Volume Ii Part 1 (1/2)

The Modern Scottish Minstrel.

Volume II.

by Various.

INTRODUCTION

TO

The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy.[1]

The suspicion which arose in regard to the authenticity of Ossian, subsequent to his appearance in the pages of Macpherson, has unjustly excited a misgiving respecting the entire poetry of the Gael. With reference to the elder poetry of the Highlands, it has now been established[2] that at the period of the Reformation, the natives were engrossed with the lays and legends of Bards and Seanachies,[3] of which Ossian, Caoillt, and Cuchullin were the heroes. These romantic strains continued to be preserved and recited with singular veneration. They were familiar to hundreds in different districts who regarded them as relics of their ancestors, and would as soon have mingled the bones of their fathers with the dust of strangers, as ventured on the alteration of a single pa.s.sage. Many of the reciters of this elder poetry were writers of verses,[4] yet there is no instance of any attempt to alter or supersede the originals. Nor could any attempt have succeeded. There are specimens which exist, independent of those collected by Macpherson, which present a peculiarity of form, and a Homeric consistency of imagery, distinct from every other species of Gaelic poetry.

Of an uncertain era, but of a date posterior to the age of Ossian, there is a cla.s.s of compositions called _Ur-sgeula_,[5] or _new-tales_, which may be termed the productions of the sub-Ossianic period. They are largely blended with stories of dragons and other fabulous monsters; the best of these compositions being romantic memorials of the Hiberno-Celtic, or Celtic Scandinavian wars. The first translation from the Gaelic was a legend of the _Ur-sgeula_. The translator was Ierome Stone,[6] schoolmaster of Dunkeld, and the performance appeared in the _Scots Magazine_ for 1700. The author had learned from the monks the story of Bellerophon,[7] along with that of Perseus and Andromeda, and from these materials fabricated a romance in which the hero is a mythical character, who is supposed to have given name to Loch Fraoch, near Dunkeld. Belonging to the same era is the ”Aged Bard's Wish,”[8] a composition of singular elegance and pathos, and remarkable for certain allusions to the age and imagery of Ossian. This has frequently been translated. Somewhat in the Ossianic style, but of the period of the _Ur-sgeula_ are two popular pieces ent.i.tled _Mordubh_[9] and _Collath_.

Of these productions the imagery is peculiarly ill.u.s.trative of the character and habits of the ancient Gael, while they are replete with incidents of the wars which the Albyn had waged with their enemies of Scandinavia. To the same period we are disposed to a.s.sign the ”Song of the Owl,” though it has been regarded by a respectable authority[10] as of modern origin. Of a portion of this celebrated composition we subjoin a metrical translation from the pen of Mr William Sinclair.

The Bard, expelled from the dwellings of men by plunderers according to one account, by a discontented helpmate according to another, is placed in a lone out-house, where he meets an owl which he supposes himself to engage in an interchange of sentiment respecting the olden time:--

HUNTER.

O wailing owl of Strona's vale!

We wonder not thy night's repose Is mournful, when with Donegal In distant years thou first arose: O lonely bird! we wonder not, For time the strongest heart can bow, That thou should'st heave a mournful note, Or that thy sp'rit is heavy now!

OWL.

Thou truly sayest I lone abide, I lived with yonder ancient oak, Whose spreading roots strike deep and wide Amidst the moss beside the rock; And long, long years have gone at last, And thousand moons have o'er me stole, And many a race before me past, Still I am Strona's lonely owl!

HUNTER.

Now, since old age has come o'er thee, Confess, as to a priest, thy ways; And fearless tell thou unto me The glorious tales of bygone days.

OWL.

Rapine and falsehood ne'er I knew, Nor grave nor temples e'er have torn, My youthful mate still found me true-- Guiltless am I although forlorn!

I 've seen brave Britto's son, the wild, The powerful champion, Fergus, too, Gray-haired Foradden, Strona's child-- These were the heroes great and true!

HUNTER.

Thou hast well began, but tell to me, And say what further hast thou known!

E'er Donegal abode with thee, In the Fersaid these all were gone!

OWL.

Great Alexander of the spears, The mightiest chief of Albyn's race, Oft have I heard his voice in cheers From the green hill-side speed the chase; I saw him after Angus brave-- Nor less a n.o.ble warrior he-- Fersaid his home, his work he gave Unto the Mill of Altavaich.

HUNTER.

From wild Lochaber, then, the sword With war's dread inroads swept apace; Where, gloomy-brow'd and ancient bird, Was then thy secret hiding-place?