Most West Highland clans have to go back some seven hundred years to find their eponymous ancestor.  If the Macaulays of Lewis conform to this pattern, we should look for the original Olafr or Aulay about the beginning of the thirteenth century, when the Hebrides were still under Norse domination; and it is a fact, as we know from the Chronicle of Man, that one so called had close connections with Lewis at that time – no less a person than Olaf the Black, who in later years was to become King of Man and the Isles.  It is not therefore surprising that Dr George Mackenzie who was doubtless acquainted with the Chronicle of Man as abridged by Camden, makes Olaf the ancestor of the clan.

It is possible that Olaf the Black left descendants in Lewis, but there is no real evidence on the point.  There was a tradition among the Macaulays in Uig that they were descended from Magnus, King of Norway, while in Lord Macaulay’s [Thomas Babington Macaulay, 1800-1859, historian and politician] family a similar tradition gave the name as “Olaus Magnus, King of Norway”.  The occurrence of the name Magnus may be of significance, for Olaf the Black did, in fact, have a son so called.

He goes on to discuss the name Sgaire, which is peculiar to the Macaulays and which evidently arrived in the family with “Iskair Macaulay ane Irish man” before being anglicised as Zachary, but see below for a fresh interpretation of the subject.  There’s probably a good argument for a Macaulay DNA project here.

Thanks to Brianann for this.

The name Zachary and the Irish origin of the Macaulay family of Lewis

The man at the centre of the great strike upheaval these days is Labour Minister [ie, Minister of Labour and National Service in the Conservative government] Mr Iain Macleod, whose family home was at Scaliscro, Lewis. Mr Macleod’s father was a doctor and like his mother, was a native of Lewis. He practised in England but his family spent all their holidays at Scaliscro, where the future minister spoke Gaelic with his two brothers and his sister. It was while he was on a fishing holiday at Scaliscro in 1945 that Mr Macleod was precipitated, almost accidentally, into politics.

His father, a staunch Conservative, was so worried about the ‘loss’ of the Western Isles to the Socialists that if Iain had not stood for the constituency, the doctor would have done so himself. The future Cabinet Minister was not elected, but having been launched into politics, he soon afterwards won the seat of Enfield West. Mr Macleod’s son Torquil is at Harrow and his daughter [Diana] attends a convent school although the Macleods are Protestant.

In this connection, a daily newspaper got a significant reply to a question he put to Mrs Macleod last Sunday. The journalist knew that her husband, as well as being an accomplished politician, was one of th emost brillian bridge players in Britain. He asked whether the minister of Labour would be spending part of Sunday quietly over the bridge table.

“Bridge?” replied Mrs Macleod. “Bridge on the Sabbath?” And she added, “We never play cards on Sunday.”

We’ve looked before at the remarkable Angus of the Mountain. The little stories surrounding his life and faith are numberous – here are a few more abridged from Macfarlane’s Men of the Lews (1924):

His mental constitution was not of gun-metal. It was weak and of the wool-gathering order. People said he just mooned around. When the great Revival came to Uig (1824) it embraced Angus, and he was cast into the deepest spiritual concern. Then he went back to his native hills and spent days and nights there in prayer… He started the new life and continued in it on an extraordinarily high level, and became as fixed as if melted into it in a liquid state.  The regard and affection that were poured out on him were more than ordinary.

Mr Alexander Macleod, the minister, had so high a regard for Angus [although he refused to allow him to become a communicant, on the grounds of intellectual capacity -Ed.] that he engaged a teacher to teach him to read. The teacher could make nothing of him. His memory for the alphabet was hopeless. He could repeat A; with much labour he succeeded in adding B, but there was no room in his mind for the third letter. With effort after effort to get C in, he had to abandon the task. Angus met all endeavour to instruct him by affirming that he did not see Christ in these letters. HE would rather be out of the hillside with Christ than filling himself up with this kind of learning.

On one occasion in Stornoway there met him a man who was gomeril enough to say to Angus, “Oh, aren’t you the Uig fool?” Angus fell aboard ofhim with the reply, “The Bible says the fool is he who trusteth to his own heart,” which the Stornoway man was evidently doing.

Angus was much in request for public prayer. His gift was remarkable, and when he prayed it felt as if the heavens opened and the Bethel Ladder came down. He did not always respond when called. “Angus! you lead us in prayer,” said the minister. “Oh no, minister, I cannot to-day.”  ”Certainly Angus, you can and you will.” “Not to-day, minister; I cannot do it.” “Yes, rise, Angus, Jonah prayed when he was worse off that you. He prayed when he was in the whale’s belly.” “Ah! but I have the whale in mine today!” When Angus rose he was like a ship in the trade-winds, he sped on with unvarying triumph, with everything right alow and aloft.

Herding cows was thought to be a simple service which Angus could easily fulfill. Again and again he failed. Once his father was angered by his letting the cattle into the corn, and he chased Angus with loud threatening. “Lord, cause my father to stumble” rose from the lips of the son, and sure enough down when the father, and Angus escaped.  The minister entrusted Angus with his cows, and the same straying into the cornfield happened. When someone said to him, “Why, Angus, did you not pray that the cows might be kept from the corn?” he replied, with an injured look, “It would never do to put cows into the prayer.”

Angus was given to soliloquy. Many of his words fell on ears in the passing, and were rehearsed eagerly through the parish. Here is a specimen: “Oh, my Saviour, the Black One came to me to-day. He was going to trouble me. Fire was in his eye. I told him You were coming and I expected You soon. Oh, You should see how he took to his heels.”

There was one bit of soliloquizing that raised many a ripple of laughter. The banns of marriage were in his time all proclaimed in church.One day he was overheard going over his own banns. “There is a purpose of marriage between Aonghas ___ and Margaret ___, etc.”

Although Angus was not one of those who spoke on Fridays of Communion, he ranked as one of the forces in the Island of Lewis. His faith, his simplicity, his warmth of love gave him rank. He found God in everything.

From the People’s Journal, 27 September 1958.

It’s a while now since Dr Donald Macdonald [Dolly Doctor] of Gisla in Lewis practised at his profession. But the jovial, big-hearted doctor is still a cure and a tonic for many folk not only in his native island, but in many other circles.

Take the old folk in Stornoway. He has taken them under his wing, brightens up their eventide with his cracks and joviality, and they, in turn, just dote on him.

The doctor has such a deep-rooted interest in them that he often makes a special journey from his old family homestead in Gisla, 35 miles away, to help entertain at the weekly ceilidhs arranged for them.

And he has the enthusiastic backing and support of his charming wife.

but there are times when the stalwart doctor, whose ‘hail-fellow-well-met’ disposition makes him an immensely popular personality with young and old, gets angrier and angrier. It’s when you mention the Gaelic. Then he throws out his massive chest and snorts like a grampus.  For the Gaelic to him is soemthing dear, a priceless gem to be cherished and preserved. And it makes him furious to think of the way the old language is being neglected.

“You haven’t go the Gaelic?” he asked our reporter. “And you from Inverness. Inverness is going all o pot. The capital of the Highlands and no Gaelic!”

It was the doctor who, some time ago, suggested that, in order to give it a real uplift, the young Prince Charles should be taught the language.

“But what’s happened to my proposal?” and his deep voiced boomed again in anger. “It’s been pigeonholed for good. And now,” he sighed, “the Welsh have got him, ” alluding to the Prince’s new title.

The Gaelic,” he went on, “what can we common folk do about it? Parents, even in Lewis, aren’t interested in keeping it alive. They don’t see what good it will do their children in earning their livelihood.”

“What’s the use of john Bannerman and me getting up in our Highland dress on a platform and talking about it? It’s only the converted who are there to hear us. I don’t know where its decline is going to end, probably by taking a plunge of the Butt of Lewis out into the Atlantic.”

But, whatever the fate of the old language, there’s one thing sure. So long as he can raise his voice, the doctor will champion its cause and strive to keep it alive.

The National Mod is a ‘must’ for him. He’ll be there in Glasgow next week, in full Highland array, keeping time with head and hands to the lovely lilts of Gaelic melody and music. He’s being going to the Mod off and on since 1910 and he’s loved every minute of it.

Angus MacLeod’s father was a shepherd in the hills of Uig towards the border with Harris, and this is where Angus was born. So it is not difficult to understand why everybody in the area knew his as Aonghas na Beann, Angus of the Hills. Angus was caught up in the great Revival in Uig in the Rev Alexander Macleod‘s time. He was a simpleton who could not even count his fingers, yet when he engaged in public prayer hardly any trace of lack of intellect was noticeable. What was noticeable about him was the Spirit of reverence of one who practised the Presence and whose prayers surprised, affected and moved the hearer.

He was held in high regard by the minister who engaged a teacher to teach him reading – without success. Yet when he applied to the minister for the privilege of sitting at the Lord’s Table, he was refused on account of his lack of intellectual capacity. Angus must have been deeply hurt; and it appears that the minister and Kirk-session must have relented at a later date, for the tale is told that Angus at one time dropped his communion token and could not find it. Someone seeing him searching asked:

“Na chaill thu am comharra Aonghais?”

“Cha do chaill, ach chaill me am pios luaidhe thug iad dhomh!”

[Did you lose your token Angus? No, but I lost that piece of lead they gave me.]

Tales of Aonghas nam Beann remain in oral tradition and are still related in the Parish. At a communion season in Uig a visiting minister noticed Angus talking with a group of people at the church after the service. He told Rev Alexander that he was going over to the church to see what was going on, and was advised to stay where he was. However he insisted and he arrived to hear Angus, who had noticed his approach, say:

“Bha fios agam gu robh ni math againn ‘s nach fhada gus am biodh an Satan an torr oirnn”

[I knew we had something of spiritual worth and that ere long Satan would attempt to spoil it.]

The minister beat a hasty retreat to the manse, where he was was asked how he got on. He replied, “I was castigated as an instrument of Satan.”

Angus was a frequent and welcome visitor at communions, and it is probably that his death occurred during such a visit to a communion in Skye. There he was buried in the cemetery at Uig (Skye).

In The Skye Revivals, Steve Taylor reports that once Angus discovered Skye he was rarely away from it. He also gives further stories of Angus in Skye and Lochs:

On one occasion Angus was attending communion services in Snizort in Skye when the Rev Roderick Macleod invited him to the manse. During the meal Roderick said, “Angus, has not grace greatly honoured you when it brought you to my table?” Angus replied, “And did not grace greatly honour yourself, minister, when you invited me?”

The Rev Robert Finlayson of Lochs was interviewing three women on one occasion who were seeking admission to the Lord’s Table. One had been convertedas a result of hearingAngus in prayer, the second on hearing a neighbour repeating on of Angus’s private prayers, and the third under Finlayson’s own preaching. “I see,” said Finlayson, “thatI have only one share in this work.”

It was the testimony of Rev Murdo MacAskill [Dingwall, in 1885] when speaking of Angus that “this poor witless man could claim more spiritual children in the parish of Lochs than all the ministers who had preached there in his generation.” No one who met him was allowed to walk away without an answer to the question, “Do you love the Lord Jesus Christ?” All who came into contact with Angus were aware of an indescribably power and influence.

More tales of Angus nam Beann are here.

We ought in our own day to be very thankful to that Divine Providence which has dispelled the barbarous darkness and depression from our land, and shed upon it the light of the Gospel, for there are many things related of the hero, Donald Cam, which are revolting to humanity. It is told that Donald Cam had a foster-mother who used to go about the country begging for meal &c. She was at one time down at Ness, gathering meal in summer, and she was returning by South Dell, in which there then six tenants. The tenants, seeing a woman with a bag of meal on her back, agreed with her to let them have the meal till the following harvest, when they would pay it back, and more besides. To this the woman consented, yet when she returned to Uig, and Donald Cam asked her what success she had had at Ness, she complained that the tenants at South Dell had taken the meal from her without giving her anything in return.

Donald Cam went to Ness, and when he came to Dell these poor tenants were in the ebb (foreshore), seeking shell-fish for food, for those were years of great scarcity. He asked them no questions but ordered each to dig his own grave; and when they had done so, he killed all the six, and buried them there.

Another unpleasant Dòmhnall Càm story is here.

From the Stornoway Gazette supplement, 18 December 1959.

Wedding bells have been ringing in Mangersta for the past year. Cupid started at one end of the village leaving a spate of marriages in his trail. The most recent of these was solemnised in the East Church, Inverness, on the 10^th November when Mary Morrison, eldest daughter of the late Mr and Mrs John Morrison, 13 Mangersta, became the bride of Alexander Smith, only son of the late Mr and Mrs William Smith, 9 Kneep. The Rev Donald Macfarlane, minister of the church, officiated. The bride, looking happy and beautiful in her gown of white late and short veil, sailed up the aisle on the arm of her brother Peter, who is expert at the job, this being the last of the bunch of beautiful sisters he has given away at the altar.

She was attended by her cousin Kathleen Morrison, also of Mangersta, who looked lovely in pink nylon. The duties of the best man were ably carried out by Calum Iain Macdonald, Crowlista, cousin of the ’groom.

After the marriage ceremony a large number of relations and friends motored to the Glen Mhor Hotel, where they were received by Mrs Kate B Buchanan, sister of the bride, and Mrs Peggy Parsons, sister of the ‘groom. A sumptuous feast was spread and everybody was welcome.

The toast to the bride and ‘groom was proposed by Rev Mr Macfarlane, and replied to by the ‘groom. The toast of the bridesmaid was replied to by the best man. Other speakers were the Rev John Newall, Resolis; Mr Peter Morrison, the bride’s brother; Mr Tom Mackenzie, the bride’s uncle and Mr John A Maciver, schoolmaster, Logie, who read a sheaf of congratulatory telegrams, coming from as far apart as Breanish and Benghazi.

After the excellent meal the floor was cleared and the young folk danced away the hours. To give them a breath, songs were sung of every variety, making the evening most enjoyable. All good things come to an end and the guests started to make for home, but not before giving the young couple a rousing send-off. The ‘groom was carried shoulder high to the waiting taxi, minus shoes and stockings, while the stars sparkled in the frosty Invernessian sky.

By now they have returned to Uig, where they will make their home in beautiful Creaga-na-Troghad, at Kneep, overlooking the lovely sands and the Sound of Pabbay. We wish Sandy and Mary very many happy years together n this most peaceful setting.

According to Capt FWL Thomas’s Traditions of the Macaulays “Maighstir Amhlaigh” was “much esteemed for his piety, benevolence and conduct” and very rigorous in his duties. Thomas relates several stories that include Norman Maciver, Tarmod Cleireach, who was his kirk-officer and a bard, and as another Uigeach, often accompanied Aulay on his journeys home, which would have been on foot over the hills. The following is from Thomas’s book.

When they were returning home to Harris [after a visit to Uig] they both got very tired with their long day’s travel, and towards evening sat down to rest by a spring on the hills of Luskentyre. They were both very hungry, and as Norman had some graddan [grain husked by briefly holding it in a flame, rather than in a kiln] with him in his bag, which his mother had sent to his wife, he mixed some with a little water and made two large lumps. They began to eat with much eagerness, and when Mr Aulay had made considerable progress with his cnap up jumped Norman and addressed some advancing travellers with “Your most humble servant,” and “How do you do?” Up sprang Mr Aulay in a hurry, throwing away the remainder of his cnap, but there was nobody there. Mr Aulay set off home as fast as he could, and the next day remonstrated with Norman about his tricks, but he excused himself by saying that he was afraid the minister was wasting time, and he wanted him to proceed on his journey.

There was a meeting of Presbytery at the house of Macleod of Bernera[y], Harris, which was attended by the Rev Aulay Macaulay and his faithful kirk-officer, Tarmod Cleireach. The ministers’ servants had a room to themselves and got beef and broth for their dinner. There was then the custom of Lettrimaid, that is, the beef and broth were both placed on the table together in the same large dish or bowl. It happened that Norman was one day late in coming to dinner and his greedy messmates had eaten all the meat, but they had not begun on the broth for it was scalding hot. Norman came in, and finding that his share of the beef had been eaten, he lifted the large bowl of broth and poured it over them. The screams of the scalded lads brought everybody to the spot, but Norman went off and hid himself under some hay in a barn. The next day Norman left his retreat, and defended himself before the assembled clergymen with so much spirit that he was excused. Mr Aulay was afraid he should still go on with his tricks, for, being born a bard, he was allowed to do almost anything he liked.

Tarmod Cleireach was retained as kirk-officer till Mr Aulay died [in 1758], and the minister on his deathbed desired that his much-beloved friend and servant should, when he died, be buried beside him; and the two rest together immediately within what was the door of the church, and on the right hand side as you enter.

20 July 1945

On Tuesday, 3rd July, in Crowlista School, Dr and Mrs Maclennan were met by a large company of friends who had gathered to present them with a token of appreciation of Dr Maclennan’s professional services in the parish since 1935. Rev Norman Morrison was called upon to preside. He spoke with regret about the impending departure of Dr Maclennan, who had put in ten years of arduous work in the face of many difficulties in a wide and scattered district. Being young and energetic, Dr Maclennan never spared himself, and he was always promptly on the spot when his services were required. Although the people of Uig were sorry to lose him, Mr Morrison said that it was the sincere wish of everyone that Dr Maclennan would be happy in his new sphere of labour. Mr Maciver, the headmaster of Lochcroistean School, referred in glowing terms to Dr Maclennan’s capabilities. He was always promptly at his post when needed, and he carried away with him blessing from every home in which he brough succour in times of need.

Cpl Kye, RAF, said that Dr Maclennan was regarded not only as a medical adviser but as a friend, and he was very glad to get the opportunity to wish him luck in the name of the boys at the camp. Cpl Hutcheson, medical orderly, RAF, spoke about his long association with Dr Maclennan, and of the speed and willingness with which he covered the twelve miles to Brenish when required to do so. Mr Peter Macdonald, Crowlista, told of the regret felt by everybody in the community when it became known that Dr Maclennan was leaving to take up work on the mainland. He said that the good wishes of young and old would follow him to his new home. Mr Ian Macdonald, Miavaig Post Office, said that he had been doing business with Dr Maclennan for many years and he was one of the best neighbours that any man could wish to have. Mrs Maciver, Ardroil, spoke feelingly of the relief which the doctor brought in time of trouble, and she thanked him for his attentiveness and kindness during many years of illness in her home.

The Chairman then called on Mrs Sutherland, the headmistress of Crowlista School, to hand over to Dr Maclennan a wallet of Treasury notes from all the townships in the parish. She did this, wishing him all success and happiness in the future. In a speech of thanks, Dr Maclennan said that he and his wife would never forget the kindness of the people of Uig, and he expressed the intention to come back sometime again to see their friends. A splendid tea was then served to all present. Mrs Sutherland, and other local ladies, had prepared a magnificent spread such as is seldom seen in war-time, and everybody enjoyed the good things provided. The meeting was closed with prayer by the Chairman.

Dr Maclennan is still warmly remembered in Uig, as one who came very quickly when called and, though kind and efficient, would never hang about for a cup of tea. It was he who identified the outbreak of diphtheria in Geshader in 1939, in the face of official scepticism – saving the life of Finlay Maciver, and probably others.

After leaving Uig, Dr and Mrs Maclennan went to Dufftown, where they became very prominent members of the community. In addition running his practice, giving exceptional support to his patients during hard winters, establishing two cottage hospitals, one for long-term patients and one including maternity facilities, and raising three sons (David, Christopher and Robin) Dr Maclennan was a founder of the Dufftown Pipe Band and became Hon President of Dufftown Golf Club. He joined the town council in 1947, becoming Dean of Guild, Housing Convenor, Senior Bailie and finally Provost in 1969. He retired in 1971 and died on 14 April 1975 at the age of 63.

The picture below shows the doctor with the staff of the Stephen Cottage Hospital in Dufftown in 1953. Many thanks to the family for the photos and information.

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Rev Norman Morrison, with his wife, sister (behind him) and children.  Rev Morrison was minister at Baile na Cille from 1931 to 1950.

He wasn’t the first of that name in Uig; the third known minister in Uig was also Norman Morrison, 1742 to 1777, who was a grandson of John Morrison, tacksman at Bragar – known in the archives as Indweller.  He studied at Aberdeen and St Andrews and from his ordination in 1742, spent his whole working life in Uig.  His church was the small blackhouse just outside the present Baile na Cille walled garden, near the cemetery.