“An old man who lived at Crossibeg, four generations ago, saw visions, which were explained to
him by a supernatural being, descriptive of future events in Kintyre. An account of them was printed, and entitled ‘Porter’s Prophecies,’ which I have perused, but cannot tell if any of them have come to pass as yet, but some people believed them.
“The Laird of Caraskie, more than a century ago, is said to have had a familiar spirit called Beag-bheul, or little mouth, which talked to him, and took great care of him and his property. The spirit told him of a great battle which would be fought in Kintyre, and that the magpie would drink human blood from off a standing stone erected near Campbeltown. The stone was removed, and set as a bridge over the mill water, over which I have often traversed; but the battle has not been fought as yet, and perhaps never will be.
“The Rev. Mr. Boes, a minister of Campbeltown, more than a century ago, was said to have the second sight. One time being at the Assembly, and coming home on Saturday to preach to his congregation, he was overtaken by a storm, which drove the packet into Rothesay. He went to preach in the church on the Sabbath. The rafters of the church above not being lathed, in
the middle of his sermon he looked up, and with a loud voice cried, ‘Ye’re there, Satan; ye kept me from preaching to my own congregation, but ye cannot keep me from preaching for all that,’ and then went on with his sermon. At another time, his congregation having assembled on the Sabbath as usual, the minister was walking rapidly on the grass after the time of meeting, the elders not being willing to disturb him by telling him the time was expired. At last he clapped his hands, exclaiming, ‘Well done, John;’ the Duke of Argyle being at that moment at the head of the British army in Flanders fighting a battle in which he was victorious. The minister, by the power of the second sight, witnessed the battle, and exclaimed, when he saw it won, ‘Well done, John.’ He went afterwards and preached to his congregation.
“Another Sabbath, when preaching, a member of the congregation having fallen asleep, he cried to him ‘Awake.’ In a short time the man fell asleep again. The minister bade him awake again and hear the sermon. The man fell asleep the third time, when the minister cried, with a loud voice, ‘Awake, and hear this sermon, for it will be the last you will ever hear in this
life.’ Before the next Sabbath the man was dead. On the morning of a Communion Sabbath, Mr. Boes got up very early, convinced that something was wrong about the church. He examined it, and found that the beams of the gallery were almost sawn through by the emissaries of Satan, in order that the congregation, by the falling of the gallery, might be killed. He got carpenters and smiths employed till they put the church in a safe state, and proceeded with the solemn service of the day with great earnestness. Mr. Boes was sometimes severely tried with temptations, having imaginary combats with Satan, and, being very ill-natured, he would not allow any person to come near him. On one of these occasions he shut himself up in his room for three days. His wife being afraid he would starve with hunger, sent the servant-man with food to him, but the minister scattered it on the floor. The servant-man exclaimed, ‘The devil’s in the man!’ In a moment the minister, becoming calm, answered, ‘You are quite right,’ then partook of the food, and returned to his former habits.”
The following is a good illustration of an olden chief:—We have many traditional stories about
Saddell Castle, in which Mr. M‘Donald or “Righ Fionghal” resided. He claimed despotic power over the inhabitants of Kintyre. It is said he knew the use of gunpowder, and often made a bad use of it. He would for sport shoot people, though they did him no harm, with his long gun, which was kept in Carradale for a long time after his death. His character is represented as being very tyrannical. Being once in Ireland, he saw a beautiful married woman, whom he fancied, and took away from her husband to Saddell. Her husband followed; but M‘Donald finding him, intended to have starved him to death without his wife knowing it. He was put in a barn, but he kept himself alive by eating the corn which he found there. M‘Donald removed him to another place, but a hen came in every day and kept him alive with her eggs. M‘Donald was anxious that the poor man should die, and placed him in another place, where he got nothing to eat, and it is said the miserable prisoner ate his own hand, then his arm to the elbow, before he died, and said, in Gaelic, “Dh’ith mi mo choig meoir a’s mo lamh gu’m uilleann. Is mor a thig air neach nach eiginu fhulang.” When they were burying him, his wife was on the top of the
castle, and asked whose funeral it was; she was told it was Thomson’s. “Is it my Thomson?” she inquired. “Yes,” they replied. She then said they might stop for a little till she would be with them. She immediately threw herself over the castle wall, and was carried dead with her husband to the same grave.