Uilleam Ros: Am Bàrd air an robh galar gaoil – II

A’ leantainn air a’ bhlog mu dheireadh, tha còrr den sgeulachd ann mu Uilleam Ros. Faodar a ràdh cuideachd gun d’rugadh Ros ann an 1762 ann an Sìthean anns an Eilean Sgitheanach. B’e athair Iain Ros agus b’e a mhàthair nighean Iain ’icAoidh, Am Pìobaire Dall, a bhuineadh do Gheàrrloch, Taobh Siar Rois. Chaidh Uilleam Ros a thogail anns an t-Srath san Eilean Sgitheanach. Dar a bha e fhathast na sgoilear anns an eilean, bha e follaiseach gur h-e gille tapaidh a bh’ ann agus gun robh e fada air thoiseach air a cho-aoisean. Chuir a phàrantan rompa gum b’fhiach e Uilleam a chur do sgoil gràmair ann am Farrais ann an Sgìre Mhoireibh. Leis mar a shoirbhich cùisean le Uilleam Ros aig an sgoil a bha seo, thuirt am maighstir-sgoile nach robh sgoilear na b’ fheàrr na e. B’ ann timcheall air an àm a bha seo gun do thòisich Ros a chuid smaointean a chur ri chèile ann am bàrdachd agus riamh bhon uair sin cha tug e sùil air ais.

Ri linn
a bhi faicinn a h-aon leanabh a fulann
piantan a bhais mu choinneadh a
sul airson a leannan Mor Ros
bha e ri raitinn gun d-rinn a
mhathair achaini[dh] gum bitheadh ise
(re Mor Ros f[h]athast air a losgadh mar
a bha mac-se nis ga losgadh. Mar
a ghuidh b-f[h]ior. Chuala Mor Ros gnog
aig an dorust oi[dh]che s in a suidhe
na taigh fhein ann Liverpool agus
cha[idh] i thun an doruist ga fhosgladh
agus caingeal na laimh. Chun[naic]
i coltas Uilleam Rois agus leis a
chlisgeadh a ghabh tharruinn e
air a h-ais agus fhuair a chaing-
eal greim air an deise thana
gheal a bha oirre agus bha in a lasair
Cha[idh] a losgadh cho dona s gun do
chaochail i goirid na dheigh.
Bha e air a ogh-ra nuair a dh is
a bhean Mor Ros an duin aice
gum fac i buillean Ros aig an
dorust gun d-eirich e mach le
feirg le pathair dhag na laimh
feuch am faiceadh e e gus
a mharbhadh. An a litir a
fhuair an duine aig Mor Ros
a’ Steornabhagh dh-is i gu ’n do
chaochail Uilleam Ros ann an
Gearrloch a cheart oi[dh]che loisgeadh
a bhean.
Bha ogha do Mhor Ros na governess
Mu thua[th] ann [words omitted] Ros no
Cataobh bho chionn beagan uine.
Is ann aig a chithe ann an Steorna
bhagh a bha an taigh anns an ro[bh]
an cruinneachadh far am fac
Uilleam Ros Mor Ros an toiseach.
S ann a sin a rinn e “Feasgar Luain.”
Tha an taigh direach aig a chithe
agus aghai[dh] san airde Tuath.
Is e mac bhrathair athair do dh-Iain
MacCoinnich an Uisge-bhagh a thrus
orain Uilleam Ros agus a fhuair
air an clo-bhualadh iad – am fear a
chuir a mach Sar Obair nam Bard
Gaelach. Is ann bho fhear Mac
a Phearsain a fhuair an trusadair
a chuid mhor do na h-orain aig
Uilleam Ros. Bha Mac A Phearsoin
na nabai[dh] aig Uilleam Ros. Ach
cha d-f[h]uaradh riamh s cha n f[h]aigh
faisg air an rinn Uilleam Ros a
dh-orain. Tha orain ann a rinn
Uilleam Ros nach d-f[h]uair Iain Mac
Coinnnich
Chuir da dhuin uasal anns
na h-Innsean dachaid[h] airgiod
gu Monument a thogail a dh U[illeam] Ros
Ach leis an uaigh aig bhi measg uaigh
nean eile cha b-urraiuntac [sic] Monument
a chur air. Thugadh a sin a deas
leac-lithe ach bha i ra ghoirid. Bha
leac air roimhe le aois us ainm
agus dh-f[h]agadh air i.

Biographical notes on the poet William Ross collected from Alexander MacKenzie, Loch Uiskevagh, Benbecula originally from Gearrloch, Ross and Cromarty, including how he met Alastair’s mother [Mary MacKenzie], for whom he wrote ‘Moladh na h-Oighe Gaelaich’; how shortly before he died, Ross burned all his books; about the relationship between him and Mor Ros, for whom he wrote many poems and who eventually married an army officer called Mr Clough; some notes about Mor’s family and how she died having been badly burned on the same night as Ross died in Gairloch; about gathering Ross’s works for publication and the erection of a monument to him. Mary MacKenzie’s death and burial place is also noted.

References:
CW104 91r-88r
Dòmhnallach, Tormod, ‘Uilleam Ros: A Bheatha ’s a Bhàrdachd’, Gairm, vol. 57 (1966), pp. 19–26 and vol. 58 (1967), pp. 108–15.
MacMhathain, Uilleam, ‘Mòr Ros’, Gairm, vol. 3 (1954/55), pp. 339–42

Image:
Duilleag tiotal de leabhar Uilleim Rois

Uilleam Ros: Am Bàrd air an robh galar gaoil – I

’S e Uilleam Ros (1762–1791) aon de na bàird Ghàidhlig as ainmeile bhon ochdamh linn deug. Dh’fhaodte an rud as ainmeile m’a dheidhinn, ’s e gun d’ fhuair e am bàs le gaol (no galar gaoil) oir, mar a tha an sgeulachd a leanas a dh’innseas, ghabh e trom ghaol air Mòr Ros ach, gu mì-fhortanach, cha do dh’obraich gnothaichean a-mach idir mar bu mhiann leis, air neo, mar bu mhiann leotha. Gun teagamh sam bith, ’s e sgeulachd thiamhaidh, throm a th’ ann ach mura b’e airson na dh’fhuiling Ros le galar gaoil cha bhiodh na h-òrain aige cho drùidhteach. Tha mu dheich air fhichead de na dàin a rinneadh le Uilleam Ros air fhàgail agus chaidh a’ mhòr-chuid de na h-òrain sin a thrusadh le Iain MacConnich (1806–1848), am neach-deasachaidh a chuir Sàr-Obair nam Bàrd Gaelach (1841) ri chèile. B’ ann bho Alasdair MacCoinnich a bha fuireach aig an àm ann an Uisgebhagh, Beinn na Faoghla, a chlàraich Alasdair MacGilleMhìcheil na fhuair e air 14mh den Mhàrt 1866. Tha e coltach gur h-ann a mhuinntir Gheàrrloch, Siorrachd Rois, a bhuineadh cuideachd Alasdair MhicCoinnich:

“Moladh na h-Oighe Gaelaich”. Se bainm
dhi[th] Mairi Nic Coinnich. Se an riasan
mu d rinn Uilleam Ros [an] t oran bha
Bāl dannsac[hd] ann agus bha mai[gh]dean[n]
og a sin gan ro[bh] U[illeam] Ros soin [sic].
Bha i fhein agus Mairi Nic Coinnich
nan suidhe la[mh] ra cheile. Thainig U[illeam] Ros
agus shuidh e taobh na māidean og
agus dh-eirich ise us shuidh i air
an tao[bh] eile do Mhairi Nic Coinnich
Shuidh Mairi Nic Coinnich gu
stolta ciuin far an ro[bh] i. Ghabh U[illeam] Ros
speis mhor dhi[th] airson a toinisg
seach an te eile theich agus graine aic[e]
air agus ga nan ro[bh] sian gaoil aig
oirre rinn e t-oran dhi[th]. Bha Mairi
Nic Coinnich na h-ighinn fior
briadh an tus a h-oige agus i fua[tha]s
ach so-aimh siobhalta. Chaochail i
aig Loch Uisge-bhadh [word omitted] 1[8]85
aois [word omitted]. Tha i tio[dh]laicte ann an
cladh Bhaile-nan-Cailleach Beinn-
da-fhaola
Rinn Uilleam Ros fua[tha]s[ach] oran. An leabai[dh]
a bhais beagan la’un mun do chaochail
e dh-eirich e la[mh] agus a mhathar is
taigh agus cha i os cionnn ann an ro[bh]
na leabhraichean aige agus thug e as
a chuile gin diu agus chuir e air
an teine iad agus loisgeadh iad uile
Cha ro[bh] Didaoirn ’s a bhlianna nach
ro[bh] e deanadh oran no dan do Mhor
Ros. Bha Mor Ros gle dheonach
U[illeam] Ros a phosadh ach bha
a cairdean ardanach mor agus cha
leigeadh iad le[i]the phosadh. Thainig
oifigeach long chogai[dh] rathad Steorna
bhadh agus ghabh e gaol air Mor Ros
agus shir e air a h-athair i agus
thug a h-athair oirre an t oifigeach
Mr Clough a phosadh ach
b f[h]earr le[i]the fhein U[illeam] Ros. Leig a
sin U[illeam] Ros “laidh broin us bais”
air fhein a caoidh a leannain
agus chaochail e ann an caitheadh
Bha a mhathair og innseadh do
dh-Iain MacCoinnich nach ro[bh] U[illeam]
Ros sa bhria[gh] idir nach ro[bh] ann ach
fear ard dugh ach gu ro[bh] e gu math
direach deas agus glan na phearsa
’s geal na chneas.

Biographical notes on the poet William Ross collected from Alexander MacKenzie, Loch Uiskevagh, Benbecula originally from Gearrloch, Ross-shire, including how he met Alastair’s mother [Mary MacKenzie], for whom he wrote ‘Moladh na h-Oighe Gaelaich’; how shortly before he died, Ross burned all his books; about the relationship between him and Mor Ros, for whom he wrote many poems and who eventually married an army officer called Mr Clough; some notes about Mor’s family and how she died having been badly burned on the same night as Ross died in Gairloch; about gathering Ross’s works for publication and the erection of a monument to him. Mary MacKenzie’s death and burial place is also noted.

References:

CW104 91r-88r

Dòmhnallach, Tormod, ‘Uilleam Ros: A Bheatha ’s a Bhàrdachd’, Gairm, vol. 57 (1966), pp. 19–26 and vol. 58 (1967), pp. 108–15.

MacMhathain, Uilleam, ‘Mòr Ros’, Gairm, vol. 3 (1954/55), pp. 339–42

Image:
Duilleag tiotal den leabhar Uilleim Rois

“Reciters are the most egotistical set I have ever met”

In a rare and fascinating piece recorded on 24 April 1866 by Alexander Carmichael from Hector MacIsaac, or Eachann mac Ruaraidh (c. 1797–1878), a joiner by trade who hailed from Carnan, Iochdar, South Uist, we glimpse the thoughts of a tradition bearer revealing what he actually believed about the tales he possessed and what he thought of other tradition bearers. Such opinions would have been the topic of conversation before Carmichael wrote down the main object of his quarry – songs, charms, tales, proverbs, etc. – and so were not often recorded. It is noteworthy that Carmichael opined that: ‘Reciters are the most egotistical set I have ever met’ for, he continues, they say that they are the best and every other tradition bearer is inferior to them. Perhaps Carmichael might be a tad guilty of tarring others with the same brush here but there is no doubt that some, if not many, tradition bearers could be jealous of another’s repertoire and their ability as storytellers. At the very least this shows a human side to the art of storytelling. Such was the impact of Hector MacIsaac on Carmichael that he was moved to write about him in his introduction to Carmina Gadelica:

Hector Macisaac and his wife were the only occupants, their daughter being at service trying to prolong existence in her parents. Both had been highly endowed physically, and were still endowed mentally, though now advanced in years. The wife knew many secular runes, sacred hymns, and fairy songs; while the husband had numerous heroic tales, poems, and ballads.

I had visited these people before, and in September 1871 lain F. Campbell of Islay and I went to see them. Hector Macisaac, the unlettered cottar who knew no language but his own, who came into contact with no one but those of his own class, his neighbours of the peat-bog, and who had never been out of his native island, was as polite and well-mannered and courteous as Iain Campbell, the learned barrister, the world-wide traveller, and the honoured guest of every court in Europe. Both were at ease and at home with one another, there being neither servility on the one side nor condescension on the other.

The stories and poems which Hector Macisaac went over during our visits to him would have filled several volumes. Mr Campbell now and then put a leading question which brought out the storyteller’s marvellous memory and extensive knowledge of folklore.

Also notable is a name that has been mentioned before in this blog. Ruaraidh Ruadh, or the Red-haired Catechist (c. 1750–c. 1830), who had a major impact on the oral tradition of Uist as can be seen from the last passage.

Hector MacIosag despises mythological
tales and says they are great rubbish in which
I fear many men of greater pretention [sic]
will concur. But of the Fingalians
tales he declares them to be worthy [of] the
attention of princes – that they are the
most elegant excellent and delightful
tales that man could listen to. He
says that he heard tales read as repeated
by persons whom he knows and that
the tales were so garbled and mangled
that he hung down his head and
closed his ears for very shame. He
declares that When [he] is done planting
his potatoes he will travel over the
F[ord]– a dis[tance] of about 26 m[iles]. – to give me
a proper opp[ortunity] of taking down every word
he has before he dies. He says he he [sic] [has]
neither son nor dau[ghter] except one
little girl to whom he can leave his
legacy of prose and poetry. And as
he likes me better than any other
person in the world he is desirous
I should become poss[essor] of this invaluable
legacy. Ind[eed] he considers it an imper[tinence]
that his young daug[hter] does not exhibit
a wish to become poss[essor] of these tales of
the Fein[n]e in prose and poetry. He dec[lares]
that there is no man from the Butt of
Lewis to Barra Head – 200 m[iles] – who has
the history of the Fing[alians] so well as he. Re[citers]
are the most egotistical set I have
ever met. Each thinks himself much
better than his neigh[bour] in reciting. Each
declares that other re[citers] are only garbling
the tales. Ruarai Ruadh from whom
E[achann] MacIosaig learnt his tales died a-
bout 40 y[ears] ago – about 80 years of age.
A gentleman came from Edin[burgh] to take
down from him. He remained several weeks
from writing from his dictation.
For excelling so much in this L[ord] MacDon[ald]
generously gave him a house and piece
of land free of rent and this he enjoyed
while he lived. Proba[bly] he was the last Ga[elic?]
reciter who enjoyed free lands for his an[cient]
lore. He was a catechist and used to go
about catechising but in the reality
his audiences were more partial to his
old lore than to better talk. And truth to say
we believe the old man took more delight
in reciting and expounding the Fing[alian]
tales and poems than those of the Bible.


References:
Carmina Gadelica i, p. xx
CW 104, fos. 83v–82v

Image:
Carnan, Iochdar, South Uist

Fenian Place-names in Ross-shire

Continuing with a Ross-shire theme, in a short but nonetheless interesting piece taken down by Alexander Carmichael, probably from the recitation of Alexander MacKenzie (born around 1799), then resident in Uisgebhagh in Benbecula but of Gairloch origins, there is some information given about Fenian place-names.

Tha gleann an sgir Polliu air a

bheil Gleann na tullach. Tha Suidhichean

Fhinn air mullach na beinne.

Tha "Gleann-na-muic" ann an tao[bh]

tuath dheth n t shuidheach. Tha

uaigh Dhiarmaid an Gleann na

tullach agus an uaigh aig an

da ghe'ala chu aig a casan aon

air gach taobh.

The above may be given in translation as follows:

There is a glen in the district of Poolewe which is called Glen Tullach. Suidheachan Fhinn (Fionn’s or Fingal’s Seat) is on the mountain’s summit. Gleann na Muic lies to the north of this and Diarmad’s grave is in Glen Tullach and on his grave are two white hounds on each side of his feet.

Such onomastic traditions would have piqued the interest of Prof. W. J. Watson, for he wrote about such place-names in his first major work, The Place-Names of Ross and Cromarty (1904), where he states that Fionn seems to be referenced in the place-name Suidheachan Fhinn, but that it is one of many. In his book about Gairloch, John Henry Dixon (1838–1926)  fleshes out a little more detail about this place-name: ‘Again, there is a mound in a depression near the summit of Beinn Tarsuinn, called Suidheachdan Fhinn, or Fingal’s seat, where they say he used to sit and spy when hunting on the mountains.’ Throughout the Highlands and Islands there are many places associated with the Fenian warriors of a mythological past and stories such as these give a depth and resonance to those very landscapes. One of if not the most famous example of Fingal’s Seat (called Suidh Fhinn) lies just outside Portree, in the Isle of Skye, and views from its top offer a wonderful vista including, on a clear day, the mountains of Wester Ross.

References:

CW 104, fol. 35v

Dixon, John H., Gairloch in North-West Ross-shire: Its Records, Traditions, Inhabitants, and Natural History (Edinburgh: Co-operative Printing Co. Ltd., 1886)

Watson, William J., Place-names of Ross and Cromarty (Inverness: The Northern Counties Printing and Publishing Co. Ltd., 1904)

Image:
Fingal’s Seat or Suidh Fhinn, Isle of Skye

A Son of Ross-shire: Professor W. J. Watson

A figure sometimes overshadowed in the Carmichael Watson Project, but whose name certainly shouldn’t be forgotten, is William John (Ross) Watson (1865–1948). On his second marriage to Ella Carmichael (1870–1928), W. J. Watson became Alexander Carmichael’s son-in-law. Born at Milton in the parish of Kilmuir Easter in Easter Ross to Hugh Watson (1829–1893), a blacksmith, and Maria Buckle Ross (1829–1891), the precocious young Watson would grind himself out a brilliant academic career and would establish his name as the foremost Scottish onomastician of his generation. In an idle moment W. J. Watson jotted down some all too brief details about his birth and early childhood:

My mother’s people belonged to the Milntown of
New Tarbat, parish of Kilmuir Easter, where they
had some houses forming a small street. My
father belonged to Upper Kindeace, in the same parish
― a blacksmith, as his father was before him. The
smithy, now in ruins, stood by the roadside
above the brae from Tullich. The house, close by,
commands a magnificent view of the Cromarty
Firth & the Sutors & to the east the parish of Nigg
Through the Sutors we views the south opposite side of
the Moray Firth; altogether a view hard to
equal.
Milntown, where I
was born on February 17, 1865, is an old-
fashioned village, on record, in 1749 as “Myltoun
of Melthat with its two mills.” In my boyhood
I often visited our relations there, I enjoyed
their kindly company. There was (& is) a
village green, where a bonfire blazed on
New Year’s Day, Old Style. The village was
largely self contained – shops, public house, meal
mill, meeting house, shoemaker…

Educated initially by an uncle, James Watson, in Strathconon then later in Boath, Alness, he entered the Grammar School of Old Aberdeen in October 1880. From there he graduated with First Class Honours in Classics in 1886, and afterwards acted as assistant to Sir William Mitchell Ramsay, Professor of Latin at Aberdeen University. In the same year Watson entered Merton College, Oxford University, and graduated with First Class Honours in Classical Moderations in 1889, and again, in 1891, he achieved First Class Honours in Litterae Humaniores. During this period he was also an active athlete and gained a double blue in Throwing the Hammer and Stone. While at Oxford he came under the influence of the famous Celtic scholar Sir John Rhys. In 1894, after a short period in Glasgow, and at the early age of twenty-nine, Watson became the Rector of Inverness Royal Academy. At this time he became an active member of the Gaelic Society of Inverness and began to contribute articles to their Transactions. His main interest at this time was in onomastics, especially with regard to Gaelic place-names, as evinced by his early but still unsurpassed study of the Place-Names of Ross and Cromarty (1904). Some two years later Watson married – as his second wife – Elizabeth (Ella) Carmichael; his first wife Isabella Christina née Munro had died aged 33 on 25 September 1902. With Ella he had two sons: Alexander or Alec Carmichael Watson, born 14 December 1908, who died aged only 15 on 3 September 1923; and James Francis, later James Carmichael, Watson, born on 12 March 1910. By the time of James' birth W. J. Watson was the Rector of the Edinburgh Royal High School, a position which he held from 1909 to 1914. On the death of Professor Donald MacKinnon, the holder since its inception in 1882 of the Chair of Celtic Languages, Literature, History and Antiquities at the University of Edinburgh, Watson succeeded him and occupied this prestigious post until his own retirement in 1938. He was then succeeded by his son James Carmichael Watson, who, despite having grounds to forego military service, joined the Royal Navy in World War II and was subsequently posted missing in action, presumed dead, in 1942. Some six years later, in 1948, W. J. Watson himself passed away on 9 March aged eighty-three. He had suffered a great deal during his life: the death of his two wives and – perhaps the most grievous blows of them all – the death of both of his sons by his second marriage. W. J. Watson is chiefly remembered today for The Celtic Place-names of Scotland (1926), a work thirty years in the making and one which still stands the test of time, the primary scholarly reference to this fascinating subject area.

References:

CW25B, fos. 109r-109v

Nicolaisen, W. F. H., ‘In Praise of W. J. Watson (1865–1948): Celtic Place-Name Scholar’, Scottish Language, vol. 14/15 (1995/96), pp. 15–30 [reprinted in William J. Watson, Scottish Place-name Papers (London: Steve Savage, 2002).

Image:

Professor W. J. Watson

Underwater Churches in South Uist

In a fascinating piece about submerged archaeological remains recorded on 4 November 1873 by Alexander Carmichael from Kenneth MacKenzie (c. 1805–1889), a mason then living in Daliburgh, South Uist, the informant tells of an old church that lies near Upper Bornish which can only be visited (back then) at low tide. Carmichael was clearly intrigued by what the mason had to say about these ruins and went out to investigate for himself and where he took the opportunity to write down two folios of notes. Unfortunately, on this occasion, Carmichael, as was his wont, did not take the time to draw a rough sketch of the submerged church. It might have been the case that the tide was already coming back in when he visited and so he only had enough time to jot down some notes before returning to the safety of land.

Below Bornish Uarach & side

of point lowest of spring tide

the best tide. I was shearing
& us[in]g a sharp stone An old h[and]
said to me if you were at Caib
eal Mhic Ceallaich. “Where?
past below you search & find
a build[in]g with door & 1 side arch 20 in[ches]
visible freestone rebut. Half inch
bead ab[ou]t 4 inch[es] back fr[om] edge of corner
and an inch juniper on the face
Wall 21 inch[es] thick & ap[pears] to be a door
There was no way inside such as a
window w[ou]ld have – The up[per] end of the
arch ap[pears] to be ab[ou]t 15 in[ches] fr[om] the Key
Gothic arch. Door ap[pears] ab[ou]t 2½ f[ee]t at
real gothic juniper is wher[e]
edge is cut aw[a]y. Built of lime
& mosslayers inside small & far
larger stones out[side]. Wall cover[ed] over
with tangles large staimh. I tore
off these for 7 f[ee]t of all. There
was more wall but this was
all I bare. rubble filled up the
wall to near top. 200 y[a]rds out fr[om]
the triusa. When I saw the beaut[iful]
work so beaut[ifully] done I had not
the heart to touch it. Her[e] oth[er]
rebuts seemed to have been
taken away. This was ab[ou]t 30
y[ea]rs ago in Aug[us]t. On s[outh] side of
Ruairdvaoilein nearer
Bornish than Kildonan
Caibeal Mhic Cheall[aich] also
at Dallabrog. MacCeallan
request[ed] to be buried as low as
the tide went out & a caib[eal]
about him. But how was
soft lime to solidify?
My sons bro[ugh]t home some bits
of the masonry of the caibeal
at Dallabrog.
Mrs Martin Dallabrog (Allan
her son also) knows all the
sub-mar[ine]-places
Kil phead[air] is under
the sea – It is not seen
now but another.

Reference:
CW111, fos. 2r–2
Image: Aerial view of Ruairdvaoilein nearer Bornish, South Uist.

The Curse of Neist

Among transcriptions of various well-known Gaelic songs that Alexander Carmichael wrote down in  rather a neat hand appears a verse entitled Ùrnaigh Chlann Leòid (‘The Clan MacLeod’s Prayer or Petition’). This rhyme has been collected on a number of occasions and one – a thirty-four line version – was collected, or at any rate written up, by Carmichael and printed in volume four of Carmina Gadelica. Appropriately enough, it was collected from, among others, Archibald MacLellan, a master-mariner from Lochboisdale, South Uist. Carmichael also notes that it was known in Barra as well as on the mainland Highlands in Kintail. Sometimes this particular rhyme is connected with the Clann Mhuirich, or MacVuirichs, who are afforded powers of magic in Gaelic tradition. But perhaps it is best to see this rhyme as part of the historical tradition of a remnant of MacDonalds trying to make an escape from the sixteenth-century battle known as Blàr Milleadh Gàraidh, or the Battle of the Spoiling of the Dyke. Briefly, the MacDonalds arrived by sea from Uist on the first Sunday of May in 1578, set fire to Trumpan church, and burnt the entire congregation apart from one teenage girl who managed to escape to Dunvegan castle to warn the MacLeods of the atrocity. The MacLeods lost no time: waving the fairy flag, they avenged themselves on the MacDonalds. It is said that all the MacDonalds of the raiding party were put to the sword and after the slaughter all their corpses were dragged over to the side of a stone and turf wall which was then subsequently thrown over them. Such was their heinous crime and act of butchery that it was so deemed that they did not warrant a decent burial. If there is any credence to this tradition then some of the MacDonalds managed to make their escape by fleeing in a galley but only, it would seem, to have been fated to a watery grave rather than to the one met by their comrades who had died in battle. It may be added that this atrocity was carried out by the MacDonalds in order to exact vengeance on the MacLeods in return for a similar atrocity on the isle of Eigg some two years earlier.

Urnaigh Chlann Leoid

Gaoth an iar an Ruadha Feiste
Oidhche dhorcha ceo us uisge
Clann Domhnuill air bhordaibh brist
Leum cha misde
Biorlain[n] chaol chorrach
Siuil ard bhinneach
Sgriob fhann fheargach
Gun urram aon da cheile

The word curse perhaps describes this verse better than a prayer. It is usually referred to as The Curse of Neist and might be translated as follows:

A south-west wind towards Eiste point
Dark night of mist and rain
Clan Donald on a breaking board
I pity them not
Galley crank and narrow
Sails high and peaked
Crew weak and angry
Without respect for one another

References:
Black, Ronald (ed.), The Gaelic Otherworld (Edinburgh: Birlinn, 2005), pp. 181–182, 435–436.
Black, Ronald, 'I thought he made it all up: Context and controversy' in Domhnall Uilleam Stiùbhart (ed.), Alexander Carmichael: Life and Legacy (Port of Ness: Islands Book Trust, 2008), pp. 65–68.
Carmina Gadelica, iv, pp. 356–59.
CW 152, fol. 36r.
Image:
Trumpan church, Waternish, Isle of Skye.