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Michael Kennedy in "Lochaber no more": A Critical Examination of Highland Emigration Mythology in Myth, Migration and the Making of Memory clearly demonstrates that the Gaelic voice is lacking in historical discourse about emigration. Where it is heard, it is a synthetic one, as in the "lone shieling" of The Canadian Boat Song, supposedly from the Gaelic singing of boatmen on the St Lawrence but, in fact, a complete invention, according to Kennedy, from the pen of David Macbeth Moir, a native of Musselburgh, near Edinburgh, who had been neither to the Highlands nor to Canada.
The lack of this Gaelic perspective has long been accepted but Kennedy makes the point that this recognition by Bumsted, and particularly by Eric Richards, is wrongly attributed to the emigrants failing to record their thoughts and experiences for posterity. Kennedy shows that there is indeed a rich well of Gaelic sources and the fact that these are not drawn on in the major works on emigration is a consequence of the histories having been written by solely English-speaking historians. Their failure to find Gaelic material is twisted away from their own failure to look for it towards the age-old characterisation of 'the Gaelic world as inherently inept'.
In addition to bringing this to our attention, Kennedy dispels the myth that all emigré poetry was morose pining for the homeland. His essay concentrates largely on 19th century Nova Scotian writing which shows not a helpless people swept along as the flotsam of history but as those making 'a positive choice to realise freedom'. John Sinclair and Calum Bàn MacMhannain's songs praising Prince Edward Island do not look back to Scotland overly fondly but rather see the future of the Gael lying in the New World.
In this respect, earlier emigration poetry is no different.
Iain MacCodrum, whose famous, Song to the emigrants, is mentioned in another
article rages against the iniquity and folly of the landlords but concludes the same poem secure in the knowledge that the emigrants had a far better life ahead of them in Canada than in Scotland.
MacCodrum was born on North Uist and spent most of his life there. He became bard to Sir James Macdonald of Sleat in 1763. His songs were published by the Scottish Gaelic Text Society in 1938, edited by W. Matheson who took the text of the song from the Stewart collection (Edinburgh, 1804) where it was published as Oran du Mhuinntir a chaidh do dh'America as na h'Eileanan Gaelach (Song to the people who went to America from the Western Isles) to the tune Air tuiteam a'm chadal. Now better known as Oran do na Fògarraich (Song to the emigrants), it refers to the emigrations from North Uist between 1771 and 1775.
| Oran do na Fògarraich | | Song to the Emigrants |
Togaibh misneach is sòlas
Bithibh inntinneach ceólas
Agus cuiribh ur dòchas
Ann an còmhnadh an Airdrigh
On as fheudar dhuibh seòladh
('S nach ann do ur deòin e)
Do riogachd nach eòl duibh
Mar a thòisich ur càirdean.
O nach fuiling iad beò sibh
Ann an crìochaibh ur n-eòlais
'S fheàrr dhuibh falbh do ur deòin
Na bhith fodha mar thràillean
Siad na h-uachdarain ghòrach
A chuir fuaradh fo'r srònaibh -
A bhris muineal Righ Deòrsa
Nuair a dh'fhògradh na Gaidheil !
....
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Be brave and joyful
Hopeful and cheerful
And put your trust
In the help of the High King
Because you must sail
(Though it's not what you want)
To a kingdom you do not know
Following your relatives
Because they won't let you live
In the land that you know.
It is better you leave of your own will
Than be kept down like slaves
How thoughtless were the landlords
Who scattered you to the winds -
And broke the backbone of King George
When the Gaels were expelled !
....
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Is truagh an gnothach ri smaoineach',
Tha 'm fearann ga dhaoradh -
Ghrad dh'fhalbh ar cuid dhaoine
'S thainig caoirich 'nan àite
Is lag an sluagh iad, 's is faoin iad
Dol an carraid no'n caonnaig,
Làn bracsaidh is caoile
'S iad fo dhraoidh ghille-màrtainn.
Cha dèan smiùradh ur saoradh
'N làthair batail air raonaidh
No fead ciobair an aonaich
Gnè chaochladh dhe'r n-ànradh,
'S ged a chruinnicheadh sibh caogad
Mholt is reitheachan maola
Is beag a thogadh a h-aon diubh
Claideamh faobharach stàilinn.
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It is sad to think
How the land has been made dearer
Our people left suddenly
And sheep came in their place
Weak forces, incapable,
In raid or battle
Skinny and full of braxy
Beguiled by the fox.
Smearing will not save you
When battle comes to the field
Nor will the shepherd's whistle
Ease your woe,
And were you to gather fifty
Hornless rams and wedders
Not one would raise
A steel-bladed sword
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Ciod am fàth dhomh bhith 'g innse
Gun d'fhàs sibh cho miodhar
'S gun spothadh sibh frighde
Far an direadh i fàrdan?
Dh'falbh na ceannardan mìleant'
Dh'an robh sannt air an fhìrinn,
Dh'an robh geall air an dilsean
Agus cuing air an nàmhaid,
Air an tuath bha iad cuimhneach
(Cha b'ann gus an sgriobadh),
Bhiodh bantraichean 's dilleachdain
Diolta gu saidhbhir;
Gach truaghan gun dith air
Mun cuairt air na suinn sin
Nach sealladh gu h-iseal -
Bha n'intinn ro stàtail
....
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What's the point of me saying
You have grown so mean
That you would geld a louse
Were it to gain a farthing in value?
Gone are the warrior chiefs
With their yearning for truth
And respect for those followers
Who contained their foes,
Ever mindful of the their tenantry
(Though not to fleece them),
Widows and orphans
Liberally provided for
Without want was each pauper
Around those heroes
Who would never set their sights low
Their purpose too noble
....
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Triallaibh nis, fearaibh,
Gu dùthaich gun ghainne
Cuiribh cùl ris an fhearann
Chaidh thairis am màl oirbh
Gu dùthaich a'bhainne,
Gu dùthaich na meala,
Gu dùthaich an ceannaich sibh
Fearann gu'r n-àilgheas,
Gu dùthaich gun aineis,
Gun chrionadh gun stanard,
Far an cnuasaich sibh barrachd
'S a mahaireas ri'r laithean
.....
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Go now then boys,
To a country without want
Turn your back on the land
Where the rent went too high
For the country of milk
For the country of honey
For the country where you'll buy
All the land that you need
In the country without want
Without blight, without limit
Where you will pick up more
Than will last the days of your life
....
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