ANTIQUITY NO. 14.—TUYERE, FROM THE FASAGH IRONWORKS.SCALE—ONE-FOURTH TRUE SIZE.
Thename ofRudha Chailleach, the long blue point jutting into Loch Maree to the south of Ardlair, suggests the ancient belief in witchcraft, but there are no stories of witches connected with it now extant. Yet the belief in witchcraft is by no means dead in Gairloch, and to the stranger the very appearance of some withered old women almost proves them to be witches.
Jessie the cripple, an example of whose second-sight is given in the next chapter, was a reputed witch; the story of her being ducked will be found there.
Witchcraft and magic are still said to be exercised by a number of people in Gairloch. Cases actually occurred in 1885 wherepersons were charged with the practice of these arts in connection with poultry. It seems better not to give details of them here, especially as it is said the poor folk are yet under suspicion.
The following are examples of the use of the arts of witchcraft and magic in Gairloch:—
There is a curious superstition that the substance, or staple or "fruit," of milk can be taken away by witchcraft, or by the employment of magical arts. In the records of the Presbytery of Lochcarron are minutes relating to a case which occurred at Kenlochewe. On 23d November 1791 the presbytery had examined a candidate for the appointment of catechist for the district of "Ceanlochew," and had been satisfied as to his knowledge, but "in consequence of stories rather detrimental to his private character," had arranged for an inquiry whether such stories had any foundation. On 3d April 1792 a petition on the subject was laid before the presbytery. One of the petitioners, Mr Murdo M'Kenzie, yr. of Letterewe, declared, "that he thought he had heard the candidate use such words as that he wished the devil had the soul of Mr Mackintosh, the parish minister; that he was in the habit of taking back the substance of milk by magical arts, for he himself (the declarant) and his brother were present when the candidate had recourse to certain herbs and an iron key, which were thrown into the declarant's milk in order to restore the fruit of it. Roderick M'Lennan, smith atCeannlochew, stated that he knew the candidate from his infancy, * * * that he was much addicted to swearing in common conversation, and that he had heard him say that he had restored the substance of deponent's milk by means of certain arts. The candidate being present, and questioned, admitted that he did actually restore the substance of the milk as stated by Mr M'Kenzie, yr. of Letterewe; all which being considered by the presbytery, they deemed him totally disqualified for the office of catechist, and declined to recommend him for such office to the Committee of the Royal Bounty."
Our next example of this strange superstition belongs to a more recent date. In the time of the late Sir Francis Mackenzie the parish schoolmaster of Gairloch was one Kenneth Mackenzie, who was a notorious master of witchcraft. He was always called the "maighstair sgoil." In his youth he had been taught many magical arts, and people who had been bewitched resorted to him from far and wide to obtain relief and advice. He lived in the present schoolmaster's house at Achtercairn, and kept several cows. On one occasion he himself was a sufferer from witchcraft. The milk of his cows was destroyed; if they gave any at all it was fruitless and useless. By his own skill in magic he discovered the woman who had done him this mischief; she lived at or near Strath, and was reputed to have some knowledge of witchcraft. This is how he punished her. There is a little burn runs by the side of the road at Achtercairn, just in front of the present police-station. One Sunday morning as the people from Strath, including this woman, were going to church, she was obliged, by the occult power of themaighstair sgoil, to remain behind; and as soon as the others were out of sightshe tucked up her dress above her knees and fastened it so, then she commenced jumping violently backwards and forwards across this little burn, unwillingly enough, as we may well suppose, and she was compelled by the unseenmaighstair sgoilto continue the severe exercise until the people came out of church. After the woman had suffered her well-merited punishment, the fruit returned to the milk of themaighstair sgoil's cows.Moral:—You should not meddle with one who possesses magical powers!
Here is a case of injury to milk which occurred within the last ten years. For obvious reasons I suppress the names of the persons concerned, who are all known to me and are now living. The erection of a house was undertaken, and the builders took up their abode in a temporary hut or barrack. Requiring milk to take with their porridge, they applied to a neighbouring farmer, but he was unable at the time to supply them. They fancied that the farmer withheld the milk from some spite he had to them, and they told him he would suffer for it; one of the builders is commonly believed to have some knowledge of witchcraft. What next occurred is kept secret, but the milk of the farmer's cows immediately afterwards lost its fruit; nothing but a viscous fluid, mingled with a little blood, came from the teats when the cows were milked. The farmer called to his aid the services of a woman living in the northern part of the parish known to be skilled in such matters, and she soon restored the substance to the milk. A still more recent case has come under my notice in the spring of 1886. A cow died at a farm with which I am well acquainted; its death was firmly believed to be the result of witchcraft, exercised by an adversary. Soon afterwards a cow at the same farm lost the substance of its milk; as in the case last described, only blood and water came from the cow; this also was believed to be the consequence of witchcraft. A man from Aultbea was sent for, and by his magical arts soon effected a cure. These latter cases are different from the old Kenlochewe case in one respect, viz., in the older case the substance of the milk was influenced after it had been taken from the cow, whilst in the subsequent cases the "fruit" of the milk was destroyed in the cows.
There are plenty of people in Gairloch in the present day who believe in the magical power of the charm or spell called the "sian" or "seun." By means of an incantation, sometimes coupled with the use of some visible medium, any object which it was desired to conceal could be rendered invisible, either for the time being only or for all time, subject in the latter case to brief periods of visibility recurring either at the end of each year, or more commonly at the end of each succeeding term of seven years. The medium, if any, employed along with the incantation, was usually a piece of vellum or stout skin of some sort, which in process of time became as hard and tough as wrought iron. James Mackenzie says he has seen a specimen preserved as a curiosity at Glamis Castle.
Duncan M'Rae lived in Isle Ewe and had the gift of the sian. We have seen, inPart I., chap. xiv., Duncan's fidelity to the unfortunatePrince Charlie. He accompanied the prince to Edinburgh, and there composed a well-known Gaelic song calledOran na Feannaige,i.e."the song of the hoodie-crow;" it related an imaginary dialogue between himself and the crow, suggested by his seeing one of those birds in the busy capital. After the fatal field of Culloden, Duncan M'Rae assisted in covering the prince's escape; he hovered around the prince, and used every means in his power to baffle the pursuers. Funds were sent from France to be conveyed by the faithful Highlanders to their beloved Prince Charlie, as circumstances might admit. A small cask or keg filled with gold pieces was entrusted to the charge of Duncan M'Rae, to be concealed until a chance should occur of delivering it to the prince. Duncan M'Rae and two other men brought the keg of gold in a boat across Loch Ewe from Mellon Charles to Cove. From Cove they carried the cask up to theFedan Mor, the large deep corrie or hollow on the hill aboveLoch a Druing; there they put the cask of gold into the ground, and it is the universal belief in Gairloch that it remains there to this day. Duncan M'Rae made use of the sian to render the cask invisible; he laid his amulet upon the head of the cask while he pronounced the magic words he knew; upon this the cask became invisible for all time, with this exception, that at the end of each period of seven years the effect of the spell is suspended during a very brief interval on one day only, when for a few moments the cask of gold becomes again visible to mortal eyes.
It was about 1826, the year that Sir Hector Mackenzie died, that the wife of Rorie Mackenzie, shepherd at Loch a Druing, called theCibear Mor, or "big shepherd," was herding the cows in theFedan Mor. She was spinning worsted, when suddenly she saw the head of the cask of gold close to where she sat. She stuck the distaff into it to mark the spot, and then ran down toLoch a Druingfor help to remove the long-lost treasure. When the people came to theFedan Morto fetch the cask of gold, neither it nor the distaff could after the most diligent search be discovered.
Asianof a similar nature, and with similar effect, is said to have been used many years ago by some persons who hid a large quantity of arms and weapons of all kinds in a cave atMeallan na Ghamhna. Both the cave and the weapons became invisible, but once in every seven years they may again be seen if any one be lucky enough to be on the spot at the right moment. It is not many years since the wife of Murdo Cameron of Inverasdale, and some other women, were gathering lichens from the rocks atMeallan na Ghamhna, when they suddenly saw the cave and weapons. They ran to tell others, and soon returned with several helpers, intending to remove the arms; but it was too late, no trace could be found of either weapons or cave. They say an exactly similar case of weapons being hid in a cave, or rather rocky fissure, by means of thesian, occurred on the shores of Loch Maree. The spot is at the edge of the loch below the county road on the south-west side of the loch just opposite to Letterewe. In this case also the weapons are visible once in every seven years.
There was a man living in Gairloch named Alastair Mor an 't Sealgair, or "big Alexander of [the race of] the hunter." He had the magic power of the sian. He died since 1850, and his grandsons were lately living at Charleston, and were calledGillean an t' Sealgair, or "the hunter's lads." One of them is still living at Charleston. Alastair was a dealer in illicit whisky, and was constantly employed in running cargoes of it from Gairloch to Skye and the Long Island. He is still remembered in those islands. At that time Captain Oliver was sent by the government to put down this smuggling. In his schooner he cruised up and down the Minch, keeping a sharp look-out; he had a tender, a smaller vessel, of which Robert Clark was master, and which was employed in the sea-lochs, so that Gairloch might well be said to be blockaded. Alastair continually ran the blockade by the use of the sian. Whenever a government vessel hove in sight, he pronounced the magic words and applied his unfailing amulet, and his boat became at once invisible under the mysterious spell. One day he had brought several casks of whisky in a boat down Loch Maree. When in the Narrows near the place where Tollie burn falls into the river Ewe, he landed and hid the casks in the wood on the Tollie side of the Narrows. He made some passes over them with his hands, and the casks became invisible; the next day he sent over from Gairloch the men who had seen him hide the casks, to bring them away, but they could not be found, and it was not until Alastair went himself that the casks became visible. This was a usual form of thesian, but Alastair had another spell or magical process which was a variation of its ordinary application. Sometimes when a revenue vessel appeared upon the scene he would take a thole-pin from the boat and whittle it with his knife, when each of the chips as it fell into the water would appear to the crew of the preventive vessel to be a fully-manned boat. This wonderful magician was well-known to many people now living, including Mr O. H. Mackenzie. There are many other stories current in Gairloch, showing that Alastair could render his boat, or indeed anything else, invisible, even without the use of any special formula. There were three fishermen, named respectively Macpherson, Watson, and Fraser, all living on the south side of Gairloch, who were partners in a large decked fishing-boat. At that time GlenDubh, to the north of Stoir Head in Sutherlandshire, was an important herring fishing-station. The "south side" men were there fishing. Alastair was also at GlenDubh, selling whisky amongst the fishermen. His boat was an open undecked craft, and the Gairloch south side men had him to spend the Sabbath in their larger vessel. On Sunday morning Alastair proposed to fill some bottles with whisky out of a small cask that he carried for offering drams to friends. As he and Macpherson were beginning to draw the whisky from the cask, Alastair asked his companion if he saw the revenue cutter. Macpherson said her boat was just coming round a headland near them. Alastair said, "They don't see us." He proceeded with the business on hand; they were on deck. As the cutter's boat approached, Macpherson wished to put the whisky cask out of sight. Alastair said, "Never fear; they cannotsee us." The revenue boat then passed close to them, and apparently did not see them. Had the preventive men seen Alastair before he saw them, he would have been unable to render the boat invisible. At another time, the same "south side" men had a good take of flounders in the sound between the Island of Longa and Big Sand. They had occasion to take their fish ashore at Big Sand, and having piled them in a heap left them for a short time; on returning they could not see their fish anywhere. Alastair was there, and they concluded he had played a trick upon them. After keeping up the joke some time, Alastair admitted that he had concealed the fish. He drew a ring on the sand with his stick, and said, "The fish are within this circle." The fishermen could not find them, until Alastair withdrew the spell and the fish became visible.
His father,Ruaridh an t' Sealgair, also had the magical power of the sian. Both Rorie and Alastair were—like their ancestor whosesoubriquetthey bore—great hunters and poachers. When they wanted venison they would go to the mountains. As soon as they saw a deer they would, by the exercise of magic, cause the animal to stand or to go where they pleased, so that they could easily get within range. If the deer saw the magician first, the spell failed; it was necessary that the hunter should spy his quarry before he was himself observed. Instances of Alastair's exercise of this power are said to have occurred during the time of the late Sir Francis Mackenzie, Bart. of Gairloch. They say too that Alastair, when sitting at the roadside, could by thesianrender himself invisible to persons who passed close to him.
Our next and last example is of a different application of magic. Every detail of the case is firmly believed by many natives of Gairloch now living to be absolutely true. In the chapter of James Mackenzie's "Gairloch Stories," given further on, is an account of the death by drowning at the head of Loch Maree of John M'Ryrie. His grandfather was the hero of the following adventure. At the time of its occurrence he had a large open boat, in which he used to carry the mails between Poolewe and Stornoway. He lived at Poolewe. One Donald M'Lean helped to work the boat. It was before the smack was put on this service. On one occasion M'Ryrie was kept several days at Stornoway by a contrary wind. He was going about the place two or three days grumbling at the delay. He met a man in the street, who advised him to go to a certain woman and she would make the wind favourable for him. In the morning he went to her, and paid her some money. She gave him a piece of string with three knots on it. She told him to undo the first of the knots, and he would get the wind in his favour; if the wind were not strong enough for him, he was to undo the second knot, but not until he would be near the mainland; the third knot, she said, he must not untie for his life. The wind changed whilst he was talking to her; and he set sail that same morning. He undid the first knot on the voyage, and the breeze continued fair; the second knot he untied when he was near the mouth of Loch Ewe, and the breeze came fresh and strong. When he got to Ploc-ard, at the head ofLoch Ewe, he said to M'Lean that no great harm could happen to them if he were to untie the third knot, as they were so near the shore. So he untied the third knot. Instantly there was such a hurricane that most of the houses in Poolewe and Londubh were stripped of their thatch. The boat was cast high and dry on the beach at Dal Cruaidh, just below the house of Kirkton; her crew escaped uninjured. It is said that at that time there were several women about Stornoway who had power by their arts to make the wind favourable.
Perhapsthe most common class of superstitions in Gairloch comprises those represented by or connected with "visions" or the gift of "second-sight." It is often difficult to discriminate between the two; but as a general rule "visions" maybe considered as recalling the past, whilst "second-sight" brings the immediate but unseen present or the near or sometimes the more remote future within the ken of its possessor. The following stories seem to be examples of one or other of these superstitions.
The appearance to AlastairMac Iain Mhic Earchair, early in the nineteenth century, of the great chief of Gairloch, Hector Roy Mackenzie, with his bodyguard of twelve chosen heroes all wearing kilted plaids of Mackenzie tartan, and their noiseless departure, is narrated inPart I., chap. ix. In addition to the details there given, old Alastair told Ruaridh an Torra, the present repository of the tale, that before the spectral heroes disappeared he handed his snuff-mull to them, and they each in turn helped themselves to its contents. Alastair always expressed his astonishment that they should have been able to enjoy the snuff as they apparently did.
In 1884 I heard of a young man having seen a spirit. He was very reserved on the subject, but when closely questioned he said it was on a pretty dark night in the previous year that the form of a man passed him on the road. He spoke to the figure, but there was no reply; and this he considered proof positive of the ghostly nature of the appearance!
Two men, of the utmost credibility and respectability, declare that they saw on separate occasions, by daylight, the figure of a woman dressed in brown sitting or walking within a considerable house in Gairloch parish. On each occasion the woman mysteriously disappeared, and no trace of her could be discovered. The appearances were supposed to be prophetic of some incident that has since occurred, or will shortly occur, at the house in question.
Seers of visions and possessors of second-sight are always reticent, and every one has a delicacy in speaking of cases that have occurred among persons now living. Thus it is difficult to procure accounts of recent cases, and I have thought it best not to pressinquiry in this direction. Here, however, is an instance which came under my own notice within the parish of Gairloch. A shooting party was invited, and a number of beaters engaged for the occasion. Several of those who had been similarly employed before declined to attend, because it had been rumoured that the figure of a strange man dressed in dark blue clothes had been seen walking in the coverts the evening before, and it was thought that the appearance of the supposed spectre portended the death of some one at the shoot. Happily the day passed off without casualty.
Second-sight may be (1) a faculty frequently exercised by the individual possessing it, who becomes known as a seer; or (2) it may be manifested on one occasion only, under exceptional circumstances, by some one not otherwise credited with this supernatural power. Our next story tells of a woman whose second-sight was of the first of these descriptions.
Simon Chisholm, who has long been forester and gardener at Flowerdale to Sir Kenneth Mackenzie, Bart. of Gairloch, remembers a woman namedSeonaid Chrubach, or Jessie the cripple, who was reputed to be a witch, and to have the faculty of second-sight. She lived near Flowerdale, and was a queer bad woman. She wore a short tight-fitting jacket like a man, and a short petticoat resembling a man's kilt. She used to afford much amusement to sailors, singing ribald songs to them, and would visit various ports as far north as Ullapool for the purpose. When Simon Chisholm was a young boy a number of lads one day caught Jessie, and, believing in her witchcraft, tied her to the middle of a long piece of rope. They took her to the moat or ditch then remaining below Flowerdale House, in the midst of which the oldTigh Digehad formerly stood, and dragged her many times backwards and forwards through the water of the moat. Jessie survived this ill-treatment many years. It would be about 1835 that Jessie came one day to the house of Simon Chisholm's father at Flowerdale. His family have been there for several generations; they say his ancestor came to Gairloch as attendant to a lady who became the wife of one of the lairds of Gairloch. Simon was still a boy, and was at home when Jessie came to the house. Jessie looked very pale and haggard; she said she felt faint and ill. After resting a while, she told them that on her way she had met a shepherd with his dog, driving a flock of sheep; she minutely described the shepherd and the dog and sheep, and even stated the colour of the dog. At that time there were no sheep at Flowerdale, only black cattle; Sir Francis Mackenzie, the then baronet of Gairloch, had a celebrated strain of them, and bred them in considerable numbers. The following year, at the same time of the year as that at which Jessie had seen the vision, Sir Francis substituted sheep for the black cattle, and the shepherd, the dog, and the sheep exactly corresponded with Jessie's description.
Our next narrative is an illustration of the other class of manifestations of second-sight. At the date of this story the blacksmith at Poolewe had his house and smithy where the Pool-house stable now stands. It was close by the east side of Poolewe bridge,from which the spectator can look down into the deep gloomy pool in which the River Ewe joins the brackish waters of Loch Ewe. The smith had a son, a boy, almost a young man; he was in sickly health at the time, and died shortly afterwards. The late Rev. William Rose, Free Church minister of Aultbea and Poolewe, who died in April 1876, told me that one day the smith's son had walked over to Gairloch, and returning somewhat exhausted, came into his father's house (the door being open), and instantly sat down on the nearest chair. No sooner was he seated than he fell from the chair in a fainting fit. He presently came round, and on recovering consciousness the first thing he said to his family was, "What are all these people on the bridge for?" They pointed out to him that there was no one on the bridge. He then told them, that as he had approached the bridge he had seen it crowded with people, that he had had to push his way through them, and that he had felt very much frightened. Those members of the smith's household who were at home had seen no one on the bridge; the doors and windows of the house faced the bridge, and were not thirty yards from it, so that no individuals, much less a crowd, could have been on the bridge without the family having noticed them. The following day, the 3d October 1860, was a day that will never be forgotten by those who witnessed its terrible events. A number of open boats with their crews were at the head of Loch Ewe near Boor, Cliff House, and Poolewe, setting nets for herrings, when a storm suddenly came on, far exceeding in violence any other storm before or since, so far as those now living remember. A hurricane sprang up from the west-north-west, of such extraordinary force as actually to lift boats and their crews from the water, and in one or two cases to overturn the boats. Happily most of the men clung to their boats, and were soon washed ashore. One boat was carried rapidly past the point called Ploc-ard, by Inverewe House. As she was passing close to some big stones one of her crew jumped out on to a rock, but was washed off and drowned. In another boat, opposite Cliff House, there were four men; the boat was capsized and three of the men were drowned; the fourth had tied himself to the boat, which came ashore by Cliff House; he was taken to the house, and restoratives being applied soon recovered. About a score of the boats ran into the pool under Poolewe bridge. And thus the vision of the smith's son was fulfilled, for at the very hour at which he had crossed the bridge on the preceding day, a multitude of the fishermen's friends and relations, breathless with agonising anxiety, crowded the bridge and its approaches watching the arrival of the boats. The tide on this awful evening rose one hundred and fifty yards further up the shore and adjoining lands than on any other occasion remembered in the district. The bodies of the drowned men were recovered, and were buried in the Inverewe churchyard, where the date of this memorable storm is recorded on a gravestone over the remains of two of the men named William Urquhart and Donald Urquhart.
James Mackenzie narrates, that when he was fourteen years ofage (about 1822) he lived with his parents at Mellon Charles, but went to the school at Mellon Udrigil. This school was attended by about sixty scholars. He went home to Mellon Charles every Saturday night, and returned to Mellon Udrigil each Monday morning. At the time of the following extraordinary occurrence the Rev. Dr Ross was holding sacramental services at Loch Broom, and many of the people had gone from Mellon Udrigil to this sacrament; most of the women had remained at home. It must have been about midsummer; that was always the time of the Loch Broom sacrament. When James Mackenzie returned to Mellon Udrigil on the Monday morning he learned that all the people who were at home on the preceding day had seen a strange sight. The whole sea between the Black island and Priest island, and the mouth of Little Loch Broom had appeared to be filled with ships innumerable; to use James Mackenzie's precise words, "the sea was choke full of great ships, men-of-war. It was a great sight." Whilst the people were watching, vast numbers of boats were sent out from the ships filled with soldiers with scarlet coats. Many of the boats rowed direct for Mellon Udrigil, and the red-coats landed from them on the rocks on the shore. They seemed so near that the people could make out the individual soldiers. Mrs Morrison, the wife of Rorie Morrison of Tanera, who then lived at Mellon Udrigil House, buried the boxes containing her valuables in the sand lest the red-coats should carry them off to the ships. The girls at the shielings on the hills on the Greenstone Point retreated to the highest tops, so that they might have time to escape if the soldiers should appear to be coming near. But no soldiers came, and the whole thing was a vision.
More than fifty years agoDonnachadh na Fadach(Duncan Macrae) was living at Inveran. He employed Donald Maclean, who was stopping at Londubh at the time, to work in the garden at Inveran, and Donald walked to and from Inveran every day. He told James Mackenzie, Duncan Macrae, and other persons, that he often saw companies of soldiers in red uniforms marching to and fro along the tops ofCraig Ruadh,Craig Bhan, and the hills behind and beyond Inveran. These visions of Donald Maclean's are said to have impressed his own mind very deeply at the time, and his earnest accounts of them are well remembered by the older people. It is an actual fact that the visions are now generally understood at Poolewe andLondubhto have been prophetic of the visits to me at Inveran of the Poolewe section of the Gairloch volunteers, who wear scarlet Highland doublets, and have several times come to Inveran in uniform.
The appearance of the great fleet seen from Mellon Udrigil with the boats filled with red-coats, and the visions of the red-coats near Inveran, are closely analogous to the strange appearances of troops seen by numbers of people on Saddleback in Cumberland on the midsummer eves of 1735, 1743, and 1745, and to the similar appearances elsewhere referred to in the account given of the Saddleback visions in Miss Harriet Martineau's "Guide to theEnglish Lakes," such as the spectral march of troops seen in Leicestershire in 1707, and the tradition of the tramp of armies over Helvellyn on the eve of the battle of Marston Moor. Hugh Miller, in his "Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland" (page 485), refers to visions of troops near Inverness at the time of the commencement of the war with France. There were similar appearances in England reported in the newspapers when I was a young man, which were supposed to have been mirage-like reflections of the gatherings of troops going to take part in the Crimean war. One theory is, that all the visions of this character have been of the nature of mirages, or reflections on transparent vapour similar to the "Fata Morgana." This is certainly a suggestion that ought to be taken into account, but, as Miss Harriet Martineau says in her book, it "is not much in the way of explanation."
Whatever the visions or appearances at Mellon Udrigil and near Inveran may have been, the evidence is very strong that they really were seen as stated.
TheCeltic inhabitants of the north-west Highlands have always been enthusiastic votaries of poetry and music; indeed in time past they perhaps paid more attention to these than to the less sentimental arts of everyday life. Their bards and musicians, encouraged by the sympathy and appreciation of chiefs and clansmen alike, became an illustrious, as they ever were a privileged class.
The bards date back to the days of the Druids; among them was Ossian, the Homer of the Fingalian heroes. There is no specific connection between the Ossianic poems and the parish of Gairloch, but these poems are still reverenced in Gairloch, and some traces of poetic Fingalian legends are still to be met with (Part I., chap. i.).
The great contest which has so long raged over Macpherson's "Ossian" does not concern us here. The unwritten poems of Ossian have been handed down by the bards through many generations. Possibly Macpherson's were partly fictitious; they do not correspond to the actual traditional forms of the poems, as published by Mr John F. Campbell of Islay (brother of the present Lady Mackenzie of Gairloch), who has passed to his rest whilst I write; he took down the poems from the mouths of the old men who had become the receptacles of them, and collected them in a book entitled "Leabhar na Feinne," perhaps the most valuable contribution to the Ossianic controversy.
The bard of old was called the "seannachie," properly "seannachaidh,"—almost synonymous with "antiquarian" or "historian,"—a name appropriately signifying that he was the repository and remembrancer of the history, achievements, and genealogy of his clan or sept. It was the bard's office to sing or recite the valorous deeds ofthe chiefs and heroes, and to cheer on his kinsmen in battle by inspiring songs or war cries, chaunted, shouted, or sung.
Later on, when clan contests became less frequent, some of the bards found congenial berths as family retainers of the great chiefs and proprietors, who generously rewarded their poetic talents. These family bards recited or sang in the halls of their patrons songs of their own or others' composition, and frequently repeated some of the poems of Ossian. They were also the poets-laureate of the great families, composing poems to celebrate their chief events and personages.
Captain Burt gives a list of the officers who in his day (1730) attended every chief when he went a journey or paid a formal visit. Among them are the bard, the piper, and the piper's gillie. The last bard of the Gairloch family was Alexander Campbell, who died in the first half of the present century. A short memoir of him is given further on.
Other bards and poets were found in the more private walks of life, and they are even now to be met with, still the receptacles of the treasured traditions and legends of their ancestors and country, still the composers of Gaelic songs and poems, and still the reciters or singers of their own compositions or of those of other bards, ancient or modern. Family traditions and genealogies possess more historical value in the Highlands than in other parts of Britain, from their having been preserved and handed down by means of the trained memories of the bards. In most cases, every word put in the mouths of the traditional heroes is accurately repeated on each occasion of the story being told.
Meetings, called "ceilidh," used to be frequently held during the long winter nights of this northern region, when the people gathered in each others' houses to be entertained by songs, poems, traditions, legends, and tales of all kinds. At the "ceilidh" the bards, in their character of "seannachaidhean," were in much request, and we can well imagine how the popular applause fostered the spirit of the bards and helped to preserve the old traditions of the Highlands. They say these "ceilidh" are not yet altogether given up in Gairloch parish.
Pipe music dates back at least as far as the fourteenth century, and probably much farther. Mr Robertson Macdonald of Kinloch-moidart wrote to theScotsmana few years ago, stating that he had the chanter and blowpipe of bagpipes which he believed to be older than a bagpipe reported at a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland to bear the date of 1409. Mr Macdonald's relics were given in the end of last century to his maternal uncle, Donald Macdonald of Kinloch-moidart, by the Macintyres, who were the hereditary pipers to the Clanranald branch of the Macdonalds, as they were on the point of emigrating to America; they said the Macdonalds had followed the inspiring strains of these bagpipes into the battle of Bannockburn, 24th June 1314.
The vocation of the pipers, who had gradually displaced the more ancient harpers, corresponded very closely with that of the bards.Like the bards, they accompanied their clansmen to battle. On all social occasions they played their stately pibrochs, or thrilling marches, or lively reels and jigs; weddings and funerals were always attended by pipers, who moved the assembled companies with their stirring strains. Most of the chiefs had their family pipers, and the office was often hereditary. The Mackays were the hereditary pipers of the lairds of Gairloch (seenext chapter) during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and were well rewarded by their patrons. The MacCrimmons of Dunvegan, Skye, were the great teachers of pipe music in the north up to a recent period; they held their lands from Macleod of Macleod, in return for their attendance on his person and family.
In these modern days pipers are still numerous in Gairloch, and still enliven many a wedding party with their music. The Gairloch volunteers have their efficient pipers, who in tartan array play many a lively air as their comrades move in column, and who accompany the march-past on review days to the favourite tune of "Highland Laddie." Highlanders march with lighter tread, more spirited step, and more accurate time, to the music of the bagpipes than to any other.
The strains of the great Highland bagpipes, when played indoors, often sound harsh and shrill to the unaccustomed ear, but they never do to the Highlander, who to this day prefers the pipes to all other music. Their effect on the Highland soldier, in the presence of the foe, is too well known to need description here.
The love of pipe music, and of songs in their native tongue, is as powerful to-day with the Highlanders of Gairloch as it can ever have been. At a dinner of the Gairloch volunteers, on 8th May 1884, the thrilling music of the pipers, and the Gaelic songs exquisitely rendered by Mr Alexander Macpherson of Opinan, one of the volunteer sergeants, seemed to arouse the enthusiasm and stir the feelings of all present to an extent it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to effect by any other means.
Some of the bards and pipers of Gairloch attained great eminence. Amongst the memoirs of them which follow is a short account of John Mackenzie, the author of the "Beauties of Gaelic Poetry," who was himself somewhat of a poet, and an excellent piper.
There were many less eminent bards and pipers in Gairloch. Three of the old bards are mentioned in Part I. of this book, viz., Ruaridh Breac, "the English bard," and Duncan M'Rae.
Ruaridh Breac, son of fair Duncan, lived at Cromasaig, near Kenlochewe, in the first half of the seventeenth century. He composed a celebrated song to the "Guard of the Black Corrie."
The English bard called in Gaelic "Am Bard Sasunnach," was a Cross, son or descendant of one of the Letterewe ironworkers. He was living at the time of the "Forty-five" at a house he had built at Kernsary, called to this dayInnis a Bhaird, or the "place of the bard."
Duncan M'Rae, of Isle Ewe, mentioned inPart II., chap. xiv., as the composer of "Oran na Feannaige," was also a bard.
Of past Gairloch pipers, other than the Mackays, I have no account, except of three who belong to recent times.
Roderick Campbell, a celebrated piper and fiddler, lived atCuilchonich, above Aird House, near Aultbea, in the latter part of the eighteenth century.Ruaridh Mac Iamhair, as he was called in Gaelic, was descended from the Campbells of Leckmelm, on Lochbroom. His father was Norman Campbell; he had four sons, viz., Kenneth, Donald, Roderick (the piper), and John. Donald was also a great fiddler. John Mackenzie (Iain or John Glas) of Mossbank, Poolewe, is a grandson of Kenneth. John, the youngest brother of Roderick, emigrated to America. Roderick was a pupil of Angus Mackay (one of the Gairloch hereditary pipers), and it is said that Roderick made such progress, that when his term of apprenticeship to Angus had but half expired he had learned all that his accomplished master could impart. Roderick attained great fame as a piper, and was much respected through the country for his talents and agreeable manners. He lived in a day when the young men laid themselves out to amuse and interest others. While still young he was drowned in the OldCruivePool, on the River Ewe, when attempting to cross the river by means of theCruivedyke, there being no bridge at Poolewe till long after. The musical reputation of the family is sustained by Alexander Mackenzie, the present senior piper of the Gairloch volunteers, who is the son of John Glas above-named.
Iain Mac Coinnich(John Mackenzie), known asPiobaire Bhan, or the "fair piper," was a first-rate performer during the present century. He lived atLeac nan Saighead, and was blind. He died about 1870, an old man.
William Maclean, formerly of Ormiscaig, must be reckoned as a past piper of Gairloch; the excellent music he discoursed is still remembered; the origin of his talents is related inPart II., chap. xii.
The following is an alphabetical list (probably imperfect) of Gairloch pipers now living:—
ThatHector Roy Mackenzie, the great founder of the Gairloch family, and his son John Glassich Mackenzie, had pipers among their followers is certain; but nothing is recorded of them. The famous hereditary pipers of the Gairloch family were Mackays from Sutherlandshire. There were but four of them, viz., Rorie, John the blind piper, Angus, and John.
Rorie orRuaridhMackay was born in the Reay country about 1592. Having early manifested an extraordinary talent for pipe music, he was appointed whilst little more than a boy to be piper to the laird of Mackay. We have seen (Part I., chap. xi.) how Rorie cut off a groom's hand with his dirk at the Meikle Ferry on the Kyle of Sutherland, and then became piper to John Roy Mackenzie, fourth laird of Gairloch, about 1609. From this time Rorie was a Gairloch man, yet the connection with the Reay country was maintained, as we shall see, by his descendants. Little is remembered of Rorie beyond the story of how he came to Gairloch. It was his elder brother Donald Mor Mackay who was in attendance on the twelve sons of John Roy Mackenzie when the incident at Torridon, recorded inPart I., chap. xi., took place. Donald was a great piper, and assisted his brother Rorie during his youth. Donald spent a number of years in Gairloch, but returned to the Reay country before his death. Rorie was piper in succession to four of the chiefs of Gairloch, viz., John Roy, Alastair Breac, Kenneth the sixth laird, and his son Alexander. Rorie lived at Talladale during the lives of John Roy and Alastair Breac, who resided onEilean RuaridhandEilean Suainne, islands in Loch Maree, not far from Talladale. The two last chiefs to whom he was piper resided at the Stank house at Flowerdale, and accordingly we find that Rorie lived in his later years near Flowerdale. Rorie was over sixty years of age when he married; he had but one child, who became the celebrated "blind piper." Rorie died at his home near Flowerdale about 1689, in extreme old age, being, like his son, almost a centenarian; he was buried in the Gairloch churchyard. Rorie is said to have been a remarkably handsome and powerful Highlander; he literallyplayedan important part in the many fights which took place in Gairloch during the earlier part of his career.
John Mackay, the only son of Rorie, was born at Talladale in 1656. He was not born blind, as has been erroneously stated, but was deprived of his sight by smallpox when about seven years old. With the exception of a slight cloudiness on his eyes, it was difficult to the most acute observer to perceive that he had not his sight. He was known as "Iain Dall" (blind John), or "Piobaire Dall" (the blind piper). After mastering the first principles of pipe music under his father's tuition, he was sent to the celebrated MacCrimmon in Skye to finish his musical education. He remained seven yearswith MacCrimmon, and then returned to his native parish, where he assisted his father in his office of piper to the laird of Gairloch. After his father's death he became piper to Sir Kenneth Mackenzie, the first baronet of Gairloch; and after Sir Kenneth's death to his son Sir Alexander, the second baronet and ninth laird of Gairloch. He combined the office of bard with that of piper.Iain Dallretired when in advanced years, and Sir Alexander allowed him a sufficient pension. Like his father he married late in life; he had but two children, Angus, who succeeded him, and a daughter. After he was superannuated he passed his remaining years in visiting gentlemen's houses, where he was always a welcome guest. Like his father he lived to a great age; he died in 1754, aged ninety-eight, and was buried in the same grave as his father in the Gairloch churchyard. He composed twenty-four pibrochs, besides numberless strathspeys, reels, and jigs, the most celebrated of which are called "Cailleach a Mhuillear," and "Cailleach Liath Rasaidh."
When he was with MacCrimmon there were no fewer than eleven other apprentices studying with the master piper, but Iain Dall outstripped them all, and thus gained for himself the envy and ill-will of the others. On one occasion as Iain and another apprentice were playing the same tune alternately, MacCrimmon asked the other lad why he did not play likeIain Dall. The lad replied, "By Mary, I'd do so if my fingers had not been after the skate," alluding to the sticky state of his fingers after having touched some of that fish at dinner; and this has become a proverbial taunt which northern pipers to this day hurl at their inferior brethren from the south.
Iain Dall's first pibroch, called "Pronadh na Mial," had reference to certain small insects that disturbed his slumbers during the earlier period of his apprenticeship.
One of the MacCrimmons, known by the byname of "Padruig Caogach," composed the first part of a tune called "Am port Leathach," but was unable to finish it. The imperfect tune became very popular, and being at the end of two years still unfinishedIain Dallset to work and completed it. He called it "Lasan Phadruig Chaogaich," or "the wrath ofPadruig Caogach;" thus, whilst disowning any share in the merit of the composition, anticipating the result which would follow. Patrick was furiously incensed, and bribed the other apprentices, who were doubtless themselves also inflamed by jealousy, to put an end toIain Dall's life. This they attempted while walking with him atDun-Bhorraraig, where they threw the young blind piper over a precipice.Iain Dallfell eight yards, but alighted on the soles of his feet, and suffered no material injury. The place is still called "Leum an Doill." The completion of MacCrimmon's tune brought great fame toIain Dall, and gave rise to a well-known Gaelic proverb, which being translated says, "the apprentice outwits the master."
Iain Dall made a number of celebrated Gaelic songs and poems. One of them, called "Coire an Easain," was composed on the death of Mackay Lord Reay. It is said not to be surpassed in the Gaeliclanguage. Another fine poem of his was in praise of Lady Janet Mackenzie of Scatwell, on her becoming the wife of Sir Alexander the ninth laird of Gairloch. His fame as a bard and poet seems to have almost equalled his reputation as a piper. A number of his songs and poems appear in the "Beauties of Gaelic Poetry."
Angus, the only son of "Iain Dall," succeeded his illustrious father as piper to the lairds of Gairloch. He was born about 1725. He was piper to Sir Alexander Mackenzie, tenth laird of Gairloch. When Sir Alexander visited France as a young man, he left Angus for tuition in Edinburgh. We know little of him beyond that he was a handsome man, and that he at least equalled his ancestors in musical attainments. He married Mary Fraser, daughter of William Fraser, of Gairloch. He attended a competition in pipe music whilst in Edinburgh. The other competing pipers, jealous of his superior talents, made a plot to destroy his chance. The day before the competition they got possession of his pipes, and pierced the bag in several places, so that when he began to practise he could not keep the wind in the pipes. But Angus had a fair friend named Mary, possibly his wife. To her he went in his trouble; she found for him a sheepskin from which, undressed as it was, he formed a new bag for his beloved pipes, and with this crude bag he succeeded next day in carrying off the coveted prize. He composed the well-known pibroch called "Moladh Mairi," or "the praise of Mary," in honour of his kind helper. This anecdote is sometimes connected with one of the other Mackay pipers. Angus lived to a good old age, and was succeeded by his son John.
John Mackay, grandson of the "blind piper," was born about 1753, and became on his father's death family piper to Sir Hector Mackenzie of Gairloch. As a young man he went to the Reay country, the native land of his great-grandfather Rorie, and there received tuition on the little pipes, which are often used for dance music. He lived in the latter part of his career in Gairloch at Slatadale, where he married and had a numerous family, for whose advancement he emigrated to America with all his children except one daughter. She had previously married, but her father was so anxious that she should emigrate with the rest of the family, that she had to hide herself the night before the family left Gairloch in order to avoid being compelled to accompany them. John Mackay was a splendid piper; when he went to America, Sir Hector said he would never care to hear pipe music again. John prospered in America; he died at Picton about 1835, over eighty years of age. One of his sons, who was a stipendiary magistrate in Nova Scotia, died in the time of harvest 1884. The daughter who remained in Gairloch was married to a Maclean; their son, John Maclean of Strath, called in Gaelic "Iain Buidhe Taillear," has supplied much of the information here given regarding his ancestors, the hereditary pipers of the Gairloch family.
It is a singular fact that the four long-lived Mackays were pipers to the lairds of Gairloch during almost exactly two centuries, during which there were eight lairds of Gairloch in regular succession from father to son, but only the four pipers.
Twoof the older bards of Gairloch deserve a chapter to themselves.
William Mackenzie, the Gairloch and Loch Broom catechist, was commonly called "An Ceistear Crubach," or "the lame catechist," owing to his being lame of a leg. He was a native of the parish of Gairloch, and was born about 1670. He seems to have been a poet of no mean order. In his early years he had the reputation of being a serious young man; he committed to memory the Shorter Catechism in Gaelic, and was afterwards for seven years employed in the capacity of perambulatory catechist at a small salary. On one occasion in the dead of winter a tremendous storm overtook him, and he was driven to seek the shelter of a rock. He was fortunately discovered, and conveyed on horseback to the house of Mr Mackenzie of Balone, where he experienced the greatest kindness. Here he saw a beautiful young lady, his host's sister, who afterwards became Mrs Mackenzie of Kernsary, and, inspired by her charms, he composed a celebrated song of great poetic merit.
He happened to be in Strath, Gairloch, at the time of a wedding, to which however he was not invited. Being joined by some others who had suffered the same indignity, and who brought a bottle of whisky with them, he forgot the sacredness of his office, and as the glass went round composed a satirical song lampooning the newly-married couple and their relations and guests. The song eked out. The ministers shook their heads, and condemned the profanity of their catechist from their pulpits. He was dragged before the kirk-session and severely cross-examined. One or two of his judges espoused his cause, and insisted that he should recite the obnoxious song. "I can repeat no song," said the bard, "unless I accompany the words with an air, and to sing here would be altogether unbecoming." This obstacle was, however, got over, and Mackenzie sang the song with great glee, while his judges could not restrain their laughter. However he was dismissed from being catechist, and was never restored to the post. He died at a good old age, and was buried in Creagan an Inver of Meikle Gruinard, on the northern confines of the parish of Gairloch.
Malcolm M'Lean, called "Callum a Ghlinne," or "Callum of the glen," was a native of Kenlochewe. His reputation as a bard rests entirely on a celebrated song he composed in praise of his own daughter. It is the only example of his genius now extant. He was fond of singing the songs of other poets, and had an excellent voice. As a young man he enlisted in the army, and after serving a number of years was allowed a small pension on his discharge. He became a crofter in his native country, and married a woman of exemplary patience and resignation. He is described as a bacchanalian of the first magnitude, and by his intemperance reduced hiswife and daughter to miserable poverty. The daughter, his only child, was of uncommon beauty, but for want of dowry was for a long time unwooed and unmarried. In his later years his drinking habits became more notorious than ever, and when he was seen approaching an inn the local topers left their work and trooped about him. No wonder the resignation of his poor wife, under such circumstances, is proverbial in Gairloch. He died about the year 1764.
Professor Blackie has made a spirited translation of Malcolm Maclean's song, which with the Professor's kind consent is given below.
The forgiving gentleness of Malcolm's wife is recorded in the following story:—Malcolm had occasion to go to Dingwall on a summer day for a boll of oatmeal; he took a grey horse with him. On his way, with just enough cash in his pocket to pay for the meal, he entered an inn, where he met a Badenoch drover, who proved to be a boon companion. The two continued drinking together for some time; the bard at length spent the last sixpence of his meal money. Thinking, no doubt, of the awkwardness of returning without the meal, he remarked, "If I had more money, I would not go home for some time yet." "That's easily got; I'll buy the grey horse from you," replied the drover. The bargain was speedily concluded, and the money paid. The well-seasoned poet continued the "spree," until at length the price of the grey horse was gone too. "Now," said he, "I must go." "But how," said the drover, "can you face your wife?" "My wife!" said the poet, "she's the woman that never said, nor will say worse to me than 'God bless you, Malcolm.'" "I'll bet you the price of the horse and the meal," replied the drover, "that her greeting will be very different." "Done!" eagerly shouted Malcolm, grasping the other's hand. Away they went, with the landlord and two other men to witness the bard's reception by his wife. He staggered into his dwelling, where he would have fallen into the open fire, had not his wife caught him in her arms, exclaiming, "God bless you, Malcolm." "But I have neither brought meal nor money," said the bard. "We will soon get more money and meal too," replied the wife. "But I have also drunk the grey horse," said he. "What matter, my love," she said, "since you are alive and well." It was enough: the drover had to count down the money; and it was not long before the patient wife had the satisfaction of hailing her husband's return with both horse and meal.