Part 3

Here are several additional predictions which have been wholly or partly fulfilled. “The day will come when the Mackenzies will lose all their possessions in Lochalsh, after which it will fall into the hands of an Englishman, who shall be distinguished by great liberality to his people, and lavish expenditure of money. He will have one son and two daughters; and, after his death, the property will revert to the Mathesons, its original possessors, who will build a Castle on Druim-a-Dubh, at Balmacarra.” The late Mr. Lillingstone was an Englishman. He was truly distinguished for kindness and liberality to his tenants, and he had a son and two daughters, although, we are informed, he had been married for seventeen years before he had any family. When he came into possession, old people thought they discerned the fulfilment of a part of Kenneth’s prediction in his person, until it was remarked that he had no family as foretold by the Seer. At last, a son and two daughters were successively born to Mr. Lillingstone. After his death, the son sold the whole of Lochalsh to Alexander Matheson, M.P. for the Counties of Ross and Cromarty, and, so far, the prediction has been realized. A castle has been built at Duncraig, a considerable distance from the spot predicted by the Seer; but if Kenneth is to be depended upon, a castle will yet be built by one of the Mathesons oh Druim-a-Dubh, at Balmacarra. Had this prophecy been got up after the event, the reputation of the Seer would certainly not have been staked on the erection of another castle in the remote future, when the Mathesons already possess such a magnificent mansion at Duncraig.

During a recent visit to the Island of Raasay we received a peculiar prediction regarding the Macleods from an old man there, over eighty years of age, who remembered seven proprietors of Raasay, and who sorely lamented the fulfilment of the prophecy, and the decline of the good old stock, entirely in consequence of their own folly and extravagance. Since then, we had the prediction repeated by a Kintail man in identical terms; and as it is hardly translatable, we shall give it in the original vernacular:—“Dar a thig Mac-Dhomhnuill Duibh bàn; MacShimidh ceann-dearg; Sisealach claon ruadh; Mac-Coinnich mor bodhar; agus Mac-Gille-challum cama-chasach, iar-ogha Ian bhig à Ruiga, ’se sin a Mac-Gille-challum is miosa ’thainig na thig; cha bhi mi ann ri linn, ’s cha’n fhearr leam air a bhith.” (When we shall have a fair-haired Lochiel; a red-haired Lovat; a squint-eyed, fair-haired Chisholm; a big deaf Mackenzie; and a bow-crooked-legged Mac-Gille-challum, who shall be the great-grand-son of John Beg, or little John, of Ruiga: that Mac-Gille-challum will be the worst that ever came or ever will come; I shall not be in existence in his day, and I have no desire that I should.) Ruiga is the name of a place in Skye. When the last Macleod of Raasay was born, an old sage in the district called upon his neighbour, and told him, with an expression of great sorrow, that Mac-Gille-challum of Raasay now had an heir, and his birth was a certain forerunner of the extinction of his house. Such an event as the birth of an heir had been hitherto, in this as in all other Highland families, universally considered an occasion for great rejoicing among the retainers. The other old man was amazed, and asked the sage what he meant by such unusual and disloyal remarks. “Oh!” answered he, “do you not know that this is the grand-grandson of John Beg of Ruiga whom Coinneach Odhar predicted would be the worst of his race.” And so he undoubtedly proved himself to be, for he lost for ever the ancient inheritance of his house, and acted generally in such a manner as to fully justify the Seer’s prediction; and what is still more remarkable, the Highland lairds, with the peculiar characteristics and malformations foretold by Kenneth, preceded or were the contemporaries of the last MacGille-challum of Raasay.

Here is a prediction of the downfall of another distinguished Highland family—Clan Ranald of the Isles. “The day will come when the old wife with the footless stocking (cailleach nam mogan) will drive the Lady of Clan Ranald from Nunton House, in Benbecula.” We are informed that this was fulfilled when the Macdonalds took the farm of Nunton, locally known as “Baile na Caillich”. Old Mrs. Macdonald was in the habit of wearing these primitive articles of dress, and was generally known in the district as “Cailleach nam Mogan”. Clan Ranald and his lady, like many more of our Highland chiefs, ultimately went to the wall, and the descendants of the “old wife with the footless stocking” occupied, and, for anything we know, still occupy the ancient residence of the long-distinguished race of Clan Ranald of the Isles.

In the beginning of the seventeenth century, and during the Seer’s lifetime, there lived in Kintail an old man—Duncan Macrae—who was curious to know by what means he should end his days. He applied to a local female Seer, who informed him that he “would die by the sword” (le bàs a chlaidheamh). This appeared so improbable in the case of such an old man, who had taken part in so many bloody frays and invariably escaped unhurt, that the matter was referred to the greater authority, Coinneach Odhar. He corroborated the woman, but still the matter was almost universally discredited in the district, and by none more so than by old Duncan himself. However, years after, conviction was forced upon them; for, according to the “Genealogy of the Macraes,” written by the Rev. John Macrae, minister of Dingwall, who died in 1704—“Duncan being an old man in the year 1654, when General Monk, afterwards Duke of Albemarle, came to Kintail, retired from his house in Glenshiel to the hills, where, being found by some of the soldiers who had straggled from the body of the army in hopes of plunder, and who, speaking to him roughly, in a language he did not understand, he, like Old Orimanus, drew his sword, &c., and was immediately killed by them. This was all the blood that General Monk or his soldiers, amounting to 1500 men, had drawn, and all the opposition he met with, although the Earl of Middleton and Sir George Monro were within a few miles of them, and advertised of their coming, Seaforth having been sent by Middleton to the Isle of Skye and parts adjoining, to treat with the Macdonalds and the Macleods, &c.”

Regarding the evictions which would take place in the Parish of Petty, he said, “The day will come, and it is not far off, when farm-steadings will be so few and far between, that the crow of a cock shall not be heard from the one steading to the other”. This prediction has certainly been fulfilled, for, in the days of the Seer there were no fewer than sixteen tenants on the farm of Morayston alone.

On the south of the bay, at Petty, is an immense stone, of at least eight tons weight, which formerly marked the boundary between the estates of Culloden and Moray. On the 20th of February, 1799, it was mysteriously removed from its former position, and carried about 260 yards into the sea. It is supposed by some that this was brought about by an earthquake; others think that the stone was carried off by the action of ice, combined with the influence of a tremendous hurricane, which blew from the shore, during that fearful and stormy night. It was currently reported, and pretty generally believed at the time, that his Satanic Majesty had a finger in this work. Be that as it may, there is no doubt whatever that the Brahan Seer predicted “that the day will come when the Stone of Petty, large though it is, and high and dry upon the land as it appears to people this day, will be suddenly found as far advanced into the sea as it now lies away from it inland, and no one will see it removed, or be able to account for its sudden and marvellous transportation”.

The Seer was at one time in the Culloden district on some important business. While passing over what is now so well known as the Battlefield of Culloden, he exclaimed, “Oh! Drummossie, thy bleak moor shall, ere many generations have passed away, be stained with the best blood of the Highlands. Glad am I that I will not see that day, for it will be a fearful period; heads will be lopped off by the score, and no mercy will be shown or quarter given on either side.” It is perhaps unnecessary to point out how literally this prophecy has been fulfilled on the occasion of the last battle fought on British soil. We have received several other versions of it from different parts of the country, almost all in identical terms.

“The time will come when whisky or dram shops will be so plentiful that one may be met with almost at the head of every plough furrow.” (Thig an latha ’s am bi tighean-oil cho lionmhor ’s nach mor nach fhaicear tigh-osda aig ceann gach claise.) “Policemen will become so numerous in every town that they may be met with at the corner of every street.” “Travelling merchants” [pedlars and hawkers] “will be so plentiful that a person can scarcely walk a mile on the public highway without meeting one of them.”

The following is from “A Summer in Skye,” by the late Alex. Smith, author of “A Life Drama”. Describing Dunvegan Castle and its surroundings, he says:—“Dun Kenneth’s prophecy has come to pass—‘In the days of Norman, son of the third Norman, there will be a noise in the doors of the people, and wailing in the house of the widow; and Macleod will not have so many gentlemen of his name as will row a five-oared boat round the Maidens’. If the last trumpet had been sounded at the end of the French war, no one but a Macleod would have risen out of the churchyard of Dunvegan. If you want to see a chief (of the Macleods) now-a-days you must go to London for him.” There can be no question as to these having been fulfilled to the letter.

“The day will come when a fox will rear a litter of cubs on the hearthstone of Castle Downie.” “The day will come when a fox, white as snow, will be killed on the west coast of Sutherlandshire.” “The day will come when a wild deer will be caught alive at Chanonry Point, in the Black Isle.” All these things have come to pass.

With respect to the clearances in Lewis, he said—“Many a long waste feannag (rig, once arable) will yet be seen between Uig of the Mountains and Ness of the Plains.” That this prediction has been fulfilled to the letter, no one acquainted with the country will deny.

The following would appear to have been made solely on account of the unlikelihood of the occurrence:—“A Lochalsh woman shall weep over the grave of a Frenchman in the burying-place of Lochalsh.” People imagined they could discern in this an allusion to some battle on the West Coast, in which French troops would be engaged; but there was an occurrence which gave it a very different interpretation. A native of Lochalsh married a French footman, who died, shortly after this event, and was interred in the burying-ground of Lochalsh, thus leaving his widow to mourn over his grave. This may appear a commonplace matter enough, but it must be remembered that a Frenchman in Lochalsh, and especially a Frenchman whom a Highland woman would mourn over, in Coinneach’s day, was a very different phenomenon to what it is in our days of railways, tourists, and steamboats.

The Seer also predicted the formation of a railway through the Muir of Ord, handed down in the following stanza:—

Nuair a bhios da eaglais an Sgire na Toiseachd, A’s lamh da ordaig an I-Stian’, Da dhrochaid aig Sguideal nan geocaire, As fear da imleag an Dunean, Thig Miltearan a Carn a-chlarsair, Air Carbad gun each gun srian, A dh-fhagas am Blar-dubh na fhasach, ’Dortadh fuil le iomadh sgian; A’s olaidh am fitheach a thri saitheachd De dh-fhuil nan Gaidheal, bho clach nam Fionn.

Here is a literal translation:—

When there shall be two churches in the Parish of Ferrintosh, And a hand with two thumbs in ‘I-Stiana,’ Two bridges at “Sguideal” (Conon) of the gormandizers, And a man with two navels at Dunean, Soldiers will come from “Carn a Chlarsair” (Tarradale) On a chariot without horse or bridle, Which will leave the “Blar-dubh” (Muir of Ord) a wilderness, Spilling blood with many knives; And the raven shall drink his three fulls Of the blood of the Gael from the Stone of Fionn.

We already have two churches in the Parish of Ferrintosh, two bridges at Conon, and we are told by an eye-witness, that there is actually at this very time a man with two thumbs on each hand in “I-Stiana,” in the Black Isle, and a man in the neighbourhood of Dunean who has two navels. The “chariot without horse or bridle” is undoubtedly the “iron horse”. What particular event the latter part of the prediction refers to, it is impossible to say; but if we are to have any faith in the Seer, something serious is looming not very remotely in the future.

Mr. Macintyre supplies the following, which is clearly a fragment of the one above given:—Coinneach Odhar foresaw the formation of a railway through the Muir of Ord which he said “would be a sign of calamitous times”. The prophecy regarding this is handed down to us in the following form:—“I would not like to live when a black bridleless horse shall pass through the Muir of Ord.” “Fearchair a Ghunna” (Farquhar of the Gun, an idiotic simpleton who lived during the latter part of his extraordinary life on the Muir of Tarradale) seems, in his own quaint way, to have entered into the spirit of this prophecy, when he compared the train, as it first passed through the district, to the funeral of “Old Nick”. Tradition gives another version, viz.:—“that after four successive dry summers, a fiery chariot shall pass through the ‘Blar Dubh,’” which has been very literally fulfilled. Coinneach Odhar was not the only person that had a view beforehand of this railway line, for it is commonly reported that a man residing in the neighbourhood of Beauly, gifted with second-sight, had a vision of the train, moving along in all its headlong speed, when he was on his way home one dark autumn night, several years before the question of forming a railway in those parts was mooted.

Here are two other Gaelic stanzas having undoubted reference to the Mackenzies of Rosehaugh:—

Bheir Tanaistear Chlann Choinnich Rocus _bàn_ ás a choille; ’S bheir e ceile bho tigh-ciuil Le a mhuinntir ’na aghaidh; ’S gum bi’ n Tanaistear mor Ann an gniomh ’s an ceann-labhairt, ’Nuair bhios am Pap’ anns an Roimh Air a thilgeadh dheth chathair,

Thall fa chomhar Creag-a-Chodh Comhnuichidh taillear caol odhar; ’S Seumas gorach mar thighearn, ’S Seumas glic mar fhear tomhais— A mharcaicheas gun srian Air loth fhiadhaich a roghainn; Ach cuiridh mor-chuis gun chiall ’N aite siol nam fiadh siol nan gobhar; ’S tuitidh an t-Eilean-dubh briagha Fuidh riaghladh iasgairean Aŭch.

Literal translation:—

The heir (or chief) of the Mackenzies will take A _white_ rook out of the wood, And will take a wife from a music house (dancing saloon), With his people against him: And the heir will be great In deeds and as an orator, When the Pope in Rome Will be thrown off his throne.

Over opposite _Creag-a-Chow_ Will dwell a diminutive lean tailor, Also Foolish James as the laird, And Wise James as a measurer. Who will ride without a bridle The wild colt of his choice; But foolish pride without sense Will put in the place of the seed of the deer the seed of the goat; And the beautiful Black Isle will fall Under the management of the fishermen of Avoch.

We have not learnt that any of the Rosehaugh Mackenzies has yet taken a _white_ rook from the woods; nor have we heard anything suggested as to what this part of the prophecy may refer to. We are, however, credibly informed that one of the late Mackenzies of Rosehaugh had taken his wife from a music saloon in one of our southern cities, and that his people were very much against him for so doing. One of them, Sir George, no doubt was “great in deeds and as an orator,” but we fail to discover any connection between the time in which he lived and the time “when the Pope in Rome will be thrown off his throne”. We were unable in the first edition to suggest the meaning of the first six lines of the last stanza, but Mr. Maclennan supplies us with the following explanation:—“I have been hearing these lines discussed since I was a boy, and being a native of Rosehaugh, I took a special interest in everything concerning it. The first two lines I was repeatedly informed, referred to a pious man who lived on the estate of Bennetsfield, opposite Craigiehow, when ‘Seumas Gorach’ (Foolish James referred to in the third line), was proprietor of Rosehaugh. This godly man, who was contemporary with Foolish James, often warned him of his end, and predicted his fate if he did not mend his ways; and as he thus _cut_ his bounds for him, he is supposed to be the ‘diminutive lean tailor’. He is still in life. We all knew ‘Foolish James’. The fourth line refers to James Maclaren, who lived at Rosehaugh most of the time during which the last two Mackenzies ruled over it, and only died two years ago. He was an odd character, but a very straightforward man; often rebuked ‘Foolish James’ for the reckless and fearless manner in which he rode about, and set bounds before the ‘foolish laird,’ which he was not allowed to pass. Maclaren was, on that account, believed to be the ‘measurer’ referred to by the Seer. The fifth and sixth lines are supposed to apply to the wife fancied by Mackenzie in a ‘dancing saloon,’ who was always considered the ‘wild colt,’ at whose instigation he rode so recklessly and foolishly.” We wish the realizations of our prophet’s predictions in this case were a little less fanciful.

Those in the seventh and eighth lines have been most literally fulfilled, for there can be no doubt that “foolish pride without sense” has brought about what the Seer predicted, and secured, for the present at least, the seed of the goat where the seed of the deer used to rule. The deer, and the deer’s horns, as is well known, are the armorial bearings of the Mackenzies, while the goat is that of the Fletchers, who now rule in Rosehaugh, on the ruins of its once great and famous “Cabair-feidh”.

Part of the beautiful Black Isle has already fallen under the management of the son of a fisherman of Avoch; and who knows but other fishermen from that humble village may yet amass sufficient wealth to buy the whole. The old proprietors, we regret, are rapidly making way with their “foolish pride without sense,” for some one to purchase it.

We are informed that the present proprietor of Rosehaugh is the son of an Avoch fisherman—the son of a Mr. Jack, who followed that honourable avocation in this humble village for many years; afterwards left the place and went to reside in Elgin, where he commenced business as a small general dealer, or “huckster”; that some of the boys—his sons—exhibited a peculiar smartness while in school; that this was noticed by a lady relative of their mother, an aunt, of the name of Fletcher, who encouraged and helped on the education of the boys, and who took one or more of them to her own home, and brought them up; afterwards they found their way south, and ultimately became successful merchants and landed proprietors.[1] These are facts of which we were entirely ignorant when first writing down the stanzas already given. The verses were sent to us from various quarters, and they have undoubtedly been floating about the country for generations. So much for the Seer’s prophetic power in this instance. Were we better acquainted with the history of the other families referred to in the stanzas, it is probable that more light could be thrown upon what they refer to than we are at present able to do.

While we are dealing with the “wonderful” in connection with the House of Rosehaugh, it may not be out of place to give a few instances of the somewhat extraordinary experiences of the famous Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh already referred to. He was one of the most distinguished members of the Scottish Bar, was Lord-Advocate for Scotland in the reign of Charles the Second, and was, indeed, a contemporary of the Brahan Seer. His “Institutes” are still considered a standing authority by the legal profession:—On one occasion, while at Rosehaugh, a poor widow from a neighbouring estate called to consult him regarding her being repeatedly warned to remove from a small croft which she held under a lease of several years; but as some time had yet to run before its expiry, and being threatened with summary ejection from the croft, she went to solicit his advice. Having examined the tenor of the lease, Sir George informed her that it contained a flaw, which, in case of opposition, would render her success exceedingly doubtful; and although it was certainly an oppressive act to deprive her of her croft, he thought her best plan was to submit. However, seeing the distressed state of mind in which the poor woman was on hearing his opinion, he desired her to call upon him the following day, when he would consider her case more carefully. His clerk, who always slept in the same room as his lordship, was not a little surprised, about midnight, to discover him rising from his bed fast asleep, lighting a candle which stood on his table, drawing in his chair, and commencing to write very busily, as if he had been all the time wide awake. The clerk saw how he was employed, but he never spoke a word, and, when he had finished, he saw him place what he had written in his private desk, locking it, extinguishing the candle, and then retiring to bed as if nothing had happened. Next morning at breakfast, Sir George remarked that he had had a very strange dream about the poor widow’s threatened ejectment, which, he could now remember, and he had now no doubt of making out a clear case in her favour. His clerk rose from the table, asked for the key of his desk, and brought therefrom several pages of manuscript; and, as he handed them to Sir George, enquired—“Is that like your dream?” On looking over it for a few seconds, Sir George said, “Dear me, this is singular; this is my very dream!” He was no less surprised when his clerk informed him of the manner in which he had acted; and, sending for the widow, he told her what steps to adopt to frustrate the efforts of her oppressors. Acting on the counsel thus given, the poor widow was ultimately successful, and, with her young family, was allowed to remain in possession of her “wee bit croftie” without molestation.

Sir George principally resided at this time in Edinburgh, and, before dinner, invariably walked for half-an-hour. The place he selected for this was Leith Walk, then almost a solitary place. One day, while taking his accustomed exercise, he was met by a venerable-looking, grey-headed old gentleman, who accosted him and, without introduction or apology, said—“There is a very important case to come off in London fourteen days hence, at which your presence will be required. It is a case of heirship to a very extensive estate in the neighbourhood of London, and a pretended claimant is doing his utmost to disinherit the real heir, on the ground of his inability to produce proper titles thereto. It is necessary that you be there on the day mentioned; and in one of the attics of the mansion-house on the estate there is an old oak chest with two bottoms; between these you will find the necessary titles, written on parchment.” Having given this information, the old man disappeared, leaving Sir George quite bewildered; but the latter, resuming his walk, soon recovered his previous equanimity, and thought nothing further of the matter.