Tha Mo Rùn air a’ Ghille / I Love the Lad II

Dr Keith N. MacDonald – it may be recalled – was one of the foremost experts of his day on Highland music and was more than a competent player on the fiddle. As a regular correspondent to The Oban Times he contributed many articles (some of which would later appear in book form) about various aspects of Gaelic culture, ranging from songs and music to the Ossianic controversy (and he, like Alexander Carmichael, held a sympathetic view of James Macpherson). In this particular article Carmichael is name-checked again, and a couple of additional verses of Tha Mo Rùn air a’ Ghille have been appended. There is also an interesting background to the way in which Carmichael came by the song. With regard to the age of the actual song, MacDonald’s speculation looks rather quaint and probably well wide of the mark but it is interesting to see how such scholars (and, we may add, collectors) understood their material. Such glimpses are fairly rare. The article ends with a familiar rant where MacDonald bemoans the lack of collectors who were willing, able and ready to preserve the oral tradition of the Gael and that as a result so much had fallen by the wayside; an accusation that certainly could not be levelled at his good friend Alexander Carmichael.

As an instance of the antiquity of Gaelic music I find on extended search an enquiry that the opinion I have always held regarding this class of music is being gradually confirmed. Some months ago I published a version of the beautiful Gaelic song “Tha mo run air a’ Ghille,” composed by a daughter of the Chief of the Grants of Glenurquhart, for Donald Donn of Bohuntin, who was executed in 1692, making it at least 209 years old. Since then I have come across evidence to show that it is probably much older than the 17th century. Mr Alex. Carmichael, in sending me a couple of verses of the song not generally known, mentions that he got them from Captain Anderson, Saltcoats, a native of Lismore, whose maiden aunt, Isabella MacGregor, was the most beautiful singer of Gaelic songs he had ever heard. Not the nightingale, says Mr Carmichael, at its best, had a more sustained and beautiful voice than had Miss MacGregor. Melody was as natural to her as it is to the mavis of the rock, the merle of the brake, or the lark of the sky, and in his opinion the song under consideration is very old. “At the close of the interesting and instructive Pan-Celtic Congress in Dublin in August last the president of the Congress, Lord Castletown, invited several of the delegates to the Congress to Donevaile Court, his country seat in the county of Cork. Five branches of Celts were represented there–Breton, Welsh, Manx, Irish, and Alban Celts. At this delightful house party songs of the five different dialects of the Celtic were sung and played. Among those was “Tha mo rùn air a’ Ghille.” “That,” said a Breton present, “is a Breton air,” and he sang a verse of the song to the same air in his native dialect. He further remarked that his old uncle had the whole song, and that it was considered very ancient. It is interesting to know that this beautiful air is known in Brittany as well as in the Highlands of Scotland, probably the common heritage of both branches of the Gael. Now, the interesting question here is when did it come to Scotland, prior to, or within historic times. The fact of its having been a well-known and popular air in the Highlands more than 200 years ago shows that it had nothing to do with the ’45 period. Of course there has been some intercourse between the French and the Scottish people for many centuries, but the latter would be much more likely to bring over brandy and tobacco, than “Tha mo rùn air a’ Ghille.” On the other hand, it is very unlikely that the Bretons imported it from the Highlands of Scotland. The most likely solution is that it was brought over from Gaul by the early Celts, and probably long before Caesar’s invasion of Great Britain. Historians, antiquarians, and philologists have their various opinions regarding problems of this nature, but the one that fits best is the most natural. When Britain was first peopled we know not, but it is extremely probable that the original inhabitants came over from the neighbouring coast of France, and at a time when the Straits of Dover were much narrower than they are at the present day. The period has probably been so remote, that one can hardly risk reducing it to figures. It might have been three or then thousand years ago or more, but whatever the time may have been “Tha mo rùn air a’ Ghille,” in all human probability come over from the original habitants of Great Britain, so that the least age I can claim for it is something more than two thousand years. It is interesting in connection with this subject that upwards of five millions of people speak “Breig” in Britanny, and of songs and airs they seem to have a vast number. Two of the Breton gentlemen who were at Donevaile Court have collected more than nine hundred Breton airs, and, other Bretons are doing similar work. Mr Carmichael complains that those people are in advance of us in collecting the music and songs of their country, and sadly laments that hundreds, probably thousands, of Gaelic songs and Gaelic airs have died out or been killed during the last two centuries, and prays for an earthquake to shake up the dry bones of Highland apathy!

MR CARMICHAEL’S VERSES
Moire ’s mo ghaol am fiùran,
Mach à teaghlach Bhothionndain (Chilliondain),
Sealgair fèidh am beinn a’ bhùiridh,
’S eilid luth nan luath air.

Naile, ’s e mo ghràdh an t-òigear,
Aig am bheil a phearsa bhòidheach,
Fhir ’chul-dualaich chuachaich òrbhuidh,
’S fiamh an ròis ’ad ghruaidhean.

References:
MacDonald, Dr Keith N., ‘Music and Song’, The Oban Times, no. 2448 (26 Oct., 1901), p. 3
Image: Portrait of Dr Keith N. MacDonald from The Celtic Monthly.

Tha Mo Rùn air a’ Ghille / I Love the Lad

It may be recalled from a previous blog – the fiftieth one to be precise – that we discovered a voice recording of Alexander Carmichael singing a famous Gaelic song, Tha Mo Rùn air a’ Ghille. Dr Keith N. MacDonald, who was the subject of a previous blog, submitted an article about this very song to The Oban Times and gives an interesting background to the song’s composition. Carmichael is also name-checked for the song was apparently his ‘parlour’ piece and it would seem that no social occasion was complete without the well-known Liosach singing his favourite song:

In the majority of the older Gaelic songs it is impossible even to guess when they were first composed, without some clue of a historical nature, hence it is of importance to note such a clue when it does present itself. The above being one of the most lovely of our Gaelic melodies, it is well worth tracing it to its source if that is now possible. The following version of it may or may not be the earliest, but, at any rate, it can be traced as far back as 1692–that is 209 years ago, and even then it might have been an old song. It was composed by the laird of Grant’s daughter to Donald Donn poet and politician, who, we know, was executed in 1691 or 1692. This Donald Donn was of the house of Bohuntin and Aberarder, a branch of the MacDonalds of Keppoch, the second son of John MacDonald, 4th of Bohuntin, and uncle of Gilleasbuig na Ceapaich. He was in love with a daughter of the chief of the Grants, of Glenurquhart, but as the Grants opposed the match, the young couple planned an elopement. Donald, to be close at hand, hid himself in a cave on the north side of Lochness, near “Réilig Gharraidh.” Here he was to remain until Miss Grant was able to join him, but Donald’s secret retreat was betrayed to Miss Grant’s brother, who had him decoyed into a house, and subsequently disarmed and taken to Inverness where he was executed in 1692. Mr Alexander MacDonald, of Upper South River, Nona Scotia, to whom I am indebted for the words of the song, and himself a scion of the family of Bohuntin, informs me that he was not executed in the Grants’ country as generally supposed, in 1691, but at Inverness in 1692. There is no one now living who can sing this beautiful song so well as Mr Alexander Carmichael the author of “Carmina Gadelica,” with his superb natural tenor voice, and exquisite taste and feeling. Some of the Gaelic societies should certainly have this song as sung by Mr Carmichael gramophoned, for the benefit and admiration of future generations:

Tha Mo Run air a’ Ghille

That Youth I Love

Do Dhomhul Donn Mac Fhir Bhothiuntainn le nighean Tighearna Ghrannd. Bha dùil aige i so a phòsadh mur bhi gu’n deachaidh e féin ’s a h-athair a mach air a chéile.

CHORUS.– Tha mo rùn air a’ ghille,
                     ’S mòr mo dhùil ri tìm thilleadh,
                    ’S mi gu’n siùbhladh leat am fireach
                     Fo shileadh nam fuar-bheann.

Tha thu ’d mhac do fh-fhear Bhothiuntinn
’S mise neaghan Tighearna Ghrannda,
’S rachainn leat a null do’n Fhraing
Ged bhiodh mo chàirdean gruamach.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Gur h-e m’ athair ’rinn an do-bheart.
Mise chumail gun do phòsadh
Shiùbhlainn leat ged b’ ann do’n Olaind
Ach do chòir a bhuannachd.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Rachainn leat har chuan do dh-Eirinn,
Rachainn leat air chuairt do’n Eiphit,
’S aig a mheud ’s a thug mi spies dhuit
B’ eutrom orm an t-uallach.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Nàil a ’s e mo cheist am fiùran
Dòmhnull Donn Mac Fhir Bothiunntinn
Fada is farsuinn a tha cliù
Air mùirnean nam ban uaisle.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Nàil a ’s e mo ghaol an t-òig-fhear
Dòmhnull Donn an leadain bhòidhich
Tha thu ’n fhìne àrd gun fhòtus
Dòmhnullaich a’ chruadail


Tha mo rùn, etc.


’S iomadh nighneag a tha ’n tòir ort
Eadar Inbhirnis is Mòrair
Ged a bhiodh air crùn do stòras
Phòsadh anns an uair thu.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Tha do phearsa cuimir dealbhach
’S math thig éididh dhut is armachd
Bu tu ’n curaidh treun neo-chearbach
Meanmach anns an tuasaid.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


’S math thig féile dhut ’s an fhasan,
Boineid ghorm is còta breacain
Osan gean is trì chuir ghartan
’S glas-lann air do chruachan.


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Cha ’n ’eil òganach cho ainmeile
Riut ’s a’ cheàrna so de dh-Albuinn
’S meirg a dhuisgeadh suas gu fearg thu


Tha mo rùn, etc.


Ged a gheibhinn-sa gu m’ òrdugh
Na tha dh’fhearann aig Diùc-Gordon,
’S mòr gu’m b’anns’ leam na stòras
Còir thoirt domh air m’ uaibhreach.


Tha mo rùn, etc.

Reference:
MacDonald, Dr Keith N., ‘The Age of “Tha Mo Run Air A’ Ghille.” (209 Years)’, The Oban Times, no. 2437 (12 Aug., 1901), p. 3, c. 2
Image: Portrait of Dr Keith N. MacDonald from The Celtic Monthly.

A Letter in Appreciation of Alexander Carmichael

Of course not a few letters, following many obituary notices, of Alexander Carmichael appeared in the press after the sad news of his passing. A colleague and contemporary of Carmichael’s was Dr Keith Norman MacDonald (1834–1913), a Skyeman, and a medical graduate of the University of St Andrews, who wrote a rather idiosyncratic if revealing character sketch - especially of his singing prowess - of his recently deceased friend. MacDonald is chiefly remembered for three works: The Gesto Collection of Highland Music (1895); The MacDonald Bards from Mediaeval Times (1900) and Puirt-a-Beul – Mouth-tunes: or Songs for Dancing as Practised from a Remote Antiquity by the Highlanders of Scotland (c. 1901). The latter two books were first published as a series of installments in The Oban Times over many issues at the turn of last century from 1899 to 1901. Both were exiled Highlanders living in Scotland’s capital and it is little wonder that with their shared interests they should have kept each other good company and in good cheer.

THE LATE

DR. ALEXANDER CARMICHAEL

[TO THE EDITOR OF “THE OBAN TIMES”]

                                                                                            21 Clarendon Crescent
                                                                                             Edinburgh, June 23, 1912

SIR, – I would like to place a stone on the cairn of the late Dr. Alexander Carmichael, who was very well known to me for many years. He was my only cronie in this Babylon of motor cars and motor busses and other devilments of modern civilisation, and I finer minded man I have never met. He was truly a man without guile.

I often remarked to him that I would like to meet a real Christian, as I had never met one. The only people I knew were members of sects, and each of these would see the others in perdition! That made him smile with satisfaction, at least to me. Our conversations, however, and there were many, were nearly all about the past. I often told him in my private study that I felt perfectly certain that no man living or dead would have done what he did, without pay or promise of reward, except himself, and that he must have come into this world for that purpose.

When a man does that which is worth doing, and which no one else could do, and does it well, and is a genius, not after mammon, but after truth, and hands it down unsullied to posterity, he deserves the highest reward that his countrymen can bestow upon him.

He and I often mapped out journeys which we would like to make together. One was to the old castle of Dunsgaith, in Skye, near which I first saw the light; and knowing that a prehistoric stone coffin had been found near the place many years ago, it was to be our principal points for attack. Another was Selma, where Fingal’s castle was said to have been. This place was to be thoroughly roused and trenched all over, and it used to amuse him very much my recital of all the treasures I expected to find there. On making a calculation, I found that we would require £1000 a year each for travelling and working expenses, and as there was no chance of getting that out of “present Government” (!) the idea was dropped.

My friend was very staunch on the Ossianic question. He often told me he felt was sure as he was alive that James Macpherson had originally Gaelic poems for all he printed, but joined many of them together to make long epics of them. The late Dr. Blair of Edinburgh was of the same opinion.

The dear old man did not like controversy, but he was as true as steel to his convictions. He loved the Highland people with all the sympathy and affection at his disposal, and rejoiced in all changes that were likely to improve their condition. He had some disappointments, however. On one occasion he walked a long distance to see an old woman who possessed some secret powers of divination, but she would not budge an inch, and gave him no satisfaction. If I ever meet her, I shall frighten her! I know where she lives. During his fifty years of work and travel he met with very few such cases.

One great charm about Dr. Carmichael was that he had a lovely singing voice–a high baritone of the richest quality, which would have made him a “star of the first magnitude” if he had had early training, but even without any training a rich natural voice is at its best when unadorned by artificial dodges.

A few evenings before his death he called on me here, and after our usual conversation he sang for me “Tha rùn air a ghille” as no one else could sing it. On that occasion I talked of having his songs and a splendid pibroch gramophoned for posterity, but the spoiler came and took him away, and with him these and many other things that will never be heard again! Verily a great patriot has passed away from amongst us. Peace be to his ashes!–I am, etc.

                                 K. N. MACDONALD

References:

Anon., ‘Dr Keith Norman MacDonald, FRCSE, Edinbane, Skye’, The Celtic Monthly, vol. II, no. 10 (1894), pp. 197–99.

MacDonald, K. N., ‘The Late Dr. Alexander Carmichael’, The Oban Times, no 3005 (29 Jun., 1912), p. 3, c. 6.

Image: Portrait of Dr Keith Norman MacDonald from The Celtic Monthly