Highland Newspapers online - and an obituary of Father James MacGregor

It’s been a long time coming, but a new age is slowly dawning for Highland history. At long last, Highland newspapers are being digitised and put online – for a price! So far, the British Newspaper Archive has made available a complete run of the Inverness Courier up until the end of the 1860s, and just a single year, 1879, of the Oban Times. When all newspapers from the Highlands (and further afield) are finally digitised and accessible on computer, it will revolutionise our understanding of the history of the region, allowing us to search and browse not only the news being reported in their pages, but also all the fascinating columns, letters, lore, poetry, song, and advertisements they contain: all this without having to travel to libraries and wade through fiddly, noisy, eye-aching reels of microfilm.

 

There are, of course, problems. Firstly, Optical Character Recognition is still not good enough to allow accurate and comprehensive searches of what we’re looking for: over and over again coarse, irregular newspaper fonts and smudged ink (to say nothing of curled page edges or poor digitised images!) play havoc with our investigations. We can never be sure that we haven’t missed that crucial piece of evidence: in the end, hit-and-miss searches are still no substitute for comprehensive, methodical, page-by-page trawls. When it comes to searching for Gaelic words, of course, these problems multiply exponentially – though, as the language has historically used Roman letters, Scottish Gaelic is not so unsearchable as its Irish cousin (at present, though this may well change).

 

A more serious problem, one maybe needing to be addressed as soon as possible, relates to different editions of single newspapers. Newspaper runs, of course, have always been altered and adjusted as fresh news comes in during the evening and the night. Again, newspapers have printed and continue to print different editions for different areas. There is no such thing, then, as an official, canonical, single specific issue of, for instance, the Inverness Courier or the Oban Times for a particular day.

 

A major problem for us in the Highlands is that different newspaper editions might offer local news, local columnists, or local occasional literature (particularly material in Gaelic) that might not have been printed in the ‘main’ edition. As we might expect, such local editions have a particularly low survival rate, and it would be rather catastrophic if old numbers from these runs were to end up in a skip because the main edition of the newspaper was now ostensibly ‘safely online’. In the future we shall still have to consult hard paper copies (no matter how fragile), trawl through microfilms (no matter how exasperating), or browse newspaper cuttings-books (of which we have a plethora, from several different owners, in the Carmichael Watson Project).

 

Over the next few blogs we’ll print some Carmichael-related material (and maybe some non-Carmichael-related material too) culled from newspapers in the Highlands and beyond. Here, to begin with, is an obituary for Father James MacGregor, Roman Catholic priest at Ardkenneth, an t-Ìochdar, South Uist. The piece was printed in the Inverness Courier for 25 April 1867. Maighstir Seumas had died some time previously, on 15 February, of what appears to have been a painful kidney infection.

 

Obituaries are fascinating in what they tell us of how contemporaries viewed the deceased, and the little glimpses and hints they give into personalities. As a search for his name in the Carmichael Watson Project, the Calum Maclean Project, or Tobar an Dualchais  demonstrates, Father James MacGregor remained well-known in tradition for well over a century after his death, not just as a local character, but also for his reputation as a healer, occasionally employing somewhat unorthodox methods.

 

Notes from Uist.

   A correspondent in the Long Island writes as follows: –
   ‘Two persons have lately died in this quarter who will be much missed – the Rev. Jas. Macgrigor, Roman Catholic priest, South Uist, and Mrs Macdonald, Scolpaig, North Uist. Both died at the age of seventy-seven. Mr Macgrigor was a native of the interior of Perthshire. He studied at the Roman Catholic College of Lismore, Argyllshire, before that seminary was removed to Blair, Aberdeenshire. After leaving Lismore he was appointed to the mission station of Lochaber, where he remained for ten years. Thence he was transferred to Iocar, South Uist, where he laboured for the long period of thirty-nine years. Mr Macgrigor was a man of humour and cheerfulness, and endowed with much sound common sense. He was tolerant towards all, and lived in peace and charity with all men. It was be safely affirmed of him that he was equally beloved and respected by all classes and all denominations. He had a good knowledge of medicine, and the people had great confidence in his skill. Like the noble Fingal of old, of whose son’s poems he was fond to the last, his door was never closed. His greatest delight was to see people at his house, and as far as in his power to administer to their comfort and happiness. If Mr Macgrigor had a predominant weakness, it was land-improving and iron gates. He had tons of iron rails and iron gates about him. On the short approach leading to his house at Aird-Choinnich he had no fewer than three or four ponderous iron gates, each more complex than the other in its construction and fastenings. This, upon one occasion, led to a witty remark from the late Bishop Murdoch, of Glasgow, himself a man of much humour. Upon his coming to Aird-Choinnich on one occasion rather unexpectedly, and experiencing some difficulty in getting through the gates, he remarked that ‘if Father Macgrigor guarded the way to heaven as effectually as that to his house, it would be no easy task effecting an entrance.’ Mr Macgrigor was a man of great integrity, and at heart a thorough gentleman. With the exception, perhaps, of the funeral of the late greatly-beloved and regretted Dr Maclean, of Milton, so large a concourse of people as that which attended Mr Macgrigor’s funeral has not been seen in this quarter for many a day. Protestant widows were there, equally demonstrative in their grief as their Roman Catholic sisters; and Protestant ministers were there, who united with Roman Catholic priests in saying that they had all lost a friend whose equal they were not likely soon to see again. – Mrs Macdonald, Scolpaig, was a native of Skye. She was a lady of a fine presence and personal appearance, and of much culture and intelligence. Although none could escape feeling that he was in the presence of a lady of superior attainments, her unassuming modesty prevented her revealing the rich stores of her mind to any but her intimate friends. Mrs Macdonald was highly respected by all, and greatly beloved by the poor.’

Mrs Macdonald, Scolpaig, was Barbara née Tolmie (1789–1867), daughter of John Tolmie (1742–1823), Seoc Tolm, tacksman of Uiginish in Skye. She was the widow of Captain John Macdonald (d. 1843), tacksman of Scolpaig in North Uist, and mother of John Macdonald of Newton (1824–88), factor of North Uist from 1855 and a close family friend of Alexander Carmichael.

Bibliography:
Inverness Courier, 25 April 1867, 7
Mackenzie, Hector Hugh. The Mackenzies of Ballone (Inverness: Northern Chronicle, 1941), 94–9.

Image:
St Michael's, Ardkenneth.

Wee Charmers - 1

Over the past week a number of emails have arrived in the Carmichael Watson inbox with the rather alarming heading ‘urine charms’. The reason for the sudden spate of interest (to coin a phrase) is a series of threads on the online discussion group Old-Irish-L investigating three Old Irish charms in the illuminated manuscript known as the Stowe Missal. We thought it might be of interest to trace charms for what probably were similar ailments, as gathered by Alexander Carmichael when he was living in Uist between 1864 and 1882. The following blogs, then, will offer you all you’ll ever need (or probably want) to know about the mysterious world of red water charms.

The primary purpose of these charms is to cure cattle of a disease usually referred to in the islands as bun-dearg. The term is obscure, but if it derives from ‘bùrn dearg’, it is directly related to its English equivalent, ‘red water’. Although nowadays ‘red water disease’ refers to a serious and often potentially lethal ailment caused by the parasite Clostridium hemolyticum in the kidneys, in Carmichael’s late nineteenth-century Hebridean world the term would have been applied to any potentially lethal disease in which one of the principal symptoms was red urine. In a society where wealth was calculated by the numbers of cows owned, the loss of a single beast could have catastrophic effects, especially on poorer households. Here is Alexander Carmichael’s folk explanation of the bun-dearg in his ‘vocabulary notes’ at the end of the second volume of Carmina Gadelica:

Bun-dearg, red swelling; ‘burn dearg,’  red water; ‘galar dearg,’ red disease; ‘earna dhearg,’ ‘ earnach dhearg,’ red murrain; ‘earna dhubh,’ ‘earnach dhubh,’ black murrain. The red and the black murrain are two stages of this disease, which is produced by several causes. On the mainland it is generally caused by the cattle eating the young leaves of shrubs and trees, especially the bog myrtle, the alder, and the birch, and by drinking water impregnated with them. In the Isles the disease is caused chiefly by eating the sundew (drosera rotundofolia). Wherever sundew prevails red pleura is common. A place in South Uist is known as ‘Bogach na fala,’ marsh of blood, from the prevalence of sundew and its deadly effects. (CG ii, 238)

We’ll return to this account later on.

The first of Carmichael’s red water charms was gathered from Ann MacIsaac née Maclellan (c. 1808–1883), Ceann Langabhat, an t-Ìochdar, South Uist. Ann was the daughter of John Maclellan, farmer in Bòrnais, and his wife Christian Macmillan; she was probably from the same stock as the celebrated storyteller Angus MacLellan (1879–1949) from Loch Aoineort. In 1847 Ann married Hector MacIsaac, one of the principal seanchaidhean or storytellers in South Uist. Hector’s stories were first recorded by Hector Maclean in 1859 as part of John Francis Campbell’s Popular Tales of the West Highlands project. Alexander Carmichael clearly hit it off with the couple; perhaps they even regarded the young bachelor as the son they never had.

As we shall see in a later blog, Ann MacIsaac may have been the first person from whom Alexander Carmichael recorded charms and incantations, the genre with which he would go on to make his reputation in the first two volumes of Carmina Gadelica, published in 1900. Among the six charms she apparently gave to him on 16 October 1867 was Eòlas a’ Bhun-deirg, the Red Water Charm. Here is his later transcription:

Muir mor eas ruadh,

Ruith eir d’ fhual

Stad eir d’ fhuil.

Great sea, red cascade,

May your urine flow,

May your blood stop.

Note: this is thrice repeated over the sick animal afflicted with ‘Red water’. [CW87 fo.18^v]

Liquid imagery of sea, river, and waterfall, together with commands to flow or stop, are probably universal in all European charms concerning blood and urine, whether they’re intended against red water or for staunching wounds.

There was, however, one major problem with Ann MacIsaac's charm for Alexander Carmichael when he was compiling and creating Carmina Gadelica. It was far too short to be printed as a stand-alone item. In a subsequent blog we shall take a look at what might have been his solution. 

“Reciters are the most egotistical set I have ever met”

In a rare and fascinating piece recorded on 24 April 1866 by Alexander Carmichael from Hector MacIsaac, or Eachann mac Ruaraidh (c. 1797–1878), a joiner by trade who hailed from Carnan, Iochdar, South Uist, we glimpse the thoughts of a tradition bearer revealing what he actually believed about the tales he possessed and what he thought of other tradition bearers. Such opinions would have been the topic of conversation before Carmichael wrote down the main object of his quarry – songs, charms, tales, proverbs, etc. – and so were not often recorded. It is noteworthy that Carmichael opined that: ‘Reciters are the most egotistical set I have ever met’ for, he continues, they say that they are the best and every other tradition bearer is inferior to them. Perhaps Carmichael might be a tad guilty of tarring others with the same brush here but there is no doubt that some, if not many, tradition bearers could be jealous of another’s repertoire and their ability as storytellers. At the very least this shows a human side to the art of storytelling. Such was the impact of Hector MacIsaac on Carmichael that he was moved to write about him in his introduction to Carmina Gadelica:

Hector Macisaac and his wife were the only occupants, their daughter being at service trying to prolong existence in her parents. Both had been highly endowed physically, and were still endowed mentally, though now advanced in years. The wife knew many secular runes, sacred hymns, and fairy songs; while the husband had numerous heroic tales, poems, and ballads.

I had visited these people before, and in September 1871 lain F. Campbell of Islay and I went to see them. Hector Macisaac, the unlettered cottar who knew no language but his own, who came into contact with no one but those of his own class, his neighbours of the peat-bog, and who had never been out of his native island, was as polite and well-mannered and courteous as Iain Campbell, the learned barrister, the world-wide traveller, and the honoured guest of every court in Europe. Both were at ease and at home with one another, there being neither servility on the one side nor condescension on the other.

The stories and poems which Hector Macisaac went over during our visits to him would have filled several volumes. Mr Campbell now and then put a leading question which brought out the storyteller’s marvellous memory and extensive knowledge of folklore.

Also notable is a name that has been mentioned before in this blog. Ruaraidh Ruadh, or the Red-haired Catechist (c. 1750–c. 1830), who had a major impact on the oral tradition of Uist as can be seen from the last passage.

Hector MacIosag despises mythological
tales and says they are great rubbish in which
I fear many men of greater pretention [sic]
will concur. But of the Fingalians
tales he declares them to be worthy [of] the
attention of princes – that they are the
most elegant excellent and delightful
tales that man could listen to. He
says that he heard tales read as repeated
by persons whom he knows and that
the tales were so garbled and mangled
that he hung down his head and
closed his ears for very shame. He
declares that When [he] is done planting
his potatoes he will travel over the
F[ord]– a dis[tance] of about 26 m[iles]. – to give me
a proper opp[ortunity] of taking down every word
he has before he dies. He says he he [sic] [has]
neither son nor dau[ghter] except one
little girl to whom he can leave his
legacy of prose and poetry. And as
he likes me better than any other
person in the world he is desirous
I should become poss[essor] of this invaluable
legacy. Ind[eed] he considers it an imper[tinence]
that his young daug[hter] does not exhibit
a wish to become poss[essor] of these tales of
the Fein[n]e in prose and poetry. He dec[lares]
that there is no man from the Butt of
Lewis to Barra Head – 200 m[iles] – who has
the history of the Fing[alians] so well as he. Re[citers]
are the most egotistical set I have
ever met. Each thinks himself much
better than his neigh[bour] in reciting. Each
declares that other re[citers] are only garbling
the tales. Ruarai Ruadh from whom
E[achann] MacIosaig learnt his tales died a-
bout 40 y[ears] ago – about 80 years of age.
A gentleman came from Edin[burgh] to take
down from him. He remained several weeks
from writing from his dictation.
For excelling so much in this L[ord] MacDon[ald]
generously gave him a house and piece
of land free of rent and this he enjoyed
while he lived. Proba[bly] he was the last Ga[elic?]
reciter who enjoyed free lands for his an[cient]
lore. He was a catechist and used to go
about catechising but in the reality
his audiences were more partial to his
old lore than to better talk. And truth to say
we believe the old man took more delight
in reciting and expounding the Fing[alian]
tales and poems than those of the Bible.


References:
Carmina Gadelica i, p. xx
CW 104, fos. 83v–82v

Image:
Carnan, Iochdar, South Uist