Gairloch In North-West Ross-Shire Part 2

The scene of our story is laid in this beautiful and hallowed island. St Maelrubha had been long gathered to his fathers, and the sacred college of Iona had appointed a successor to his hermitage on Isle Maree, who in turn had made room for another. The occupant of the cell at the date of our story is an aged saint of peculiar sagacity and piety. Long known to the wild people of Gairloch for his bold denunciations and shrewd penetration, he had acquired by his stern eloquence and ascetic life an extraordinary influence over them. The Christian festivals brought successive offerings to the sainted hermit, and the island oft resounded with the psalms of David chaunted by the throng of faithful pilgrims.

But not only the common people resorted to the cell of the holy man; the Norse Vikings, who held the district in partial subjugation, frequently came to him for the ministrations of religion and for the benefit of his sage counsel. To one and all, to young and old, to Celt and Norwegian, he was alike accessible.

A young Norwegian prince was chief among the Vikings who then dominated this part of the west coast. Prince Olaf was of the blood royal of Norway, and on this account alone would have been willingly adopted by his fellows as their leader, had not his personal bravery and reckless daring secured to him the post of honour. He had a grievous failing,--a restless and ungovernable temper. Naturally high-spirited, he had been as a boy the spoilt darling of his fellows, and had grown up a creature of impulse, subject to paroxysms of fearful pa.s.sion. Whenever he was thwarted in his plans, or roused to anger by foe or friend, the evil spirit came upon him, and he lost all command of himself.

The prince lived with his fighting men in his great war galley, except during the winter, when they encamped on one or other of the islands of Loch Ewe. Often would Olaf repair to the hermitage of Isle Maree, and receive from the saint kindly advice and priestly absolution.

It was natural that one so impulsive should early fall under the influence of the tender pa.s.sion. We need not try to imagine the story of Olaf's love; it was no common attachment; the flame burned in his breast with an intensity becoming his fiery spirit.

But a difficulty arose. He was unwilling, at least at first, to ask his bride to exchange the comparative quietude of her father's home for the restless life of a ship of war. In dire perplexity he sought the advice of his friend the saint of Isle Maree. The wise old man proposed that another and a larger dwelling should be erected in the form of a tower to the west of the enclosure in the centre of which stood his own humble cell. To this tower Olaf might bring his bride and there they might take up their abode, within easy reach of the prince's galley on Loch Ewe.

To hasten on. The prince eagerly adopted this plan, and in a short time the tower was built, and Olaf brought his bonny bride to the island.

Here they were married by the aged hermit, amid the rejoicings of their followers. The princess and her maidens were delighted with the romantic and secure retreat. Olaf's attendants pitched their tents around, and the leafy grove grew gay with joyful laughter and with genial song.

For a while all went smoothly. The life of the young lovers was a continual delight; their pa.s.sion for one another only increased as months rolled on. In vain his comrades sent message after message entreating the presence of the prince on board his ship. He could not tear himself away from his darling, and she in turn was more than unwilling that he should leave her. At length there came word that a long-planned expedition, in which other leaders were to take part, was ready to start, and Olaf was expected to a.s.sume the command. He dared no longer remain in retirement. With aching heart he told the princess of his approaching departure. Her tears were unavailing; on the morrow he must leave. Meanwhile strange forebodings of evil filled the minds of both. What if he should be slain in battle! What if some unknown danger should cause her death in his absence! A scheme was concocted for shortening the final moments of suspense. It was agreed that when the prince should return, a white flag would be displayed from his barge on Loch Maree if all were well; if otherwise, a black flag would be shewn.

The maidens prepared these flags, and the prince took them with him. The princess was to leave the island in her barge whenever her lord's boat should come in sight, and she in like manner was to display a white or black flag to denote her safety or the reverse.

The morning came, and they parted. The prince arrived at Poolewe, was received by his men with wild enthusiasm, and set sail at once. It is not necessary that we should follow him through the perilous campaign.

Enough that all ended well, and the victorious prince returned safely to Poolewe. In hot haste, and half crazy with excitement, he sought his boat on Loch Maree, raised with his own hand the snow-white banner of success, and mustered the faithful attendants who were to row him to Isle Maree.

During his absence the princess had pa.s.sed through several phases of anxiety. At first despair took possession of her heart, and it was long ere the good old saint and her own maidens were able to soothe her with words of hope. As she became calmer, a new misgiving occurred to her.

Did Olaf prefer the excitement of warfare to the peaceful society of his bride? Had she lost the devotion of his heart? Did he really love her?

Then horrible jealousy became her absorbing feeling. Was the faithless prince to treat her as an insignificant plaything, to be caressed one day and deserted the next? It was all in vain that her companions strove to check this new folly; she declared continually that her husband had never truly loved her. Under the influence of this crushing doubt, she devised a scheme whereby she resolved to test the reality of his vaunted affection, if indeed he should ever return.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOCH MAREE FROM INVERAN.]

At last the lookout announced that he saw the prince's barge, bearing the white flag, emerge from the river Ewe into the open loch. And now what emotions filled the breast of the lovely princess! What conflicting sentiments, love and doubt, joy and fear! All had been arranged to carry out her strange scheme. The large barge was ready; from its stern the black flag was raised aloft; a bier was placed in the centre of the barge on which the princess herself--now pallid with anxiety--reclined as if sleeping the sleep of death; a white shroud covered her rec.u.mbent form; around were grouped her maidens, gloomy with well-simulated grief; and the sad and silent rowers moved the barge slowly onwards toward the lower end of Loch Maree.

Meanwhile Olaf gazed earnestly in the direction of the island (which was kept in sight all the way), urging anon his willing crew to put forth their utmost speed. Soon, in the distance, he discovered the barge of the princess. Could he be mistaken? Was that the black flag of death which waved above it? He made all his men in turn scrutinize the approaching barge, and each reluctantly confirmed what Olaf's own eyes had testified. Gradually the prince grew frantic with awful despair. Was he to be thus foiled by evil fate in the very hour of his triumph? Had death s.n.a.t.c.hed his darling from his fond embrace? Were they never to meet again? Yes, he would follow her to that heavenly home the holy father had often told them of! His agony increased each moment; he cursed; he raved; his manly face became like a maniac's; his words and gestures were those of a man possessed. The crew were horror-struck; none dared speak; they pulled the oars with what seemed superhuman strength, but the wind was against them, and some time elapsed before the barges were alongside. The dreadful interval served only to increase the prince's frenzy; his wild ravings became unintelligible.

Before the vessels touched, the madman leapt into the other barge. He saw the shroud; he raised it; he gazed a moment on the still, pale face of his bride; he gave one agonized cry; then he plunged his dirk in his own breast, and in a moment that storm-tossed heart ceased to beat!

And now the miserable princess sprang from the bier, convinced too late of her husband's pa.s.sionate love; there he lay dead, she alone the cause; with a wild shriek of remorse, she drew the dirk from Olaf's heart and plunged it in her own. Her death was not so instantaneous as his, and life had not quite fled when the barge, with its terrible freight, arrived at Isle Maree. The holy father raised the crucifix before the lady's closing eyes, and uttered words of earnest prayer; then her spirit pa.s.sed away, and all was over.

The bodies of the unhappy pair were buried within the enclosure on the island, beneath the shade of the sacred hollies; they were laid with their feet towards each other, and smooth stones with outlines of mediaeval crosses (_see ill.u.s.tration_) were placed over the graves, and there remain to this day. A few stones still indicate the site of the hermit's cell, and a considerable mound marks where the tower stood.

Such, with some little filling-in of detail, is the story as commonly told in Gairloch of the sad tragedy which casts a halo of romance around the beautiful Isle Maree. There are, as might be expected, some slightly different versions of the legend, but this is the most usual one. Its variations in form only go to prove its general truthfulness, and there is no reason to doubt that the tragedy really occurred substantially as here related; the tombstones, with their ancient crosses, are still to be seen, and there is no other account of them proposed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CROSSES ON THE GRAVES OF THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS ON ISLE MAREE.]

Chapter III.

THE MACKENZIES OF KINTAIL.

Two origins of the great house of Mackenzie, lords of Kintail, and afterwards earls of Seaforth, of whom the Gairloch family are a branch, have been propounded, and have given rise to considerable discussion.

By one pedigree they have been made to spring from Colin Fitzgerald, descendant of Otho who came to England with William the Conqueror, fought with him at the battle of Hastings in 1066, and was created Castellan and Baron of Windsor. Otho married a Welsh princess; their grandson Maurice distinguished himself in the subjugation of Ireland, was appointed to the joint government of that country, and was created Baron of Wicklow and Naas Offelim in 1172. Others say this Maurice was of the ancient Tuscan family of Gherardini, who date as far back as A.D.

800. Gerald, a son of Maurice, was created Lord Offally. A grandson of Gerald married the grand-daughter and representative of the last of the ancient line of the kings of Desmond. Colin Fitzgerald was their eldest son. He came to Scotland, and a.s.sisted Alexander III. at the battle of Largs. It is said that Colin was afterwards settled by Alexander III. in Eileandonain Castle, in Kintail; that he received a grant of the lands of Kintail from that king; that he married the daughter of MacMhathain, heritor of the half of Kintail; and that their only son Kenneth became the progenitor of the clan MacKenneth, or Mackenzie.

The use of the Cabar Feidh, or deers' horns, as the crest of the Mackenzies, is supposed to have originated in a brave deed done by Colin Fitzgerald. He was hunting with Alexander III. in the forest of Mar in 1265 when an infuriated stag, closely pursued by the hounds, charged the king. Colin interposed, and shot the stag in the head with an arrow. The grateful monarch granted to Colin a stag's head puissant as his armorial bearing.

The other genealogy of the Mackenzies a.s.serts that the first Kenneth from whom the family sprang was of a native Gaelic stock, almost as ancient as the ancestry of Fitzgerald. This descent is argued by Mr Alexander Mackenzie, in his History of the Mackenzies. Relying on an old MS. dated 1450, he shows that Kenneth was of the seed of Gilleon Og, or Colin the younger, son of Gilleon na h' Airde, who lived in the tenth century, and was also the ancestor of the O'Beolan earls of Ross. It seems that Angus MacMhathain, constable of Eileandonain, was descended from Gilleon Og, and was a near relative of the O'Beolan earls of Ross, who were the superior lords of Kintail. Kenneth, the only son of Angus, was a nephew of William, third Earl of Ross, and succeeded his father in the government of Kintail. This Kenneth, we may a.s.sume, was the founder of the Mackenzie family.

The question really seems to be whether Kenneth was a MacMhathain on his father's side or on his mother's side. In either case he had the blood of the earls of Ross flowing in his veins.

Kenneth, who died about 1304, set his relative, the Earl of Ross, at defiance, and established himself in an independent position as lord of Kintail, but his descendants were hara.s.sed by the earls of Ross, who endeavoured to regain their power in the district.

John Mackenzie, the second lord of Kintail, and only son of Kenneth, sheltered Robert Bruce when he was in hiding, and afterwards a.s.sisted him to gain the throne of Scotland. John Mackenzie led five hundred of his clansmen--some of them possibly Gairloch men--to the victorious field of Bannockburn on 24th June 1314, and by his loyalty and valour rendered more secure his possessions in Kintail.

Kenneth Mackenzie, called Kenneth of the Nose, only son of John, became third chief of Kintail; he was a weak man, and in his time the Earl of Ross regained a considerable hold over the district.

Kenlochewe, which is part of Gairloch in the present day, was attached to the lordship of Kintail and shared its troubles. It was about 1350 that some of the followers of the Earl of Ross made a raid into Kenlochewe, and carried off a great spoil. Kenneth Mackenzie, third lord of Kintail, pursued them, slew many of the invaders, and recovered much of the spoil. The Earl of Ross after this succeeded in apprehending Mackenzie, and had him executed at Inverness. The Earl then granted the lands of Kenlochewe to his follower Leod Mac Gilleandreis.

The fourth lord of Kintail was Black Murdo of the Cave, only lawful son of Kenneth of the Nose. Murdo received this _soubriquet_ because, being a wild youth, he preferred, rather than attend the ward school where the heirs of those who held their lands from the king were sent, to take up his abode in some one or other of the caves about Torridon and Kenlochewe, hoping to get a chance of slaying Leod Mac Gilleandreis. The latter hearing of Murdo's resort, and fearing mischief, endeavoured to apprehend him, so that Murdo had to flee the country. He went to his uncle, M'Leod of the Lews, and there met one Gille Riabhach, who had come to Stornoway with twelve men about the same time as himself. After so long a time had elapsed that Mac Gilleandreis supposed Murdo was dead, his uncle gave to Murdo one of his great galleys or birlinns, with as many men as he desired. Murdo embarked at Stornoway, accompanied also by Gille Riabhach and his twelve men, and with a favourable wind they soon arrived at Sanachan in Kishorn. Thence they marched straight to Kenlochewe, and concealed themselves in a thick wood near the house of Mac Gilleandreis. Mackenzie left his followers there, whilst he went to look for his old nurse, who lived thereabouts. He found her engaged in making up a bundle of sticks to carry to Leod's house. Murdo inquired her name, for he did not remember her face at first. She gave her name, and inquired in return who he was. He told her, on which she replied, "Let me see your back, and I will know if you are that man." She remembered that he had a black spot on his back. He took off his clothes, and she saw the black spot, and so she knew him. She was overjoyed at his return, having long grieved for his supposed death. He asked her to procure him information of Leod's doings, and to let him know that night. He made up the bundle of sticks for her, and she went to Leod's house, and duly returned with the news that Leod had fixed a hunt for the next day, and was to meet the people at Kenlochewe in the morning. She said Leod might be known by the red jacket he wore. Murdo determined to take advantage of this occasion, and was early on the ground, accompanied by his followers. As the people arrived he slew all he did not recognise; the natives he knew were dismissed to their homes.

When Leod, in his red jacket, came on the ground with his sons and attendants, Murdo and his band attacked them with their swords, and after a slight resistance Mac Gilleandreis and his followers fled, but were soon overtaken at a place ever since called Fe Leoid, where they were all slain except one of Leod's sons, named Paul, who was taken prisoner, but afterwards released on his promising never again to molest Mackenzie. Murdo gave the widow of Leod Mac Gilleandreis to Gille Riabhach to wife, and their posterity were long known at Kenlochewe. The heads of the people who were slain in Kenlochewe were cut off and thrown into the river there; the stream carried the heads down to a ford, where they ma.s.sed together, and this place has ever since been called Ath-nan-ceann, or the "ford of the heads." The name is now corrupted into Athnagown or Anagown. It is shewn on the maps. The place where Leod Mac Gilleandreis and his followers were slain is about three miles from Kenlochewe, on the hill to the east of the Torridon road. The name Fe Leoid, more correctly written Feith Leoid, means the bog of Leod; it is also shewn on all the maps.

Black Murdo of the Cave, after dispossessing Leod Mac Gilleandreis, went to Kintail, where he was received with open arms by all the people of the country. He married the only daughter of his friend Macaulay, who had defended Eileandonain Castle during his long absence, and through her Mackenzie succeeded to the lands of Loch Broom (including probably the parts of Gairloch lying to the north of Loch Maree and Loch Ewe), granted to Macaulay's predecessor by Alexander II. In 1357, when David II., king of Scotland, returned from England, Murdo laid before his majesty a complaint against the Earl of Ross for the murder of his father, but could obtain no redress; however the king confirmed him in his possession of Kintail by charter dated 1362. Murdo died in 1375.

Murdo of the Bridge, only son of Black Murdo of the Cave, became the fifth lord of Kintail. He was one of the Highland chiefs who accompanied the Earl of Douglas to England and defeated the renowned Hotspur at the battle of Otterburn, or Chevy Chase, on 10th August 1388. Murdo refused to join Donald, the great Lord of the Isles, in his insurrection which culminated in the battle of Harlaw. The history of the Highlands shows that this was a period of extreme disorder and violence, and Gairloch itself was not exempt from the terrors of anarchy. Murdo does not appear to have troubled his head about his rights in Gairloch, and, as other parts of our history will shew, it was overrun by several tribes.

Possibly neither this Murdo nor his father pressed their claim to Gairloch, being sufficiently occupied in keeping possession of Kintail.

Ten years after King Robert II. had confirmed Kintail to Black Murdo of the Cave, the same king confirmed the grant of Gairloch made by the Earl of Ross to Paul M'Tyre (Part I., chap. i.). But we hear no more of Paul M'Tyre; and, as an old writer has well said of this time, "during this turbulent age securities and writs, as well as laws, were little regarded; each man's protection lay in his own strength."

Murdo of the Bridge, who died about 1416, married Finguala, daughter of Malcolm M'Leod of Harris by his wife Martha, daughter of Donald Earl of Mar, a nephew of King Robert Bruce. Their only son, Alexander the Upright, so called "for his righteousness," became the sixth laird of Kintail. He died in 1488, about ninety years of age. By his first wife, Anna Macdougall of Dunolly, he had two sons, Kenneth and Duncan. By his second marriage he had one son, known among Highlanders as Eachainn Ruadh, or Hector Roy, destined to become the famous founder of the Gairloch family. There was also a daughter by the second marriage, who became the wife of Allan M'Leod, laird of Gairloch.

In the year 1452, during the rule of Alexander the Upright, the desperate skirmish of Beallach nan Brog occurred, in which the Earl of Ross, to punish the western tribes for seizing his son, attacked and slaughtered his foes, including Mackenzie's Kenlochewe men, who are said to have been almost exterminated.

It is not within the scope of this narrative to pursue further the history of the great house of Kintail. The next chapter will relate a Gairloch legend treating of events which occurred during the time of one of the earlier Kintail Mackenzies.

It may be convenient to explain, that long before 1609, when Kenneth, twelfth laird of Kintail, was created Lord Mackenzie of Kintail, these great lairds were commonly called Lords of Kintail. Colin, son of this Kenneth, was created Earl of Seaforth and Viscount Fortrose in 1623.

Some time prior to this date the possessions of the Kintail family had increased to the dimensions of a province, and Eileandonain Castle had ceased to be their headquarters, the castle of Chanonry in the Black Isle, formerly the bishop's palace, being preferred. The first Lord Seaforth added to Chanonry Castle, and built Brahan Castle, which continued the residence of the Seaforth family to a recent date. The family became extinct in the male line on the death of the last Lord Seaforth in 1815. Long before the erection of Brahan Castle the lairds of Kintail frequently resided at a mains or farm they possessed at Brahan.

Chapter IV.

EWAN MAC GABHAR, THE SON OF THE GOAT.

On the north-eastern sh.o.r.e of Loch Maree, about three miles above the place where the river Ewe leaves the loch, is situated Ardlair, than which no lovelier spot can be found in all the range of Highland scenery. There are groves of different kinds of trees, and a belt of them skirts the shingly sh.o.r.e of the loch; smooth gra.s.sy glades are interspersed among the woods, behind which rise a series of marvellous precipices, unclimbable, except in two or three places, save by sure-footed deer or goats. Below the steep background lie here and there great ma.s.ses of rock, which ages ago have fallen from the cliffs above.

About a quarter of a mile to the south-east of the present Ardlair House, and rather nearer to the house than a small tarn nestling there beneath the cliffs, is a large cairn or a.s.semblage of enormous rocks, heaped and piled upon each other in fantastic confusion. Ash trees and wild roses, heather and ferns, grow in tangled medley among the _debris_, and, concealing the interstices, render access extremely difficult. But the persevering searcher will discover a roomy cave, formed by a mighty block of rock lying slantways over other fallen blocks. The entrance to the cave is well concealed, and can only be got at by climbing on to a ledge that forms a narrow platform in front of it. After groping two or three yards along a low narrow pa.s.sage a dark chamber is reached in which one can stand upright. The floor is level, and perfectly dry. The cairn is about a hundred and fifty yards from the sh.o.r.e of Loch Maree. This cave is called by old Gairloch people now living "The cave of the king's son," a name that it owes to the following story, the opening scene of which is laid here. No date can be a.s.signed to the events narrated, but they cannot have occurred later than in the thirteenth or fourteenth century.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AT ARDLAIR.]