A previous blog offered a summary of Duncan
MacDonald’s life story. It may be divided into a
few sections of varying lengths. Here is offered the fifth part (NFC 1180, pp.
225–30) where MacDonald related to Calum Maclean about his marriage and
thereafter. The opportunity has been taken to modernise the Gaelic orthography
and also to offer a translation.
An Dèidh Pòsaidh
Nuair a phòs mi ann an 1913 thug mi a’ bhean dhachaigh a thaigh m’ athar a chionn bha
mo mhàthair air fàs lapach. Bha i seachad air trì fichead bliadhna agus bha i
fuathasach toilichte boireannach òg, làidir a’ tighinn còmhla rithe, a chionn
bha i eòlach riamh air an tè a bh’ ann on a rugadh i. Bha i a’ còrdadh rithe
glè mhath. Agus a-nist chan eil teagamh sam bith nach robh dùil agam-sa àite
fhaighinn dhomh-fhìn cho luath is a ghabhadh dèanamh, ach bhrist an cogadh
a-mach, a’ Chiad Chogadh Mòr, an ath-bhliadhna air mise a phòsadh. Agus bha mo
dhà bhràthair a bha a-staigh còmhla rium – cha robh còmhla rium ach fear
dhiubh, Niall agus bha am fear eile Dòmhnall Iain, bha e air pòsadh agus ’s e
saor a bh’ ann agus bha e ann an taigheadas dha-fhèin ann an t-Hogha Beag agus
e na shaor as an sgìreachd a bh’ ann a shin, agus dh’fhalbh an dithis aca. Agus
bha mise an uair sin air m’ fhàgail a-staigh leam fhìn. Agus bha bràthair eile
dhomh air falbh. ’S e a b’ òige air fad. Bha e fo fhichead bliadhna an uair sin
agus bha e air falbh na attendant ann
an Larbert Asylum. Agus ann an 1915 chaidh Dòmhnall Iain, mo bhràthair, a
mharbhabh aig Loos ann an September,
25th. Agus ghabh mo bhràthair a b’ òige a bha na attendant ann an Larbert
Asylum, ghabh e cho dona a’ chùis agus gun a liostaig e-fhèin airson dioghaltas
a dhèanamh. Agus nuair a chaidh e ron trèineadh chaidh a chàradh a-null dhan
Fhraing agus bha e san Fhraing gus a robh an Armistice air a signigeadh.
Agus fhuair mi-fhìn cruit eile an uair sin mun tàinig an cogadh gu crìch agus bha dùil ’m a dhol innte cuideachd nuair a thigeadh an cogadh gu crich agus a thigeadh mo bhràthair dhaghaidh. Ach a-nist cha robh a’ chruit a bh’ ann an sin ro fhada o chruit m’ athar agus ’s ann a chunnaic iad iomchaidh dhomh fuireach far an robh mi gun chabhag na caonnag a bhith orm a’ falbh aiste. Agus ’s ann mar seo a bha. Dh’ fhan mi far an robh mi cuideachd.
Agus bha an teaghlach a’ tighinn air aghaidh agus nuair a bha a’ chiad mhac a bh’ agam a-mach às an sgoil choisinn e bursary agus chaidh a chur an uair sin gu secondary school agus chaidh e às an sin gu ruige Fort William agus gu mì-fhortanach fhuair e an-shocair ann a shin às an àite-loidsidh às an robh e nach do dhealaich riamh ris gus an tug i am bàs dha aig aois fichead bliadhna, ann an 1934 air an 3rd August. Dh’ eug e ann an Invergarry agus thug mi fhìn dhachaigh e. Agus a-nist dh’ eug m’ athair ann an ciad mhios ’n fhoghar ann an 1919 agus cha robh bochdainne na galair air na sìon ach dìreach an latha a bh’ ann an seo ach nuair a bha e an dèis a bhreaiceast a ghabhail bhuail an stroke e dìreach aig taobh an teine agus e a’ lasadh na pìobadh agus thog sinn sìos dhan leabaidh e, mi fhìn agus a’ bhean. Agus ’s ann air Didomhnaich a bh’ ann agus bha an còrr a mhuinntir an taighe às an eaglais agus bha dùil againn a-nist gun tigeadh a’ bhruidhinn ’uige air ais, ach cha tàinig agus bha e Didomhnaich fad an latha gun chainnt agus Diluain agus gu dà uair feasgar Dimàirt ’s ann a dh’ eug e. Agus bha e ceithir fichead bliadhna agus a còig gu leth an uair sin agus cha do dh’ airich e criod de bhochdainne riamh ach na rheumatics. Agus bha e na chlachair agus bha e na dhuine ainmeil làidir. Cha robh strì aige uair sam bith – tha mi fhìn ga chluinntinn sin, dà chiad punnd a chur air an scaile nuair a bhiodh iad a’ tomhas cheilpeadh. Agus b’ aithnte dhomh ultach eile a bhiodh e fhèin agus gillean eile a’ togail, clach mhòr agus bha i cho grinn agus cho sleamhainn. Cha robh greim oirre thall na a-bhos. Agus chunna mi ri mo linn fhìn aon ghille sgairteil agus thogadh e i ach ’s ann air a h-oir a bha e ga togail suas. Ach mar a bha m’ athair ga togail ’s ann far a’ chomhnard a bha i agus cha robh e a’ faighinn foipe ach a bhasan, agus am fear a bha còmhla ris bha e ga togail agus dà chloich air a muin agus bha m’ athair ga togail agus a trì cnapan math air a muin. Agus bha e air a chunntais air dhuine cho làidir agus a bha san sgìreachd againn. Bha còig troighean is deich òirlich a dh’ àirde ann am m’ athair agus bha dà fhichead òirleach agus a h-ochd às a’ chom aige. Agus cha robh e trom ann am feòl idir. Agus cha robh m’ athair uair sam bith an stad fad na h-oidhche a ghabhail òran. An uair nach biodh a-staigh ach e fhèin is mo mhàthair gun chèilichean a bhith a-staigh na rachadh sibh dlùth dhan taigh chluinneadh sibh an t-òran ron doras agus langan aige air agus aig an aon àm a’ snìomh fhraoich air neo a’ snìomh mhurain. Cha bhiodh e na thàmh uair sam bith. Agus nan tigeadh feadhainn dhachaigh bhathar a’ teannadh ri bruidhinn is ri sheanchas agus air a’ cheann fo dheireadh ’s e sgeulachd a dh’ fheumte a ghabhail. Agus ghabhadh m’ athair an uair sin sgeulachd agus air neo-ar-thaing nach biodh an sgeulachd a’ còrdadh ris na daoine a bh’ air chèilidh agus bha sinne nar cnapaich bheaga a’ togail a a h-uile facal dhith. Agus bha toil mhòr againn a bhith a’ cluinntinn na sgeulachd agus nam bìte a’ toirt oirnn rud sam bith a dhèanamh, bhìte a’ gealltainn dhuinn sgeulachd a ghabhail a-nochd dhuinn air a shon. Agus seo an dòigh san d’ fhuair sinne na sgeulachdan sinn fhìn. Agus bha m’ athair ag innseadh dhomh nach robh an darna leth aige dhe na sgeulachdan is a bh’ aig athair fhèin. Ach bha tonn mhath aige dhiubh air a shon sin. Agus bha na seann-òrain aige. O! bha a’ chuid bu mhutha dhiubh. Cha robh uair sam bith aige ach na seann-òran ga seinn agus ’s e glè bheag dhe na seann-òrain nach cuala mise e a bhith a’ seinn mar sin.
Agus fhuair mi-fhìn cruit eile an uair sin mun tàinig an cogadh gu crìch agus bha dùil ’m a dhol innte cuideachd nuair a thigeadh an cogadh gu crich agus a thigeadh mo bhràthair dhaghaidh. Ach a-nist cha robh a’ chruit a bh’ ann an sin ro fhada o chruit m’ athar agus ’s ann a chunnaic iad iomchaidh dhomh fuireach far an robh mi gun chabhag na caonnag a bhith orm a’ falbh aiste. Agus ’s ann mar seo a bha. Dh’ fhan mi far an robh mi cuideachd.
Agus bha an teaghlach a’ tighinn air aghaidh agus nuair a bha a’ chiad mhac a bh’ agam a-mach às an sgoil choisinn e bursary agus chaidh a chur an uair sin gu secondary school agus chaidh e às an sin gu ruige Fort William agus gu mì-fhortanach fhuair e an-shocair ann a shin às an àite-loidsidh às an robh e nach do dhealaich riamh ris gus an tug i am bàs dha aig aois fichead bliadhna, ann an 1934 air an 3rd August. Dh’ eug e ann an Invergarry agus thug mi fhìn dhachaigh e. Agus a-nist dh’ eug m’ athair ann an ciad mhios ’n fhoghar ann an 1919 agus cha robh bochdainne na galair air na sìon ach dìreach an latha a bh’ ann an seo ach nuair a bha e an dèis a bhreaiceast a ghabhail bhuail an stroke e dìreach aig taobh an teine agus e a’ lasadh na pìobadh agus thog sinn sìos dhan leabaidh e, mi fhìn agus a’ bhean. Agus ’s ann air Didomhnaich a bh’ ann agus bha an còrr a mhuinntir an taighe às an eaglais agus bha dùil againn a-nist gun tigeadh a’ bhruidhinn ’uige air ais, ach cha tàinig agus bha e Didomhnaich fad an latha gun chainnt agus Diluain agus gu dà uair feasgar Dimàirt ’s ann a dh’ eug e. Agus bha e ceithir fichead bliadhna agus a còig gu leth an uair sin agus cha do dh’ airich e criod de bhochdainne riamh ach na rheumatics. Agus bha e na chlachair agus bha e na dhuine ainmeil làidir. Cha robh strì aige uair sam bith – tha mi fhìn ga chluinntinn sin, dà chiad punnd a chur air an scaile nuair a bhiodh iad a’ tomhas cheilpeadh. Agus b’ aithnte dhomh ultach eile a bhiodh e fhèin agus gillean eile a’ togail, clach mhòr agus bha i cho grinn agus cho sleamhainn. Cha robh greim oirre thall na a-bhos. Agus chunna mi ri mo linn fhìn aon ghille sgairteil agus thogadh e i ach ’s ann air a h-oir a bha e ga togail suas. Ach mar a bha m’ athair ga togail ’s ann far a’ chomhnard a bha i agus cha robh e a’ faighinn foipe ach a bhasan, agus am fear a bha còmhla ris bha e ga togail agus dà chloich air a muin agus bha m’ athair ga togail agus a trì cnapan math air a muin. Agus bha e air a chunntais air dhuine cho làidir agus a bha san sgìreachd againn. Bha còig troighean is deich òirlich a dh’ àirde ann am m’ athair agus bha dà fhichead òirleach agus a h-ochd às a’ chom aige. Agus cha robh e trom ann am feòl idir. Agus cha robh m’ athair uair sam bith an stad fad na h-oidhche a ghabhail òran. An uair nach biodh a-staigh ach e fhèin is mo mhàthair gun chèilichean a bhith a-staigh na rachadh sibh dlùth dhan taigh chluinneadh sibh an t-òran ron doras agus langan aige air agus aig an aon àm a’ snìomh fhraoich air neo a’ snìomh mhurain. Cha bhiodh e na thàmh uair sam bith. Agus nan tigeadh feadhainn dhachaigh bhathar a’ teannadh ri bruidhinn is ri sheanchas agus air a’ cheann fo dheireadh ’s e sgeulachd a dh’ fheumte a ghabhail. Agus ghabhadh m’ athair an uair sin sgeulachd agus air neo-ar-thaing nach biodh an sgeulachd a’ còrdadh ris na daoine a bh’ air chèilidh agus bha sinne nar cnapaich bheaga a’ togail a a h-uile facal dhith. Agus bha toil mhòr againn a bhith a’ cluinntinn na sgeulachd agus nam bìte a’ toirt oirnn rud sam bith a dhèanamh, bhìte a’ gealltainn dhuinn sgeulachd a ghabhail a-nochd dhuinn air a shon. Agus seo an dòigh san d’ fhuair sinne na sgeulachdan sinn fhìn. Agus bha m’ athair ag innseadh dhomh nach robh an darna leth aige dhe na sgeulachdan is a bh’ aig athair fhèin. Ach bha tonn mhath aige dhiubh air a shon sin. Agus bha na seann-òrain aige. O! bha a’ chuid bu mhutha dhiubh. Cha robh uair sam bith aige ach na seann-òran ga seinn agus ’s e glè bheag dhe na seann-òrain nach cuala mise e a bhith a’ seinn mar sin.
After
Marriage
When I married in 1913 I took the wife back home to my father’s house
for my mother’s was getting infirm. She was by then over sixty-years of age and
she was terribly pleased that a young, strong woman was with her that she had
known since she was born. She liked her very well. And now there was no doubt
at all that I was going to get a place for myself as quickly as could possibly
be managed, but the war broke out, the First World War, the year after I got
married. And my two brothers were staying with me – there was only one left of
them along with me, Neil and the other one Donald John, who had married and he
was a joiner and he had his own house in Howbeg and he was a joiner in that
locality, and the both of them left to go to the war. And I was left then by
myself. And I had another brother who had gone. He was the youngest of all. He
was under twenty years of age then and he left to be an attendant at the
Larbert Asylum. And in 1915 Donald John, my brother, was killed at Loos in
September, on the 25th. And my youngest brother, the attendant at
Larbert Asylum, took it so badly that he enlisted himself in order to be
avenged. And when he went through training he was shipped over to France and he
was in France until the Armistice was signed.
And I got another croft then before the war ended and I had expected to take it over as well when the war would come to an end and when my brother would come home. But now the croft that was there was not too far from my father’s croft and they saw it fitting for me to stay where I was without any rush or reluctance to leave it. And this is how thing turned out. I stayed where I was too.
And the family were growing up and when my first son was out of school he won a bursary and he was sent then to a secondary school and he went from there to Fort William and unfortunately he got uneasy there in the lodgings where he was from which he did not leave until he died at twenty years of age, in 1934 on the 3rd of August. He died in Invergarry and I took him home. And now my father died in the first month of autumn in 1919 and he didn’t suffer ill health or disease or anything but on that day but after he ate his breakfast he suffered a stroke just beside the fire as he was lighting his pipe and we took him down to the bed, myself and the wife. And it was on Sunday and the rest of the household was attending church and we expected his speech to return to him, but it didn’t and he was all day Sunday unable to speak and likewise from Monday until Tuesday afternoon when he died. And he was eighty-five and a half year of age then and he never suffered any kind of illness but rheumatics. And he was a mason and he was a man renowned for his strength. He never had to struggle at any time – I heard myself that he put two hundred pounds on a scale when he’d be weighing kelp. And I know of another lad that he and other lads would lift, a big boulder and it was well-shaped and slippy. There was no way to grip either here or there. And I saw myself in my own time only one strong lad and he lifted it up but it was on its side that he managed to lift it up. But the way in which my father lifted it was where it was flat and he only getting his palms underneath it, and the man who was along with him was lifting it and he had two stones on his back and my father was lifting it and he had three big lumps on his back. And he was reckoned to be the strongest man in our district. My father was five feet ten inches in height and he was forty-eight inches in his chest. He was not heavy in the flesh at all. And my father did not stop singing songs all night long. When he was in by himself with only my mother without any visitor in and if you had gone near to the house you’d hear the songs at the door and hear his voice and he’d be making heather ropes or spinning marram grass. He’d never take a rest at any time. And if a few came to the house then there’d be talking and conversing going on but at the end of this he’d have to tell a story. And my father would then tell a story and thankfully the people who had come on a house visit would enjoy the story and we as little children were picking up every word. And we greatly enjoyed listening to the story and if we were asked to do anything, it was promised that a story would be told to us for it. And this is the way in which we picked up stories for ourselves. And my father told me that he did not have one half of the stories that his own father had. But he had a good measure of them even at that. And he had the old songs. Oh! he had a great store of them. There was no time when he was not singing songs and there’s not many of the old songs that I did not hear him sing like that.
And I got another croft then before the war ended and I had expected to take it over as well when the war would come to an end and when my brother would come home. But now the croft that was there was not too far from my father’s croft and they saw it fitting for me to stay where I was without any rush or reluctance to leave it. And this is how thing turned out. I stayed where I was too.
And the family were growing up and when my first son was out of school he won a bursary and he was sent then to a secondary school and he went from there to Fort William and unfortunately he got uneasy there in the lodgings where he was from which he did not leave until he died at twenty years of age, in 1934 on the 3rd of August. He died in Invergarry and I took him home. And now my father died in the first month of autumn in 1919 and he didn’t suffer ill health or disease or anything but on that day but after he ate his breakfast he suffered a stroke just beside the fire as he was lighting his pipe and we took him down to the bed, myself and the wife. And it was on Sunday and the rest of the household was attending church and we expected his speech to return to him, but it didn’t and he was all day Sunday unable to speak and likewise from Monday until Tuesday afternoon when he died. And he was eighty-five and a half year of age then and he never suffered any kind of illness but rheumatics. And he was a mason and he was a man renowned for his strength. He never had to struggle at any time – I heard myself that he put two hundred pounds on a scale when he’d be weighing kelp. And I know of another lad that he and other lads would lift, a big boulder and it was well-shaped and slippy. There was no way to grip either here or there. And I saw myself in my own time only one strong lad and he lifted it up but it was on its side that he managed to lift it up. But the way in which my father lifted it was where it was flat and he only getting his palms underneath it, and the man who was along with him was lifting it and he had two stones on his back and my father was lifting it and he had three big lumps on his back. And he was reckoned to be the strongest man in our district. My father was five feet ten inches in height and he was forty-eight inches in his chest. He was not heavy in the flesh at all. And my father did not stop singing songs all night long. When he was in by himself with only my mother without any visitor in and if you had gone near to the house you’d hear the songs at the door and hear his voice and he’d be making heather ropes or spinning marram grass. He’d never take a rest at any time. And if a few came to the house then there’d be talking and conversing going on but at the end of this he’d have to tell a story. And my father would then tell a story and thankfully the people who had come on a house visit would enjoy the story and we as little children were picking up every word. And we greatly enjoyed listening to the story and if we were asked to do anything, it was promised that a story would be told to us for it. And this is the way in which we picked up stories for ourselves. And my father told me that he did not have one half of the stories that his own father had. But he had a good measure of them even at that. And he had the old songs. Oh! he had a great store of them. There was no time when he was not singing songs and there’s not many of the old songs that I did not hear him sing like that.
Reference:
NFC 1180, pp. 111–256
Image:
Duncan MacDonald, 1951, Peninerine, South Uist, by Dr Werner Kissling. By courtesy of the School of Scottish Studies, University of Edinburgh.
Duncan MacDonald, 1951, Peninerine, South Uist, by Dr Werner Kissling. By courtesy of the School of Scottish Studies, University of Edinburgh.
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