Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis 15 Giblean 2023

Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis 15 Giblean 2023

 

Madainn mhath, a chàirdean, agus fàilte oirbh.

Tha sinn a’ cruinneachadh air an làraich eachdraidheil seo gus comharrachadh agus cuimhneachadh orrasan a chaill am beatha air latha fliuch, fuar earraich air an t-siathamh latha deug den Ghiblean, seachd ceud deug, dà fhichead ’s a sia, air Mòinteach Dhruim Athasaidh. Tha sinn, cuideachd, a’ cuimhneachadh orrasan a mharbhadh anns na h-uairean is làithean an dèidh a’ bhlàir. Blàr Chùil Lodair. Blàr nach do mhair ach uair a thìde ach a dh’fhàg seula mhaireannach air aignidhean agus ann an cridheachan Ghàidheil agus Albannaich. Chan eil mòran fhaclan neo ainmean nar n-eachdraidh a tha a’ dùsgadh uimhir de dh’fhaireachdainnean unnainn ‘s a tha Cùil Lodair.

Tha Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis air a bhith a’ cumail seirbheis cuimhneachaidh aig a’ chàrn seo bho naoi ceud deug còig thar fhichead -  faisg air ceud bliadhna - agus tha e na urram mòr dhomh-sa a bhith a seo an-diugh mar Cheannard Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis airson na bliadhna-sa. Bu mhath leam taing a thoirt dhan Chomunn airson a’ chuiridh, agus taing air leth a thoirt do dh’ Ailean Caimbeul, a th’ air a bhith na Cheannard air a’ bhliadhna a dh’ fhalbh, agus a th’ air a bhith na thosgaire ionmholta airson na Gàidhlig, fad is farsaing, is thar bhliachnaichean, airson a stiùir is earail dhomh mun dreuchd.

Friends, on behalf of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, I welcome you all to the Society’s Annual Remembrance Service, which has been held here since 1925 - almost 100 years - for both Jacobite troops and Government troops who died on this battlefield 277 years ago, on the 16th day of April, 1746. We commemorate, also, those who lost their lives or suffered greatly in the days, weeks and months after the Battle of Culloden. Overall, in battle and beyond, some 3000 died -  the majority of them were Jacobites.

For many of us no place-name in our history stirs the emotions more than does Culloden. Some facts about the battle are indisputable - it was the last pitched battle fought on British soil, it lasted less than an hour and it was the final defeat of the Jacobite cause. But what of the aftermath of the battle, and its significance in Scottish and British history?   Evaluations of its impact on us as a nation, a people, are not so easily agreed on. Historians and academics may differ in their views; historical sources, both written and oral, may be accepted or dismissed.

I am neither a historian nor an academic, nor can I claim that any of my family had a direct link to the battle. Though Lord George Murray was one of Prince Charles’s commanders -  they did not always see eye to eye - I cannot, in all truth, claim him as an ancestor.

I am a Gael, a Gaelic speaker, and I am greatly honoured to be here today as Chieftain of the Gaelic Society of Inverness for the coming year. The Society was established in 1871 for the purpose of cultivating the language, poetry and music of the Highlands and, generally, furthering the interests of the Gaelic-speaking people. My late father-in-law, Murdo Macleod, had a long association with the Society and it was with him and the family that I first attended the Culloden annual commemoration service many years ago. I was struck then by the diverse groups of people who were present at the service, honouring those who gave their lives for causes they believed in. The number of attendees and groups at the service has grown significantly since then. This site has become a place of pilgrimage for many of you, and I know that there are people here today from around the world. You are all most welcome.

Whilst the Gaelic Society honours those lost in the battle with the annual remembrance service, the National Trust for Scotland is the custodian of this historic site. It is the Trust that is responsible for the conservation of the battlefield. In front of us here is an area where over 1500 people lost their lives in 1746. They are buried in mass graves, some with headstones, added in 1881, as was the memorial cairn here. Among the names are clans MacGillivray, Mackintosh, Fraser, ‘Mixed Clans’. In recent years visitor numbers to the battlefield have greatly increased and measures have had to be taken to halt the deterioration of the ground around the stones. This was a battlefield and it is also a burial site. I ask everyone to treat the graves area, in particular, with the greatest respect as you move around the site.

In 2007 I was privileged, as a BBC Radio nan Gàidheal producer, and in collaboration with the National Trust, to produce many of the dramatised bilingual audio accounts that can be heard in the award winning Visitor Centre. A few weeks ago I visited the centre again to reaquaint myself with these recorded voices. As I listened I thought not just of the characters’ stories but of the writers who had brought these stories to life in both Gaelic and English - the late Seonaidh Alick MacPherson and the late Janet Paisley, both of whom I had the pleasure of working with on the Culloden project. It was a poignant reminder, as was hearing the voice of the late Simon MacKenzie, a much loved and respected actor, of their personal contributions to Gaelic and to Scots. Today, in addition to those lost on the battlefield and beyond, I would like to pay tribute to all those who have helped to ensure that the Culloden story is told in whatever form that may be.

Culloden remains different things to different people.

Och, a Theàrlaich òig Stiùbhart,

’s e do chùis rinn mo lèireadh;

O young Charles Stewart,

it is your cause which has left me wretched.

In her landmark book, Songs of Gaelic Scotland, the academic and singer, Dr Anne Lorne Gillies, describes the song, Mo Rùn Geal Òg / My Fair Young Love, from which these lines are taken, as “the abiding Gaelic memory of the Battle of Culloden: a woman is left behind, weeping for the husband she has lost and for the life she will now have to lead. Such women were to be found in every household in the Gaelic-speaking area of Scotland.”

In this case, the woman was Christina Ferguson of Contin, in Rosshire, just half an hour’s drive from here. She composed it for her husband, William Chisholm, who was the standard bearer to the Clan Chisholm at Culloden. He died defending his men in a barn, fighting off the Duke of Cumberland’s soldiers single-handedly with a sword.

Whenever I hear or read these opening lines I am immediately taken here to Culloden. Substitute ‘mo lèireadh’ with ‘ar lèireadh’ and I feel it could equally apply to our language and culture.  It is an interpretation that I lean towards, personally.

Och, a Theàrlaich òig Stiùbhart,

’s e do chùis rinn ar’ lèireadh;

After Culloden there was a marked change in the Highland way of life. Elements of

Highland culture were proscribed and the language was further suppressed. Gaelic went into a long-term decline hastened by what might be described today as institutional prejudice against the language - and that persisted well into the last century.

In the Western Isles this past week island communities have been commemorating the emigration, 100 years ago, of almost 600 islanders to Canada and the United States. On this day in 1923, the 15th of April, the SS Marloch sailed from Lochboisdale in South Uist with almost 300 islanders bound for Canada; a week later on the 21st of April, the SS Metagama left Stornoway in Lewis with over 300 islanders on board, also bound for Canada. The majority of those emigrants would have been Gaelic speakers; thus, mass emigration following on from the losses of the Great War, also contributed to language decline in the Western Isles which continued throughout the twentieth century.

Undoubtedly, there have been good news stories and there is much to be proud of over the last half-century: a National Centre for Gaelic and Culture in Skye, Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, which this year celebrates its 50th anniversary; Gaelic-medium education in rural areas and in Scotland’s major cities, progress that my two daughters have benefitted from, having done all of their schooling, from the age of 5 to 18, through the medium of Gaelic at the Glasgow Gaelic School; a Gaelic radio station in BBC Radio nan Gàidheal; the BBC and MG ALBA delivering a Gaelic television channel, BBC ALBA, and digital content to audiences across Scotland, the United Kingdom and beyond; The Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005, which aims to secure the status of Gaelic as an official language of Scotland commanding equal respect to the English language; Comunn na Gàidhlig and its youth initiatives; the Gaelic Books Council’s support of Gaelic writers and publishers; Fèisean nan Gàidheal’s musical and arts tuition for young people. And yet, and yet…we await the most recent Scotland Census figures from 2022 with a certain trepidation.

My own personal view is that if Gaelic is to survive and prosper, well into this century and beyond, inter-generational transmission of the language is key for growth and sustainability; in particular, in island communities where the language is still, but only just, a living, daily language. 

The late Murdo MacFarlane, the Melbost Bàrd from Lewis, whose works I have recently edited, was a champion of Gaelic. Although he was, at times, pessimistic about the survival of the language and spoke in pretty sobering terms of the grim prospect of its demise, he also took great pains always to encourage and exhort all of us who care about the language to be bold in our efforts to save it.

Ma tha èibhleag bheag bheò a’ Ghàidheil

Air fhàgail air cagailt do chridh’,

Neo sradag bheag bheò de dh’uaill

Ann an luach do chànain, rèist bi

‘G èirigh is às a leth buail,

Mun tèid i tur oirnn a dhìth.

If there is one small, burning ember of the Gael

Left on your heart’s hearth,

Or if you have even a small spark of pride

In the value of your language,

Then rise up and fight on its behalf,

Before it is fully lost to us.

I echo Murdo’s sentiment. On this solemn occasion, as we remember with respect the

fallen at Culloden, may we also reflect on the urgency that is required to advocate for the  survival of the Gaelic language.

Clann nan Gàidheal ri Guaillean a Chèile.

AM BLÀR MU DHEIREADH - CULLODEN 2023

AM BLÀR MU DHEIREADH

Le Maoilios Caimbeul, Bàrd a’ Chomuinn

Thig e

gun teagamh, am blàr mu dheireadh,

dhòmhsa agus dhutsa,

thèid na dùilean seachad

’s bidh na sùilean dùinte.

Thàinig e,

Cùil Lodair, am blàr mu dheireadh, air talamh Bhreatainn,

am measg bhlàran gun chrìch bho thoiseach eachdraidh

Thermopylae, Marathon, an Somme, El Alamein, Mariupol,

na h-òg-chraobhan uaine air an sgath sìos,

suarach an gnìomh a bhith marbhadh ar seòrsa,

ged a thig e mu dheireadh dhutsa agus dhòmhsa.

 

Thig e

gun teagamh, am blàr mu dheireadh,

’s bidh na gunnachan dìomhain

’s na sligean falamh

’s na h-urchairean sàmhach.

Nuair a shìolas a chòmhstri,

cha bhi na h-aibhnichean leònta,

cha bhi na h-achaidhean truaillte.

Thig i

gun teagamh, rìoghachd na sìthe,

am blàr mu dheireadh seachad

agus an rìgh air a’ chathair.

Sgapaidh deagh-ghean mar fhalaisgear

agus gràdh mar sholas neo-mhùchte;

Thig i

agus càirdeas mar chraoibh le geugan farsaing.

Bidh na blàran seachad

agus am bàs fhèin air fhuadach,

cha bhi pian ann nas mò

ann an rìoghachd an Uain.

 

THE LAST BATTLE

It will come

no doubt, the last battle,

for me, for you

the elements will pass

and the eyes will close.


It came,

Culloden, the last battle on British soil,

among endless battles from the beginning of history

Thermopylae, Marathon, the Somme, El Alamein, Mariupol,

the saplings cut down, the dear young men,

wretched the deed to kill our own kind,

although it will come in the end for you and for me.

 

It will come,

no doubt, the last battle,

and the guns will be idle

and the shells empty

and the gunshots silent.

When strife will subside,

the rivers won’t be harmed,

nor the fields polluted.

 

It will come,

no doubt, the kingdom of peace,

the last battle over

and the king on His throne.

Goodwill will spread like muirburn

and love like unhidden light.

 

It will come,

and friendship like a tree with branches spread.

The battles past

and death itself banished,

there will be no more pain

in the kingdom of the Lamb.

Culloden Anniversary Service 2022

Address by Allan Campbell – Chieftain Gaelic Society of Inverness 2022-23

 An dèidh cogaidh thig sìth!  Sin gnàth-fhacal a th’ againn sa Ghàidhlig nach robh idir fìor an dèidh a’ bhlàir dhuilich a chuireadh air an làrach seo air an t-siathamh latha deug den Ghiblean 1746, oir air òrdugh Dhiùc Chumberland chaidh saighdearan a shiubhal na Gàidhealtachd an dà chuid air tòir a’ Phrionnsa Theàrlaich, agus cuideachd gus dìoghaltas a thoirt air neach sam bith a bha a’ cur taice ris. 

Nuair a theich mo cheathramh sìn-seanair Iain “Dubh” Caimbeul às an seo air an latha sin ’s beag an dùil a bhiodh aige ’s e feuchainn ri a shlighe a dhèanamh dhachaigh gu ruige Gleann Dail san Eilean Sgitheanach, gum biodh na bheil an seo de shluagh cruinn 276 bliadhna air adhart ga chuimhneachadh fhèin, agus na chailleadh air gach taobh den bhlàr. Cha mhotha na sin a bhiodh fios aig Iain Dubh gus greis an dèidh sin gun robh Cumberland air binn bàis a chur air gach neach a sheas air taobh nan Stiùbhartach – binn a chaidh orra gun chothrom aig duine aca facal dìon a thagradh as an leth fhèin.

 Historical records tell us that it was bitterly cold here 276 years ago tomorrow when the traditional powers, and to an extent much of the cultural foundations of Scotland’s Clan system, were shattered in a short but bloody battle which had a long and equally bloody aftermath. Many believe that the Highlands and Western Islands are still suffering the impact of drastic and repressive British Government reaction to the battle of Culloden, not least through the generations of suppressive education policies, and general government neglect of Gaelic language and culture.

Intergenerational transmission of family history tells me that my four times great-grandfather John (Iain Dubh – black-haired John) Campbell was here, and somehow escaped with his life.  Sadly we don’t have any information on John’s physical condition as he fled this field, or how he made his way home to Glendale in Skye. That story will remain tantalisingly hidden from us for ever, but it is always tempting to imagine some of the challenges and dangers which post-battle fugitives like John might have faced on his journey. Today I can drive from here to Glendale in about 3 hours, but in April 1746 those 140 or so miles were a very long and hazardous journey, which, depending on the route taken, could have included at least three sea ferry crossings.

One wonders how soon John and his fellow survivors found out that the Duke of Cumberland had sentenced all the Jacobite supporters who had survived the battle to death – for the majority of those captured there would be no opportunity to speak in their own defence.  I wonder if John was travelling alone or whether some of his fellow Daileachs (as residents of Glendale are known in Gaelic) survived and were making the journey with him, but I do know that he made it home safely to the village of Fearann Mhic Guaire (MacQuarrie’s Land) now known in English as Ferriniquarrie, in Glendale.

Glendale was Macleod of Dunvegan territory in the west of Skye, but while the clan Chief didn’t rise to the Jacobite standard, apparently the then landlord of the Glendale Estate raised a detachment of his tenants to support the Prince. One of these was Iain Dubh Caimbeul – Black-haired John Campbell, my four times great grandfather.  It is irrelevant to wonder what John Campbell might have felt about the Stuart cause, he was ordered to war by his feudal superior and refusal was not an option. Such situations are equally common today – where so many are forced to combat in wars which they neither support nor desire.

According to our family tradition Culloden veteran Iain Dubh continued to live in Glendale for the rest of his life, but he was forced to spend extended periods hiding in caves on the moors to avoid capture by marauding groups of Hanoverian soldiers who were doggedly pursuing Culloden survivors. This was why my ancestor Iain Dubh became known as Iain Dubh nam Beann – Black John of the Hills.

The Acts of Proscription passed by the British government after Culloden were deliberately targeted to destroy ancient clan structures, with the carrying of any weapons forbidden; Highland dress outlawed; and playing of the bagpipes also banned.  Any defiance of these laws risked severe penalty, and possibly even exile. 

 How pleasing that so many of these so-called crimes are being legally celebrated  here today!

Suppressed people invariably suffer poverty but while their culture might also be targeted it can prove the most difficult possession for an oppressor to take from his victims, and the retention of culture sustains self-identity, self-esteem, and  hope.

Gaelic has survived despite concerted efforts through education and other policies over many years to eradicate it, but in the second half of the last century modest but very welcome official recognition of the importance of Gaelic language and its culture materialised, and that development process has continued.   I am proud to have been actively involved over the past forty five years with initiatives to revive interest in the language and its use. That challenging campaign for Gaelic continues, and while we appreciate cross-party political support and government funding initiatives, Gaelic needs much more support to enable it to grow naturally once more.

It is truly wonderful that there are now reported to be over 1 million active learners of Gaelic so if you are not yet a speaker you could set yourself a target of being able to use some Gaelic here at next year’s commemorative service!

The Gaelic Society of Inverness, of which I am honoured to be Chieftain for the coming twelve months, has a proud record of supporting the Gaelic language, its culture, and its people, for over 150 years, and since 1925 our Society has regularly commemorated the Battle of Culloden.

 Chan eil fios dè an t-slighe a ghabh Iain Dubh a’ tilleadh gu ruige a dhachaigh ann am baile Fhearann MhicGuaire ann an Gleann Dail san Eilean Sgitheanach – neo an robh duine eile cuide ris den fheachd bheag de mu cheud a dh’òrdaich uachdaran na h-Oighreachd èirigh a’ shabaid leis air taobh Theàrlaich. Cha robh MacLeòid Dhùn Bheagain ann, ach bha uachdaran Ghlinn Dail deònach taic a nochdadh agus cha robh roghainn aig luchd-còmhnaidh na h-oighreachd ach dèanamh mar a dh’iarradh e.

 Fhuair Iain Dubh Caimbeul dhachaigh,  agus ged a bhiodh e ’s cinnteach air-leth taingeil a bheatha a thoirt às a’ bhlàr a thachair an seo  cha robh a shaoghal ach gu math riaslach fad ùine mhòr as dèidh sin. Tha fios againn gun deach na saighdearan Hanobhairianach air feadh na Gàidhealtachd a lorg neach sam bith a chuir taic ris na Stiùbhartaich, agus le airgead brathaidh ga thairgsinn bha daonnan cunnart gun gèilleadh daoine bochda agus gum brathadh iad feadhainn a bha a’ falach.  Gu fàbharach cha do dh’èirich sin dha Iain Dubh, ach tha eachdraidh an teaghlaich ag innse gur e Iain Dubh nam Beann am far-ainm a bh’ air mu dheireadh leis gum b’ fheudar  dha uimhir a dh’ùine a chur seachad na fhògarrach a’ falach air na monaidhean, a seachnadh nan saighdearan.

 In 1883, roughly a century after John Campbell’s time,  red coated Royal Marines were back in Glendale when my Grandfather was about 8 years old – and he recalled them posted on every other hill as they supported court officers serving warrants on poverty stricken crofters who had engaged in a rent-strike as a last desperate resort for a measure of protective justice against barbaric landlords and their equally rapacious factors.

 31 years later, in 1914 the young men of Glendale were enlisted and suffered in another horrific war . Leaders promised that this was to be a war that would end all wars, but a mere 21 years after it ended in 1918 the same communities were ordered to battle once more, in 1939.

 On Remembrance Sunday each year many nations pray that sufficient lessons have been learned to ensure that world leaders will always favour diplomacy over strife, but as has been so sadly obvious recently in the Ukraine a fear of escalation to nuclear conflict can prevent humanitarian military intervention, and allow a tyrant to destroy a neighbouring state. For evil to flourish requires only that good people do nothing – and for the bully might will continue to be right!

Bidh còirichean air choireiginn nam mathair-adhbhar air gach cogadh – ach ’s e mo bheachd gun deach a mhòr-chuid de na rinn sabaid, agus a chailleadh anns gach cogadh, an sàs air sgàth ’s gun deach an òrdachadh ann. Tha fhios gum biodh fianais air gaisge air gach taobh, agus borbachd cuideachd, ach dha cus theaghlaichean agus choimhearsnachdan cha robh dìleab ann ach aonranachd bhrònach leantainneach, agus ainmean shnaidhte a’ crìonadh air cùirn-cuimhne.

Thòisich mi leis a ghnàth-fhacal gun lean sìth gach cogadh, agus ann a bhith a’ cuimhneachadh le urram air na bha ri strì is a’ chailleadh air gach taobh an seo aig Cùl-Lodair, agus anns gach blàr bhon uairsin, nach dèan sinn cuideachd guidhe gun toirear cothrom a-rithist dhan t-sìth!

The Court of Human Rights exists today to consider and  prosecute charges of “war-crime” as have allegedly taken place in Ukraine. Numerous such crimes  took place following Culloden on the order of the Royal Prince, Cumberland,  and it is always worth remembering that many of these crimes were actually inflicted by Gaelic speaking Highlanders.

All wars evolve around rights of various kinds – but probably a vast majority of those who died in these wars did so because they were ordered to battle. Of course there were acts of heroism on all sides, as there were acts of barbarity, but for many families and communities the only legacy is a lasting loneliness, and the names of loved-ones fading on memorials.

I started my comments with the proverb that peace always follows war – and as we honour the memories of all who fought and died, on both sides, here at Culloden, and in every other conflict since, can we also pray that the world might once more manage to give peace a chance!

 

Culloden 2019 - Culloden Anniversary Service

Address by Donald Martin Chieftain 2019-20, Gaelic Society of Inverness

Madainn mhath dhuibh, a chàirdean, agus fàilte oirbh còmhla rinn gu làrach Blàr  Chùil Lodair air an latha thlachdmhor, àlainn  seo.  Tha fios agam gu bheil sibh air tighinn bho gach ceàrn dhan t-saoghail agus taing dhuibh airson a bhith an làthair.   Is mise Domhnall Martainn agus ‘s e urram mòr a tha ann dhòmhsa a bhith riochdachadh Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis nam Cheann-cinnidh airson na bliadhna a tha romhainn.  Ged a tha mi air a bhith nam bhall den Chomunn airson faisg air dà fhichead bliadhna, cha tàinig e riamh a-staigh orm gum bithinn  san dreuchd urramach seo agus tha mi an dòchas gun giùlan mi mo dhleastanas cho math ri na Cinn-cinnidh a bha romham agus gu sònraichte Murchadh Peutan a tha air a bhith na dheagh Cheann-cinnidh dhuibh airson na bliadhna chaidh seachad. Tha mi airson mo thaing phearsanta a thoirt do Mhurchadh airson an deagh chomhairle agus an stiùiridh a thug e dhomh.  Bhrosnaich e mi cho math agus gu bheil mi nis a’ coimhead air adhart gu mòr ri bhith còmhla ribh thairis air a’ bhliadhna seo.   Tha mi làn chinnteach  gum bi sibh taiceil agus foighidneach rium.

Good morning, friends, and a very warm welcome to you all on this rather pleasant, beautiful day to the famous site of the Culloden Battlefield. My name is Donald Martin and it is a great honour for me to be representing the Gaelic Society of Inverness as Chieftain for the coming year. Although I have been a member of the Society  for nearly  forty years now, it never occurred to me that I would be given this honour and I hope that I will be able to fulfil my duties as effectively as my predecessors and none more so than my immediate predecessor, Murdo Beaton, who gave me so much encouragement and advice that  I am now actually looking forward very much to being with you over the next twelve months.   I am sure you will be supportive and patient with me during my tenure.

We are all here today to remember, honour and pay tribute to those who fought and died on this battlefield on that bitter, wet day 273 years on the 16th of April. Our presence here today signifies our commitment to honouring the legacy of those who fought and gave their lives fighting for their cause.  For making this possible we thank the Gaelic Society of Inverness for ensuring that this annual Culloden Anniversary Commemoration Service has been held here for the past nine decades.  As we stand here in silent remembrance today, we reflect on the horrific carnage which left a total of some 2300 of both Government and Jacobite troops dead of which 2000 were Jacobite losses. These losses were catastrophic but worse was to follow with many hundreds more of innocent civilian casualties after the battle not just here but throughout the Highlands and Islands at the hands of the Duke of Cumberland and his forces.

We remember those who lost their lives on this battlefield and elsewhere throughout the Highlands and Islands as well as their families today. But lest we forget, we also remember the devastating impact of the outcome of Cumberland’s revenge on the Highland way of life through the brutal suppression of our language, culture and heritage. Indeed, when we think of the many obstacles placed in the path of our language and culture since the Jacobite defeat at Culloden nearly three centuries ago, it is remarkable that the way of life we are all here to support today, has survived at all. That should give us all hope for the future.

I am sure that most of you here today have looked into your ancestry to establish a family connection with Culloden. In doing some modest research for my own role here today I was surprised to find an indirect family link with the Jacobite cause. I learned from The Inverness Courier dated 25 March 1846 a reference to the death of a John Martin at the age of 112 years and if I have inherited his genes, I have a few years left!   The Courier goes on to record “As a boy of 10, Martin had attended Macleod of Berneray when in hiding after the Battle of Culloden Moor in 1746.”  Macleod of Berneray was Donald Macleod better known as The Old Trojan originally from the Macleod’s of Skye, who became the tacksman in Berneray, in the sound of Harris. He came under heavy fire here at Culloden Moor but miraculously survived the carnage. He was forced into hiding for helping The Young Pretender in his escape after Culloden and had John Martin as a look-out for him.

That John Martin was my father’s great. great, great grandfather, born in Islivig, Uig, on the isle of Lewis.  So I can claim to have a link with the Battle of Culloden through my father’s side of the family.

But my links do not stop there.  I have a further connection on my grandmother’s side – my father’s mother, who was a Campbell from Scalpay.  The Young Pretender on the run after his heavy defeat at Culloden and with a £30,000 price on his head, landed at Eilean Glas Scalpay having been blown off course by a storm while on his way from Skye to Eriskay. The Prince stayed on Scalpay for four days with the tacksman Donald Campbell, before making his way to Arnish near Stornoway. Donald Campbell’s house which was for a time, the Free Church Manse, had a plaque placed above the front doorway recording  the fact that the Prince had stayed there, in hiding,  for four nights after Culloden.                                                                                  

Although the house still exists, sadly, the plaque is no longer visible. Apparently, some decades ago some over-enthusiastic contractor covered the plaque with concrete when the house was being renovated.  He must have been a Government supporter!  The invisible plaque has resulted in the loss of an important element of tangible cultural heritage, linking the island of Scalpay to Prince Charles Edward Stuart travels.  Donald Campbell happened to be a distant relative of my paternal grandmother.

The Western Isles of course played an important role in the Prince’s journey both to and from the Battle of Culloden in the months leading to and following the battle. One of the cultural tourism trails that the visitor to the islands can follow today is the Bonnie Prince Charlie trail which takes you to Eriskay where the Prince landed at Coilleag a Phrionnsa in July 1745, just a few hundred yards from where the famous SS Politican sank in 1941, with its valuable cargo of whisky.  One wonders when the Young Pretender would have reached Culloden Moor had the Politican sank while the Prince was on Eriskay.   The trail takes you to places visited by the Prince in South Uist, and Benbecula in the months leading up to the Battle. Followng the battle, the Prince’s trail to Uist, Harris and Lewis is marked by some commemorative cairns recently constructed by private donation. 

These places are well worth a visit after your experience of the excellent facilities at the Culloden Centre here which is so impressively displayed and interpreted in both Gaelic and English.  I congratulate The National Trust for Scotland, its funders and supporters in maintaining this impressive world heritage centre on our behalf and extend our further congratulations to them on having recently secured museum accreditation status for the Battlefield Centre.  I believe that this status is crucial to protect this atmospheric landscape of Culloden for future generations.

You will all be aware of the current public consultation which the Trust has launched to seek the public’s views on what would be acceptable and appropriate development for the area and I would urge you to support this initiative by giving your views online. In view of the recent controversy regarding a planning decision for housing development virtually on the boundary of this special site of the nation’s cultural heritage, which contains the remains of the thousands who fought and died at Culloden, we do need to ensure that everything possible is done to protect this famous war grave landscape.  It is now time for us all – individuals and organisations - to support the National Trust and the Gaelic Society of Inverness in their endeavours to protect this iconic site for future generations and have it designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site joining such other iconic sites in Scotland as St Kilda and the Neolithic sites in Orkney.

 2019 is designated as UNESCO ‘s Year of Indigenous Languages and this gives us the opportunity to raise awareness of our own Gaelic language and culture at international level.

In spite of the considerable progress made in Gaelic education, broadcasting, the arts, government legislation and public agencies support over the past four decades – Gaelic is listed as one of the 2680 endangered minority languages. Recent calls have been made by An Comunn Gàidhealach, Kate Forbes MSP and others to seek Government support to apply for World Heritage Status for the language and I would therefore ask all individuals and organisations with an interest in the preservation of the language to support the campaign for UNESCO status for our language and culture.

Tha e mar dhleastanas oirnne uile aig a bheil ùidh nar cànan, cultar ‘s ceòl an dìleab phrìseil a thug ar sinnsrean dhuinn a dhìon le bhith ga cleachdadh agus a bhith ga brosnachadh aig a h-uile cothrom. Mar a sgrìobh  bàrd  Chinn Tìre, Donnchadh Mac Ille Ruaidh:-

A Chlanna nan Gàidheal gabhaidh earal san àm

Bithibh dìleas d  ur dùthaich, d’ ur canain ’s d’ ur dream

O glèidhibh an dìleab a thugadh dhuibh slàn

Is deagh-chliù ur n-athraichean leanaibh a ghnàth.

 Tapaidh leibh, a chàirdean ,agus tha mi an dòchas gun còrd an còrr dhan latha shònraichte seo ribh agus turas math dhuibh air ais dhachaigh.  Thank you friends and I hope you enjoy the rest of this very special day and a safe journey home. We look forward to welcoming you all back here for the 2020 Commemoration Service next year. Mòran taing.


Bàs a’ Chòirneil, Teàrlach Friseal, aig Cùil Lodair /
The death of Colonel Charles Fraser at Culloden

A poem by Gaelic Society Bard, Maoilios Caimbeul, read at the 2019 Service

Madainn mhath. Tha mi a’ dol a leughadh earrainn no dhà a sgrìobh mi mu rud a thachair air latha Blàr Chùil Lodair ach an toiseach beagan fiosrachaidh agus dà aithris air na thachair.

I’m going to read some verses I’ve written about something that happened on the day of the battle of Culloden. Colonel Charles Fraser of Inverallochy was the 20-year-old leader of the Frasers at Culloden. He survived the battle but was summarily killed as he lay wounded. There are two versions of the story.

This is John Prebble’s account:

He (i.e. General Hawley, nicknamed ‘The Hangman’) rode by the ground in the middle of the field where the Frasers lay thickly, among them their commander, young Charles Fraser of Inverallochy. He was still alive and stared up from the blood at Hawley’s face. The General turned to one of his staff, who is thought to have been James Wolfe, and told him to pistol the rebel dog. The officer refused, offering his commission instead, and Hawley found a soldier who killed Inverallochy without scruple.      [Culloden, p116]

And this is Arthur Herman’s description:

When riding across the battlefield, he (i.e. Cumberland, nicknamed ‘The Butcher’) came upon the twenty-year-old colonel of the Fraser regiment, Charles Fraser of Inverallochy, standing wounded and bloody in front of him. Cumberland asked him to whom he belonged. “To the Prince,” Fraser replied. Furious, Cumberland turned to an officer, Major James Wolfe, and ordered him to shoot the boy on the spot ... Now, to his everlasting credit, Wolfe refused to obey the order, and offered to resign his commission. Instead, Cumberland gave a signal to a passing soldier, who raised his musket and shot Fraser through the head.    [How the Scots Invented the Modern World, p153-154

Bàs a’ Chòirneil, Teàrlach Friseal, aig Cùil Lodair               The death of Colonel Charles Fraser at Culloden

A Theàrlaich Fhrisealaich, à Inbhir Aileachaidh,                    Charles Fraser of Inverallochy,

An e An Crochadair a fhuair thu                                             Was it ‘The Hangman’ who found you

Air an latha chruaidh ud air blàr Chùil Lodair,                        That grim day on Culloden field,

No an e am Bùidsear a dh’fhàg fuar thu?                      Or was it ‘The Butcher’ who left you cold?

 

Am blàr seachad, tiùrr cuirp do chàirdean                             The battle over, your kinsmen’s bodies

Timcheall ort, thusa nad laighe air do leòn,           Heaped around you, and you are lying wounded,

Fichead bliadhna a dh’aois, is mòr do chòir                           Twenty years of age, it was your right

Gum biodh riaghailtean cogaidh gad dhìon.                          For the rules of war to protect you.

 

Canaidh cuid gur e an Diùc a chunnaic thu,                   Some say it was the Duke who saw you 

’S am blàr seachad, nad sheasamh ’s cleòca fala ort,      After the battle, in a veil of your blood,

’S a thuirt ri Wolfe do spadadh, ach dhiùlt esan;      He told Wolfe to dispatch you, but he refused;

’S dh’àithn e an uair sin do shaighdear do mhurt.      And then he ordered a soldier to murder you.

 

Oir b’ e murt a bh’ ann, e cur peilear nad cheann.       For it was murder, a bullet in your head.

B’ e Hawley, An Crochadair, a bh’ ann canaidh cuid          Some say it was Hawley ‘The Hangman’s’

A rinn an gnìomh suarach, ach ars bith cò                          Evil deed, but whoever it was

Bha e brùideil, bha e ceàrr, bha e grod.                               It was brutal, wrong and rotten.

Culloden 2018: Chief's address and bard's poem

Address delivered by Murdo Beaton, Gaelic Society Chief, at the 2018 Culloden Anniversary Service

Murdo Beaton, Gaelic Society Chief

Murdo Beaton, Gaelic Society Chief

Madainn mhath, a chàirdean, agus as leth Comann Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis bu mhath leam taing a thoirt dhuibh airson a bhith còmhla rinn air an latha cuimhneachaidh seo.

Chan eil dad a b’ fheàrr leamsa na am beagan a th’ agam ri ràdh a bhith gu tur anns a’ Ghàidhlig, ach tha mi mothachail gu bheil mòran an seo aig nach eil Gàidhlig agus tha mi a’ smaoineachadh gu bheil e ciallach (agus modhail) a bhith a’ cleachdadh cànan a thuigeas gach neach a tha ’n làthair.

Friends, on behalf of the Gaelic Society of Inverness I welcome you to this Act of Remembrance today and, while nothing would please me more than to deliver these few thoughts totally in my own language, I am aware that many of you do not have Gaelic, so it seems to me sensible, and courteous, to address you in a language that we can all understand.

We are all aware of the developments proposed for the periphery of the battlefield, and we must continue making the point to the officials and elected representatives who have responsibility for making decisions on these matters that, to every true Gael, this place is sacred ground, containing as it does the bones of our ancestors in the mass graves which are round about us here.

But today is not a day for protest or political posturing; it is, rather, a day for solemn and reverent remembrance of the ghastly encounter that took place 272 years ago on this blood-soaked piece of land on which we stand. We remember the courage and the suffering of the men in both armies, and I consider myself deeply honoured to be here with you today as we reflect upon these events, and upon the ethnic cleansing that followed which was so enthusiastically put into practice with the bayonet, the hangman’s rope and transportation to the colonies in the stinking holds of emigrant ships.

In the space of less than an hour some 2000 men were killed here on that fateful day and while it is undeniably true that a much greater number of Highlanders were lost in the horrific battles of World War 1, such as the Somme and Passchendaele, somehow Culloden is burned deep into the psyche of the Gael - the very name evokes feelings of resentment for the burning injustice that was so cruelly inflicted on our people, our language and our culture

It is impossible for us in our comfortable lives today to even begin to imagine the feelings and emotions of the men who fought here on that tragic day. So we remember, on the one hand, the triumphant elation of the government troops who, a few hours earlier, must have contemplated the very real possibility of an imminent painful death, and now they had not only survived but were victorious. We also remember the terror and desperation of those who fled the field, such as the young Highlander who, having lost his left hand in the battle and, weakened through loss of blood, ran into a nearby cottage and thrust the stump into the fire to cauterize the wound.

But, as we look back on these events 272 years ago, let us also look to the future with a measure of confidence and optimism. It is now generally accepted that the music and literature of the Gael is of immense worth and stands comparison with that of any society. The spectacular success of Gaelic Medium Education and the expansion of Gaelic broadcasting are powerful indicators that our precious language will survive and flourish. Let us hope so.

Tha e ceart agus iomchaidh gu bheil sinn a’ coimhead air ais agus a’ cuimhneachadh, ach bitheamaid cuideachd a ‘ coimhead air adhart le dòchas agus deagh mhisneachd.   

                                                                                 

STADAIBH!

Poem by Maoileas Caimbeul, Gaelic Society Bard

I wrote these verses after hearing of the proposed scheme for 16 houses at Viewfield Farm which is within the “enlarged Culloden Muir conservation area.”   A petition against this development has been signed by over 70,000 people worldwide, including Diana Gabaldon, author of the best-selling Outlander series of books.

                                          

Stadaibh, tha sinn ag ràdh, stadaibh!

Na togaibh taighean air an raon seo

no ri thaobh, no faisg air, cuimhnichibh,

tha sibh an seo air talamh naomh.

 

far na mharbhadh na laoich chalma,

seo an cladh, ’s bu truagh an sgeul e

mura toireamaid spèis is urram

dha na h-uaighean mun cuairt oirnn.

 

Seo crìoch nan iomadh aisling,

far an deach na tàirngean sa chiste,

toiseach brùidealachd mhì-chneasta

a dh’fhalamhaich na glinn de shluagh gasta.

 

Stadaibh, a luchd na maoin ’s an airgid

’s gabhaibh beachd air luachan eile –

gur e tha seo ach talamh coisrigte

a tha Albannaich a’ giùlan nan cridhe;

 

far am bi sliochdan a’ tighinn

a dhèanamh ùmhlachd do an cinneadh;

bidh e chun an latha mu dheireadh

ainmeil an eachdraidh na cruinne.

 

Seo làrach a dh’fhàg làrach na dòrainn’,

a chuir a’ Ghàidhealtachd bun-os-cionn,

na cuiribh togalaichean grànda air àrainn,

biodh e na charragh-cuimhne bho linn gu linn

 

 

Stop!

 

Stop, we say, stop!

Let there be no houses on this field

or beside it, or near it, remember,

you stand on holy ground

 

where brave warriors died,

this is their graveyard, it would be sad

if we didn’t respect and honour

the graves surrounding us.

 

This was the end of many a dream,

where the nails were hammered in the coffin,

the start of a merciless brutality

that emptied the glens of a decent people.

 

Stop, financiers and investors,

and consider other values –

that this is sacred ground

that Scots carry in their heart;

 

where descendants come

to pay respects to their clan;

till the last day it will

be esteemed in world history.


This is a site that has left its mark,

that turned the Highlands upside down;

don’t build ugly buildings near it,

let it be a memorial from age to age.

Address by Gaelic Society Chieftain Jo MacDonald to the Culloden Anniversary Service 2017

A chàirdean, tha sinn air cruinneachadh an seo an-diugh airson cuimhneachadh orrasan a chaill am beatha mar thoradh air a’ bhlàr a bh’ air an làrach seo air an t-siathamh latha deug den Ghiblein, seachd ceud deug, dà fhichead ’s a sia. Tha sinn a’ cuimhneachadh air gach neach a dh’fhuiling mar thoradh air na thachair air raon Chùil Lodair agus tha sinn cuideachd a’ cuimhneachadh air a’ bhuaidh a thug am blàr, agus na thachair as a dhèidh, air ar dòigh-beatha mar Ghàidheil agus air ar cànan.  

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’S e urram a th’ann a bhith aig an t-seirbheis shònraichte seo agus bu mhath leam taing dhùrachdach a thoirt do Chomann Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis airson an cothrom a thoirt dhomh. Tha Blàr Chùil Lodair cho fuaighte ri eachdraidh nan Gàidheal ‘s na Gàidhlig ‘s le sin, ’s dòcha gu bheil e buileach iomchaidh a bhith a’ beachdachadh air Cùil Lodair air a’ bhliadhna shònraichte seo, dà mhìle ’sa seachd-deug - bliadhna a tha ga comharrachadh ann an Alba mar Bliadhna Eachdraidh, Dualchas agus Arc-eòlas.

As I’m sure most of you will know 2017 has been designated in Scotland as the Year of History, Heritage and Archaeology. As Fiona Hyslop, Cabinet Secretary for Culture, Tourism and External Affairs, wrote:  “Our heritage and archaeology capture the imagination of millions, many of whom travel thousands of miles to experience our rich heritage and trace their ancestral roots”.

There are few places that capture the imagination more than Culloden and much has been written about the battle, the reasons for it, the key players, the bloody aftermath and it’s long-term effects on the Highlands and Islands and on Gaelic language and culture.  Professor Hugh Cheape, my predecessor as Ceannard of Comann Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis wrote the following in the year 2000 in an article entitled “Doubts and Delusions of Charlie’s Year”  -   

Although historical truth is ever elusive, we can at least try to look behind the curtain of legend and myth and look into the eyes and minds of those who witnessed these events at first hand and whose reactions and attitudes have been elided by the writing and re-writing of Scottish history since the 18th century. (Hugh Cheape, ‘Doubts and Delusions of Charlie’s Year’, in Cencrastus, The Curly Snake Issue 65 (2000).41-42).

The Gaelic songs and poems written at the time of the ‘45 enable us to look into the eyes and minds of those who witnessed these events at first hand – or indeed suffered as a result of them. As John Lorne Campbell wrote in the preface to his Highland Songs of the ’45 “This anthology is an attempt to show what their thoughts and feelings, as revealed in their vernacular poetry, really were.”

The major Gaelic poets of the eighteenth century are represented in Highland Songs of the ’45 …Alasdair Mac Mhaighstir Alasdair - principal propagandist for the Jacobite cause; his friend John MacCodrum from North Uist; Iain Ruadh Stiùbhart – one of the Jacobites’ best military strategists; Donnchadh Bàn Mac an t-Saoir who fought on the Hanoverian side at Falkirk as a substitute for Archibald Fletcher of Cranach who lent him his sword and promised him the sum of three hundred marks; Rob Donn MacAoidh from Sutherland whose chief supported the Hanoverians but who wrote at least two pro-Jacobite poems. A dozen poets are represented in Highland Songs of the ’45 and perhaps unsurprisingly only one is a woman. But songs and poems composed by women who were affected by Culloden have survived, and, briefly, I’d like to share some of their views with you.   

Òran air Teachd Phrionnsa Teàrlach  - A Song on the coming of Prince Charles  - is ascribed to Nighean Aonghais Òig- the Daughter of Young Angus, described in Clan Donald as Nighean Mhic Aonghais Òig , the only daughter of Angus MacDonald of Achadh nan Coichean, on the south bank of the Spean in Brae Lochaber, a grandson of the tenth chief of Keppoch. Nothing more is really known about her, not even her first name, and although she is referred to in Clan Donald as a well-known poetess this seems to be the only surviving poem of Nighean Mhic Aonghais Òig.  In it she welcomes Prince Charles Edward Stewart with what John Lorne Campbell described as “a refreshing enthusiasm for the Prince’s cause.” 

 An ulaidh phrìseil bha uainne
'S ann a fhuair sinn an dràst' i,
Gum b' i siud an leug bhuadhach
Ga ceangal suas leis na gràsan;
Ged leig Dia greis air adhart
Don mhuic bhith cladhach ad àite,
Nis on thionndaidh a' chuibhle
Thèid gach traoitear fo 'r sàiltean.

Our priceless lost treasure is now restored to us, the jewel of virtues, set around by the graces. And though God for a while let the swine go rooting, now that the wheel has turned we’ll trample every traitor under our feet.

She goes on:

Slàn don t-saor rinn am bàta
A thug sàbhailt' gu tìr thu;
Slàn don iùl-fhear neo-chearbach
Thug thar fairge gun dìth thu;
Gum b' e siud am preas toraidh
Thug an sonas don rìoghachd,
'S lìonmhor laoch thig fo d' chaismeachd
Bheir air Sasannaich strìochdadh.

Here’s health to the shipwright whose boat brought you safely and one to the helmsman who unerringly steered you across the sea. You are the fruitful tree who brought joy to the kingdom and many a hero will follow you to conquer the English. 

She praises some of the clans supporting the Prince but is not afraid to criticise Sir Alexander MacDonald of Sleat who had not fulfilled his promise of support and she finishes with a rallying call and a prayer:

Sgrios le claidheamh gun dearmad
Air gach cealgadair brèige,
Tha o dhuine gu duine
A' cur bun anns an eucoir;
Nis on thàinig an Rionnag,
Teannaibh uile ra chèile,
'S leibh clach-mhullaich a' chabhsair
Anns gach àite don tèid sibh.

With your swords wholly destroy every double-faced liar who from one man to another puts his trust in injustice. Now the Star has arrived gather closely together. The crown of the causeway will be yours wherever you walk.

Dèanaibh cruadal le misneach,
'S ann a-nis tha an t-àm ann,
On a thàinig an solas
Thogas onair na-h Alba;
Fhir a sgaoil a' Mhuir Ruadh
'S a thug do shluagh troimpe sàbhailt',
Bi mar gheàrd air a' Phrionnsa,
Air a chùirt, 's air a phàirtidh.

Be bravely valiant for now the time has come. Since the light who will raise Scotland’s honour has arrived.  O thou who divided the Red Sea and brought your people safely through it - protect the Prince, his court and his party.

Nighean Mhic Aonghais Òig was composing in the early, no doubt heady for some, days of Bliadhna Theàrlaich, the Year of the Prince.

It’s in stark contrast to an anonymous song usually called Achadh nan Comhaichean – the Field of the Covenant – which describes the aftermath of Culloden as experienced by one traumatised young woman. She and her family have suffered dreadfully yet she implies that had Charles been victorious her grief would not be so great.  But she also wishes that she had never set eyes on him.

A Theàrlaich òig, a mhic Rìgh Seumas,
’S mise bha brònach gad fhògradh aig bèistibh -
Iadsan gu subhach 's mise gu deurach,
Uisge mo chinn tighinn tinn o m' lèirsinn.

 Mharbh iad m' athair, mharbh iad mo bhràithrean,
Mhill iad mo chinneadh is chreach iad mo chàirdean,
Loisg iad mo dhùthaich is rùisg iad mo mhàthair ­
'S cha chluinnte mo mhulad nam buinnigeadh Teàrlach.

 A Theàrlaich òig a' chuailein chiataich,
Thug mi gaol dhuit, 's cha ghaol bliadhna,
Gaol nach tug aon do mhac diùic no iarla
B' fheàrr leam fhìn nach faicas riamh thu.

Young Charles, son of King James, I was so sad that you were banished by beasts. They are so cheerful and I am so tearful, crying incessantly.

They've killed my father, they've killed my brothers; They've destroyed my clan and plundered my kinsfolk; They've burned my country and stripped naked my mother ­but if Charles won my grief would not be heard.

Young Charles of the beautiful hair, I gave you love, not the love of a year (but) a love that’s never been given to duke's son or earl's son - I’d much prefer that I'd never seen you.

The effect of the ’45 is also evident in a lament composed by Mairearad Nighean Lachlainn, Margaret MacLean from Mull,- a lament for Sir Eachann MacLean of Duart, chief of the MacLeans. Sir Eachann came from France to Edinburgh at the beginning of June 1745 intending to join the Prince but on the 5th of June he was betrayed by a man named Blair with whom he was lodging, and he was arrested. He was then taken to London and remained in prison there till May 1747 when he was released as a French prisoner. He died in Rome in 1751.   

Despite the existence of at least 11 poems composed by Mairearad nighean Lachainn, all songs of praise for MacLean leaders, very little is known about her. But as a poet of the Duart family she had to be a Jacobite. In Cumha Shir Eachainn Mhic Gilleathain (Lament for Sir Hector MacLean) she describes Sir Eachann as having been “sgiath air uilinn Phrionns’ Teàrlaich” – a shield on the elbow of Prince Charles.  The poem must have been composed after the battle of Culloden.

Dh'aithnich latha Chùil Lodair,
Gu 'm bu dosgach na Gàidheil;
'S gun robh thus’ ann an Sasann
'N dèidh do ghlacadh led nàmhaid;
Ach nam bitheadh tu aca,         
Mun do chaisgeadh an àrach
Cha rachadh fir Shasann
Slàn dhachaigh gu 'n àite.

The day of Culloden was calamitous for the Gaels, and you were in England having been captured by your enemy. But had you got at them before the battle was lost, the men of England would not have gone home safe and well.

She laments the terrible losses of the MacLeans:

Chan e cumha na caoireachd,
Tha mi caoineadh san earrach,
Ach ri iargain nan daoine,
Ris am faodainn mo ghearain;

It is no lament or dirge that I bewail in the spring but I weep for the men to whom I could bring my complaint.    

The poet Sorley MacLean said of Mairead that she was “weighed down and wearied all the time with the great distresses that Clan Illeathainn suffered because of their loyalty to the Stewart Family.

Chaill thu t’ oighreachd is t’ fhearann
'S thug thu thairis gu lèir e;
Airson seasadh gu rìoghail -
‘S rinn do shinnsearachd fhèin sin.

You lost your inheritance and your lands and you gave it all up to take a royal stand; and your ancestors always did the same.

I’m sure Mairearad regarded herself as a clan poet, obliged to support her clan chief. In contrast tah author of Mo rùn geal òg – my fair young love had no such obligation when she created the song that Dr Anne Lorne Gillies described as  “the abiding Gaelic memory of the battle of Culloden; a woman left behind, weeping for the husband she has lost and for the life she will now have to lead.”

The song is usually attributed to Christina Ferguson from Contin in Ross-shire who composed it for her husband William Chisholm. William Chisholm fought at Culloden and according to tradition after the battle he led the remains of his clansmen to the refuge of a nearby barn. He stood bravely at the entrance warding off Cumberland’s soldiers with his sword until he could fight no longer.

In her book Songs of Gaelic Scotland Dr Gillies describes Mo Rùn Geal Òg, my fair young love, as:  

“a deeply intimate and poignant picture of a loving relationship cruelly torn apart and of a woman who has lost her raison d-etre and status in the world…..she reflects not only the grief of any woman left to fend for herself and find a new role in society but also the feelings of the Gaelic speaking people as a whole, facing massive changes which were to culminate in hardship, famine and for thousands, exile. “     

Och, a Theàrlaich òig Stiùbhairt,
'S e do chùis rinn mo lèireadh,
Thug thu bhuam gach nì bh' agam
Ann an cogadh nad adhbhar;
Cha chrodh, is cha chaoraich
Tha mi caoidh ach mo chèile,
Ged a dh' fhàgte mi 'm aonar
Gun sian san t-saoghal ach lèine,
Mo rùn geal òg.

Young Charles Stuart, it 's your cause that has grieved me; you took everything from me in this war in your interest: it's not sheep, it's not cattle that I miss, but my first-love, though I were left all alone with nothing but a shift.

She asks –

Cò nis thogas an claidheamh,
No nì chathair a lìonadh?
'S gann gur h-e tha air m' aire
O nach maireann mo chiad ghràdh.
Ach ciamar gheibhinn o m' nàdar
A bhith 'g àicheadh nas miann leam
Is mo thogradh cho làidir
Thoirt gu àite mo rìgh math,
Mo rùn geal òg?

Who now will lift up the sword or fill the throne? All that hardly concerns me since my first-love is no longer alive. Yet how can my nature go against what I long for, since my own strong desire is the king's restoration.

In a series of deeply poignant verses she describes her dead husband – good-looking, broad-shouldered, skilled at hunting and fishing, generous with drink but able to hold it and faithful to his now bereft wife.

Gura mise th' air mo sgaradh,
‘S ge do chanam, cha bhreug e,
Chaidh mo shùgradh gu sileadh
O nach pillear on eug thu.
Fear do chèille 's do thuigse
Cha robh furast’ ri fheutainn;
 'S cha do sheas an Cùil Lodair
Fear do choltais bu trèine,
Mo rùn geal òg.

I am distraught and that’s not a lie. My joy has turned to weeping since you can never return from the graveA man of your sensitivity and understandingwas not easy to findand there stood at Culloden no man your equal nor any more valiant.

Bha mi greis ann am barail
Gum bu mhaireann mo chèile,
'S gun tigeadh tu dhachaigh
Le aighear is le h-èibhneas,
Ach tha an t-àm air dol thairis
Is chan fhaic mi fear d' eugais
Gus an tèid mi fon talamh
Cha dealaich do spèis rium,
Mo rùn geal òg.

For a while I believed that my husband was alive and that you would come home bringing joy and gladness; but time has gone by and I don’t see anyone who looks like you. Till I am buried beneath the ground your love will never leave me - my fair young love.  

Mo rùn geal òg is one of the great masterpieces of Gaelic song and how terrible it would be if in the future no-one could fully understand Christina Ferguson’s great lament in the language in which it was written. Gaelic is part of our history and our heritage.  It’s also an important part of life in Scotland today.  

I was privileged to be part of the team that delivered the Gaelic content for the Culloden Visitor Centre - a collaboration between the National Trust for Scotland and BBC Radio nan Gaidheal ’s Gaelic Department who produced and recorded the voices and the songs you hear in the Visitor Centre today and on the CD Òrain is Guthan Bliadhna Theàrlaich – Songs and Voices of the ’45.  

Much of the interpretation was funded by Bòrd na Gàidhlig I’m sure in the expectation that Culloden might have served as a model and an inspiration for interpretation in other historic locations.

Bòrd na Gàidhlig is required by the Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005 to prepare and submit to the Scottish Ministers a national Gaelic Language Plan, including a strategy for promoting the use and understanding of the language, and Gaelic education and culture. The draft plan for the next five years is available for public consultation until the middle of May and I would urge you all to engage with it.  Its clear aim is to increase the number of people speaking, using and learning Gaelic in Scotland and the number of situations in which Gaelic is used. That aim cannot be fulfilled by one organisation or community. Many groups, organisations and individuals such as yourselves can have a role in securing the future of the Gaelic language. I would ask you to make that commitment in this year of History, Heritage and Archaeology.

J. NicDhòmhnaill 13.04.2017



Culloden Anniversary 2016

Address by Hugh Cheape, Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, UHI to the Culloden Memorial Service 15.04.16

Blàr Chùil Lodair, 16 an Giblean 2016.

Tha na faireachdainnean agam an-diugh a’ sìneadh eadar irioslachd agus pròis, irioslachd a thaobh an urraim a thug sibh dhomh cuimhne a ghleidheadh air na Gàidheil cliùiteach a thuit ann an Cogadh nan Seumasach, agus pròis a thaobh an dleastanais a bhuilich sibh orm a bhith a’ riochdachadh Comunn Gàidhlig Inbhir-Nis aig Seirbhis Cuimhneachaidh Blàr Chùil Lodair. Le carragh-cuimhne air ar beulaibh agus raon uaigneach tiamhaidh fo ar comhair, tha sinn uile mothachail air an tuiteamas seo a tha a’ sìoladh sìos thugainn thar nan linntean bhon dearbh latha sa’ Ghiblean 1746. Gu deimhinnte ’s e droch latha a bh’ ann, airson Gàidheal air gach taobh dhen t-strì agus mar sin, tha cothrom againn a-rithist an-diugh cuimhne ùrachadh air na daoine foghainteach a chaill am beatha aig Cùil Lodair agus an comharrachadh as ùr.    

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We are commemorating the event 270 years ago today, the last battle of the ’45, which was by any measure a cataclysmic and catastrophic turning-point in Scottish and Highland history. The Battle was an awful closure to the long-running episode of the Jacobite Wars in which the Gaels were sometimes willing, sometimes reluctant participants.  Every generation, it is said, should re-write it’s nation’s history, and the Battle of Culloden gives huge scope for re-visiting the subject  - the reasons for the battle, long and short term causes and effects, and the lesson of history about instigating a ‘civil war’ and about its victims, and how this can be resolved . Almost as we speak another book on the ’45 is being published. This isJacqueline Riding’s Jacobites. a New History of the ’45 Rebellion from Bloomsbury Publishing.  Many of us may have a personal reason for exploring these matters and visiting the battlefield; my great-great-great-great-great grandfather’s brother, David Hunter, was here with the Jacobite army 270 years ago. He survived and escaped abroad.

We read  about the hopelessness of the pitched battle on this open moorland, the chronicle of events leading up to it and the campaign that preceded it - the raising of the Standard at Glenfinnan and the strategy and tactics of the autumn campaign and the march south to Derby. Such events invite speculation over the ‘ifs’ of history - if the Jacobites had carried on the 125 miles to London? Now this curious exercise could be applied more realistically to exploring the ‘ifs’ of history in 1715 and the earlier attempt to place James Francis Edward Stewart on the throne of the United Kingdoms.  

The motives of Gaels in 1745 were complex but the so-called ‘Stewart Cause’ is a historical complex, and our understanding may be distracted by the notion and attractions of a ‘Cause’. To begin to try to explain the events of April 1746 – whether to yourself or to others – we have a steepish hill to climb. Popular views have been formed under the influence of authors and playwrights and the literary wizards of the 19th and 20th centuries. In the afterglow of the Romantic movement, there was an obsession with the ’45 as ‘glorious episode’ or ‘heroic adventure’, and Bonnie Prince Charlie as the ‘rash adventurer’. Tourist literature brimmed with formulae such as, typically, ‘Prince Charlie’s Country’ applied to Lochaber, an area as it happened blighted by the events of ‘Charlie’s Year’.  By contrast, the late Calum MacLean in his resounding work, The Highlands, published, by oral tradition very unwillingly, by Batsford in 1959, wrote: ‘One would expect that in this area there would still be stories and traditions about the Forty-Five and Prince Charlie. Strange to say, there is not so very much’. Since the last Jacobite War unleashed such devastation on the district, it is not surprising that local tradition is muted. Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdairdespaired for the ‘nochd is bochd ud Mhùideart’, and his cousin, Iain Frangach, commented laconically on the Prince’s final departure from Arasaig on 20 September 1746: ‘He left us all in a worse state than he found us’. Humour may thrive in adversity and one joke is still with us. As Calum MacLean wrote: ‘There are hundreds of Prince Charlie’s Caves that the royal fugitive never saw’. When the mapmakers of the Ordnance Survey Royal Engineers toured Inverness-shire in the 1870s, they dutifully marked up ‘Prince Charlie’s Caves’ in response to evidently fulsome information on the ubiquitous footfall of Prince Charles Edward Stewart.  

In the nature of such an event as Culloden, we as a nation are too used to foreshortened and even flawed versions of the battle, its preludes and aftermath. For visitors to the site, huge strides have now been made for the better explanation and interpretation of the battle. The Culloden Visitor Centre opened officially eight years ago today; it is the brainchild of the National Trust for Scotland and included the ‘restoration’ of the battlefield to what we see now. The core narrative is first-rate and effective advantage is taken of today’s interpretive techniques. Above all, and taking the standpoint of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, Scottish Gaelic is introduced competently and confidently in the displays, and used extensively to make it clear that this was a national language and more-or-less the lingua franca of the Jacobite army. This also makes clear that the language and literature of Gaelic Scotland furnishes history with real substance and it would be an interesting and challenging exercise to lay the ‘grand narrative’ of Scottish and British history to one side and compile a new history of the ’45 on the basis of Gaelic and Gaelic-derived sources. Given the course and consequences of the ’45, this would introduce a fresh emphasis in the narrative and give to the people of the Highlands and Islands a history which speaks for them rather than one composed at a distance and imposed on them.  

Gaelic was spoken on both sides of the conflict. Incidents in the campaign hinged on mutual intelligibility, as in the so-called ‘Rout of Moy’ on the night of 16 February 1746. Alasdair mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, Alexander MacDonald of Dalilea, Moidart, the most prolific of the poets, gave vivid voice to the ideals and high hopes of Gaels in the ’45, as did John Roy Stewart. Donnchadh Bàn Mac an t-Saoir is perhaps the best example of a poet in the Hanoverian army who yet took a more traditional Jacobite line. His was one of the voices which cursed the Hanoverians for their indiscriminate penalising by the Disclothing Act of loyal and rebel clans alike.

The first move in an adjustment of Highland history towards an understanding of the Gaelic voice came in 1933 with the late Dr John Lorne Campbell’s Highland Songs of the Forty-Five. This work revealed a political awareness and acumen far in advance of local and clan-bound traditional allegiances. Powerful concepts were brought into play such as messianic hopes for the restoration of the Stewarts and of a pan-Gaelic kingdom. Though this was in effect the last battle, Jacobitism had also been the vehicle for a prophecy of a different ‘last battle’ as ultimate victory for the Gaels. This is the repeated element of Thomas the Rhymer traditions in Scottish Gaelic and formerly an important part of the cultural life of the Gael. Thomas the Rhymer lies sleeping in in Tom na h-Iùbhraich, with his men-at-arms and his white horses, awaiting the apocalyptic summons. He would become mortal again and lead the Gaels to victory and all the early poets such as Iain Lom refer to the prophecy as established tradition.

This sense of hope – even of redemption – should fire our curiosity to reconsider the history of the Highlands and Islands. If we were standing here on the threshold of the 18th, as opposed to the 21st century, we would be in the midst of a culture that had taken its place among the nations of Europe, a culture at its most confident, successful and assertive, to become, arguably, the most decisive factor in 17th and 18th century British history. If it was not this, a vengeful government might not have taken such steps to destroy it.  The conventional approach of writers and historians to 17th century Scotland, for example, has for too long led with the sorry story of civil and religious wars, interruptions to trade and commerce , economic stagnation and famines and epidemics. In the same context, intellectual or artistic endeavours (including, say, music) are ignored before the ‘sunburst’ of the Enlightenment. Gaelic culture and society has tended to be omitted from the discourse, apart from the briefest of aperςu when the Highlander rudely invades the stage of British politics , and are too often viewed retrospectively through the defining lenses of economic determinism, ‘Clearance’ and Romanticism.

By remembering what has been on this battlefield, we can honour our forebears, but 270 years after the event we can build on this remembrance by looking forward with hope and optimism. Is ann le meas a tha sinn a’ cur clach eile air a’ chàrn ac’, a’ faicinn tionndadh eile ri Cuibhle an Fhortain agus ag èisteachd le cinnte air na tha ar sinnsirean a’ labhairt troimh na linntean.