hall as a trophy of heartlessness and cruelty." The message was instantly delivered to the laird, who could not believe that such a diabolical deed could be perpetrated by any of his clan, but still he came out to see. On his appearance in the court, Lachlan Og dismounted, did obeisance to his chief, and prominently exhibited the dripping head, by lifting it up on his dirk. "What is this, Lachlan, what murder is this?" asked the excited chief. Lachlan explained the whole in full detail, and related the circumstances of the present transaction, as well as of the inhuman treatment which his mother had received when he was a child. The chieftain pondered, paused, and declared that these cruelties had been practised unknown to him. He granted a free pardon to Lachlan Og, appointed him his officer in room of Donnuchadh Mor, and issued an edict over all his estate that thereafter neither widow nor orphan, heir, nor kindred, would ever be deprived by him of their horse, or of any other part of their property.
SGIATHANACH.