Following on from a recent blog, here is more material about the
redoubtable Lochaber athlete. Both of these anecdotes were recorded from John
MacDonald of Highbridge and transcribed by Calum Maclean on the 4th and the
25th of January 1951 respectively. The first anecdote is as follows:
Tha fhios gun cuala sibh uile ma dhéidhinn a’
fear ris an abradh iad A. A. Cameron, Magh Comair. Bu mhath a b’ aithne dhomh
an duine. Bha e trip a siod aig cleasan. Agus bha duine ann a sin agus bearst
aige. Agus bha thu a’ cur do chasan air a’ bhearst. Agus ’ga slaodadh
fiach dé an cuideam a thogadh tu. Bha làmh a’ dol m’an cuairst. Cha
robh e toileach seo fhiachainn ach thug feadhainn eile air fhiachainn. Agus ’n
uair a dh’ fhiach e seo, ’s ann a shlaod e às an amhaich uile gu léir e. Agus
bha e briste. Ach shìn e m’an cuairst an ad agus thrus e móran airigead
do’n bhodach a bha a’ deànadh fhorstan air daoine làidir, fiach dé neart a
thogadh iad.
Bha e turas eile ann a Siorrachd Pheairst.
Bha clach mhór ann a sin aig taobh gàrradh agus theireadh iad gur h-e duine
foghainteach a thogadh idir i: a chuireadh gaoth eadar i is talamh. Ach dh’fhalabh
Alasdair agus rug e air a’ chlach (F624.2.) agus thilig e taobh eile
a’ ghàrraidh i agus bha i a siod gus an latha an-diugh. Na bu có an duine a
bheireadh às i, chan ’eil fora(fh)ais fhathast.
And the translation goes something
like this:
I know that you have all heard about the man
they call A. A. Cameron, Mucomir. I knew the man well. He was once at the
Highland games. And there was man was there who had a loom. You put your feet
on the loom and you pulled it to see how much weight you could lift. There was
a handle that went round. He wasn’t willing to try it but a few others made him
give it a go. When he tried this, he put it completely out of joint and it was
broken. But he put a hat around and he collected a lot of money for the old man
who made a fortune from strongmen who tried their strength out in trying to lift
it.
He was another time in Perthshire. There was
a big boulder besides a dyke and they said that only a powerfully built man
would be able to lift it. Alexander went and lifted the boulder and threw it
over the dyke where it lies to this very day. I’ve no idea who would be able to
move it now.
The
second anecdote concerns A. A’s grandfather, a well-known strongman in his own
right:
Bha bodach gu math làidir (F610.) anns an
dùthaich seo. B’ e sin seanair do’n duine fhoghainteach air an robh mi a’ bruidheann,
A. A. Cameron, cho foghainteach is a bha ’s an dùthaich (F610.). Agus ’n
uair a bhitheadh e a falabh ’am cheàrdaich le crann, chuireadh e air
a’ ghualainn e…Ach co dhiubh chuireadh e air a ghualainn e agus aige ri tighinn
ochd
mìle do’n cheàrdaich (H1562.2.). Agus nam bitheadh e a’ dol ’an Ghearasdan ’s a
each is cairst a a’ tighinn leis. Thiligeadh e aig doras
na ceàrdaich e agus dh’ fhalaadh e ’n Ghearasdan. Ach bha e a’ latha
a bha seo a’ toirst dachaidh mòine agus chaidh a chairst
ann an àite bog agus i fodha cho fad is a rachadh i. Cha b’ urrainn do’n each a
slaodadh às aig cho seòlta is a bha iad ag obair air. Ach ’s ann a smaointich e
gun dugadh e an t-each, gu fuaisgealadh e as a’ chairst e, agus leis
an t-seòltachd agus an draghadh a bh’ aige fhéin oirre, thug e às i (H1562.2.).
Agus thuirst e:
“Och, chan ’eil mi’ gabhail iongantas ’s a’
bith ged nach b’ urrainn do’n each a chairst a thoirst às
an toll,” thuirst e. “Thug e gu leòr dhomh fhìn a dhèanadh!”
And the translation goes something
like this:
There was quite a strong old man in this
district. He was the grandfather of the strongman, A. A. Cameron, who I’ve been
talking about, a man who was as powerfully built as there has even been here.
He’d go to the smithy with a plough, he’d carry it on his shoulder…and anyway
he’d carry it on his shoulder and had to walk eight miles to the smithy. And if
he had to go to Fort William he would take his horse and cart. He would throw
it down at the smithy door and then leave for Fort William. But on this day he
was taking home some peat and his cart went into a bog and sank down as far as
it would go. The horse couldn’t pull it free no matter how skilfully they worked.
Then he thought to himself that if he was to take the horse out of the harness that
he would tie himself to the cart, and with his dexterity and tugging he managed
to free it. And he said:
“Och, I’m not surprised at all that the horse
couldn’t pull the cart free from the hole,” he said. “It took enough out of me
to manage it myself!”
The
Rev. Somerled MacMillan in his book Bygone
Lochaber references A. A. Cameron on two occasions. It is likely that he
got the following anecdotes from John MacDonald of Highbridge as the Bard – as
he was sometimes referred to – is acknowledged in his preface:
Mucomir farm was once the home of Alexander
Anthony Cameron, the world-famous athlete and heavy-weight champion. His father
was quite a strong man but was better known locally for his skill as a fiddler.
It is said that once an athlete named MacGregor complained to old Mucomir about
his song lifting all the main prizes at the different Highlands Games. The old
man treated the matter light-heartedly and remarked quite casually that he had
a daughter who could beat either of them if he cared to meet her. Kate, the
daughter was a match for any man of strength. It was the writer’s privilege to
meet her when she was an old woman. She declared that she and her famous brother
inherited their strength from their mother’s father─big Sandy MacMillan, one
time tenant of Moy farm. After their father’s death, A. A. Cameron and his
brother tenanted Mucomir from for a time.
The
Big Sandy mentioned above is the subject of the second anecdote:
Big Sandy MacMillan, one time tenant of Moy
farm, was one of the strongest men in Lochaber. His daughter was the mother of
A. A. Cameron, the world-famous athlete, and it is believed that the latter
inherited his strength from his maternal grandfather.
One day Sandy’s horse and cart got stuck in a
bog at Gairlochy. Not in the least perturbed, he unyoked the beast and pulled
it clear, then, taking the trams, he pulled the cart out of the quagmire. After
this amazing feat of strength he made this casual remark: “I make no wonder the
poor beast couldn’t do it when it took my all my time to do it myself!”
On another occasion his plough needed minor
repairs and so he lifted it up with one hand, placed it on his shoulder, and
carried it from Moy to the blacksmith’s shop at Spean Bridge, a distance of
five miles.
Several years ago there used to be Annual
Games held at Achnacarry, when local stalwarts took part. Sandy had never
competed before but his friends persuaded him to enter for putting the stone.
Taking it up in his hand, he looked at it and asked, “Are you allowed to throw
it as far as you like?” When told that this was so he hurled it farther than
the rest of the competitors, including the renowned MacDonald brothers of
Cranachan. The fact this inexperienced competitor had beaten the favourites
caused surprise among the judges, who, in order to save the would-be champions
from embarrassment, disqualified MacMillan on the flimsy pretext that he had
not thrown the stone in a straight line.
References:
Somerled MacMillan, Bygone Lochaber: History and Traditional (Glasgow:
Privately Published, 1971), pp. 26–27; 93–94
SSS NB 3, p. 204
SSS NB 6, pp. 503–04
Image:
A.
A. Cameron, c. 1890s.
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