St. Martin was a bad man before his conversion, and, above all, was
exceedingly close-fisted, as they say, to the poor; giving nothing and
grasping all. So he was very rich but hated by every one.
One day, when going out, he charged the servant to have a fine batch
of loaves ready made and baked by the time he returned. While she was
kneading the dough in came a poor man and begged for some as he was
hungry; but she told him she dare not give away anything or the master
would beat her. Still the poor man begged the harder, and at last she
gave him dough enough for a couple of loaves. However, when the girl’s
back was turned, he threw the dough into the oven and went his way
without a word.
Now when the dough was ready, the girl opened the oven to put in the
loaves, but, behold, it was already quite full of baked bread, and
would hold no more. So when Martin came home she told him all the
truth; and his heart smote him, and he cried out, “An Angel of the Lord
has been here; God has sent His messenger to rebuke me of my sins!” And
he ran out to search for the man along the road, and at last saw him
a great way off. Then Martin flung off his coat that he might run the
faster; and when he came up to the man he fell on his knees before him
on the ground, and cried out, “Oh, my Lord, I repent me of my sins;
pray to God for me, for I know you are His angel.” And from that moment
Martin’s heart was changed, and the devil left him; and he became a
true saint and servant of God, and, above all, the saint and patron of
the poor.
Nevertheless, St. Bridget was offended with St. Martin, because
she thought he did not receive her with sufficient hospitality and
consideration. Perhaps some of the old stinginess of nature still clung
to him. And she thus pronounced her malediction over him—
“Oh, little man, the sea-wave shall come up over thy house, and thy
name shall lie in ashes, while my name and fame shall be glorious all
over the world.”
And this was fulfilled; for the sea actually broke in and covered the
saint’s dwelling; and the house of St. Martin can still be seen low
down beneath the waves, but if any one tries to reach it the house
fades away into the mist and is seen no more.
There is an old superstition still observed by the people, that blood
must be spilt on St. Martin’s Day; so a goose is killed, or a black
cock, and the blood is sprinkled over the floor and on the threshold.
And some of the flesh is given to the first beggar that comes by, in
the name and in honour of St. Martin.
In the Arran Isles St. Martin’s Day is observed with particular
solemnity, and it was held necessary, from ancient times, to spill
blood on the ground in honour of the saint. For this purpose a cock was
sacrificed; but if such could not be procured people have been known
to cut their finger in order to draw blood, and let it fall upon the
earth. The custom arose in this way:—St. Martin, having given away
all his goods to the poor, was often in want of food, and one day he
entered a widow’s house and begged for something to eat. The widow was
poor, and having no food in the house, she sacrificed her young child,
boiled it, and set it before the saint for supper. Having eaten, and
taken his departure, the woman went over to the cradle to weep for her
lost child; when lo! there he was, lying whole and well, in a beautiful
sleep, as if no evil had ever happened to him; and to commemorate this
miracle and from gratitude to the saint, a sacrifice of some living
thing is made yearly in his honour. The blood is poured or sprinkled on
the ground, and along the door-posts, and both within and without the
threshold, and at the four corners of each room in the house.
For this symbol of purification by blood the rich farmers sacrifice a
sheep; while the poorer people kill a black cock or a white hen, and
sprinkle the blood according to ancient usage. Afterwards the whole
family dine upon the sacrificial victim.
In some places it was the custom for the master of the house to draw a
cross on the arm of each member of the family and mark it out in blood.
This was a very sacred sign which no fairy or evil spirit, were they
ever so strong, could overcome; and whoever was signed with the blood
was safe.
There is a singular superstition forbidding work of a certain kind to
be done on St. Martin’s Day, the 11th of November. No woman should spin
on that day; no miller should grind his corn, and no wheel should be
turned. And this custom was long held sacred, and is still observed in
the Western Islands.