A Curious Old Song – I

As has been mentioned before in this blog Nether-Lochaber, or the Rev. Alexander Stewart (1829–1901) and Alexander Carmichael were old friends and corresponded with one another on a regular basis. Not a few of the traditions collected by Carmichael made there way into print via the astute eye of Nether as can be seen from Chapter XVII of Stewart’s book ’Twixt Ben Nevis and Glencoe: The Natural History, Legends, and Folk-lore of the West Highlands (1885). Although not mentioned by name, the woman from whom Carmichael recorded the song was Peigi Robasdan nighean Alasdair ’ic Amhlaidh (Margaret MacAulay née Robertson) also known as Peigi Sgitheanach (1821–1881):

From the Outer Hebrides our friend Mr. Carmichael sends us a song which he took down on the 10th March 1869 from the dictation of a cottar woman at Howmore, South Uist, a woman who, though in a lonely position, has a keen sense of the humorous and ludicrous.

The following is the song; we retain Mr. Carmichael’s orthography as being more in keeping with the Outer Hebrides pronunciation of many of the words :

“NA TRI EOIN CHRUINNE-GHEALA DHONN.”

Fann—“Na tri Eoin chruinne-gheala dhonn,
Chruinne-gheala dhonn, chruinne-gheala dhonn,
Na tri Eoin chruinne-gheala dhonn,
’S b’ iad sid na tri Eoin!

I.
“Is dubh am fionn sin, ’s dubh am fionn
Chaidh mi butarscionn mo bhean;
Ma their mise, ’s dubh am fitheach,
Their is' gum beil am fitheach geal


II.
“Tha bean agam mar an deantag,
Bean is crainnte na tom druis;
Bean is teogha na seachd teinteann
Bean chruaidh chainntidh mharbh i mis!


III.
“Thogain tigh air laraich luim,
Chairinn bonn ri maide cas,
Thigeadh ise 's car na ceann,
‘’S meirig a rachadh ann a steach.’


IV.
“Dhianain treothadh, dhianain buain,
Dhianain cruach mar fhear a chach,
Theireadh i mar bha i beo,
Nach robh ann ach torr air làr.


V.
“Dhianain iasgach leis an doradh,
Mharbhain langa, mharbhain sgat;
Chuireadh ise ’lamh na cliabh,
’S dh-iarradh i sid ’thoirt an chat!


VI.
“Dhianain cuman air fiodh cruaidh,
A shuidheadh gu buan air an làr;
Chuireadh i h-anam an geall,
Gun robh e ’call air a mhàs!


VII.
“Teinne ga fhadadh mu loch
Gu tiormachadh cloich an cuan,
Teagasg ga thoirt do mhnaoi bhuirb,
Mar bhuil’ uird air iarann fuar?


VIII.
“Cha truimeid an loch an lach,
Cha truimeide an t’ each a shrian,
Cha truimeid’ a chaora a h-olainn,
'S cha truimeid’ a choluinn ciall!


Fonn—“Na tri eoin chruinne-gheala dhonn,
Chruinne-gheala dhonn, chruinne-gheala dhonn,
Na tri eoin chruinne-gheala dhonn,
’S b’ iad sid na tri eoin!”

Carmichael appends a note about the song adding some interesting detail from whom and from where the reciter originally heard this piece:

Compos[ed] by a jealous wrangling pair.
Heard only once by the reciter when a girl.
Never heard it again. This was in Morar
at a wedding. Sung by a man.

References:

CW107/18, fols. 23v–24v

Stewart, Rev. Alexander [Nether-Lochaber], ’Twixt Ben Nevis and Glencoe: The Natural History, Legends, and Folk-lore of the West Highlands (1885), pp. 119–23.

Image: A Couple Arguing

Taking the Best, Leaving the Rest

Historical legends were (and still are to some extent) a common enough type of story to met with in the Highlands and Islands. Some tradition bearers were renowned for their ability to specialise in this genre such as Angus MacLellan, or Aonghas mac Iain ’ic Chaluim, from Griminish (Benbecula), from whom many such tales were recorded by Calum Iain Maclean during the 1950s. Indeed, almost a century before John Francis Campbell of Islay remarked upon those storytellers who had a deep knowledge of certain genres which, it may be assumed, is where there interests lay:

...Each branch of popular lore has its own votaries, as branches of literature have amongst the learned; that one man is the peasant historian and tells the battles of the clans; another a walking peerage, who knows the descent of most of the families in Scotland, and all about its neighbours and their origin; and other are romancers, and tell about the giants; other are moralists, and prefer the sagacious prose tales, which have a meaning, and might have a moral; a few know the history of the Feni [sic], and are antiquarians.

In this particular tale, the son of Sir Seumas Ruadh (or Sir James MacDonald of Sleat), who was but only around five years of age at the time of Culloden and who died in 1766, plays a key role. Seumas Òg or James MacDonald of Sleat, acting as a kind of knight errant, sees off the ruthless big bailiff through the intervention of his nursemaid. Having arrived from Trotternish in Skye, the bailiff was to come and collect the best horse from a poor widow but the undaunted Seumas Òg could not let such an injustice be done and took action as he thought fit necessary to deter any further visits from Skye bailiffs.

Sir Seumas Rua[dh] lived in Sollas
and had a caisteal there the ruins of this
were taken down ab[ou]t 80 y[ea]rs ago for fear
the[y] would injure cattle & horses that
used to shelter there. They were higher than
Carinish temple. When taken down
they nearly kill[e]d several. The pillars would
sway to & fro like trees. An anchor was pl[ace]d
at a distance and a cable on the top
tier of the binneag & then taken down.
This was Caisteal Shollais. C[aisteal] Sheum[ais].
Ruai[dh]. Sir Seumas Rua[dh] was mar[ried]
twice. Had a son by the first wife also
Seumas Og. A Maor mor came fr[om]
Trotarnish to take up the Each Ursann.
He went to Baileshear and took the
best was the E[ach]-ursann and taod gao[i]s[id]
fr[om] a poor wid[ow] there He came to
Sollas heated in a warm day. He
stooped to drink out of Tobar
Pheadair and Seumas og saw
him and rush[e]d out with his sw[or]d
Take up y[ou]r bon[ne]t said he and put
it on y[ou]r he[a]d and be off and never
let me see y[ou]r face here again or
Ill cut y[ou]r head into that well
His muim[e] heavy with child came
betw[een] them and S[eumas] Og said I give him
his life not for his own lifeless car
cass but f[o]r your sake but let me
never see his face again. The Maor
mor ran off as hard as he c[ou]ld an[d]
no maor has ever come fr[om] Trot
airnis since to N[orth] Uist. Tobar
Pheadair was closed there after
that and op[ene]d 30 y[ar]ds lower down.

References:
CW 107, fols. 32v–33v
Campbell, J. F. Popular Tales of the West Highlands, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Birlinn Ltd., 1994), p. 34.
Image:
The MacDonald Boys (Sir Alexander MacDonald 1745–1795, 9th Baronet of Sleat and 1st Baron of Sleat, with Sir James MacDonald, 8th Baronet of Sleat 1741 –1766, father of Seumas Òg) by William Mosman.

Carmichael on Kilts

It really should come as no surprise that an inveterate wearer of the kilt, as Alexander Carmichael most certainly was, expressed an opinion or two about the so-called ancient dress of the Highlanders. A lecture entitled ‘Bards and Bardism of the Highlanders’, which Carmichael had been working on over several sessions while he was resident in Cornwall, contains the following aside about kilts which deviates from the main thrust of the rest of his essay. Some of the purple prose pouring from Carmichael’s pen can be discerned from this extract but mercifully this has been kept to a minimum. Perhaps the exuberance of youth as well as a man still honing his skills and reaching to find his own voice are but some of the legitimate excuses for some of Carmichael’s stylistic excesses:

Some are for maintaining that the

kilt is but a modern dress. It is strange

what ready credence anything dem[ons]tr[a]ted to the High[lands]

is received. However distorted the facts and uniform

ed the story if it makes against the High[lands]

it receives easy credence. And on the

other hand again any thing said as

an antidote to this however respectable

the authority and well confined is

received with distrust.

There are many indisputable facts

that confirm the antiquity of the

kilt. There is an abbey in the Island

of Harris which is believed to be one of the

oldest pieces of architectural remains

in Scotland. The abbey is called Saint

Clemens = “Cill-a-Chliamain.”

Among curious figures on the

tower of this old abbey is a sculp-

tured figure of a Highlander. The

dress is exactly like that worn at the

present day. The kilt comes to the

cap of the knee while the rest of

the dress corresponds with that now worn.

Another impression is that tartan

is not old. This is another erroneous

impression. Tartan is old. In a Gaelic

M.S. of the 10th century the term breacan

literally chequered tartan is expressly

used. It is some what strange that

the English should pronounce the word

plaid more like the original G[aelic] pronounci

ation than the Scotch do. The English

pronounce the word as if written plad

while the Scotch pronounce it according

to the orthography. The original of the

word was plaide now confined

to the blanket. In ancient times when the

Highlanders were more given to hunt-

ing and fishing and battles and

perchance to creach lifting than they

are today their plaids joined their

blankets. Rolled up on these they slept securely

their bed the purple heath[er] and the curtains

the blue azure vaults of heaven.

It is likely that Carmichael is referring to a carved panel inset in the Irish manner (and possibly earlier than the actual church) which includes a kilted figure, that had formerly been mounted on the medieval parapet on Tùr Chliamainn or St Clement’s Tower as can be seen in the above image of Rodel Church, isle of Harris.

References:
CW 107, fol. 5r–6r
Image: Rodel Church, Harris

Caibeal Bhrianain in Barra

Archaeological remains, particularly those of an ecclesiastical nature, held quite a fascination for Alexander Carmichael. On 5 March 1869, Carmichael took time out of his busy schedule to jot down his observations concerning Caibeal Bhrianain at Borve Point near Craigston, in the isle of Barra:

Caibial Bhrianain with taigh eisd

eac[hd] at end. The orig[inal] entrance to the Con
fessional is thro[ugh] the chapel. The walls
of the chapel can orig[nally] be traced but those
of the Conf[essional] are up a few feet. As the door
is in the centre of the wall at east end the
altar must have stood at the west end
surely an unusual thing. The original
door was 37.4 In[ches]. At north side of door a piece
is built up and the door stands now 2½ f[eet].
A Mr Aon[gh]as mac Fir Dhaileile
is the only priest who is known to have
died in Barra and he is said to be
buried in the caibeal beag – 2 & the
taigh eisdeac[hd] at end of chapel
here at Borve.

Elsewhere, in Carmina Gadelica, some traditions were recorded about St Brendan from a smith named Malcolm Maclean (1815–1881), Kentangval, in Barra, who Carmichael later recalled as being ‘a man of quiet wit, natural intelligence, and independence of mind.’ It is a bit too long to give in full but here is the gist of the story which explains that Dòmhnall Dubh Mòr took to working on the Lord’s Day and is said to have ‘had opinions of his own about Saints and Saints’ days, in consequence of which he and the priest of St Brendan had occasional rubs, sometimes bordering on anger. The man was neighbourly and industrious, but some said sceptical and irreligious, barely observing the Sunday, and hardly even the Feast Day.’ On the feast of St Brendan, Dòmhnall decided to go ploughing instead of attending Mass. When he began to work a magic mist descended and transformed his horses and plough. This he tried three times but finally had to give up the ploughing as a bad job. Those who knew Dòmhnall rebuked him ‘for disturbing the rest of the blessed Brendan, and breaking his holy day.’ Such was the ‘curse’ laid upon him that Dòmhnall Dubh’s comely young wife ran to the priest for help. ‘Let Domhull Dubh Mor revel in his agony,’ said the priest, “till he shows by his good deed contrition for his evil ways.” But the good priest came notwithstanding, and, after administering a rebuke to Domhull Dubh, sprinkled on him the water of peace, and bade him go and give alms to the poor and the needy made in the image of God, and sin no more.’

References:
Carmina Gadelica, ii, pp. 235–38
CW 107, fol. 19r
Image:
St Brendan’s Craigston Church, built in 1857

The Shipwreck of the Racoon - II

We’ve been carrying out further research into the wreck of the Racoon – the internet can be a wonderful thing! – and can now fill in some gaps in the account.

The schooner Racoon, under her master Isaac Jones from Caernarfon (not Càrnan, South Uist, as we had first thought!), left Port Dinorwic / Y Felinheli on the Menai Strait loaded with a cargo of slate from the quarries there on Friday 3 October 1873. She must have sailed up the strait, under the Menai Suspension Bridge, and put into Bangor for the weekend before setting sail for Aberdeen on Monday 6th. Three days later disaster struck. It looks as if the schooner was blown off course while sailing to the west of the Outer Hebrides, possibly struck rocks to the south of Eriskay, before foundering that evening on Eilean Thairteamul a couple of miles to the east. The crew took to a small boat, but they were unable to get to shore. They were driven up the Minch and, having endured what must have been an uncomfortable and frightening night, were lucky to make landfall at Borreraig in Loch Dunvegan on Friday 10th.

As the local exciseman, Alexander Carmichael was also the local Receiver of Wreck, responsible for compiling reports about any ships which had come to grief on the shores of the southern Outer Hebrides. It looks as if Carmichael travelled from Uist to Dunvegan in order to interview the crew; it also looks as if he took the opportunity of voyaging a bit further afterwards. If Oban was the ‘Charing Cross of the Highlands’ at this time, then Dunvegan was the Oban of the northern Highlands, with steamers sailing to a variety of mainland and island destinations. One of these ports was Stornoway in Lewis, and we can be fairly certain that Carmichael took the opportunity of travelling to that island – either after interviewing the crew of the Racoon in Dunvegan, or maybe because they themselves had already taken passage there. Whatever the case, we find Carmichael acquiring a wooden plough from Norman Graham in Am Bac, Lewis, on Friday 17 October 1873, then travelling through Tolstadh fo Thuath to Sgìre Nis on the same day. He must have stayed in the district for at least ten days, filling in much of his important field notebook CW MS 115 – seemingly an exercise book ‘borrowed’ from a local school! – on Monday 27 October. Just over a week later, on Tuesday 4 November, Alexander Carmichael is back in Uist.

We might owe to the wreck of the Racoon the fragmentary but fascinating glimpses into contemporary Lewis folklore recorded by Carmichael that autumn in 1873. There might be more information about her fate in the National Archives at Kew: folder MT 10/165 is referenced as ‘Stornoway: Expenses in connection with sale of Wreck ‘Racoon’’.

References:

http://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/262756/details/racoon+thairteamul+sea+of+the+hebrides/

‘Shipping News’, Dundee Courier, 8 October 1873

CW MSS 111 fo.2; 114 fos.89–90; 115; 512 n.f.

Image:

A view from Eriskay out to Eilean Thairteamul, last resting place of the Racoon (photographer Calum McRoberts, www.geograph.org.uk)

The Shipwreck of the Racoon

A random description of a shipwreck of the Racoon, probably dating to around 1875 when the anecdote was recorded, must be counted as one of Alexander Carmichael's most bizarre notes. Immediately following a prophecy attributed to Coinneach Odhar Fiosaiche, or the Brahan Seer as he is popularly known, which had been written down in rather a neat hand, the following description occurs but it may be assumed, given the appalling hand in which it was written, that it was taken down in haste and it may have even been the first hand recollections of one of the survivors of the wreck. More likely, perhaps, it was taken down from someone from Skye who had actually witnessed the events spoken about but unfortunately Carmichael gives no clear indication of this. The description takes up one full page and then stops abruptly leaving quite a cliffhanger. There is no indication why Carmichael stopped but perhaps he may have been interrupted or he had to attend to some business or another.

Racoon Isaac Jones, fr[om] Carnan
for Aberdeen Slates On Thursday
on the Point of Erisga ab[ou]t. 9 pm
took to small boat couldn’t r[e]ach shore
shiplength drift[ed] on to Sky[e] aft[er] a
landing at Dunveg[an] N[orth] 35 mil[e]s to
leeward from of[f] Bororey inside
Dun[vegan] N[orth]. People very kind to them gave
them old sho[e]s & clothing & got on to
Dun[vegan?] on Sat[urday] mor[nin]g. Course had
their bearings cont[inued] drift[ing] wreck[?] big
W[est] S[outh] W[esterly]. double reef canvas
from orders & put up helm hard
when in[?] aft[er] she struck. Part to own[ers]
in Aberdeen & part Carnan.
Left Bangor last Mon[day] week
Land[ed] at Dun[vegan] N[orth] ab[ou]t 3 pm no
food nor wa[ter] nor cloth[in]g. Drenched
to the skin. 6 men on board 2 in bed
& took to small boat 15 keel about…

Despite undertaking some initial research the piratical sounding Isaac Jones proves to have been rather elusive. We would, of course, be delighted to hear from anyone who knows more about this intriguing story.

Reference:
CW 105, fol. 55v

Image:
Shipwreck

From MacGilleMhoire to Morrison

Learned journals such as The Celtic Magazine (1876–88), edited during these years by Alexander MacKenzie, attracted correspondence not only from throughout Scotland but also from the descendants of those who had immigrated to various parts of the world. Typical topics for many were those related to genealogy and the derivation of surnames. Given that Alexander Carmichael had at times a hectic work load as well as a fairly busy home-life, it is amazing that he found enough time to write answers to such questions below, but also that he managed to gather in such a vast amount of oral material as well as keeping up correspondence with many friends and colleagues.

GILMORE.―We have submitted the Query by Mr William Fraser, Elgin, Illinois, U.S.A., about this name to Mr Alexander A. Carmichael, North Uist, one of our best living authorities on such subjects, who kindly sent us the following answer: “I am no genealogist, but I have no doubt of the name Gilmore being Highland. As you are probably aware, a large proportion of our Highland names are of Christian or ecclesiastical origin. This, I doubt not, is one of them. The name seems variously spelled Gilmore, Gilmoire, Gilmour, and Gilmorie. We have the baptismal name of Gilmoire, properly Gillemoire, the servant of the Virgin. This again becomes the surname MacGilmhoire, and, more correctly, MacGillemhoire, ‘the Son of the Servant of the Virgin’ (Mary). This name has: now become Morrison, the son of Moire―literally ‘Son of the Virgin.’ I take it that Gilmore, Gilmour, and all the other abbreviations of the name are from Gille-Moire, ‘the Servant of the Virgin Mary,’ equivalent to the English name St Mary. Gillean, as you are aware, is an abbreviation of Gille-Sheathain, ‘the Servant of John,’ and the same as the English St John, a name dear to every Northern naturalist. MacGillean, as abbreviated from Gille-Sheathain, has now become Maclean.”

The most famous Morrisons in the Highlands and Islands are probably those belonging to the Isle of Lewis. Carmichael wrote the following about them: ‘In some districts the chiefs appointed judges to act for them. These were called ‘breitheamh,’ Anglicised ‘brehon.’ The office was as a rule hereditary. The best known of these ‘brehons’ were the Morrisons of the Western Isles, generally called ‘Na breithimh Leodhasach,’ the Lewis brehons, who are still spoken of with admiration…’ The surname Morrison in Gaelic is usually given now as Moireasdan which ultimately derives from MacGilleMhoire (sometimes MacGilleMhuire) but from the Reformation onwards the more secular-sounding Morrison was adopted by some in order to avoid the taint of Roman Catholicism.

References:

Carmichael, Alexander A., ‘The Name Gilmore’, The Celtic Magazine, vol. VII, no. LXXVI (1882), p. 196

Carmina Gadelica, ii, p. 253

Image:

The Blessed Virgin Mary