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BIOG
Betty MacDougall
The Census Lists of 1851 and 1861 show the entry of a Janet MacLean, pauper and poetess living at Grishipol with her half-sister Mary MacDonald, seamstress. Janet was baptised in 1786, the illegitimate child of Lachlan MacLean, Arinagour and Mury Johnston, Arnabosd.
Her name appears on the Poor List as early as 1821 when she was only 35 so she may have had some physical disability as able-bodied people did not qualify for assistance from the Poor Box dispensed by the Kirk Session. She was apparently remarkable in several ways, fond of her tobacco pipe, composed poetry and firmly believed that the fairies (sithichean) still lived in Dun Buide
"A phiob tombaca! Leig a mach do cho,
Bearr lean thu na caora.
Nuair bu daora an t'fheoil
Ged air an sraid bu motha Lunnan,
Gheibhinn lan mo bhuig d'on phiob."
Oh, tobacco pipe! Puff out your smoke
That I'd rather have than mutton.
When the meat was so dear
Even on the greatest London street,
I would get my fill of pleasure from the pipe.
She was reputed to have the gift of prophecy and also a wonderful memory. Mr. Fraser, the Free Church minister said that if the Bible were lost, Biog would be able to put it together again. Biog was her nickname, indicating something birdlike in her appearance or mannerisms. She called herself "Smeorach Chlann Ghill-eathain" - the Clan MacLean Thrush. She had always stayed on the north side of the island and when visiting the west end, liked to have company with her when passing the "chancy" places associated with the fairies.
One bright, cold day she was making her way through the bents and came upon a sparrow, faint from cold and hunger. She took it home with her and, on the way, with the sparrow warming in her shawl, put these verses together : -
"Co gheall dhuit, a bhigein bhig,
Nach leig do bhigeil dhuit cead ruith?
Co gheall dhuit, a bhigein bhig
Nach leig do bhigeil dhachaidh thu?
Chan e meud do ghuibein fhuair,
No do dha sgeith bheaga, luath;
Ach tha thu laidir, daingeann, cruaidh,
’S thu feitheamh bhuait na macharach
Ach ma gheallas tu bhith seinn,
Gheibh thu ceis air am bi loinn,
Cha gabh thu roimb 'n t-seabhaig sgaoim,
'S cha chuir an oidche ghaillionn ort!
Na biodh curam ort mu d'lon,
Fhad's a bhios 'nam neadan stor
Air chor sam bith (ma bheir thu ceol)
Gun toil' an "Smeorach" t-aire dhuit
Who threatened you, little dicky-bird,
That you would run chirping no more?
Who threatened you, little dicky-bird,
That you wouldn't go chirping home?
It is not the size of your cold beak
Nor your two small, swift wings
But you are strong, brave and hardy
And wanting to stay on the machairs
If you promise to sing
You will get some tit-bits,
The hawk will not frighten you
Nor the stormy night harm you.
No need to worry about your food
As long as I have a little nest well stored
At any rate, if you will make music
The "Thrush" will look after you!
When the new Poor Law Regulations came into force, as one of the Registered Poor, ]anet was housed, had her thatching attended to and her peats cut and carted to the door. There was no resident doctor on the island at that time but when Dr. Buchanan of Baugh, Tiree was appointed Medical Officer to the Poor in Coll, as well as the fortnightly allotment of oatmeal, he prescribed an issue of tea and sugar. Bedding and clothing were renewed as required.
]anet died in 1865 and her entry in the register reads, "pauper, formerly a poetes. |
