This post written by Dr Sìm Innes, Oilthigh Ghlaschu

[English translation follows below]

Is iomadh uair ri linn an Athbheothachaidh Cheiltich a chualas gun robh na Gàidheil, neo na h-Albannaich gu lèir, air dùsgadh, no an impis dùsgadh, air neo gun robh an t-àm aca dùsgadh. Thug Lachlann MacBheathain (1853-1931) òraid do Chomunn Gàidhlig Inbhir Nis ann an 1896 air an robh ‘The Mission of the Celt’. Bha MacBheathain, a thogadh ann an Cill Taraglain, na fhear-deasachaidh air a’ phàipear The Fifeshire Advertister. Bha e ri eadar-theangachadh agus sgrìobhadh na Gàidhlig cuideachd.[1] Na òraid, thòisich e le bhith a’ toirt sùil air eachdraidh an Athbheothachaidh is thuirt e:

The Gael suddenly awoke to the alarming fact that his native tongue, which more than anything else was the distinguishing mark of his tribe, was dying out before the tongue of the Southron. The thought touched his sensitive and melancholy nature as nothing else could…. Having now glanced over this heaving tide of new Celtic life which has overflowed the fields of literature, music, customs, and social progress, it remains for us to ask, What of the future? The Gael are awakening to consciousness, and as a man when he becomes conscious, first asks, What am I? Whence am I? What am I here for? So the Gael must ask, What are we? What are our capabilities? What is our destiny? … Well, now, we have looked at these three curents of our times – the rising tide of Celtic revival among ourselves, the flow of Celtic sentiment and ideas in English life and literature, and the stream of Celtic blood into city life – and we should now be in a position to guess what is the mission and destiny of the Celt. It is surely by infusion of ideas and transfusion of blood to leaven modern civilization with its own awakening spirit.[2]

Chan e a-mhàin gun robh na Gàidheil nan cadal ach bha iad fo sheòrsa de gheasaibh ann an suain sheunta:

Until quite lately, we seem to have been a race under some evil enchantment. We were ashamed of our Gaelic, ashamed of being Highlanders… but all this is changed; the spell is broken.[3]

Tha e follaiseach gun robh ìomhaigh a’ ghaisgich na shuain-chadail gu mòr a’ drùidheadh air agus a’ toirt brosnachadh do sgrìobhadairean agus luchd-ealain an Athbheothachaidh. Aig a’ chridhe tha sgeul neo moitif a tha, is a bha, bitheanta air feadh an t-saoghail (AT766).[4] Chìthear e ann an Alba ann an, ‘The Awakening of Cuchullin’ (1895), dealbh-bhalla a pheant John Duncan aig Loidse Ramsaidh ann an Dùn Èideann, neo ann am briathran Phàdraig Geddes nuair a sgrìobh e mu leithid Merlin a bhith na chadal agus, ‘in some young soul here and there the spirit of the hero and the poet may awaken… such is our Scottish and Celtic Renascence.’[5] Anns a’ Chuimrigh b’e an Rìgh Artur a dh’fheumadh èirigh gus cùis na Cuimrigh agus na Cuimris a leasachadh.[6] Ann an Èirinn bha an sgeul seo air innse mu iomadach gaisgeach eachdraidheil agus faoinsgeulach agus gheibhear lorg air gu furasta bho àm an Ath-Bheothachaidh.[7] Mar eisimpleir, anns a’ chiad iomleabhar den iris Ulad ann an 1904 bha Seosamh MacCathmhaoil (1879-1944) air sgeulachd ghoirid a sgrìobhadh a bha na ‘propagandist parable’ a rèir an Irish News aig an àm:

I dreamed a dream. Methought a voice spoke to me as from the clouds. It said, ‘The time is upon us!’ I looked around, fearfully, and beheld a haggard old woman before me.’… ‘The time for the heroes to ride forth,’ she said. ‘I wandered just now into that cave that pierces this hill at its foot. I saw there the heroes of the sons of Niall. Many think they are dead. They are not dead, I tell you. They are lying trance-bound, as in sleep. … ‘They are not ridden forth yet. I have not broken the ancient spell that binds them. They are biding the setting of the sun and the passing of the night. They will ride forth at the dawn.  … When I awoke again it was dawn. My face was to the rising sun. I arose joyfully, and gave the day-god salutation…. Too long have they lain trance-bound and sleeping, but now they are stirred. The spell of enchantment is broken. They are gone forth, and till the Day of the Great Judgment they may not be recalled. They shout their ancient war-cry – ‘Lámh Dearg ar uachtar! – and ride out into the morning. May the road rise to them, and to all that follow! May victory sit on the banners of the Red Hand![8]

Am measg Ghàidheal na h-Alba bha am moitif seo ga nochdadh fhèin tric ann an sgeulachdan mu na Fianntaichean a bhith nan cadal ann an uaimh ach a’ feitheamh gairm ach an an dùisgeadh iad uair eile. Bhathar tric a’ tuigsinn gun robh na Fianntaichean anns an sgeul a’ samhlachadh nan Gàidheal. Mar a thuirt William T. Kilgour ann an 1908:

Some treat the tale symbolically, and say that an Fheinn air a h-uilinn (the Feinne on their elbows) is representative of the Gael these many years past, and that some day, whether it be on the third blast of the trump or not is indicated, but certainly some day, they will shew the world their full strength.^[9]

Chan eil e na chùis-iongnaidh mar sin, gu bheil dà dhealbh-chluich againn do chloinn, stèidhichte air a’ mhoitif seo a rinn luchd-iomairt na Gàidhlig ann an Alba aig toiseach an fhicheadamh linn.

Dùsgadh na Féinne

Tha feum air na Fianntan; tha an dùthaich ’na frìth;

Tha Ghàidhlig dol bàs; cha’n eil daoine ’san tìr;

Nach ’eil Gaidheal an Albainn, no Gaidheal an céin

a shéideas an dùdach ’s a dhùisgeas an Fhèinn?

B’e Catrìona NicGhille-Bhàin Ghrannd (1845-1928) a rinn Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908).[10] Thogadh i anns an Apainn ach bha i ann an Sidni, Astràilia nuair a sgrìobh i an dealbh-chluich. Tha mi air caibideil a sgrìobhadh air Dùsgadh na Féinne bho chionn ghoirid a bhios a’ nochdadh ann an cruinneachadh deasaichte a dh’aithghearr.[11] Tha an sgeul mun Fhèinn a bhith  ‘air a h-uilinn’ gus an dùisgear iad aig cridhe an dealbh-chluich agus tha teachdaireachd làidir ann don chloinn a bhiodh san èisteachd gu bheil feum air dùsgadh a bheir crathadh air cor na Gàidhealtachd. Seo mar a tha sgeul na Fèinne air innse:

Seumas.- Có b’ iad an Fhéinn?

 

Dòmhnull.- Buidheann de dhaoine treuna

A thug iad féin a suas, le’n cuideachdan,

Gu Albainn a chumail saor o nàimhdean.

Thug iad-féin a suas; an neart; an cuibhreann;

An cridhe is an inntinn, fad am beatha,

gu math na tìr ’s an t-sluaigh a thoirt mu’n cuairt.

Thuit mòran diùbh ’s na blàraibh; chaochail cuid;

Gus nach robh h-aon air fhàgail dhiùbh ach Oisean

Am fìor shean aois. Chrom esan sìos do’n uaigh

A’ caoidh gu muladach a chompanaich.

Mu dheireadh thiodhlaiceadh e làimh ri càch.

 

Sìle.- Ciamar? An d’adhlaiceadh iad uile còmhla?

 

Dòmhnall.- Tha iad ’nam bàs mar a bha iad ’nam beatha;

Tha iad ’nan sìneadh còmhla ann an uaimh

Tha ’n uamh sin falaichte am measg nan creag;

’S cha ’n fhios an diugh do dhuine c’ àit’ am bheil i.

 

Cailean.- ’N e sin na bheil ’san naigheachd?

 

Dòmhnull.- O, cha ’n è:

Bha math na dùthcha riamh cho dlùth d’ an cridhe;

Bha ’n gaol d’ an sluagh cho daingeann is cho beò

Nach d’ eug an Fhéinn mar a ni muinntir eile;

Cha ’n eil iad marbh; cha ’n iad ach ’nan cadal;

Is thigeadh uair na h-éiginn, thigeadh cás

A ris air Albainn, éiridh g’ a cuideachadh

Gach gaisgeach dhiubh gu cath an aghaidh an nàmhaid.

 

Eóghan.- Ciamar a gheibh iad fios aig an àm cheart?

 

Dòmhnull.- Nuair thig an t-àm, thig duine dhùisgeas iad.

Bha, aon uair, gobhainn ann, d’ am b’ aithne ’n t-àite

’S am bheil an Fhéinn ’nan laidhe. Rinn e iuchair

A dh’ fhosgail dha a’ chreag. Ghabh e stigh

Is chunnaic e na suinn an sin ’nan suain;

Gach fear ’na éideadh-airm, le sgiath ’s le chlaidheamh.

Bha cuid dhiubh le cruit-chiùil a’ bhàird r’ an cliathaich.

Dlùth air na suinn, bha dùdach mhór ’na laidhe.

Esan aig am biodh anail treun gu leòir,

’S gu leòir de mhisneach aige, an fheadag mhòr

A chur r’ a bhilean, agus, tri uairean thairis,

Séideadh thoirt dith gu làidir, coimhlionta,

Chuireadh a ghairm na gaisgich air am bonnaibh,

Is thigeadh iad a mach gu cathachadh

An aghaidh nàmhaidean Albann mar o shean.

Thog an gobhainn an dùdach r’ a bhilean

Is shéid e i. Lìonadh le fuaim an uaimh,

Is thug na Fianntan plaosgadh air an sùilean.

An dara uair shéid  e cho fad ’s a bh’ aige.

Dh’ éirich na suinn, le clisgeadh, air an uilinn.

Le clisgeadh thilg an gobhainn uaith an fheadag;

Ghabh e na casan ás a dh’ ionnsuidh ’n doruis,

Am feadh a ghlaodh na Fianntan le guth aimheil:

“Is miosa dh’ fhág na fhuair.”

Dhruideadh an dorus cloiche  as déigh a’ ghobhainn

Is thilg an gealtair air a chùl an iuchair;

Is riamh o’n latha sin cha ’n fhios do dhuine

Cò ì a’ chreag ’sam bheil an Fhéinn ’na cadal.

Dé ’m fios nach ann ’sa chreig ud thall a tha iad!

An dèidh seo, aig deireadh an sgeòil tha a’ chlann san dealbh-chluich a’ gealltainn gum bi iad dìleas don Ghàidhlig agus do chultar na Gàidhlig.

Am Mosgladh Mòr

B’ e Calum MacPhàrlain, neo ‘Caraid na Cloinne’, (1853-1931) a sgrìobh Am Mosgladh Mòr: Dealbhchluich-Ciùil Cloinne. Nochd a’ chiad phàirt den dealbh-chluich an toiseach anns an iris The Celtic Monthly as t-samhradh ann an 1914.[12] Aig toiseach an iom-leabhair sin gheibhear facal on deasaiche (Annie M. MacKay?) agus tha mìneachadh ann a tha a’ sealltainn gur e banrìgh ann an suain sheunta is chan e an Fhèinn a tha san dealbh-chluich seo:

We have pleasure in substituting for our usual Musical Page in the issues for this month and the two following ones, this new departure in the promotion of the Gaelic Language cause. Time after time it has been proved that the bounty-fed efforts of the societies are of little avail in instituting Gaelic progressiveness. Somehow, the wrong men are put in charge – the talker where the worker should be; the dreamer where the practical man of knowledge should be. And so the weary round of trotting out old things goes on – almost every one seeking notoriety at the cheapest rate, and sometimes stealing it from those who worked before them for the love of the thing. The present is one more proof of the failure of the societies and the success of unaided private effort.

There is a Children’s Gaelic Musical Play in existence, called “Dusgadh na Feinne” – “The Awakening of the Fians.” It is by Mrs K. W. G. and is a creditable production of its kind. But it has failed to catch on. Two facts are against its rising in favour; it is a reproduction of real children’s play, and it has rather much literary flavour about the words. Children love better to imitate grown people in their amusements and to affect the accomplishment of achievements.

The following play differs from the other in respect of the words and music being both original and belonging equally to the plot. No attempt has been made after literary excellence. To have done so would have been a mistake.

The plot is allegorical and propagandist. It is called “The Great Awakening”, and shadows forth the denouement of the Gaelic movements, as hoped for by the enthusiast. A usurping Queen of The Rough Island has put the rightful Queen and her court under spells, and she and they lie in a cave which was once a palace, until, according to a certain prophecy, dwarfs return to the island and become the instruments for breaking those spells. The dwarfs land, meet the usurping Queen, overcome her guard, and expel her. They send a party throughout the island to discover the disenchantress who is fated to dissolve the spells under which the native Queen lies. They bring in seven alleged disenchantresses, and after a process of weeding out the false ones and burning their remedies in a cauldron – a bh’ aig an Fhéinn mar thùisear: that the Fians had as an incense burner – the proper one is discovered. The leader of the dwarfs, by the use of cabalistic signs and words, opens the cave, the disenchantress does her work, the native Queen is restored to life along with her whole court, and , after a Grand “Salute”, the dwarfs depart to the accompaniment of a “Farewell.”

The bulk of the tunes, as will be seen, are in true Gaelic style and easy to get up. And, in fact, there is just difficulty enough about the plot and the properties to make it worth striving after excellence, but not so much as to prevent the play being produced in the most outlandish part of the Highlands or Islands.[13]

Tha e inntinneach gu bheil seo a’ toirt slaic air Dùsgadh na Féinne oir bha MacPhàrlain air Ghrannd a chuideachadh leis an dealbh-chluich sin mar a tha mi a’ mìneachadh anns a’ chaibideil agam.[14] A bharrachd air sin ged a thathar a’ cumail a-mach an seo gu bheil an reim-chainnt nas fhasa neo nach e cainnt litreachasail air a cleachdadh chan e buileach an tul-fhìrinn a tha sin. Chanainn fhìn gu bheil seo calg-dhìreach an aghaidh dòigh-sgrìobhaidh an dà dhealbh-chluich is gu bheil Dùsgadh na Féinne ‘nas fhasa’.

Chaidh ‘dara cuid’ a chur ri Am Mosgladh Mòr agus nochd sin ann an trì iom-leabhraichean a bharrachd anns an earrach ann an 1915.[15] Tha ro-ràdh air thoiseach air an ‘dara cuid’ a dh’innseas gun robh clann-sgoile ann am Bun a’ Mhuilinn, anns na Druiminnean, sa Mhorbhairne air na bh’ air nochdadh ann an 1914 a chur air àrd-ùrlar. A rèir Chaluim MhicPhàrlain fhèin ann an 1925 b’ e ‘a very outlandish quarter’ a bh’ ann am Bun a’ Mhuilinn![16] Faodaidh e air uairean a bhith doirbh tighinn air fianais gun deach mòran a dhèanamh a-riamh le dealbhan-cluiche na cloinne is mar sin tha an ro-ràdh air leth feumail anns an dòigh sin:

The Play called “Am Mosgladh Mòr”, which appeared in the July, August and September issues of last year, was produced last winter by the children of Bunavulin School, Morvern, under the guidance and training of their teacher, Miss Harriet Stewart. It was taken up with great spirit by the children, and gave intense satisfaction to the audience of local people and strangers who came to hear it. We are glad to learn that Miss Juliet MacDonald, Cul-a’-bhaile, Fort William, is training children to produce it in that town. It is a desirable novelty, and should be encouraged by everybody who has the interests of Gaelic at heart. The author has now produced a continuation of the first part, and we have pleasure in giving an instalment in this issue. The Bunavulin children have already started to practice the songs.[17]

Tha seo cuideachd a’ toirt sealladh dhuinn air cho cudromach ’s a bha boireannaich ann a bhith a’ cur an gnìomh dealbhan-cluiche Gàidhlig agus a lethid am measg cloinn, mar a tha sgoilearachd an Dr Priscilla Scott air sealltainn dhuinn bho chionn ghoirid.[18] Bhuineadh an ‘redoubtable Harriet Stewart’ (1866-1947) do Chlach Mhanann ach ‘she learned Gaelic from scratch in Morvern and made sure that all her pupils had a thorough grounding in the language. Out of her own pocket she took her pupils to provincial and national mods, where her tiny school featured prominently in the prize lists.’[19] B’ e Gàidhlig a’ chiad chànan a bh’ aig Juliet MacDonald (1848-1942) agus ’s i a bha a’ riochdachadh Loch Abair air a’ Chomunn Ghàidhealach.[20]

Rinneadh ath-dheasachadh agus lùghdachadh air Am Mosgladh Mhòr agus ann an 1925 bhuannaich e an dara duais aig a’ Mhòd ann an Grianaig agus chuireadh an dealbh-chluich a-mach an clò a-rithist mar leabhar.[21] Anns a’ bhloigh seo bho thoiseach an dealbh-chluich (tionndadh 1914) chìthear mar a tha an sgeul ga chur an cèill agus chìthear cuideachd cho follaiseach agus dìreach is a tha am meatafor aig MacPhàrlain airson suidheachadh nan Gàidheal is na Gàidhlig:

Dìcheall Dearbhag (Banoglach).- Is mairg cinneadh a tha fo mheachainn maithean a dhìobair an dualchas. Oir is dìobradh dualchais dìobradh uaisle. B’ èibhinn an t-àm ’san robh sluagh an Eilein Ghairbh fo cheannas maithean a bha dìleas do’n chrùn agus a dh’altruim beusan is beachdan an sinnsir. Ach, Och mo chreach! Thàinig Sagsa Mòruaill agus a ban-gheasadair, Sannta Nòir, agus chuir iad draoidheachd orra a thàlaidh iad bho am bànrighinn dhlighich féin gu ùmhlachd a dheanamh dhithse. Ghiùlain iad a h-airm; chog iad fo a brataich; is shìolaidh iad as gu mòr. Ghabh Sannta Nòir fàth air ar Bànrighin, agus chuir si fo gheasaibh i.

Tha Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908) agus Am Mosgladh Mòr (1914-15) againn mar fhianais air an oidhirp a rinn sgrìobhadairean aire na cloinne a thogail gu cor na Gàidhealtachd is na Gàidhlig aig àm an Athbheothachaidh Cheiltich. Bha moitif a’ ghaisgich na chadal cho lìonmhor sna bliadhnaichean sin am measg muinntir an Athbheothachaidh gum faodadh dùil a bhith againn gun nochdadh e air an àrd-urlar Gàidhlig do chloinn. Bhathas a’ strì ri lagachadh na Gàidhlig ann an iomadh sgìre den Ghàidhealtachd agus le measgachadh de cheòl is fealla-dhà air an àrd-ùrlar bha an dà ùghdar seo an dòchas gun èisteadh a’ chlann san luchd-amhairc ris an teachdaireachd. ’S e teachdaireachd a bh’ ann a a bha a’ cur impidh air cloinn gum bu chòir dhaibh dùsgadh à suain na Beurla gus a’ Ghàidhlig agus cultar na Gàidhlig a chur an toiseach.

Mu Shìm

Tha an Dr Sìm Innes air a bhith na òraidiche ann an Ceiltis is Gàidhlig aig Oilthigh Ghlaschu bho 2013 far am bi e a’ teagasg agus a’ rannsachadh litreachas na Gàidhlig le ùidh shònraichte ann an iasad agus sgaoileadh bheachdan agus cultar.

 

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Awakening and Arising: Katherine Whyte Grant, Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908) & Malcom MacFarlane, Am Mosgladh Mòr (1914-15)

During the Celtic Revival in Scotland it was common for Scottish Gaels, and Scots more generally, to be portrayed as awakening, or on the verge of awakening, sometimes they were told it was high time for them to awaken. Lachlan Macbean (1853-1931) delivered a lecture to The Gaelic Society of Inverness in 1896 entitled ‘The Mission of the Celt’. Macbean, who had been raised in Kiltarlity, was the editor of The Fifeshire Advertiser. He was also a Gaelic writer and translator.[22] His lecture started with an historical overview of the Revival:

The Gael suddenly awoke to the alarming fact that his native tongue, which more than anything else was the distinguishing mark of his tribe, was dying out before the tongue of the Southron. The thought touched his sensitive and melancholy nature as nothing else could…. Having now glanced over this heaving tide of new Celtic life which has overflowed the fields of literature, music, customs, and social progress, it remains for us to ask, What of the future? The Gael are awakening to consciousness, and as a man when he becomes conscious, first asks, What am I? Whence am I? What am I here for? So the Gael must ask, What are we? What are our capabilities? What is our destiny? … Well, now, we have looked at these three curents of our times – the rising tide of Celtic revival among ourselves, the flow of Celtic sentiment and ideas in English life and literature, and the stream of Celtic blood into city life – and we should now be in a position to guess what is the mission and destiny of the Celt. It is surely by infusion of ideas and transfusion of blood to leaven modern civilization with it’s own awakening spirit.[23]

It wasn’t just that the Gaels and other Scots were asleep; they were in fact in a spellbound slumber:

Until quite lately, we seem to have been a race under some evil enchantment. We were ashamed of our Gaelic, ashamed of being Highlanders… but all this is changed; the spell is broken.[24]

The notion of the ‘sleeping hero’ was a powerful commonplace among Celtic Revival writers and artists. It arises from a motif and folklore tale-type that was, and is, ubiquitous in many countries (AT766).[25] In Scotland it inspired works such as ‘The Awakening of Cuchullin’ (1895), a mural painted by John Duncan at Ramsay Lodge in Edinburgh, and the words of Patrick Geddes who spoke of characters such as Merlin all awaiting the awakening such that  ‘in some young soul here and there the spirit of the hero and the poet may awaken… such is our Scottish and Celtic Renascence.’[26] In Wales in was Arthur who was to rise again to improve the lot of Wales and the Welsh language.[27] In Ireland the ‘sleeping hero’ tale was told about numerous historical and fictional characters and we can easily source its use at the time of the Revival.[28] For instance, in the first issue of the periodical Ulad in 1904 Joseph Campbell (1879-1944) published a short story described by the Irish News at the time as a ‘propagandist parable’:

I dreamed a dream. Methought a voice spoke to me as from the clouds. It said, ‘The time is upon us!’ I looked around, fearfully, and beheld a haggard old woman before me.’… ‘The time for the heroes to ride forth,’ she said. ‘I wandered just now into that cave that pierces this hill at its foot. I saw there the heroes of the sons of Niall. Many think they are dead. They are not dead, I tell you. They are lying trance-bound, as in sleep. … ‘They are not ridden forth yet. I have not broken the ancient spell that binds them. They are biding the setting of the sun and the passing of the night. They will ride forth at the dawn.  … When I awoke again it was dawn. My face was to the rising sun. I arose joyfully, and gave the day-god salutation…. Too long have they lain trance-bound and sleeping, but now they are stirred. The spell of enchantment is broken. They are gone forth, and till the Day of the Great Judgment they may not be recalled. They shout their ancient war-cry – ‘Lámh Dearg ar uachtar! – and ride out into the morning. May the road rise to them, and to all that follow! May victory sit on the banners of the Red Hand![29]

Among Scottish Gaels the motif of the sleeping hero was most often associated with Fionn mac Cumhaill and his band of heroic warriors known as An Fhèinn. They were portrayed as sleeping in a cave, awaiting the call to rise up once more. The warriors of the Fèinn, extremely popular in written and oral Gaelic storytelling culture since the medieval period, were often understood to represent Highland Scots. As William T. Kilgour noted in 1908:

Some treat the tale symbolically, and say that an Fheinn air a h-uilinn (the Feinne on their elbows) is representative of the Gael these many years past, and that some day, whether it be on the third blast of the trump or not is indicated, but certainly some day, they will shew the world their full strength.^[30]

It is perhaps no surprise that two plays for children were written by Gaelic activists at the beginning of the twentieth century, both employing the ‘sleeping hero’ motif.

Dùsgadh na Féinne (‘The Awakening of the Fèinn’)

Tha feum air na Fianntan…

[The Fèinn are needed; the country is a deer forest;

Gaelic is dying; there are no people in the land;

Isn’t there a Gael in Scotland or a Gael abroad

who will blow the horn and awaken the Fèinn?]

Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908) was written by Katherine Whyte Grant (1845-1928).[31] She was brought up in Appin but was resident in Sydney, Austrlia when she wrote the play. I have recently completed a study of this play, to be published shortly.[32] The tale of the Fèinn warriors ‘on their elbows’ waiting to be awoken is at the heart, and in the title of this kinderspiel. It contains a number of powerful messages for the audience on the situation of Gaelic and the Highlands more generally; that an awakening is badly needed. The tale of the sleeping Fèinn appears in the play as follows:

Seumas.- Có b’ iad an Fhéinn…

 

[James.- Who were the Fèinn?

 

Donald.- A band of brave men who sacrificed

themselves and their troops in order to keep

Scotland free from her enemies.

They sacrificed themselves; their strength;

their belongings; their heart and mind for the

whole of their lives to the good of the land

and to boost the population.

Many of them fell in battles; some died;

until the only remaining one was the

very elderly Ossian

who reached a great age. He went to the grave

lamenting mournfully for his companions.

Finally, he was interred at the end along with the rest.

 

Sheila.- How? Were they all buried together?

 

Donald.- In death they are as they were in life;

They lie prostrated in a cave and that cave

is hidden among the rocks;

and no one knows today where it is located.

 

Colin.- Is that the whole story?

 

Donald.- O, it’s not:

The good of the country was always close to their hearts;

Their love for their people was so determined and so vivid

that the Fèinn didn’t die as others do;

They are not dead; they are only sleeping;

When the time of need and difficulty comes again

to Scotland each one of the warriors will rise up again

to assist and fight the enemy.

 

Euan.- How will they know when the time is right?

 

Donald.- When the time comes, someone will

awaken them. Once upon a time there was a blacksmith

who knew where the Fèinn lay. He made himself

a key that opened the rock for him. He went in and

saw the heroes in a slumber;

each in his armour, with a shield and sword.

Some of them had a lyre at their side.

Near to them lay a large horn.

He who would have enough strong breath and

enough courage to put the great whistle to his

lips and blow perfectly and strongly three times

would call the heroes to their feet,

and they would come out to fight the enemy of Scotland

as in olden times.

The blacksmith put the horn to his lips

and blew it. The cave was filled with noise,

and the Fèinn opened their eyes.

The second time he blew as hard as he could.

The warriors rose up, all of a sudden, onto their elbows.

With a start the blacksmith threw the horn down;

He hightailed it out of the door while the Fèinn cried

with grief, ‘You’ve left us worse than you found us,’

The stone door closed after the blacksmith

and the coward threw the key behind him;

Ever since that day no one knows in which rock the

Fèinn sleep. They could even be in that rock over there!]

The play ends with the child characters promising to be faithful to the Gaelic language and its associated culture.

Am Mosgladh Mòr (‘The Great Arising’)

Malcolm MacFarlane, or ‘Friend of the Children’, (1853-1931) wrote Am Mosgladh Mòr. The first part was first published in the periodical The Celtic Monthly in the summer of 1914.[33] It was accompanied with a ‘Word from the Editor’ of that periodical (Annie M. MacKay?) who explained that this children’s play deals with a queen in an enchanted sleep and not the Fèinn:

We have pleasure in substituting for our usual Musical Page in the issues for this month and the two following ones, this new departure in the promotion of the Gaelic Language cause. Time after time it has been proved that the bounty-fed efforts of the societies are of little avail in instituting Gaelic progressiveness. Somehow, the wrong men are put in charge – the talker where the worker should be; the dreamer where the practical man of knowledge should be. And so the weary round of trotting out old things goes on – almost every one seeking notoriety at the cheapest rate, and sometimes stealing it from those who worked before them for the love of the thing. The present is one more proof of the failure of the societies and the success of unaided private effort.

There is a Children’s Gaelic Musical Play in existence, called “Dusgadh na Feinne” – “The Awakening of the Fians.” It is by Mrs K. W. G. and is a creditable production of its kind. But it has failed to catch on. Two facts are against its rising in favour; it is a reproduction of real children’s play, and it has rather much literary flavour about the words. Children love better to imitate grown people in their amusements and to affect the accomplishment of achievements.

The following play differs from the other in respect of the words and music being both original and belonging equally to the plot. No attempt has been made after literary excellence. To have done so would have been a mistake.

The plot is allegorical and propagandist. It is called “The Great Awakening”, and shadows forth the denouement of the Gaelic movements, as hoped for by the enthusiast. A usurping Queen of The Rough Island has put the rightful Queen and her court under spells, and she and they lie in a cave which was once a palace, until, according to a certain prophecy, dwarfs return to the island and become the instruments for breaking those spells. The dwarfs land, meet the usurping Queen, overcome her guard, and expel her. They send a party throughout the island to discover the disenchantress who is fated to dissolve the spells under which the native Queen lies. They bring in seven alleged disenchantresses, and after a process of weeding out the false ones and burning their remedies in a cauldron – a bh’ aig an Fhéinn mar thùisear: that the Fians had as an incense burner – the proper one is discovered. The leader of the dwarfs, by the use of cabalistic signs and words, opens the cave, the disenchantress does her work, the native Queen is restored to life along with her whole court, and, after a Grand “Salute”, the dwarfs depart to the accompaniment of a “Farewell.”

The bulk of the tunes, as will be seen, are in true Gaelic style and easy to get up. And, in fact, there is just difficulty enough about the plot and the properties to make it worth striving after excellence, but not so much as to prevent the play being produced in the most outlandish part of the Highlands or Islands.[34]

It is noteworthy that this editorial found fault with Dùsgadh na Féinne since MacFarlane himself had helped Grant with that play as is discussed in my forthcoming chapter.[35] Furthermore, the claim that the language register in MacFarlane’s work is somehow easier, or not as literary, is not quite the whole truth. Indeed, I would contend that in fact the opposite is true and that of the two Dùsgadh na Féinne is in ‘easier’ language.

A ‘second part’ was subsequently published in the spring of 1915.[36] This second part was given an introduction that tells us that schoolchildren in Bonnavoulin, Drimnin, Morvern had performed the first part when it appeared in 1914. According to MacFarlane himself, writing in 1925, Bonnavoulin was indeed ‘a very outlandish quarter’![37] It can be difficult to access evidence for the reception and performance of Gaelic children’s plays from this period and therefore this introduction to the second part is particularly useful:

The Play called “Am Mosgladh Mòr”, which appeared in the July, August and September issues of last year, was produced last winter by the children of Bunavulin School, Morvern, under the guidance and training of their teacher, Miss Harriet Stewart. It was taken up with great spirit by the children, and gave intense satisfaction to the audience of local people and strangers who came to hear it. We are glad to learn that Miss Juliet MacDonald, Cul-a’-bhaile, Fort William, is training children to produce it in that town. It is a desirable novelty, and should be encouraged by everybody who has the interests of Gaelic at heart. The author has now produced a continuation of the first part, and we have pleasure in giving an instalment in this issue. The Bunavulin children have already started to practice the songs.[38]

This also gives us an insight into the central role played by women in encouraging Gaelic plays and other such pursuits among children, as the scholarship of Dr Priscilla Scott has recently taught us.[39] The ‘redoubtable Harriet Stewart’ (1866-1947) was from Clackmannan but ‘she learned Gaelic from scratch in Morvern and made sure that all her pupils had a thorough grounding in the language. Out of her own pocket she took her pupils to provincial and national mods, where her tiny school featured prominently in the prize lists’[40] Juliet MacDonald (1848-1942) spoke Gaelic as her language and represented Lochaber on the Executive of An Comunn Gàidhealach.[41]

Am Mosgladh Mòr was reduced down in it’s second edition, having won second prize at the Mòd in Greenock in 1925 after which it came out as a standalone publication.[42] In this excerpt from the beginning of the play (the earlier 1914 version) we see how the premise was set up and we also see how thinly veiled the metaphor for the interaction between English and Gaelic is:

Dìcheall Dearbhag (Maidservant).- Woe to the race who are ruled by the will of nobles who have forsaken their heritage. Since to forsake heritage is to forsake nobility. Delightful was the time when the people of Eilean Garbh (‘Rugged Island’) were led by nobles who were loyal to the crown and maintained the ways and ideas of their forefathers. But, oh my! Sagsa Mòruaill (‘Saxa GreatPride’) and her sorceress Sannta Nòir (‘Greed ForGold’) arrived and put them under a spell that tempted them away from their own rightful queen to pay homage to her. They bore arms for her, fighting under her flag; and they were greatly reduced. Sannta Nòir ambushed our queen, and placed a spell on her.

The two Gaelic children’s plays Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908) and Am Mosgladh Mòr (1914-15) bear witness to the efforts of Gaelic writers trying to raise the consciousness of Highland children to the situation of Gaelic and the Highlands during the Celtic Revival period. The motif of the sleeping hero was so common among Celtic Revivalists in those years that we might have expected to see it appear on the Gaelic children’s stage. The weakening of the Gaelic language was an ongoing issue in many regions of the Highlands and with a bit of music and entertainment on stage these two authors hoped that children would hear the message. The plays exhorted young Gaels to awaken from the slumber of English and to fight the cause of Gaelic and its culture.

About Sìm

Dr Sìm Innes has been a leturer in Cetic and Gaelic at the University of Glasgow since 2013 where he teaches and researches Scottish Gaelic literature, with a particular focus on borrowing and transmission of ideas and culture.

 

[1] T. M. Murchison, ‘Lachlan Macbean’, ann an D. Thomson (deas.), The Companion to Gaelic Scotland (Oxford: Blackwell Reference, 1983), d.160.

[2] L. Macbean, ‘The Mission of the Celt’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness 21 (1896-97), dd. 56-69 aig dd. 57-66.

[3] Macbean, ‘The Mission of the Celt’, d. 69.

[4] Antti Aarne & Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1981, 2nd revision), d. 265.

[5] Patrick Geddes, ‘The Scots Renascence’, Edinburgh Review 88 (1992), dd. 17-23 aig dd. 22-23.

[6] Geraint Evans, ‘Modernist Arthur: The Welsh Revival’, ann an Helen Fulton (deas.), A Companion to Arthurian Literature (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), dd. 434-448.

[7] Cuideachd ‘King in the Mountain’ neo ‘Sleeping Army’. Airson sgrùdadh air seo ann an Èirinn faicibh D. Ó hÓgáin, ‘An É an tAm Fós É?’, Béaloideas, 42/44 (1974 – 1976), dd. 213-308 agus ‘Has the Time Come?’ (MLSIT 8009): The Barbarossa Legend in Ireland and Its Historical Background’, Béaloideas 59 (1991), dd. 197-207.

[8] Seosamh MacCathmhaoil, ‘The Sleepers of Aileach=Neid’, Ulad 1 (November 1904), 4-6. Airson lèirmheas an Irish News faicibh Marnie Hay, ‘Explaining Uladh: cultural nationalism in Ulster’, ann an B.T. FitzSimon & J. H. Murphy (deas.), The Irish Revival Reappraised (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2004), dd. 119-31 aig d. 126.

[9] W.T. Kilgour, Lochaber in War and Peace (1908), dd. 125-126.

[10] Gheibhear e air loidhne aig https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100740808

[11] Sìm Innes, ‘Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908): Katherine Whyte Grant’s Scottish Gaelic kinderspiel’, ann an Sharon Arbuthnot, Síle Ní Mhurchú, Geraldine Parsons (deas.), Proceedings of the 2nd International Finn Cycle Conference (ri thighinn 2018).

[12] Malcolm MacFarlane, ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 22:7 (July 1914), dd. 136-39; 22:8 (August 1914), dd. 156-58; 22:9 (September 1914), dd. 171-74.

[13] A. M. MacKay, ‘Editor’s Page: Gaelic Musical Play for Children’, The Celtic Monthly 22:7 (July 1914), d. 130.

[14] Sìm Innes, ‘Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908)’.

[15] [Malcom MacFarlane], ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 23:3 (March 1915), dd. 54-57; 23:4 (April 1915), dd. 74-77; 23:5 (May 1915), dd. 82-86.

[16] Malcolm MacFarlane, ‘Half a Century of Vocal Gaelic Music’, TGSI 32 (1929), dd. 251-272 aig d. 271, a rèir MhicPhàrlain thog iad £8 a dh’ionnsaidh a’ Chogaidh aig an àm.

[17] [Malcom MacFarlane], ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 23 (1915), d. 54.

[18] Priscilla Scott Scott, Priscilla, ‘With heart and voice ever devoted to the cause’: women in the Gaelic Movement, 1886–1914’ (PhD, University of Edinburgh, 2013), dd. 92-94 air Harriet Stewart.

[19] David Clement, ‘William Ferguson: Tales and Traditions from a Morvern Gaelic Speaker’, Tocher 9 (1973), dd. 18-25 aig d.19.

[20] Scott, ‘With heart and voice’, d.37 agus d. 89. Airson beagan air Juliet agus a teaghlach faicibh Somerled MacMillan, ‘A Letter from D. C. MacPherson to Juliet MacDonald, 1879’, Scottish Gaelic Studies 11 (1968), dd. 237-47.

[21] Gheibhear e air loidhne an seo: http://digital.nls.uk/an-comunn-gaidhealach/archive/122770759

[22] T. M. Murchison, ‘Lachlan Macbean’, in D. Thomson (ed.), The Companion to Gaelic Scotland (Oxford: Blackwell Reference, 1983), p.160.

[23] L. Macbean, ‘The Mission of the Celt’, Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness 21 (1896-97), pp. 56-69 at pp. 57-66.

[24] Macbean, ‘The Mission of the Celt’, p. 69.

[25] Antti Aarne & Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1981, 2nd revision), p. 265.

[26] Patrick Geddes, ‘The Scots Renascence’, Edinburgh Review 88 (1992), pp.17-23 at pp. 22-23.

[27] Geraint Evans, ‘Modernist Arthur: The Welsh Revival’, in Helen Fulton (ed.), A Companion to Arthurian Literature (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), pp. 434-448.

[28] Also referred to as ‘King in the Mountain’ or ‘Sleeping Army’. For studies of this tale type in Ireland see D. Ó hÓgáin, ‘An É an tAm Fós É?’, Béaloideas, 42/44 (1974 – 1976), pp. 213-308 and ‘Has the Time Come?’ (MLSIT 8009): The Barbarossa Legend in Ireland and Its Historical Background’, Béaloideas 59 (1991), pp. 197-207.

[29] Seosamh MacCathmhaoil, ‘The Sleepers of Aileach=Neid’, Ulad 1 (November 1904), pp. 4-6. For the quote from The Irish News see Marnie Hay, ‘Explaining Uladh: cultural nationalism in Ulster’, in B.T. FitzSimon & J. H. Murphy (eds), The Irish Revival Reappraised (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2004), pp. 119-31 at p. 126.

[30] W.T. Kilgour, Lochaber in War and Peace (1908), pp. 125-126.

[31] It can be accessed online at https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100740808

[32] Sìm Innes, ‘Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908): Katherine Whyte Grant’s Scottish Gaelic kinderspiel’, in Sharon Arbuthnot, Síle Ní Mhurchú, Geraldine Parsons (eds), Proceedings of the 2nd International Finn Cycle Conference (forthcoming 2018).

[33] Malcolm MacFarlane, ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 22:7 (July 1914), pp. 136-39; 22:8 (August 1914), pp. 156-58; 22:9 (September 1914), pp. 171-74.

[34] A. M. MacKay, ‘Editor’s Page: Gaelic Musical Play for Children’, The Celtic Monthly 22:7 (July 1914), p. 130.

[35] Sìm Innes, ‘Dùsgadh na Féinne (1908)’.

[36] [Malcom MacFarlane], ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 23:3 (March 1915), pp. 54-57; 23:4 (April 1915), pp. 74-77; 23:5 (May 1915), pp. 82-86.

[37] Malcolm MacFarlane, ‘Half a Century of Vocal Gaelic Music’, TGSI 32 (1929), pp. 251-272 at p. 271, a rèir MhicPhàrlain thog iad £8 a dh’ionnsaidh a’ Chogaidh aig an àm.

[38] [Malcom MacFarlane], ‘Am Mosgladh Mòr’, The Celtic Monthly 23 (1915), p. 54.

[39] Priscilla Scott Scott, Priscilla, ‘With heart and voice ever devoted to the cause’: women in the Gaelic Movement, 1886–1914’ (PhD, University of Edinburgh, 2013), pp. 92-94 on Harriet Stewart.

[40] David Clement, ‘William Ferguson: Tales and Traditions from a Morvern Gaelic Speaker’, Tocher 9 (1973), pp.18-25 at p.19.

[41] Scott, ‘With heart and voice’, p.37 and p. 89. For a little detail on Juliet and her family background see Somerled MacMillan, ‘A Letter from D. C. MacPherson to Juliet MacDonald, 1879’, Scottish Gaelic Studies 11 (1968), pp. 237-47.

[42] It can be accessed online here http://digital.nls.uk/an-comunn-gaidhealach/archive/122770759

Oct 20, 2017

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