in the same island, gave the same information, but quoting an older
authority. Beside her father’s house was a woman who firmly believed
in the Evil Eye, and the power of preventing it by this gift. The
house commanded a view of the road, so that, for the most part, an old
woman suspected who lived in the neighbourhood could generally be seen
approaching. The woman, to whom the latter was a special object of
suspicion, never failed to advise our reciter’s people of the visitor’s
advent. Her advice was invariably given earnestly and in the same
form: “_A ghraidh thoir ni eigin dhi, cha’n eil odds cho beag no cho
suarach a bhios e, ach thoir ni eigin dhi agus an sin cha’n urrainn i
do chron a dheanamh_.” (“Dear, give her something, no odds how little
or how trifling, but give her something, and then she cannot do you an
injury.”)
In the case of churning the small present naturally takes the form of
a drink of milk to be given to any one suspected of the Evil Eye, and
so a reciter said that one should always, for safety’s sake, give a
visitor a drink of milk, and stated further that the beneficial effect
was added to if the one who gives it first take a little of it herself
before handing it to the stranger. As an illustrative incident the
reciter told how Black Colin of Balinaby when out hunting happened to
go to Balimony at the milking time. Not one of them offered him a drink
of milk, “_Ach coma leat_” (But all the same) the following morning
when the girls went to milk the cows not a drop of milk could they get,
while the cows kept running and roaring as if they were mad. At once
the man of Balimony, concluding that the mischief had been done by
Black Colin, saddled a horse, rode to Balinaby and took all the milk
from the Balinaby cows, transferring it to his own. When Colin saw
this he wrote to Balimony to this effect: “_Leig leamsa agus leigidh
mise leatsa_” (equivalent to “Let a be for let a be”). The reciter
added that the milk was properly distributed thereafter, and that the
incident was one of Black Art.
To a student of the old Bardic Irish stories the continual mention of
those who are recommended for their liberality to the poetic class
simply shows how they used their office for their own advantage. The
tricks of the non-producers continue the same now as they were in the
days of Cairbre. A poor Bodach passed the house of the manager of a
detached farm. He asked if he could get a drink. The manager’s wife,
who was churning at the time, left her churn and gave him a drink of
water. The Bodach took his drink and went away, the woman went back to
her churn, but let her churn ever so much not a bit of butter could she
get. The milk became merely froth, and swelled up so that she filled
all her spare dishes. That churning was no good, nor the next, nor many
succeeding ones, till she was afraid to look at her churn. So things
were when who should appear but the same old man with the same request.
The manager himself being in, translated the request liberally and
gave him plenty both to eat and drink. After resting a little the old
man rose to go away, and thanking them for their hospitality, added,
“If a poor man ask for a drink, do not give him a drink of water.” The
significant tone suggested to the manager to ask him for advice as
to bringing back the butter, offering him any reasonable reward and
putting a piece of money into his hand. This he said he would soon do,
and told him to tell his wife to clean her dishes and put a piece of
money in the churn and churn the next day. The story goes on to say
that every scrap that had been lost was got back in one churning.
As the story is told the product of each churning must have been but a
small matter, but there can be little doubt that this, if not a Bardic
praise of hospitality, is a beggar’s one, and the story of course no
better than an _ursgeul_. The reciter added a comment of her own:
“_Anns na laithean sin cha bhiodh daoine a beannachadh an cuid, agus
le sin bha e furasda gu leor an cronachadh_.” (“In those days people
were not in the habit of blessing their effects, and so it was an easy
matter to do them harm.”) No doubt those were the days before the
existence of a Free Church, but it is doubtful if there was much less
expression of blessings then than in the present.
A PREVENTATIVE BY BURNING CLOTHING
Allusion has already been made, on an Islay authority, to the efficacy
of burning a piece of the clothing to avert injury from any one
bringing bad news (page 15). A Tiree reciter gives the same information
a little more fully, and says it protects against witchcraft or the
Evil Eye. “If any woman comes into a house who is suspected, those
of the house should try to get a small piece of some article of her
clothing, without letting her know that they have got it, and throw it
on the fire; that will prevent her from taking anything away with her
or leave any mischief when she goes away. If they cannot manage to get
a bit of her own clothing, a good plan is, when she is leaving, to burn
a rag of some kind of cloth in the fire and throw it after her as she
goes.”
1 Corinthians, iii. 15. “If any man’s work shall be burnt, he shall
suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire.”
PREVENTION BY SPITTING
A native of Ross-shire and a minister gives the following information.
When he was living in K. a woman there had a child of about nine months
old. Another woman came in, and looking at the child on its mother’s
arm, remarked, “_Tha balach boidheach priseil agad an sin_.” (“You
have a pretty, dear boy there.”) Without more ado the mother turned
the child’s face to her and began to spit in it as hard as she could
to prevent any bad effect from the other woman’s Evil Eye. The reciter
said he has, in several places, heard of this being done with the view
of preventing harm, and he has often heard a person in the Isle of
Skye say “_Fliuch do shuil_” (“Wet your eye”) when any person praised
any of his cattle. The idea was that this would put away the chance of
mischief.
A native of Mull describes the practice as common there, particularly
as a preventative of injury to young children. Spit on your finger and
rub an eye of the child to be protected with the moistened finger. This
was called _fliuch an t-suil_ (eye wet), and was commonly practised and
believed by many to be a sufficient protection.
A farmer’s daughter, whose people have been for generations in the same
place in Islay, tells how she was scandalised by this practice. “We had
a web of cloth to sew for the boys, and the tailor we took in had the
name of the Evil Eye. One day he was sitting on the table sewing, and
my brother came into the kitchen to wash himself. He was but a boy at
the time, and stripped to his waist. C. B. began to say that his skin
was very white, and he was looking very well. _‘Fliuch do shuil, ’s na
cronaich mi,’ ars H._ (‘Wet your eye, and do not blight me,’ said H.)
‘They will be saying, that if a body will say that when any one who
has an Evil Eye is praising them, the Evil Eye can do them no injury.’
Well, when H. said that, my mother did not know where she was standing,
she was so much ashamed. You see the man had the name; if it had not
been for that she would not have cared much.”
But the performance of the full ceremony is still in use, and it is
interesting to be able to give the personal experience of my energetic
co-worker, to whom I am under so much obligation.
“A native of the Long Island was complimented by me (E. M. K.) recently
on the style of her dress, and the smart appearance it gave her, when,
to my surprise and amusement, stepping forward and wetting the point
of her finger by putting it on her tongue, she placed the finger on my
right eye, saying: ‘_Fliuch do shuil eagal gum bi mi air mo ghonadh_.’
(‘Wet your eye for fear that I may be wounded.’) She did this very
good-naturedly, and explained that when one is the subject of what
he may suspect to be envious praise, either in respect of person or
clothing, he may protect himself from consequences that might result
from the Evil Eye, by performing this ceremony on the one who has done
the praising.”
It would appear that this practice is comparable with the quenching of
a cinder in water—by wetting, the fire of the eye may be supposed to
be extinguished beneficially for the one on whom it might have an evil
influence.
PREVENTING BY CHURNING
It is specially difficult to distinguish between the Evil Eye and
witchcraft in the case of loss of the due produce of cattle—butter,
cream, &c. Certain preventatives are good for both. When any one is
churning and a visitor enters to whom any suspicion is attached of the
power of interfering with the butter, any such power can be taken from
her by getting her to do a spell of the churning. A woman, a strong
believer in witchcraft and the Evil Eye, invariably if she happens to
go into a house where churning is going on, takes the churn staff and
gives a pull at the churn, believing, by this means, that she frees
herself from suspicion if the churning go wrong. This woman, though a
professed believer in witchcraft and the Evil Eye, neither professes
practising it nor has ever been suspected by others.
An Excise officer in Islay kept some cattle. The servant was churning,
but though there was an appearance of butter, it could not be brought
to anything. The mistress of the house wondered what had come over the
milk, and a neighbour said that a woman who lived in the neighbourhood,
credited with the Evil Eye, had been in, and added, the best plan was
to send for her and get her to take a spell at the churn, which would
neutralise any bad influence she might have exerted. Acting on this
advice, the woman was sent for, and on coming was requested to give a
turn at the churn. She did not seem to be very willing, but no further
remark being made, she took the churn staff and churned for a while,
and the butter was got all right.
Another woman who was present when this was told doubted it being in
anybody’s power to do harm in that way, whereupon the reciter declared
that she believed it to be quite true and had experienced it with the
same woman, and then detailed how she had caused the fowls to drop
soft-shelled eggs, already quoted.
A domestic servant, speaking of this churning difficulty, said that
when she went into houses where they were churning they would not mind
her. “Many a time,” she added, “they have asked me to give them help
with the churn.” She apparently had not appreciated the reason of her
assistance being asked.
The explanation suggested for this procedure is, that if one does not
want the churning to be successful they will not do anything to assist
it; and, _vice versâ_, if they do give their help it is considered as
evidence of their desire to bring it to a successful termination.
PREVENTION BY PECULIARITY IN CLOTHES
When speaking of the liability of nice-looking, well-dressed children
suffering injury, the prevention by turning an article of clothing
outside in was mentioned. The authorities in these cases are from
Harris and from Islay. To show further the extent of this belief, a
Ross-shire man says a thing he has often seen done for the prevention
of evil influences was to turn a child’s coat or other garment wrong
side out, because: “It is believed that a witch is rendered powerless
in respect of any person who happens at the time when they might be
injuriously affected to be wearing any article of clothing wrong side
out.”
Another preventative in connection with clothing also comes from
Harris. When a dress is put on for the first time a small burning peat
or burning stick is waved over it, inside and out, and this is believed
to be an efficient protection of the wearer from an attack by the Evil
Eye. This is evidently the purification by fire already alluded to.
Attracting the Evil Eye by a piece of cloth also appears in the
following from a farmer and office-bearer in the church, a man of about
seventy, but an undoubted believer in what we may call superstitions.
Where he was brought up a rag was put in a _bruchag_ (cranny) of the
wall at the head of every milk cow in the byre as a protection against
the Evil Eye.
TAR AS PREVENTATIVE
The application of hot pitch to open wounds in ancient surgery is a
well-known fact. It may have acted as an antiseptic, and like its
congener tar applied for skin eruptions, may have so got into popular
use as a preventative of evil. In the island of Islay tar was well
known as an application against the Evil Eye, but its use seems to have
been restricted to Beltane night, May Eve. One of our reciters, a man
now of about fifty, when herding cattle as a boy remembers how all the
time he was on the farm of C. at a fixed hour on _Oidhche Bhealtuinn_
he went to the byre with the farmer and his son. They took with them a
small pot of tar and a bit of stick, little larger than an egg-spoon.
Our reciter held the dish while the son took hold of the ears of each
of the cattle in turn and the old man put a little tar into each ear
with the stick. If any words were spoken the boy did not hear them.
Another old man, a man of eighty, can neither read nor write, without
any English, adds to the putting it in the ears that it was also put on
the noses of the cattle for the purpose of “preventing injuries from
the Evil Eye.”
Another, a woman of about fifty-five, says her father was regular in
the habit of putting tar on the horns of his cows on May Eve to protect
the beasts from the Evil Eye.
A fourth reciter says he has often seen it put on the horns and ears,
and also rowan berries tied to the cows’ tails on the same occasion,
and adds that this was usually accompanied with the repeating of some
good words to protect the beasts from being hurt with the Evil Eye.
The germicide powers of tar products seem to have been further
reaching, and even more highly appreciated in those days than they are
now.
NICKING THE EAR
The ears, we now see, played a prominent part in the treatment of
_cronachadh_, and we learn on the authority of a minister how that
in the case of a quey supposed to be affected by the Evil Eye, the
owner loosed it from its stall, cut a slit in its ear, repeating some
incantation the while.
From a man of about fifty-five, a joiner, we have confirmation of this.
He remembers of a beast dying where he lived when he was a boy, and of
seeing the woman to whom the animal belonged and another _cailleach_
sitting over the dead beast cutting a piece out of its ear. They kept
the piece they cut. On asking why the women were handling the dead
animal, he was told that the piece cut from its ear would prevent an
Evil Eye affecting the rest of the cattle.
Weak or unhealthy eyes are in popular belief cured by piercing the ear
(and wearing earrings).
URINE AS PREVENTATIVE
The detergent, and let us say with all gravity, the cleansing power of
stale urine, is well known, and it is hardly to be wondered at when we
find this used to clear away, as it were, evil influences.
“There was at one time a farmer in Gruinart who used regularly to
sprinkle his cows when putting them out with the contents of the
chamber pot. This was with the view of protecting them against
witchcraft, and I have done that myself.”
Our informant for this was a woman of about sixty. This is supported by
another reciter in Islay, who said it was done in the morning.
Two other reciters tell that it was done in spring, or the early part
of summer, when they were put out on the grass “for the first time that
season.” The sprinkling was done with a broom from the chamber pot as
the cattle were passing out of the byre.
What was good for cows was also considered good for horses; they
also got their share of attention. Finally, in this particular, an
intelligent crofter’s wife who can read, and is of about seventy years
of age, informs us that it was customary to collect the bedroom slops
for a day or two before the birth of a child. So soon as the child
was born, to prevent any mischief from _cronachadh_, the house was
sprinkled both outside and in. She saw this done in her mother’s house.
The remark that this sprinkling was done when the cattle were first
turned out, and of a statement that it was common among farmers to
have the services of a man believed to have _colas_ to notch the ears
of cattle on May Eve against witchcraft, have to be taken together,
May Day being supposed to be a specially active moment for the witch
sisterhood. Two reciters mention this sprinkling with “salt” and
“urine” in connection with each other. That they were looked upon
as having somewhat the same action there can be no doubt, whatever
analogy drawn between the two may have existed in the mind of the
reciter. One of the two reciters gave an instance which, though
undoubtedly unperceived by the narrator, throws a sidelight upon the
ideas connected with it. The mother of our reciter consulted an _eolas_
man for the bettering of defective churning. He gave her a bottle,
directing her to hold it in her hand all the way on her journey home,
and on no account to let it touch the ground. When she got home she was
to sprinkle some of it on the cow and the outside of the churn, and
round about it. On her way home she rested for a minute, and forgetting
about the instructions, put down the bottle. Sprinkling the cow did
no good, and the scientist was again consulted. _“Leig thu leis fheum
a chall,” ars S._ (“You allowed it to lose its usefulness,” said S.)
“_Rinn i gair bheag ag’radh gun do leig i sios e car mionaid._” (“She
smiled, saying that she had let it down for a minute.”) “_Chaill thu
e mata._” (“You have lost it, then.”) Now comes the incident mentioned
on page 119 of his retiring to the back of the house and giving his
consulter the slip of _iubhar-beinne_ (juniper), the flavouring matter
of gin, the most diuretic of stimulants.
Putting all this together, it is not difficult to see why part at least
of the magic fluid would lose its effect if it touched the ground,
the place it most naturally reaches, if we accept Burt’s statement,
in Highland houses, and even in a recognised house of entertainment.
“But I had like to have forgot a Mischance that happened to me the next
Morning, for rising early, and getting out of my Box pretty hastily, I
unluckily set my Foot in the Chamber-pot, a Hole in the Ground by the
Bed-side, which was made to serve for that Use in case of Occasion.”[8]
When the next bottle reached the house and not the ground, the effect
was quite satisfactory. The reciter of this openly professed belief in
the whole story, even to the recovery of the missing butter.
Many will rise up in arms against my suggestion that the water to be
used, and which was used, and which is called water, was in many cases
and in its origin urine. In the Clonmel witch-burning case in Ireland
in 1895, Mrs. Cleary, the victim, had “water” thrown over her, fetched
by her cousin from an adjoining room. This was brought three or four
times, and the process of sprinkling lasted at intervals over a period
of ten or twenty minutes. This water, according to the _Cork Examiner_
and other reports, was called “a certain noxious fluid.” According
to accounts given by Leitrim people, the most effective way of
disenchanting folk was to throw over them a concoction of strong urine
and hens’ excrement. Compare with this the Arran man’s charm against
the Evil Eye mentioned on page 18.[9]
[8] Burt’s “Letters from the North of Scotland,” vol. ii. p. 65.
[9] See “Folk-Lore,” vol. vi. p. 378.
The general protective power of stale urine is curiously illustrated
in the following from a Mackay. The reciter said when he was young it
was a general custom throughout the Reay country to have a tub of stale
wash placed at the door cheek with a little stick always standing in
it. The stick was preferably, if it could be got, of blackthorn—sloe.
The object of this was that visitors might stir up the contents of the
tub before going into the house, a process intended to protect the
house and its inmates from being injured by any bad luck or misfortune,
or evil of any kind, that otherwise might accompany the visitor. To
comply with this condition was reckoned a sufficient passport for any
caller, and no matter who he was, or on what business he had come, he
was expected to do the stirring before crossing the threshold. The
reciter said that he had done it himself regularly in his youth.
The conclusion arrived at that the water supplied in some cases, and in
any case what ought to be supplied by the practitioner of _eolas_, was
diluted urine, seems to get important endorsation from the following
on the authority of John Kerr, LLD., late her Majesty’s Inspector of
Schools:—
“A man had a child suffering from water in the head, and carried him
on his back in a blanket from Lochcarron to Lochbroom and back—over
a hundred and twenty miles—to see a man who professed to cure such
ailments. He got a bottle of water, a spoonful of which was to be given
several times a day. The doctor found the water absolutely putrid.”[10]
[10] “Memories Grave and Gay,” John Kerr, LLD., p. 323.
Dr. Kerr having this from a medical man, one is inclined to fancy
that the description of the dose is given in a method corresponding
to an ordinary prescription; spoonful doses remind one of the regular
practitioner. The diagnosis ‘hydrocephalus’ is the doctor’s; the man
consulted was not a curer of water in the head, but of the results of
witchcraft or the Evil Eye. This, there can scarcely be any doubt of,
or that that also was the father’s idea of the cause of the child’s
illness—it had been _air a chronachadh_. Here the important point is
the putridity of the water. If it had been pure water it might have
been vapid enough, but we may be certain that no licensed practitioner
would have said that the fluid was absolutely putrid without sufficient
cause. The diagnosis is that its putridity was occasioned by containing
a greater or less quantity of stale urine.
A BURNT OFFERING
The following is vouched for by an intelligent and educated young lady
resident in Orkney, though as it is from a non-Gaelic island it takes
us to a different people from those we have been occupied with.
In one of the islands there a farmer was losing his cattle one after
another. The general opinion, in which the farmer himself concurred,
was that the fatality arose from some person’s Evil Eye having lighted
on the stock. It was also considered, as the best means of putting an
end to this, to burn one of the remaining animals alive. This was done,
and report has it that everything went well enough after that. This
case seems sufficiently notorious, though no more exact information has
been procured; but the Evil Eye is strongly believed in in Orkney, and
our informant herself knew a man who, on finding things “going back”
with him, as they say, confidently attributed his unprosperity to some
one having put his Evil Eye in his effects. Many of his neighbours,
knowing the circumstances, were of the same opinion as himself.
CHARMS. (STRING)
“No Christian shall attach short strings to the neck of women or of
animals, even if you see this practised by churchmen, and they should
tell you that this custom is a pious one.” Such was the pronouncement
of St. Eloi of the Abbey of Luxeuil, in the seventh century, the
successor of Columban, as reported by St. Ouen (Audoenus) in the “Nos
Origines.”[11]
[11] _Les Influences Celtiques_, by Charles Roessler, p. 59.
So far we seem to have seen that the damage done by the Evil Eye was
a malign dispensation of Providence, for which the owner was only to
blame to the same extent that one is to blame for a natural defect,
but the processes of cure being the result of science, so to say,
_eolas_, _fios_, are in reality magic processes. One of the most common
of the preventive charms is something to be worn by the person to be
protected, and one reciter, an elder in the church, assures us that he
knows a family every member of which wears such a charm suspended round
the neck.
This must have been something of the nature of an _ubag_, a thing which
takes the form generally of what, referring to American Indians, is
spoken of as a “medicine bag,” but which the Dictionaries translate as
a charm—an incantation. A much more common protective is the _sreang a
chronachaidh_, or _snathainn cronachaidh_ (string or thread of hurting).