Martin relates, that the natives of South-Uist believed that a valley called Glenslyte, situated between two mountains on the east side of the island, was haunted by spirits, whom they called the Great Men, and that if any man or woman entered the valley without first making an entire resignation of themselves to the conduct of the great men, they would infallibly grow mad. The words by which they gave themselves up to the guidance of these men are comprehended in three sentences, wherein the glen is twice named. This author remonstrated with the inhabitants upon this “piece of silly credulity,” but they answered that there had been recently an instance of a woman who went into the glen without resigning herself to the guidance of the great men, “and immediately after she became mad; which confirmed them in their unreasonable fancy.” He also observes, that the people who resided in the glen in summer, said, they sometimes heard a loud noise in the air like men speaking.[483]
The same writer mentions a universal custom among the inhabitants of the Western Islands, of pouring a cow’s milk upon a little hill, or big stone, where a spirit they called Brownie, was believed to lodge, which spirit always appeared in the shape of a tall man, with very long brown hair. On inquiring “from several well-meaning women, who, until of late, had practised it,” they told Martin that it had been transmitted to them by their ancestors, who believed it was attended with good fortune, but the most credulous of the vulgar had then laid it aside.
It was also customary among the “over-curious,” in the Western Islands, to consult an invisible oracle, concerning the fate of families, battles, &c. This was done three different ways; the first was by a company of men, one of whom being chosen by lot, was afterwards carried to a river, the boundary between two villages: four of the company seized on him, and having shut his eyes, they took him by the legs and arms, and then tossing him to and fro, struck his posteriors with force against the bank. One of them then cried out, What is it you have got here? Another answered, A log of birch wood. The other cried again, Let his invisible friends appear from all quarters, and let them relieve him, by giving an answer to our present demands; and in a few minutes after, a number of little creatures came from the sea, who answered the question, and disappeared suddenly. The man was then set at liberty, and they all returned home to take their measures according to the prediction of their false prophets. This was always practised at night.
The second way of consulting the oracle was by a party of men, who first retired to solitary places, remote from any house, and then singling out one of their number, wrapt him in a large cow’s hide, which they folded about him, covering all but his head, in which posture they left him all night until his invisible friends relieved him by giving a proper answer to the question put; which answer he received, as he fancied, from several persons he found about him all that time. His companions returned to him at break of day when he communicated his news to them, which it is said “often proved fatal to those concerned in such unlawful inquiries.”[484]
The third way of consulting the oracle, and which consultation was to serve as a confirmation of the second, was this: The same company who put the man into the hide, took a live cat and put him on a spit. One of the company was employed to turn the spit, and when in the act of turning, one of his companions would ask him, what are you doing? He answered, I roast this cat, until his friends answer the question, the same as that proposed to the man inclosed in the hide. Afterwards a very large cat was said to come, attended by a number of lesser cats, desiring to relieve the cat turned upon the spit, and answered the question. And if the answer turned out to be the same that was given to the man in the hide, then it was taken as a confirmation of the other, which in this case was believed infallible.[485]
A singular practice called Deis-iuil existed in the Western Islands, so called from a man going round carrying fire in his right hand, which in the Gaelic is called Deas. In the island of Lewis this fiery circuit was made about the houses, corn, cattle, &c., of each particular family, to protect them from the power of evil spirits. The fire was also carried round about women before they were churched after child-bearing, and about children till they were baptized. This ceremony was performed in the morning and at night, and was practised by some of the old midwives in Martin’s time. Some of them told him that ‘the fire-round was an effectual means of preserving both the mother and the infant from the power of evil spirits, who are ready at such times to do mischief, and sometimes carry away the infant; and when they get them once in their possession, return them poor meagre skeletons; and these infants are said to have voracious appetites, constantly craving for meat. In this case it was usual with those who believed that their children were thus taken away, to dig a grave in the fields upon quarter-day, and there to lay the fairy skeleton till next morning; at which time the parents went to the place, where they doubted not to find their own child instead of this skeleton. Some of the poorer sort of people in these islands long retained a custom of performing rounds sun-wise, about the persons of their benefactors three times, when they blessed them, and wished good success to all their enterprises. Some were very careful, when they set out to sea, that the boat should be first rowed about sun-wise; and if this was neglected, they were afraid their voyage would prove unfortunate.’
A prevailing superstition also existed in the Western Islands, and among the inhabitants of the neighbouring coast, that women, by a certain charm or by some secret influence, could withdraw and appropriate to their own use the increase of their neighbour’s cow’s milk. It was believed, however, that the milk so charmed did not produce the ordinary quantity of butter usually churned from other milk, and that the curds made of such milk were so tough that they could not be made so firm as other cheese, and that it was also much lighter in weight. It was also believed that the butter produced from the charmed milk could be discovered from that yielded from the charmer’s own milk, by a difference in the colour, the former being of a paler hue than the latter. The woman in whose possession butter so distinguished was found, was considered to be guilty. To bring back the increase of milk, it was usual to take a little of the rennet from all the suspected persons, and put it into an egg shell full of milk, and when the rennet taken from the charmer was mingled with it, it was said presently to curdle, but not before. Some women put the root of groundsel among their cream as an amulet against such charms.
In retaliation for washing dishes, wherein milk was kept, in streams or rivulets in which trouts were, it was believed that they prevented or took away an increase of milk, and the damage thus occasioned could only be repaired by taking a live trout and pouring milk into its mouth. If the milk curdled immediately, this was a sure sign of its being taken away by trouts; if not, the inhabitants ascribed the evil to some other cause. Some women, it was affirmed, had the art to take away the milk of nurses.
A similar superstition existed as to malt, the virtues of which were said to be sometimes imperceptibly filched, by some charm, before being used, so that the drink made of this malt had neither strength nor good taste, while, on the contrary, the supposed charmer had very good ale all the time. The following curious story is told by Martin in relation to this subject. “A gentleman of my acquaintance, for the space of a year, could not have a drop of good ale in his house; and having complained of it to all that conversed with him, he was at last advised to get some yeast from every alehouse in the parish; and having got a little from one particular man, he put it among his wort, which became as good ale as could be drank, and so defeated the charm. After which, the gentleman on whose land this man lived, banished him thirty-six miles from thence.”[486]
A singular mode of divination was sometimes practised by the Highlanders with bones. Having picked the flesh clean off a shoulder-blade of mutton, which was supposed to lose its virtue if touched by iron, they turned towards the east, and with looks steadily fixed on the transparent bone they pretended to foretell deaths, burials, &c.