Witchcraft & Second Sight in the Highlands & Islands of Scotland / Tales and Traditions Collected Entirely from Oral Sources

by John Gregorson Campbell

The attributes of the Fuath are different in different tales, and Mr. Campbell (Tales of the West Highlands, ii. 191) has fallen into the error of conjoining attributes ascribed in several stories, and representing the Fuath as a water spirit, having web-feet, tail, mane, etc. The name of a desolate moor near Ullapool, in Ross-shire, “The Flat-stoned Declivity of Fuaths” (Leathad leacanta nam Fuath), is alone convincing it was not deemed particularly a water spirit.

The following tales will illustrate the character of Highland hobgoblins and such-like objects of terror better than a lengthened disquisition.

CACHLAIDH NA FEUSAIG, ISLAY.

At the bottom of a dell, or hollow, through which the public road lies, in the island of Islay, there was a gate across the road, bearing the above name, which means “The Beard gateway.” At this place things unearthly were encountered after dark. One night a man saw an indistinct object coming towards him. He could give no account of it, but that its mouth was wide open, as if to devour him, and that from the width of its gape he could see its lungs (sgamhan) down its throat. He was accompanied, fortunately, by a large Newfoundland dog, which rushed between his legs at the “thing,” and a terrific fight ensued. He ran away home, leaving them at it. In the morning the dog came without any hair on its body, and shortly after its return expired.

About the middle of February, a party was coming home from the market held on the Level Ridge (Imire Còmhnard) at Ballygrant (Ugly Town). Before parting they entered a roadside inn. One of them, Ewen M’Corkindale, had, after leaving, to pass through the Beard gateway and the haunted dell. His companions made fun of him, and asked him if he was not afraid of the Bodach, the carle, or old man, who haunted the dell. Out of fool-hardiness, Ewen proposed “the health of the bodach, the old man, and let the cailleach, the old wife, go to the dogs.” When he reached the haunted spot two apparitions, an old man and an old woman, met him. The old woman endeavoured to attack him, but the old man kept her off, and ever after, at every opportunity, the same scene was rehearsed, the old wife attacked him and the old man defended him. The latter also told him to go to a smithy in Ireland, others say to two brothers in Cantyre, and get a dirk made, and as long as he kept this on his person the old woman would not venture to attack him. The dirk bent three times in the making, and from its possession Ewen acquired the title of “Ewen of the Dirk” (Eoghan na biodaig). As he was working one evening by moonlight in the harvest field, he left the dirk on a stook of corn, along with his vest. The carlin wife got between him and the dirk, and gave him such a squeeze that he put out three mouthfuls of blood. The bodach came, but too late, to his rescue. It however, told him, that if he survived till cock-crowing, five years would be added to his life. Ewen woke up now and then to ask if the cock crew yet, but when it did it was too late. Very likely the poor man died of some rupture or heart disease. The dirk was preserved by his son.

THE HEADLESS BODY (Colann gun cheann).

At the shore and forming part of the boundary between North and South Morar,[34] on the west coast of Inverness-shire, there is a large rocky mound (cnoc mòr creige), which was long the cause of terror in the district. At the base of the mound a road can be taken along the shore when the tide is out. No one, however, taking it alone after nightfall, lived to tell the tale. His remains were found next day among the large boulder stones (eòmach mòr chlach), of which the shore is full, mangled, and bearing traces of a ghastly and unnatural death. Persons who had the second sight looking over the rocks that overhang the shore said they saw a phantom or “something” haunting the place, having the shape of a headless human figure. Macdonall or MacCuïl, as he is styled, of South Morar (Mac Dhughaill mhòrair), whose house was not far from the scene of the Headless Body’s violence, unexpectedly became the means of expelling it from its haunt. He was one winter evening unexpectedly visited by a friend. He had no one to send to Bracara across the river, to invite some more friends to come and join in the entertainment of his guest but his son and heir, then about 18 years of age. He strictly enjoined the youth not to return that night unless men came with him, for fear of the Headless Body. The young man did not find the friends he was sent for at home, and with the temerity natural to his years came back alone. The Body met him and killed him, and in the morning were found traces of a fearful struggle, large stones displaced and clots of blood, as if the youth had put out his heart’s blood. MacCuïl made a solemn vow neither to eat nor drink till he avenged his son’s death. All that evening his friends tried to persuade him to remain at home, but to no purpose. The Headless Body never appeared but to those who passed its way alone, and the chief’s friends had to return while he went on unaccompanied to the haunted rocks. The Body came out and said, “You have come to take your son’s ransom (éiric); take counsel, and go home.” To this the chief replied by clasping his arms round the hated apparition. A furious struggle commenced, and to this day the stones may be seen which were rolled out of their way in the dread encounter. At last the strong and fearless chief got the Headless Body under, and drew his dirk to stab it. The Body cried, “Hold your hand, MacCuïl, touch me not with the iron, and while there is one within the twentieth degree related to you (air an fhicheadamh miar) in Morar, I will not again be seen.”

When this story was heard some years ago there were only two alive within this relationship to the ancient chief, one a harmless idiot, the other a poor woman in Fort William. One or other of them must be still alive, for the Headless Ghost has not yet made its reappearance. The person from whom it was heard, was a firm believer in its truth, and in his youth, half a century ago, was well acquainted with the district in which the events were said to have occurred. He had learned and practised the tailoring trade there.

Another, and somewhat different, version of the tale will be found in Campbell’s West Highland Tales, ii. 89. In it the subduing of the ghost is ascribed to Stout John, Laird of Raasay, a proof of the manner in which floating popular tales attach themselves to known characters. The words ascribed to the Body as it went away, were composed in the East Indies by a piper of the name of Bruce from East-side, Skye. Beinn Heidera and Bealach a Bhorbhain are both in East-side, Skye. The words are an adaptation of an old tune, “Thogainn fonn air gille an t-sealgair.”

The tale quoted by Scott (Lay of the Last Minstrel note Q) from Henry the Minstrel, of Sir William Wallace’s encounter with the Headless Body is also known in the Hebrides, and has been told to the writer by a native of the extreme west of Tiree. According to this version, Macfadyen’s head was cut off by Wallace to avoid his falling alive into the hands of the English. Macfadyen was an old man and not able to keep up with the rest of the retreating company. When Wallace himself went to open the door, the Headless Body stood holding the head by the hair in its hand, and threw it at Wallace. Wallace picked it up and flung it out at the door as far as he could. The Headless Body went in search of it and Wallace made his escape by a window on the opposite side of the castle.