Clan Donald Magazine No11 (1987) Online
The Battle of Traigh Ghruineard by Arra Fletcher,
Persabus, Islay
The battle of Traigh Ghruineard in 1598
was the last big Clan battle to be fought in the Island of Islay,
and it was between Sir Lachlan Mor MacLean, the 14th Chief of Duart
and his nephew Sir James MacDonald of Islay.
They fought over possession of the Rhinns in Islay which Lachlan Mor
claimed was the dowry given to his wife in 1566 by her brother Angus
MacDonald, chief of Clan Donald South, and the most powerful branch
of Clann Dhomhnuill. Later, MacDonald gave the land of the Rhinns to
Brian Vicar MacKay, lieutenant to the MacDonalds, and for years
MacLean had demanded the return of the Rhinns to his wife.
At long last MacLean decided that the
only way to settle things was to invade Islay and do battle with
Angus' son James.
At that time no chief would go into battle without consulting a ban-fhaidh
(wise woman) and this MacLean did. He was very annoyed when she told
him not to go to Islay, and when he insisted that he was honour
bound to go she closed her eyes, and raising her hands intoned this
warning: "In spite of my plea you will set sail for Islay, do not
arrive on a Thursday, do not fight on the shores of Loch Gruineard,
do not drink from the well known as Tobar Niall Neonaich (the well
of strange Niall) or else you will surely die."
MacLean was uneasy at the warning but he was still determined to
secure the Rhinns for his sons.
So on the first Wednesday in August, MacLean set sail for Islay.
Unfortunately, a storm arose and he could not land in Islay until
the Thursday.
Mustering his troops they camped overnight in the old keep on the
islet in Loch Gorm, while MacDonald and his men camped on the grassy
ground at what is now Craigens.
Early next morning, MacDonald rode over to Loch Gorm to talk to his
uncle. He wanted peace and arbitration, but MacLean had discovered
that he had almost twice as many men as Clan Donald and was in no
mood to compromise.
The troops began to line up for battle, and MacLean must have had
some thoughts when he saw that his men had raised his standard on
the shores of Loch Ghruineard.
About this time there came to him an ugly, hunch-backed dwarf called
Dubh Sith (black fairy) because of his dark skin and black hairy
appearance. His father was a Shaw from Lagg in Jura and his mother
was a fairy woman. Such people make very bad enemies and should
always be treated with great care.
The Dubh Sith had to twist his ill shaped head to look up at MacLean
who stood over 7 feet tall. "Who are you?" asked MacLean. "I am a
Shaw from Jura, and I have come to offer my services as an archer"
said the Duth Sith.
MacLean laughed out loud, and looking down in contempt at the dwarf
he said, "Spawn of the devil, take yourself from my sight before I
drown you in the loch," and turning his back on the dwarf he strode
away.
The Dubh Sith slunk away with black burning hatred in his heart and
quickly made his way to MacDonald where he offered his services.
This time he was received with open arms and MacDonald said to him
"Yes, I will take you, and 100 more like you."
"Good" said Dubh Sith, "you look after the rest and I'll look after
MacLean."
So saying the Dubh Sith made off, and unseen by the busy men he
approached the well Tobar Niall Neonaich, climbed up into the
branches of a rowan tree and remained there, hidden from sight.
MacLean assembled his troops on top of a hill, the idea being to
charge down on Clan Donald and force them to defend themselves
up-hill, but MacDonald had learned other tactics in Edinburgh. He
split his men into 3, the main body to fight up-hill while the other
2 were to creep round behind the hill, and at a signal to charge
down on the Macleans.
This was done, and as the battle raged a contingent of men from
Arran arrived under their young Chief Angus — a close friend of
MacDonald.
The hot August sun was blazing down on the fighting men, and during
a lull in the battle MacLean wanted a drink, and, as his water
carrier was empty he crossed over to the well. Removing his helmet
he knelt to drink. This was the moment Dubh Sith had waited for, and
like lightning he shot the bolt from his crossbow straight into the
back of MacLean's neck and at such an angle that the tip came out
his eye.
The death of their chief so angered the MacLeans that they continued
fighting more fiercely than before.
However, MacDonald's tactics were paying off, and the MacLeans found
themselves without a Chief and in danger of all being killed, when
suddenly young Sir James fell on the ground wounded in the thigh and
abdomen. His men thought he was dead, and turning on the now fleeing
MacLeans went after them with murder in their hearts.
The MacLeans' headlong flight towards their ships anchored at
Ardnave Point was suddenly halted by the sight of their ships
putting out to sea, the sailors having realised that the battle was
lost.
In desperation 30 MacLeans sought sanctuary in Kilnave Chapel, a
thatched building built for defence, and having only 2 narrow
windows and a small entrance with a heavy wooden door. Rushing
inside they bolted the door and waited fearfully, hoping that the
MacDonalds would respect holy ground.
Alas, the men were half mad with grief and anger at the thought that
their chief had been killed, and lusting for vengeance they set fire
to the roof of the chapel.
The men inside were all killed with the exception of one man, a Mac
Mhuirich (Currie) who managed to climb through a hole in the roof
when the burning thatch collapsed. He was spotted by the MacDonalds
who rescued him as he ran into the loch, hoping to swim to Nave
Island. This proved impossible though he managed to pluck a reed
before he headed out to submerge himself beside some rocks and clung
to them under water, breathing through the reed.
Eventually the MacDonalds decided that he must have drowned, and
left. Later the exhausted man staggered ashore and found refuge
somewhere in Islay, and his descendants are still here today.
Sir James' life was saved by the doctor who was tending the wounded;
he would almost certainly be a Beaton from Ballinaby.
MacLean's foster mother heard of his death, and with her son Duncan
she came with a horse and sledge to collect MacLean's body for
burial. Being such a huge man MacLean was too big for the sledge so
she made Duncan sit beside MacLean to hold him on it. The foster
mother walked at the head of the horse leading the way towards
Kilchoman Church. The ground was very rough and bumpy. Suddenly she
heard laughter, and turning, she saw Duncan laughing at the sight of
MacLean's head nodding up and down at the end of the sledge.
Enraged, the grief-stricken foster mother drew MacLean's dagger from
his belt and killed her own son who fell on the ground. She covered
him with stones at the place now called Cam Dhonnachaidh (Duncan's
Cairn) and then walked on to Kilchoman. There she buried her foster
son MacLean inside the church, and as there was no carved stone
there for him she took the one made for the priest. When the new
church was built on the old site, it was a smaller building, and
today Sir Lachlan MacLean lies outside the church under the carved
stone of a priest.
Among the dead was the fine young Arran chief who must have had a
premonition of his death, as he had asked his men to bury him in
sight of his beloved Arran.
And so after the battle his remaining men and some from Clan Donald
carried the young warrior chief to the top of Beinn Bhan (Ben Van)
and buried him under a cairn in sight of Arran. The cairn is still
there today; it is called Carn-nan-Oighre (Cairn of the Young Heir).
It was said too that one of MacLean's sons was killed at this
battle, and that later his mother came from Mull and took his body
home.
MacLean's men would have lifted their dead chief from the muddy well
and laid him on dry ground, and I believe that is why the stone
Clach Mhic 'illean (MacLean's Stone) lies some way from the well.
Sir James had no heart for the battle of Traigh Ghruineard, and far
from rewarding the Dubh Sith for killing MacLean, MacDonald turned
from him in revulsion, and the dwarf was glad to slink back to Jura
in fear of his life.
This is the story as my father told it to me. He had heard it from
his father, and so on from father to son over the centuries,
remembering too that my ancestors fought alongside Clan Donald.
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