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article... Of late
years, and even this present season, much has been written about this
interesting Island by tourists and others; yet there are many relics,
legends, and subjects of folk-lore connected with the far-famed “Isle of
Mist” which have not as yet been fully developed. Such learned and
enthusiastic gentlemen as the late Alexander Smith, Sheriff Nicolson of
Kirkcudbright, and others, have given vivid descriptions of the
unrivalled scenery of this remarkable island; yet still much remains to
be explored and detailed as to the origin, history, and antiquity of the
numberless dims or forts which once surrounded and protected it. With
each and all of these romantic places of defence there is a history
connected, and where that history is not reliable and confirmed by
facts, the blank is amply supplied by fanciful but interesting legends,
handed down from ancient days by tradition, and fostered by the natural
feelings and superstitious beliefs of the natives.
How well if the talented “Nether-Lochaber” were located even for a month
in this interesting isle, to enjoy the pure hospitality and friendship
of its proverbially kind inhabitants. Howawell were he to roam freely
amid its peaked mountains and shaded valleys, to visit its dims and
strongholds, and its variegated natural curiosities, and withal to make
his magic pen bear upon its archaeological stores and its numberless
specimens of interesting folk-lore. My learned friend would feel no
ordinary interest in handling, if not in wrapping himself in, the Fairy
Flag preserved in Dunvegan Castle. This mystic flag is the palladium of
the Macleod chiefs, and if tradition be true, the fortunes of that brave
clan depend upon it. Miraculous properties were given to the celebrated
banner by a Saracen chief, who presented it to one of the Macleods, or “
Sidl Tormaid,” during the Crusades, with an assurance that so long as it
was preserved, no injury would befall the family.
Skye is a lovely isle! Perhaps no other locality in the United Kingdom
is so well calculated to afford such a number of romantic and
picturesque subjects for the brush of the painter, yet it may be said
with equal truth, that there is no other region in our dominions so sure
to furnish the pen of the archaeologist with more befitting materials
than this winged, misty isle.
Speaking of duns and forts, there were three in the island which
surpassed all others in their strong and almost impregnable defensive
fortifications. These were Dunskaich, in the parish of Sleat (a fort
alluded to by Ossian), and Duntulm Castle, in the parish of Kilmuir,
both of which are now in complete ruins; and the third was Dunvegan
Castle, in the parish of Duirinish, which is still inhabited by the
Macleods of Macleod. These forts were almost impregnable, having been
provided with wide moats and strong drawbridges, and all the implements
of warfare used in these remote and warlike times. Duntulm was the
stronghold of the Lords of the Isles, the powerful “Clann Ddmhnuill,”
before they removed to Monkstadt, and Armadale Castle in the parish of
Sleat. In the same way Dunvegan Castle was the stronghold of “Clann
Tormaid,” that is the Macleods of Macleod, who were likewise great
warriors and very powerful as a clan. These two septs or clans had
extensive
possessions and stedfast retainers. They never wanted their distinctive
race of pipers and bards. The Macdonalds had the Macarthurs for ages in
this capacity, while the Macleods of Dunvegan had the far-famed
MacCrimmons for a long succession of centuries. Bloody feuds existed
very frequently between these rebellious clans as well as between them
and the surrounding chiefs on the mainland, such as the Mackenzies, the
Macleans, the Macdonalds of Clanranald, and many others.
Some centuries ago one of the chieftains of Sleat had a daughter married
to Macleod of Dunvegan, but unfortunately they did not live happily
together. On one occasion the quarrel betwixt husband and wife became so
desperate, that Macleod sent her home to her father, when the father in
return sent her back to her husband. Much about this time a number of
Highland chiefs met at Dunvegan Castle to hold a sort of council with
Macleod relative to some feudal differences. There were present
Macdonald of the Isles, Mackinnon of Strathswordale, Maclean of Duart
and of Lochbui, Macleod of Lewis, MacGhille-challuim of Raasay, and
others, Each chieftain had his piper and bard along with him. In this
conclave it was inter alia agreed that the bard who made the best “rann”
or rhyme in praise of his own master was to receive a prize or badge of
honour immediately after breakfast next day. Macdonald of the Isles had
Macarthur, his own piper and bard, there with the rest. He was commonly
called “Uilleam MacBeathaig.” Lady Macleod having come to understand
that the competition was to take place, felt a deep interest in the
success of “MacBeathaig,” her father’s bard. She had a private interview
with him, and told him that he behoved to compose a “rann” or poem
setting forth that she, as daughter of a Lord of the Isles, was of
higher descent and of nobler blood than Macleod her husband, who
strongly maintained the reverse. As a reward for his services, the good
lady promised him a “triubhas” of “clddh breac scarlaid ”; being a cloth
that she herself had prepared for her husband. MacBeathaig said but
little to the lady at the time, but requested her to tell him when
breakfast was over next morning.
During the rest of that day MacBeathaig remained pensively silent, while
the other bards taunted him by saying, “Come on, William, come on, my
man, you do not attempt any preparation to praise your master at all.
You see and hear how we are exerting ourselves.”
MacBeathaig retorted and
said:—
’Se sinn fein a mholamaid,
Mar linne loma-lan ;
Na h-uile sruthain a’s tana,
’S iad a’s Circle g^ir.
The meaning of which is :—
Our praise of self
Is like a full flood;
While all the shallowest streams
Will make the loudest noise.
The other bards listened but said nothing. Next day came, and the lady
told her protege, MacBeathaig, that the breakfast was just finished. He
thanked her ladyship and went immediately forward to the
breakfasting-hall. He quietly knocked, and on the door being opened he
stood there silently after bowing to the assembled guests. Macleod
addressed him and said, “A Ghoistidh, thig air t-adhairt,” that is, “My
friend, ccme forward.”
MacBeathaig in bold, firm language expressed himself in the following
emphatic terms :—
Cha’n fheudar beannailt ri luchd nan comhladh,
’S ann de’m’ idghnadh ;
Fhiiair sibh tigh agus leth Alba,
Le neart bhur daoine;
Maclonmhuinn, Macllleathan, ’s MacLeoid Ledthais,
Triuir bha ’feitheamh dreuchd
A’n teachd Mhic Dhomhnuill;
Fear-ionaid MhicLeoid a’ Dunbhegain— Dorsair seomair,—
’S bu mhath an inbh dha
Bhi ’feitheamh cdmhlaidh;
Morair Hundaidh nan each seanga,
Dha’m biodh mbr-shluagh,—
Bhiodh esan am freasdail stiorraip ’N am tearnaidh;
Fhuair iad duais mhaith a’ cheann sin,
’Badenach o cheann gu ceann di,— Aca tha i—aca tha i.
In these lines the bard considered the chieftains present as in no
better position than mere menials or door-keepers to his own renowned
master, “Domhnull Gdrm,” Lord of the Isles.
Macleod attentively listened to the rhyme, but, furious with rage, he
addressed the bard saying, “A’ chon bhodaich, rinn thu luchd-muinntir
uile dhinn” (You churlish dog, you made servants of us all). The bard
said nothing, but, turning on his heel, went to his own chamber. Macleod
knowing well that MacBeathaig’s poem was the best, soon followed him
with the badge, promised to the best bard, in his hand, and, having
entered the room, said, “Thig an so, a’ MhicBeathaig, agus gabh do
dhuais” (Come hither, MacBeathag, and receive your badge). The bard,
according to the following emphatic words, looked upon the badge with
scorn, and told Macleod plainly, but sarcastically, that he would
receive a badge or reward in the halls of music and song from his own
great heroic chief, “Domhnull Gorm;” and not only so, but would enjoy
that distinguished hero’s hospitality in all manner of profuseness and
comfort—
’S ann a gheibhinn mo dhuais
Ann an talla nan tend,
Bho Dhomhnull Gorm, an t-armunn treun,
Bho Dhomhnull Gdrm, bu cl o nhnard ceum.
Fodh chdmhrag &rm,—
Bho Dhomhnull Gorm, ’nan cli&r’s nan creach,
Mo bhiadh’s mo dheoch,
M’ uisge-beatha’s m’ fhion gu moch,
’S mo ghrian air loch.
Macleod’s lady whose heart was gladdened by the bard’s success, took all
care that before he left Dunvegan he was supplied with enough for a new
suit from her web of “clddh breac scarlaid.” |
