The Colonsay-Canada Connection, by John W. Sheets
The full title of this essay is "National Culture of Mobility": The Colonsay-Canada Connection, and it is reproduced, with kind permission of the publishers, from "Transatlantic Studies", Will Kaufman and Heidi Slettedahl Macpherson ISBN 0 7618 17905 (University Press of America, Inc., 2000). The book can be ordered online at www.univpress.com
John Sheets has an extensive academic and personal knowledge of Colonsay, built up through some thirty years of research; he is currently preparing a list of all his publications as a reference aid to our readers. Professor Sheets asks that we add the following personal note to the on-line publication, as it would normally appear as part of the preamble to his various publications: "I acknowledge the permission of the Registrar-General for Scotland to consult documents at New Register House, Edinburgh."
Part 1, of 4 instalments.
"An eminent historian of the Transatlantic, Bernard Bailyn at Harvard University, estimates that perhaps fifty million people moved from Europe to the New World during the four centuries after 1492. First from Spain and Portugal, then from the British Isles, the Low Countries, and Scandinavia, emigrants transplanted their languages and cultures to new places where they were transformed, then transmitted, in new contexts. Our understanding of this diaspora falls somewhere between a macrocosm of numerical theory and the microcosms of family history. But the stories all started with a very personal and local decision to "leave home", whether alone or in a group, and Gaelic Scotland, more than many regions, suffered the effects of this accelerating mobility.
For the first Statistical Account of Scotland (1791-96), Rev. Francis Stewart of the Parish of Jura and Colonsay in Argyll counted "718 Souls" in 134 families living on the 15 farms of Colonsay and Oronsay islands. He complained that
in the summer of 1791, a considerable proportion of the inhabitants crossed the Atlantic. Those who remain give out that they are waiting only good accounts from their relations, and a proper opportunity … Pity it is that such numbers should bid farewell to their native country when there is so great a demand for useful citizens…
Also in the summer of 1791, King George III approved the Canada Act which partitioned Quebec into "Lower and Upper" territories, thus setting the stage for future emigrants from the Highlands and islands to settle in Ontario. Over the next century people left Colonsay and Oronsay at different times and for different reasons - opportunity, recession, famine, religion, work in Glasgow, or land in Canada. Their transatlantic stories glance at a Gaelic emigration through episodes of hope, fear, success, failure, return and, in this case, through the eyes of eminent people "left behind", like Edinburgh University's first Celtic professor, Donald Mackinnon (1839-1914) from Colonsay.
In 1805 David Wilson surveyed the islands of Colonsay and Oronsay. Their 20+ square miles contained over 8,650 "Scotch Acres", although just 1,740 (or 20%) of these were "Arable and Meadow". John McNeill (1767-1846) purchased the islands from his cousin Archibald in 1805 and quickly used his professional education in agriculture to improve his new estate. He drained meadows, rotated crops, applied fertilisers, bred black cattle and built roads, bridges, walls, quays and a parish school. By 1811 the 786 islanders held a winter stock of 1000 cattle and exported tons of kelp, barley, oats and potatoes to the Napoleonic War markets of Great Britain. The affectionately named "Old Laird" created the crofting district of small farms in "Upper and Lower Kielhattan" on Colonsay's west coast, which, to one visitor, demonstrated "the fairest specimens of the industry of these men". Unlike those on the Duke of Argyll's estates on the Ross of Mull, McNeill's tenants could (and did) subdivide and sublease their four to six rented acres to relatives and friends. But despite the laird's improvements and leniency, some individuals and families still chose to leave Colonsay and Oronsay.
In 1805 Thomas Douglas, fifth Earl of Selkirk, extolled the virtues of emigration in his Observations on the Present State of the Highlands. The next year no fewer than five emigrant ships sailed for Prince Edward Island from the "Western Highlands and Isles" and Caithness. With its 114 passengers, the Spencer of Newcastle sailed from Oban on September 22, 1806. The youngest passenger was three months old; the oldest was 78. With favourable winds, the journey might take four or five weeks; under bad weather, it could last much longer. On board were men, women and children with Colonsay surnames such as Bell, Campbell, Currie, Darroch, McEachern, McMillan, McNeill and Munn. They included young parents with their babies, baptised such seven months earlier in Colonsay's new Church of Scotland building at Scalasaig, within sight of the quay from where they would depart for Oban and the emigrant ship. In August 1808 the Clarendon of Hull also sailed from Oban, for Charlottetown. It carried enough biscuits, oatmeal, barley, meat, water and "melasses" for its crew and 188 passengers, all emigrating for "Want of Labour". Half of them came from the Duke of Argyll's estate. Prince Edward Island remained a preference for Colonsay's migrants during the first decades of the 19th century. Their presence meant others would follow and go well beyond. Meanwhile, the "Old Laird" needed workers and tenants for his estate, so Colonsay received immigrants from the adjacent islands of Islay, Jura and Mull to replace the departed emigrants. A growing population, crowded crofts, and Baptist evangelism in Mull prompted some families to seek work and worship elsewhere, but not too far away.
By 1830 the population of Upper Canada had doubled to over 200,000. Lieutenant-Governor Sir John Colborne encouraged more and more settlers from Great Britain to stem the tide of Americans into Ontario. He offered them 50 to 100 acres lots, often with no payments for three years, and by 1835 the population increased by another 100,000. In 1831, and possibly with several families from Kilmeny parish in Islay, the adult, unmarried children of Angus and Janet Mackinnon from Mull left Kilchattan and Colonsay forever. Charles and Sarah Munn with two young children accompanied Donald, Lachlan, John and Catherine Mackinnon to northeast Erin Township in Wellington County of Upper Canada, approximately thirty-five miles north of the port of "Little York", later the Toronto area. The township was surveyed in 1819, received its first settlers in 1820 and became a haven for Gaelic-speaking people from the Highlands and islands of Scotland; the court employed a "Court Interpreter" fluent in Gaelic and English. The census of 1830 recorded "75 householders" scattered on 1,154 acres of cultivated and 12,256 acres of uncultivated land. The Mackinnons soon established themselves in the frontier community. Catherine served in the house of James Leslie, later publisher of the Toronto Examiner, until she met William Trout from Erin. His father, Henry Trout, descended from London merchants, had settled there in the spring of 1822 and was appointed the first Town Clerk in 1824. The Trout family welcomed the "young Scotch girl that could not speak good fluent English" when she became William's second wife in 1833. They lived and farmed on 120 acres in "Erin and Garafraxa" townships. The land assessment of April 5, 1833 also listed Charles Munn and "Laughlin" McKinnon, each with 100 uncultivated acres near the Trouts' farm. The next year Lachlan cultivated ten of his acres and purchased two oxen and two milk cows. On December 2, 1834 he married Sarah McKinnon from nearby Esquesing Township in Halton County; her grandparents had emigrated from the Ross of Mull in 1805 to New York State. In 1838-39 Donald McKinnon received 100 acres near his brother-in-law, Charles Munn, and his brother Lachlan, who now had 30 cultivated acres, one horse, two oxen, three young cattle and four milk cows to support his growing family. The McKinnons belonged to "Other Denominations" because Lachlan had been "immersed" by the itinerant Baptist missionary, Dugald Sinclair. An early, undated history of Ontario described Lachlan McKinnon as "one of the pioneers who had a share in transforming the wilds of that region into well-tilled farm lands". His last farmhouse still stands a few miles north of Ospringe in Erin Township.
The McKinnons of Erin corresponded with their relatives in Colonsay and Mull where the traditional way of life faltered. Peace after Napoleon meant open trade and competition from the Continent for Hebridean commodities. Prices for cattle, oats and potatoes plunged; then a cheap substitute for processed kelp, used in making glass, destroyed the seaweed's value. By the mid-1830s the Highlands and islands faced shrinking markets and growing populations. For the first British household census in 1841, Colonsay and Oronsay enumerated 979 residents, or nearly 50 people per square mile. The largest district was Kilchattan with 255 people in 43 households, or nearly six people per household. The year 1846 started ominously when the widowed "Old Laird" died on February 24. The potato famine struck the west of Scotland months later and its lethal effects lingered for over a decade. With it came a new wave of departures from the Highlands and islands to the towns, cities, and points abroad."
To be continued…
A Concert in "The Loft"
Before the days of the "Old Hall", public gatherings took place in the farm lofts, particularly at Oransay and Kiloran. In the 1950s, such a gathering was witnessed and described by the popular author Alasdair Alpin MacGregor, who published his observations in "Skye and the Inner Hebrides". In fairness, the book was very different to his earlier works and may have reflected some personal unhappiness; at the time, his comments will have been hurtful, but perhaps one can laugh at them now:
"Late that evening, a concert and dance were being held at Kiloran, in the public hall, the upper, re-conditioned part of a long farm-building there. To these joint functions, by car, landrover, bicycle, or on foot, nearly everybody in the island seemed to have gone. That afternoon, the Kilmeny Choir had sailed over from Port Askaig, in Islay, to assist in the object of this double event, namely, the raising of money to establish a local sheepdog association. A bill posted prominently at Scalasaig pier already intimated that, under the auspices of the newly-formed Colonsay & Oronsay Sheep Dog Society, such a concert and dance had been arranged. "Admission 2/6. Tea 8 p.m."
As is usual in these parts, the concert was very late in beginning. By the time it did, several of the male members of the audience and of the visiting choir were certainly not without the benefit of drink. The customary hilarity therefore accompanied the proceedings throughout. As the evening wore on, this increased in volume until, at length, the visitors at the back of the hall were more audible than all the Islay choristers performing at their loudest. (A charitable report of these proceedings, published the following week in a wellknown Argyllshire newspaper, mentioned how the choir had held the attention of an appreciative audience!)
There were present many children, for whom, as usual, loud comments and interruptions provided diversion, if not also example. However, the local lads rendering solos and mouth-music in the Gaelic sustained their vocal obligations to the bitter end. The roisterous behaviour of their companions did not embarrass them in the slightest. Nor did the persistence with which certain people wandered freely among the audience during each performance, selling raffle tickets. One was invited to pay sixpence for the privilege of guessing the weight of a cake baked locally with real fresh eggs, and donated by the baker of it. Many had purchased their tickets before it occurred to someone that the public exhibition of the proposed award might at least facilitate an approximate estimate of its weight. So the cake was brought forth, and the raffle proceeded with renewed vigour. It did strike one that, having charged heavily for admission to a performance well below mediocre standards, it was a bit of a cheek to conduct, throughout the whole of the proceedings, a series of raffles and lotteries to augment a fund, the sufficiency of which, for the avowed purpose, the charge for admission must already have guaranteed. "Just taking a mean advantage of the audience!", a Glasgow visitor was heard to remark. And, as if this was not enough, a sale had to follow. Bottles of port, tins and packets of cigarettes, cheap glass receptacles of infinite variety - all donated, one presumed, by local shopkeepers and others - were put up to auction, and went at ridiculously high figures, especially when the more hilarious members of the audience got the notion that they must compete for this trinket or for that bottle. Bidding certainly became keen when the "well-oiled" took a hand in it. Two local lads seated next to me (or standing, for never did they remain in the same attitude for more than a few seconds) spent two or three pounds each in outbidding one another for various objects. Their recklessness could not but suggest to one that, the sooner public grants and subsidies to such communities were examined, the better it would be for the tax-payer.
The concert (if such it might be termed in any sense but that of the revellers acting irresponsibly in concert) did not begin until well after 9 p.m. As the tea interval, advertised for 8 p.m., approached, there was passed round the audience, about 11 o'clock, while a songster continued to unburden himself of a particularly long wail in Gaelic, a clothes-basket. Out of this everyone took a teacup - and waited. The more potent type of "celebration", for which the flimsiest of pretext provides the occasion, was already well on its way towards culmination. But the real "do" seldom begins before midnight, with the dance. By 12.30 a.m., therefore, the "fun" was in full swing at Kiloran. Throughout all this, the young children seemed mildly amused by the example of their elders. Small wonder so many of the lads in these parts succumb early to the bottle!"
In fairness, a more measured description of the contemporary scene was recorded by Rev. John Y.Clark, writing in 1955 for the 3rd Statistical Account:
"Though the population is scattered, the islanders are of a sociable nature and contrive to meet occasionally. There is a flourishing and enthusiastic branch of the Woman's Guild of the Church of Scotland, while the W.R.I. has also taken firm root in the island. An annual regatta, with children's sports, brings the parishioners together, and a recent importation from the mainland - sheep dog trials - seems to have established itself firmly in favour."