For most Americans, the notion of freedom enshrined in law means that one has the right to live as one sees fit though within reason. It represents a new beginning where either one is seeking out financial opportunity or to escape from persecution and oppression. For American Gaels, those of Irish and Scottish extraction, it represents a combination of all these factors. While the Irish primarily came over during the 19th century during the Great Famine, many Highland Scots came over during the 18th century settling in Virginia, New York, Georgia, and most notably North Carolina. For those looking to find a place to live where they can practice their ancestral traditions in peace, America served as a beacon of hope.
The poem “Lament of the North,” written in 1783 by Coinneach MacCoinnich, describes in detail the condition of the Highland Gaels during the time. This includes the increasing alienation between the upper echelons into anglophone society and their clanfolk, one of many consequences of the Statutes of Iona. According to MacCoinnich, their rights and traditions have been restricted to the point where emigrating to America is the only escape. The poem is written in Gàidhlig and translated into English, published in Seanchaidh na Coille by Michael Steven Newton, and stands as a fine example of Gaelic poetry written in colonial America. As we celebrate Independence Day, let’s be thankful that our forefathers came over here to escape oppression and remember their traditions that they worked to safeguard for the next generation.
Gàidhlig
Is mi ’g amharc le dìcheall
Gum bheil mulad air m’ inntinn is pràmh;
Is mi bhith sealltainn mun cuairt domh
Is mi faicinn na tuath air an t-snàmh;
Ma tha cuid diubh ni ’bhuannachd
Tha cuid eile nach buannaich an tràigh;
Gum bheil móran diubh ’briseadh
Is chan ionghnadh leam idir mar thà.
Chan ionghnadh leam idir
Gar an dèanadh iad piseach no stàth,
On là dh’inntrinn an saoghal
Cha robh ’m fearann cho daor is tha i ’n-dràst’;
Tha ’n Taobh Tuath air a leadairt
O dh’inntrinn an greadadh seo th’ ann;
Thug iad uath’ an cuid daoine
Is iad nas moth’ ann an saothair gach là.
Is iad nas moth’ ann an saothair
’S iad na h-uaislean a dhaoraich a’ mhàil;
Dh’fhalbh truas o na daoine
Is tha fuaralachd a’ taomadh ’na àit’;
Cha sheas facal duin’ uasail,
Is dona ’n teist tha ri luaidh orra ’n-dràst’;
’S ann tha fìrinn is ceartas
Na linne seo an itean nan geàdh.
Fìrinn is ceartas
Chaidh iad clì o chionn fhada ’s an àit’;
Tha sannt agus mì-rùn
Cho pailt ’s nach téid dìth air gu bràth;
Dh’fhalbh gaol o gach duine
Is bochd a’ ghaoir th’ aig a’ chumant gach là;
Tha na h-uaislean ’gan spealadh,
’S iad ’ga mhun’ ann an Lunainn an àigh.
’S iomadh fear a chaidh ’Lunainn
Is a chaith a chuid uile gun stàth;
Nuair a thigeadh iad dhachaigh,
Gun cuireadh iad sac air a’ mhàg;
Is iad cho sanntach gu tarraing
Ri coin a bhiodh tamall gun tràth
Is a’ chuid a dh’fhuirich aig baile,
Tha iad cho lùbach is cho carach ri càch.
Tha iad cho lùbach is cho carach,
Is adhbhair cùraim do’n talamh an-dràst’
Gum bheil breitheanais Dhé oirnn,
Ge b’e b’ urrainn a leughadh le dàn;
Tha mi ’faicinn is a’ léirsinn
Luchd-seasamh na cléire ’dol cam,
Is iad an aghaidh a chéile
’G am bu chòir a bhith teumach le gràdh.
Chuir gràdh rinn a chùl-thaobh
Is tha uaislean ar dùthcha cho crost’;
Iad a’ caitheamh cho stròdhail
Na tha milleadh is a’ leònadh nam bochd;
A’ toirt uath’ an cuid stòrais
Gar an cuir iad dheth móran mu seach;
Is air a’ mheud is gun cruinnich iad fhéin deth,
Cha bhi beannachd Mhic Dhé ann am pac.
Cha bhi beannachd Mhic Dhé ann
Is cha dèan E bonn feuma le tlachd
Aig a’ mheud-sa tha ’shaothair
’Ga thional aig daoine fo’n t-sac;
Cha toir iad an déirce
Do na bochdan, ged théid iad a-steach;
Is adhbhar mulaid ri éisteachd
Na th’ agam ri leughadh d’an lochd.
Is olc an naidheachd da-rìreabh
Tha air uaislean na tìre seo nis;
Chuir iad bac’ air an t-sionnach
Is mur feairrde sinn fhéin e, cha mhist’;
Ma bhios gunn’ air mo ghiùlain
Their iad uile gur diùlannach mis’,
Is fiù is coileach nan stùc-bheann –
Chan fheud mi mo shùil a chur ris.
Chan fheud sinn bhith spòrsail:
Tha smachd aig Rìgh Deòrs’ oirnn gu léir;
Chuir e achdachan mór’ oirnn
’S e ’gam meudachadh oirnn gach ré;
Tha e fuilteach is cha dheòin leis,
Is e ’toirt dhaoine gach lò uainn gu ’fheum;
Is e ’toirt uainn ar cuid stòrais
Is e ’ga chaitheamh ri gòraich is bu bheud.
Is e ’ga chaitheamh ri gòraich –
Is léir a bhuil ’s an Roinn Eòrpa gu léir –
Ri Aimearaga còmh-strì
Is nach fhaigh e ri bheò iad da-réir;
On tha ceartas is còir ac’
Tha am Freastal a’ cur leò anns gach ceum
Agus chum e iad dìleas
On a’ cheud là dh’inntrinn an streup.
Ach a-nis on a ghéill e
Is gun d’ rinn iad an réite an àrd,
Mo dhòigh, nach miste sinn fhéin e,
Is gun leasaich e fhéin sinn ’nar call
Aig bochdad na dùthcha
Is iomadh neach a chuir cùl ris an àit’;
Tha ’m peice-min air a mhionaid
Fichead sgillinn is a trì ’s an taigh-gheàird.
Is iomadh neach tha mun cuairt duinn
Air a ghlacadh le cruadal ’s an àm,
Agus neach tha air faontradh
Bha ’s a’ bharail nach aomadh iad ann;
Chuir a bhlianas iad suarach
Is chan urrainn iad gluasad ach mall
Is iad a’ ceannach am beò-shlàint’
Is iad air acras an còmhnaidh ’na cheann.
Chan ioghnadh sinne bhith falamh
Is a liuthad uair bha sinn a’ gearan gun fhàth
Nuair bha pailteas mun cuairt duinn
Gun robh sinn ro uaibhreach air fàs;
Chuir a’ bhliadhna seo cruaidh
Ris gach neach nach do bhuannaich am barr,
Is chuir i sac air an guaillibh
’Chumas cudthrom mun cuairt doibh gu bràth.
Chan eil feum anns a’ ghearan,
’S ann as còir dhuinn bhith toilicht’ a ghnàth
Leis na bhuilicheas Dia oirnn
On as E am fear-riaghlaidh as àird’;
’S ann as dòcha sinn dìreadh
Ged a tha sinn cho ìosal air làr;
Is ged [bha] sinn air ar bualadh
’S E ’cheanglas sinn suas ann an gràdh.
Ach nam falbhadh a’ chabhag-s’,
Ged a tha sinn cho falamh is a tha,
Nuair thig barr ás an talamh
Tha mi an dùil nach bi ’ghainne ’gar cràdh;
Ge cruaidh oirnn an t-Earrach
Tha na h-uaislean gun ghainne ’nan dàil;
Cha bhi cuimhn’ air mu Nollaig
Tha mi an dùil gum bi ’chomaidh nas fhearr.
Ach ma dh’éireas sinn idir,
Is ma théid sinn air phiseach gu bràth,
Bidh sinn treun ann am misneach
Is théid na ceudan a thiotadh air sàil;
Bidh ar n-uaislean gun chùram
Is an cuid fearainn gun sùgh is e fàs;
Mas e fìor na thuirt mise
Gum bi biadh aig na big a nì tàmh.
Chan ionghnadh sinn bhith gun stòras
Is a liuthad nì a tha ’n tòir oirnn gach là;
Cha bhi coinneamh no còmhdhail
Nach bi caitheamh gu leòr air an sgàth,
Ge b’ e aighear no sòlas
No mulad no bròn bhios ’nan dàil;
Gach tì chluinneas an t-òran,
Bithidh iad uile ag òl mo dheoch-slàint’.
Is mithich dhuinne bhith gluasad
Fhad is tha beagan mun cuairt do ar làmh;
Mun toir iad uainn e
Is mum bi ’bhochdainn an dual do ar clann;
Is olc air mhath le’r cuid uaislean
Gheibh sinn fhathast làmh an uachdar gun taing,
Is théid sinn a-nunn air na cuaintibh
Do dh’Aimearaga shuairce seo thall.
English
(1-8) As I look steadfastly, my mind is troubled with sadness and dejection; as I gaze around me, I see the peasantry adrift; if some of them will gain, others will not reach shore; many of them are broken, the situation does not surprise me at all.
(9-16) It will not surprise me if they do not recover or recoup; land has never been so expensive, ever since the world began; the North has been massacred, ever since this current oppression began; [the landlords] took their people from [the lands] and each day their toil is increased.
(17-24) Their toil increases: it is the nobles who have raised the rents; people no longer feel pity, and frigidity is taking its place; a noble’s word no longer stands and currently it carries an ill reputation; the truth and justice of this era are to be found in the goose’s quill.
(25-32) Truth and justice, they were perverted long ago in this place; greed and ill-will are so plentiful that they will never run out; kindness has departed from everyone and the cry of the commoners is wretched every day; the nobles are mowing them down, as they learn to do in luxurious London.
(33-40) Many men went to London and spent their wealth uselessly; when they returned home, they placed a burden on the farmland; they are as greedy to extract it as a dog who has fasted for awhile; and those who stayed home, they are as wily and deceitful as the rest.
(41-48) They are wily and deceitful, and it is now a cause for the land to be concerned; God’s judgement is upon us, whomever may understand it in verse; I see and comprehend the defenders of the clergy becoming crooked as they fight against each other when they ought to be lovingly diligent.
(49-56) Love has turned its back on us and the nobles of our land are so disagreeable, spending so recklessly all that ruins and injures the poor; taking their assets away from them, even if they had not put much aside; and with all of it that they have accumulated, the blessing of God’s son will not be theirs.
(57-64) There will not be the blessing of God’s son and He will not gladly help one bit given all of the toil that is accumulating as people’s burden; the nobles will not distribute charity to the poor, even if they come inside; it is a cause of grief to hear all that I have to read about their faults.
(65-72) The current news about the nobles of this land is atrocious; they have outlawed the fox, and if we ourselves are not the better for it, we are none the worse; if I carry a gun, they will all say that I am a champion, when I cannot even aim at the moor grouse.
(73-80) We have no enjoyment, King George has dominated us completely; he has enacted overwhelming laws against us and he is constantly augmenting them; he is violent and he is not good-intentioned, as he takes people from us every day for his own purposes and takes away our wealth, and spends it foolishly, and it is wrong.
(81-88) He spends it foolishly and the effect is clear throughout Europe as he struggles with America and he will never be able to make them comply; since they are on the side of truth and justice, Fortune sides with them in every step and it has kept them faithful from the first day that the contention began.
(89-96) But now that he has yielded and they have come to a resolution, indeed, we are the worse of it and he will make it to our own loss through the poverty of the country and the many people who have turned their backs on the place; the weight-measure at this moment is twenty-three pence in the guard house.
(97-104) There are many around us who have been seized by hardship at this time, and many who have gone astray who had believed that they would not be able to grow old there; the insufficiency has left them worthless and they can only move slowly as they earn their livelihood but are always hungry nevertheless.
(105-12) It is no surprise that we are destitute since we often complained needlessly when we were surrounded by plentitude, for we had grown too arrogant; this year has given hardship to all but the upper classes and it has put a burden on their shoulders that will keep them encumbered forever.
(113-120) There is no use in complaining, contentment ought to be our habit with all that God has bestowed upon us, as He is the highest sovereign; it is most likely that we will overcome even though we have been brought down to the ground; and although we were struck, he is the one who will unite us with love.
(121-128) But if this hustle would depart, even if we are as destitute as we are, when the harvest grows from the soil, I expect that scarcity will not afflict us; although the spring is hard on us, the nobles do not experience scarcity; it won’t be remembered by Christmas, as I expect that our shared food will be better.
(129-136) But if we prevail at all, and if our condition ever improves, we will be strongly self-confident and hundreds will go overseas immediately; our nobles will be heedless as their lands wither and empty; if what I have said is true, the lesser ranks who stay behind will have food to share.
(137-144) It is no surprise that we have no wealth given everything that is constantly hounding us; there is never an assembly or forum that does not involve expenditure, despite whatever joy or solace, grief or sadness accompanies it; everyone who hears this song will drink a toast to my health.
(145-152) It is time for us to be going while we have at least a little wealth; before they take it away from us and before our children will be heir to poverty; despite the opinion of the nobles, we will gain the upper hand regardless, and we will traverse the oceans to arrive in bountiful America over yonder.