SCIENCE VERSUS EOLAS
It will be easily understood that to a believer in the Evil Eye mere modern science, as met with in daily life, in doctors, and veterinary surgeons, is of small account. A well-educated lady, a friend of the writer, advised a neighbour whose cow was ill to send for the vet. The answer was: “Cha’n eil vet a chum feum sam bith, oir ’san a tha bho air a cronachadh. ’S e rud is fearr eolas fhaotainn air a son.” (“A vet is no use whatever, because the cow is air a cronachadh; the best thing is to get eolas for it.)”
In that case they didn’t even send for the “vet.” In the following instance a certain preliminary confidence seems to have been shown in medical men. The reciter gives this as a very clear case of Evil Eye. A child had fallen sick; two doctors were attending it, but it was getting worse. The parents, having done all that they could think of, requested the aid of a woman who was known to deal with eolas a chronachaidh. The woman went to see the child, and what she did the reciter did not know, but, “sure enough, she soon cured the child and told its parents that it had been air a cronachadh.” This may have been “sure enough” for those immediately interested, others may be permitted to doubt.
In these cases common sense has generally the minister on its side. In a case already quoted, in which the mother’s milk was supposed to have been turned into water in her system by the Tiree woman, her mother was sent for. This old lady’s granddaughter tells us, “When my grandmother came she suggested that a decent man who was living near them, who was used to work with eolas where people or beasts had been air an cronachadh, should be called in, but she said they would need to go to him secretly, for he had promised the minister that he would not make any more eolas. My father and mother agreed, but my mother requested my grandmother to go to the man, because she did not know how to go about it. My grandmother went and spoke to the man’s wife first. The wife said, ‘I am sure he will do what he can for John (the child’s father), but he has promised the minister that he would not make any more of that; but come and speak to him yourself.’ My grandmother spoke to the man, who said that he had promised to the minister that he would not do any more of these things. He could not go to her, but she might come back to him again the following day. This was a Wednesday, and there were only two days of the week on which he could make eolas—these were Thursdays and Sundays. When she went back the following day, he had not got his cure ready yet, he said, but would have it on Sunday. He told her that her daughter would not have so much milk as she had at first, but would have enough to bring up the child. On Sunday he had the thing ready as he had promised, and he made it twice for her afterwards. That is, he made it three times. He correctly described the whole appearance of the woman who had taken the milk away, although nobody had ever mentioned about the Tiree cailleach to him. My mother had plenty of milk after that.”
We can scarcely wonder at the minister objecting to this magical practitioner when we consider the nature and the time of his performance. An old Islay man says that when he was a young man he was very intimate with a woman who had knowledge of the curing of toothache (eolas deide). She was a relative of his own, and many a time she offered to teach him the words she used. She could teach them to a male, not to a female. He was young at the time, and did not like to learn them, for some people were saying that it was a sort of witchcraft (buideachas), but it was not that, for the words were all good words. They were taught by the Saviour, who taught them first to His mother. Our reciter went on to say that this toothache cure is of no use, and need not be tried, in any case beyond a first or second attack. It is hard to make it succeed even in the case of a second attack, and beyond that it can have no effect whatever. Neither will it do in a case where the sufferer has his tooth taken out.
These latter confessions were doubtless memories of the instructions of the teacher. Our old friend did not repeat the formula, but it has appeared elsewhere.[6]
The “some” who said that eolas was a sort of witchcraft seem undoubtedly to be right, unless, of course, we admit that their action is based on a scientific understanding. The Evil Eye itself is unconscious, and therefore a natural phenomenon like measles or hay fever, but its cure is a good deal like that employed for hay fever in many cases, more empirical than scientific.
[6] “Gaelic Incantations, with Translations,” W. Mackenzie, p. 55 et seq.
We are lucky in being able to give in his own words medical science as expounded by a Gaelic-speaking tailor, a simple-minded man of about seven-and-thirty, a man who can read and can work, but with no special affection for either. He belongs to one of the inner islands:—
“Tha Eolas nathrach ann, agus tha Eolas deide ann. Tha Eolas sul, agus Eolas greim, agus Eolas chronachaidh ann. Eolas gach ni, ’na aite fein. Ma lotar neach le nathair, faigheadh e Eolas nathrach: agus ’nuair bhios an deide air duine faigheadh e Eolas deide; agus mar sin leis gach ni eile. Is aithne dhomh fhein da neo tri, a fhuair leigheas airson lot nathrach. Tha na facail th’ aca airson Eolais greim air an toirt as an Tiomnadh nuadh, pios an so, agus pios an sin; agus iad sin air an sgriobhadh air paipear, agus am paipear sin air fhuaigheal air an taobh a steach de chot’ an duine air an robh an greim. Cuiridh so an greim air falbh. B’aithne dhomh fhein duine a dh’ fheuch so, agus rinn e feum dha. Ach feumaidh duine bhi cinnteach gum bu na facail ceart aige. Agus tha na facail airson eolas deide air an cuir air paiper, agus am paiper air fhuaigheal an taobh a stigh de aodach duin’ air a cheart doigh. Ach ma tha na fiaclan air falbh, cha dean e math sam bith, ach ma tha iad slan fathast, ni e feum, agus cha tig an deide air ais tuille.
”Chuala mi iomadh uair na facail th’ aca airson Eolas sul; ach bheir mi dhuibh na chrunas an t-iomlan—ni a thug Mathair da Mac gus olc a chumail air falbh, bho’n bhainne agus bho’n chuinneag. So na briatharan:—
‘’Nuair a ni thu toiseachadh.
Cuir dorlach math salainn ann.
Cuir bun ’us barr an neonain ann.
Cuir mionach roin, ’us gearr fheidh ann.
Buain slat de’n chaoran a nall o aodann Eallasaid.
Snathain dearg le snuim teann
Air a chuir mu cheann a’ chratachan.
’S ged a thigeadh buidseach Hendry.
Cheannsaicheadh am balach i.’
Tha sibh a faicinn, bha ’m buidseach Hendry anns a Bhioball. B’ ise’ m buidseach bu laidire bha beo riomh; ach nam faigheadh neach sambith na nithe sin uile, agus an cuir gu feum, cha b’ urrainn dhise neo do bhuidseach sam bith eile a chron a dheanadh. Chunnaic mi fein an snathain dearg air clann, gus olc a chumail bhuapa.”
(“There is serpent knowledge (serpent bite) and toothache knowledge. There is eye knowledge and stitch (gripes) knowledge and hurt knowledge (by Evil Eye or Witchcraft). Knowledge of each thing in its own place. If any person is wounded by a serpent let him get serpent knowledge, and when a man has toothache let him get toothache knowledge, and so with every other thing. I myself know two or three who got a cure for serpent bites. The words they have for curing stitch (gripes) are taken from the New Testament, a bit here and a bit there, and these written upon paper, and that paper sewn in the inside of the coat of the person who had the stitch. This will put the stitch away. I knew a man that tried this, and it was of use to him. But one must be sure that he has got the right words. And the words for toothache knowledge are put on paper, and the paper sewn inside a person’s clothes in the same manner. But if the teeth are gone it will do no good, but if they are still whole it will do good, and the toothache will not return any more.
“I have often heard the words they have for eye knowledge, but I will give you what crowns the whole, the thing a Mother gave to her Son to keep evil away from the milk and from the churn. Here are the words:—
‘When you make a beginning
Put a good handful of salt in it.
Put root and flower of the daisy in it.
Put the entrails of a seal and a hare in it.
Cut a wand of rowan over from the face of Ellasaid.
A red thread with a tight knot
Put on the head of the churn staff.
And should the witch Hendry (of Endor) come.
The boy would conquer her.’
“You see the witch Hendry was in the Bible. She was the strongest witch that ever lived, but if any person would get all these things and use them, she, or any other witch, could not do him injury. I have myself seen the red thread on children to keep evil from them.”)
The above is undoubtedly sheer witchcraft, white witchcraft, if you like. It is not then surprising that the evidence is not in favour of these eolas professors being held in much social esteem. A native of Harris, talking of one of them, said: “Notwithstanding the wide reputation the man had, and the many who went to seek advice, he was not held in high esteem, and this part of his occupation was not admired although so many took advantage of his services.” The reciter himself spoke of him as bodach granda (nasty old man).
A Gaelic-speaking minister gave the following information. It refers to Arran. He knew several old women who professed eolas a chronachaidh, but he did not hold a high opinion of them. One case, however, he remembers especially in this connection. A lad was taken suddenly ill, supposed to be a case of cronachadh. An old woman, who was respected in the district, came to see him, and going above him in the bed, made motions with her hands over him and on her own person, repeating an incantation of some length at the same time. The lad recovered. The reciter admits the fact, but does not incline to accept the eolas performance as having caused the recovery.
A reciter in Mull was telling before her mother of the operations of a cailleach of this sort, when the mother added, she herself had spoken with the woman, she was a decent body, and assured her that there was nothing whatever wrong in what she did for the cure of cattle when hurt by the Evil Eye. The words used were good, and she repeated them, but she added that a great deal depended upon the person who applied for eolas, and that, unless such a person believed that a cure would be effectual, there was little use in what she herself could do, and no use at all in the contents of the bottle which she supplied. It might just as well be thrown out on the roadside.