WITCHCRAFT AND MAGIC.
The name of Rudha Chailleach, the long blue point jutting into Loch
Maree to the south of Ardlair, suggests the ancient belief in
witchcraft, but there are no stories of witches connected with it now
extant. Yet the belief in witchcraft is by no means dead in Gairloch,
and to the stranger the very appearance of some withered old women
almost proves them to be witches.
Jessie the cripple, an example of whose second-sight is given in the
next chapter, was a reputed witch; the story of her being ducked will be
found there.
Witchcraft and magic are still said to be exercised by a number of
people in Gairloch. Cases actually occurred in 1885 where persons were
charged with the practice of these arts in connection with poultry. It
seems better not to give details of them here, especially as it is said
the poor folk are yet under suspicion.
The following are examples of the use of the arts of witchcraft and
magic in Gairloch:--
There is a curious superstition that the substance, or staple or
"fruit," of milk can be taken away by witchcraft, or by the employment
of magical arts. In the records of the Presbytery of Lochcarron are
minutes relating to a case which occurred at Kenlochewe. On 23d November
1791 the presbytery had examined a candidate for the appointment of
catechist for the district of "Ceanlochew," and had been satisfied as to
his knowledge, but "in consequence of stories rather detrimental to his
private character," had arranged for an inquiry whether such stories had
any foundation. On 3d April 1792 a petition on the subject was laid
before the presbytery. One of the petitioners, Mr Murdo M'Kenzie, yr. of
Letterewe, declared, "that he thought he had heard the candidate use
such words as that he wished the devil had the soul of Mr Mackintosh,
the parish minister; that he was in the habit of taking back the
substance of milk by magical arts, for he himself (the declarant) and
his brother were present when the candidate had recourse to certain
herbs and an iron key, which were thrown into the declarant's milk in
order to restore the fruit of it. Roderick M'Lennan, smith at
Ceannlochew, stated that he knew the candidate from his infancy, * * *
that he was much addicted to swearing in common conversation, and that
he had heard him say that he had restored the substance of deponent's
milk by means of certain arts. The candidate being present, and
questioned, admitted that he did actually restore the substance of the
milk as stated by Mr M'Kenzie, yr. of Letterewe; all which being
considered by the presbytery, they deemed him totally disqualified for
the office of catechist, and declined to recommend him for such office
to the Committee of the Royal Bounty."
Our next example of this strange superstition belongs to a more recent
date. In the time of the late Sir Francis Mackenzie the parish
schoolmaster of Gairloch was one Kenneth Mackenzie, who was a notorious
master of witchcraft. He was always called the "maighstair sgoil." In
his youth he had been taught many magical arts, and people who had been
bewitched resorted to him from far and wide to obtain relief and advice.
He lived in the present schoolmaster's house at Achtercairn, and kept
several cows. On one occasion he himself was a sufferer from witchcraft.
The milk of his cows was destroyed; if they gave any at all it was
fruitless and useless. By his own skill in magic he discovered the woman
who had done him this mischief; she lived at or near Strath, and was
reputed to have some knowledge of witchcraft. This is how he punished
her. There is a little burn runs by the side of the road at Achtercairn,
just in front of the present police-station. One Sunday morning as the
people from Strath, including this woman, were going to church, she was
obliged, by the occult power of the maighstair sgoil, to remain behind;
and as soon as the others were out of sight she tucked up her dress
above her knees and fastened it so, then she commenced jumping violently
backwards and forwards across this little burn, unwillingly enough, as
we may well suppose, and she was compelled by the unseen maighstair
sgoil to continue the severe exercise until the people came out of
church. After the woman had suffered her well-merited punishment, the
fruit returned to the milk of the maighstair sgoil's cows. _Moral_:--You
should not meddle with one who possesses magical powers!
Here is a case of injury to milk which occurred within the last ten
years. For obvious reasons I suppress the names of the persons
concerned, who are all known to me and are now living. The erection of a
house was undertaken, and the builders took up their abode in a
temporary hut or barrack. Requiring milk to take with their porridge,
they applied to a neighbouring farmer, but he was unable at the time to
supply them. They fancied that the farmer withheld the milk from some
spite he had to them, and they told him he would suffer for it; one of
the builders is commonly believed to have some knowledge of witchcraft.
What next occurred is kept secret, but the milk of the farmer's cows
immediately afterwards lost its fruit; nothing but a viscous fluid,
mingled with a little blood, came from the teats when the cows were
milked. The farmer called to his aid the services of a woman living in
the northern part of the parish known to be skilled in such matters, and
she soon restored the substance to the milk. A still more recent case
has come under my notice in the spring of 1886. A cow died at a farm
with which I am well acquainted; its death was firmly believed to be the
result of witchcraft, exercised by an adversary. Soon afterwards a cow
at the same farm lost the substance of its milk; as in the case last
described, only blood and water came from the cow; this also was
believed to be the consequence of witchcraft. A man from Aultbea was
sent for, and by his magical arts soon effected a cure. These latter
cases are different from the old Kenlochewe case in one respect, viz.,
in the older case the substance of the milk was influenced after it had
been taken from the cow, whilst in the subsequent cases the "fruit" of
the milk was destroyed in the cows.
There are plenty of people in Gairloch in the present day who believe in
the magical power of the charm or spell called the "sian" or "seun." By
means of an incantation, sometimes coupled with the use of some visible
medium, any object which it was desired to conceal could be rendered
invisible, either for the time being only or for all time, subject in
the latter case to brief periods of visibility recurring either at the
end of each year, or more commonly at the end of each succeeding term of
seven years. The medium, if any, employed along with the incantation,
was usually a piece of vellum or stout skin of some sort, which in
process of time became as hard and tough as wrought iron. James
Mackenzie says he has seen a specimen preserved as a curiosity at Glamis
Castle.
Duncan M'Rae lived in Isle Ewe and had the gift of the sian. We have
seen, in Part I., chap. xiv., Duncan's fidelity to the unfortunate
Prince Charlie. He accompanied the prince to Edinburgh, and there
composed a well-known Gaelic song called Oran na Feannaige, _i.e._ "the
song of the hoodie-crow;" it related an imaginary dialogue between
himself and the crow, suggested by his seeing one of those birds in the
busy capital. After the fatal field of Culloden, Duncan M'Rae assisted
in covering the prince's escape; he hovered around the prince, and used
every means in his power to baffle the pursuers. Funds were sent from
France to be conveyed by the faithful Highlanders to their beloved
Prince Charlie, as circumstances might admit. A small cask or keg filled
with gold pieces was entrusted to the charge of Duncan M'Rae, to be
concealed until a chance should occur of delivering it to the prince.
Duncan M'Rae and two other men brought the keg of gold in a boat across
Loch Ewe from Mellon Charles to Cove. From Cove they carried the cask up
to the Fedan Mor, the large deep corrie or hollow on the hill above Loch
a Druing; there they put the cask of gold into the ground, and it is the
universal belief in Gairloch that it remains there to this day. Duncan
M'Rae made use of the sian to render the cask invisible; he laid his
amulet upon the head of the cask while he pronounced the magic words he
knew; upon this the cask became invisible for all time, with this
exception, that at the end of each period of seven years the effect of
the spell is suspended during a very brief interval on one day only,
when for a few moments the cask of gold becomes again visible to mortal
eyes.
It was about 1826, the year that Sir Hector Mackenzie died, that the
wife of Rorie Mackenzie, shepherd at Loch a Druing, called the Cibear
Mor, or "big shepherd," was herding the cows in the Fedan Mor. She was
spinning worsted, when suddenly she saw the head of the cask of gold
close to where she sat. She stuck the distaff into it to mark the spot,
and then ran down to Loch a Druing for help to remove the long-lost
treasure. When the people came to the Fedan Mor to fetch the cask of
gold, neither it nor the distaff could after the most diligent search be
discovered.
A sian of a similar nature, and with similar effect, is said to have
been used many years ago by some persons who hid a large quantity of
arms and weapons of all kinds in a cave at Meallan na Ghamhna. Both the
cave and the weapons became invisible, but once in every seven years
they may again be seen if any one be lucky enough to be on the spot at
the right moment. It is not many years since the wife of Murdo Cameron
of Inverasdale, and some other women, were gathering lichens from the
rocks at Meallan na Ghamhna, when they suddenly saw the cave and
weapons. They ran to tell others, and soon returned with several
helpers, intending to remove the arms; but it was too late, no trace
could be found of either weapons or cave. They say an exactly similar
case of weapons being hid in a cave, or rather rocky fissure, by means
of the sian, occurred on the shores of Loch Maree. The spot is at the
edge of the loch below the county road on the south-west side of the
loch just opposite to Letterewe. In this case also the weapons are
visible once in every seven years.
There was a man living in Gairloch named Alastair Mor an 't Sealgair, or
"big Alexander of [the race of] the hunter." He had the magic power of
the sian. He died since 1850, and his grandsons were lately living at
Charleston, and were called Gillean an t' Sealgair, or "the hunter's
lads." One of them is still living at Charleston. Alastair was a dealer
in illicit whisky, and was constantly employed in running cargoes of it
from Gairloch to Skye and the Long Island. He is still remembered in
those islands. At that time Captain Oliver was sent by the government to
put down this smuggling. In his schooner he cruised up and down the
Minch, keeping a sharp look-out; he had a tender, a smaller vessel, of
which Robert Clark was master, and which was employed in the sea-lochs,
so that Gairloch might well be said to be blockaded. Alastair
continually ran the blockade by the use of the sian. Whenever a
government vessel hove in sight, he pronounced the magic words and
applied his unfailing amulet, and his boat became at once invisible
under the mysterious spell. One day he had brought several casks of
whisky in a boat down Loch Maree. When in the Narrows near the place
where Tollie burn falls into the river Ewe, he landed and hid the casks
in the wood on the Tollie side of the Narrows. He made some passes over
them with his hands, and the casks became invisible; the next day he
sent over from Gairloch the men who had seen him hide the casks, to
bring them away, but they could not be found, and it was not until
Alastair went himself that the casks became visible. This was a usual
form of the sian, but Alastair had another spell or magical process
which was a variation of its ordinary application. Sometimes when a
revenue vessel appeared upon the scene he would take a thole-pin from
the boat and whittle it with his knife, when each of the chips as it
fell into the water would appear to the crew of the preventive vessel to
be a fully-manned boat. This wonderful magician was well-known to many
people now living, including Mr O. H. Mackenzie. There are many other
stories current in Gairloch, showing that Alastair could render his
boat, or indeed anything else, invisible, even without the use of any
special formula. There were three fishermen, named respectively
Macpherson, Watson, and Fraser, all living on the south side of
Gairloch, who were partners in a large decked fishing-boat. At that time
Glen Dubh, to the north of Stoir Head in Sutherlandshire, was an
important herring fishing-station. The "south side" men were there
fishing. Alastair was also at Glen Dubh, selling whisky amongst the
fishermen. His boat was an open undecked craft, and the Gairloch south
side men had him to spend the Sabbath in their larger vessel. On Sunday
morning Alastair proposed to fill some bottles with whisky out of a
small cask that he carried for offering drams to friends. As he and
Macpherson were beginning to draw the whisky from the cask, Alastair
asked his companion if he saw the revenue cutter. Macpherson said her
boat was just coming round a headland near them. Alastair said, "They
don't see us." He proceeded with the business on hand; they were on
deck. As the cutter's boat approached, Macpherson wished to put the
whisky cask out of sight. Alastair said, "Never fear; they cannot see
us." The revenue boat then passed close to them, and apparently did not
see them. Had the preventive men seen Alastair before he saw them, he
would have been unable to render the boat invisible. At another time,
the same "south side" men had a good take of flounders in the sound
between the Island of Longa and Big Sand. They had occasion to take
their fish ashore at Big Sand, and having piled them in a heap left them
for a short time; on returning they could not see their fish anywhere.
Alastair was there, and they concluded he had played a trick upon them.
After keeping up the joke some time, Alastair admitted that he had
concealed the fish. He drew a ring on the sand with his stick, and said,
"The fish are within this circle." The fishermen could not find them,
until Alastair withdrew the spell and the fish became visible.
His father, Ruaridh an t' Sealgair, also had the magical power of the
sian. Both Rorie and Alastair were--like their ancestor whose
_soubriquet_ they bore--great hunters and poachers. When they wanted
venison they would go to the mountains. As soon as they saw a deer they
would, by the exercise of magic, cause the animal to stand or to go
where they pleased, so that they could easily get within range. If the
deer saw the magician first, the spell failed; it was necessary that the
hunter should spy his quarry before he was himself observed. Instances
of Alastair's exercise of this power are said to have occurred during
the time of the late Sir Francis Mackenzie, Bart. of Gairloch. They say
too that Alastair, when sitting at the roadside, could by the sian
render himself invisible to persons who passed close to him.
Our next and last example is of a different application of magic. Every
detail of the case is firmly believed by many natives of Gairloch now
living to be absolutely true. In the chapter of James Mackenzie's
"Gairloch Stories," given further on, is an account of the death by
drowning at the head of Loch Maree of John M'Ryrie. His grandfather was
the hero of the following adventure. At the time of its occurrence he
had a large open boat, in which he used to carry the mails between
Poolewe and Stornoway. He lived at Poolewe. One Donald M'Lean helped to
work the boat. It was before the smack was put on this service. On one
occasion M'Ryrie was kept several days at Stornoway by a contrary wind.
He was going about the place two or three days grumbling at the delay.
He met a man in the street, who advised him to go to a certain woman and
she would make the wind favourable for him. In the morning he went to
her, and paid her some money. She gave him a piece of string with three
knots on it. She told him to undo the first of the knots, and he would
get the wind in his favour; if the wind were not strong enough for him,
he was to undo the second knot, but not until he would be near the
mainland; the third knot, she said, he must not untie for his life. The
wind changed whilst he was talking to her; and he set sail that same
morning. He undid the first knot on the voyage, and the breeze continued
fair; the second knot he untied when he was near the mouth of Loch Ewe,
and the breeze came fresh and strong. When he got to Ploc-ard, at the
head of Loch Ewe, he said to M'Lean that no great harm could happen to
them if he were to untie the third knot, as they were so near the shore.
So he untied the third knot. Instantly there was such a hurricane that
most of the houses in Poolewe and Londubh were stripped of their thatch.
The boat was cast high and dry on the beach at Dal Cruaidh, just below
the house of Kirkton; her crew escaped uninjured. It is said that at
that time there were several women about Stornoway who had power by
their arts to make the wind favourable.