Evil eye in the western Highlands

by Robert Craig Maclagan

So far the information might lead one to suppose that an incantation said over water was sufficient in the beliefs of the operators. This is however not the case, and there can be little doubt that to make the incantation effective the water should have been in contact with silver. A native of Harris said that he has heard of the “water of silver” as a cure for people and beasts affected by the Evil Eye, and also as a preventative of such injury if apprehended. In one instance which came under his own observation, a respectable and intelligent woman, to protect her cow and the milk and butter, first time she went to milk the cow after calving, put a half-crown piece in the bottom of the pail and drew the milk on to it. A friend who accompanied her saw the whole performance.

A native of Islay informed us that for curing eyes of those suffering from cronachadh you should put “three bawbees in the water”; while a native of Oban says that in all cases of cronachadh where water is used as a cure it must be poured on silver.

A clergyman living in Skye recently heard of a case in the parish of Kildonan where water in which silver had been immersed was sprinkled upon a cow which was unwell. The further information in this case was that the woman in the district specially referred to was exceedingly superstitious, and expressed her belief that she would become a bird after death. She always repeated a rhyme when operating upon cattle. She had died shortly before our reciter went to Skye.

A school teacher, a native of Skye and carrying on her occupation in Argyllshire, confirms the strong belief in the Evil Eye in certain places. A few years ago in D—— a young woman was driving her cow to pasture when the cow fell. Her owner turned towards a neighbour’s daughter who had been looking at them passing and scolded her for the accident, finishing by stating that the onlooker was “mad.” The retort was that that affliction was hereditary with the cow’s owner. The interchange of compliments got the credit of curing the cow, which arose and went its way. The cure, according to this reciter, for any sudden sickness in cattle was to take a threepenny bit, or any small silver, and ask a blessing on it in the name of the Father, place it in a basin, pour water on it, and dash over the cow in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

In the following case the operation, though carried out by Gaelic-speaking Highlanders, was conducted in the Lowlands. A child was supposed to be the victim of cronachadh, and the operator was the daughter of a woman who had practised eolas. A fellow-servant of the operator was the reciter. “Water was procured from a running stream, it being necessary that the person bringing the water should have a piece of bread of some sort in his possession at the time. A silver coin was put in the dish in which the water was, and the operator waved the dish in a particular manner and then sprinkled some of the water on the child. The remainder was then dashed against a large stone. Stress was laid on the necessity of this part of the performance, it being essential that the stone was immovable. A solid wall, for instance the gable of a house, was said to be equally efficient.[12]

[12] If, as the writer believes, the original fluid was that mentioned in 1 Kings xiv. 10, xvi. 11, the deduction is that it should be that of a male, not a female.

Brought up in a Presbyterian community, the writer has little knowledge of the manœuvres of traditional Episcopacy or Romanism, but while speaking of this a friend, whose niece was being baptized in a hurry, gives the following information. Though the child was supposed to be dying, the officiating clergyman had first to array himself in his official costume, and then, producing a small alabaster font, prepared the water of baptism in that. Having performed the ceremony, he turned to the infant’s aunt and requested to be taken to the garden, to which he himself carried the water and emptied it on the ground. Our informant, herself a Presbyterian, was speaking of the matter afterwards to the certificated nurse. She said the performance was not new to her, and told how in a like case the clergyman, not being provided with his own font, and asking for a basin, was given a nice Sèvres bowl. After the ceremony he also proceeded outside, and not only emptied out the water, but deliberately smashed the basin to prevent its subsequent use for any other purpose.

A variation in the ceremony occurred in the following case, the operator being a Lewis man. He had a nice foal which had been a good deal admired, and he was desirous of protecting it from the Evil Eye. Putting a silver coin in a dish he poured water on it. He then poured off about half of the water, apparently making a libation, and the other half he sprinkled over the foal. After this treatment he considered it would be difficult for any Evil Eye to injure it.

A native of Bernera, Harris, who can neither read nor write and has no English, shortens the process. “Tha rathad eile anns an gabh cronachadh bhi air a chuir air falbh. Nan gabhadh neach bonn airgeid ann a’ laimh agus uisge dhoirteadh air an t-airgiod agus an sin a lamh fhliuch a shuathadh air aodan an leanabh. Dheanadh sin e.” (“There is another way in which cronachadh can be cured. If one takes a piece of silver in his hand and pours water on the silver and then rubs his wet hand on the child’s face. That would do it.”)

In tracing the accounts we have received of this Evil Eye water we started with those which seemed to deal with plain water, then with water in which one coin, and that necessarily of silver, had been placed, and now we will consider those cases where more than one coin has been used. The number seems always to be, in this case, limited to three. A native of Sutherlandshire, now resident in the mainland of Argyle, remembers as a boy accompanying an old woman to a certain well near his native place for water to be used to cure a sick child, believed to have been air a chronachadh. The woman had a tin can with her into which she put a sixpence, a threepenny bit, and other coins, said our informant, all silver. Before setting out he was warned that he must not speak a word, but forgetting himself he began to talk. The woman instantly stopped him, insisting that he must return home at once if he uttered another word. He kept silence after that, and when they returned with the water the woman whom he had accompanied sprinkled it on the sick child.