Pricking the pomposity of
overbearing English nobles or gentlemen seems to have had quite a long pedigree
in Gaelic tradition. After all, what culture does not like to get one over the “old
enemy”, especially if it involved winning a substantial wager. The following
historical anecdote was recorded by Calum Maclean from the recitation of John MacDonald of Highbridge, Brae Lochaber, and transcribed shortly
afterwards on the 21st of January 1951:
COINNLEIREAN NA CEAPAICH
Bha Dòmhnallach na Ceapaich a-mach ann an Lunnainn a’
coimhead air fìor dhuine uasal. Agus
anns an àm san robh e an sin gu dè thàinig a-mach ach coinnleirean sònraichte.
Agus bha iad gu math daor anns an àm agus iad eireachdail cuideachd. Agus bha
coinnlear aig gach ceann den bhòrd agus iad gam moladh. Agus thuirt e:
“Chan eil coinnlear agad-sa nad dhùthaich fhèin cho
brèagha sin.”
“Tha agus fada nas fheàrr na sin na coinnleirean.”
“Tha mi a’ gabhail iongantas,” thuirt e. “Chan eil fad on
a thàinig na coinnleirean seo a-mach idir,” thuirt e.
“Ma-tà, beataidh iad iad,” thuirt e, “an fheadhainn a th’
agam-sa, na coinnleirean sin.”
Chaidh geall mòr a chur air – ceud not. Chaidh an geall a
chur. Cha robh fhios aig Fear na Ceapaich, cha robh e airson a ligeil fhaicinn
gun robh e idir cho fada air ais, ged a thuirt e siud. Ach chaidh e a
dh’ionnsaigh caraide an dèidh dhà tighinn dachaigh. Agus bha an duine uasal a
bh’ ann an Sasann a’ dol a thighinn a choimhead air an ceann sia seachdain:
“O! tha mi an deaghaidh,” thuirt e, “mearachd glè mhòr a
dhèanadh,” thuirt e, Fear na Ceapaich.
“A bheil?” thuirt e an coimhearsnach aige ris. “Dè tha
sin?”
Dh’innis e mar a bha mu dheidhinn nan coinnleirean:
“Agus chuir mi an geall ceud not,” thuirt e, “gun robh
coinnleirean na b’ fheàrr agam. Agus sin nach eil agam.”
“O! ge-tà, tha. Innsidh mise dhut dè nì sinn,” thuirt e.
“Dè nì mi?” thuirt e.
“Cuiridh sibh dìreach an dà ghille is gasda ann an Loch
Abar fo èididh Ghàidhealach agus fear aig gach ceann den bhòrd agus lias mhòr
giuthas aige na làmh. Agus mura dèan sinn soillseachadh air bòrd,” thuirt e,
“dar a bhios sibh a’ gabhail nar biadh agus ma tha coinnleirean Shasainn
coltach ris na gillean a tha sin aig ceann a’ bhùird, tha mi a’ gabhail
fìor-iongantas.”
’S ann mar seo a bha. Thàinig an duine-uasal. Cha robh e
a’ faicinn coltas coinnleirean na nitheann. Ach dar a thàinig am biadh an
àirde, thàinig an dithist a bha seo a-staigh agus sheas iad aig ceann a’ bhùird
agus lias mòr de ghiuthas Lianachain aca nan làmh, agus iad a’ soillseachadh
leth a’ bhaile – chan e idir an seombar san robh iad nan seasamh. Agus thuirt
e:
“Dè do bharail air na coinnleirean a tha sin?” thuirt
Fear na Ceapaich.
“O! chan eil leithid sin idir agam. Choisinn thu do
gheall. Agus sin agad do dhuais,” thuirt e.
And the translation goes something like the following:
THE CANDLES OF KEPPOCH
MacDonald of Keppoch was out in London visiting a true gentleman.
And the time that he was there special candles were taken out. They were quite
expensive at that time and the looked beautiful as well. There was a candle
placed at each end of the table and they were praising them. And he said:
“You don’t have candles as handsome as that in you own
country.”
“Yes we do and they as far better than those candles.”
“I’m amazed,” he said. “It’s not long at all since these
candles came out.”
“Well, they’ll beat them,” he said, “the onse I’ve got,
than those candles.”
A large bet was wagered – one hundred pounds. The bet was
made. MacDonald of Keppoch didn’t know and he didn’t wish to let them see that
he was so far behind, althugh he had said what he had said. He went over to see
a friend after he had come home. The nobleman in England was to going and visit
him at the end of six weeks:
“Oh, I have made a huge, big mistake,” said MacDonald of
Keppoch.
“Have you?” said his neighbour to him. “What’s that?”
He told him about the candles.
“I wagered a bet of one hundred pounts,” he said, “that
I’ve got better candles. And that is what I don’t have.”
“Oh, but you do. I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he said.
“What will I do,” he said.
“You’ll send the two most handsome lads in Lochaber
wearing Highland dress and each one of the them at the either head of the table
and each one will have a big, pine torch in his hand. And if that doesn’t light
the table when you take your food and if the English candles are anything like
the lads at each end of the table, I’ll be truly amazed.”
That’s how things turned out. The nobleman came and he
didn’t see any sign of candles or anything else. And when the food was served,
the two lads came in and they stood as each end of the table with a big torch
of Lianachan pines held in their hands, and they lit up half the townstead –
and not merel the room in which they were standing.
And he asked:
“What do you think of those candles?” asked MacDonald of
Keppoch.
“Oh, I don’t own anything like that at all. You have won
the best. And here is your prize,” he said.
Nearly a fortnight later Maclean recorded another version of the tale
from Archibald MacInnes from Achluachrach, Brae Lochaber, which he transcribed
on the 31st of January 1951. It is likely that this other rendition of the
historical tale was prompted by John MacDonald’s previous version as it may
have been mentioned in the passing. Although the following compares favourably
it lacks the betting motif which perhaps takes a little away from the
historical narrative:
COINNLEIREAN NA CEAPAICH
Aig
aon àm fhuair Mac ’ic Raghnaill na Ceapach iomradh air Sasannach de dhuine a
bha uamhraidh math dheth anns an t-saoghal, is e beairteach le òr is le
airgead. Is thug e cuireadh do Mhac 'ic Raghnaill a dhol a choimhead air dhan
dachaidh aige ann an Sasann. Chaidh Mac ’ic Raghnaill ann. Sheall e dha na bh’ aig dhen a h-uile nitheann bha de rìomhachd uamhraidh aige ann
an coinnleirean is ann an solas aige leòr is le airgead. Thuirt e ri Mac ’ic
Raghnaill gun robh fhios aige glè mhath nach b’ urrainn comas a bhith aige, is
an dòigh san robh e a bhith aige-san de sholast is de rìomhachd leis na
coinnleirean brèagha òir a thug e am fradharc airson gu faiceadh Mac ’íc
Raghnaill iad. Ach thuirt Mac ’ic Raghnaill ris:
“Thèid thu a choimhead orm. Chì thu a h-uile nitheann
a th’ agam, gach solast is gach coinnlear.”
Thairis air tìm nach robh uamhraidh fada chuir Mac ’ic
Raghnaill fios air gu tighinn. Is bha fhios aige air an latha is air an oidhche
is air an uair is air a’ mhionaid a thigheadh e.
Ach bha dhà dhuine dheug dhe na daoine bu sgairteile
is bu choltaiche na chèile, bha iad air a faighinn aige agus air an ‘dressadh’ cho
math is a ghabhadh iad le deise Ghàidhealach is le claidheamh rùisgte is le
coinneal ghiubhais ann an làimh cheàrr is claidheamh rùisgte anns an làimh
dheas. Nuair a thàinig an Sasannach a-staigh air an dorast, ’s ann a chaidh a
chridhe na shlugan leis an t-ealladh a chunnaic e roimhe is e a’ coiseachd
seachad orra. Is thuirt Mac ’ic Raghnaill ris.
“Cò is beairtiche sin na do chuid-sa, na coinnleirean
òir agad-sa?”
“Is beartiche do chuid-sa.”
Cha robh an còrr aig an t-Sasannach ri ghràitinn ach a
bhith gu math sàmhach.
And the translation goes something like the following:
THE CANDLES OF KEPPOCH
At one time MacDonald of Keppoch received mention of
an Englishman who was very well off and possessed a great deal riches of gold
and silver. And he extended an invitation to MacDonald of Keppoch to go and see
at his home in England. MacDonald of Keppoch accepted and he showed him all the
most beautiful things such as candles which had enough light and were made of
silver. He said to MacDonald of Keppoch that he knew very well that he
[MacDonald] had nothing to compare to what he had and the way in which he got
light was with these beautiful gold candles which he brought to MacDonald of
Keppoch to see. But MacDonald of Keppoch said to him:
“You
must come and see me. You will see then what I’ve got, each light and each
candle.”
Over a very short period of time MacDonald of Keppoch
received word that he was coming. He know the day and the night and the very
minute on which he would arrive.
And together were carried a dozen men who were
impressive specimens and looked alike. They were gathered together and they
were dressed as well as could be in Highland dress with a naked short and a
pine candle in their left hand and the naked sword in their right hand. When
the Englishman came through the door, a lump [literally his heart] appeared in
his throat with such a sight he saw before him as he walked by. And MacDonald
of Keppoch said
“Who is the richer than that, and you with your golden
candles?”
“You are.”
The Englishman could say no more and so he kept quite
quiet.
A very similar tale is also attributed to MacLeod of Dunvegan and
perhaps could be said to take an even romantic turn when his hand-picked
clansmen appear with pine candles in full Highland dress upon MacLeod’s table. Needless
to say he won his bet. For the sake of comparison, the following version of the
tale, collected in Nova Scotia, is attributed to Alasdair nan Cleas (‘Alexander
of the Tricks’), chief of Keppoch:
Coinnlearan Alasdair nan Cleas
Goirid an déidh do’n Rìgh Seumas a Sia dol gu Lunnainn
an 1603, agus a nis ’n a rìgh air Sasuinn is Albainn le chéile, dh’éirich
aimhreit am measg nan Gàidheal. B’fheudar do Alasdair MacDhòmhnaill, Triath na
Ceapaich an Loch Abar, teicheadh do’n Spàin anns a’ bhliadhna 1615.
’S e duine gaisgeil, fóghlumaite, a bh’ ann am fear na
Ceapaich, agus ’s e “Alasdair nan Cleas” am farainm a bh’ aca air. Bha na
leithid de eòlas aige ’s gun robh cuid a’ saoilsinn gun robh comas buidseachd
aige.
Anns a’ bliadhna 1620 thug an rìgh maitheanas do
Alasdair nan Cleas, is thill e air ais ás an Spàin. ’N uair a ràinig e Lunnainn
rinneadh cuirm mhór dha. Ghléidheadh a’ chuirm an tigh mór, greadhnach, làn
saoibhreis. Bha soithichean is truinnsearan òir air a’ bhòrd, is gach biadh a
bu bhlasda.
’N uair a shuidh a’ chuideachd mu’n bhòrd thuirt
fear-an-tighe ri Alasdair na Ceapaich, “Am faic thu na coinnlearan airgid a th’
agam-sa? Cha cheannaich òr iad. Chan ’eil an leithid anns an dùthaich. Tha mi
cinnteach nach ’eil dad idir coltach riutha anns a’ Ghàidhealtachd.
“O thà,” arsa Fear na Ceapaich. “Tha na coinnlearan
agad-sa maiseach gu dearbh, ach thig thusa do’n Cheapaich a shealltainn orm-sa,
is théid mise an geall gum faic thu coinnlearan agam-sa a tha móran na’s
iongantaiche na an fheadhainn agad-sa.” “Glé mhath,” ars’ an Sasunnach.
Beagan mhìosan an déidh sin ràinig an Sasunnach tigh
Alasdair nan Cleas anns a’ Cheapaich, is an oidhche sin fhéin bha dinneir mhór
aca.
“Càit a bheil na coinnlearan m’an robh thu a’ deanamh
bòsd?” ars’ an Sasunnach. “Chì thu sin an tiota,” fhreagair Alasdair.
Dh’fhosgail an dorus, thàinig pìobaire a steach, is ’n a dhéidh thàinig dà
dhuine dhiag, dorus, fear an déidh fir, gach fear cho mór, eireachdail ’n a
dheise Ghàidhealach, is sgolb giuthais an làimh gach fir, is gach sgolb ’n a
lasair dhèarssaich.
Chuir iad cuairt air a’ bhòrd trì uairean, is an sin
sheas iad ceithir thimchioll ’s an t-seòmar, dòrn-leus lasrach air a thogail gu
h-àrd anns gach làimh.
“Sin agad na coinnlearan agam-sa,” arsa Fear na
Ceapaich. “Chan ’eil na’s fheàrr air thalamh. ’S e Dia fhéin a tha comasach air
an deanamh, agus cha cheannaich òr no airgiod iad.”
“Tha thu ceart,” ars’ an Sasunnach; “is iad as
luachmhoire, agus as iongantaiche na na coinnlearan agam-sa.”
Sin agaibh matà coinnlearan Fhir na Ceapaich, fìr
threuna, ghaisgeil, gach fear le solus ’n a làimh.
And the translation goes something like the following:
Alexander of the Tricks’ Candles
A short time after King James VI went to London in
1603, when he became the king of both England and Scotland, trouble arose
amongst the Highlanders. Alexander MacDonald, Chief of Keppoch in Lochaber had
to flee to Spain in the year 1615.
The Keppoch chief was brave and well educated and he
was known as Alexander of the Tricks. He had such an amount of knowledge that
some thought he possessed magic powers.
In the year 1620 the king pardoned Alexander of the
Tricks and he returned from Spain. When he reached London a huge feast was held
in his honour. The feast was held in a handsome-looking mansion, full of
riches. Place on a table were dishes and plates of gold, with every conceivable
tasty morsel.
When the company sat down around the table the host
said to Alexander, Chief of Keppoch, “Do you see the silver candles I have?
Gold could not by them. There’s nothing like them in the whole country. I’m
sure that you’ve got nothing like them in the Highlands.
“Oh, yes we do,” replied the Keppoch chief. “Your candles
are stately indeed, but if you come to Keppoch to visit me then I bet that
you’ll see my candles are far more wonderful than those you have yourself.”
“Very well,” said the Englishman.
A few months afterwards, the Englishman arrived at
Alexander of the Tricks’ house at Keppoch and on that very night there was a
great banquet.
“Where are the candles of which you were boating?”
asked the Englishman.
“You’ll see them any minute now,” replied Alexander.
The door was opened and a piper came in followed by a dozen men, one after the
other, and they were all tall and handsome dressed in Highland garb and they
had a pine torch in each hand and each of the torches were brilliantly lit.
They circled the table three times, and then stood at
each of the four corners of the hall with each of them hold up their torches in
each hand.
“That’s my candles,” said the Keppoch chief. “There
are no better on this earth. “God himself was able to make them and neither
gold nor silver could buy them.”
“You’re quite right,” admitted the Englishman,
“they’re far more valuable and wonderful than my own candles.
There you have it then: the candles in the hands of
the Keppoch men, brave warriors and each of them with a light in his hand.
Yet another version of the story appeared in The Celtic Monthly:
Alasdair-nan-Cleas was considered one of the most
accomplished men of his day. A great friendship is said to have existed between
himself and his brother-in-law, MacFarlane of Lus. They used often to visit one
another, and Keppoch House, during his time, is said to have been the scene of
many a feast graced by the presence of guests from the north and south of the
kingdom. In this connection there is a story told of Alasdair which was
beautifully illustrated in a picture, exhibited in the Royal Academy some years
ago, entitled “The Chieftain’s Candlesticks.” While on his way home from Spain
he made a short stay in England, as the guest of an English baron who had been
a companion of his during his college days at Rome. The visit was celebrated by
a banquet given in Alasdair’s honour, at which there was a gorgeous display of
silver plate. Six massive silver candlesticks, of rare workmanship, used on the
occasion, became the subject of conversation. The Englishman laughingly
challenged Alasdair to produce candlesticks as valuable from among the
treasures of his mountain home. Keppoch’s Highland pride was roused, and he
accepted the challenge, promising to forfeit three times their value if he did
not produce an equal number that would far surpass them in beauty and value.
Sometime after the Englishman paid a return visit to Keppoch, and he was
received at the entrance of the Highland Chief's home by twelve stalwart
clansmen, dressed in their picturesque native garb, and holding flaming pine
torches, lighting the way to the banqueting hall. “These,” said Keppoch, “are
my priceless candlesticks, and all the wealth of England could not buy them.”
The English baron was fain to acknowledge his wager lost.
References:
T. D. MacDonald, ‘Lords
of Lochaber: Part X’, The Celtic Monthly,
vol. IV, no. 1 (Oct., 1895), pp. 51–53
Calum Iain M.
MacLeòid, Sgial agus Eachdraidh (Glaschu:
Gairm, 1977), pp. 51–52
SSS NB 2, pp. 111–13
SSS NB, 3, pp. 244–46
Image:
The Chieftain’s
Candlesticks by John Pettie, R. A. (1839–1893)
Fascinating, I love seeing how these old clan tales migrated, being adopted and adapted for different regions. Being a MacLeod, I had only ever heard of the Alasdair Crotach table version before. With Calum Maclean having been from the island of Raasay, I wonder if the CM Project has any tales relating to the MacLeods, especially the branch from that island?
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