Fògradh, Fàisneachd, Filidheachd

by Duncan B. Blair

  Another man put a pail of water on the fire to extinguish it and then went to help the two who were attempting to pull the widow outside. She held in death-grip every stone and piece of wood that she could reach; but the bailiffs were too numerous and too brutal for her. They hit her on the fingers with which she was grasping things until she let go, and then they threw her out. It was a shameful sight to see three beastly men like horses wrestling with one poor, woman 60-year-old. Then they put out every item in the house, throwing them into the gutter. They broke the planks, took down the pot-hanger, destroyed the hen-roost, and drove the hens themselves out through the chimney-vent. Then they knocked down the walls of the house, and the roof and rafters fell inside. The poor widow had nowhere to shelter her head, although many of her ancestors had died fighting for the cause of their clan chief.

  (15 Dàmhair 1892)

  Cnòideart

  Reiceadh oighreachd Ghlinne-Garraidh, agus air a’ bhliadhna 1853 cha robh troigh de ’n oighreachd air a fàgail aig Mac Mhic Alasdair ach Cnòideart; agus a nis reiceadh Cnòideart fèin agus buinidh i do Ghall saoibhir d’ an ainm “Baird”.

  Anns a’ bhliadhna 1853 bha oighre Mhic Mhic Alasdair ’na ògan fo aois an lagha agus bha a mhàthair ’na Bana-chileadair air an oighreachd ann an Cnòideart. Ach ma bhà, cha robh mòran gliocais no iochd, no tròcair innte ris an tuath bhochd; oir rùnaich i fhèin agus an Gille-gnothaich (Factor) aice a h-uile croitear a chur air falbh à Cnòideart gu rùm a dhèanamh do na caoirich mhòra. Air an Earrach sin fhuair gach aon diubh bàirlinn gus an àitean còmhnaidh fhàgail agus dh’innseadh dhaibh cuideachd gun d’aontaich Sir Iain MacNèill ri an giùlan air fairge gu Astràilia. Cha d’fheòraicheadh dhaibh an robh iad toileach falbh, no am b’fheàrr leotha dol gu Astràilia na gu Aimeireaga, far an robh an càirdean agus an luchd-dùthcha. Cha robh suim diubh nas mò na bha dha na daoinibh dubha an Afraga a bha air an reic nan tràillibh anns na Stàtachaibh mu Dheas an Aimeireaga. Ach b’fheudar dhaibh falbh a dheòin no dh’aindeoin, agus mu dheireadh fhuaras a mach nach robh e goireasach an cur gu Astràilia; mar sin dh’imireadh iad air falbh gu Canada gun dòigh air fuireach aca. Agus thàinig Baintighearna Mhic Mhic Alasdair cosmhail ri ban-deamhan a nuas à Dùn Eideann, i fhèin ’s a Gille-gnothaich, gus a dhèanamh cinnteach gum biodh an sluagh air am fògradh.

  Chluinnteadh gaoir nam ban agus caoineadh na cloinne bige fad air astar, nuair a bha iad air an spìonadh a mach às na taighibh, agus air an slaodadh leis na deamhain mhaor aig Nic Mhic Alasdair gus an cur air bòrd luinge aig an Eilean Sgitheanach, a bha ri seòladh gu Ceann Tuath Aimeireaga. Bha na taighean uile air an leagail ri talamh agus air an cur ri theine; seadh taighean na muinntir a dh’fhuirich cho math ri taighean na muinntir a dh’fhalbh, oir chan fhaodadh duine fuireach an Cnòideart gu eagal a chur air na caoirich. Cha robh tròcair sam bith air a nochdadh dhaibhsan a dhiùlt falbh gu Aimeireaga. Chuireadh a mach air an doras a h-uile nì a bhuineadh dhaibh – leapaichean, cathraichean, bùird, poitean, soithichean fiodha no creadha, plaideachan, aodaichean, agus gach nì eile. Chìteadh na nithean sin a’ ruith sìos am bruthach leis na cnuic nuair a thilgeadh a mach iad.

  Bha bantrach bhochd an sin d’am b’ainm Ealasaid Nic Gill Iosa, mu thrì fichead bliadhna dh’aois. Fhuair a’ bhean bhochd so bàirlinn gu falbh an toiseach gu Astràilia agus a rìs gu Canada, ach dhiùlt i falbh. Fhuair nighean leatha am bàs, caileag òg a bha fuireach còmhla rithe, agus dh’fhàgadh a’ bhantrach a nise na h-aonar. Thàinig am “Factor” agus na maoir a dh’ionnsaidh taigh na bantraich, a bha na suidhe a staigh. Dh’òrdaich iad di dol a mach agus gach nì a bhuineadh dhi a thoirt leatha oir bha iad a’ dol a leagail an taighe. Dh’fheòraich i dhiubh càit’ an rachadh i, ach cha d’fhuair i freagairt sam bith. Dhiùlt i dol a mach, agus an sin rug dithis dhaoine oirre gus a slaodadh a mach a dh’aindeoin, ach shuidh i sìos aig taobh lic-an-teintein agus cha ghluaiseadh i òirleach.

  Chuir fear eile cuinneag uisge air an teine gus a bhàthadh agus an sin thàinig e a chuideachadh na dithis fhear a bha an sàs ’s a’ bhantraich gu a slaodadh a mach. Rinn ise grèim bàis air gach clach us maide air an ruigeadh i; ach bha na maoir tuilleadh us lìonmhor agus tuilleadh us brùideil air a son. Bhuail iad i air na meòir leis an robh i a’ greimeachadh, gus an do leig i às a grèim, agus an sin thilg iad a mach i, agus cha b’iongnadh, oir bu mhaslach an sealladh a bhi faicinn triùir dhaoine brùideil mar eachaibh a’ gleachd ri aon bhoireannach bochd trì fichead bliadhna dh’aois. Chuir iad a mach an sin gach nì a bha staigh, ’gan tilgeil anns a’ ghuiteir. Bhris iad na clàraidhean, leag iad an t-slabhraidh, mhill iad faradh nan cearc, agus dh’fhuadaich iad na cearcan fhèin a mach air an luidheir. Leag iad an sin ballachan an taighe agus thuit am mullach agus na cabair a staigh. Cha robh àit’ aig a’ bhantraich bhochd anns an cuireadh i a ceann fo dhìon, ged a fhuair mòran de a sinnsir am bàs a’ cogadh ann an adhbhar an Cinn-Cinnidh.

  (22 October 1892)

  Isle of Rum

  At the beginning of this century the Isle of Rum, one of the “small isles,” was full of people. There was a population of about 400 people on the island, but in the year 1826 every occupant was forced to leave and board a ship bound for America. Some went to the Strait of Canso and River Inhabitants in Cape Breton where their descendants are to be found to this day.

  Only one family of the old native people stayed in the Isle of Rum. The rest departed, big and small, old and young, weak and strong, male and female, in one large emigration to a land of strangers on the other side of the ocean. There the old people found graves among the trees, and the young people encountered hardship, danger and hard labour before they cut down the forests, cleared the land, and built steadings that were suitable, well-situated and convenient dwelling houses. In 1828 the people were cleared from the Isle of Muck, another of the small isles, close to the islands of Rum and Eigg. Some descendants of the people of the Isle of Muck are at Lake Ainslie, north of Whycocomagh in Cape Breton.

  It was to provide living space for sheep that the people were expelled from Rum. In 1828 there was nobody in Rum but a big Lowland sheep farmer and a few shepherds to take care of the flock. Before long it became apparent that it was not of benefit or profit to the big Lowland sheep farmer and that the island would be a wide wilderness, without a soul living there, for he couldn’t find workers at sheep-shearing time, or when it was time to smear the sheep with tar and butter or whale oil. Therefore he took ten or twelve cottars from the Isle of Skye and gave them a housing site and grazing for a cow or two on a moor beside Loch Scresort, but the heart of the land, where people lived from past ages, was an uninhabited wasteland. The remains of the ridges and furrows where they ploughed could be seen, but they are becoming covered with growth and close to being buried in heather.

  The wheel of Providence went round. The big Lowland sheep farmer suffered loss, went bankrupt, and had to leave the island. The proprietor was no more fortunate than the farmer. He had to sell the island to a rich Englishman who bought the place in order to turn it into a deer-forest, for hunting and stalking for his own pleasure. None of those who sent the people away is to be found on the island now, and information about their descendants has been lost. The descendants of the old inhabitants who chased the deer 500 years ago in the Isle of Rum are now on the other side of the ocean. Some are well-off and well-respected there, but no one knows where the descendants of the sheep farmer and the old proprietor are, if indeed there are any of them alive on the face of the earth.

  (Detail) James Kirkwood. 1804. By permission. National Library of Scotland [NLS shelfmark: EMS.s.74].

  (22 Dàmhair 1892)

  Eilean Rùim

  Bho thoiseach a’ chiadbhliadhain so bha Eilean Rùim, fear de na h-eileanan caola, làn sluaigh. Bha mu thimcheall ceithir chiad pearsa air an eilean, ach air a’ bhliadhna 1826 chuireadh air falbh a h-uile aitreabhach a bha air an eilean, agus b’èiginn daibh dol air luing gu Aimeireaga, cuid dhiubh gu Caolas Chanso agus Abhainn
nan Aitreabhach an Ceap Breatann far am bheil an sliochd ri fhaotainn gus an latha an diugh.

  Cha d’fhuirich ann an Eilean Rùim ach aon teaghlach de na seann nàistinnich. Dh’fhalbh a’ chuid eile dhiubh, eadar mhòr us bheag, sean us òg, lag us làidir, fireann us boireann, ann an aon imrich mhòir gu tìr choigrich taobh thall a’ chuain, far an d’fhuair an seann sluagh uaighean am measg nan craobh, agus an do choinnich an òigridh ri cruadal, cunnart agus cruaidh shaothair, mun do gheàrr iad sìos a’ choillteach, mun do rèitich iad am fearann, agus mun do thog iad treabhair iomchaidh, ghoireasach, freagarrach gu còmhnaidh a ghabhail annta. Air a’ bhliadhna 1828 chuireadh air falbh an sluagh à Eilean nam Muc, fear eile de na h-eileanan caola, làimh ri Eilean Rùim agus Eige. Tha cuid de shliochd muinntir Eilean nam Muc aig Loch Ainslie gu tuath air Uaimh Chogomath, ann an Ceap Breatann.

  B’ann airson àite fuirich a dhèanamh do na caoirich mhòra a chuireadh an sluagh air falbh à Rùm. Air a’ bhliadhna 1828 cha robh duine ann an Rùm ach aon chiobair mòr Gallda, agus beagan bhuachaillean gu aire a thabhairt air a chuid chaorach, ach an ceann beagan ùine fhuaras a mach nach robh e feumail, no a chum buannachd do’n chìobair mhòr Ghallda, gum biodh an t-eilean ’na dhìthreabh farsainn gun duine a’ còmhnaidh ann, oir chan fhaigheadh e luchd-oibre no luchd-lomairt an àm a bhi rùsgadh nan caorach, agus mar an ciadna an àm a bhi ’gan smeuradh le teàrr us ìm, no ola na muice-mara. Uime sin thug e deich no dusan coiteir às an Eilean Sgitheanach agus thug e dhaibh làrach taighe agus feurach mairt no dhà, air mòintich, no blàr mòine, ri taobh Loch Sgriseard, ach bha cridhe na dùthcha, far am b’àbhaist d’an t-sluagh a bhi bho shean, na fhàsach gun duine a’ còmhnaidh ann. Gidheadh chìteadh lorg nan iomairean agus nan claisean far an robh iad a’ treabhadh ach a tha nise fàs suas, agus an impis a bhi air an còmhdachadh le fraoch.

  Ach thionndaidh cuibhle an Fhreasdail. Bhris an cìobair mòr Gallda oir thàinig calldach air, agus b’èiginn da an t-eilean fhàgail; agus cha robh an t-uachdaran na b’fhortanaiche na an tuathanach; oir thàinig esan gu bochdainn cuideachd, agus b’fheudar dha an t-eilean a chreic ri Sasannach beartach, a cheannaich an t-àite gus a thionndadh gu Frìth Fhiadh, airson seilg agus fiadhachd gu àilgheas fhèin. Chan eil fear de na daoinibh a chuir an sluagh air falbh an diugh ri fhaotainn air an eilean; chailleadh mar an ciadna iomradh air an sliochd. Tha an seann luchd-àiteachaidh, sliochd nan daoine a b’àbhaist a bhi ruith nam fiadh, bho chionn còig ciad bliadhna an Eilean Rùim, an diugh air taobh thall a’ chuain, agus cuid dhiubh gu math air an cothrom agus ann am mòr mheas agus urram; ach chan ’eil fhios càit’ am bheil sliochd a’ chiobair agus an t-seann uachdarain, ma tha gin idir dhiubh beò air aghaidh na talmhainn.

  (29 October 1892)

  South Uist and Barra

  In 1851 abhorrent work was done in South Uist and the Isle of Barra according to what Alexander MacKenzie relates in the book that he published in Inverness about the depopulation of the Highlands.

  The servants of Colonel Gordon, the landlord who had bought these islands, were deceiving the people with lies, telling them that Sir John MacNeil was going across to Canada in order to be there ahead of them, to prepare and make available every convenience that would be useful to them. However, many of the people understood the chicanery and refused to go. They would not go aboard a ship. Then the vicious work began when the ships came in to Lochboisdale to transport the people to America. A proclamation went out to gather the people to Lochboisdale where the vessels were anchored, and an order was given that a fine of two English pounds, or ten dollars, would be imposed on each person who would not assemble at the location.

  When the people gathered at Lochboisdale they were ordered to go aboard, and those who refused were caught by bailiffs and put aboard against their will. One strong man called Angus Johnston was resisting the bailiffs with all his might, and he had to be put in handcuffs before they could restrain him. A priest from Uist intervened and the handcuffs were removed. He was then carried aboard by the four bailiffs who were manhandling him.

  A young girl was caught but she escaped during the night. Next morning people were wakened by the screeching and shrieking of the girl when she was found in a house nearby. The poor lass was held between two bailiffs, pulling her along like two demons, with her hair hanging loose on her shoulders and her face swollen from weeping. The landlord’s ground officer was with the other two, driving the girl after them. Two other girls, daughters of a man called John MacDougall, also escaped. He was put aboard the ship but his two daughters were left roaming the hills. One was 14 years of age and the other 12.

  When these poor crea-tures reached Québec they didn’t have one red cent to take them farther on their journey, though they had been told that the government was going to pay for them until they reached their destination in the upper part of Ontario. Kind and charitable people in Québec had to extend their hands and collect some money to help them on their way to the end of their journey. Many of these immigrants did not have a word of English. The only language they could understand was Gaelic and it was very difficult for them to continue their journey since they could not understand the language of the country. During the following winter they suffered much from cold and hunger.

  About two thousand people were ousted like this by Colonel Gordon. If this had been done in Turkey or Russia the whole of Christendom would have been stricken with horror and dismay, but when done to poor Gaels by hard-hearted merciless landlords, there isn’t a word about it.

  (Detail) James Kirkwood. 1804. By permission. National Library of Scotland [NLS shelfmark: EMS.s.74].

  (29 Dàmhair 1892)

  Uibhist a Deas agus Barraidh

  Air a’ bhliadhna 1851 bha obair dhèistinneach air a dèanamh an Uibhist a Deas agus an Eilean Bharraidh a rèir mar a tha Alasdair MacCoinnich ag innseadh anns an leabhar a chuir e mach an Inbhir-Nis mu thimcheall Dì-làrachadh na Gàidhealtachd.

  Bha seirbhisich Chòirneil Gòrdan, an t-uachdaran a cheannaich na h-eileanan so, a’ mealladh an t-sluaigh, le breugaibh, ag ràdh riutha gu robh Sir Iain MacNèill a’ dol a null do Chanada gu bhi rompa an sin, a chum gach goireas a bhiodh feumail dhaibh ullachadh air an son agus fhaicinn air a bhuileachadh orra. Ach thuig mòran de’n t-sluagh an t-innleachd-meallaidh agus dhiùlt iad falbh, agus cha rachadh neach dhiubh air bòrd luinge. An sin thòisich obair an lèirsgrios an uair a thàinig na longan a staigh do Loch Baghasdail gus an sluagh a ghiùlan gu Aimeireaga. Chaidh gairm a mach an sluagh a chruinneachadh gu Loch Baghasdail far an robh an luingeas air acair, agus chuireadh òrdugh a mach gum biodh ùbhladh dà phunnd Sasannach, no deich dolair, air gach fear nach tionaileadh a dh’ionnsaidh an àite.

  Nuair a chruinnich an sluagh gu Loch Baghasdail, dh’àithneadh dhaibh dol air bòrd, agus iadsan a dhiùlt chaidh an glacadh le maoir agus an cur air bòrd a dh’aindeoin. Bha fear làidir d’am b’ainm Aonghas Mac Iain a’ cur an aghaidh nam maor le uile neart, agus b’èiginn glas-làmh a chur air mu’m b’urrainn iad a cheannsachadh. Ach thàinig sagart Uibhist agus le eadraiginn-san thugadh dheth a’ ghlas-làmh agus ghiùlaineadh a staigh air bòrd e eadar ceithir maoir a bha m’a thimcheall.

  Chaidh nighean òg a ghlacadh, ach theich i air feadh na h-oidhche, agus air madainn an ath latha dhùisgeadh an sluagh le sgriachail agus sgread na h-ighinn a chaidh a ghlacadh ann an taigh a bha dlùth air làimh. Bha a’ chaileag bhochd an sàs eadar dithis mhaor, cosmhail ri dà dheamhan ’ga slaodadh leotha, a falt sìos m’ a cluasaibh sgaoilte, agus a h-aodann air at agus air bòchdadh le caoineadh. Bha maor-fuinn an uachdarain còmhla ris an dithis eile ag iomain na caileig às an dèidh. Theich mar an ciadna dithis chaileag eile le fear d’ am b’ainm Iain Dùghallach. Chaidh e fhèin a chur air bòrd luinge ach dh’fhàgadh a dhithis nighean às a dhèidh air feadh nam beann. Bha tè dhiubh 14 bliadhna agus an tè eile 12 bliadhna dh’aois.

  An uair a ràinig na creutairean bochd so Quebec cha robh sgillinn ruadh aca bheireadh na b’fhaide iad
air an turas, ged a dh’innseadh gu robh an luchd-riaghlaidh a’ dol a chosg orra gus an ruigeadh iad bràighe Ontario far an robh iad a’ dol. B’èiginn do shluagh caranta caoimhneil ann an Quebec an làmhan a shìneadh agus beagan airgid a chruinneachadh gus an cuideachadh air an aghaidh gu ceann an turais. Bha mòran de ’n luchd-imrich so aig nach robh facal Beurla. Cha tuigeadh iad cànan sam bith ach Gàidhlig agus mar sin bha e glè dhuilich dhaibh siubhal air an turas a chionn nach tuigeadh iad cainnt na dùthcha. Agus rè a’ gheamhraidh a lean dh’fhuiling iad mòran sàrachaidh le fuachd agus acras.

  Chaidh mu thuaiream dà mhìle sluaigh a chur air falbh mar so le Còirneal Gòrdan, agus nam b’ann san Tuirc no ann an Ruisia a bhiodh an obair so air a dèanamh bhitheadh air luchd-àitich na crìosdachd gairisinn agus uamhas, ach nuair a rinneadh e air Gàidheil bhochda le uachdaran cruaidh-chridheach gun iochda, chan eil guth mu dheidhinn.

  (5 November 1892)

  North Uist

  In the year 1849 Lord MacDonald cleared 600 or 700 people from Sollas, a district in North Uist. The people pleaded for a short delay until they could sell their cattle and other possessions without suffering a loss, when the summer sales came round. But they didn’t get a hearing or a response to their request. They were moved out of their homes. Everything they had was confiscated, between cattle, crops and peats, and their furniture was thrown outside. There was a certain man there who was a weaver and who had a wife and nine children. This man’s furniture was thrown out and the tweed was torn out of the loom. His wife ran to the door with her baby in her arms, shouting at the top of her voice: “My children have been murdered.” Then the bailiffs knocked the house down to the ground.