THE AVOIDING DAY OF THE YEAR.
(Latha seachnach na Bliadhna.)
This is the third day of summer, and its name is almost the only part of the beliefs concerning it, that now survives. The writer searched far and wide for an explanation of the name, and only once heard one that was satisfactory. It was on this day that the fallen angels were expelled from Paradise, and on it people should avoid doing any kind of evil. If caught in the act, they will be similarly expelled from the regions of forgiveness, and be visited with “judgement without mercy.” If it falls on a Friday, it is unlucky to go on a journey.
Pennant says about it, “The fourteenth May is unlucky, and the day on which it falls.”
Caingis, WHITSUNTIDE, PENTECOST.
This and Martinmas are the two principal term days in Scotland, at which half-yearly servants enter on their duties, and at which removals take place. At Whitsunday term (old style) especially, the 25th of May, the towns of Scotland present an animated appearance from the number of removals, or changes of residences. The streets are crowded with household goods being removed from one house to another. Tenants at will are removed and leases expire at this term.
In Lorn, and the districts to the south of it, along by Lochfyneside, the term is called Feill Breunain. St. Brendan the Elder, from whom the name is derived, was abbot of Clonfest in Ireland A.D. 578. His day is May 16-28. Kilbrandon parish (in Gaelic Sgìreachd a Chuain, the parish of the ocean) in the west of Argyllshire, derives its name from him, and there is a farm in the island of Mull of the same name. History records that the saint with 14 companions once made a voyage in search of Paradise, and in stormy weather, when the sea is rough and the sky inclement, and the earth is hid with driving showers [it excites a smile], that he came north in the hope of finding it. There are days indeed in summer in the Hebrides, when a glory covers the sea and sky and the hills “that encircle the sea,” when he might think that he was on the way.[70]
In Sutherlandshire, people reckon by the Feill Chelzie, a market held on Tuesday of the term, deriving its name from a wool manufactory, now discontinued, called New Kelso, near Loch Carron.
The names Caingis, Whitsuntide, and Pentecost, are modifications of one and the same word. Pentecost became pencas in Cornish, in Gaelic (which represents p of the Welsh dialects by c) caingis (Kinkis), as pascha became W. pâsk, Gael. Càisg (Kasg). The Gaelic c or k sound is represented in the Saxon tongue by wh. Thus we have cuibhle (cuile), wheel; cuip, whip; ciod, what?; cuilein, whelp; co, who?; cuist, wheesht! be quiet!; caoin, whine; etc. So cencas has become Whitsun. The feast has no name in the languages of Western Europe, but such as are derivations of the Greek word. The English name has been thought to be an exception, and to be, therefore, of modern origin. From the light thrown upon it by the Celtic languages, we infer that it is of the same origin as the rest.
Caingis is reckoned to be “at the end of a fortnight of summer.”
Feill-Sheathain, ST. JOHN’S OR MID-SUMMER’S EVE, 24TH JUNE-6TH JULY.
On this day, the cuckoo was said to enter its winter house (theid a chuthag na tigh geamhraidh). It is not natural for its song to be heard after this. The bird may be seen, but it is not heard. It is, like the landrail, stonechat, or other birds that disappear in winter, one of the seven sleepers, who were believed to pass the winter underground.
Seathan, Swithin, is the old form of the name John, the common form being Iain, Eòin, and in Islay Eathin. It still survives in the name of the Clan Maclean, Mac-ill’-sheathain, also written MacGhilleòin. A former minister of Kilmore in Mull is still remembered as Maighsthir Seathain, and an exceedingly plaintive song, composed to her husband, who had been betrayed and executed for piracy, by his widow, begins “Swithin is to-night a dead one.”
“Tha Seathan nochd na mharbhan,”
the names being those now denoted by John.
Mios crochadh nan Con, DOG-DAYS.
(Lit. month for hanging dogs.)
This is but a boyish and sportive name given to the month preceding Lùnasdal, or first of August, the time of greatest scarcity with the poor. The stores of last harvest are exhausted, and the new supplies are not yet come in. If there is a scarcity of food for the dogs, it is recommended as the best thing that can be done, to hang them. Besides, the excessive heat makes it advisable to get rid of all superfluous dogs.
Latha Martainn Builg, TRANSLATION OF MARTIN.
(Lit. Martin of the Bag’s Day.)
July 4-16 received its title of the Translation of Martin from being the day on which the remains of St. Martin, Bishop of Tours, 397, “the apostle of the Gauls” (who also gives his name to the Martinmas term) were transferred to the Cathedral of Tours. In Scotland the day is called St. Martin of Bullions Day, and it was a proverb that if the deer rise dry and lie down dry on it, that is if the morning and evening be dry, it will be a dry season till harvest; and it was a general belief over Europe that rain on this day betokened wet weather for the next twenty days.
The Day of St. Martin of the Bag is commonly translated St. Swithin’s day, which is the 15th. St. Swithin was Bishop of Winchester, and no name of an English Bishop is found in the Gaelic calendar.
Lùnasdal, LAMMAS, AUGUST 1-12TH.
This, being a quarter day, formed a great day with old women for saining cattle, and performing those ceremonies by which evil was to be kept away from them for the next three months. Tar was put on their tails and ears, charms (òradh) were said at their udders, red and blue threads were put on their tails, and various observances were gone through with balls of hair (rolag), plants, fire about the earthenware pipkins (crogain) in which milk or butter was to be put, etc. Curds and butter were specially prepared for a great feast held this day, at which it was highly important that everyone got as much as he cared for.
On Lammas day, the gad-fly “loses one of its eyes” (Latha Lùnasdal caillidh chreithleag an leth shùil). The creature is not so vicious after this date.
Lùnasdal is not a word of Gaelic origin, at least no satisfactory Gaelic etymology can be given for it. It is perhaps a contraction of the Latin, luna augustalis, the August moon. The Roman month was lunar, and was reckoned from the first appearance of the moon’s slender crescent in the sky. The moon in the harvest months is of more consequence to the husbandman than at any other season, and has always been taken notice of for its splendour. The temperature of the night air has much to do with this. The Gaelic bears its own testimony to it, in giving distinctive names to the autumn moon.
The corresponding English name, Lammas, had very likely the same origin, and it is a contraction of Lunamas. The derivation of it from Lamb-mas is an “affectation of punning,” and that suggested by Gen. Vallancey from La-ith-mas, “a day of eating fruit,” is extremely fanciful. The omission of n in the middle of a word, for the sake of brevity or from inadvertence, frequently occurs. So g has been elided in Lùnasdal. Augustus, which was adopted as the name of the sixth month B.C. 6, became east in Cornish and eost in Armoric.
Iuchar, THE HOT MONTH (i.e. AUGUST).
The Iuchar consists of 14 days of summer and 14 days of autumn, and Lammas Day, O.S., being the first of autumn, corresponds to the present month of August. It is regarded, in point of weather, as the opposite of Faoilleach, the “storm month” of February.
The name is derived from an obsolete verb fiuchadh to be hot. Lhuyd (Archæolog. Brit.) renders fiuchaeh, boiling, and fiuchadh, a spring, scatebra. In another place he gives fiuchadh as an equivalent of the Latin æstus. In some districts of the north, the name of the season is still called Fiuchar. Linlithgow, celebrated for its wells, is known in the Highlands as Gleann Iuch, and the Linlithgow measures are called tomhaís Ghlinn Iuch. The dropping of f initial, as in the case of the Greek digamma, is too common to need illustration.
Fèill Moire, ASSUMPTION DAY.
This is the middle day of autumn (latha meadhon an fhogharaidh), August 15-27. It was counted a greater day than St. Mary’s Day (Féill Moire) in spring, and was called “the Big St. Mary’s Day.” Harvest operations were now vigorously pushed forward, and hence the saying, “Big St Mary’s Feast in harvest, sheaf and binding and men with their coats off” (an Fhéill Mhoire mòr a’s t-fhogharadh sguab ’us ceangal ’s daoin’ as an léintean).
Féill Ròid, ROODMAS, SEPTEMBER 14-26.
This day is the first of the rutting season among deer, and it was held that if the night before it (oidhche na Féill Ròid), be wet, or (as it was expressed), “if the deer took his head wet into the rutting season” (ma bheir e cheann fliuch san dàmhair), there will be a month after it of dry weather, and the farmer need be under no apprehension as to securing his crops. The belling of red deer among the hills on this night is magnificent.
The night succeeding Roodmas was called “the night of the nut,” “the night of the Holy Nut” (oidhche na cnò, na cnò Naomh), a name, the reason of which is doubtful. Some say it arises from this night dividing harvest in unequal halves, as the kernel is divided in the nut. Brand (i. 353) mentions a custom of going a nutting upon Rood Day, and it seems to have been a popular belief that on this day the devil goes a nutting. This does not explain why the nut is called the Holy Nut.
The Holy Rood is the same as the Cross.
MICHAELMAS (Feill Mìcheil)
is also known in the Roman Catholic districts of the Highlands, as “the Riding Day” (latha na marcachd). On the level green of Borg (machaire Bhorg), in Barra, a great race is held, the women bringing the horses, and sitting behind the men on horseback. In the scamper that ensues, it is a lucky sign if the woman tumbles off. All the expenses of the festivity are borne by the women, each of whom takes with her to the racecourse a large thick bannock of oatmeal, made with treacle, butter, etc.
Samhain, HALLOWMAS,
is the first day of winter, and is also known as All-Saints’ Day (Latha nan uile Naomh), Nov. 1-13. It was a sign of a bad winter if it fell upon a Wednesday, according to the saying: “When Hallowmas is on Wednesday, it is afflictive after it” (Nuair is Di-ciadaìn an t-samhainn is iargaineach na déigh).
The coming of winter was hailed with more fun and merriment than any other season of the year. The cold was now fairly set in, the fruits of the summer, down to the very nuts, were gathered, and the young became desirous of learning their fate with regard to that subject of anxiety in every age, their future husbands and wives. This natural welcoming of winter explains the ceremonies of the day, and the games of the evening. Hardly any of them have reference to the practices or deities of the nations of antiquity or to Scripture, and this explanation must be sought for in Pagan times.
On the last day of autumn children gathered ferns, tar-barrels, the long thin stalks called gàinisg, and everything suitable for a bonfire. These were placed in a heap on some eminence near the house, and in the evening set fire to. The fires were called Samhnagan. There was one for each house, and it was an object of ambition who should have the biggest. Whole districts were brilliant with bonfires, and their glare across a Highland loch, and from many eminences, formed an exceedingly picturesque scene. Some find in them traces of the worship of the invariable Baal, but there is no reason to look upon them otherwise than as the natural and defiant welcome of the season, in which fires are most required, when the heat of the year is departed, and cold and frost and rushing winds cover all things with gloom. Bonfires are kindled on all occasions of public rejoicing, or excitement, and Hallowmas fires are a natural expression of the change of season. It is possible a deity was originally associated with the practice, but there is now no trace of him in name or practices of this day.
As the evening wore on, the young people gathered to one house, and an almost endless variety of games (cleasan) were resorted to, with the object in every case of divining the future lot of the company. Were they to marry or not, was it to be that year or never, who was to be married first, what like the future husband or wife was to be, their names, trade, colour of hair, size, property, etc.? were questions of great importance, and their answer was a source of never-failing entertainment. The modes of divination are of interest, from the light they throw on the character of the people among whom they prevailed, and from an antiquarian point of view, as remains of Pagan times.
A shoe caught by the tip and thrown over the house, fore-indicates the future by its position on the ground on the other side. In whatever direction the toe points, the thrower will go before long, and it is very unlucky if the shoe be found with the sole uppermost, misfortune is “making for” him. A thin, fine shoe, used in this manner, led the man, fished up from the Green Island, to remark, after some years of silence:
“A thin shoe, little valued,
It is hard to say who will wear it.”[71]
He might well say so, for the owner of the shoe died in a few days.
The white of eggs, dropped in a glass of pure water, indicates by certain marks how many children a person is to have. The impatience and clamour of the children often made the housewife perform this ceremony for them by daylight, and the kindly mother, standing with her face to the window, dropping the white of an egg into a crystal glass of clean water, and surrounded by a group of children, eagerly watching her proceedings, formed a pretty picture.
When the fun of the evening had fairly commenced, the names of eligible, or likely as possible matches, were written on the chimney place, and the young man, who wished to essay his fortune, was blindfolded and led up to the list. Whatever name he put his finger on would prove to be that of his future wife.
Two nuts were put on the fire beside each other, representing two individuals, whose names were made known to the company. As they burned together, or flared up alone, or leaped away from each other, the future marriage of the pair, or haughty rejection of each other, was inferred.
A dish of milk and meal (fuarag, Scot. crowdie), or of beat potatoes, was made, and a ring was concealed in it. Spoons were given to the company, and a vigorous attack was made on the dish. Whoever got the ring would prove to be the first married. This was an excellent way of making the taking of food part of the evening’s merriment.
Apples and a silver sixpence were put in a tub of water. The apples floated on the top, but the coin lay close to the bottom. Whoever was able to lift either in his mouth, and without using his teeth, was counted very lucky, and got the prize to himself.
By taking an apple and going to a room alone, dividing it there into nine pieces against the name of the Father and the Son, eating eight pieces with the back to a looking glass and the face looking over the left shoulder, and then throwing the ninth piece over the same shoulder, the future husband or wife was seen in the glass coming and taking the piece of apple away.
A person, going in the devil’s name to winnow in a barn alone, will see his future partner entering the door.
An unmarried woman, taking a ball of thread and crossing a wall on her way, went to a kiln or other out-house. Here, holding one end of the thread, she threw the ball in the dark into the eye of the kiln (sùil àth), or over one of the rafters or a partition wall, in the name of a sweetheart whom she had before fixed on in her mind, and calling out “who is down there at the end of my little rope?” (co so shìos air ceann mo ròpain?), at the same time she gave the thread a gentle pull. In reply, some one or something pulled the thread at the other end, and a voice called out the name of her future husband. There is a story of a tailor having hid himself in anticipation of this mode of divination being resorted to, and when the ball was thrown he caught it and gave the thread a tug. In answer to the question “who is this at the end of my little rope?” he said, “I am the devil” (Tha mise, ’n deamhan), and the woman to whom this frightful answer was given never tried divination again.
Young women sowed hemp seed (fras lìn) over nine ridges of plough land, saying “I sow hemp seed, and he who is to be my husband, let him come and harrow it” (Tha mi cur fras lìn, ’s am fear bhios na fhear ’dhomh, thigeadh e ’s cliathadh e). On looking back they saw the figure of their future husband. Hallowe’en being the night preceding the first day of a lunar month was always dark, and this ceremony was rendered more awful by a story that a woman once saw herself coming after her, and never recovered from the effects of the vision.
By dipping his shirt sleeve in a well to the south (tobar mu dheas), and then pulling off the shirt and placing it to dry before the fire, the anxious youth, if he does not oversleep himself, will see his sweetheart entering through the night and turning the shirt.
On putting an odd number of keys in a sieve, going to a barn alone, and there riddling them well “with the wrong hand turn” (car tuaitheal), the destined one will come and put the odd key right.
By holding a mouthful of water in the mouth, and going to listen (farcluais) at a neighbour’s window, the first name overheard will prove to be that of one’s intended.
The same knowledge was obtained by biting a piece of the last cart that sent in the corn, and with it in the mouth going, without speaking, to listen (farcluais) under a neighbour’s window.
A common practice was to go and steal kail stocks. Unless the plants are pulled surreptitiously, without the knowledge or consent of their owner, they are of no use for the purpose of divination. A number of young people go together, and having cautiously and with difficulty made their way into a kailyard, pull each one the first stock that comes to hand after bending down. It must be the first that the hand meets. The plant is then taken home and examined by the light, and according to its height, straightness, colour, etc., will be the future husband or wife. A quantity of soil adhering to it signifies money and property. When put for the night above the lintel of the door, it affords indications by the first person entering below it in the morning; and, put below the pillow, it is excellent to dream over.
A straw, drawn at random from a stack, indicates by the number of grains upon it what family a person is to have.
Three ears of corn similarly pulled and placed below the pillow for the night, will cause dreams of the future husband reaping them.
A plate of clean water, one of dirty water, and one empty being placed on the floor, and a napkin thrown over the eyes, the dish in which the person blindfolded puts his forefinger, indicated a maid, or widow, or none at all.
A piece of flesh being buried this night, if any living creature was found in it in the morning, the person burying it would be married; but if not, he never would.
If water, in which the feet had been washed, were kept in the house this night,[72] (and the Fairies were apt to enter the house when that was the case), a person putting a burning peat in it will see the colour of his sweetheart’s hair in it.
If a mouthful of the top sod of the house wall (fòid fàil na h-anainn), or a mouthful from the clod above the lintel of the door (àrd-dorus) be taken into the house in one’s teeth and any hair be found in it, it is of the same colour as that of the future wife of the person who performs the rite.
One of the chief performances of the evening was for young women to go to a Boundary Stream (allt crìche), (if between two neighbouring proprietors so much the better,) and with closed eyes to lift from it three stones between the middle finger and thumb, saying these words:
“I will lift the stone
As Mary lifted it for her Son,
For substance, virtue, and strength;
May this stone be in my hand
Till I reach my journey’s end.”[73]
The stones were for putting below the head when going to sleep.
Many other modes of divination were practised too tedious to mention, by slices from the plough, different metals, eating a stolen raw salt herring, sprinkling corn in front of the bed, etc., etc. These observances can hardly be characterised as superstitions; they proceeded from a spirit of fun more than from any belief in their efficacy. There are in every community many weak and simple people who are easily imposed on, and made to believe almost anything; but the divinations of Hallowe’en left an abiding impression on few minds.
Feill Fionnain.
St. Finan’s Eve is the longest night in the year, and hence it is said of a very stupid person, “he is as dark as the night of St. Finan, and that night is pretty dark” (Tha e co dorcha ri oidhche Feill Fionnain, ’s tha ’n oidhche sin glè dhorcha). The shortest day is called, in the Mackay country, the extreme north of Sutherlandshire, “The Day of the Three Suppers” (Latha nan trì suipeirean).
On this night it was said “the rain is wine and the stones are cheese” (Tha ’n t-uisge na fhìon ’s na clachan nan càise), and it was considered a joke to persuade boys to go out and see. “I remember,” says one who is a shrewd intelligent man, “about fifty years ago, when I was a little boy, sitting quite contentedly on the Eve of St. Finan’s Day sipping with a spoon from a big tub of water, in the full hope that the next spoonful would prove to be wine.”
The name is derived from St. Finan, confessor, Bp. of Clonard, in Ireland, in the sixth century. This day is now fixed as the 12th December, but in the Highlands it is the shortest in the year, whatever day of the calendar that may fall upon. In olden times it was much esteemed, as the rhyme shows:
“St. Finnan’s night of festivities,
And Christmas night of great cheer.”[74]
Besides giving a name to the days of the calendar the saints were employed to designate local markets, St. Kessock’s Day (Fèill mo Cheasaig) at Callander has been already mentioned. St. Connan’s Day (Feill Connain) is the autumn market in Glenorchy; Feill Fhaolain is held at Killin; Feill Ceit at Kenmore; and in other places we have Feill Peadair, F. Aindreis, etc. Old men spoke of Feill an Diomhanais, the festival of St. Idleness, a holiday frequently observed by a great many people. Latha na Sluasaid, Shovel Day, means the day of one’s burial. Bliadhna na Braoisge, Grinning Year, and La Luain, Moon-day (i.e. Monday come-never), mean the same thing, the Greek Kalends. Bliadhna nam Brisgeinean, the Year of Silverweed roots, was shortly after Culloden, and is remembered in Tiree as a year of great scarcity. The land had been neglected in previous years from the disturbed state of the country, and in spring the furrows were white with roots (brisgeinean), and people made meal of them.