thaitinn an larach ri na Cambeullaich, 's b-fheudar do "Dhunnachadh Dubh na Curaice," Caisteal a Bheallaich a thogail aig ceann Loch ta, Bho so chi sinn nach robh na Finneachan Gaidhealach gun chomhairle na 'n ceann fein. Bha na tighearnan ag earbsa as an t-slaugh agus an slaugh earbsach as na tighearnan, fhad sa chitheadh iad ceartas a dol air adhart. Ach bha na Gaidheil laidir, daingean n' am beachd fein. Mar dhearbhadh air so, seall mar rinn iad am bliadhna Thearlaich air tighearna Ghrannd. Thionail e aona-ceud-deug fear, 's dh-iarr e orra eiridh le Diuchd Uilleam; cha do fhreagair duine ach naodhnar as a cheud e. Air an aon doigh, thionail Mac Leoid mile fear mu Chaisteal Dhunbheagan, 's cha do lean e fein agus Diuchd Uilleam ach an coigeamh earrainn de chuid daoine. Chuir Diuchd Athul, agus Morair Bhraidalba an cuid daoine cruinn, ach an deamhan aona mhac maithir idir a fhuair an Diuchd na 'n t Iarla a leigeadh urachar na bhuaileadh buille an aghaidh Phrionns' Tearlach. Sin agaibh lan dearbhadh air gu'n robh na Gaidheil saor-inntinneach nuair thigeadh a chuis gu h-aon sa dha. Cha do shoillsich a ghrian air daoine na bu dilse na Gaidheil Alba. Na 'm bidh dearbhadh bhuainn air so, dh'fhonadh dhuinn cuimhneachadh mar leum fear an deigh fear do sheachdnar bhraithrean a dol eadar Mac Illean agus saighdean a naimhdean ann am blar Inbhir-cheithinn. Latha Raonruari leum a bhrathair-altrum eadar an Ridire Eoghain Camaran Lochial 's fear-bogha bha deanamh cuimse air an Ridire; char an t-saighead na chridhe fein, ach thearruinn e beatha 'n Ridire. La na Maoile-ruaidhe am braidhe-Lochabar leum an t-aireach-mor eadar fear-na-Ceapaich agus na naimhdean bha 'n comhar a bheatha a thoirt dheth. Dh'fhaodainn moran innse de leithid so, ach bha na Gaidheil cho dileas ann 's gach doigh eile sa bha iad an teas a bhlair. An deigh la na dunach air sliabh Chuilodair bha airgiod cheann air a thairgse a iomadh fear, 's deich mile fichead air a thairgse a run an t-sluaigh, Prionns' Tearrlach. Tha fios agaibh uile ged a thairgeadh iad deich mile fichead millian punnd Sassunnach nach robh duine air Gaeltachd na h-Alba ghabhadh e. Thairg iad mile punnd Sassunnach a ceann tighearna Chluani. 'S cha robh duine na gille 'm Baideanach aig nach robh fios gun robh e na dhuthaich fein. Thug muinntir Bhaideanach an aire mhath air fad na 'n naoi bliadhna bha e fo 'n choille. Char e sin do 'n Fhraing 's dh-eug e goirid an deigh dha dhol thairis. Theagamh gun can fear-eigin gur "dan mar dhurachd" a bhi seinn cliu nan Gaidheal, 's gu'n cuir e mar cheisd, an robh droch dhuine riamh na 'm measg ? 'S fheudar aideachadh g'un robh aon salachar dhuine an Asuinn mu thuath a bhrath an deadh shaighdear, 's an deadh cheannard Montrose. Mar dhuais, fhuair e luchd luinge do mhin bhreoite 's thubhairt Ian Lom Marbh-phasg ort a mhi-mheis 'S da thrian di goirt. Bha mile punnd Sassunnach air ceann Mhic Shimidh; 's gu bhi cinnteach gun glacadh iad e chuir iad feachd de na saighdearan dearga air Blarna-Coinlich, feachd eil aig Bail-a-gheta, feachd eile air an Roan-fhearna aig Struidh; agus feachd eil air Lon-bhrodhlainn, a chum 's gum faigheadh iad e ma bha e aon chuid air an talamh no fodha. Chuairtaich iad oighreachd Mhic Shimidh eadar ard as iosal le saighdearan dearga. Cambeullach dubh bha na cheannard air feachd Lon-bhrodhlainn. So am fear ris an d'thuirt Mac Mhaighistir Alastair Cambeullach dubh Earraghael Mac a mhurtair, odha mhearlaich, 'S bhiodh e 'm pairt ri mearlaich a chruidh. Ge'd bha e dubh, cha robh e gun iochd 's gun bhaidh ri muinntir nau gleann. Bha duine bha fuathasach neo-mhaitheach agus neo-threocaireach air cheann na 'm feachdan eile eadar talamh Mhic Shimidh agus Inbhirnis. 'S e Maidsear Logard a b-ainm dha 'n duine-so, agus a reir sgeoil bha e na chreachadar 's na chuis-fheagail do shluagh na Gaidhealtachd. Thuirt bean uasal bho 'n tug e an crodh— Tha crodh agam an Sassund, 'S tha iad an glasadh a 'm Pairce, Bha dithis mhac do'n t-Siosalach Ghlaiseach na 'n Ofigich fodh 'n duine-so; la de na lathaichean dh-iarr e air an dithis dhaoine-so a bhi ullaimh sa mhaduim am maireach gu dhol a losgadh Caisteal agus duthaich an athair. Char iad a ghabhail lethsgeul an athair, ach bhagair e air falbh as fhianuis iad. Mu chiarachdainn na 'n trath thainig dearcag ghlas ris an canair am bitheantas peilear, 's ghabh an grainne-so rathad direach triomh chom, 's thug e an t-olc 's an t-anam comhla a corp Logard ; agus cha deach duthaich an t-Siosalaich a losgadh fhathasd. Thug Mac Shimidh Morthir air. Thug iad an aire fad uine ann sa Mhorthir aige fein air; ach mar a bha cham-chomhail air chaidh e thairis air LochMorair agus ghabh e tuinid ann an cos seann chraobh mhor a thuit tarsainn air allt ris an canar Allt-a-bhearraidh. Bha 's an am ann a Meobul Dh'fheudainn trusdar air an robh Iain mac Raild mhic Lachlain fhine innse, ach ge 'd a dh' innseadh, tha fhios "Nach eil coille gun a crionaich 's nach eil fine gun a diabhail." Bhrath am fear so an seann duine agus fhuair e an t-airgiod cinn; 's bha e fein agus Uistean a mhac 'n an daoine mora fhad 'sa mhair an t-airgiod-fola; ach, nuair a dh'eug Uistean, b' fheudar do na coimhearsnaich a thiolaigeadh air an cosg fein; 's cha 'n eil duine beo an diugh de 'n dream do 'n robh e ach aon duine a tha mu dheas, Chum am Bard air chuimhne gun robh oillt aig muinntir na duthcha roimh 'n bhrathadair agus a shliochd, Cha chluinn sinn aca mar cheol cluaise Ach a moladh uaisle 'n athair, Am fear a reic an conspunn rioghal Nuair a bha oighreachd an t-Sruthain an lamhan a Chruin chuir dubhlachd a gheamhraidh an Seardsan Mor, Iain-Dubh Camaran, a ghabhail cuid na h-oidhche an tigh drochairt a bhrath e; 's cha do sheas cuid no daoine dha an deigh sin. Bho latha Iudas gu so cha d'eirich gu math do'n fhear-bhratha. Ann an tri-fichead bliadhna sa ceithir thogadh tri-deug'-ar-fhichead do reiseamaidean an Gaidhealtachd Alba. Tha e air innse dhuinn le luchd eachdraidh gu 'n do thogadh da-mhile dheug agus coig ceud fear dhiubh sin mu thuath air Peairt, agus sin uile ann an aon ochd-mhiosan-deug. Co meud a thogadh iad a 'n diugh feadh nan Garbh-chrioch? Ged' a chuireadh iad an ceannard is foghuintiche fo 'n Chrun an diugh a thogail dhaoine, cha 'n eil duil agamsa gu'm b'urrainn tighearnan na Gaidhealtachd gu leir aon reiseamaid a chur ri cheile. Cha 'n eil daoine ann; tha chuid mhor de 'n talamh na fhasaichean aig fiadh-bhiastan an achaidh, agus a reir coltas tha cuid de na daoine fhuair an talamh air chumhnant bhi na 'n cul-taice dha 'n t-slaugh ro dheonach an sgriobadh as an rathad buileach glan. The Chief at this stage had to leave the meeting, and his place was taken, amid cheers, by Captain MacRa Chisholm, Glassburn, a previous chief of the Society. During the usual interval of ten minutes, Pipemajor Ronald Mackenzie delighted the audience with the (Highland) soulstirring strains of his bagpipes, fingered in a most masterly and perfect manner. More music-Gaelic and English solos and part-songs-followed, when The Rev. ALEXANDER MACGREGOR, M.A., brought an exceedingly successful meeting to a close by proposing a hearty vote of thanks to the Chief of the Society in the following appropriate terms, and amidst the general cheering of the audience:-He had no doubt they would all join him in according a very hearty vote of thanks to the Chief of the Society, Dr Maclauchlan (cheers)-who had given them such a splendid address, and such an interesting account of the many dialects comprised in the term Celtic. (Loud applause.) He, however, could not do justice to himself or to his subject in that effeminate language (English)--(laughter and cheers)—and would have to turn to his own forcible Gaelic. (Cheers.) He then went on to say in that language how much they were all indebted to Dr Maclauchlan for coming so far to do his duty as Chief of the Society, and congratulated him on the excellent manner in which he did it. He expressed his regret that their veteran friend, Professor Blackie, found himself at the last moment unable to join them-(cheers)—and so left a conspicuous blank in their programme. In his letter of apology for nonattendance, Professor Blackie referred to the present position of the Celtic Chair. In connection with his achievements in making the Chair a success, the Professor deserved their most hearty congratulations. (Loud cheers.) A Chair of the Celtic languages would soon be an established fact in the University of Edinburgh, and he (Mr Macgregor) was only giving expression to a feeling almost unanimous among educated Highlanders when he said that the Professor and those associated with him could not do better than confer the Professorship, in his old age, upon the Chief of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, the venerable Dr Maclauchlan-(loud cheers) -who had done so much real service in the Celtic field already as to make them all feel that the Chair should be at least offered to him. (Cheers.) He was sorry Dr Maclauchlan had to leave them so early, but they had another excellent Celt, Captain Chisholm, a previous Chief of the Society to take his place. (Cheers.) They were also indebted to him for his present services, as well as for many which had gone before. (Cheers.) MONUMENT TO MR ANGUS MACDONALD. DURING a recent visit to the glorious glen of Urquhart we sauntered into the churchyard, and was gratified to find a very neat headstone, with an appropriate inscription, with all the appearance of having been recently erected, in memory of the late Angus Macdonald, known as the GlenUrquhart Gaelic Bard, and especially, during the last few years of his life, as the first Bard of the Gaelic Society of Inverness. The stone is about six feet in height, unpretentious and neat, and such as we could fancy the old bard himself would have chosen if he had any voice in the matter. Especially would he be gratified to find himself buried, among his ancestors and more immediate relations, in a pretty, square, grassy plot, levelled and railed in from the neglected-disgracefully neglectedsurroundings. In each corner within the neat railing are planted fine yews, while at the foot of the grave luxuriates a very pretty white heath. The inscription, composed by Mrs Mackenzie, the bard's daughter, herself inheriting no small share of her father's talents, is as follows:DIED 9TH SEPTEMBER, 1874, ANGUS WILLIAM MACDONALD, GLEN-URQUHART, FIRST BARD OF THE GAELIC SOCIETY OF INVERNESS. Kind-hearted and talented, Loved and lamented; A true Highlander, With more than ordinary love For his country and countrymen. He that is without any Let him cast a stone At him. I loved him well; He was my father; And sacred to his memory These words are penned By her he loved best, With the hope that at rest His righteous judge. On the other side of the monument is an appropriate inscription in memory of the bard's father, John Macdonald, the famous catechist. But The memorial is creditable to the feeling and good taste of the late bard's son-in-law-Mr Alexander Mackenzie, merchant, Church Street, Inverness, at whose expense, we understand, it has been erected. he has it in his power to do more than this. He should at once proceed to give the bard's works to the Celtic world. Macdonald composed numerous pieces of great merit, and he left most of them, in MS., available for publication. Two highly meritorious compositions-his "Lament for Lord Clyde" and his "Highlanders in the Crimea "—were printed in the first volume of the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, but these are by no means his best, We had, on a recent occasion, the pleasure of perusing several of them in MS., and we have no hesitation in saying that Mr and Mrs Mackenzie will fail in their duty, not only to the memory of the bard, but to the whole Gaelic-reading public, unless they take early steps to give his poems to the world in a permanent form. 1 FARMS INDEED! AND SOULS TO MATCH. WE extract the following account of Mammoth farms, and fine Highland patriotism, from a letter just received from a native of Wester Ross, who has been able, to all appearance, to butter his bread pretty thickly in South Australia. The letter was none the less interesting that it contained a P.O.O. for £10 to pay for several of the best Celtic works in circulation, ordered by the writer. Describing his own farm and that of a friend, he says:- "Our run is a great deal longer than the county of Inverness. There is plenty of land here for poor Highlanders to settle on, and you are, I have no doubt, aware that our land laws are the most liberal of all the Australian colonies. I had a letter the other day from a friend, a native of Kenlochewe, informing me that he was after buying a large farm of ninety thousand and sixty-five (90,065) acres. He has other two farms besides. Last year he reaped one thousand acres of wheat, yet twenty-five years ago he came to this country quite poor." The writer then proceeds-"Accept the heartfelt thanks of a Highlander from home, who dearly loves his native country, for your eloquent speech at the Annual Dinner of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, in defence of the language and literature and the character of the Highlanders against the sweeping, ungenerous, and unfounded charges made against them by Inspector Ross and others. You handled the subject well, and left the great Ross without a leg to stand upon, or rather, you swept away the cumbrous aud twisted stilts on which he supported himself, and you brought him down to the level of common mortals-indeed, far beneath them in the opinion of all true-hearted Highlanders. It's a foul bird that defiles his own nest, and this scholastic philosopher has done so to a most damaging degree When as a philosopher he sprung Like a mushroom from the dung, His poisoned shafts with vengeance flung At the Gael's head. For such a deed he should be hung Until dead, dead. That is my wish for all electro-plated Saxons. The genuine Saxon is a noble fellow, but the would-bes' are a mean, base, contemptible lot, whether of Irish or Scottish origin; the unnatural animals have always the same peculiarities." Our friend adds, after a bit of genuine Gaelic, the following postscript: Excuse this scribbling blundering letter, Before the sun sinks in the deep, We must run through ten thousand sheep, Ready to start them for the fair. To me the task is not quite easy, With hands so grimy, black, and greasy, Indite a letter, and watch my men. |