The Return of the Native
Reflections on Europe and Catholic Identity
Listen to me, as when ye heard our father
Sing long ago, the song of other shores-
Listen to me, and then in chorus gather
All your deep voices, as ye pull your oars:
CHORUS.
Fair these broad meads – these hoary woods are grand;
But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.
From the lone shieling of the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas-
Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides:
Fair these broad meads – these hoary woods are grand;
But we are exiles from our fathers’ land.
In 1772, the brig Alexander deposited 214 Scots settlers on Prince Edward Island. One of these was my nine times great grandfather, Laughlin MacKinnon, a veteran of the Battle of Culloden in 1746, that claimed both the lives of his two brothers and the last effective hopes of a restoration of the House of Stuart in the Three Kingdoms. Although he was born on the island of Eigg, his clan was based on the neighbouring Isle of Skye. He did not know it then, but before he would die at the age of 110 in 1835, he would witness the American and French Revolutions, and the Wars of Napoleon and 1812.
Even more changes would follow over the following centuries, and nine generations of Lauchlin’s descendants would be born, have children, and die – initially in Canada, and latterly in the United States. One of the last of these would this past month return to the Isle of Skye; that latter-day descendant was this writer. I am the first in my direct line to do so, and it was an experience I can never forget. Exploring the ruins of Castle Moil, the first seat of the clan, was an amazing thing. I then decided with my friends to go out to Kilmarie House, last residence of our chiefs on the island, and adjoining an old clan cemetery. To be sure, my line of the clan went out to resettle Eigg after the 1577 slaughter of that island’s Macdonalds by the MacLeods; but they would be cousins if not ancestors. On the way there, however, a flock of sheep engulfed our car, and we were forced to pull over. We noticed a roofless church surrounded by graves, and went up to explore. The structured turned out to be Kil Crissa – the first church and cemetery of our clan on the island; here were undoubted ancestors of mine stretching back to the early Middle Ages. Without a doubt, I was standing over my direct line of ancient ancestors.
It is hard to describe what I felt, save that I was proud to be part of a people who had kept the Faith despite the Protestant revolt; who had fought for Charles I under Montrose during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms; whose chief had escorted Charles II to safety after the battle of Worcester; who turned out in 1690 to fight for James II under Bonnie Dundee at Killiecrankie; and who rose for James III in 1715 and for Bonnie Prince Charlie in 1746. They joined him at the beginning when he raised his standard at Glenfinnan, marched with him all the way down to Derby, and returned with him to Culloden, where Laughlin’s two brothers met their end, and he himself barely escaped. The MacKinnon Chief gave the Prince refuge in Skye.
Now, to be honest, my DNA is only 2% Scots, and I have far more in the way of French, Irish, English, and Central European blood flowing through my veins. But that 2% had complete control of me, for the moment at least. To be honest, I have had similar moments in several other countries. Moreover, I and far from alone. From 70% to 80% percent of the American population are considered “European;” another 20% is “Hispanic,” which, despite all the indigenismo folderol is certainly European in religion and culture, and in greater or lesser amounts in DNA. Most of the 13.7'% of the population that is labelled “Black” also have European blood; moreover, despite all the talk of “African-American identity,” their religion, language, and culture are also European. This is true as well in varying degrees for the rest of the Americas, Australia, New Zealand, and elsewhere. We may not like to hear it, but almost all of us are colonials; suicide is the only way to truly decolonize one’s self. Europe is the Mother Continent, and we are her children, like it or not.
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