The offerings, made by the St. Kildians, were indeed much the same as those commonly made in other parts of the country. We get a glimpse of what was done in the south of Scotland from Symson, who, in his quaint “Description of Galloway,” remarks:—“In this parish of Bootle, about a mile from the kirk, towards the north, is a well called the Rumbling Well, frequented by a multitude of sick people for all sorts of diseases the first Sunday of May; lying there the Saturday night, and then drinking of it early in the morning. There is also another well, about a quarter of a mile distant from the former, towards the east. This well is made use of by the country people when their cattle are troubled with a disease called by them the Connoch. This water they carry in vessels to many parts and wash their beasts with it, and give it them to drink. It is, too, remembered that at both the wells they leave behind them something by way of a thank-offering. At the first, they leave either money or clothes; at the second, they leave the bands and shackles wherewith beasts are usually bound.” The objects, commonly left on the cairns beside the Holy Pool in Strathfillan, have already been enumerated. In addition, bunches of heath, tied with worsted, were occasionally left. The Cheese Well, on Minchmoor, in Peeblesshire, was so called from the pieces of cheese thrown into it by passers-by as offerings to the fairies. Around a certain spring near Newcastle, in Northumberland, the bushes were so covered with shreds of clothing that the spring went by the name of the Rag Well. At St. Oswald’s Well, near the foot of Roseberry Topping, in Yorkshire, the pieces of cloth were so numerous that, as a spectator once remarked, they “might have made a fair ream in a paper-mill.” A contributor to “Notes and Queries,” in 1876, observes:—“The custom of hanging shreds of rags on trees as votive offerings still obtains in Ireland. I remember as a child to have been surreptitiously taken by an Irish nurse to St. John’s Well, Aghada, County Cork, on the vigil of the saint’s day, to be cured of whooping-cough by drinking three times of the water of the holy well. I shall never forget the strange spectacle of men and women, creeping on their knees in voluntary devotion, or in obedience to enjoined penance, so many times round the well, which was protected by a grey stone hood, and had a few white thorn trees growing near it, on the spines of which fluttered innumerable shreds of frieze and vary-coloured rags, the votive offerings of devotees and patients.”

In the Isle of Man, also, the custom of hanging up rags was at one time much in vogue. In Malew parish there is Chibber-Undin, signifying the Foundation Well, so called from the foundations of a now almost obliterated chapel hard by. The ritual practised at the well is thus described by Mr. A. W. Moore in his “Surnames and Place-names of the Isle of Man”:—“The patients who came to it, took a mouthful of water, retaining it in their mouths till they had twice walked round the well. They then took a piece of cloth from a garment which they had worn, wetted it from the water from the well, and hung it on the hawthorn tree which grew there. When the cloth had rotted away the cure was supposed to be effected.” Evidence from Wales to the same effect is furnished by Professor Rhys in “Folklore” for September, 1892. He there gives the following information, lately sent to him by a friend, about a Glamorganshire holy well situated between Coychurch and Bredgled:—“It is the custom,” he writes, “for people suffering from any malady to dip a rag in the water, and bathe the affected part. The rag is then placed on a tree close to the well. When I passed it, about three years ago, there were hundreds of these shreds covering the tree, and some had evidently been placed there very recently.” Professor Rhys also refers to other Glamorganshire springs where rags are to be seen hanging on trees.

Scottish examples of the same superstition are numerous. At Montblairie, in Banffshire, pieces of linen and woollen stuffs were hung on the boughs beside a consecrated well, and farthings and bodles were thrown into the spring itself. The bushes around a well at Houston, in Renfrewshire, were at one time the recipients of many a rag. Hugh Miller, who took so keen an interest in all such relics of superstition, has not failed to notice the custom as practised near his native town of Cromarty. In his “Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland,” he says:—“It is not yet twenty years since a thorn bush, which formed a little canopy over the spring of St. Bennet, used to be covered anew every season with little pieces of rag, left on it as offerings to the saint by sick people who came to drink of the water.” St. Wallach’s Bath, in Strathdeveron, was a popular health-resort till the beginning of the present century. Non-thriving children were brought to it annually in large numbers. No longer ago than 1874 an invalid from the seaside sought its aid. The bath—a cavity in the rock fully a yard in depth—is close to the river, and is supplied with water from a scanty spring, several yards higher up the slope. The supply trickles over the edge of the bath into the river, some four feet below. A bib or other part of the child’s clothing was hung on a neighbouring tree or thrown into the bath. Sometimes when the Deveron was in flood, it submerged the bath, and swept these offerings down to the sea. As previously mentioned, St. Wallach’s Well, hard by, was much resorted to for the cure of sore eyes. Pins were the usual offerings. They were left in a hole in a stone beside the well. May was the favourite season for visiting the spring, and by the end of the month the hole was often full of pins. This was the case down to a comparatively recent date.

Offerings, such as pins, were often thrown into the well itself instead of being left beside its margin. Near Wooler, in Northumberland, on the southern slopes of the Cheviots, is a spring locally styled the Pin Well. A fairy was believed to make it her home, and maidens, as they passed, dropped in a crooked pin to gain her good graces. Crooked pins were rather popular, anything so bent—e.g., a crooked sixpence—being deemed lucky. In the case of more than one English spring the notion prevailed that, when a pin was thrown in, the votary would see the pins already there rise to meet the newcomer. But faith was essential. Otherwise the mysterious vision would be withheld. We do not know that a corresponding belief prevailed north of the Tweed. Between the glens of Corgarff and Glengairn in Aberdeenshire, is the spring known as Tobar-na-Glas-a-Coille or The Well in the Grey Wood. A pin or other piece of metal had to be dropped into it by anyone taking a draught of its water. Whoever neglected this duty, and at any time afterwards again drew water from the spring, was doomed to die of thirst. Some of these votive pins were found at the bottom of the well, no longer ago than the autumn of 1891.

Probably very few travellers by the Callander and Oban railway are aware of the existence of an interesting, but now neglected holy well, only a few yards distant from the line. It is situated at the entrance of rugged Glen Ogle, and from the spot a fine view can be had of Ben Lawers, Ben More, and Ben Loy. The well is on Wester Lix farm, and is locally known as the Lix Well. The spring rises in one of the many hillocks in the neighbourhood. The top of the hillock had been levelled. Round the spring is built a wall of stone and turf, about two feet in height, and shaped like a horse-shoe, the opening being to the east. The distance across the enclosed space is about fourteen feet. In the centre is the well, in the form of a parallelogram, two feet by one and a half, with a long drain leading from it through the opening of the horse-shoe. This drain was at one time covered with flagstones. Four shapely lintels of micaceous schist enclose the well. The spot used to be frequented at the beginning of May, the wall already referred to forming a convenient resting-place for visitors. Quartz pebbles were the favourite offerings on these occasions. Immediately behind the well, quite a small cairn of them can still be seen. Pebbles were among the cheapest possible offerings, the only cost being the trouble of picking them up. Coins were rather more expensive; but, as they were commonly of small value, the outlay was trifling even in their case. The more fervent the zeal of the votary, the greater would doubtless be the length he or she would go in the matter of expense. In the parish of Culsalmond, in Aberdeenshire, a gold coin of James I. of Scotland was found associated with an ancient healing-well. Such liberality, however, was rare. After describing St. Maelrubha’s Well on Innis Maree in the “Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland,” volume iv., Sir Arthur Mitchell observes, “Near it stands an oak tree, which is studded with nails. To each of these was originally attached a piece of the clothing of some patient who had visited the spot. There are hundreds of nails, and one has still fastened to it a faded ribbon. Two bone buttons and two buckles we also found nailed to the tree. Countless pennies and halfpennies are driven edge-ways into the wood—over many the bark is closing, over many it has already closed.” Within recent years, another visitor from the south examined one of the coins stuck into the tree. It was ostensibly silver, but proved on examination to be counterfeit. The pilgrim, who left it as an offering, evidently thought that the saint could be easily imposed upon.

As in the case of the pins, the coins, given as offerings were, as a rule, thrown into the spring itself. As an example, we may cite the case of St. Jergon’s or St. Querdon’s Well in Troqueer parish, Kirkcudbrightshire. In an article in the “Transactions of the Dumfries and Galloway Natural History Society” for 1870, Mr. Patrick Dudgeon remarks, “Taking advantage of the very dry summer of last year when the spring was unusually low, I had the well thoroughly cleaned out and put in order, it having been almost obliterated by cattle being allowed to use it as a watering-place. Several hundreds of coins were found at the bottom—almost all being of the smallest description of copper coin, dating from the time of Elizabeth to that of George III …. None were of any particular interest or value; the greatest number are Scottish, and belong to the time of James VI., Charles I., and Charles II. The circumstance that no coins were found of an older date than the reign of Elizabeth is not at all conclusive that offerings of a similar nature had not been made at much earlier periods. It will be observed that the oldest coins are the thinnest, and that, although many are as thin as a sheet of writing paper, the legend on them is perfectly distinct and legible; this, of course, would not have been the case had the thinning process been owing to wear and tear. When first taken out, they were perfectly bright—as new copper—and had all the appearance of having been subjected to the action of an acid. Something in the water has acted very slowly as a solvent on the metal, and, acting quite equally over the whole surface, has reduced the coins to their present state: it is, therefore, reasonable to conclude that, owing to the solvent properties of the water, any coins thrown into the well anterior to the date of those found may have been completely dissolved.” Mr. Dudgeon mentions having been told by old people in the neighbourhood, that they remembered the time, when rags and ribbons were hung on the bushes around the well. It is a remarkable circumstance that even since the cleaning out of the spring above referred to, coins have been thrown into it. A recent examination of the spot brought these to light, and showed the persistence of this curious phase of well-worship.

What would be styled “a collection in silver” in modern ecclesiastical language was sometimes regarded with special favour. The name of the Silver Wells in different parts of the country can thus be accounted for. There is a Siller Well in Walston parish, Lanarkshire. Arbroath, in Forfarshire; Alvah, in Banffshire; and Fraserburgh, in Aberdeenshire, have each their Silver Well. At Turriff, in the last-mentioned county, there is a farm on the estate of Gask called Silver Wells after a local spring. At Trelevean, in Cornwall, is a spring known as the Brass Well. Its name, however, is derived not from the nature of the offerings left there, but from the colour of the scum on its surface. Close to the ruins of Avoch Castle, in the Black Isle, is a well hollowed out of the conglomerate rock. Tradition says, that the treasures of the castle were thrown into it about the middle of the seventeenth century. This was done, not by way of offering a gift to the presiding spirit of the water, but to prevent the valuables from falling into the hands of Cromwell’s troops. A diamond ring was dropped, not very long ago, into St. Molio’s Well, on Holy Island, near Lamlash. It fell into the water by accident, and, after remaining in it for some time, was found and restored to its owner.

The present ample water-supply of Glasgow from Loch Katrine was introduced in 1859. For about fifty years before that date, the city looked mainly to the Clyde for the supply of its daily needs. Still earlier, it depended entirely on its wells. In 1736 these are believed to have numbered about thirty in all. Among the best known were the Deanside or Meadow Well, Bogle’s Well, Barrasyett Well near the foot of Saltmarket, the Priest’s or Minister’s Well and Lady Well beside the Molendinar, the Arns Well in the Green—so-called from the alders on its brink, and St. Thenew’s Well, near what is now St. Enoch’s Square. Not far from the well was a chapel dedicated to St. Thenew, with a graveyard round it. Some remains of the chapel were to be seen in 1736, when M’Ure wrote his history of the city. Dr. Andrew MacGeorge, in his “Old Glasgow,” when describing St. Thenew’s Well, remarks, “It was shaded by an old tree which drooped over the well, and which remained till the end of the last century. On this tree, the devotees, who frequented the well, were accustomed to nail, as thank-offerings, small bits of tin-iron—probably manufactured for that purpose by a craftsman in the neighbourhood—representing the parts of the body supposed to have been cured by the virtues of the sacred spring, such as eyes, hands, feet, ears, and others.” Dr. MacGeorge further mentions that the well was cleaned out about a hundred years ago. On that occasion there were “picked out from among the debris at the bottom several of these old votive offerings which had dropped into it from the tree, the stump of which was at that time still standing.”

Horace tells of a shipwrecked sailor, hanging up his garments, as a thank-offering in the temple of the divinity who delivered him from the angry sea. In like manner, Pennant describes what he saw at St. Winifred’s Well, in North Wales. “All infirmities,” he says, “incident to the human body, met with relief; the votive crutches, the barrows and other proofs of cures, to this moment remain as evidence pendent over the well.” In his “Spring of Kinghorn Craig,” published in Edinburgh in 1618, Dr. Patrick Anderson has some curious remarks on the subject of votive offerings. He speaks of wells as being “all tapestried about with old rags, as certaine signes and sacraments wherewith they arle the well with ane arls-pennie of their health.” He continues, “So suttle is that false knave making them believe that it is only the virtue of the water, and no thing else. Such people cannot say with David, ‘The Lord is my helper,’ but the Devill.” What can still be seen on the other side of the English Channel is thus described by the Rev. C. N. Barham, in an article on Ragged Relics, in “The Antiquary” for January, 1893:—“At Wierre Effroy, in France, where the water of St. Godeleine’s Well is esteemed efficacious for ague, rheumatism, gout, and all affections of the limbs, a heterogeneous collection of crutches, bandages, coils of rags, and other rejected adjuncts of medical treatment, is to be seen hanging upon the surrounding shrubs. They are intended as thank-offerings and testimonies of restoration. Other springs, famous for curing ophthalmia, abound in the same district, and here too, bandages, shades, guards, and rags innumerable are exhibited.”

The leaving of offerings at wells finds a parallel in the practice, at one time common, of depositing gifts in consecrated buildings. The chapel of St. Tears, in the parish of Wick, Caithness, used to be visited on Childermas (December 28th) by devotees, who left in it pieces of bread and cheese as offerings to the souls of the Holy Innocents slain by Herod. This was done till about the beginning of the present century. Till even a later date it was customary for the inhabitants of Mirelandorn to go to the Kirk of Moss, in the same parish, on Christmas before sunrise. They took bread and cheese as offerings, and placed them along with a silver coin on a certain stone. The Kirk of Moss was dedicated to Duthac, patron saint of Tain; and the gifts were doubtless destined for him. On Eilean Mòr is a chapel said to have been built by Charmaig, the tutelar saint of the island. In a recess in this building is a stone coffin, anciently used for the interment of priests. The following statement occurs in the “Old Statistical Account of Scotland”:—“The coffin, also, for ages back, has served the saint as a treasury; and this, perhaps, might be the purpose for which it was originally intended. Till of late, not a stranger set foot on the island who did not conciliate his favour by dropping a small coin into a chink between its cover and side.”