THE BIG BEAST OF LOCHAWE.

This animal (Beathach mòr Loch Odha) had twelve legs and was to be heard in winter time breaking the ice. Some say it was like a horse, others, like a large eel.

CHAPTER VI.
SUPERSTITIONS ABOUT ANIMALS.

Buarach-bhaoi, lamprey.—The Buarach-bhaoi (lit. wild or wizard shackle), called also Buarach na Baoi (the shackle of the furious one), was believed to be a leech or eel-like animal to be found at certain fords and in dark waters, that twisted itself like a shackle round the feet of passing horses, so that they fell and were drowned. It then sucked their blood. It had nine eyes or holes in its head and back, at which the blood it sucked came out. Hence it was called Buarach-bhaoi nan sùilean claon (the furious shackle of the squinting eyes). In Skye, it was believed the animal was to be found in Badenoch. It was said to haunt the dark waters of Loch Tummel (Tethuil, hot flood, from the impetuosity of the river), in Perthshire, and was also known on the west coast of Argyllshire. The word is translated ‘lamprey’ in dictionaries, but the description suggests the tradition of some species of gymnotus or electric eel.

Cirein Cròin, Sea Serpent.—This was the largest animal in the world, as may be inferred from a popular Caithness rhyme:

“Seven herring are a salmon’s fill,

Seven salmon are a seal’s fill,

Seven seals are a whale’s fill,

And seven whales the fill of a Cirein Cròin.”

To this is sometimes added, “seven Cirein Cròin are the fill of the big devil himself.” This immense sea-animal is also called Mial mhòr a chuain, the great beast of the ocean, cuartag mhòr a chuain, the great whirlpool of the ocean, and uile-bhéisd a chuain, the monster of the ocean. It was originally a whirlpool, or the sea-snake of the Edda, that encircled the whole world.

Gigelorum.—The Giolcam-daoram, or Gigelorum, is the smallest of all animals. It makes its nest in the mite’s ear and that is all that is known about it.

Lavellan.—This animal is peculiar to the north, where it is said to be able to hurt cattle from a distance of forty yards: “Lavellan, animal in Cathanesia frequens, in aquis degit, capite mustelae sylvestri simile, ejusdemque coloris, bestia est. Halitu Bestiis nocet. Remedium autem est, si de aqua bibant in quâ ejus caput coctum est.” (Sibbald’s Scot. Ill., lib. 3, fol. 11.) Pennant, when at Ausdale, Langwell, Caithness-shire, says: “I inquired here after the Lavellan, which, from description, I suspect to be the water shrew mouse. The country people have a notion that it is noxious to cattle; they preserve the skin, and, as a cure for their sick beasts, give them the water in which it has been dipt. I believe it to be the same animal which, in Sutherland, is called the water mole.” It is also mentioned by Rob Donn, the Sutherland bard, in his satirical song on “Mac Rorie’s Breeches”: “Let him not go away from the houses, to moss or wood, lest the Lavellan come and smite him.”

Bernicle Goose, Cadhan.—In the Hebrides, as in England, the Bernicle Goose was believed to grow from the thoracic worm, attaching itself to floating wood that has been some time in the water, often so closely as to hide the surface of the log. Calum na Cròige, a native of Croig in Mull, who went about the country some thirty or forty years ago, the delight of youngsters by his extraordinary tales of personal adventures and of wonders he had seen, and the energy with which, sitting astride on a stool, he raised with their assistance the anchor, hoisted sail, and performed other nautical feats, told that in the Indian seas, he and a comrade jumped overboard to swim to land. They swam for a week before reaching shore, but the water was so warm they felt no inconvenience. The loveliest music Calum ever heard was that made by Bernicle Geese as they emerged from barnacles that grew on the soles of his feet!

Eels (Easgunn).—It is still a very common belief in the Highlands that eels grow from horse hairs. In a village of advanced opinions in Argyllshire, the following story was heard from a person who evidently believed it:

“In the island of Harris, in a time of scarcity, a person went out for fish, and succeeded only in getting eels. These animals are not eaten in the Highlands and his wife would not taste them. The man himself ate several. By and by he went mad, and his wife had to go for succour to a party of Englishmen, who had a shooting lodge near. On arriving with loaded guns, the sportsmen found the eel-eater in the fields fighting a horse. He was so violent that they had to shoot him. On inquiry it turned out that the cause of his madness and fighting the horse was that the eels he had eaten had grown from horse hairs!”

Whale.—The round-headed porpoises, or caaing whales (mucun bearraich, lit. dog-fish pigs), derive their Gaelic name from being supposed to grow from dog-fish. An overgrown dog-fish, still retaining its own shape, is called Burraghlas.

Herring.—The food of the Herring is said to consist of crustacea and small fishes, but there is ordinarily so little appearance of food in their stomach that an easier explanation has been found in saying, they live on the foam they make with their own tails! A door-keeper at Dowart Castle is said to have successfully warned a M‘Kinnon from Skye of the dangers awaiting him at the banquet to which he had been invited, by asking him if they were getting any herring in the north at present, and then praising the herring as a royal fish (iasg righ) that never was caught by its mouthful of food or drink (air a bhalgum no air a ghreim). On hearing this remark M‘Kinnon turned on his heel and made his escape.

Flounder.—According to Sutherland tradition, the wry mouth of the flounders (Leòbag, as it is called in the north) arose from its making faces at the rock-cod. A judgment (which children, who make faces, are liable to) came upon it, and its mouth remains as it then twisted it. In Tiree and Iona the distortion is said to have been caused by St. Columba. Colum-Kil met a shoal of flounders and asked:

“Is this a removal, flounder?”

“Yes it is, Colum-Kil crooked legs,” said the flounder.

“If I have crooked legs,” said St. Columba, “may you have a crooked mouth,” and so the flounder has a wry mouth to this day.

Lobster.—The three animals that dart quickest and farthest in the sea, according to a popular and perhaps truthful rhyme, are the lobster, mackerel, and seal. “The dart of lobster, the dart of mackerel, and the dart of seal; and though far the lobster’s dart, farther is the mackerel’s dart, and though far the mackerel’s dart, farther is the seal’s dart.”

Serpents.—A serpent, whenever encountered, ought to be killed. Otherwise, the encounter will prove an omen of evil. The head should be completely smashed (air a spleatradh), and removed to a distance from the rest of the body. Unless this is done, the serpent will again come alive. The tail, unless deprived of animation, will join the body, and the head becomes a beithis, the largest and most deadly kind of serpent.[63] A person stung by one should rush to the nearest water. Unless he reaches it before the serpent, which also makes straight for it, he will die from the wound.

Another cure for the sting is water in which the head of another serpent has been put. There was a man in Applecross who cured epilepsy by water in which he kept a living serpent. The patient was not to see the water. Farquhar, the physician, obtained his skill in the healing art from being the first to taste the juice of a white serpent. He was a native of Tongue, in Sutherlandshire, and on one occasion was met by a stranger, who asked him where he got the walking-stick he held in his hand. The stranger further got him to go to the root of the tree from which the stick had been cut, take a white serpent from a hole at its foot and boil it. He was to give the juice without touching it to the stranger. Farquhar happened to touch the mess with his finger, and it being very hot, he thrust his finger in his mouth. From that moment he acquired his unrivalled skill as a physician, and the juice lost its virtue.

A week previous to St. Bridget’s Day (1st February, O.S.) the serpents are obliged to leave their holes under ground, and if the ground is then covered with snow they perish. In the popular rhyme relating to the subject the serpent in Argyllshire and Perthshire is called the ‘daughter of Edward,’ but in Skye an rìbhinn, the damsel. In both cases the name is probably a mere euphemism suggested by the rhyme to avoid giving unnecessary offence to the venomous creature.

Rats and Mice.—When a place is infested to a troublesome extent with rats or mice, and all other means of getting rid of the pests have failed, the object can be accomplished by composing a song, advising them to go away, telling them where to go, and what road to take, the danger awaiting them where they are, and the plenty awaiting them in their new quarters. This song is called the Rat (or Mouse) Satire, and if well composed the vermin forthwith take their departure.

When the islet of Calv (an Calbh, the inner door), which lies across the mouth of Tobermory harbour, was let in small holdings, the rats at one time became so numerous that the tenants subscribed sixpence a-piece, and sent for Iain Pholchrain to Morven, to come and satirize the rats away. He came and made a long ode, in which he told the rats to go away peaceably, and take care not to lose themselves in the wood. He told them what houses to call at, and what houses (those of the bard’s own friends) to avoid, and the plenty and welcome stores—butter and cheese, and meal—to be got at their destination. It is said that after this there was an observable decrease in the number of rats in the island!

An Ardnamurchan man, pestered with mice, in strong language tried to get them away, and all who have had experience of the annoyance, will heartily join him in his wishes. The poet, with whips and switches, gathers the mice in a meadow near a stream, and sends a number of the drollest characters in the district to herd them, and ‘old men, strong men, striplings, and honest matronly women, with potato beetles,’ to chase them. At last he gets them on board a boat at Eabar an ròin, and sends them to sea.

“The sea roaring boisterously,

The ocean heaving and weltering,

The tearing sound of sails splitting,

The creaking of the keel breaking,

The bilge water through the hull splashing

Like an old horse neighing.”

And leaving them in this evil plight, the song ceases.

Cormorant.—This bird passes through three stages of existence; it is “seven years a scart (pelecanus cristatus), seven years a speckled loon (colymbus arcticus), and seven years a cormorant (pelecanus carbo)” (Seachd bliadhna na sgarbh, seachd bliadhna na learg, ’s seachd bliadhna na bhallaire bodhain).

Magpie.—The pyet (piaghaid) is called ‘the messenger of the Campbells’ (Gille ruith nan Caimbeulach), a name also given (for what reason the writer has not been able to ascertain) to a person who is ‘garrulous, lying, interfering with everbody’ (gobach, briagach, ’g obair air na h-uile duine). It is said of a meddling chatterbox, “What a messenger of the Campbells you have become!” It is ‘little happiness’ (beagan sonais) for any one to kill a magpie.

Beetles.—The Ceardalan or dung-beetle is spared by boys when met with, but the daolag or clock is mercilessly killed. The reason assigned is, that when the former met those who came to seize the person of our Saviour, and was asked how long since he had passed, it said, “twenty days ago yesterday” (fhichead latha gus an dé, chaidh Mac Dhé seachad), but the latter said, “it was only yesterday” (an dé, an dé chaidh Mac Dhé seachad). Hence, when boys hammer the life out of a ‘clock,’ they keep repeating with savage unction, “The day before yesterday, wretch” (air a bhò ’n dé, bhradag), or a rhyme:

“Remember yesterday, yesterday,

Remember yesterday, wretch,

Remember yesterday, yesterday,

That let not the Son of God pass.”

Emmet (Caora-Chòsag).—This animal is shaken between the palms of the hand and laid upon the table. It is believed by boys to indicate the weather of the following day, by lighting on its back or belly and the alacrity with which it moves away.

Skip-Jack.—This insect (Gobhachan, i.e. little smith or Buail a Chnag, give a knock), when laid on its back emits a loud crack in springing to its proper position. It is a favourite amusement of boys when they get hold of one to make it go through this performance. In Skye, when watching it preparing to skip, they say,

“Strike with your hammer, little smith.

Or I will strike your head.”[64]

CHAPTER VII.
MISCELLANEOUS SUPERSTITIONS.

Gisvagun, Eapagun, Upagun.—Of the same class with magical charms and incantations, that is, of no avail to produce the results with which they are credited, were various minor observances and practices, to which importance was attached as lucky or unlucky, and ominous of, if not conducive to, future good or ill. In some cases these observances became mere customs, followed without heed to their significance or efficacy; and many were known to, and believed in only by, the very superstitious. So far as causing or leading to the result ascribed to them was concerned, they were, ‘like the Sunday plant,’ without good or harm, but a mind swayed by trifling erroneous beliefs of the kind is like a room filled with cobwebs. Superstition shuts out the light, makes the mind unhealthy, and fills it with groundless anxieties.

The Right-Hand Turn (Deiseal).—This was the most important of all the observances. The rule is “Deiseal (i.e. the right-hand turn) for everything,” and consists in doing all things with a motion corresponding to the course of the sun, or from left to right. This is the manner in which screw-nails are driven, and is common with many for no reason but its convenience. Old men in the Highlands were very particular about it. The coffin was taken deiseal about the grave, when about to be lowered; boats were turned to sea according to it, and drams are given to the present day to a company. When putting a straw rope on a house or corn-stack, if the assistant went tuaitheal (i.e. against the course of the sun), the old man was ready to come down and thrash him. On coming to a house the visitor should go round it deiseal to secure luck in the object of his visit. After milking a cow the dairy-maid should strike it deiseal with the shackle, saying “out and home” (mach ’us dachaigh). This secures its safe return. The word is from deas, right-hand, and iul, direction, and of itself contains no allusion to the sun.

Rising and Dressing.—It is unfortunate to rise out of bed on one’s left side. It is a common saying when evil befalls a person, who seems to himself to have rushed to meet it, “I did not rise on my right hand to-day.”[65]

Water in which eggs have been boiled or washed should not be used for washing the hands or face. It is also a common saying when mischance befalls a person through his own stupidity, “I believe egg-water was put over me.”

When done washing himself a person should spit in the water, otherwise if the same water should be used by another for a like purpose, there will be danger of quarrelling with him before long.

Clothes.—When a person puts on a new suit it is customary to wish him luck of it: “May you enjoy and wear it.” A man should be always the first to do this, the tailor, if he has the good sense. It is unlucky if a woman be the first to say it, and prudent women delay their congratulations and good wishes till they are satisfied some male friend has spoken first. It is less unfortunate if the woman has had a male child.

If a person wearing a dress dyed with crotal, a species of lichen, be drowned, his body will never be found. This belief prevails in the north, and there the home-made dress indicated, which is of a reddish-brown colour, is frequently seen.

Houses and Lands.—There should be placed below the foundation of every house a cat’s claws, a man’s nails, and a cow’s hoofs, and silver under the door-post. These will prove omens of the luck to attend the house. If an outgoing tenant leaves the two former below the door it is unfortunate for the incoming tenant, as his cattle will die.

An expectant occupier, or claimant, will secure to himself possession of land by burning upon it a little straw. This straw was called ‘a possession wisp’ (Sop seilbhe). If, for instance, there were two claimants to land and one of them burnt a ‘possession wisp’ on it, he might go about his business with his mind easy as to the result of the lawsuit. Or, if a tenant ran in debt and had to leave his farm, another, who had a promise of the holding, came and burnt a ‘possession wisp,’ no evil or debt of those formerly attaching to it would then follow the holding.

Baking.—In baking oatmeal cakes there is a little meal left on the table after the last cake is sprinkled previous to being fired. This remnant should not be thrown away or returned to the meal chest, but be kneaded between the palms into a little cake, to be given to one of the children. This little bannock was the Bonnach Fallaid, called also Siantachan a chlàir (the charmer of the board), to which in olden times housewives attached so much importance. Unless it was made the meal lost its substance, and the bread of that baking would not be lasting (baan). On putting a hole through it with the forefinger, as already explained, it was given to children, and placed beside women in childbed, to keep the Fairies away. It mightily pleased little children, and was given to them as a reward for making themselves useful.

“A little cake to Finlay,

For going to the well.”

Its origin is said to have been as follows:

A man fell in with a skull in a graveyard and took it to a tailor’s house, where bread was being baked. The tailor gave it a kick, saying, “There was one period of the world when your gabful of dough was not small, and if I had you on a New-Year’s day, I would give you your fill.” When the New Year came round, a stranger came to the tailor’s house asking for a mouthful of dough. The tailor set his wife to bake, and whatever she baked the stranger ate, and then asked for more. The tailor’s stock of meal, and that of his neighbours, was devoured, and still the stranger asked for more. An old man of the neighbourhood was consulted, and he advised that the remnants, or dry meal used for sprinkling the cakes, should also be baked for the voracious guest. On this Fallaid cake being given the stranger declared himself satisfied and went away.

If bread, when being baked, breaks frequently a hungry stranger will come to eat it. Many cakes breaking are a sign of misfortune, by which the housewife is warned that “something is making for her.”

If the cake for breakfast falls backwards, the person for whom it is intended should not be allowed to go on a journey that day; his journey will not be prosperous. The evil can, however, be remedied by giving plenty of butter, ‘without asking,’ with the cake. To avert this omen, cakes should not be placed to harden at the fire on their points, but on either of the two sides or on their round edge. An old woman in Islay got into a great rage at a wake on seeing the cakes (that is, quarters of a farl or large round bannock) placed on their points.

It is not good to count the cakes when done baking. They will not in that case last any time.

Removal Cheese (Mulchag Imrich).—When leaving the summer pastures in the hills, on Lammas day, and returning with the cattle to the strath, a small cheese made of curds was made from that day’s milk, to be given to the children and all who were at the àiridh, for luck and good-will. The cows were milked early in the morning, curds were made and put in the cheese vat (fioghan), and this hastily-prepared cheese was the mulchag imrich, and was taken with the rest of the furniture home for the purpose mentioned.

Leg Cake (Bonnach Lurgainn).—This was a cake given to the herd when he came with news that a mare had foaled, or to the dairy-maid when she brought word that a cow had calved.

Giving Fire out of the House.—On the first day of every quarter of the year—New-Year day, St Bride’s day, Beltane, and Lammas—no fire should be given out of the house. On the two last days especially it should not be given, even to a neighbour whose fire had gone out. It would give him the means of taking the substance or benefit (toradh) from the cows. If given, after the person who had come for it left, a piece of burning peat (ceann fòid) should be thrown into a tub of water, to keep him from doing harm. It will also prevent his coming again. On New-Year’s day fire should not be given out of the house on any consideration to a doubtful person. If he is evil-disposed, not a beast will be alive next New Year. A suspected witch came on this day to a neighbour’s house for fire, her own having gone out, and got it. When she went away a burning peat was thrown into a tub of water. She came a second time and the precaution was again taken. The mistress of the house came in, and on looking in the tub found it full of butter.

Thunder.—In a storm of thunder and lightning iron, for instance the poker and tongs, put in the fire, averts all danger from the house. This curious belief seems to have been widespread at one time throughout the Western Highlands, though now its memory barely survives. Its rationale seems to have been in some way to propitiate the fire, of which lightning is the most powerful exhibition. A woman in Cnoydart (a Roman Catholic district), alarmed by the peals of a thunder-storm, threw holy water on herself, put the tongs in the fire, and on being asked the reason, said, “The cross of Christ be upon us! the fire will not harm us.” Perhaps the practice had some connection with the belief that the Beither, or thunder-bolt, was of iron, a sharp-pointed mass. It seems one of the most irrational practices possible, but was probably of remote origin. In Kent and Herefordshire, a cold iron bar was put on the barrels, to keep the beer from being soured by thunder.

Theft.—The stealing of salt, seed of plants, and lint make the thief liable to judgment without mercy. He may escape punishment from men but he will never attain to rest, as the rhyme says:

“The stealer of salt, and the stealer of seeds,

Two thieves that get no rest;

Whoever may or may not escape,

The stealer of grey lint will not.”[66]

Another version of the rhyme is:

“Thief of salt and thief of seeds,

Two thefts from which the soul gets no repose;

Till the fish comes on land

The thief of lint gets never rest.”

Salt.—In addition to the testimony this rhyme bears to the value of salt, there was a saying, that a loan of salt should be returned as soon as possible; if the borrower dies in the meantime and without restitution being made his ghost will revisit the earth. No fish should be given out of the house without being first sprinkled with salt. Meal taken out of the house in the evening was sprinkled with salt to prevent the Fairies getting its benefit.

Combing the Hair.—A person should not comb his hair at night, or if he does, every hair that comes out should be put in the fire. Otherwise they will meet his feet in the dark and make him stumble. No sister should comb her hair at night if she have a brother at sea.

If the hair is allowed to go with the wind and it passes over an empty nest, or a bird takes it to its nest, the head from which it came will ache.

No person should cut his own hair, as he will by doing so become an unlucky person to meet.

If the hair, when thrown on the fire, will not burn, it is a sign the person will be drowned.

Bird Nests.—On falling in with a nest for the first time that year, if there be only one egg in it, or if there be an odd egg in it, that egg should be broken.

Any one finding a cuckoo’s nest will live to be widowed.

Hen’s First Egg.—A young hen’s first egg should be tapped on the hearth, saying, “one, two, three,” etc., and as many numbers as were repeated before the egg broke, or the youngster, who was persuaded to try the experiment, got tired, so many eggs would that hen lay.

Euphemisms.—By giving diseases and other evils a good name, when speaking of them, the danger of bringing them upon oneself by his words is turned away. It will be remembered that for a similar reason the ancients called the Fairies Eumenides, and the Celt called the Fairies ‘good people.’ The smallpox was called ‘the good woman.’ Epilepsy ‘the outside disease.’

In telling a tale of any one being taken away by the Fairies, the ill-will of the ‘people’ was averted by prefixing the narrative with the words, “A blessing on their journeying and travelling! this is Friday and they will not hear us.”

When a person sneezes it is customary for the bystander to say “Thank you,” to which is sometimes added, “We will not take his name in vain.” Some say, “God be with you,” others, “God and Mary be with you,” and others, “St. Columba be with you.” By saying, “The hand of your father and grandfather be over you,” the Fairies are kept away. Any words would seem to have been deemed availing, and some of the phrases used were not choice. If the bystander should say, “Your brains the next time!” the person sneezing should answer, “The bowl of your head intercept them!”

When a child yawns, the nurse should say, “Your weariness and heaviness be on yonder grey stone!”

When the story of a house having taken fire is told, the narrative should be prefixed by saying, “St Mary’s well be in the top of every house! the cross of Christ be upon us!” This averts a similar calamity from the house in which the tale is told.

In some places old people are to be found who, when a person comes in with any tale of misfortune, of the death of one of the cattle, a neighbour’s house taking fire, etc., pull threads from their clothes and throw them in the fire, saying, “Out with the evil tale!” or, “To tell it to themselves.”

In speaking of the dead, it is proper to speak of them only in commendatory terms—de mortuis nihil nisi bonum. Hence moladh mairbh (Praise of the Dead) denotes faint praise, not always deserved. In speaking of the dead, old people always added, “His share of paradise be his” (chuid a fhlaitheanas da), or “His portion of mercy be his” (chuid a thròcair da). If their tale was not to the credit of the deceased or they were obliged to make any statement unfavourable to him, they said, “It is not to send it after him.”

Boat Language.—When in a boat at sea, sailing or fishing, it was forbidden to call things by the names by which they were known on land. The boat-hook should not be called croman, but a chliob; a knife, not sgian, but a ghiar (the sharp one); the baling dish, not taoman, but spùidseir; a seal, not ròn, but béisd mhaol (the bald beast); a fox, not sionnach, but madadh ruadh (the red dog); the stone for anchoring the boat was not clach, but cruaidh (hardness). This practice prevails much more on the east coast than on the west, where it may be said to be generally extinct. It is said to be carefully observed among the fishermen about the Cromarty Firth. It was deemed unlucky by east coast fishermen coming to Tiree (as several boats used to do annually to prosecute the cod and ling fishing), to speak in a boat of a minister or a rat. Everywhere it was deemed unlucky among seafaring men to whistle in case a storm should arise. In Tiree, Heynish Hill (the highest in the island) was known at sea as a Bhraonach; Hogh Hill (the next highest) as Bheinn Bhearnach no Sgoillte (the Notched or Cloven Hill), and a species of whale as cas na poite (the leg of a pot). It should not be said “He was drowned” (bhàthadh e) but “he journeyed” (shiubhail e); not “tie a rope” (ceangail ròp), but “make it” (dean e). In the north it was held that an otter, while in its den, should not be called béisd du (the black beast, its common name), but Carnag. It would otherwise be impossible for the terriers to drive it from its refuge.

Fresh Meat.—When fresh meat of the year’s growth is tasted for the first time, a person should say,

“A death-shroud on the grey, better grey, old woman,

Who said she would not taste the fresh meat,

I will taste the fresh meat,

And will be alive for it next year.”

This ensures another year’s lease of life.

Killing those too long alive.—If a person is thought to be too long alive, and it becomes desirable to get rid of him, his death can be ensured by bawling to him thrice through the key-hole of the room in which he is bedrid,

“Will you come, or will you go?

Or will you eat the flesh of cranes?”

Funerals.—It was customary to place a plate of salt, the smoothing iron, or a clod of green grass on the breast of a corpse, while laid out previous to being coffined. This, it was believed, kept it from swelling. A candle was left burning beside it all night. When it was placed in the coffin and taken away on the day of the funeral, the boards on which it had been lying were left for the night as they were, with a drink of water on them, in case the dead should return and be thirsty. Some put the drink of water or of milk outside the door, and, as in Mull and Tiree, put a sprig of pearlswort above the lintel to prevent the dead from entering the house.

When coffining the corpse every string in the shroud was cut with the scissors; and in defence of the practice there was a story that, after burial, a woman’s shade came to her friends, to say that all the strings in her shroud had not been cut. Her grave was opened, and this was found to be the case.

The only instance the writer has heard of Cere-cloth, that is, cloth dipped in wax in which dead bodies were wrapped, being used in the Highlands, is, that the Nicholsons of Scorrybreck, in Skye (a family said to be of Russian descent through Neacal mòr who was in Mungastadt), had a wax shirt (Leine Chéir) which, from the friendship between themselves and the chief of the Macleods, was sent for from Dunvegan on every occasion of a death.

The Watch of the Graveyard (Faire Chlaidh).—The person last buried had to keep watch over the graveyard till the next funeral came. This was called Faire Chlaidh, the graveyard watch, kept by the spirits of the departed.

At Kiel (Cill Challum Chille), in Morvern, the body of the Spanish Princess said to have been on board one of the Armada blown up in Tobermory Bay was buried. Two young men of the district made a paction, that whoever died first the other would watch the churchyard for him. The survivor, when keeping the promised watch, had the sight of his dead friend as well as his own. He saw both the material world and spirits. Each night he saw ghosts leaving the churchyard and returning before morning. He observed that one of the ghosts was always behind the rest when returning. He spoke to it, and ascertained it to be the ghost of the Spanish Princess. Her body had been removed to Spain, but one of her little fingers had been left behind, and she had to come back to where it was.

When two funeral parties met at the churchyard, a fight frequently ensued to determine who should get their friend first buried.

Suicides.—The bodies of suicides were not taken out of the house, for burial, by the doors, but through an opening made between the wall and the thatch. They were buried, along with unbaptized children, outside the common churchyard.

It was believed in the north, as in Skye and about Applecross (a Chomrach) in Ross-shire, no herring would be caught in any part of the sea which could be seen from the grave of a suicide.

Murder.—It was believed in Sutherlandshire that a murdered body remained undecayed till touched.

The Harvest Old Wife (a Chailleach).—In harvest, there was a struggle to escape being the last done with the shearing, and when tillage in common existed, instances were known of a ridge being left unshorn (no person would claim it) because of it being behind the rest. The fear entertained was that of having the ‘famine of the farm’ (gort a bhaile), in the shape of an imaginary old woman (cailleach), to feed till next harvest. Much emulation and amusement arose from the fear of this old woman; and from it arose the expression, “Better is a mercy-leap in harvest than a sheaf additional” (’As fearr leum-iochd a’s t’ fhogaradh na sguab a bharrachd). The cum-iochd,[67] or mercy-leap, is where a rocky mound or a soft spot, where no corn grows, occurs in a ridge. Its occurrence was a great help to the shearing being done.

The first done made a doll of some blades of corn, which was called the ‘old wife,’ and sent it to his nearest neighbour. He in turn, when ready, passed it to another still less expeditious, and the person it last remained with had the ‘old woman’ to keep for that year. The old wife was known in Skye as the Cripple Goat (a Ghobhar Bhacach).

The fear of the Cailleach in harvest made a man in Saor-bheinn, in the Ross of Mull, who farmed his land in common with another, rise and shear his corn by moonlight. In the morning he found it was his neighbour’s corn he had cut.

Big Porridge Day (La u Bhrochain mhòr).—In the Western Islands, in olden times (for the practice does not now exist anywhere), when there was a winter during which little sea-ware came ashore, and full time for spring work had come without relief, a large dish of porridge, made with butter and other good ingredients, was poured into the sea on every headland where wrack used to come. Next day the harbours were full.

This device was to be resorted to only late in the spring—the Iona people say the Thursday before Easter—and in stormy weather. The meaning of the ceremony seems to have been that, by sending the fruit of the land into the sea, the fruit of the sea would come to land.

Fires on Headlands.—In Skye, fires were lighted on headlands at the beginning of winter to bring in herrings.

Stances.—Particular stances, or sites of buildings, were accounted unlucky, such for instance as the site of a byre in which the death of several cattle had occurred; and it was recommended, to prevent the recurrence of such misfortunes, that the site should be altered.

Names.—So with regard to names. If the children of a family were dying in infancy, one after the other, it was thought that, by changing the name, the evil would be counteracted. The new name was called a ‘Road name’ (Ainm Rathaid), being that of the first person encountered on the road when going with the child to be baptized. It was given ‘upon the luck’ (air sealbhaich) of the person met.

The Mac-Rories, a sept of the Mac-Larens, in Perthshire, were descendants of one who thus received his name. His parents, having lost a previous child before its baptism, were advised to change the name. They were on their way through the Pass, called Laìrig Isle, between Loch Erne and Glen-dochart, to have their second child baptized, when they were met by one Rory Mac Pherson. He was an entire stranger to them, but turned back with them, as a stranger ought to do to avoid being unlucky, and the child was called after him. Clann ’ic-Shimigeir, a sept of the Mac Neills, have also a road name.

Delivery of Cattle and Horses.—Before delivering a cow to the buyer at a market, the seller should pass the end of the rope, by which she is led, three times round his body. When taking delivery of a horse, from one of whom you are not sure, you should come deiseal between him and the horse, and take hold of the halter inside his hand, that is, between him and the horse. Otherwise, the seller’s eye will be after the beast.

Trades.—Masons were said to be able to raise the devil, or, as the Gaelic expression more forcibly describes it, “to take the son of cursing from his roots” (macmollachd thoirt as a fhriamhaichean).

Smiths, being people who work among iron, were deemed of more virtue against the powers of evil than any other tradesmen.

Tailors were looked upon with a feeling akin to that entertained in the south, where “nine tailors made a man.” The reason probably was that in olden times every man fit to bear arms thought it beneath him to follow a peaceful occupation, and only the lame and cripple were brought up as tailors.

Tinkers are known as Luckd-Ceaird, that is literally ‘tradesmen,’ and the name is a memory of days when they held the first rank as hand-craftsmen.

Saor, a joiner, means literally ‘a free-man,’ whence it would appear that from the earliest times the trade was highly esteemed.

Iron.—An oath on cold iron was deemed the most binding oath of any; when people swore on their dirks it was only because it was at the time the cold iron readiest to hand. A man who secreted iron, and died without telling where, could not rest in his grave. At Meigh, in Lochaber, a ghost for a long time met people who were out late. An old man, having taken with him a Bible and made a circle round himself on the road with a dirk, encountered it, and, in reply to his inquiries, the ghost confessed to having stolen a ploughshare (soc a chroinn), and told where the secreted iron was to be found. After this the ghost discontinued its visits to the earth.

Cold iron, e.g. the keys passed round the body of a cow, after her return from the bull, keeps her from ath-dàir, that is, seeking to go on the same journey again.

Empty Shells.—Empty whelk shells (Faochagun failmhe) should not be allowed to remain in the house for the night. Something is sure to come after them.

Similarly, water in which feet have been washed (i.e. out of which the use or benefit has been taken) should not be left in the house for fear the noiseless people come and plunge about in it all night.

Protection against Evil Spirits.—On every occasion of danger and anxiety, the Highlander of former days commended himself to the protection of the Cross. In a storm of thunder he blessed himself saying, “the Cross of Christ be upon us.” When he encountered a ghost or evil spirit at night, he drew a circle round himself on the road with the point of his dirk, or a sapling in the name of Christ, “the Cross of Christ be upon me,” and while he remained in the circle no evil could come near him.

A person was also safe while below high-water mark. Fairies and evil spirits had no power below the roll of sea-weed.

When walking the high road at night, it is recommended to keep to the side paths in case of meeting the wraiths of funerals. The ghostly train may throw a person down, or compel him to carry the bier to the churchyard.

Misnaming a Person.—If a person be accidentally misnamed, as e.g. being called John when his name is Donald, he who made the mistake, on observing it, instantly exclaimed, “The Cross of Christ be upon us.”

Gaining Straw (Sop Seile).—At certain seasons of the year, principally at Beltane and Lammas, a wisp of straw, called Sop-seile (literally a spittle wisp), was taken to sprinkle the door-posts and houses all round sunwise (deiseal), to preserve them from harm. When a new cow came home it was also sprinkled to preserve it from the evil eye. The liquid used was menstruum.

In spring the horses, harness, plough, etc., were similarly sprinkled before beginning to plough.

Propitious Times.—A great number of the observances of superstition were regulated by days of the week or year. There were certain days on which alone certain works could be commenced under favourable auspices and with any chance of being successfully done.

Unlucky Actions.—It is unlucky to wind black thread at night. A vicious wish made to one another by women quarrelling, in olden times, was, “The disease of women who wind black thread at night be upon you!” Some say the reason of the evil omen is, that black thread is apt to disappear at night, or be taken by the Fairies, and be found through the house next morning. Superstition probably assigned some more occult reason.

It is ‘little happiness’ for anyone to kill a magpie or a bat.

It is unlucky for a person on a journey to return the way he went. This belief had its origin in the instructions given to the ‘man of God,’ who rebuked the idolatry of Jeroboam. “Eat no bread, nor drink water, nor turn again by the same way that thou camest” (I Kings xiii. 9).

CHAPTER VIII.
AUGURY.[68]

The anxiety of men to know the future, the issue of their labours, and the destinies awaiting them, makes them ready listeners to the suggestions of fancy, and an easy prey to deception. The mind eagerly lays hold on anything that professes to throw light on the subject of its anxiety, and men are willing victims to their own hopes and fears. Where all is dark and inscrutable, deception and delusion are easy, and hence augury of all kinds, omens, premonitions, divinations, have ever exercised a noticeable power over the human mind.

The ordinary manner which superstition takes to forecast the future is to look upon chance natural appearances under certain circumstances as indications of the character, favourable or unfavourable, of the event about which the mind is anxious. Any appearance in nature, animate or inanimate, can thus be made an omen of, and an inference be drawn from it of impending good or bad fortune. If it be gloomy, forbidding, awkward, or unpleasant, it is an unlucky omen, and the subsequent event, with which the mind associates it, will be unfavourable, but if pleasant, then it is a good omen, and prognosticates pleasant occurrences.

Omens which proceed upon a similarity of character between the prognostic and its fulfilment are easy of interpretation. There are other omens which have no connection, natural, possible, or conceivable, with the impending event, and of which consequently the meaning is occult, known only to people of skill instructed in their interpretation. These probably had their origin in one or two accidental coincidences. For instance, if the appearance of a fox is to be taken as an omen, it will naturally be taken as a bad sign, the stinking brute can indicate nothing favourable; but no amount of sagacity will teach a person that an itching in the point of his nose prognosticates the receipt of important news, or the cuckoo calling on the house-top the death of one of the inmates within the year. His utmost acuteness will fail to find in a shoulder-blade any indication of destiny, or any prophetic meaning in the sediment of a cup of tea. The meaning of these is a mystery to the uninitiated, and it is easy to see how they might be reduced to a system and lead to the wildest delusions of fortune-telling.

Everything a Highlander of the old school set about, from the most trifling to the most important, was under the influence of omens. When he went to fish, to catch his horse in the hill, to sell or buy at the market, to ask a loan from his neighbour, or whatever else he left home to do, he looked about for a sign of the success of his undertaking, and, if the omen were unpropitious, returned home. He knew his journey would be of no avail. He consulted mystagogues as to his fate, and at the proper seasons looked anxiously for the signs of his luck. Like the rest of mankind, he was, by means of these, pleased or depressed in anticipation of events that were never to occur. Hence the saying, “Take a good omen as your omen, and you will be happy.”

Probably the Greek μαντεία, prediction by an oracle, is cognate to the Gaelic manadh, a foretoken, anything from which a prediction can be drawn. Both among Greeks and Celts a great number of omens were taken from birds.

As already mentioned, it is a bad sign of a person’s luck during the day that he should rise from bed on his left hand, wash himself with water in which eggs have been boiled, or the cakes for his breakfast should frequently break in the baking, or fall backwards. The coming evil can be averted in the latter case by giving plenty of ‘butter without asking’ (Im gun iarraidh) with the cakes. Indeed, ‘butter unasked for’ is of sovereign value as an omen of luck. A cake spread with it, given to fishermen, secures a good day’s fishing. It is reckoned good in diseases, particularly measles, and a most excellent omen for people going on a journey. Its not being given to Hugh of the Little Head, on the morning of his last battle, was followed by his losing the battle and his life.

Omens are particularly to be looked for at the outset of a journey. If the first animal seen by the traveller have its back towards him, or he meet a sheep or a pig, or any unclean animal, or hear the shrill cry of the curlew, or see a heron, or he himself fall backward, or his walking-stick fall on the road, or he have to turn back for anything he has forgot, he may as well stay at home that day; his journey will not prosper. A serpent, a rat, or a mouse is unlucky unless killed, but if killed becomes a good omen. If the face of the animal be towards one, even in the case of unlucky animals, the omen becomes less inauspicious.

It is of great importance what person is first met. Women are unlucky, and some men are the most unfortunate omen that can be encountered. These are called droch còmhalaichean, i.e. bad people to meet, and it was told of a man in Skye, that to avoid the mischance of encountering one of them when setting out on a journey, he sent one of his own family to meet him. If he met any other he returned home. In a village in Ayrshire there are three persons noted for being inauspicious to meet, and fishermen (upon whom as a class this superstition has a strong hold) are much dissatisfied at meeting any of them. One of them is not so bad if he puts his hand to his face in a manner peculiar to him. It is inauspicious to meet a person from the same village as oneself, or a man with his head bare, or a man going to pay rent. Old people going to pay rent, therefore, took care to go away unobserved. A plain-soled person is unlucky, but the evil omen in his case is averted by rolling up the tongue against the roof of the mouth. The Stewarts were said to have insteps; water flowed below their foot; it was, therefore, fortunate to meet any of them. All risk of a stranger proving a bad còmhalaiche is avoided by his returning a few steps with the traveller.

A hare crossing one’s path is unlucky, and old people, when they saw one before them, made considerable detours to avoid such a calamity. The disfavour with which this harmless animal and the pig were regarded no doubt arose from their being unclean under the Levitical Law. The hare chews the cud, but divides not the hoof; the pig divides the hoof, but does not chew the cud.

The fox is unlucky to meet, a superstition that prevails also in East Africa. The King of Karague told Captain Speke that “if a fox barked when he was leading an army to battle, he would retire at once, knowing that this prognosticated evil” (Journal, p. 241).

It is unlucky to look back after setting out. Old people, if they had to turn to a person coming after them, covered their face. This superstition probably had its origin in the story of Lot’s wife. Fin MacCoul, according to a popular tale, never looked back after setting out on a journey. When he went on the expedition that terminated in his being “in the house of the Yellow Forehead without liberty to sit down or power to stand up,” he laid spells on his companions, that no man born in Ireland should follow him. Fergus, who was born in Scotland, followed, and Fin, hearing footsteps behind him, called out without turning his head, in a phrase now obsolete, Co sid a propadh mo cheaplaich? i.e., it is supposed, “Who is that following my footsteps?”

To be called after is a sure omen that a person will not get what he is going in search of. This belief gave great powers of annoyance to people of a waggish humour. When everything prognosticated success, and the fishing boat had left the shore, or the old man, staff in hand, had set out on his journey, some onlooker cried out, “There is the fox before you and after you”; or, “Have you got the fish-hooks?” or, “Have you taken the Bait-stone?”[69] Immediately a damp was thrown on the expedition, a return home was made for that day, and the wag might be glad if the party called after did not make him rue his impertinence.

Of omens referring to other events in the life of man than the success of particular expeditions may be mentioned the following:

A golden plover (Feadag, Charadrius pluvialis), heard at night, portends the near approach of death or other evil. The cry of the bird is a melancholy wailing note.

A pied wagtail (Breac an t-sìl, motaeilla alba), seen between them and the house, was a sign of being turned out of the house that year and ‘losing the site’ (call na làraich).

The mole burrowing below a house is a sign the tenants will not stay long on that site.

If the cuckoo calls on the house-top, or on the chimney (luidheir), death will occur in the house that year.

In spring and early summer the omens of happiness and prosperity, or misery and adversity for the year, are particularly looked for. It is most unfortunate if the first foal or lamb seen that season have its tail toward the beholder, or the first snail (some say stone-chat) be seen on the road or on a bare stone, and a most unmistakable sign of misfortune to hear the cuckoo for the first time before tasting food in the morning, ‘on the first appetite’ (air a chiad lomaidh), as it is called. In the latter case, the cuckoo is said ‘to soil upon a person’ (chac a chuthag air), and, to avoid such an indignity, people have been known, at the time of the cuckoo’s visit, to put a piece of bread below their pillow to be eaten the first thing in the morning.

Cock-crowing before midnight is an indication of coming news. Old people said the bird had ‘a tale’ to tell; and, when they heard it, went to see if its legs were cold or not. If cold, the tale will be one of death; if hot, a good tale. The direction in which the bird’s head is turned indicates the direction in which the tale is to come.

In visiting the sick, it is a sign of the termination of the illness whether it be the right or the left foot that touches the threshold first.

Women pretended to know when they laid their hand on a sick person whether he would recover.

It is a good sign if the face of the chimney-crook (aghaidh na slabhraidh) be toward the visitor, but an evil omen if its back be toward him.

CHAPTER IX.
PREMONITIONS AND DIVINATION.