17 Back Again

My apologies for the long silence. I became detached from the Blog, and don't expect any help from Head Office.I am in the process of helping the National Archives sort out the Crewlists of the Merchant Navy during the First World War. I have uncovered Murdo Macdonald who, I think was the uncle of Finlay J Macdonald. 

Isn't this a super photo? The Maclean branch of the family with beautiful great aunt Isabella on the right. She bears a certain resemblance to Aunt Ina and Uncle John.

And my Dad with his handsome sons, Neil, Ian and Donnie.
See you all, soon!
Chirstymac

16.3 Cladh Hallan

Cladh Hallan

16.2 Of Stone Circles and Presbyterians





Foreword.
Please note that this is a carry on from 16.1. This has turned into an ambitious little project, and it takes me days to get a few paragraphs sorted. I don't really want to put anything up that isn't as accurate as I can make it. And I'm fast reaching the end of my shelf life!!! In addition, the hovering husband wants me to get on with HIS blog.

The Bodies in the Bogs
The earliest written information on Celtic religion comes from the Romans, and should be treated with care, as they and the Celts had  very nasty relationship. Julius Caesar writes disapprovingly of their habit of human sacrifice. He should talk! What went on in the Coliseum in Rome to entertain the masses was a lot worse.
In addition to gladiators and wild animals, killed in various artistic ways, we had hapless Christians exterminated by brutes both animal and human.

I  hope we've all moved on.

 



Lindow Man, As Found                                                           Lindow Man, Reconstruction of Head

Tolland man, Reconstruction of Head

All over Northern Europe, bodies have been turning up in peat bogs. Peat has preserved them, even to the contents of their stomachs. They have been dated to up to hundreds of years before the Christian era. A feature common to these bog bodies is that they have all been murdered, some quite brutally. Lindow Man, found in Cheshire in 1984 had two massive blows to the back of the head, was strangled, and his throat cut. He seems to have been of a privileged caste, as his fingernails were neat, and his beard properly cut. He had eaten a flatbread of barley and wheat, cooked on a fire made of heather. Unusually, for a bog body, he has a beard.

Tolland Man, As Found

In the stomachs of bog people, there is usually a meal of seeds and grains. Some, like Tollund  man are naked, but some have clothes, of wool and skin. Both men and women have been found, one of the women wearing a long caftanlike woollen dress.                                    

Why were they killed in this fashion, in spring, and put into bogs? When we marry Ol' Julie's comments about human sacrifice to the violent deaths suffered by these people, it seems he might not have been far off the mark.

Some say that the bodies might have been sacrifices to the Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring, Eostre. But, there were only Celts in Cheshire in 2BCE to 119CE. Was he one of those illegal immigrants to Britain, bringing his tribe and his funny religion with him?

Others think they had something to do with the old festival of Beltaine, or Samhain, round about the first of May. Whatever! All I remember about the first of May in the Outer Hebrides is that if you washed your face in the morning dew, you would acquire beauty. Forget it. It didn't work

What, you may ask, has this to do with the Hebrides?

We must now take a trip to South Uist, home to the Clanranald MacDonalds, and origin of Flora Macdonald and of Etienne Macdonald, Duke of Otranto.

 Not only was Flora Macdonald born here, but Macdonald of Clanranald is said to have introduced the potato in 1743. This rapidly became the staple food of the Islands, along with oatmeal and fish. In the potato famine of the 1840's this had dire results, but not nearly as bad as in Ireland where thousands died. Emigration, which had already started, increased and continued to increase. The Uist people say there is scarcely a place name in Uist which is not repeated in America, Canada and Australia

Full of surprises, the Hebrides, including more bodies, and the remains of a VERY old village.

At Cladh Hallan, in 2001, The University of Sheffield unearthed the bodies of a man and a woman, the former dating from 1500 BCE, the woman from 1300, buried in one grave. The man turned out to be men, with the torso and limbs of one, the skull of a second, and the jawbone of a third.

The bodies had been buried in a bog, then removed and displayed in a warm, dry place. Then they seem to have been buried together. Two of the woman's incisor teeth had been knocked out and placed in her hand. Again, there is speculation.

Cladh Hallan

Skeletons have been found under some of the houses. Curiously, the same thing has been found in South Africa. It was the practice to bury the body of a chief under a hut floor. Perhaps  in Uist as in Africa, ancestors were held to have great powers, especially if they were chiefs, whereas most people were cremated.

What we do know about the people of ancient Uist is that they grew barley, kept cows and sheep, ate venison and veal, and very little fish.

And perhaps the value of the bog bodies is that they open a window to the past, tell us what our ancestors looked like, what they wore and what they believed.

Perhaps they are the people who built the stone circles. Modern scholarship thinks they had nothing to do with the Druids.

I just like to think the Hebrides are not on the fringe, but in the thick of historical research.

The University of Sheffield has a nice site for those who are interested in detail. Google up Cladach Hallan. The British Museum is also good for bog people.

P.S I try to verify that the photographs I use are not copyright. Some great people have given me hundreds for free. If I have infringed, it is unintentional.
16.3 A nice site for those interested in what we have been doing.
16.4 Will have a short bit on stone circles and we will get to the nitty gritty of Celtic christianity.

16.1 Of Stone Circles and Presbyterians

Constant reminder! Please note that I'm not writing a history book but a wee blog to entertain the family, many of whose children want to travel in the Hebrides and want a bit of background knowledge. Hence the number of pics and family snaps.
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A friend of mine from Montagu, Western Cape, tackled the Outer Hebrides in February. The average temperature in Montagu in February is in the 90's, so I had some doubts about her sanity.

"I visited the Standing Stones at Callanish, "she said. I found it odd that they were surrounded by houses. I thought they would be in an isolated place."

Standing Stones, Callanish

Personally, I think that a church miles from its congregation might have had a very small one, before the era of the combustion engine. Mind you, my grandfather when offered a lift when he was walking the three miles from Northton to his church in Leverburgh, refused.

"What are legs for if not for walking?"

He was in his nineties at the time.
But I digress (Again!!!)

The only thing we know for certain is that the stones must have been of huge importance to the community. The labour and time used to carve and set them must have been enormous. The stones for Stonehenge were brought from Wales, by people power, proving that our ancestors may have been illiterate, but they knew their physics.

And there are standing stones all over Europe, although the Romans did their best to wipe out local religions. There are many in the Hebrides, the Thrushel Stone being the most impressive, once you get past Callanish.


Thrushel Stone
Near Barvas, Lewis



There are many legends about it, one that it is the gravestone of a Scandinavian princess. but I am highly suspicious of all stories Celtic. It all started when I walked into our local library in Montagu, darkest Africa, and our friendly librarian, the same nut who visited the Hebrides in February, said, with a funny look in her eye, "There's a new book out on Celtic Civilisation."



And there it was! Dun Carloway, right on the cover, and a much better photograph than our happy snaps.

Dun Carloway, Interior

Why all the pics? you will notice I have captioned them. Dun Carloway is an example of a fortified dwelling, possibly of a person of standing in the community. Built in the 1st Century BCE, it was last inhabited about 1300 CE, according to radio carbon dating. The whole extended family -and the animals at times- would have slept there. (Personal privacy and separate bedrooms were not a feature of the lives of our ancestors.)

It is a stunning example of drystone walling, and has lasted for two thousand years. Excavations in 1971 have revealed that pottery was probably made on the site.

What I found amazing was the staircase inside the walls, the economic use of space, and the skill of the builders. When we visited Carloway, which is not far from Callanish, there was an informative board about the building, snapped by Len. This has now been superseded by the display in the Visitor Centre.

Inner Staircase, Dun Carloway





Dun Carloway
by Len
The staircase runs between the double walls





Dun Carloway
Also by Len





Don't try to read this! I am just inserting it to show how hard the conservationists try to get it right and inform the public.











Dun Carloway is a no- miss monument, even if, with stunning lack of sensitivity, the local authorities have allowed  the building of a modern house which dominates the scene. I suppose the owners are making a statement, and can deal with the baffled fury of the conservationists.

But why all this? How does this connect with my friend the librarian and the book on Celtic Civilisation?

The wonderful picture of Dun Carloway was captioned as "An Ancient Celtic Temple"

Nuff said. The author was pouring out the usual junk about the Celts, with magic trees, fey priests sailing about in boats the size of a baby's bathtub and Coptic connections.And, according to some of our more screwy transatlantic cousins, Columba was really a Baptist.

People make big money out of the Celtic connections. It has given us a bit of an identity crisis. We Fringe Celts have always known who we are, but people have been trying to make us into something different, mainly, I think, for financial reasons.

I had to tread carefully on this subject. Where could I find the truth, not only about Celtic civilisation, but about the religious aspect?

Acting on the old Hebridean principle, I decided to ask the neighbours- well -the neighbour. Big Al is not only enormous, but he has the contents of an average library crammed into his house. Born in Zululand, he received quite some education at Durban Boys' High, and is an expert on many things. So I took my pencil and paper, and disturbed his cricket, rugby, athletics, or whatever South African team he was following on the telly.

Big Al
At Len's 80th
Check the Shirt

"Tell me something about Celtic civilisation, " I commanded.

"Ask me a question," he said.

"What about the Druids?"

"We don't really know very much about them."

"What was  Celtic Christianity?"

"Well, Celtic Christians were basically Catholics."

I could hear my Free Church ancestors turning in their graves.

"To  learn the truth, you must have access to primary sources," he said, so I followed him into his study, received a pile of books, with brief comments on the reliability of each and was turfed out to do the reading which has kept this blog out of the ether for an extra week.

There are no free lunches with Big Al.

So I have been introduced to A Church History of Scotland, by JHS Burleigh, and The Quest for Celtic Christianity, by Donald E Meek, a native of the island of Tiree, a noted scholar, and on no one's fringe.

And here's a connection. Too many years ago to think of, my grandad's brother, Captain John Macdonald married the delightful Elizabeth Lamont from the island of Tiree. Their daughter, my dad's beloved cousin, Lizzie or Leezie (depending on who you listen to), married Captain John Mackinnon of Tiree, commodore of Macbraynes. He used to let us wear his cap when he visited us in Tarbert.

He had great stories of the old days in the islands, and a love for the Gaelic language.




Wedding of Captain John Mackinnon and Lizzie Lamont Macdonald
Glasgow, 1936



I don't intend to bore you with a scholarly analysis of the subject, but make a few observations, and connect to family history.

Thanks, Big Al. What is this thing you have for dressing up?

Rev Dr Alan Maker
Past Moderator of the Presbyterian Church of Southern Africa
(In his Princeton Robes)

4. A Bit of History!

Now that we have the MacDonalds comfortably(?) installed in Drinishader, let's pop in something about the history of the islands and the clan. The islands have been inhabited for up to 15 000 years, and one tradition states that the very first settlers came up from Spain. There is a Celtic corner of Spain called Galicia. The jury is still out on that one, but the DNA has some evidence of it.

There is also the tradition that the Celts who inhabited Britain came from the great plains of Europe, and brought the horse with them. What we do know is that the Romans, who managed to conquer the Southern Celts, built a huge wall across the North of England and declared that civilisation ended there.

Meanwhile, our sunworshipping ancestors were erecting stone circles, and living on venison and seafood. Their pottery has been dug up near the Teampull at Northton. There are traces of neolithic(Stone Age) and Bronze Age  settlements, and of agriculture, but lots of work has to be done before we get the whole picture.

Some of our ancestors came from Munster, Cork and Kerry and added their bit. they also brought their brand of Christianity, along with St Columba. One of their tribes was the Scots.

Celts are we? As kids we all thought so. Round about 700CE the Vikings hit the Hebrides, massacring monks, stealing anything that glittered and basically taking over. They only left after Alexander III  Beat them at the Battle of Largs in 1263.  By then they had transferred their DNA to their descendants, so we are Scandinavian Celts.   And our chiefs are descended from Somerled and  from  Dalriadic Celts. that's why the place names are Norwegian and the language Gaelic.

View From Drinishader

But what are the Macdonalds doing in the tough, stony Bays instead of lovely Northton? 

And even pretty Stockinish with its colourful fishing boats is a bit of a shock when we all know Grandpa

was a crofter.
                                      





                                                                                                                                             

2. The Northton House

 The House at Northton

Northton is a straggling village in South Harris. No 37 is about halfway down, on the right side on the way to the machair and the beach. It is a solid single storey. According to my Uncle Neil, my grandfather built it himself, using the government grant. he added ten pounds of his own money, so it was called the "Ten Pound House". The first person to sleep in it in 1926 was Uncle Neil. The house contained some magnificent antique furniture, including grandad's brass bed and some lovely marble wash stands. A pew from St Clement's church in Rodil  stood in the small sitting room. From the kitchen window there are views of the lagoon and the mountains, and a lovely wild rose bloomed at the side of the house. I have great memories of the house, and  my father loved it. He was born there. It was his best place.

Northton in Winter



The Boy on the Bicycle
Dad at No 37



14. On Matters Spiritual

No, it's all right. You are not about to receive a sermon. One in the family is enough -though Murdo Ewen MacDonald was not a dull preacher!

My husband Len and I visited the Hebrides some years ago, and he had a severe case of culture shock. Visiting the Church of Scotland in Tarbert was O K for me. The only difference from the all too distant past was that the service was in English. I remember that my English Mum and I were round the corner in the old days. Organs and pianos they had not, and have not. What they do have is a precentor who gives you the first few bars. Then the rest of us join in. Amazing things happen if the precentor has decided on one tune and the congregation on another.He doesn't have to be Caruso, but he does have to have perfect pitch. And the congregation belts it out very tunefully.

The psalm spooked Len. Before the advent of Benedict XVI, psalms were said, not sung, and he didn't get the tune until we were well into the third verse. The length of the sermon was also a problem. Catholics, on the whole get 7 minutes- ten if you're unlucky- and they have you in and out within the hour.

So it was that we trundled through to Stornoway to pay me back.

The Catholic church was a blast: lovely hymns, nice people and a cup of tea afterwards. "I didn't recognise any of the tunes," said my husband, which is where I found out that in any geographical area, Christians tend to sing the same tunes, sometimes to very different words.

The real fun started with the Americans. There are nice Americans, but this pair were an education. We had a second sermon on why one should NEVER leave one's handbag on the pew, because it will be stolen. Other hints and tips followed on how to deal with the criminals rampaging round the altar. Our hosts looked suitably stunned. I'd have felt very sorry for them if I hadn't known they were storing it up to imitate to friends and family for years to come.
                                                                                                                                                                The Hebrides have probably one of the lowest crime rates in the world. We had a good giggle on the way back to our lovely B & B, where two Americans shared our table. As we ploughed through our wild salmon with lots of trifle to follow, they bemoaned the lack of civilisation in the bucolic backwoods of Harris, the incomprehensible signposts (and language!).

Aware that my husband was mentally figuring out just which reaction all this junk was going to produce, I looked nicely sympathetic, storing it up to.................................

"And where are you off to this afternoon?" One asked as we rose.

"Well, I thought I'd take my husband to the Columban chapel in Northton. Nice to show him where my ancestors worshipped over a thousand years ago, before the Synod of Whitby spoiled it all."

They had to be told a bit of history, and took it in  good spirit.

Northton, looking over to Luskentyre

Lovely Northton, with the daisy road up to the chapel. It was my father's favourite spot, where he walked with my mother seventy years ago.

Well, I'll deal with the religious angle in the next breathtaking instalment.

"And where are you off to?" I asked the Americans.

Turned out his grandfather came from North Uist. They were going to spend a day there before returning to New York! I told them the natives were friendly.

The Daisy Road

Christine at the Chapel at Northton

These are happpy snaps. If anyone has better pics, please feel free to send them.

The religious history of the Islands is a very interesting one. I promise not to give you any sermons!