St Merchant (2)
I was telling you about St. Merchard. In olden times, when a man died,
his best horse was given to the landlord. That was the ‘heriot’. If he
didn’t have a horse, the landlord was getting the same value in cattle
or sheep.
Twelve hundred years after Merchard’s death, a man died in
Glenmoriston. He left a widow after him. He didn’t have a horse, and
the estate factor took away sheep.
That night, the factor was lying in bed, when he heard a voice. The
voice said it was Merchard that was speaking, and that he must return
the sheep to the widow.
The man was scared out of his wits. The sheep were immediately returned
to the widow. From that day on, Glenmoriston landlords were never
seeking a heriot.
There is an account of Merchard in the old book called the Aberdeen
Breviary. It tells us about the saint’s death. He went to Rome. The
Pope, Gregory, blessed him.
Merchard went home. He reached Kincardine, his own country. He knew
that his death was not far off. He told his servants to put his body on
a cart. The cart would move by itself. Where it stopped – that was the
place to bury him. All of that happened, and the cart stopped where the
old church in Kincardine [O’Neil] is now.
For hundreds of years after Merchard’s death, his bell was still in
Glenmoriston – at Clachan Meircheard. People who were sick, they were
handling it, and they were getting better.
When the church became a ruin [fell apart], the bell was kept in the
ruin. When a funeral was due, the bell was ringing by itself, saying,
‘Home, home, to your everlasting bed!’
Unfortunately, around the year 1870, a man threw the bell into the river.
It sank and was never seen again. What a great pity.
Naomh Meircheard (2)
Bha mi ag innse dhuibh mu Naomh Meircheard. Anns an t-seann aimsir, nuair a
fhuair fear bàs, bha an t-each a b’ fheàrr aige air a thoirt seachad don
uachdaran. B’ e sin ‘an t-each-ursainn’. Mura robh each aige, bha an
t-uachdaran a’ faighinn an aon luach ann an crodh no caoraich.
Dusan ceud bliadhna an dèidh bàs Meircheard, chaochail fear ann an Gleann
Moireasdan. Dh’fhàg e banntrach às a dhèidh. Cha robh each aige, agus thug
bàillidh na h-oighreachd caoraich leis.
Air an oidhche sin, bha am bàillidh na laighe san leabaidh, nuair a chuala
e guth. Thuirt an guth gur e Meircheard a bha a’ bruidhinn, agus gun
fheumadh e na caoraich a thilleadh don bhanntraich.
Bha eagal a bheatha air an duine. Chaidh na caoraich a thilleadh don
bhanntraich sa bhad. Bhon latha sin a-mach, cha robh uachdarain Ghleann
Moireasdan ag iarraidh each-ursainn.
Tha cunntas mu Mheircheard anns an t-seann leabhar ris an canar Leabhar
Ùrnaighean Obar Dheathain. Tha e ag innse dhuinn mu bhàs an naoimh. Chaidh
e don Ròimh. Bheannaich am Pàp, Griogair, e.
Chaidh Meircheard dhachaigh. Ràinig e Cinn Chàrdainn, an dùthaich aige
fhèin. Bha fios aige nach robh a bhàs fad-às. Thug e òrdugh do a
shearbhantan a chorp a chur air cairt. Bhiodh a’ chairt a’ gluasad leatha
fhèin. Far an stadadh i – b’ e sin an t-àite airson a thiodhlacadh.
Thachair a h-uile càil sin, agus stad a’ chairt far a bheil a-nise an
t-seann eaglais ann an Cinn Chàrdainn.
Airson ceudan bhliadhnaichean an dèidh bàs Meircheard, bha an clag aige
fhathast ann an Gleann Moireasdan – aig Clachan Meircheard. Daoine a bha
tinn – bha iad ga làimhseachadh, agus bha piseach a’ tighinn orra.
Nuair a thuit an eaglais às a chèile, bha an clag air a chumail anns an
tobhta. Nuair a bha tiodhlacadh gu bhith ann, bha an clag a’ seirm leis
fhèin, ag ràdh, ‘Dhachaigh, dhachaigh, gu do leabaidh bhuan!’
Gu mì-fhortanach, timcheall na bliadhna ochd ceud deug is seachdad (1870),
thilg fear an clag don abhainn. Chaidh e fodha agus chan fhacas a-rithist
e. Is mòr am beud.
