Evil eye in the western Highlands

by Robert Craig Maclagan

We have pointed out that even the Church has been brought in contact with the Evil Eye scientist, and the following information from a well-informed, clever, middle-aged lady, the sister of a clergyman whose father took an interest in traditional Gaelic matters, as she does herself, was heard from a Sutherlandshire minister who recited it to her mother. The milk of their cows being unsatisfactory, the housekeeper asked leave to consult an eolas man. The minister was very angry, but the housekeeper stuck to her text and carried out her purpose, telling the minister, “Na gabhadh sibhse gnothuch sam bith leis, agus chi mise de ni mi.” (“Take you nothing to do with it, and I’ll see what I’ll do.”) She got the eolas man, and he asked for a basin of the sort of watery stuff they were getting instead of milk. When he got it he closed up every hole and crevice, even stuffing up the key-hole. Then he put the milky water on the fire, and when it was hot he took a knife and began to cut with it through the pot of milk. While at this work a woman came to the door, screamed, and wanted to get in; but he cried to her that he would give her plenty of it, and he continued cutting away through the milk. Still she screamed and begged him to let her come in, but he said he would not until she would promise to give up her wicked work and give the toradh back to the minister’s cow, all the time continuing cutting with the knife. She answered she would promise everything he wanted, for every cut of the knife was going through her heart. The man then opened the door and took the pot off the fire, and from that time the supply of milk, both for quantity and quality, was satisfactory. In this case also, though the authority is thoroughly respectable, it is impossible to say what actually took place. In fact it may be that our informant may have mistaken a traditional recitation as the experience of the reciter himself. Though told àpropos of the Evil Eye, looking at the story in all its bearings, it looks as if it had been, if it happened at all, a case of pull devil pull baker between two witches, one of whom was supposed to be taking the minister’s milk.

But your witch, male or female, still exists, and his presence probably does not conduce to harmony in his neighbourhood. Two brothers lived beside the father of our reciter in J——. They had a bit of land between them, and their dwelling-houses stood end to end under one roof. The wife of the one brother suspected the wife of the other of injuriously affecting her dairy products by the Evil Eye. She persuaded her husband to take her part, and he crossed to I—— to consult one having the reputation of witchcraft there. The witch resolved to go in person to examine into the matter, and he accompanied the man home, where he assured the couple who considered themselves injured that he would bring the injurer crying to their door. The suspected woman, already much annoyed, sent for the reciter’s mother to come to her, who found her sitting in tears. The visitor encouraged her, told her it was all nonsense and advised her not to be downcast, and returned home. Shortly thereafter she had a visit from the woman complaining, who told her with glee that the man consulted had put them on a plan for finding out who was injuring their milk. The mutual friend received this information coldly, and proceeded to point out that there were no grounds for suspecting any one outside her own house, and advised her to go home, well clean her dishes and keep her eye on her daughter, assuring her that if she did that she would probably have satisfaction with her milk and cream. The result was quite satisfactory, as it turned out to be as suspected, that the daughter helped herself in her mother’s absence.

PUTTING ELSEWHERE

The procedure of the eolas woman in Bernera (Harris), given above, burning two of the knots of the charmed string to carry off the disease, stating as she put each knot in the fire, “The disease and the sickness I would put on the top of the fire,” it is evident that the evil was treated as something capable of being destroyed, in that case by the action of fire. The same idea appears in the following:—

The reciter remembered when misfortune came to their cattle. One cow after another died, and then a horse died, and her brother, a good deal older than herself, saying he could stand it no longer, went to consult an eolas man. The latter professed to understand the case, said it was an Evil Eye that had done the mischief, and offered there and then to make the individual appear before him so that he would know who it was. Her brother refused to accept this offer, and the proposition made to him then was that the illness should be transferred to the cattle of the wrong-doer. This also met with disapproval, and then it was proposed that the illness should be thrown in the sea. The cure in this case was connected with waving the tether over the sick horse.

In another Islay case where the dosgach was supposed to have come to the locality with a newlymarried wife of one of two brothers, a reputed curer was consulted. He made out that it was a case of buidseachas, and he offered to put the dosgach on any of the consulters’ neighbours’ cattle. This did not meet with the farmer’s approval, as he was unwilling that his neighbours should suffer, so he declined to mention any name, but recommended that the evil effect should be put in the sea. One can scarcely doubt that, there being cattle sickness in the district, the chances were in favour of the cattle of any named person being affected, so that even if the offer had been accepted and the farmer committed himself as desiring harm to his neighbour, the eolas man’s credit or discredit would have been maintained. He must by this time have had a fair idea of the disposition of the man he was dealing with, and probably expected that his offer next made to show him for half-a-crown the individual in fault would be refused. It was so, and the reciter gave the reason for this refusal, viz. that it would be an t-aibhisdear (the adversary, the devil), who would appear in the likeness of a man. This explains sufficiently the reason influencing those who refuse such offers, even if one did see an appearance which was recognisable. The evidence that the individual shown did it was unreliable. The devil has been a deceiver from the beginning, and if the vision was that of him masquerading, doubtless for his own purposes, he might be deceiving the inquirer.

The above story was told by the daughter of one of the two brothers concerned, and she vouches for the truth of it, having heard her father and uncle talk of it often and often. She added a curious incident, which seems to have had something to do with the diagnosis of the case. The man consulted the “Red Witch,” as he was called, and sent the farmer back “for the twelve points of the sick cow.” It was explained that this meant the tips of the horns, ears, hoofs, &c. These were examined, and the opinion expressed that the cow could not be cured, for the mischief had got too near her heart, but it could be lifted from all the rest, so that it would not trouble them any more. She further explained that they were led to understand that it was two brothers who were doing the harm, and we notice that it was two brothers who were consulting the witch doctor. She said that the sickness was put into the sea.

From another case we get information of how this could be done. “A stirk of my father’s was ill, and we sent to a man for a cure. He sent a bottle with instructions that part of it was to be sprinkled on the stirk, and the rest thrown into the sea. As soon as what was in the bottle went on the beast, its horns got warm. We threw the rest of the stuff into the sea as ordered, and after that the stirk got quite well.”

It has been pointed out already that there is no witchcraft necessary to the Evil Eye, but that the processes for its cure undoubtedly are witchcraft. The following will show the idea prevalent as to the powers of transferring illness.

The reciter, an Islay woman, said: “There was a lad at service with Malcolm here beside us. He was one of the T.’s. He used to come our way, and my father said to me not to have too much to do with him, for there was something wrong about him (hereditary witch power). Well, while that lad was beside us every foal that we had died. One day my father went towards the march between ourselves and Malcolm. It was pretty early, and he noticed the dog sniffing between two little hillocks there. He went over to see what the dog was at, and what did he find but a foal’s head buried under the ground. It was the head of a foal of Malcolm’s that had died, and the lad had buried it at our march to put the trouble upon us. My father was terribly angry (fuasach angrach), for he would not do the like to another man. He lifted the head and threw it into a drain, where it would not do any harm and away from every man. Ach coma leibh (but all the same), the time of one of our mares was out, and when she cast (her foal), what was there but two heads on the foal.” The reciter went on to say that that lad left Malcolm and went to Fair Peter, but Peter got his burning with him, for while he was with him the foals were dying on him, Besides the harm that was done to what belonged to his master, he (the lad) got a piece of a dead calf and put it on a neighbour’s land, and with this that neighbour’s calves “began to go on him.”