|
IN the year 1588, the
good ship "Florida," one of the Spanish Armada, was driven into the
harbour of Tobermory, in Mull, by the great storm which scattered that
proud fleet. The ship was visited by the chief of the Macleans of Duart,
the remains of whose castle are still among the most picturesque objects
on the shores of the Sound of Mull. The clan Maclean had a feud at the
time with the clan Macian, of Ardnamurchan, immediately opposite
Tobermory harbour, and for some "consideration" or other, Maclean of
Duart, their chief, induced a party of Spanish soldiers to aid him in
attacking his rival. Having revenged himself by the powerful and
unexpected aid of the Spaniards, he failed to implement his bargain with
them, and shortly afterwards, whether through treachery or not is
uncertain, the "Florida" was blown up. The body of a female was washed
on shore and buried in a stone coffin in the consecrated ground of "the
parish." She has ever since been dignified by the name of "the Spanish
Princess."
Again, Oliver Cromwell
sent a ship to the Highlands, commanded by a Captain Forrest, to coerce
some of the rebellious Highland Popish chiefs. This, vessel was wrecked
upon a rock opposite -Duart, and only a few years ago the spot was
examined, in which, according to tradition, Forrest's body was buried,
when human remains were discovered. Some of the guns of the vessel have
also, I believe, been seen.
So much for true history:
[In the year 1740, Spaldin, the diver, was sent by the British
Government to regain some of the treasure which was supposed to have
been sunk in the "Florida." He succeeded only in obtaining ten of the
guns, which are now at Inverary Castle. I myself have a portion of one
of the black oak planks which was raised at the time. Mr Gregory, in his
learned and accurate History of the Highlands, confirms the tradition of
Maclean-of Duart having been instrumental in destroying the "Florida."
He states that Spain, being at that time at peace with Scotland, though
at war with England, demanded reparation for the savage and inhospitable
conduct of Maclean of Duart, and that the records of council in
Edinburgh show that the Highland chief had to confess his guilt and sue
for pardon, as one who had justly forfeited his life.] now for the
Highland myth founded on these facts. It is literally translated from
the ipsissima verba of an old woman.
"In the time that is
gone, the daughter of the King of Spain, in her sleep of the night,
beheld in a dream a -hero so splendid in form and mien, as to fill her
whole heart with love. She knew that he was not of the people of Spain,
but she knew not what his race, his language, or his country was. She
had no rest by day or by night, seeking for the beautiful youth who had
filled her heart, but seeking him in vain. At last she resolved to visit
other lands, and got a ship built—a great ship with three masts, and
with sails as white as the young snow one night old. She went to many
countries and to many lands, and whenever she reached land she invited
all the nobles of the neighbourhood to come on board her great ship. She
entertained them royally. There were feasting, and wine and music, dice
and dancing. All were glad to be her guests, and very many gave her the
love of their hearts ; but among them all she found not her love, the
hero of her bright night-dream, (her whisper.) She went from one harbour
to another—from one kingdom to another. She went to France, and to
England. She went to Ireland and to LochIinn. She went to the 'Green
Isle of the Ocean at the end of the land of the world,' (Scandinavia.)
She made feasting and music wherever she went. Around her all was gaiety
and gladness—the song and the harp—the wine, and the voice of laughter
—hilarity and heartiness, but within her breast all was dark, and cold,
and empty.
"At length, passing by
the land under the wave, (the flat island of Tyree,) she came near the
kingdom of Sorclia, (Ardnamurchan,) and after this to 'Mull of the great
mountains,' to the harbour of all harbours, curved like a bent bow,
sheltered from every wind and every wave. Here the great ship of the
three masts and of the white sails cast her anchor, and here, as in all
other ports, the daughter of the King of Spain sent invitations to all
the nobles of the neighbouring country to visit her on board her ship.
Here many a bold steersman of the Birlinns who quailed not before
ocean's wrath, many a brave swordsman who rejoiced in the field of
slaughter, and many a daring rider who could quell the wildest steed,
with the owner of many a hospitable house whose door was never shut, and
many a leader of numerous hosts who never turned their face from the
foe, came on board the great ship. But all were strangers unto her,
until at length the Lord of Duart, the chief of the numerous, the
warlike, the renowned Macleans, shone upon her sight. Then did her heart
leap with joy, and soon turn to rest in gladness; for he was her vision
of the night, and the desire of her heart, in quest of whom she had
travelled to so many lands.
"It was then that there
was the magnificent and royal entertainment. There was red wine in `cup,
tern, and cuach,' (cup, goblet, and bicker.) There was music of sweetest
sound. Sorrow was laid down, and joy was lifted on high. The daughter of
the King of Spain had a sunbeam in the heart, and brightness in the
countenance. The Lord of Duart was so blinded by her beauty and her
nobleness that he saw not the black gulf before him. He surrendered
himself entirely to her loveliness, and great was the happiness of their
converse. He forgot that in the strong black castle of frowning Duart,
he had left a youthful bride. On board of the great ship days passed
like moments in the midst of enjoyment; but not faster flew the days
than rumour flew to Duart, proclaiming to the forsaken lady of the
castle the unfaithfulness of her lord. The colour left her cheeks, sleep
departed from her eyes, gnawing jealousy entered her heart, and fierce
revenge filled her mind. Often as she turned on her pillow, as often
turned she a new plan in her head for the destruction of her who had
robbed her of her love; but none of these did satisfy her. At long and
at last, (at length and at worst,) she contrived a plan which succeeded
in drawing the Lord of Duart, and him alone, to the land; and, one of
her most attached followers ["Most attached folIower," Colaca-cneais—"coat
of the vast," and Leine chrios—"shirt of the girdle," are the terms used
in Gaelic to denote a thoroughly devoted follower. It was customary of
old, when a lady married beyond her father's clan, as was generally the
case, that she took with her two or more of her family followers, who
always formed a sort of body-guard to her, considering themselves
entirely at her disposal, and at her command were ready to stab husband
or son. Many strange interminglings of names and races have thus arisen.
In the very centre of Lochaber there are several Burkes and Boyles. On
inquiry I found that these had come from Ireland ages ago, as the
followers of an Irish lady, who had married MacDonald of Keppoch. There
the descendants still are.] being on board the "It chanced, shortly
after this, that two young men in Morven, bound in ties of closest
friendship, and freely revealing to one another all that was in their
hearts, began to speak with wonder of the many great secrets of the
world beyond the grave. They spoke, and they spoke of what was doing in
the habitation of the spirits beyond the thick veil that hides the
departed from the friends who sorrow so sorely after them. They could
not see a ray of light --- they could discover nothing. At length they
mutually promised and vowed, that whichever of them was first called
away, would, while engaged in the dread task of Fai1e'Clzlaidh, or,
`Watching of the churchyard,' [This is a curious idea. In many parts of
the Highlands it is believed to this day, that the last person buried
has to perform the duty of sentinel over the churchyard, and that to him
the guardianship of the spirits of those buried before is in some degree
committed. This post he must occupy until a new tenant of the tomb
releases him. It is not esteemed as an enviable position, but one to be
escaped if possible; consequently, if two neighbours die on the same
day, the surviving relatives make great efforts to be first in closing
the grave over their friend. I remember an old nurse, who was mourning
the death of a sweet girl whom she had reared, exclaiming with joy when
she heard, on the day after her funeral, of the death of a parishioner,
" Thank God! my dear darling will have to watch the graves no longer!" A
ludicrous but striking illustration of this strange notion occurred some
years ago in the parish of A—. An old man and an old woman, dwelling in
the same township, but not on terms of friendship—for the lady, Aale
Ruadh, (or red-headed Kate,) was more noted for antipathies than
attachments—were both at the point of death. The good man's friends
began to clip his nails —an office always performed just as a person is
dying. He knowing that his amiable neighbour was, like himself, on the
verge of the grave, roused himself to a last effort, and exclaimed, "
Stop, stop; you know not what use I may have for all my nails, in
compelling Kate Ruadh to keep Farre'Chlaidh, (to watch the churchyard,)
in place of doing it myself!"] tell to the survivor all that he could
reveal regarding the abode of the departed; and here the matter was
left.
"Not long after it fell
out that one of them, full as his bone was of marrow, yielded to the
sway of death. His body, after being carried Deas ilil [Deas iul—" a
turn the right or the south way;" i.e., following the course of the sun.
This is said to be a Druidical practice, followed in many places to this
day. Very recently it was customary in the churchyard of " the parish"
to carry the bier around the stone cross which stands there, and to rest
it for a few minutes at its base before committing the body to the
grave. It is still customary with people, if any food or drink goes
wrong in the throat, to exclaim Deas ru1, apparently as a charm; and
sending the bottle round the table in the course of the sun, is as
common in the south as in the north. The south seems to have been held
in high estimation by the Celts. Thus the right hand is termed the south
hand. The same word is used to signify "the being prepared or ready,"
"the being expert," and "being handsome in person."] (according to the
course of the sun) around the stone cross in the churchyard of Callum
Cille, (Col'umba,) in Morven, and allowed to rest for a time at the foot
of that cross, was laid amid the dust of his kindred. His surviving
comrade, Evan of the Glen, mourned sore for the loss of his friend; and
much awe and fear came upon him as he remembered the engagement made
between them; for now the autumn evening was bending, (or waning,) and
like a stone rolling down a hill is the faint evening of autumn. The
hour of meeting drew nigh, and regard to the sacredness of a promise
made to him who was now in the world of ghosts, as well as regard for
his own courage, decided him to keep the tryst, (meeting.) With
cautious, but firm step he approached the Cill, and looked for his
departed friend, to hear the secrets of the land of ghosts. Quickly as
his heart beat at the thought of meeting the spirit of his friend, he
soon saw what made it quiver like the leaf of the aspen tree. He saw the
gray shade of him who had, at one time, been his friend and his faithful
comrade; but he saw all the `sheeted spectres' of the populous
churchyard moving in mournful procession around the boundary of their
dark abodes, while his friend seemed to lead the dread and shadowy host.
But his eye was soon drawn by the aspect of titter woe presented by one
white form which kept apart from the rest, and moved with pain which
cannot be told. Forgetful of what had brought him to the Cill, he drew
near this sight of woe, and heard a low and most plaintive song, in
which the singer implored the aid of him whose `ship was on the ocean,'
bewailed her miserable condition, in a land of strangers, far from
father and from friends, laid in the grave without due or holy rites,
and thus she moaned
'Worm and beetle, they are
whistling
Through my brain—through my brain;
Imps of darkness, they are shrieking
Through my frame—through my frame.'
"Evan, whose heart was
ever soft and warm towards the unhappy, asked her the cause of her
grief, and whether he could lighten it. She blessed him that he, in the
land of the living, had spoken to her in the land of the dead ; for now
she said she might be freed from evil, and her spirit might rest in
peace.
"She told him that she
was Clara Viola, daughter of the King of Spain. She told him of the
bright
Spain, and though it was
a long way off, he was not long in reaching it. He soon made his way to
the palace of the King of Spain, and that was the palace of many
windows, of many towers, and of many doors, doors which were never
closed—the great house of feasts and of royal hospitality. He was
received with honour. He got the chest full of gold, and the chest full
of silver, and many a reward besides. But when the King of Spain heard
how his beautiful daughter had been treated in Albin, (Scotland,) his
heart swelled with wrath and his face flamed with fury. He ordered his
three strongest and most destructive ships of war to be immediately
fitted out, his three best and bravest captains to command them, to sail
as fast as possible to the three best harbours in Scotland,—one in the
Kyles of Bute, one in the Horse-shoe' of Kerrera, and one in the Bay of
Tobermory, Mull, and there to load them all with the limbs of Scottish
men and of Scottish women.
"One ship did come to
Tobermory Bay, and fearful she looked, as with masts bending, and great
guns roaring, she leaped and bellowed along the Sound of Mull. She was
commanded by Captain Forrest. He was skilful in sailing, fierce in
fighting, and besides had great knowledge of magic, (Druidism.) He spoke
the direst threats against the people of Mull, and said that he would
sweep the island with a bosom—that he would leave it bare.
"The people of Mull were
seized with great fear, and the Lord of Duart, though dreading no
ordinary foe, had many things to move him. He found no rest in his house
or out of it. He sorrowed for the past, and he dreaded what was to come.
Not thinking any human power of avail against the great and deadly
war-ship of Spain, commanded by a man deep in magic, he and his men
sought aid from magic also, (Druidism,) and with effectual spells and
charms, gathered all the witches of Mull, the Doideag an Muileach, to
one meeting-place. He told them of the dire threat of Captain Forrest,
and begged them to raise a wind which would sink his ship, even in the
harbour that was better than any other harbour. The Doideag asked him if
Captain Forrest, when uttering his threat of devastation, had said `With
 |
