Fair Lachlan Of Dervaig

"At the time when Lachlan Kattanach was Chief of MacLean (_ri linn Mhic-’illeathain Lachunn Cattanach na gruaige_), his wife (_a bhantighearna_) dreamt about an Irish chief of the name of William O’Power (?) (_Uilleam O’ buaidh_) and in the same way, at the same time, this Irish Chief dreamt about her. It happened then that they began to communicate with each other. (At that time more trade was carried on with Ireland by these Western Isles than with any other place.) One day MacLean discovered that his wife was keeping on a correspondence, unknown to him, with the Irish Chief, and was much distressed about this injury to his honour. In order to test his wife’s affection for her secret lover, he went to her with a penknife in his hand and said, “There is a present _O’ buaidh_ has sent you.” She looked at the knife and said,

“My darling who sent me the knife
I weary at his delay in coming across the sea,
And may I not enjoy health
If I do love it better than the hand that holds it.”

(M’ eudail ’chuir thugam an sgian
's fhada leam a thriall thar muir,
's na ’n a mheall mi mo shlàint’
Mur docha leam i na’n lamh ’sa bheil).

MacLean was then convinced of his wife’s disgrace, and went away and sent for his kinsman, Fair Lachlan (_Lachunn fionn_) who was then at Hynish, and who, on receiving a message from his Chief, went immediately to Island House. On reaching, MacLean said to him, “I sent for you to go to Ireland; you are a clever man and you have seven sons, go and bring me the head of O’Power, and any crime you may commit, or any injustice you may from this time do to any one, will be over looked by me (_tha thu ’n ad dhuine tapaidh ’s seachdnar mhac agad, falbh ’s thoir g’ am ionnsuidh ceann Uilleam O’ buaidhe ’s aona chron na anaceart sam bith nì thu theid a mhathadh dhuit leamsa_). Next day, _Lachunn fionn_ with his sons set off in the galley, and before sundown he was in Islay. The following day he was in Ireland, and asked the first person he met for the man he was tracing (_a bha e air a luirg_). “If you wish to see him,” the person said, “he is coming this way, in a coach drawn by two white horses, and no one in Ireland has that but himself.” The old man then went on to try and meet him, and after going a short distance he saw him coming towards him to meet him (_chaidh an sean duine air aghaidh feuch an tachradh e air, ’s an ceann ceum na dhà chunnaic e e tighinn ’na choinneamh ’s ’na chòmhail_). When he came near, O’Power (_O’ buaidh_) commanded him to stop, and said, “I see you are a stranger in the place?” “Indeed,” he replied, (_seadh ars’ esan_). “Whence have you come?” the Chief asked, (_Co ás a thàinig thu?_). “I came from Tiree,” he answered. “Do you know the lady of MacLean there?” “I know her well,” he said. “Will you bring her a message from me?” (_An toir thu fios uam g’ a h-ionnsuidh?_) “I will,” he said, (_bheir, ars’ esan_). The chief there and then put the message in order, and put his head out of the coach to deliver it, but the other, while taking it with the one hand, struck off his head with the other hand. (_Sin fhéin chuir e ’n teachdaireachd air doigh ’s chuir e mach a cheann g’ a toirt dà, ’s ’nuair bha e ’ga gabhail leis an aona laimh thilg e dheth an ceann leis an laimh eile_). The man-servant was stupified (lit. went astray), (_chaidh an gille air seacharan_), and Fair Lachlan got an opportunity (_fhuair e fàth_) of taking the head with him to the galley with which he set sail (_leig e ri cuain di_) and was in Islay on his return journey that evening. Next day after (_maireach ’na dheighinn sin_) he was in Tiree, and went early in the day to Island House (_do ’n eilean_). Finding, on reaching, that MacLean and his wife were at breakfast, he went in where they were and put the head of the Irish Chief on the end of the table, with the face towards MacLean’s wife. She looked at it and fell down stone dead at the side of the table (_sheall i air ’s thuit i fuar marbh aig taobh a’ bhùird_). Some time after this Fair Lachlan’s sons were taking peats home from Moss to Hynish. There were five of them with seven horses, which were fastened together, and went on one after another, having a sort of deep basket (_cliabh_) slung on each side of each horse for the conveyance of burdens. On account of Big Dewar of Balemartin, who was so fierce, (_co fiadhaich_) they could not take the straight way by Balemartin to Hynish, but had to take the more rugged path by Hynish hill, where, at _Creag nan cliabh_ (Creel rock) the footpath was so narrow that on these occasions a person was in waiting to be in readiness to take the creels off the horses and carry them past the rock. At that time, there was a mill past Balviceon, with a bridge across the dam which had to be lifted before sundown, and on their way they had to pass across the bridge. It happened on this occasion that the young men, by their own folly (_le ’n amaideachd fhein_), were later than usual of returning, and the bridge was withdrawn; and with the speed with which they were going on, they did not observe that the bridge was lifted, and the foremost of the horses went headlong into the dam and was choked (_air a thachdadh_). The lads made their way home, and told their father how the miller had taken away the bridge, and what had happened to them. He said, “If my horse was choked on his account (_air a thàillibh_), the same thing will be done to him to-night yet”; and that was what happened. He and his sons went back the same way, step by step, (_air a’ cheart cheum_), and they caught the poor man while he was asleep (_rug iad air an duine ’na leabaidh_) and took him with them and hung him on the hillock of the cross (_bac na croiche_), opposite Island House. When a servant went in early next morning to kindle a fire in the room where MacLean was, he asked what sort of day it was. The servant said that it was a good day, but that a strange sight was to be seen (_ni a tha cuir ioghnadh mór orm ri fhaicinn_). “What is that?” the Chief asked. “It is a man hung on the hillock up yonder (_duine air a chrochadh air a’ chroich shuas ud_). MacLean said, as he rose up, “Who or what person dared do this without my permission? (_Co an aona duine ’san dùthaich aig an robh ’chridh leithid so dheanamh gun chuir ’nam cheadsa?_) When he saw the deed that was done, he shed bitter tears, and said that no one had done this but Fair Lachlan (_cha d’ rinn duine riamh so ach Lachunn fionn_). “It was in the agreement I made with him when he brought me the man’s head from Ireland.” This was the last hanging that was done in the island (_b’e so an crochadh mu dheireadh a rinneadh ’s an eilean_)."