A Folklorist’s Uncle: Angus Nicolson of Raasay

Following the conclusion of the Second Word War, Professor James Hamilton Delargy (1899–1980), founding father and Director of the Irish Folklore Commission based in Dublin, sent Calum Maclean (1915–60) back to Scotland in order to collect the fast-dying Gaelic oral traditions of his native Raasay. Maclean had been in ‘exile’ for the past seven years in Ireland where he took the opportunity not only initially to further his studies but also latterly to join the Commission’s staff and to become one of their best collectors.

Maclean undertook a folklore pilot project from his home base in Churchton, Raasay, from the end of December until the 18 of February 1946. Such was the success of this trial run that Maclean would thenceforth take up permanent residence in Scotland and while still an employee of the Commission would, over next five years, collect a great deal of traditions mainly in the predominantly Catholic and Gaelic-speaking Southern Hebrides.

On arriving back in his native isle, Maclean confided in a diary entry what might be described as his mission statement:

I, Calum I. Maclean, began two days ago to collect the oral tradition of the island of Raasay…I was born and reared on this island. When I was young there were many people here who had tales and songs which had never been written down, and which never will be, since the old people are now dead, and all that they knew is with them in the grave. There are still some people alive who remember some of the songs and traditions of their forefathers, and as it seemed to me that there are more songs than anything else available, I decided to write down those which I could find.

Considering that Maclean’s own family were renowned tradition bearers, singers and pipers, it would have been rather churlish not to begin at home. And so, for the next two months, Maclean amassed a great deal of lore from his mother Christina, father Malcolm and brother Sorley. The lion’s share of material, however, was recorded from his maternal uncle, Angus Nicolson (1890–1965), styled Aonghas Shomhairle Iain ’ic Shomhairle and, his paternal aunt, Peggy MacLean (1869–1950), styled Peigi Chaluim Iain Ghairbh. Maclean’s Raasay collection was mainly songs along with associated stories about their provenance and background. In his memoir of Maclean, Hamish Henderson noted that: “His uncle Angus Nicolson was a fine singer with a wide repertoire, and both his father and aunt Peggy Maclean were singers too, so Calum’s interest in Gaelic traditional song was no doubt kindled in his earliest childhood.”

Angus Nicolson was then aged fifty-five and had been a shepherd all his working days at first in Lismore, then in a place near Oban in Argyll, followed by Ardgour in Inverness-shire, and finally in Glenlyon, Perthshire. After his lengthy stay on the mainland Scottish Highlands, Nicolson returned to Raasay in 1940 to take on the farm in Clachan, the largest on the island. Nicolson was born in Brae Trotternish in the isle of Skye within clear sight of Raasay and was brought up in the Braes at a place called Achnahanaid.

As young lad in the Braes, Angus would act as a messenger for an old neighbouring spinster called Mary MacIntosh, styled Màiri Iain ’ic Chaluim. She was constantly in demand if there was a luadh (waulking session) or a wedding in the district and would always be at the forefront of the singers. She was full of old lore and was very devoted to music and dancing. She was so keen on pipe-music that if she heard a piper then she would immediately start to dance even if she was in the middle of a potato field. One day, so it is said, she followed a passing steamer for three miles along the Braes shore, for on board there was a piper playing. As a kind gesture by the old woman, Angus picked up all the old songs from her singing. Although Mary MacIntosh died at an advanced age in the winter of 1917, not all her lore went with her to the grave. Angus later recalled an episode that he told his nephew:

He tells that on one very wet day he saw her crouching before the door of a byre. It was a miserably cold day and the rain dripped from her clothing. She was soaking wet, cold and uncomfortable, but, unaware that anyone was listening, she was singing:   

Cùl ri m’ leannan ’s e chuir mi ’n-diugh,

                        Rùn nan cailean tha mi an dèidh ort:

                        Cùl ri m’ leannan ’s e chuir mi ’n-diugh.

Throughout his life that has remained as one of the most vivid memories of Màiri Iain ’ic Chaluim…Fragments here and there are all that he now remembers of some of the songs. 

Almost all of Angus’s songs came from this one source but it is conceivable that his repertoire may have been augmented by others that he would have heard from other singers either in Skye or Raasay and perhaps in the places in which he had previously worked. Elsewhere Maclean writes about this uncle in the following terms:

Angus Nicolson…had also a large number of songs and sang them well. His voice was quite untrained, but in his singing he could differentiate between melodies which seemed so alike that it was difficult to know which was which. He had one beautiful little song…:

                                    My Duncan has gone to the mountain,

                                    My Duncan has gone to the mountain,

                                    My Duncan has gone to the mountain,

                                    And has returned not homewards.

                                    The blood of your heart and breast,

                                    The blood of your heart and breast,

                                    The blood of your heart and breast,

                                    Is in the folds of your tartan.

Maclean recorded over seventy individual items from his uncle’s repertoire, mainly songs but also a few short anecdotes. Of his fieldwork in Raasay, Maclean wrote to his brother, Sorley MacLean (1911–1996), the foremost Gaelic poet of his generation as well as being a tradition bearer in his own right:

But I enjoy my work very much. The folklore business became more interesting according [to] how you master the proper system of approach. Raasay is a wonderful type of place to work. It is small and sea-contained. It has fishermen and crofters, land and sea, birds, fish and animals, old ruins, groves, buailes, ghosts, fairies oral tradition, local history and everything that comes within our scope. It would take a good collector three years to cover it all...

It is something of a pity that Maclean could only spare a short period of time to collect the traditions of his native Raasay. Nevertheless, the riches that he uncovered from his uncle’s singing were to form the core of one of his papers, later published in The Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness. Having proved the point that there was more than enough to collect; Maclean’s next move was to take him to Barra where a new vista of collecting was to occupy him for the next five months or so.

After concluding his successful fieldwork trip to his native Raasay, Maclean wrote in his diary:

I have now finished my first collection of Scots-Gaelic lore. There are many other songs still to be recorded. All of those which I have written down have associated airs, save one, and all of the tunes are different from one another. It is a great ‘sin’ that I was not born thirty years earlier, as the best of the lore has gone into the grave with those who had it. There is a terrible gale blowing here today.

References:

Calum I. Maclean, ‘Traditional Songs from Raasay and their value as Folk-Literature’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, vol. XXXIX/XL (1942–1950), pp. 176–92

Some examples, but by no means all, of Angus Nicolson’s singing may be heard on Tobar an Dualchais/Kist o Riches website [http://www.tobarandualchais.co.uk]

Image:

Angus Nicolson c. 1950, courtesy of Cailean Maclean

An Irish Perspective on the Highlands

On the appearance of Calum Maclean’s only book printed in the spring of 1959, The Irish Times may have been one of the very first papers to have reviewed it. The book had been delayed for quite a while because of Maclean’s illness and it would have delighted him when he read that reviews of his book were so positive and that they all highly recommended this book which had been more than six years in the making:

His heart’s in the Highlands

 

Calum I. Maclean, a Gaelic speaker from the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, made many friends during the years he spent in this country, studying and collecting folklore.

            They will be foremost among those who welcome his book *“The Highlands,” in which he has done for his own beloved land what, in some ways, Robin Flower and Synge did for parts of the West and South-West of this country.

            This is the book of a scholar and scientist trained in comparative folk-culture. It is also the book of a poet for whom the song, the legend, the tale of old times have their own colour and value and full-blooded life, not just their reference numbers and their exact places in filing cabinet or pigeon-hole.

            It is the book of a Highlander, with not sentiment or cant about him, who genuinely loves his own land and is never far removed from the melancholy fact that old ways have suffered, that the great glens are too empty and the people too few.

            Since the book is splendidly illustrated, the study of the text with an eye on the pictures, means that you have ─ almost been to the Highlands.

            The slightly sardonic “almost” is never far absent from Calum Maclean’s approach to the subject for he is very sensitive towards anything that might possibly be described as a stage-Scot or stage-Hielander.

            A couple of miles west from Callander he enters through the Pass of Leny, goes along the shore of lovely Loch Lubnaig and reflects on the beauty of bonnie Strathyre, and reflects also: “Most Scots, even if they have never seen the strath, have heard about its beauty because of the popular song ‘Bonny Strathyre.’”

            There is, perhaps, a gentle reproach implied just as there may be too a gentle reproach when he comes to the churchyard of Balquidder where Rob Roby MacGregor lies buried.

            “Gaelic,” he writes, “is still spoken in the Braes of Balquidder and this must be about the most southerly outpost of the language now. There is a profusion of beautiful placenames around Loch Vaoil and even in their Angicized form they sound well: Lochlarig, Ardcarnaig, Monachylemore, Craigruie, Murlagan, Strenvar, Achleskine, and Stronslaney. I am sure that only very few people in Balquidder now know what all these names mean. No doubt Rob Roy knew the meaning of them all.”

With learning, love and great beauty, this book reveals the Highlands. Naturally, it is meant, first before all, for Scotsmen. Secondly, it is meant for Irishmen, because of our links with Gaelic Scotland and because of many common problems.

After that it’s for everybody─who wants to know about one of the most impressive areas in these islands.

It’s a treasure of a book: to read, and re-read to look at with delight.

                                                                                                T. J.

*The Highlands: by Calum I. Maclean, (Batsford: 25/-)

References:
TJ, ‘His heart’s in the Highlands’, The Irish Times (25 April 1959), p. 5.

Image:
Cover of the first edition of The Highlands (London: Batsford, 1959), showing Glencoe, Argyllshire. The photograph was taken by Noel Habgood.

St Columba and Doran

Aristocrat, poet, miracle-worker, diplomat, politician but most of all Irish-born Columba (who died on the 9th of June 597) is remembered as the saint who founded the Abbey of Iona and who along with his twelve companions spread the message of Christianity throughout the Highlands and Islands. To celebrate the anniversary one of the most renowned Celtic saints, here is a short anecdote recorded on the 8th of January 1951 by Calum Maclean from the recitation of John MacDonald of Highbridge, Brae Lochaber, about St Columba and his brother Doran:

 

Bha bràthair aig Calum Cille ris an abradh iad Dòran. ’S e Dòran a bh’ aca air. Agus ma bha Calum Cille na dhuine math, bha Dòran an rathad eile. Bhiodh e a’ fiachann ri feadhainn a mhealladh agus innseadh dhaibh agus ga chur an aghaidh Calum. Ach cha robh sin gu diubhar. ’S ann a’ leanachd Calum Cille a bha a h-uile duine. Agus bha an chùis glè mhath gus an robh iad ga thìodhlacadh, a’ tìodhlacadh Dòran. Agus ’s ann an sin a dh’aithnich iad dè ’n duine a bh’ ann. Bha iad ga chur a sìos fon talamh agus thàinig glaodhadh a-mach às an uaigh agus thuirt e:

“Na bi sibh-se a’ creidsinn na chluinneas sibh. Chan eil Irinn na àite idir cho dona. ’S e th’ ann àite math.”

“Ma-tà,” thuirt Calum Cille is e na sheasamh air taobh na h-uaigh, “cuiribh ùir air sùil Dòran mun labhair e tuillidh còmhradh.”

 

And the translation goes something like this:

 

Columba had a brother called Doran; that’s the name they had for him. And if Columba was a good man then Doran was the complete opposite. He would try to deceive others by telling lies and turning them against St Columba. But that didn’t really matter as everyone followed St Columba. Everything was well until they buried Dòran and it was then that they knew what kind of a man he was. They were lowering him into the ground when a cry came out of the grave and he said:

“Don’t believe what you hear as hell is not a bad place at all. In fact it’s a good place.”

“Well,” said St Columba who was standing by the grave, “then put soil over Dòran’s eyes before he speaks anymore.” 

 

A different and a fuller version of this tale was collected by Fr Allan McDonald (1859–1905), styled Maighstir Ailein, a fellow Lochaber man, when he was a resident priest in Eriskay. In this particular version Doran’s motivation is completely different for he volunteered to be buried alive so the Iona could be saved. It was the ultimate sacrifice that he was willing to make for the sake of his brother, Columba:

 

Bha Dobhran bochd a bhrathair ann an iomall an t-sluaigh. Thain’ e nall agus sheas e air culaibh Chaluim-chille a bhrathair agus thuirt e gun robh esan uile dheonach a bhi air a thiodhlacadh uile bheo fo’n talamh air chumhnanta gu’n gabhadh an I togail do Chaluim-chille a bhrathair naomh, agus e toirt creideas do Chaluim-chille gu’m biodh anam sabhailte le ordadh Dhia.

Arsa Calum-cille, ’ged nach ’eil brathair agam ach Dobhran bochd tha mi toilichte gur e a dheonaich a dhol dha’n t-sloc.’ Agus nach motha na sin a chite a bhiast a tighinn thun a chladaich gu brath.

Rinneadh an sloc seachd airdead duine. Nuair a chunnaic Dobhran an t-sloc thionndaidh e ri Calum-cille, ’s dh’iarr e mar fhabhar ceann a chuir air an t-sloc agus esan fhagail na sheasamh cho fada ’s a thogradh Dia fhagail beo.

Fhuair e iarrtas, a chuir sios beo dha’n t-sloc. Dh’fhagadh an so e.

Thainig Calum-cille is thoisich e air an I ’s bha e fichead la ag obair ’s bha an I a dol air aghaidh uamhasach. Bha e toilichte an ghnothach a bhi dol leis.

Ann an ceann an fhichead latha ’nuair a bha h-uile ni air thuairim a bhi dol air aghart gu math, thuirt e gu’m bu choir sealltain de chrioch a chaidh air Dobhran bochd, agus an sloc fhosgladh.

Bha Dobhran a coiseachd air urlar an t-sluic. ’Nuair a chunnaic Dobhran gu’n do dh’fhosgladh an t-sloc ’s a mhuthaich e ’n saoghal gu leir mu choinneamh thug e cruinn leum as gu bial an t-sluic ’s chuir e dha bhois air bial an t-sluic gu h-ard. Chroch e e-fhein ris an t-sloc. Bha lianadh mhor reidh suas ’o ’n I agus moran luachrach oirre. Na chunnaic Dobhran dhe’n luachar dh’fhas e ruadh agus tha am barr beag ruadh sin air an luachar riamh.

Dh’eubh Calum-cille ’s e thall–‘Uir, uir, air suil Dhobhran mu’n faic e’n corr dhe’n t-saoghal ’s dhe ’n pheacadh.’ Chuir iad an uir air agus thill iad a dh’ionnsaidh an cuid obrach. ’S cha deachaidh car an aghaidh Calum-cille tuilleadh gus an d’fhuair e crioch air I.

 

And the translation goes something like this:

 

Doran his poor brother was at the outskirts of the assembly. He came over and stood at the back of Columba, his brother, and he stated that he was more than willing to be buried alive so that Iona could be built for his holy brother Columba, and he gave belief to Columba that his soul was safe by God’s will.

Columba said, ‘I although I have only one brother in poor Doran I am pleased that he is willing to go into the pit.’ And even better than that the beast will never be seen again coming ashore.

The pit was dug down seven times the height of a man. When Doran saw the pit he turned towards Columba and asked him a favour: for the pit to be covered over and to be left standing as long as God was willing to keep him alive.

He received his wish – to be put alive into the pit. He was left like that.

Columba went over and he began work on Iona. He spent a score of days working and Iona was making good progress. He was pleased that things were working out so well.

At the end of the twentieth day was everything was more or less going well, he said that he should go over and see what had happened to poor Doran and so opened up the pit.

Doran was pacing up and down on the pit bottom. When Doran saw that the pit has opened he noticed the whole wide world was in view and he leaped up to the pit mouth and he put both his hands on the pit opening. He hung there in the pit. There was a large, smooth green up from Iona which contained plenty of rushes. That which Doran saw of these rushes turned red and from then on they still have small patches of red on their tops.

Columba shouted over by – ‘Soil, soil, on Doran’s eyes before he sees the rest of the world and it sins.’ They placed soil over him and they then returned to their work. Nothing ever went against Columba until Iona was completed.

 

References:

Fr. Allan McDonald (of Eriskay), ‘Calum-Cille agus Dobhran a Bhrathair’, The Celtic Review, vol. V (1908–09), pp. 107–09

SSS, NB 7, pp. 616–17

 

Image:
St Columba / Calum Cille / Colmcille potrayed as an Apostle to the Picts at King Bridei’s Fort

 

A Folklorist’s Aunt: Peggy MacLean of Raasay

By sending Calum Maclean back home in order to collect traditions in his native Raasay may have been one of the best decisions ever made by the Irish Folklore Commission based in Dublin. The Commission, established in 1935 by Professor James Hamilton Delargy (1899–1980), was charged with a broad remit of collecting Ireland’s intangible cultural heritage. Between Maclean began working as a part-time collector in 1942, mainly in the Irish-speaking part of Connemara, and eventually becoming a full-time member of staff in 1945, the remit had broadened to take in Gaelic-speaking Scotland as well. Although Delargy’s decision to send his only Scottish collector back home went somewhat against Maclean’s wishes, he knew full-well the importance of the role that had been bestowed upon him, for he wrote:

 

 

…that the time is ripe to begin the systematic collection of Scottish and Gaelic folklore under the aegis of the Irish Folklore Commission. I have no doubt that the help of so many people in Scotland will be forthcoming. Naturally a Scottish Folklore Institute would be the ideal aim, but, at the present juncture, Scottish Gaels would welcome the support of the Irish Folklore Commission.  

 

Maclean undertook this pilot project from his home base in Churchton, Raasay, from the end of December until the 18 of February 1946. Such was the success of this trial run that Maclean would thenceforth take up permanent residence in Scotland and while still an employee of the Commission would, over next five years, collect a great deal of traditions mainly in the predominantly Catholic and Gaelic-speaking Southern Hebrides.

 

Maclean’s own family were renowned tradition bearers, with talented singers, pipers and storytellers. Not to have begun at home would have been deemed rather churlish and thus he did not have to look far in order to garner materials.  And so, for the next two months, Maclean amassed a great deal of lore from his own relations such as his mother, Christina, father, Malcolm and brother, Sorley. The lion’s share of material, however, was recorded from his maternal uncle, Angus Nicolson, styled Aonghas Shomhairle Iain ’ic Shomhairle (1890–1965) and, his paternal aunt, Peggy MacLean, styled Peigi Chaluim Iain Ghairbh (1869–1950). Maclean’s Raasay collection was mainly songs along with associated stories about their provenance and background. In his memoir of Maclean, Hamish Henderson noted that: “His uncle Angus Nicolson was a fine singer with a wide repertoire, and both his father and aunt Peggy Maclean were singers too, so Calum’s interest in Gaelic traditional song was no doubt kindled in his earliest childhood.”

 

In 1946 Peggy Maclean was aged around seventy-seven and was born in Baile Chùirn, Raasay, in 1869, the eldest sister of Malcolm MacLean, styled Calum Iain Gairbh, a crofter-fisherman. After attending school in nearby Churchton, Peggy then found work on the farm there. Wishing to expand her horizons further, she then entered the catering trade at a fairly young age and travelled to many parts of the world. Such places included stints in Scotland, Ireland, England as well as America. No matter how far her work took her she would invariably return home to Raasay for her annual fortnight’s holiday. She served as an army cook from 1914 to 1921 and, as she told her nephew, that although she may not have carried a gun she thought she might have killed a few people. Her nephew would no doubt have enjoyed this kind of self-deprecating humour. Peggy remained unmarried and probably retired home to Raasay in the mid-1930s.

 

Maclean in an article published in the scholarly Irish periodical Béaloideas, dedicated to oral tradition, recollected his aunt in the following terms:

 

Most of my work during a month in Raasay was done with Peggy MacLean. Miss MacLean had been a cook, most of her life and had travelled a good deal. She is now close on eighty years of age, and her memory is rapidly failing. She had several stories, although it is unusual for a woman to have lore of this type. There had been storytellers on the island in her youth, but now story-telling had ceased to be a part of the life of the community. 

 

The sources of her singing repertoire stemmed from her aunt Isobel, who stayed in Baile Chùirn and who died in 1918, and from her mother, Mary, who died in 1923 at the age of 86. Peggy learned all her stories from latter named apart from one:

 

Her people had had songs in plenty and she remembered them. As a young woman she had gone to the luaidh (meetings of women-folk for the purpose of waulking or fulling cloth). At these she learned many songs composed mostly by women for men, men with flowing yellow hair, hunters of the hill and sailors of the green ocean waters. Last summer her voice was beginning to fail, and it was almost impossible to have the melodies recorded. She did give more than four score songs, and some had beautiful melodies.

 

Maclean noted that Peggy’s memory was perhaps not as good as it used to be and that her increasing frailty and work-related back problems did not help matters either. But despite such concerns, Maclean still managed to record around one hundred and twenty-three individual items from his aunt’s recitation, more than thirty stories including a few international tales, some ninety songs, including some thirty waulking-type songs and forty short pieces of puirt-à-beul or mouth-music.

 

Sorley MacLean recalled that Peggy used to delight in fishing and, as a young man, he would take his aunt out in the boat and while he rowed he was regaled by her singing. It also would have had the desired effect of lightening the physical task of propelling the boat through the sea. Calum later wrote to Sorley in a letter of 1946 of his folklore collecting in Raasay:

 

But I enjoy my work very much. The folklore business became more interesting according [to] how you master the proper system of approach. Raasay is a wonderful type of place to work. It is small and sea-contained. It has fishermen and crofters, land and sea, birds, fish and animals, old ruins, groves, buailes, ghosts, fairies oral tradition, local history and everything that comes within our scope. It would take a good collector three years to cover it all...

 

It is something of a pity that Maclean could only spare a short period of time to collect the traditions of his native Raasay. Having proved the point that there was more than enough to collect, Maclean’s next move was to take him to the isle of Barra where a new vista of collecting was to occupy him for the next five months or so.

 

If it were not for Maclean’s efforts to collect in Raasay as well as elsewhere then our understanding of oral tradition in the mid-twentieth century would be far poorer. After concluding his successful fieldwork trip to his native Raasay, Maclean wrote in his diary:

 

I have now finished my first collection of Scots-Gaelic lore. There are many other songs still to be recorded. All of those which I have written down have associated airs, save one, and all of the tunes are different from one another. It is a great ‘sin’ that I was not born thirty years earlier, as the best of the lore has gone into the grave with those who had it. There is a terrible gale blowing here today.

 

Reference:

MacGilleathain, Calum I., ‘Sgéalta as Albain’, Béaloideas: The Journal of the Folklore of Ireland Society, vol. XV (1945), pp. 237–48

 

Image:

Photograph of family portrait, Malcolm and Peggy, along with a young Calum. c. 1920. Courtesy of Cailean Maclean

A Report from Raasay

After having spent seven years in ‘exile’ in Ireland, Calum Maclean returned to his native isle of Raasay to undertake a pilot project of collecting oral materials mainly from his own relations. Maclean was fully conscious of the task that lay before him and applied himself to his work with gusto. An entry from a diary, which he wrote in Scottish Gaelic, gives an insight into his work as an ethnographer at this time: 

Thòisich mise, Calum I. Mac Gille Eathain, a’ cruinneachadh beul-airthris agus litreachas beóil ann an eilean Ratharsair am paraiste Phort-righeadh anns an Eilean Sgitheanach air an 19mh lá de ’n Dùdhlachd (Nodhlaig) 1945. Rugadh mi agus chaidh mo thogail anns an eilean seo. An uair a bha mise òg bha tòrr dhaoine anns an eilean seo aig a robh sgeulachdan agus seann-òrain nach deachaidh a sgrìobhadh sios riamh is nach téid a sgrìobhadh sios gu bràth. Tha an t-seann-fheadhainn an nis marbh agus thug iad gach rud a bha aca leotha do’n uaigh. Có dhiubh tha cuid de dhaoine ann fhathast a chuimhneachas bloighean de na h-òrain a bhiodh aca agus bloighean de’n t-seanchas eile cuideachd. Shaoil mi gun robh barrachd òran air am fàgail anns an eilean seo na bha de aon rud eile. Uime sin chuir mi romham na h-òrain a sgrìobhadh sios uile mar a chuala mi aig na daoine iad. Ach sgrìobh mi sios cuideachd gach rud a thachair rium. Tha fhios agam gum bheil sinn tri fichead bliadhna ro anamoch gu tòiseachadh air an obair seo, ach dh’fhaoite gu sàbhail sinn rud air chor eigin fhathast, mun téid e uile a dhìth...

I, Calum I. Maclean, began two days ago to collect the oral tradition of the island of Raasay. I was born and reared on this island. When I was young there were many people here who had tales and songs which had never been written down, and which never will be, since the old people are now dead, and all that they knew is with them in the grave. There are still some people alive who remember some of the songs and traditions of their forefathers, and as it seemed to me that there are more songs than anything else available, I decided to write down those which I could find. I realize that we are sixty years late in beginning this work of collection, but we may be able to save at least some of the traditional lore before it dies out…
 

Maclean later wrote to his brother, Sorley, reflected upon his experience of collecting in Raasay:

But I enjoy my work very much. The folklore business became more interesting according [to] how you master the proper system of approach. Raasay is a wonderful type of place to work. It is small and sea-contained. It has fishermen and crofters, land and sea, birds, fish and animals, old ruins, groves, buailes, ghosts, fairies oral tradition, local history and everything that comes within our scope. It would take a good collector three years to cover it all.
 

After Maclean’s successful sortie in collecting traditions in his native Raasay, the Director of the Irish Folklore Commission, James Hamilton Delargy, took the decision, in 1946, to send Maclean back to his native homeland so that he could continue to collect the fast-dying Gaelic traditions of the Hebrides and the mainland Highlands on a full-time basis. Thenceforth Maclean would take up permanent residence in Scotland. By February 1946, Maclean had amassed a great deal of lore from his own relations, mainly from his maternal uncle, Angus Nicolson (1890–1965), styled Aonghas Shomhairle Iain ’ic Shomhairle  and, his paternal aunt, Peggy MacLean (1869–1950), styled Peigi Chaluim Iain Ghairbh. Maclean’s Raasay collection was mainly songs along with associated stories about their provenance and background (NFC MS 1026–1027). Based up this collecting trip, Maclean would later make a contribution to the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness. It is noteworthy that Maclean collected these rather than long romantic tales that were more or less no longer available. Maclean noted—perhaps due to the zeal of the convert—that the reason for this was that a strong Calvinistic streak pervaded the island at the time. Indeed, Maclean only encountered ‘living’ storytellers of the old school in the Southern Hebrides whose repertoires were representative of those collected by John Francis Campbell and his various collectors around a century before. Maclean noted in his diary, January 24, 1945, writing in Irish Gaelic, after his first fieldwork foray in his native island:

Táim anois a’ cur deire leis an gcéad leabhar a bhailigheas de bhéaloideas na h-Alban. Tá ana-chuid amhrán ins an leabhar seo ata críochnaí anois agam … Tá a thuille amhrán aca fós. Tá ceól ag dul le gach aon dán amháin. Nì h-é an ceól céadna atá le aon dá amhrán dá bhfhuil agam ins an leabhar seo. Is mór go deó an peacadh nár rugadh mé deith mbliadhna fichead níos túisce, ach deabhal neart air anois. Tá na daoine a raibh an t-adhbhar a b’ fhearr aca básuighthe uile anois … Tá gala uabhthasach annseo indiu. 

 

I have now finished my first collection of Scottish Gaelic lore. There are many songs in this book which I have now transcribed but there are many others songs still to be recorded. All of those which I have written down have associated airs, save one, and all of the tunes are different from one another … It is a great ‘sin’ that I was not born thirty years earlier, as the best of the lore has gone into the grave with those that had it … There is a terrible gale blowing here today.

 

At the conclusion of this fieldwork trip, Maclean wrote a three-page report for Delargy, his boss back at 82 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin where the headquarters of the Irish Folklore Commission had been established until the archive was moved to its present locality at University College Dublin in 1971:

 

REPORT ON VISIT TO SCOTLAND.

Dec. 7th 1945 – Feb. 17th 1946

 

I proceeded to Scotland on 7th Dec. 1945 with the express intention of enquiry into the possibilities of initiating the systematic collection of oral tradition in Scotland and, in particular, in the Gaelic-speaking western seaboard and islands. In Glasgow I met Mr. Alex Nicolson, M.A., Lecturer in Celtic at the University of Glasgow. I stated that the Irish Folklore Commission was prepared to initiate and to finance the collection of oral tradition in the Highlands and Western Isles and, in doing so, desired the co-operation of Scots pending the emergence in Scotland of a body competent to collect, record and catalogue oral tradition. Mr. Nicolson gave his assurance that this project would have his immediate support. We however maintained that it was almost too late to save much of value now, as the raconteurs and custodians of oral tradition had, to a large extent, gone.

 

I then proceeded to Inverness, where I interviewed Dr. D. J. Macleod, D.Litt., O.B.E. Dr. Macleod expressed complete approval for the Commission’s project and promised all moral and material support.

 

I also interviewed Mr. Hugh MacPhee, Director of Gaelic Programmes of the British Broadcasting Corporation. Mr. MacPhee considered that the offer of the Irish Folklore Commission was very generous indeed and would meet with all sympathy in Scotland. Mr. MacPhee made the suggestion that the Director of the Irish Folklore Commission should visit Scotland and address a meeting representative of people interested in folklore there. Mr. MacPhee maintained that finance was the main obstacle that confronted the collection of oral tradition in Scotland at present.

 

I subsequently met Rev. T. M. Murchison, M.A., a member of the Executive Council of An Cumunn Gàidhealach. He considered co-operation with the Irish Folklore Commission highly desirable. The Commission could advise and direct the collection of oral tradition in Scotland. He favoured the suggestion that the Director of the Commission should, in the near future, address a representative meeting of Scots interested in folklore.

 

I also interviewed Rev. M. Maclean, M.A., a noted writer and figure in the Gaelic movement. He considered that the Irish Folklore Commission should make it its business to collect the oral traditions of Gaelic Scotland. For the study of folklore Ireland and Gaelic Scotland would have to be treated as one. The Irish Folklore Commission was the only body competent to deal with Scottish oral traditions. He advised the Commission to proceed with the collection of folklore in Scotland as soon as possible and stated that the Commission would have his whole-hearted support, both moral and material. He advised the Commission to enlist the help of private individuals in Scotland rather than that of Gaelic societies.

 

I also interviewed Dr. John Cameron, Ph.D., of Glasgow. He was interested in the Commission’s project and wished it all success.

 

I spoke to various people in different walks of life in Scotland and have found among them genuine interest in the recording of the traditions of the people.

 

Many people in Scotland expressed admiration of the work done by the Irish Folklore Commission and commended the Irish Government for financing and encouraging that work.

 

I consider that the time is now ripe to begin the systematic collection of Scottish and Gaelic folklore under the aegis of the Irish Folklore Commission. I have no doubt that the help of many people in Scotland will be forthcoming. Naturally a Scottish Folklore Institute would be the ideal aim, but at the present juncture, Scottish Gaels would welcome the support of the Irish Folklore Commission.

 

As to existing oral traditions in Scotland, I spent seven weeks in the island of Raasay. It is a typical Gaelic-speaking island. The people there are mainly small-holders and fishermen. Their religious persuasion is Calvinistic. There I found that much oral tradition remains among the people. From one person alone I wrote the words of forty folk-songs, most of which have never appeared in print. All these songs had their distinct melodies and have still. From that person I noted down several fairy stories and stories of historical and local interest and many items of popular belief and practice. People here have remembered their songs better than anything else. From another person I wrote down several tales of the international folktale type and all the versions were good. From that same person I wrote down thirty folk-songs and was assured that I could get a hundred more, and may more stories as well. Other people gave me much valuable material and all seemed willing to give it readily. Little or no collection had ever been done in that district.

In Scotland there is an immense field to be covered and much more than I, at least, ever expected to be collected and committed to writing or recorded by the latest scientific devices.

                                       Colm Mac Gille Eathain

                                                                        27/2/46

 

On the basis of Maclean’s report, Delargy would later write on the 30th of May 1946 to the Secretary of the Department of Education in the following terms:

 

A most favourable opportunity exists for the extension of the work of collection to Scotland. Colm MacGilleathain, who has been trained in our cataloguing methods during the last fifteen months, is ready to go to Scotland and begin the work of collection in the Western Islands. During his holidays at Christmas he discussed the collection of Scottish-Gaelic folklore by our Commission with several influential Scots who welcomed the project as there is no hope that such work will be undertaken by a Scottish institution. He is confident that he will be able to enlist the help of several young Scots from various parts of the Highlands and Islands on a part-time basis. I need hardly say that the undertaking of collection in Scotland, besides being a necessary complement to collection in Ireland and a most valuable addition to international scholarship, will redound to the credit of the Irish Government.

 

References:

NAI, ED/25/15
NFC MS 1026: 1a; 95–96
NLS MS.29536: 25

Image:

James Hamilton Delargy [Séamus Ó Duilearga], c. 1965, at the entrance to the Irish Folklore Commission’s headquarters at St Stephen’s Green, Dublin. Courtesy of Cnuasach Bhéaloideas Éireann, Coláiste Ollscoile Baile Átha Cliath / National Folklore Collection, University College Dublin

Werner Kissling and Calum Maclean

Of the many amateur photographers who has ever set foot in the Hebrides, Werner Kissling (or Kißling) (1895–1988) must represent one of the most skilful portraitists. His prolific photographic legacy is immensely important and rich. Kissling’s major strength lies in his ability to simply look and record. As a detached – though never uninterested – observer, a compositional style clearly stands out for Kissling lets his subjects, and even interiors and exterior landscapes speak for themselves.
 

Born near Born near Breslau in Silesia, formerly a part of the German Empire but now in Poland, into a wealthy, aristocratic brewing family, Kissling came to Britain in 1931. He served both in the army and the navy during the Great War, becoming a diplomat for the new Weimar Republic in 1919. The rise of the Nazi movement influenced his decision to resign from the German diplomatic service in 1931 to become a scholar and photographer. Developing links with Cambridge University, his privately funded study of ethnology enabled him to visit the Western Isles many times between the 1930s and the 1960s where the Hebridean blackhouse was of particular interest.
 

Dr Werner Freidrich Theodor Kissling first came to the Western Isles around 1934 and spent the summer of that year in Eriskay. As well as making a photographic record of the islanders’ traditional way of life, he also recorded film footage, subsequently cut into a documentary entitled Eriskay: A Poem of Remote Lives, for which he probably remains best remembered for.
 
During his time in Eriskay, Kissling spent part of time on a yacht called the Elspeth, leased from Greenock, and in a house rented from a local man called Ronald MacInnes. It is likely that he came to Eriskay in June of that year and did not leave until September. Until the outbreak of the Second World War, Kissling would return annually to Eriskay to stay in a house owned by a Mrs Johnston, but more so in Lochboisdale Hotel, South Uist, where he would always stay in the same room. When not in the Western Isles, Kissling would spend most of time in either London or Cambridge, where he would continue to study and socialise as was his wont.
 

Some fifteen years later, whilst Calum Maclean was resident in Benbecula and collecting a great deal of oral traditions there and in nearby South Uist, Kissling’s path naturally crossed at times with Maclean. Here for example is one of Maclean’s diary entries written in Scottish Gaelic but given here in translation:

 

Tuesday, 26 July 1949

Today I went over to Carnan as I had to meet Dr Kissling as we are going to look at an old blackhouse down at Ardamhachaire. There aren’t many left in Uist today. Duncan MacDonald came with us for he knows the folk in this house. It was a truly beautiful day by the time we got down. The folk of the house recognised Duncan for he had been working as a stonemason in this place a few years ago. Donald MacEachern, an old man, stayed in the house along with his two sisters. One of the sisters was ill and had taken to bed. It was a large blackhouse. It has been built twenty-seven years before. The hearth was in the middle of the floor and the chimney above. In the living room was a bench, dresser, chest and a table. There were another three rooms in the house. I measured the furniture in that room but I couldn’t measure the others for there was an old woman who was ill in the house. The folk of the house had built a new house that they were going move into soon. I thought that it was best for them to leave the blackhouse so they could go to the other house. The old man, Donald MacEachern, showed me work implements and I measured them. Dr Kissling was down about the shore so I didn’t see much of him at all. It was about seven o’clock in the evening when we left Big Donald’s house. The three of us went up to Creagorry and we had a drink there. Derick Thomson and I are going to see Duncan tomorrow. It was about nine o’clock in the evening by the time I got home and I was quite tired.

 

Again two years later when on his first fieldwork trip to Lochaber for the newly-established School of Scottish Studies, Maclean met Kissling. The diary entry is here given in translation:

 

Wednesday, 31 January 1951

I began transcribing this morning and worked on the material that I recorded from John MacDonald. Around midday, Dr Kissling came up to see me and he was here until around four o’clock this afternoon. After he left I resumed transcribing again until around seven o’clock this evening. I went up to Achluachrach to Archibald MacInness’s house. Archibald waited for me and he had recalled a few stories from the previous time I was here. I took down these stories as well as a few others I had heard the time I was here last.  Without a shadow of a doubt, he had a great store of knowledge that is worth taking down. He is a kind, fine fellow and his family is nice as well. Ewen MacIntosh was also here but I didn’t take anything down from him tonight. He has songs as well as stories. It was around ten o’clock at night when I left Achluachrach.

 

Between 1952 and 1961, Kissling worked on a part-time basis at the University of Edinburgh’s School of Scottish Studies as a writer and photographer. During these years he contributed many thousands of photographs, mostly of ethnographic interest such as those featuring crafts and traditional ways of life. He also collected material culture and artefacts for Dumfries Association of which he was made an Honorary Assistant from 1969 until the year of his death. Kissling also made many contributions to a range of journals, but his most important and celebrated scholarly work was a study of the Hebridean blackhouse, published during the Second World War.

 

References:

NFC 1301: 12–14

NLS MS.29795, 1^r–162^v

Michael Russell, A Poem of Remote Lives: Images of Eriskay, 1934: The Enigma of Werner Kissling 1895–1988 (Glasgow: Neil Wilson, 1997) and A Different Country: The Photographs of Werner Kissling (Edinburgh: Birlinn, 2002)

Kissling’s film Eriskay: A Poem of Remote Lives may be viewed here: http://ssa.nls.uk/film.cfm?fid=1701

References:
Dr Werner Kissling, Dumfries, c. 1985. Courtesy of Drumfries Museum