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Part I
A Sketch of the
Moral and Physical Character, and of the Institutions and Customs of the
Inhabitants of the Highlands of Scotland
Sketches of the Highlanders
Section VIII.
Love of Country—Social
Meetings—Traditional Tales and Poetry.
It has often been remarked,
that the inhabitants of mountainous and romantic regions are of all men
the most enthusiastically attached to their country. The Swiss, when at
a distance from home, are sometimes said to die of the maladie du pays.
[During last war a Swiss soldier, confined in the French prison at Perth
was long in a lingering sickly state, from no other cause that the surgeon
could discover but a constant longing and sighing for his native country.
I have frequently met with instances of the same kind among Highland
recruits.] The Scotch Highlanders entertain similar feelings. The cause of
this attachment to their native land is the same in all. In a rich and
champaign country, with no marked or striking features, no deep impression
is made on the imagination by external scenery. Its fertility is the only
quality for which the soil is valued; and the only hope entertained from
it is realized by an abundant crop. In such a country, the members of the
community do not immediately depend for their happiness on mutual
assistance or friendly intercourse; and thus an exclusive selfishness is
apt to supplant the social affections. Hence, too, in the ordinary tenor
of life, we seldom find amongst them any thing calculated to catch the
imagination, to excite the feelings, or to give an interest to the records
of memory;—no striking adventures—no daring or dangerous enterprises.
Amongst them we seldom hear
"Of moving accidents by
flood and field,
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach."
To the Highlanders such
scenes and subjects were congenial and familiar. The kind of life which
they led exposed them to vicissitudes and dangers, which they shared in
common. They had perchance joined in the chase or in the foray together,
and remembered the adventures in which they all had participated. Their
traditions referred to a common ancestry; and their songs of love and
valour found an echo in general sympathy. In removing from their homes,
such a people do not merely change the spot of earth on which they and
their ancestors have lived. Mercenary and selfish objects are forgotten in
the endear-inc associations entwined round the objects which they have
abandoned. Among a people who cannot appreciate his amusements, his
associations, and his taste, the expatriated Highlander naturally sighs
for his own mountains. Even in removing from one part of the Highlands to
another, the sacrifice was regarded as severe.
[A single anecdote,
selected from hundreds with which every Highlander is familiar, will show
the force of this local attachment. A tenant of my father's, at the foot
of Shichallain, removed, a good many years ago, and followed his son to a
farm which he had taken at some distance lower down the country. One
morning the old man disappeared for a considerable time, and being asked
on his return where he had been, he replied, "As I was sitting by the side
of the river, a thought came across me, that, perhaps, some of the waters
from Shichallain, and the sweet fountains that watered the farm of my
forefathers, might now be passing by me, and that if I bathed they might
touch my skin. I immediately stripped, and, from the pleasure I felt in
being surrounded by the pure waters of Leidnabreilag, (the name of the
farm), I could not tear myself away sooner."]
The poetical propensity of
the Highlanders, which indeed was the natural result of their situation,
and their peculiar institutions, is generally known. When adventures
abound they naturally give fervour to the poet's song; and the verse which
celebrates them is listened to with sympathetic eagerness by those who
have similar adventures to record or to repeat. Accordingly, the
recitation of their traditional poetry was a favourite pastime with the
Highlanders when collected round their evening fire. The person who could
rehearse the best poem or song, and the longest and most entertaining
tale, whether stranger, or friend, was the most acceptable guest. [When a
boy I took great pleasure in hearing these recitations, and now reflect,
with much surprise, on the ease and rapidity with which a person could
continue them for hours, without hesitation and without stopping, except
to give the argument or prelude to a new chapter or subject. One of the
most remarkable of these reciters in my time was Duncan MacIntyre, a
native of Glenlyon in Perthshire, who died in September 1816, in his 93d
year. His memory was most tenacious; and the poems, songs, and tales, of
which he retained a perfect remembrance to the last, would fill a volume.
Several of the poems are in possession of the Highland Society of London,
who settled a small annual pension on MacIntyre a few years before his
death, as being one of the last who retained any resemblance to the
ancient race of Bards. When any surprise was expressed at his strength of
memory, and his great store of ancient poetry, he said, that in his early
years, he knew numbers whose superior stores of poetry would have made his
own appear as nothing. This talent was so general, that to multiply
instances of it may appear superfluous.
A few years ago, the
Highland Society of London sent the late Mr Alexander Stewart (He was
grandson to the man who bathed in his native waters.) through the Southern
Highlands to collect a few remains of Gaelic poetry. When he came to my
father's house, a young woman in the immediate neighbourhood was sent for,
from whose recitations he wrote down upwards of 3000 lines; and, had she
been desired, she could have given him as many more. So correct was her
memory, that, when the whole was read over to her, the corrections were
trifling. When she stopped to give the transcriber time to write, she
invariably took up the word immediately following that at which she
stopped. This girl had peculiar advantages, as her father and mother
possessed great stores of Celtic poetry and traditions. Several specimens
are in possession of the Highland Society of London.] When a stranger
appeared, after the usual introductory compliments, the first question
was, "Bheil dad agud air na Fian?" Can you speak of the days of Fingal? If
the answer was in the affirmative, the whole hamlet was convened, and
midnight was usually the hour of separation. At these meetings the women
regularly attended, and were, besides, in the habit of assembling
alternately in each other's houses, with their distaffs, or
spinning-wheels, when the best singer, or the most amusing reciter, always
bore away the palm.
The powers of memory and
fancy thus acquired a strength unexampled among the peasantry of any other
country, where recitation is not practised in a similar way, and where,
every thing being committed to paper, the exercise of memory is less
necessary. It is owing to this ancient custom that we still meet with
Highlanders who can give a connected and minutely accurate detail of the
history, genealogy, feuds, and battles of all the tribes and families in
every district, or glen, for many miles round, and for a period of several
hundred years. They illustrated these details by a reference to any
remarkable stone, cairn, [A heap of stones was thrown over the spot where
a person happened to be killed or buried. Every passenger added a stone to
this heap, which was called a Cairn. Hence the Highlanders have a saying,
when one person serves another, or shows any civility, "I will add a stone
to your cairn;" in other words I will respect your memory.] tree, or
stream, within the district; connecting with each some kindred story of a
fairy or ghost, or the death of some person who perished in the snow, by
any sudden disaster, or by some accidental rencounter, and embellishing
each with some tradition or anecdote. Such topics formed their ordinary
subject of conversation. In the Lowlands, on the other hand, it is
difficult to find a person, in the same station of life, who can repeat
from memory more than a few verses of a psalm or ballad, and who, instead
of giving an historical detail of several ages, and changes of families,
is generally dumb, or perhaps answers with a vacant stare of surprise when
such questions are asked. The bare description, however, of such
rencounters or accidents, among a people merely warlike, how impetuous and
energetic soever in character, would have proved exceedingly monotonous,
or fit only to amuse or interest persons possessed of few ideas and obtuse
feelings; but in the graphic delineations of the Celtic narrator, the
representation of adventures, whether romantic or domestic, was enlivened
by dramatic sketches, which introduced him occasionally as speaking or
conversing in an appropriate and characteristic manner. This, among people
accustomed to embody the expressions of passion and deep feeling in a
powerful and pathetic eloquence, gave life and vigour to the narratives,
and was, in fact, the spirit by which these narratives were at once
animated and preserved. [Martin, speaking of the Highlanders of his time,
says, "Several of both sexes have a quick vein of poesy; and in their
language (which is very emphatic) they compose rhymes and verse, both of
which powerfully affect the fancy, and, in my judgment, (which is not
singular in this matter), with as great force as that of any ancient or
modern poet I ever yet read. They have generally very retentive
memories."']
By this manner of passing
their leisure time, and by habitual intercourse with their superiors, they
acquired a great degree of natural good breeding, together with a fluency
of nervous, elegant, and grammatical expression, not easily to be
conceived or understood by persons whose dialect has been contaminated by
an intermixture of Greek, Latin, and French idioms. Their conversations
were carried on with a degree of ease, vivacity, and freedom from
restraint, not usually to be met with in the lower orders of society. The
Gaelic language is singularly adapted to this colloquial ease, frankness,
and courtesy. It contains expressions better calculated to mark the
various degrees of respect and deference due to age, rank, or character,
than are to be found in almost any other language. These expressions are,
indeed peculiar and untranslatable. A Highlander was accustomed to stand
before his superior with his bonnet in his hand, if so permitted, (which
was rarely the case, as few superiors chose to be outdone in politeness by
the people,) and his plaid thrown over his left shoulder, with his right
arm in full action, adding strength to his expressions, while he preserved
a perfect command of his mind, his words, and manners. He was accustomed,
without showing the least bashful timidity, to argue and pass his joke
(for which the language is also well adapted) with the greatest freedom,
naming the person whom he addressed by his most familiar appellation. [If
the individual was a man of landed property, or a tacksman of an old
family, he was addressed by the name of his estate or farm; if otherwise,
by his. Christian name or patronymic. From these patronymics many of our
most ancient families, such as the Macdonalds, Macdougals, Macgregors, and
others of the western and southern clans, assumed their names, as well as
the more modern clans of the southern Highlanders, the Robertsons and
Farquharson, the latter changing the Celtic mac to the Scottish son, as
the Fergusons have done, although this last is supposed to be one of the
most ancient names of any, as pronounced in Gaelic, in which language the
modern name Ferguson is totally unknown. The last instance I knew of a
person assuming the patronymic as a surname, was the late General Reid,
who died Colonel of the 88th regiment in 1806, and whom I shall have
occasion to mention as an officer of the 42d regiment, and as one of the
most scientific amateur musicians of his time. He was son of Alexander
Robertson of Straloch, whose forefathers, for more than three centuries,
were always called Barons Rua, Roy, or Red. The designation was originally
assumed by the first of the family having red hair, and having got a royal
grant of a barony. Although the representative of the family was in all
companies addressed as Baron Rua, and as I have said, was known by no
other name, yet his signature was always Robertson, all the younger
children bearing that name. General Reid never observed this rule; and
being the heir of the family, was not only called Reid, but kept the name
and signature of Reid: why he added the letter i to Red I know not. The
celebrated Kearnach, Robert Rua Macgregor, sometimes signed Rob Roy, or
Red Robert. (See Appendix, Q.)] Feeling thus unembarrassed before his
superior, he never lost the air of conscious independence and confidence
in himself, which were acquired by his habitual use of arms; "a fashion,"
as is observed by a celebrated writer, "which, by accustoming them to the
instruments of death, remove the fear of death itself, and which, from the
danger of provocation, made the common people as polite and as guarded in
their behaviour as the gentry of other countries." [Sir John Dalrymple's
Memoirs of Great Britain.] |
