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.

A Strathconon Phlebotomist in the Loudies

The series of scrapbooks from CW537 to CW576, filled with newspaper cuttings from newspapers published across the Highlands and beyond, has been rather neglected by the Carmichael Watson Project over the years. A recent query from Dr Jake King of Ainmean-àite na h-Alba/Gaelic Place-Names of Scotland sent us back to the strongroom shelves to have a second look at what is a wonderful resource. Local newspaper columns at the end of the nineteenth century, buzzing with letters and articles, served as a clearing-house for discussion about all kinds of items connected with Highland literature, lore, and history. The great Gaelic scholars of the time kept a close eye on Highland newspapers for any material of interest, and it looks as if we have in the CW collection examples of the cuttings books of Alexander Macbain, the Rev. Charles M. Robertson, Prof. William J. Watson, and Henry Whyte (‘Fionn’).

We look forward to the digitisation of all newspapers in the British Library collection currently being carried out. When – eventually – these are accessible online, it will allow those of us with an interest in Highland history and culture to investigate and assess a still sorely underused level of literature, an ephemeral and lively medium half-way between manuscripts and printed books. We worry, though, that some newspapers may be lost forever: one grievous loss, for example, appears to be the West Coast edition of the Highland News, the main outlet for Gaelic material in that paper. Only the Inverness edition, fascinating though it is, has been archived for posterity.

Here’s one example out of thousands preserved in the cuttings books: a (very lightly edited) Highland Reaper’s Song, transcribed from CW558, p. 34, a cutting from the Northern Chronicle, 4 March 1885:

THE HIGHLAND REAPER’S SONG

SIR, – Reading to-day the last volume issued of the Life of Thomas Carlyle, I was reminded, by a passage quoted (p. 325) from a letter to his wife, of some fragments of a song – of no great merit, certainly – which I used to hear sung more than sixty years ago by Highland shearers on their return from the ‘Loudies’ (Lothians). Their composition was ascribed to the ‘Bard Conanach.’ I am sure there must be a good many more verses than those which I send you, but I can recall no more – and no great matter! – Yours, &c. OCTOGENARIAN.

Tomnafeille, 24th. Feb. 1885

Tha mi ’n diugh ann an Dunèdin,
’S bha mi ’n dé ann an Dunbàr,
’S bi mi ’maireach an Dunchailion,
’S bi mi ’nearar ann am Blàr.

   So haorăvi ho-ru-nŏ-ŏ,
   So haorăvi ho-ru-naan,
   So haorăvi ho-ro-eile,
   ’S mo rùn fein dhuit gu bhi slàn.

Chaith mi ùin’ aig Port-na-ban-Righ
(’S beag a bh’ agam ’shannt ri tàmh),
Gus an d’ thainig am fear crubach
A chuireadh na siuil ris a bhàt.

…..

’S tha na leabannan cho daor ac’
Gun an t-eudach a bhi slàn;
’S bi na boguis ga mo chaobadh,
Mas ’gabh mi ’s an eudach blàs.
   So haorăvi, &c.

Ach cuiridh mise m’ aghaidh dhachaidh,
’S ann gu tìr nan cas-bheann àrd,
Far am biodh na mnathan fialaidh,
Nach do chleachd ’bhi ’g iarraidh pàigheadh.
   So haorăvi, &c.

Port na Bànrigh is of course Queensferry, while the hungry boguis are none other than (bed)bugs. The reference to Carlyle’s biography is to rather biased observations about Irish and Highland reapers in James Anthony Froude’s Thomas Carlyle: A History of his Life in London (London, 1884), volume i, p. 325. We don’t (yet) know who the Northern Chronicle’s ‘Octogenarian’ correspondent was. Tomnafeille, however, might be Tomnafeil, now anglicised as Markethill, in Fort Augustus – though there is another possible candidate in Markethill near Dunbeath.

Am Bàrd Conanach was the sawyer Donald MacDonald (1780–1832), whose life is described in John Mackenzie (ed.), Sàr Obair nam Bard Gaelach (Glasgow, 1841), pp. 347–51, and in Keith Norman MacDonald (ed.), MacDonald Bards from Mediæval Times (Edinburgh: Norman MacLeod, 1900), pp. 48–9.

In his paper ‘The Gaelic Incantations and Charms of the Hebrides’, published in the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, xviii (1891–2), pp. 157–8 [reprinted in booklet form as Gaelic Incantations: Charms and Blessings of the Hebrides (Inverness: Northern Counties Newspaper and Publishing Company, 1895), pp. 61–2], William Mackenzie prints a blood staunching charm he had learnt from:

Duncan Campbell, an old Strathconan man, now resident in Beauly. He learnt it from a sister of Donald MacDonald, the Bard Conanach. The Bard, it appears, was celebrated for his Charms and Incantations, and taught the present one to his sister.

In an accompanying footnote, Mackenzie prints the following anecdote:

In local tradition he is represented as having been particularly successful both in letting and in staunching blood. On one occasion, while at the harvest in the Lothians, he lodged with a weaver, who was also a noted phlebotomist. A full-blooded damsel of the district called on the weaver in order that he might let her blood. He tried with all his skill, but the blood would not come. Whereupon the Bard took the damsel in hand, and, taking her by the small of the wrist, squeezed an artery, with the result that the blood squirted in the weaver’s face. The weaver desired the Bard to show him his method. The Bard responded in verse:–

Cha tugainn eolas mo lamh fhein
Dh’fhear bhualadh slinn no chuireadh i;

Lot thu gairdean na nighean dhonn
’S cha ’n fhac thu steall de ’n fhuil aice;

’S an uair a theannaich mi caol a dùirn
Mu ’dha shuil bha ’n fhuil aice.

Obviously, for somebody such as the bard who made his living from sharp blades – and, perhaps, from sharpening blades at the reaping – the skill of staunching blood would be very useful, and maybe rather lucrative as well.

Sources: CW558, p. 34 [Northern Chronicle, 4 March 1885].
Froude, James Anthony. Thomas Carlyle: A History of his Life in London (2 vols, London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1884), i, p. 325.
MacDonald, Keith Norman (ed.). MacDonald Bards from Mediaeval Times (Edinburgh: Norman MacLeod, 1900), pp. 48–9.
Mackenzie, John (ed.). Sàr Obair nam Bard Gaelach (Glasgow, 1841), pp. 347–51.
Mackenzie, William. ‘The Gaelic Incantations and Charms of the Hebrides’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, xviii (1891–2), pp. 157–8.

Image: F. H. Mole, Highland Reapers (engraving).

The Sweet Sorrow – An Arthurian Ballad IV

The last instalment of the famous Arthurian ballad Am Bròn Binn (‘The Sweet Sorrow’) was taken down from Maighread Dhòmhnallach, or Margaret MacDonald, from Malacleit, North Uist. In contrast to the other two versions already given, this seems to be a rendition of the perhaps more familiar ballad rather than a waulking song. Carmichael appends a note to this version saying just that but also lamenting the fact that his busy work schedule prevented him from transcribing any more versions of it. Perhaps this could be described as a blessing in disguise?

Bho, Mai’read (Maireirad) Dhomhnullach (“Mai’read nighean Aonais duinn?” Geari Iain Malachit, 10th Feb., 1870, Aois 83.

Noiche chai Arstar nan sluagh
Go tulach nan ruadh, nam buadh a shealg
Chunnagas a teurnadh o’n mhaogh
Gruagach a bailli cruth no ghrian’
’S cruit an laimh na h-ighinn oig
’S milis pog ’s as geal gne
’S co binn ’s ga na sheinn i chuirt
’S binne na purist a leig i leo
’S ann le fuaim a teudun binn
A chaidil an Righ na throm seimh. . . .
Mu’n ghruagach a sheinn an ceol
Nach faca i beo no mairbh
Thuirst Righ Sola ri Righ Fial. . . .
Le ’m long bhriagh bhreid gheal bhain.
Far an ga ’adh mo long gu tir
Chunnagas an oiteal dhe ’n chuan
Clach fhuar a fioclairean gorm. . . .
Far am bu lionar cuach agus cuirn
An aisighalla (? Bha Sior Ghallabha) na bhun
’S bha slaurai dhugh as a nuas
Sin an t-slaurai nach do gha crith
’S thog i casan na ruith suas
Bheil fear na creaige so slan
An d’ idir e cas no truas?
Cuis is fhaide liom nach lig
No corag dhianainn ris gu luath. . . .
Cuiremid ani thu sin. . . . .
Cha loisg teine e ’s cha dearg arm eir an fhear
Ach a chlai geur geala-ghlan fhein.
Goid thus an clai dhe ’n fhear
’S ann a bheir thu dheth an ceann
’S carpet sioda fo da bhonn
’S na bheannaich a Ni thu fhir (i.e., Ni-math)
’S trom an cion thug thu eir tuinn
Chunnagas an deigh ti’nn o’n mhuir
Oganach eir ghuin le airm
Bha spuir eil eir a chois dheis
’S bu leoir a dheiseac ’sa dhealbh
’S bha spuir eir eir a chois chli
Do dh-airgiod righ no dh-or feall
Thug mi leum a chum na spuir
De ma thug cha bu mhath a chiall
Thug easun glacadh eir arm
’S e ’m fear marbh a bhi na niall (vicinity)
’S ann agam a nist tha bhean
Is deirge leac
Na ’S ann fotham a bhios an t-each
Is luaith a chuir a chas eir feill (? feur)
’S ann mu ’m chois a bhios an cu
Is luath a chuir a shuil an sealg.
Sann liom dh-falbhas an long,
Is luaith a chuireadh tonn as a deigh,
Marcrac na fairge gu dian,
Falaireac+ an droim a chuain
Bhan ’n triuir braithse mu cheann na mne
Sin mar a mharcraich mi n t-each
Bu luaithe ’s bu reacar ceum
Nach ruig sibh Corra-ri-clach
Far am fuigh sibh beac mo sgeul,
Gu sli’un nam briara cearst
Far nach ga’tar cearst truas
Siod a cheist a chuirinn orst.
Brath do shloine no co d ainm,
Mis an currai nach do gha cosg,
Achiad mhac a bh aig Righ Fraing,
Liom a thiuteas clann Rig Greuig,
O mharbh ’ad fhein an treas fear,
Mus mail leat mise thorist leat
Treachaid leac chlann Righ Greuig,
Sin ’nuair a threachaid mi ’n leac,
Gle fharsuin mar b’ail le ’fein
Cladhaich an uaigh as a dil.
O si obair fir gu’n cheil,
Thug ise leum as an lic,
’S i bhean ghlic bu ro-ghlan snua.
’S leum an t-anam as a corp
Ochadan a noc gur truagh,
Nam biodh agams an sing leigh,
Gu’n cuirinn e fu feum san uair
Dhianainn t-abheothachadh triuir,
Cha ’n fhagainn ma run sna uaigh,
’S i nighean Righ Cholla ghrinn (2),
A chinnich leinn ’s bu mhor am beud
Mis an currai nach do gha cosg,
A chiad mhac a bh’ aig Righ Fraing (1),
Sin deire mo sgeoil,
S mar a sheinn ’ad am Bron Binn.

Note.—This seems to me a veritable Arthurian ballad, and, like other precious gems, ought, I think, to be prized for its rarity. But, I think, it has also the merit of being good besides being rare. There are several other versions, snatches, and expressions, which I would have transcribed had I time. But I am very busy just now, although with work less congenial than this.


The version with the chorus is sung by women while pulling cloth; the other is sung by men. These two versions seem to me to differ so considerably as to look like two separate ballads upon the same subject, rather than two separate versions of the same ballad.
1. Righ Fraing. Which is meant, King Francis or the Ling of France?—the last, I think.
2. Righ Cholla Ghrinn—King Colla.
Old King Coll was a jolly old soul,
Neither read nor write could he;
For to read or to write he thought useless quite,
For he kept a secretarie.—Old Song.


References:
Campbell, J. F., ‘Am Bron Binn’, The Highlander, no. 148 (11 Mar. 1876), p. 3.
Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, The Highlander, no. 148 (18 Mar., 1876), p. 3, cc. 1–3.
Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. IX (1879–1880), pp. 67–74.
Carmina Gadelica, v, pp. 86–105.
Gillies, William, ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part I: Folktales and Ballads’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 2 (Winter, 1981), pp. 47–72; ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part II: Romances and Learned Lore’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 3 (Summer, 1982), pp. 41–75.
Gowans, Linda, Am Bròn Binn: An Arthurian Ballad in Scottish Gaelic (Eastbourne: privately printed, 1992).
Image: King Arthur

The Sweet Sorrow – An Arthurian Ballad III

The next instalment of the famous Arthurian ballad Am Bròn Binn (‘The Sweet Sorrow’) provides some background material by way of a short but revealing song narrative. This, the second waulking song of the three versions contributed to The Highlander, was collected by Alexander Carmichael from Fionnaghal MacLeod, or Fionnaghal nic Chaluim, a cottar from Baleshare, North Uist on 23 March 1869. Again this version of the ballad was later republished by Carmichael in the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. IX (1879–1880), pp. 69–71.

Bho Fionnaghal Nic Leoid (“Fionnaghal ni Chalum”) coitear, Bailesear Uist Tua, 23 Marst, 1869—Aois 67.

“Gu de bh’ ann a ghrai, ach ban-drui-ear bho chionn fhad an t-saoghal, agus ghabh i gaol eir oganach eireacail uasal. Agus de ach a thainig i thun an righ na chadal agus bha i comhradh ’sa conaltradh ris fad na h-oiche. Dh-innis an Righ ann a mhaduin an t-ailleagan mna chum nan saoghal mu ’n is ghrian gu m faiceadh rist eir a toir agus nach tilleadh e gus am faigheadh e i ga d a ruigeadh e cul an t-saoghail. Dh-falbh e ’s bha e bliannaichean eir falbh eir a toir (seac raitheann, says her ballad), agus chunaig e sin teach, taigh, mar a thuigeas sibh, ann an aigeal a chuain’. ‘Ann an aigeal a chuain!’ ‘Ann an aigeal a chuain a ghrai! Ho! nach robh na bana-bhuitsichean ’s na ban-druiearun ’ad coma cait am bithead ’ad—bu choingeis leo muir no tir. Dhianadh ’ad taigh mar an fhaoileag stala ’s aird an t-Ioirst. ’S ann a sin a bha ’n caisteal ann an meadhon a chuain lan innsridh oir us airgid, strolta an t-sioda fodha ’us fo ’s a chionn, agus am boirionnach a sheinn an ceol dhan Righ na suidhe ann an ‘seur’ (chair) (cathair) oir agus streafon (carpet) sioda fo’ casun; slauraidhnean lionneneach oir ’us airgid eir chonaibh agus sleughann agus clai’nean caola cruadhach fionntrain (bronze) ri fraoithibh (walls).”

A Dhun-duigh sin, sa Dhun-duigh!
Iollair o’ na arach o,
A ghrian aluinn fad o’n mhuir
Iollairean us o ro i.
Ga (fo!) moch a ghoireas a chuach
Eir a bhuachaille Dhun-duigh.
La chai Arstar mac Righ nan sluagh
Iollair u’an orach o
Iollairean us oro i.


Eir tulach nam buadh, nan ruadh, a shealg,
Chunnacas a ti’un o’n mhuir,
Gruagach a b’ ailli cruth no ghrian.
Cruit an laimh na h-inibhin oig
Is milis pog ’s is geal deud
Aig fheothas ’s a sheinn i chruit
Gu’n thuit an righ na shuain seimh,
Co math ’s ga na sheinn i chruit
B’ fhearr na purist a thug i le.
Nuair dhuisg an Righ as a shuain
(Ochadan! an cadal truagh)
Bha ghruagach a sheinn an ceol
Gu’n fhios co e ’beo na ’marbh.
La’uir Fios Falaich gu fial
Theid mi fhein gu h-iarrai dhuit
Mi fhi ’mo ghille ’s mo chu
An truir a shire na mne.
Ghluais e fhe le ghille ’s le chu
Gu long ur a bhreid ghil bhain
Bha i seac raithean air muir
Mum facas ’ad fearunn no fonn
No ait an ga ’adh an long tamh
Chunnaig ad an aigeal a chuain
Caisteal buir’each min’gheal gorm
’Nam bhi tearnadh gu bhun
Thainig slaurai dhugh a nuas
Eagal cha d’ gha e no crith
Gabh e orra na ruith suas.
Bha ghruagach a sheinn an ceol
An cathair an or is taigh
Streafon an t-sioda fo bonn
Bheannaich Dia thu fhir
’S mor an cion thug thu thor tuinn
Chul nan cleac bu gheal a snuagh
Bha cu (an) taca ri eir eil
Eir a dhiana le sheuda buadh
Bha spuir oir eir a chois dheis
’S bha spuir eile eir a’ chois chli,
Bha spuir eile air a chois chli
A dh-airgiod righ ’sa dh-or feall
Dianamid suidhe ’s traoghamid fearg
S cuiremid cealg mu’n fhear mhor
Ciamar a ni thu sin
Ged bu tu laoch is fearr fo’n ghrein
’S nach loisg tein eir ’s mach dearg arm
Ach a chlai fo ’shlios
Ghoid ad an clai fo ’shlios
Bhoin ’ad dheth gu’n fhios ann ceann.
Ma’s math leat mis a bhuin leat
Innis dhomh beac co thu fein
’S mi Boine Bo’each nam flath
Chead mhac a bh’ aig Righ Fraing,
Ma’s math leat mis a bhuin leat
Treachaid leac a mhac Righ Greuig
Cladhaich an uaigh as a til (as an dil)*
’S bi siod obair fir gu’n cheil
Thug ise dudar leum dha’n lic
’S dh’ falbh an t-anam na ceo a (aiste?)

References:

Campbell, J. F., ‘Am Bron Binn’, The Highlander, no. 148 (11 Mar. 1876), p. 3.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, The Highlander, no. 148 (18 Mar., 1876), p. 3, cc. 1–3.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. IX (1879–1880), pp. 67–74.

Carmina Gadelica, v, pp. 86–105.

Gillies, William, ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part I: Folktales and Ballads’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 2 (Winter, 1981), pp. 47–72; ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part II: Romances and Learned Lore’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 3 (Summer, 1982), pp. 41–75.

Gowans, Linda, Am Bròn Binn: An Arthurian Ballad in Scottish Gaelic (Eastbourne: privately printed, 1992).

Image: King Arthur

The Sweet Sorrow – An Arthurian Ballad II

A theme touched upon a few months ago was the famous Arthurian ballad Am Bròn Binn (‘The Sweet Sorrow’), of which two Gaelic versions were given. This ballad seems to have held a particular fascination for Alexander Carmichael as he contributed an article, giving another three versions of it, to the Inverness-based newspaper The Highlander. It came in the wake of the article already referred to in the previous blog which was contributed by John Francis Campbell but with material supplied by Carmichael. The first version given here appears in the form of a waulking song and was collected from Mary MacLellan (née MacDonald), the wife of Alexander MacLellan, a crofter in Tigharry in North Uist. This version of this ballad was later republished in the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. IX (1879–1880), pp. 68–69; and also an extra piece of information is contained in Carmina Gadelica, ii, where a note is given whereby the reciter is said to have heard the ballad from Fionnghal nighean Eóghain, Hoghearraidh [North Uist], who died in 1860, aged 80 years.

Bho Mhairi Nic an Liallain (nee Donullach) bean Alastair ’ic an Liallain craoitear Taighearaidh Uiste Tuath, 22d Oct., 1868.—Aois 44.

(Oran luadhaidh)
Iollairean us o ro i
An t-aobhar mu n taine mi steach
Iollair o’an orach o.
Ni mi e mu’ n teid mi mach,
Iollairean us o roi,
La chai Astar na’n sluagh,
Iollair orach o’an o ro.

Gu tulach na’m buadh a shealg,
Chunnacas a tighinn o’n mhuir,
Gruagach is ailli cruth fo’n ghrein,
Cruit an laimh na h-ineghil uir,
Ga glan a gnuis ’s ro-maith gne,
Aig feothas dha na sheinn i ’n ceol,
Gu’n thuit an Righ le (a) suain,
Nuair a dhuisg e as a shuain
Thug e lamh gu luath eir arm.
A bhean sin a sheinn an ceol,
Nach facas a beo no ’marbh
Dh-imich e fhe ’sa ghille sa chu,
Eir luing uir a bhreid-ghil bhain,
Far sheac seacuineann ’as tri mios,
Bha thu sgath ri siubha cuain,
Mu n d-fuair thu cala no fonn,
Anns an ga’adh an long tamh.
Chunnacas an iomal a chuain
Caisteal min-gheal buidheach (i.e., boidheach) gorm
Uinneagan glain eir a stuaigh,
Bu lionar ann cuach us corn.
’Sa ghruagach a sheinn an ceol,
An cathair an or is taigh,
Strefon sioda fo da bhonn
Bheannaich mise ga gnuis ghil.
’Sann agam fhein a bha ’n long,
Is luaith a chuir tonn a deigh,
’Sann agam fhein a bha’n cu
Is luaith a chuir a shuil a (n) seilg
Sann agam fhien a bha n t-each
Is luaith a chuir a chas eir feur
’S ann agam fhein a bha bhean
Is deirge leac ’s is gile deud,
Na bheannaich thu bria’ras fhir
Stuagh an cion thug thu thar tuinn
Eir a-laimhsa a ni bhan
Is coma liom do ghradh is d-fuath
Dianamid bruithinn us traoghamid fearg
Us cuiremid cealg mu n fhear mhor
Gu deamar a ni thu sin
S nach thu laoch is fear fo’n ghrein
Cha lais teine, ’s cha dearg arm eir an fhear
Ach a chlai geur glan fhein
Gun ghoid mi n clai bho shlios
Thug mi dheth gu’n fhiosd an ceann
Ogain ors ise thainig o (n) lear
O’ sann leat a chuireadh an t-euc—
Innis eir thoiseach do sgeul
Co thu fein no de d’ ainm.
Mise Boine Boidheach na’m flath,
Agam a tha teac do sgeul
Ma’s ail leat mis bhi leat,
Treachaid leac a (do) mhac Righ Greuig,
Treachaid leac eir ailios mne
Be siod obair fir gu’n cheil,
Gu’n ghearr ileum as (anns) an lic,
A bhean ghlic bu ro-ghlan anuagh.
A Dhun-duigh sin sa Dhun-duigh,
A Ghrianain aluinn fad o’n mhuir,
Gur moch a ghoireas a chuach,
Eir a ghualinsa Dhun-duigh,
Sin agaibh deire mo sgeuil.
S mar a chuala mi o thus.

References:

Campbell, J. F., ‘Am Bron Binn’, The Highlander, no. 148 (11 Mar. 1876), p. 3.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, The Highlander, no. 148 (18 Mar., 1876), p. 3, cc. 1–3.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Na h-Iollaireann’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. IX (1879–1880), pp. 67–74.

Carmina Gadelica, v, pp. 86–105.

Gillies, William, ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part I: Folktales and Ballads’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 2 (Winter, 1981), pp. 47–72; ‘Arthur in Gaelic Tradition. Part II: Romances and Learned Lore’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, vol. 3 (Summer, 1982), pp. 41–75.

Gowans, Linda, Am Bròn Binn: An Arthurian Ballad in Scottish Gaelic (Eastbourne: privately printed, 1992).

Image: King Arthur

Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore – V

In the final instalment from the article submitted to the Northern Chronicle, Alexander Carmichael gives some interesting, if rather general, background details about the various Uist men and women from whom he collected the materials that make up a substantial part of his collection. Carmichael was in the main not an overtly political individual, leaving such matters to others, but he could not resist firing a barb at those who were insistent upon denigrating the good folk of Uist. For instance, his article written in support of the crofting community, which forms but one of the appendices of the Royal Commission’s Report on Crofting, was praised thus:

At the last meeting of the Crofter Royal Commission, the members discussed the various papers that had come before them. ‘Some praised one paper and some another,’ said Professor Mackinnon, ‘but there was only one opinion among us all that your paper, Mr. Carmichael, is the paper of the Commission—a paper which will live as long as the English language lasts. I was asked to tell you this, and to thank you for it.’

Fine words for a fine paper, one might say.

MAR CHIREIN NAN STUAGH.

The following verses are said to have been composed in Benbecula in the time of bows and arrows. They are singularly chaste, beautiful, and elevated. They indicate, I think, the wonderful natural refinement of the people who could appreciate, preserve, and repeat these, and whole libraries of similar oral literature, throughout the past ages.

The oral literature of the Highlands and Islands is singularly pure in tone and poetical in expression. I have taken down large quantities of this literature, probably a small library in mass, and I have never heard, either in this or among the people, an unbecoming word or an impure story.

I went much among the very poorest of people, among a people whose pinched features betrayed their poverty, yet during nearly seventeen years in Uist I was never once asked for charity. Their proprietor in South Uist, the late Mr John Gordon, did not exaggerate when he said―“The Uist people are all born gentlemen―every man of the them.” Yet, these are the people so often misrepresented, and sometimes so cruelly maligned by men who do not know them.

The Uist people are excellent workers, and for the farming best adapted for their country infinitely before the best farming representatives that have been brought against them from the south. All these successively have had to adopt the native system of farming, after proving the unsuitableness of their own.

Mar chirein nan stuagh uaine, ta mo ghaol,
A h-eugas tlath, mar dhearsa speuran ard;
Mar sheudas loinneireach, a da shuil chaoin;
Mar arradh air bharr sleibh, fo ghrein nan trath.


O! càit am facas bean is aille snuagh,
Cà ’m facas riabh air cluain, le ceumaibh sèimh,
Do shamhuil fein, a gheug nam mile buadh,
Mar chlacha, buadha, ’san or is aille sgèimh!

In the following translation I have endeavoured to adhere closely to the original.

THE WHITE CREST OF THE WAVE.

To the white crest of the green wave I like my love,
Her countenance warm, like the beaming sky above;
Like brilliant jewels are her two blue sparkling eyes,
Like the gleaming sunbeams, all radiant from the skies.


Oh! were has e’er been seen a lovelier form or face?
On lawn, or plain, or field, of statelier mien or grace?
The branch of thousand beauties, in thy pride of beauty’s joy,
Thou gem in purest gold, yea, gold with alloy!

References:

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore’, The Northern Chronicle, no. 177 (21 May, 1884), p. 3, cc. 5–6.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Grazing and Agrestic Customs of the Outer Hebrides’ in the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Condition of the Crofters and Cottars in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Parliamentary Papers, xxxiii–xxxvi, 1884), pp. 451–82.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Uist Old Hymns’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Glasgow, vol. i (1887–1891), pp. 34–47.

Image: Sea waves.

Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore – IV

In the penultimate extract from the article submitted to The Northern Chronicle, Alexander Carmichael takes up the subject of lullabies sung (and probably composed) by milkmaids. As in many rural societies, caring for cattle and processing the produce they provided were basic activities, naturally inspiring many songs that could be sung in order to put the cow at ease during milking-time. Carmichael notes that some cows became rather recalcitrant at milking-time if their favourite lullaby was not sung. Even more interesting is the process that was resorted to in order to get a cow to give milk when her calf had died.

TALADH NAM BANACHAG―THE LULLABIES OF THE MILKMAIDS.

These lullabies are sung by the milkmaids of Uist to soothe their cows. They are varied in tone and measure, while not infrequently these change to the same song to suit the different actions of milking.

The cows become so accustomed to these milking lilts that they will give their milk without them; nor, occasionally, without their own favourite airs. Hence a milkmaid. 

‘Who has no music in her soul.’

succeeds but indifferently among a fold of Highland cows. Owners of stock prefer as milkmaids those who are possessed of some voice and ‘go’ to please the cows, this being to them a matter of considerable imporatance.

The following air, one of many, is sung by milkmaids in South Uist as they milk their cows:―

O m’ adhan! Ho m’ adh min!
M’ adhan cri’, ceir, gradhach,
An’ ainm an Ard Righ,
Gabh ri d’ laogh (1)!

An’ oidhche bha am Buachaile muigh,
Cha deachaidh buarach air boin
Cha deachaidh geum a beul laoigh,
A coineadh Buachaile chruidh!


Thig a Mhoire ’us blith a bho,
Thig a Bhride ’s comraig i;
Thig a Chalum Chille chaoimh,
’S iadh do dha laimh mu m’ bhroin!


Mo bho lurach dhubh, no na h-airidh,
Bo a bhathaiche! mathair laogh!
Luban siamain air crodh na tire,
Buarach shid air m’ adhan gaoil!


’S a bho dhubh sin! ’s a bho dhubh!
’S ionan galar domha ’us duite―
Thus a choidh do cheud laoigh caoin,
Mis ’us ’an aon mhac gaoil fo’n mhuir!
Mis ’us ’án aon mhac gaoil fo’n mhuir!

(1) Occasionally a calf dies and the mother cow is restive, and will not give the milk. To quiet her, and obtain her milk from her, the skin of her dead calf is placed on a skeleton frame calf, made for the purpose. This is placed before the cow, and the deception has the desired effect. The skin, however, must be that of the cow’s own calf. That of another cow’s calf, however much like her own in colour and skin, is disdainfully tossed aside and kicked away by the cow.

In wooded districts, where rods are got, the frame calf is made of wicker work. This sham calf is variously called Laoicionn, Loircean, Lulagan, Tulgan, and Tulachan. The first two names refer to the skin and appearance of the sham calf, while the last three names refer to the rocking, fretting motion of the calf when sucking under its mother. A boy near moved the tulachadh now and again, to make the cow believe that all is right, while the maid is busy the while taking away the milk from the pleased cow! This is the origin of the term “tulchan,” as applied to the a bishop who draws the stipend but does not perform the work of a bishop―a term sufficiently known in Scottish ecclesiastical history.

THE MILKING SONG.―CLOSE TRANSLATION.

O! my heifer, ho! my gentle heifer,
My heifer as full of heart, generous and kind.
In the name of the High King,
Take to thy calf (1).


That night the Herdsman was out,
No shackle went on a cow,
Nor ceased a low from a calf,
Wailing the Herdsman of the flock.


Come Mary (Virgin) and milk the cow;
Come Bridget and encompass her;
Come Calum Cille, the beneficent,
And wind thine arms around my cow.


My lovely black cow, thou pride of the shealing!
First cow of the byre, choicest mother of calves;
Wisps of straw round other cows of the townland,
But a shackle of silk on my heifer so loved.


Thou black cow mine! own gentle black cow!
The same disease afflicts thee and me;
Thou art grieving for thy beautiful first calf!
And I for mine only beloved son under the sea!
And I for my only beloved son under the eas!

‘One touch of nature makes the whole akin.’

TALADH NA BANACHAIG.―THE MILKMAID’S LULLABY.

The following poem is interesting from the three chiefs introduced at the end. Although these lilts were meant only to soothe and quiet the cows in being milked, they yet show, unconsciously, much that is interesting of the past, if not of the present, life of the Highlands and Islands.

Fonn.―Ho m’ adhan! ho m’ adh min!
Ho m’ adhan! ho m’ adh min!
Ho m’ adhan! ho m’ adh min!
A chridheag chri, is toigh lium thu.


Fhaic thu bho ud air an liana,
’S a laogh mear aic air a bialaibh,
Dean thusa mar a rinn thu cheana,
Thoir am bain’ a laoigh na Fianach.
Ho m’ adhan, &c.


Thoir am baine bho dhonn!
Thoir am baine gu trom ’s gu torrach;
Thoir am baine bho dhonn,
’S na h-uaislean a tigh’inn an bhaile.
Ho m’ adhan, &c.


Thoir am baine bho dhonn!
’S gu’n ann daibh ach an t-aran!
Thoir am baine bho dhonn―
Macneil! Macleoid! MacAilean!
Ho m’ adhan, &c.

THE MILKMAID’S LULLABY.―CLOSE TRANSLATION.

Chorus.―Ho my heifer! ho my heifer fair!
Ho my heifer! ho my heifer fair!
Ho my heifer! ho my heifer fair!
Thou heartling, heart I love thee!


Behold that cow on the plain,
With her frisky calf before her;
Do thou as she did a while ago―
Ho my heifer, ho my heifer fair.


Give thy milk brown cow,
Give thy milk so abundant and rich;
Give thy milk brown cow,
And the gentles coming to the townland.
Ho my heifer, &c.

Give thy milk brown cow,
And that there is nothing for them but bread.
Give thy milk brown cow―
Macneil! Macleod! Clanranald!
Ho my heifer, &c.

References:

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore’, The Northern Chronicle, no. 177 (21 May, 1884), p. 3, cc. 5–6

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Grazing and Agrestic Customs of the Outer Hebrides’ in the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Condition of the Crofters and Cottars in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Parliamentary Papers, xxxiii–xxxvi, 1884), pp. 451–82.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Uist Old Hymns’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Glasgow, vol. i (1887–1891), pp. 34–47

Image: Milkmaid

Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore – III

In contrast to the previous blog, here is another excerpt from the article which Alexander Carmichael submitted to The Northern Chronicle, where the emphasis changes tack to outside activities. Cattle were for a long period of time a stable of the Highland economy, a fact well attested by the number of songs, stories, poems and the like concerning cattle raiding, rustling, droving, rearing and, of course, milking and herding. It is little wonder, given their important status, that there should be such a vast quantity of traditions about cattle. Protection of the herd – whether from a natural or supernatural menace – by supplicating the powers of good was paramount as can be seen from the following example of this genre:

BEANNACHADH BUACHAILLEACHD.―THE HERDING BLESSING

Cuireannsa na spreidh so romham,
Mar a dh-orduich Righ an domhain.
Moire ga’n gleidheadh, ga’m feitheadh, ga’n coimhead,
Air bheann, air ghleann, air chomhnard,
Air bheann, air ghleann, air chomhnard.


Eiridh a Bhride mhin-gheal,
Glacsa do chir agus d’ fholt,
O rinn thu daibh eolas gu’n amhradh
Ga’n cumail o chall ’s o lochd,
Ga’n cumail o chall ’s o lochd.


O chreag, o chabhan, o allt,
O chara cam, o mhile sluichd,
O shaighdhe nam ban seanga sith
O chridhe mhi-ruin, o shuil an uilc,
O chridhe mhi-ruin, o shuile an uilc.

A Mhoire Mhathar! cuallaiche an t-al gu leir!
A Bhride nam basa-mine, dionsa mo spreidh!
A Chalum chaoimh, a naoimh is fearr buadh,
Comraig-sa crodh an ail, beirig am buar,
Comraig-sa crodh an ail, beirig am buar.

THE HERDING BLESSING.―CLOSE TRANSLATION.

I place this flock before me,
As ’twas ordered by the King of the World,
Mary Virgin to keep them, to wait them, to watch them,
On ben, on glen, on plain,
On ben, on glen, on plain.

Arise thee, Brigdet, the gentle, the fair,
Take in thine hand thy comb and thy hair;
Since thou to them readest the charm,
To keep them from straying, to save them from harm,
To keep them from straying, to save them from harm.


From rocks, from snow-wreathes, from streams,
From crooked rays, from destructive pits,
From the arrows of the slim fairy woman,
From the heart of envy, from the eye of evil,
From the heart of envy, from the eye of evil.


Mary mother! tend thou the offspring all,
Bridget of the white palms! should thou my flocks,
Columba, beloved! Thou saint of best virtues,
Encompass the breeding cattle, bestow thy protection on the herds,
Encompass the breeding cattle, bestow thy protection on the herds.

References:

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore’, The Northern Chronicle, no. 177 (21 May, 1884), p. 3, cc. 5–6

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Grazing and Agrestic Customs of the Outer Hebrides’ in the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Condition of the Crofters and Cottars in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Parliamentary Papers, xxxiii–xxxvi, 1884), pp. 451–82.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Uist Old Hymns’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Glasgow, vol. i (1887–1891), pp. 34–47

Image: Highland Drove

Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore – I

Perhaps in order to appeal to a wider readership, Alexander Carmchael took the opporunity to have his paper on ‘Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore’ reprinted in the Inverness-based newspaper The Northern Chronicle. Some two years previously Carmichael had, at the bequest of the influential Lord Napier, put together a report entitled ‘Grazing and Agrestic Customs of the Outer Hebrides’ in the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Condition of the Crofters and Cottars in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Parliamentary Papers, xxxiii–xxxvi, 1884), pp. 451–82. It appears that Carmichael’s contribution to this official government report had met with commendation and so it is likely that such encouraging signs gave him scope to publish his material at a more popular level. The example given here is smooring the hearth fire which basically means making the hearth safe for the night – and presumably preventing house fires. Judging from several prayers associated with it in Carmina Gadelica, there was a ritual of protection associated with it. In the modern context we may extend it, symbolically, to blessing and protecting the home before retiring for the night.

URNAIGH SMALAIDH TEINE―PRAYER OR “SMOORING” THE FIRE.

The following beautiful little prayer is said by the women in South Uist while putting up their fire for the night. And the people believe that those mentioned in the prayer do watch over themselves and their households and shield them from harm while they sleep.

                                                   “Kind hearts are more than coronets
                                                    And simple faith than Norman blood.”

The Scotch word “smooring,” smothering, is the nearest equivalent of the Gaelic word smaladh that occurs to me.

Tha mi smaladh an teine
Mar a smalas Mac Moire,
Gu mu slan dha’n taigh s’ dha’n teine
Gu mu slan dha’n chuideachd uile.
Co sid air a lar? Peadar agus Pal.
Co air a bhi’eas an fhaire nochd?
’Moire mhin-gheal ’s air a Mac.
Beul De a thuradh, aingeal De a labhradh:
Aingeal an dorus gach taighe
Ga’r comhnadh ’s ga’r gleidheadh
Gu’n tig la geal a maireach.

Translation:―

I smoor the fire,
As it is smoored by the Son of Mary,
Blest be the house, blest be the fire,
And blessed be the people all.
Who are those on the floor? Peter and Paul.
Upon whom devolves the watching this night?
Upon fair gentle Mary and her Son.
The mouth of God said, the angel of God tells.
An angel in the door of every house,
To shield and to protect us all,
Till bright day-light comes in the morning.

References:

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Grazing and Agrestic Customs of the Outer Hebrides’ in the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Condition of the Crofters and Cottars in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Parliamentary Papers, xxxiii–xxxvi, 1884), pp. 451–82.

Carmichael, Alexander, ‘Hebridean Hymns and Popular Lore’, The Northern Chronicle, no. 177 (21 May, 1884), p. 3, cc. 5–6.

Image: Blackhouse Hearth.