Clan Donald Society; Arisaig, Antigonish County, Saturday, June 27, 2009
My sincere thanks to your society for inviting me to join you this evening and also to Ronnie for his kind introduction.
I am honoured to be here tonight in Arisaig—an area which was so truly part of the Gaelic heartland of Nova Scotia. Any mention of this area immediately brings to mind Fr. Ronald MacGillivray, the seanachaidh who made such a tremendous contribution to the history of the Gael and who was universally known as Sagart Arasaig.
And it was also here in Arisaig that one of the most noble and, to my mind, heroic events in the history of the Gaels of Nova Scotia took place. When the revered pastor, Mgr. Alasdair Mòr MacDonald died suddenly in Halifax in April 1816, he was buried in that city, but his parishioners wanted him to rest in their own soil. As ships could not pass through the ice packed Strait of Canso, three stalwart men were chosen to bring home the exhumed remains by horse and sled, but more often on their shoulders, through the snow covered terrain. Finally, Rev. MacDonald—“the guide, philosopher and friend to all immigrants” —was accorded the funeral of a chieftain and laid to rest among the Gaels of Arisaig. A truly remarkable story of loyalty and courage.
In the fall of that same year, 1816, young Allan MacDonald, along with his parents and siblings, arrived in Pictou from Lochaber, Scotland. He was 22 years old, young and optimistic, and already an established poet. On the last day of October, the family hired a shallop to convey them across the Northumberland Strait to CapeBreton; unfortunately, they were swamped by a violent snowstorm off the coast of Arisaig and all may well have perished, were it not for their rescue by local inhabitants. Many years later, Allan’s grand-daughter Mary described this “perilous adventure” in an essay where she said that all on board made it safely to shore and were treated most kindly by the people of Arisaig who revived them, housed them and treated them to a feast of “herring, potatoes and tea.”
What a wonderful welcome to Nova Scotia!
Allan’s family eventually settled at the South West Ridge in Mabou and it was this location which caused them to be known as the Ridge MacDonalds to this very day, no matter where they reside.
In the largely oral culture of former Gaels, a poet served not only as a musician but also as journalist, historian and genealogist for his clan. As a result, the songs of our pioneer poets may often be regarded as the one true voice of the immigrants which remains. Thus, Allan the Ridge’s description of his voyage across the Atlantic Ocean is essentially a first-hand account where we feel the pitching and tossing of the vessel, we hear the creaking and groaning of its planks and halyards and we see the massive and menacing billows, home to noisy, spouting whales.
Mi an toiseach na luinge
S neo-shocrach mo shuidhe
S mi coimhead nan sruth tha tighinn oirnn.
Chi mi thallad fo’m shùilean
A’ mhuc-mhara’s i brùchdail
Sruithean geala gan spùtadh bho sròin.
Mi air barr nan tonn fiadhaich
Falbh le luing air a fiaradh
S caithream gaoithe fo ’n iar ’s i na sròin.
I ri acain ’s ri dìosgail
Sreap a-suas ris gach fiadh-bheann
B’ fhearr nach fhaca mi riamh i fo sheòl.
When Allan describes Nova Scotia as a place where one might acquire land and freedom and a measure of luxury, we must believe him, despite contradictory accounts by some of his contemporaries. We are all familiar with the Bard MacLean’s great dirge, theGloomyForestbut I am convinced that the poet suffered as much from loneliness and isolation as from pioneer hardships. In Mabou, however, the Ridge MacDonalds were surrounded by other Gaels, mostly former neighbours and clan members: to all intents and purposes, CapeBreton afforded them a new Glen Roy where their age old customs, language and music could thrive.
Allan spent about 30 years in Mabou before moving to Upper South River in 1848. This was the era of bad harvests and world wide famine, we know that his farm on the Ridge was not a fertile one and he may well have anticipated a better measure of prosperity among the Gaels of Antigonish County.
Judging by the tremendous amount of history, lore and music which Allan bequeathed to his family, he must have seriously assumed the role of clan poet, even though that function could legitimately be regarded as obsolete by his day. He continued to praise many of the Clan Donald and their allies and to lament some of them on their deaths. One particularly poignant elegy is that to Sandy Ban, a 19 year old kinsman who drowned off the coast of Merigomish, shortly after arriving from Scotland in 1832. All on board the vessel perished, but Sandy’s body was never recovered, thus adding to the grief of his family and friends.
I have a sad and bitter tale to relate which preoccupies my mind just now; that tale of loss which was reported, the drowning of Alexander. That came as a blow to his brother Donald which wounded and grieved him—that his fine, comely body might remain buried in the sands.
You can hear a couple of verses of this lament as sung by Johnnie Williams, on the St. FX Gaelstream site.
Allan, like many fellow poets, was a drinking man—one who regarded the sharing of a glass or two among friends as an honourable part of his heritage, never to be neglected. In the early years, there is a light-hearted and irrepressible joie-de vivre in his songs on this topic.
Tha mi ’n diugh gu tinn
Bha mi raoir ag òl …Today I am so hungover, for last night I was drinking—is among his best known.
Bha mi ’n raoir air banais
Bha mi ’g ol sa caithris;
Gun dannsainn ri m’ fhaileas
Cho mear ris na h-eoin. …Last night at a wedding, carousing till late; I could dance to my shadow as merrily as the birds!
The Temperance Movement originated in Nova Scotia in the early years of the 19 century, a development which was universally despised by most Gaels and especially by their poets. In 1841, Bishop Fraser of Antigonish initiated the Total Abstinence Pledge, ironically on New Year’s day! In Dìteadh Mhic an Tòisich, the bard MacLean himself paints a vivid picture of the reluctant recruit, endorsing the pledge with faltering hand:
Is iomadh aon bha chridhe fann
Bh’ air chrith gu luath ’s gach ball;
Cur a làimhe ris a’ pheann
‘Se dol sa bhann bha cunnartach ….Many a faint hearted one trembled in every limb as he took up the pen to sign the awful pledge!
The success of Bishop Fraser’s campaign was very evident to Allan the Ridge on Christmas night in 1854, for there was not a drop of liquor to be had in the entire area. He forthwith composed a superlative serenade to drink, denying any affiliation with the Luther or with Pope, and choosing the creed of Bacchus instead.
Bu mhath gu cluich a’ chiùil e
Bu shiùbhlach air danns e,
Sheinneadh e na fuinn
Chumadh cuimhn’air na bàrdaibh;
Bu mhath e anns a h-uile rud
S gum b’urramach s’gach àm e
Ach daoine coimheach gnùtha
Cha dùraig iad ann e.
According to the bard, drink was “grand for playing music and for nimble footed dancing, for singing such airs as would keep the poets in mind; it was in fact good for all occasions, even though some surly misanthropes could not abide it.”
It was as a mature poet that Allan composed his great praise of Sliochd an Taighe, his own MacDonalds of Bohuntin. This is a wild, often savage and uncompromising celebration of a clan which was preminent during the Golden Age of Scotland’s history. When it first appeared in the Casket of June 15, 1922—long after the poet’s death—the gentle Gaelic editor, Dr. Nicholson, felt obliged to issue an apology for its bloodthirsty nature, assuring readers that the bard was merely following the style of earlier poets who lived in an age when combat and killing were all in a day’s work for the Gael!
I would like to end on a note from this remarkable poem, due to the fact that I know you are tonight honouring a contemporary MacDonald athlete and hockey player. It seems that Queen Victoria, along with Albert and the Duke of Wellington, attended a Scottish Fete in London in 1848. Various Highland athletic events were held and the brothers Colin and Archibald MacDonald of Cranachan in Lochaber were among the competitors. At the end of the day, the Queen presented Colin MacDonald with the Gold Star of the Supreme Champion, having won most prizes in both running and heavy events.
Thousands of miles away in Upper South River, the Ridge bard made sure that this further MacDonald triumph would not be forgotten as he sang:
“When British champions were chosen to compete before the Queen in the presence of the people of London, to test the strong men’s mettle; to see who was the swiftest or whose arm was the strongest—it was the men of Glen Roy who were victorious and won each prize.”
If Allan the Ridge were here this evening, I think he would applaud you for supporting and promoting so many of the old Highland customs—and no doubt he would do this eloquently in song!
Tapa leibh.