Traditions of John MacCodrum – IV

Anecdotes about John MacCodrum, styled Iain mac Fhearchair ’ic Codruim, especially those that contain pithy witticisms, spread far and wide throughout the Highlands and Islands. Here, for example, is quite a well known one taken down on the 17th of August 1946  by Calum Maclean from the recitation of Angus MacDonald, then aged eighty-three, who has been described by John Lorne Campbell (known as Fear Chanaigh)  as the last storyteller or seanchaidh of Canna:

 

Bha MacCodrum (Iain MacCodrum) a’ dol le sgothaich às Uibhist a dh’Ghlas^acho, agus thadhaill iad aig Tobar Mhuire. Ann an sin thàinig fear a-nuas agus dh’fhaighneachd e cò an comaundair a bh’ air a’ luing.  

“Tha a’ stiùir,” orsa MacCodrum. 

“A! chan e sin a tha mi a’ ciallachdh idir, ach cò a’ sgiobair a th’ oirre?”  

“Tha an crann,” ors’ esan. 

“Cò às a thug sibh an t-iomradh?”  

“Às ar gàirdeannan,” orsa MacCodrum. 

Thubhair^st a’ fear eile ann an sin: 

“An ann fo thuath a thàinig sibh?” 

“Pàir^st fo thuath is pàir^st fo thighearnan,” thubhair^st MacCodrum.

 

And the translation goes something like the following:

 

John MacCodrum was going by boat from Uist to Glasgow and they stopped over in Tobermory. There a man came down agus asked who was the commander of the boat. 

“The rudder,” replied MacCodrum. 

“Ah! that wasn’t what I meant at all but rather who is her skipper?” 

“The mast,” he said. 

“From where did you row?” 

“From our shoulders,” replied MacCodrum. 

The other man then asked: 

“Was is from the north you came?” 

“Some of us are commoners and some of us are nobles,” answered MacCodrum.

 

References:

NFC MS 1028: 184–85

William Matheson (ed.), The Songs of John MacCodrum: Bard to Sir James MacDonald of Sleat (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1938)

 

Image:

Angus MacDonald (1865–1949), styled Aonghas Eachainn, by courtesy of Canna House Archives (National Trust for Scotland)

Traditions of John MacCodrum – III

Another humorous anecdote concerning John MacCodrum and another famous bard, namely Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, was taken down by Calum Maclean from Angus MacLellan, (1879–1949), styled Aonghas mac Iain ’ic Chaluim and also Aonghas mac Anne Bàine, Griminish, Benbecula, on 10th of January 1947: 

 

Thàinig an siud Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair air chuair^st a dh’Uibhist. Thàinig e gu h-àraid mu thuath, agus bha e ag iarraidh stiùireadh air taigh MhicCodrum, am bàr^sd eile. Thachair feareigin ris ach cha do dh’aithnich iad a chèile. Cha robh fhios aig Alasdair gur h-e MacCodrum a thachair ris idir, agus thuir^st e mar seo:

 

“Am bidh thu cho math,” or’ esan, “agus gu stiùir thu mi air taigh MhicCodrum.”
“De ’n colas an taighe a th’ aige?”

 

“Well,” ors’ an duine, “taigh MhicCodrum,” ors’ esan, “is an dala taobh air a thughadh is an taobh eile gun tughadh idir dheth.”

 

Chum Alasdair roimhe. Rinn e siubhal mòr mun d’fhuair e an taigh. Bha e a' dèanamh gum biodh ceann dheth gun tughadh agus ceann eile air a thughadh. Ach ’s e bha Mac Codrum a’ ciallachadh, an taobh a-staigh dheth bha e gun thughadh idir, is bha an tughadh air an taobh a-mach.

 

Tha iad ag ràdha gum bheil Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, ga brith a bheil e fior neo nach eil, nach eil oidhche deug sa bhliadhna nach eil e a’ fal^abh air a mhàgan ò Bheinn Chàrsabhal chon na Fadhlach a Deas aig Beinne na Faoghla. Ga brith gu dè am breitheanas na am peanas a chuireadh air, tha seann-sean^achas ag innse gum bheil e mar sin, agus tha daoine ann a tha ag ràdha a chunnaic e agus a bha e a’ bruidhinn riutha: agus tha feadhainn ann a dh’innis e dhaibh mar a thachradh dhaibh, agus mar a dh’innis e dhaibh ’s ann a thachair dha na daoine sin, ga brith gu dè an seadh a th’ ann.

 

And the translation goes something like the following:

 

Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair (Alexander MacDonald) came on a trip to Uist; he came north and he wished to be directed to MacCodrum’s house, the othe poet. He met a man but they didn’t recognise one another. MacDonald had no idea that he had met MacCodrum, and he said:

 

“Would you so good,” he asked, “as to direct me to MacCodrum’s house?”

“What does his house look like?”

 

“Well,” said the man, “MacCodrum’s house is thatched on one side and doesn’t have any thatch on the other.”

 

MacDonald kept on. He travelled a great distance before he found the house. He thought that one side of the house wouldn’t have thatch but the other side would. But what MacCordum meant that the inside wouldn’t be thatched and the thatch was on the outside.

 

They say that Alexander MacDonald, whether this is true or not, that ten times a year he can be seen crawling from Ben Carsaval to the South Ford in Benbecula. Whatever judgment or punishment they inflicted on him, the old stories tell us this was so, and folk say that the saw him and that he spoke with them: and a few were told what happen to them, and that what was told to them indeed happened to them, in whichever way this happened to be.

 

The first anecdote shows MacCodrum trying to outwit the other with his sharp mind and, it might be supposed, is rather a tame version of poetic flyting. The next one contains a very definite supernatural element and claims that Alexander MacDonald’s ghost could be seen and allegedly spoke with folk and would offer predictions, some of which turned out to be true. Other sources claim that it was not Alexander MacDonald’s ghost but rather that of his brother, Lachlan, who was resident in South Uist for many years.

 

References:

NFC MS 1053: 79–80

William Matheson (ed.), The Songs of John MacCodrum: Bard to Sir James MacDonald of Sleat (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1938)

 

Image:

Hebridean Blackhouse

Traditions of John MacCodrum – II

A few other humorous anecdotes about John MacCodrum were collected by Calum Maclean from Angus John MacLellan, who belonged to Griminish, Benbecula, on the 10th of January 1947. Angus John MacLellan (1879–1949), styled Aonghas mac Iain ’ic Chaluim and also Aonghas mac Anne Bàine, was renowned for his historical tales. Maclean remembers MacLellan as “a slightly-built but very active man nearing seventy years of age. He was very alert mentally and a tireless worker. He was well-read and retained practically everything he read. He could read both Gaelic and English. He could turn his hand almost to any craft. He was a stone-mason, joiner, cartwright, cobbler and shopkeeper as well as being a crofter.” Angus MacLellan received much of his repertoire from John Gordon MacIntyre, who hailed from the Howmore district of South Uist and lived latterly at Griminish, Benbecula. Maclean remarked in an obituary notice that MacLellan “was certainly one of nature’s noblemen.” By the time of his death, Maclean had recorded over one hundred items from him and had also begun to take down his life-story:

 

Seo agaibh beagan bhriathran ma dheidhinn geiread nam bàir^sd a bh’ ann o shean. Chan eil bàir^sd an-diugh ann, on a dh’fhal^abh an t-seann-fheadhainn, agus tha a’ bhuil sin ann, an seorsa bàr^sdachd a thathar a’ dèanamh an-diugh cha bhàr^sdachd i. Tha beagan naidheachd an seo ma dheidhinn Bàr^sd MacCodrum. Bha e air fastadh aig a’ Mhorair Dhòmhnallach, nuair a bha an Ceann a Tuath aige, agus bhiodh e a’ gabhail cuair^stean dhan Eilean Sgitheanach mar bu trice. Thachair dhaibh gun d’ fhuair iad cuireadh gu ruige Dùn Bheagain agus bha mar bu trice a bha, bha an deoch a’ dol gu pailt.

 

Bha e na mhasladh do dhuine sam bith èirigh on bhòr^sd gus an togte air fal^abh e le gillean frithealaidh, a bha deiseil air an cùluibh airson an togail do sheòmbar, agus nuair a thigeadh iad uc(hc)a fhèin a-rithist bha iad a’ suidhe air n-ais gus an olte an casg a bh’ air fhosgladh. Ach, co-dhiù, thuit MacCodrum air a dhruim agus, co-dhiù, leis na bha san taobh a-staigh dheth dhen deoch ’s ann a thionndaidh a stamag. Thàinig bàr^sd MhicLeòid ma chuair^st agus theann e air gàireachdaich, nuair a chunnaic e bàrd MhicDhòmhnaill air a dhruim agus thuir^st e mar seo: 

 

Bàr^sd MhicDhòmhnaill air a dhruim,

A’ cuir as a chionn a chòrr,

Is ga b’e thug dhà-san a dhìol,
Thug e biadh a choin MhicLeòid.

 

Dh’fhosgail MacCodrum a shùilean agus sheall e air bàr^sd MhicLeòid agus fhreagair e mar seo e:

 

Is ailis è sin air MacLeòid,

’S ann bu chòir a bhith ga chleith,

Mura faigh a chuid chon a lòn,

Ach na nì luchd-òil a sgeith.

 

Bha am fear eile air a ghearradh le geur-chainnteas agus nach b’ urrainn dhà an còrr a ghràdha ris.

 

Thachair dhà turas eile a bhith a’ dol gu ruige Muile, do MhacCodrum, agus nuair a dh’acraich iad aig cìdhe a bh’ ann, thàinig na Muilich a-mach:

 

 “Cò às a thug sibh an t-iomradh?” ors à-san.

 

“Thug às na gàirdeannan,” orsa MacCodrum.

 

“Gu dè seòrsa dhaoine a th’ annaibh?” ors’ am Muileach.

 

“Tha sinn ann,” ors’ esan, “pàir^st o thuath is pàir^st o thighearna.”

 

Thachair dhà a bhith turas eile a’ dol ro Fadhail a Tuath eadar Beinne na Faoghla agus Ceann a Tuath Uibhist, agus gu dè as na lathaichean a bha sin ach muc mhòr a thàinig gon a’ chladaich, muc-mhara. Bha mòran dhaoine a’ dol ga coimhead agus choinnich an duine a bha seoach MacCodrum.

 

Well, cha do shaoil e mòran nach ann a’ coimhead air a’ mhuic a bha e, agus thuir^st e mar seo:

 

“An ann on mhuic a thàini’ tu, a dhuine?” ors’ esan.

 

“Dearbha fhèine, chan ann,” ors’ esan, “ach o thè a b’ fhèarr na do mhàthair-sa.”  

 

Cha d’fhuair e a-mach riamh cò am fear a thachair ris, agus bha e a’ cuir dragh air. Bha e gu math geur an duine a bh’ ann ga brith cò e. Bha iad an siud tuath a Chinn a Tuath a’ leigeil locha àraid a bh’ ann gu muileann airson gu faigheadh e uisge gu leòr airson bleith samhraidh a bh’ aig an tuath. Bha na daoine cruinn uile gu lèir a’ leigeil an locha, ach bha MacCodrum, cha robh e ann. Suas ma mheathon latha ràinig MacCodrum agus chaidh cuideigin a-nunn far an robh e le dram agus:

 

“Seo agad, Iain,” ors’ an duine a shìn dha an dram, “seo agad drùdhag de bhùrn Loch Hàstainn,” an loch a bha iad a’ leigeadh. Dh’fheuch MacCodrum an dram agus sheall e air an duine is thuir^st e mar seo:

 

Gum beannaicheadh Dia bùrn Loch Hàstainn

Mas a math an t-àileadh,

Is seachd fèarr a bhlas,
Is ma tha e mar seo gu lèir,
Is mòr am beud a leigeil às.

Fhuair Iain dheth. Fhuair e mathanas às an ùine a dh’fhuirich e air fal^abh on locha, o chionn bha car de dh’eagal aig a h-uile duine a dhol ann an cainnt ri Iain MacCodrum.

 

Thachair dha turas eile a bhith às an Eilean Sgitheanach. Cha robh fhios aca cò é às an taigh, às an deach e a-staigh, agus shuidh e gu dìblidh an dala taobh dhen taigh. Dh’iarr bean an taighe:

 

“O! bheiribh greim bidhidh dhan t-srainnsear.”

 

Agus fhuair e sin. Fhuair e drùdhag bhainne ann an soitheach air choreigin agus pìos arain.

 

Tha mi a’ tuigsinn nach robh am bainne ro-phailt as an t-soitheach agus gu dè thàinig an rathad an t-soithich as an robh am bainne ach cuileag agus laigh i ann. Thuir^st MacCodrum ris a’ chuileig mar seo:

 

“O chreutair leibidich,” ors’ esan, “carson nach eil thu gad bhàthadh fhèin ann an àite às am faoda’ tu grunnachadh?”

 

O! thuig  bean an taighe math gu lèor gun robh e a’ talach air na fhuair e a bhainne.

 

“Tuilleadh ann dhan duine! Tuilleadh ann dhan duine,” orsa bean an taighe.

 

“Tha gu leòr airson an arain de dh’annlann agam mar-thà,” ors’ esan; agus:

“Is dòcha,” ors’ ise, “gur sì-se MacCodrum.”

 

“Tha iad ag ràdha gur mi,” ors’ esan.

 

“Tha iad ag ràdha gun a chaochail Mac ’icAilein,” ors’ ise.

 

“Mar do chaochail,” ors’ esan, “rinn iad an eucoir thìodhlaic iad e.”

 

Agus sin agaibh beagan dhe na briathran geura a bh’ aig MacCodrum ga thoir^st seachad, nuair a bha e na bhàr^sd. Bha e sin cho ainimeil ri gin a bha an Gàidhealtachd na h-Al^aba riamh.

 

And the translation goes something like this:

 

Here you have a few words by way of the poets’ wit of yore. There are no such poets now as there were long ago and that’s telling for the poetry composed today is not poetry. There are a few stories about John MacCodrum. He was in the service of Lord MacDonald of Sleat when he owned North Uist and he would often take trips over to the Isle of Skye. It so happened that they received an invite to go to Dunvegan and as was often the case there was plenty of drink.

 

It was a complete affront for anyone to rise from the table until they were carried away by the attendants who stayed at the rear in order to lift them to their rooms and if they came to themselves they would then sit back until the cask that had been opened was drained. But, in any event, MacCodrum fell over on his back and with the amount he had drunk his stomach was upset. MacLeod’s bard turned around and he began laughing when he saw MacDonald’s bard on his back and he said:

 

Lord MacDonald’s bard on his back,

He who is throwing up in excess,

The one who gave him his problem,

Is now giving MacLeod’s dogs a feed.

 

MacCodrum opened his eyes and looked at MacLeod’s bard and answered him thus:

 

That’s an insult to MacLeod,

That should be hidden away,

The dogs wouldn’t get their food,

If the drinkers didn’t puke.

 

The other man was so cut to the quick with such a witty riposte that he was unable to say anything else.

 

Is so happened that on another trip he [MacCodrum] was in Mull and when they anchored at the harbour the Mull folk came out:

 

“From where did you row?” they asked.

 

“By use of the arms,” answered MacCodrum.

 

“What kind of folk are you?” asked a Mullman.

 

“We are,” he replied, “partly peasant and partly noble.”

 

On another occasion he was going over the North Ford between Benbecula and North Uist and it so happened that a whale had beached itself on the shore. Many folk went over to see it and this man met MacCodrum.

 

Well, he didn’t think much about going over to view the whale and he said:

 

“Were you borne from the whale, man?” he asked.

 

“Indeed, not,” he replied, “but from one far better than your own mother.”

 

He never found out to whom he had been talking and this troubled him. He was quite sharp-witted whoever he was. They were in the northern part of North Uist and they were draining this loch for a mill so that they could get enough water for the summer milling. All the local folk had gathered together to drain the loch apart from MacCodrum who was not present. Around midday, MacCodrum appeared and someone came over to where he was and offered him a dram:

 

“Here you are, John,” said the man handing him a dram, “a dram from made of Loch Hastainn’s water,” – the loch which they had been draining. MacCodrum tasted the dram and looked at the man and said the following:

 

May God bless Loch Hàstainn’s water

If it’s bouquet is good,

Then it’s taste is seven times better

And if it’s all like this

It’s a great pity to drain it.

 

John got off with it. He was forgiven for his absence from staying near the loch for everyone was afraid of John MacCodrum’s sharp tongue.

 

It so happened that he was again in the Isle of Skye. No one knew who he was in this house – the house which he entered, and he sat down rather dejectedly at the other side of the house.

 

The goodwife said:

 

“Oh, bring the stranger some food.”

 

He got that. He got a little milk in a bowl and a piece of bread.

 

I understand that there wasn’t much milk in the bowl and whatever came by way of the bowl but a fly and it became stuck. MacCodrum addressed the fly as follows:

 

“Oh, abject creature,” he said, “why are you trying to drown yourself in a place where you can only paddle?”

 

Oh, the goodwife knew full well that he was complaining about the amount of milk he got.

 

“Give more to the man! Give more to the man,” exclaimed the goodwife.

 

“I’ve got enough bread already for supping,” he explained; and:

 

“Maybe,” she said, “you’re MacCodrum.”

 

“They say that I am,” he replied.

 

“They say that Clanranald has died,” she said.

 

“If he hasn’t,” he said, “then they’ve made a grave mistake by burying him.”

 

And there you have the sharp witticisms of John MacCodrum, the poet. He was just as famous as any of the others in the Scottish Highlands.

 

References:

NFC MS 1053: 72–77

William Matheson (ed.), The Songs of John MacCodrum: Bard to Sir James MacDonald of Sleat (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1938)

 

Image:

Dunvegan Castle, Isle of Skye / Caisteal Dhùn Bheagain, An t-Eilean Sgitheanach

Traditions of John MacCodrum

Quite a few traditions concerning John MacCodrum (1693–1779), styled Iain mac Fhearchair ’ic Codruim, were collected by Calum Maclean from various storytellers. Here, for example, is one such story collected from the recitation of John MacPherson, styled Iain mac Chaluim Mhòir, who belonged to Lionacleit, Benbecula, but then staying in the remote isle of Rarnish. Given the biographical sketch given in Maclean’s entry of the day he met him, MacPherson seems to have been a rather remarkable character. The following item was recorded by Calum Maclean on the 4th of September 1949:

 

’S e bàr^sd ainimeil a bh’ ann gad nach eil cus dhen obair aige ann a sgrìobhadh. Chan e sgoilear a bh’ ann. Bha an taigh aige ann arn Peubail agus bhiodh e fhèin agus a nàbaidhean a’ deànamh an treabhaidh còmhladh. Cha robh iad a’ cumail ach each an duine. Ach chaill Iain mac Fhearachair an t-each an àm an treabhaidh agus chuala e an seo gun robh each sa Cheann a Deas, ann an àite ris an can iad Stadhlaigearraidh, agus na rachadh e a dh’ iarraidh an eich gu robh e col(t)ach gu leòr gu faigheadh e e. Dh’fhal^abh Iain MacCodrum agus chaidh e dhan Cheann a Deas gu ruige Stadhlaigearraidh agus cheannaich e an t-each agus thug e dhachaigh e. Rinn iad an treabhadh am pàir^st, agus nuair a bha an treabhadh seachad is grothaichean dhen t-seòrsa sin, tha a dh’fhasan ac(hc)a, tha e ac(hc)a gon an latha an-diugh, a bhith a’ leigeadh nan each mar sgaoil as a’ mhòintich gus an tig àm tarraing na mònadh. Leig Iain mac Fhearachair an t-each mar sgaoil còmh’ ri càch agus nuair a thànaig àm tarraing ri mònadh, dh’fhal^abh e ga iarraidh. ’S e Seumas a bh’ air an each, an t-ainⁱm a bh’ aige air. Agus nuair a ràinig Iain mac Fhearchair ’s ann a thionndaidh an t-each air agus thionndaidh an t-each gu dubh air agus ’s ann a rinn Iain mac Fhearachair òran dhà. 
 

And the translation goes something like this:
 

He was a famous bard although not much of his work appears in print. He wasn’t a scholar. He had a house in Paible and he and his neighbours used to plough together. They kept a horse only for one man. But John MacCodrum lost the horse at ploughing time and he heard that there was a horse in South Uist at a place they call Stilligarry and if he went to fetch the horse then he would probably get it. John MacCodrum set out and he went to Stilligarry in South Uist and he purchased the horse and brought it home. They each took a turn at ploughing and when the ploughing was finshed and other types of work like that it was the custom, and it remains to this day, to let the horses free to roam the hills until it was time to cut the peat. John MacCodrum let the horse free along with the others and when it came to peat-cutting time he went to fetch it. The horse was named James; that was the name he gave it. And when John MacCodrum reached the place where the horse it turned fiercely on him and so John MacCodrum composed a song for it.

 

Calum Maclean gives an interesting description of his visit to John MacPherson in Rarnish:

 

Didòmhnaich, 4 An Sultain 1949

Chaidh mi dhan Aifreann sa mhadainn agus an uair a fhuair mi air ais is a fhuair mi mo dhinnear rinn mi deiseil airson a dhol a-mach gu Ràrnais air taobh an iar an eilein. Chuala mi o chionn fhada gun robh sgeulaiche mach a-muigh an sin, Iain mac Chaluim Mhòir. Cha chuala mi e ag innseadh sgeulachdan roimhe ach chuala mi gun robh na sgeulachdan aige. Cha robh mi ach air ùr-thighinn a Bheinne na Faoghla nuair a chuala mi ma dheidhinn an toiseach. Ach bha an t-àite anns a bheil e glè dhuilich fhaighinn a-mach ga ionnsaigh. Chan eil rathad idir a’ dol a-mach gu Ràrnais. Feumar a dhol ann le bàta. Co-dhiù, thàinig car gam iarraidh mu dhà uair feasgar agus thugadh sìos gu cidhe Ghramasdail mi. Bha bàta ri thighinn aig leth-uair an dèidh dhà, ach b’ fheudar dhomh fuireach air cidhe Ghramasdail gus an robh e ceithir uairean feasgar. Bhrist inneal a’ bhàta agus chum sin air ais iad. Bha astar còrr is trì mile againn ri dhèanamh mun d’fhuair sinn a-mach Ràrnais. Bha mac le Iain mac Chaluim Mhòir a’ dol a-mach còmhla ri fear a’ bhàta. Chunnaic mi sealladh math air eilean Ghrimiosaigh air an taobh a tuath. Tha sluagh mòr dhaoine a’ fuireach ann. Cha robh mi riamh thall ann fhathast. Tha Iain Mac a’ Phearsain a’ fuireach ann an taigh beag iarainn air bruaich a’ chladaich. Ri taobh an taighe aige tha ballachan de thiugh mòr cloiche a bha e fhèin a’ togail. Cha do chuir e crìoch air fhathast. Tha e fhèin air aon t-sùil agus tha e gu bhith dall. Cha mhòr gum faic e dad idir. Tha e gu bhith ceithir fichead bliadhna a-niste. Tha a bhean marbh agus chan eil còmhla ris a-staigh ach dithis mhac. Bha nighean phòsda leis aig an taigh cuideachd còmhla ris an duine aice agus dithis chloinne. Cha robh Gàidhlig aig an duine idir. Rugadh Iain Mac a’ Phearsain ann an Lìonaclait am Beinne na Faoghla. Bha trì duine deug anns an teaghlach. Chaidh e gu muir nuair a bha e glè òg. B’ ann air soitheach seòlaidh a chaidh e an toiseach a-mach gu San Francisco. Thug iad 112 latha air an turas. Bha e a’ seòladh gu New Zealand agus Australia as dèidh sin. Bha e ag obair greis an Australia. Bha e cuideachd anns na Solomon Islands, ann am French Guinea agus bha e a-staigh ann am meadhan Àfrica mu dheas. Nuair a thàinig an aois air thill e dhachaigh gu Beinne na Foghla. Bha e a’ fuireach greis ann an Grìminis agus thàinig e an uair sin a-mach gu Ràrnais. ’S e ban-Shasannach a bha pòsda aige ach a dh’ aindeoin sin tha Gàidhlig aig na mic agus an nighean. ’S e sgeulaiche math a th’ ann. Nuair a bha a na ghille òg ann an Lìonaclait bha dithis bhoireannach ann aig an robh sgeulachdan, Màiri nighean Mhìcheil agus Caitrìona nighean Mhìcheil. ’S ann aca-san a chuala mac Chaluim Mhòir na sgeulachdan. Cha robh sinn fada ann gus an do thòisich sinn air na sgeulachdan. Thug e dhomh an toiseach an sgeulachd, Uilleam Dèan Suidhe. Bha innseadh math dhith aige. Thug e dhomh cuideachd an sgeulachd, Bireachan Beag agus Bireachan Mòr. Bha i seo aige gu math cuideachd. An uair sin thug e dhomh na sgeulachdan mun triùir bhraithrean a dh’fhalbh leis a’ bhonnach mòr is am mollachd, dithis dhiubh, agus am bonnach beag is am beannachd aig an fhear a b’ òige. Chaidh leis an fhear òg gu math. Cha chuala mi an sgeulachd seo roimhe ach tha i coltach ri grunn math dhe na sgeulachdan eadar-nàiseanta. Fhuair mi òrain bhuaithe cuideachd agus seanchas mu Dhonnchadh Bàn agus Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair. Bha e mu ochd uairean as t-oidhche nuair a b’ fheudar dhomh tilleadh a chionn chan fhaigheadh am bàta a-staigh gu cidhe Ghramasdail mura biodh an làn freagarrach. Bha droch oidhche againn a’ tilleadh dhachaigh. Dh’fhalbh an stiùir dhen bhàta nuair a bha sinn mu choinneamh Ghriomasaigh agus b’ fheudar dhuinn tilleadh agus am faighinn. Bha oidhche fhluich ann nuair a fhuair mi dhachaidh.

 

Sunday, 4 September 1949

I attended Mass in the morning and when I got back I got my dinner and made ready to go out to Rarnish on the west side of the island. I heard a long while back that there was a good storyteller out there called Iain mac Chaluim Mhòir (John MacPherson). I’ve never heard him telling stories before but I heard that he has stories. I had only recently arrived in Benbecula when I heard about him at first. But the place in which he stays is very difficult to get to. There is no road going out to Rarnish at all. It has to be reached by boat. Anyway, a car came to fetch me around two o’clock in the afternoon and I was taken down to Gramasdale pier. The boat was to arrive at half-past two but I had to wait at Gramasdale pier until four o’clock in the afternoon. The boat’s engine broke and that kept them back. There was a distance of more than three miles to travel before we reached Rarnish. John MacPherson’s son came out with the boatman. I got a good view of Grimisay towards the north. A great many folk stay on it. I’ve never been there before. John MacPherson stays in a small iron shack on the shore side. Besides his house there are large, thick stonewalls that he was building. He hasn’t completed it yet. He has only one eye and he’s going blind. He can scarcely see anything at all. He’s nearly eighty years old now. His wife is dead and he has only his two sons who stay with him. He also has a daughter married in the house along with her are her husband and their two children. Her husband doesn’t speak Gaelic at all. John MacPherson was born in Lionacleit in Benbecula. He was one of thirteen of a family. He went to sea when he was very young. He went at first on a sailing ship out to San Francisco. He spent 112 days on the journey. He sailed to New Zealand and Australia after that. He worked for a while in Australia. He was also in the Solomon Islands, in French Guinea and was in the middle of South Africa. When he grew old he returned home to Benbecula. He stayed for a while in Griminish and then he came out to Rarnish. He was married to an English woman but despite that his sons and daughter speak Gaelic. He’s a good storyteller. When he was a young lad in Lionacleit there were two women who were storytellers: Màiri nighean Mhìcheil agus Caitrìona nighean Mhìcheil. It was from them that John MacPherson heard his stories. It wasn’t long before we began on the stories. He gave me to begin with the story, Uilleam Dèan Suidhe (Willie Sit Down). He had a good version of it. He also gave me the story Bireachan Beag agus Bireachan Mòr (Wee Bireachan and Big Bireachan). He also told this well. Then he gave me the stories about the three brothers who left with the big bannock with a curse, two of them, and the little bannock with a blessing for the youngest one. The young man faired well. I’ve never heard this story before but it appears to be like a good lot of the international tales. I also got songs from him and an anecdote about Duncan Bàn Macintyre and Alexander MacDonald. It was around eight o’clock at night when I had to return for the boat wouldn’t be able to berth at Gramasdale pier if the tide wasn’t suitable. We had a bad night of it returning home. The rudder broke off when we were opposite Grimisay and we had to go back to get it. It was a wet night by the time I got home.

 

References:

William Matheson (ed.), The Songs of John MacCodrum: Bard to Sir James MacDonald of Sleat (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1938)

NFC 1301: 72–77

NFC 1179: 312–13

 

Image:

North Uist / Uibhist a Tuath