Oíche Sheanchais (1898)
Micí Mac Gabhann, from his experiences during the Yukon Gold Rush
In the remote and icy expanse of the Klondike in Yukon, also known as 'Tír an Óir' or the Land of Gold, a remarkable treasure thrived amid the glittering promise of wealth – a lively community of Irish speakers whose voices echoed with the timeless songs, music, and stories of Gaelic Ireland. As the Irish grappled with the enduring effects of colonization in their homeland, they became participants in the colonization of Canada, shaping its changing cultural landscape. Against the backdrop of frozen Canadian nights, Mac Gabhann's accounts unveil a clandestine world of Irish speakers in the distant Canadian territories. Despite the vast geographical gulf separating them from their native Gaelic homelands, the captivating traditions of Seanchaí storytelling artistry, vividly recounted by Mac Gabhann, quietly infused work camps and homes, concealed behind closed doors and escaping the notice of the predominantly English- and French-Canadian populations.
“Bhí na céadta Éireannach le chéile ann - ó achan chearn den tír, ó Chorcaigh go Dún na nGall. Bhí na cábáin bheaga a raibh muid inár gcónaí iontu uilig le chéile agus théimis thart san oíche a dh’áirneál chuig na chéile, go díreach mar a dhéanfaimis fá bhaile… Bhí dream amuigh inár gcuideachta a raibh ceol breá acu agus bhí seanchaithe maithe ann fosta. Théimis isteach sna cábáin oícheannaí fada geimhridh i ndiaidh dhul ó sholas dó, shuíodh scaifte againn thart fán tine… Thosaíodh an seanchas ansin... scéalta fá na daoine beaga, fá thaibhsí, fá chróchnáidí (nó tórramh sí), fá laochra móra na hÉireann ó am na Craobh Rua agus na Féinne, agus achan chineál scéalta dar hinseadh ariamh sa bhaile.
Tá cuimhne mhaith agam ar oíche amháin gheimhridh a bhí muid inár suí thart sa chábán s’againne. Bhí muid scaifte mór ann – daoine as achan chearn d’Éirinn. Tá mé ag fágáil go raibh scór uilig istigh agus déarfainn nach raibh os cionn ceathrair den scór sin nach raibh tuigbheáil acu ar an Ghaeilg, agus Gaeilg a bhíthear a labhairt… Bhí fear mór ard agus fear mór ginn - Jimí Ó Céileachair as Ciarraí - sa chuideachta agus bhíodh sé ag inse dúinn go minic fán dóigh ar bhain sé Dawson City amach an chéad uair. Sleamhnán, agus madaidh mhóra á tharraingt, an gléas marcaíochta a bhí aige féin agus ag cúpla fear eile a bhí leis. D’éirigh an bia iontacht gann orthu agus b’éigean dóibh, má b’fhíor dósan, na rubaill a bhaint de na madaidh, ceann i ndiaidh an chinn eile, agus a mbruith agus a n-ithe … Mar ba ghnách, bhí muid ag caint agus ag constráil fá achan sort ar an tsaol agus fá dheireadh tráchtadh ar eallach mhaith bainne.
Bhí fear eile as uachtar na hÉireann i láthair … gur de mhuintir Shúilleabháin é agus measaim gur Chiarraíoch é fosta … Dúirt fear ínteacht dá raibh sa láthair, nuair a bhíthear ag trácht ar an eallach, go gcuala sé gur i gCiarraí agus sa taobh sin tíre a bhí an t-eallach bainne ab fhearr a bhí in Éirinn. Dúirt Mac Uí Shúilleabháin gurbh í sin an fhírinne agus bhuail sé air a dh’inse scéil dúinn fán ábhar a raibh an t-eallach comh maith ansin. Dúirt sé gur siocair an Ghlas Ghaibhleanna (nó an Ghlas Ghaibhneach, mar thug sé féin uirthi) a bheith ina máthair ag iomlán an eallaigh a bhí an scéal amhlaidh. Bhí seanchas mór fada aige fán Ghlas Ghaibhleanna agus fána cuid tréithe agus shílfeá ar an scéal a d’inis sé gur leo féin uilig í sa taobh ó dheas den tír.
Bhí fear de chlainn Mhic Fhionnaíle - Aodh Mac Fhionnaíle as Machaire Rabhartaigh - inár gcuideachta agus thug sé éisteacht maith do scéal Uí Shúilleabháin go raibh sé críochnaithe. Bhí sé caite ar fhad a thaoibhe ar an urlár i rith an ama agus a lámh faoina leiceann, agus nuair a bhí deireadh ráite ag an tSúilleabhánach d’éirigh sé aniar agus d’iarr sé ar an mhuintir a bhí istigh gan focal amháin den rud a bhí siad i ndiaidh a chluinstin a chreidbheáil. Dúirt sé nár fhág an Ghlas Ghaibhleanna paróiste Chloch Cheannfhaola ariamh agus thosaigh seisean ar a scéal féin … d’inis sé fán fhear ar leis an Ghlas Ghaibhleanna an chéad lá ariamh, Ceannfhaola Bhaile an Easa; d’inis sé fá Bhalor na súile nimhe i dToraigh, fán dóigh ar shantaigh sé an bhó iontach bhainne seo agus fán dóigh a bhfuair sé í fá dheireadh, go dtug i dtír i dToraigh í in áit a dtugtar Port na Glaise air go dtí an lá inniu. D’inis sé ansin fán tairngreacht a rinneadh nach gcuirfí Balor chun báis choíche go gcuireadh a ua féin chun báis é, fán aon níon amháin a bhí aige a choinnigh sé faoi ghlas istigh ar an Tor Mhór ar an cheann thoir den oileán, agus fán dóigh ar bhain Ceannfhaola sásamh na Glaise as fá dheireadh. Is amhlaidh a d’éirigh leis a dhul isteach chuig ‘níon Bhaloir sa phríosún agus é cóirithe in éideadh cailín óig. Rugadh triúr mac don ‘níon agus, siúd agus go dearn’ Balor iarraidh a mbáitheadh, tháinig fear amháin acu slán agus ba é sin an t-ua a sháith bior dearg sa tsúil nimhe agus a chuir Balor chun báis. Idir an dá linn, ar ndóigh, bhí Balor i ndiaidh a theacht suas le Ceannfhaola i mBaile an Easa. Leag sé a cheann ar cloich atá le feiceáil thoir ansin go fóill agus ar an chloich a rinne sé a dhícheannadh. Tá Cloch Cheannfhaola mar ainm ar an chloich agus ar an pharóiste uilig ón lá sin go dtí an lá inniu.
Sin é an scéal a d’inis Aodh Mac Fhionnaíle dúinn amuigh sa chábán i Klondike an oíche udaí … Bhí fear beag as Gleann Choluim Cille ina shuí i gcoirnéal an chábáin i rith na hoíche - fear arbh ainm dó Séamas Ó Beirn nach raibh óch ná mairg ann - agus nuair a bhí achan duine réidh thosaigh seisean as a chonlán féin gur inis sé scéal mór fada a chuala sé féin fán Ghlas Ghaibhleanna. De réir an scéil s’aigesean, ba é Dia a chuir anuas as an spéir í chuig na daoine bochta. Cha raibh sí i bhfad acu gur éirigh siad urraim róshantach agus gur mhaith leo níos mó ná a sáith bainne a fháil uaithi. Is é an rud a rinne sí ansin imeacht léi amach chun na farraige aon lá amháin agus chan fhacthas aon amharc uirthi ó shin.”
“There were hundreds of Irish people together there – from every corner of the country, from Cork to Donegal. The little cabins in which we were all living were together and we would go out late-night visiting each other, exactly as was done at home… There was a group in our company that played fine music and there were good traditional storytellers there as well. We would go into the cabins on long winter nights after the sunset, a crowd of us would sit around about the fire… The traditional lore started then… stories about the Little People, about ghosts, about phantom funerals (or Fairy funerals), about the great heroes of Ireland from the time of the Red Branch and the Fenians, and every kind of stories that were ever told at home.
I remember well one winter night that we were sitting about in the cabin we had. We were a great crowd there – people from every corner of Ireland. I’m guessing that there was twenty people all together inside and I would say there wasn’t more than four people of the twenty who didn’t understand Irish, and Irish it was that was spoken … There was a big, tall man and a great, funny man – Jimí Ó Céileachair from Kerry – in the company and he was telling us often about the manner in which he reached Dawson City the first time. A sled, and big dogs pulling it, was the vehicle he himself and a couple of other men with him had. The food became very scarce and they had to, if he was being truthful, take the tails from the dogs, one after another one, and to boil them and eat them… As was usual, we were talking and arguing about every sort of thing in the world and eventually good dairy cattle were discussed.
There was another man from the north of Ireland present … that was of the Súileabháin people and I think that he was a Kerryman also … Some man that was present said, when they were discussing the cattle, that he heard that it was in Kerry and in that side of the county that the best dairy cattle were in Ireland. The young man of the Súileabháin said that it was the truth and he started to tell a story to us about the reason the cattle were so good there. He said that the cause was that the Glas Ghaibhleanna (or the Glas Ghaibhneach, as he himself called her) was the mother of all the cattle that the story was thus. He had great, long lore about the Glas Ghaibhleanna and about her traits and you would think from the story that he told that she belonged to all of them in the south of the country.
A man of the Mac Fhionnaíle people – Aodh Mac Fhionnaíle from Machaire Rabhartaigh – was in our company and he gave a good listening to Ó Súileabháin’s story until it was finished. He was stretched out on his side on the floor during that time with his arm under his cheek, and when Ó Súileabháin had said the end he got back up and he asked the people who were inside not a single word of what they had just heard to believe. He said that the Glas Ghaibhleanna had never left the parish of Cloch Cheannfhaola and he began on his own story … He told about the man who owned the Glas Ghaibhleanna the first day ever, Ceannfhaola of Baile an Easa; he told about Balor of the Evil Eye on Tory Island, about the way he coveted this wonderful milk cow and about the way that he got her in the end, that he brought her ashore on Tory Island in a place they call Port na Glaise [the Harbour of the Grey-Cow] still today. He told then about the prophecy that was made that Balor would not ever be put to death until his own grandson would kill him, about the only daughter that he had that he kept locked inside the Great Tower on the eastern tip of the island, and about the way that Ceannfhaola got satisfaction of the Grey-Cow in the end. It’s thus that he succeeded by going into Balor’s daughter in the prison and him dressed in the clothes of a young girl. Three sons were born to the daughter, that and how Balor attempted drowning them, one man of them survived and that was the grandson that stabbed a red spike into the poisonous eye and put Balor to death. In the meantime, definitely, Balor was after coming up to Ceannfhaola in Baile an Easa. He let down his head on a stone that is to be seen in the east there still and on the stone he decapitated him. The Stone of Ceannfhaola is the name of the stone and on the entire parish from that day to today.
That’s the story that Aodh Mac Fhionnaíle told to us out in the cabin in the Klondike that night … There was a little man from Gleann Choluim Cille sitting in a corner of the cabin throughout the night – a man named Séamus Ó Beirn who was extremely quiet – and when everyone was ready he began upon his own recollection that he told a great, long story that he himself heard about the Glas Ghaibhleanna. According to the story that he had, it was God that put her down from the sky to the poor people. They didn’t have her long until they became somewhat overly greedy and that they wanted to get more than their sufficiency of milk from her. It’s the thing she did then to depart out to the ocean one day and no one has seen anything of her since then.”
Adapted from: Mac Gabhann, Micí. 2006. Rotha Mór an tSaoil. 6th ed. Indreabhán, Conamara: Cló Iar-Chonnachta. 187-189.
