by putting gold rings in the ears, by rubbing them with jewels of pure
gold, and by repeating certain rhymes. Warts are removed by washing them
in rain-water or swine’s blood. Serpents’ heads are preserved for years
to heal their own sting wounds. If a man, cow, or any animal be stung
by a serpent, let the dried serpent’s head be cast into water, let the
wound be washed in it, and it soon heals. Fried mice are a specific for
small-pox. Whooping-cough is cured by whatever is recommended by a person
riding a piebald horse. A spider put into a goose-quill, well sealed, and
put round a child’s neck, will cure it of the thrush. In the Island of
Soa, near Skye, it was customary when the head of the family died to have
a large lock of hair cut off his head and nailed fast to the door-lintel
to keep off the fairies. Sailors are sometimes very superstitious. They
greatly dread the stormy petrel, or Mother Carey’s chickens, as they
flutter at night around their masts and yards. These birds are regarded
as objects of superstitious fear, believing that they are possessed of
supernatural agency in creating danger for the poor, hard-toiled mariner.
At one time, a horse-shoe nailed to the mast of the vessel was great
security against all evil agencies, such as witches, petrels, fairies,
and evil eyes. To recapitulate all such superstitious frets would be
an endless task. There are many similar fanciful notions in regard to
births, baptisms, marriages, and deaths, but it is impossible to enlarge
much upon them. It was once prevalent when a child was baptised, that the
infant was neither washed nor bathed that night, for fear of washing off
the baptismal water before it had slept under it. Frequently too, the
water used in baptism was bottled up as an effectual recipe for various
disorders. Parents took all possible care lest their female infants
should be baptised with the same water used for male children, for if
they should, the females would grow up with beards! A few years ago, I
was baptising two or three children at the same time, in a village near
by, when the first presented was a boy, and the next a girl. After the
water had been sprinkled on the face of the boy, and when I was about to
do the same to the girl, an old worthy granny present hastily snatched
away the bowl containing the water, poured it out, and filled it afresh,
muttering aloud, “Na leigeadh Ni Math gum biodh feusag air mo chaileig”
(Goodness forbid that my lassie should have a beard).
It is reckoned very unlucky in some parts of the country to have a child
left unbaptised beyond the year in which it was born. For example, should
a child come into the world on the 30th December, 1877, the parents would
feel very uncomfortable, and consider it a neglect of duty, if they did
not get the infant baptised either on that or next day.
Even in England peculiar frets are still observed in regard to
infants. In a late number of an English paper, the following paragraph
appeared:—“A certain act of barbarity and superstition is practised
in many parts of the country. Children who are sickly are taken to a
woman for the purpose of being cut for a supposed disease, called the
Spinnage. The infants are, on a Monday morning, taken to this woman,
who, for threepence, with a pair of scissors, cuts through the lobe of
the right ear, then makes a cross with the blood upon the forehead and
breast of the child. On the following Monday the same barbarous ceremony
is performed upon the left ear, and on the succeeding Monday the right
ear is again doomed to undergo the same ceremony. In some cases, it is
deemed necessary to perform this ridiculous operation nine times. It is
not the lower classes alone who are chargeable with this and similar
follies. Some of the higher classes likewise observe them. It is quite
common to make the children partake of a roasted mouse as a cure for
whooping-cough.”
The cold-bath was so much esteemed by the Highlanders in ancient times
that, as soon as an infant was born, he was plunged into a running
stream, and then carefully wrapped in a warm blanket. Immediately
thereafter, the little creature was forced to swallow a large quantity
of fresh butter. It was made into a ball of no ordinary size, and was
pressed down its little throat, in a manner sufficient to create a fear
of the poor child being suffocated. Another fret was observed, that
immediately after a child was baptised, he behoved to be secured from the
power of the fairies, and of all evil spirits. For this purpose a basket
was taken, which was half filled with bread and cheese, wrapped up in a
clean linen cloth. Over this parcel the child was laid as if in a cradle.
The basket was then taken up by the oldest female in the family circle
at the time, carried three times round the fire, and then suspended for
a few seconds from the crook that hung over the fire. The child was then
removed from its temporary berth, while the bread and cheese were divided
among the company present, as nourishment to guarantee their health for
another year. There was still another superstition, that soon after the
birth of a child, when all the duties necessary on such occasions had
been performed, it was customary to make a dish of “crowdie” by mixing
oaten meal and water together, of which each of the company required
to take three horn-spoonfuls, for the protection of the infant. This
superstition was, until of late, very prevalent in the Highlands of
Perthshire. It was likewise the custom that the mother of the infant dare
not perform any work, or engage herself in any of her domestic affairs,
until she had been kirked. After she had performed this religious
rite, and had dealt out a portion of bread and cheese to every one she
met on her way home from the place of worship, she was invested with
free liberty to attend to her ordinary household concerns. Until then,
however, everything she did, and every object she handled, was reckoned
unclean, and would not be meddled with by any in the family circle.
It was also alleged by carpenters that, while in bed at night, they heard
their saws, hammers, and planes at work before being employed next day
in making a coffin. Highlanders in particular speak confidently of the
expected nature of the weather, from the figure, appearance, colour,
coming, and stages of the moon. They avoid slaughtering sheep, pigs, and
cattle in the wane of the moon, as the meat would shrink in cooking.
In the same way they study to shear corn, to mow grass, to fell trees,
and to cut peats and turf in the wane of the moon, as the best time for
drying and seasoning these commodities.
There was a superstition in Ross-shire whereby it was believed that the
soul did not finally and completely leave the body until the corpse had
been laid in the grave. There was a similar superstition in Perthshire,
whereby it was believed that at the moment of dissolution, whether by
natural death or by accident the soul or spirit was visibly seen leaving
the body in the shape of a little creature like a bee. Witches frequently
put themselves into the appearance of animals, such as a hare, but when
arrows were pointed at them, barbed with silver, or muskets loaded with
silver coins for shot, the semblance of the hare disappeared at once, and
some shrivelled, decrepit hag of a witch wife stood before the shooter in
full size!
The natives of Easter Ross, particularly the fishermen on the sea-coast
from Tain to Cromarty Bay, are influenced to this day by remarkable
superstitious frets which they observe on marriage occasions. It is the
practice among them that couples, once the marriage festivities are past,
must go to be kirked on the Sunday. This devout duty is easily performed
when there is but one marriage in the place. But should there be two
or three, as frequently occurs, in the same week, the kirking affair
is entirely altered, and becomes a matter of no small difficulty and
concern. Sabbath comes, and each marriage party, bridegroom and bride,
with their attendants, prepare themselves for the parish church; duly
arrive there in good time; and perhaps desert their usual seats, through
a desire to occupy those that happen to be nearest to the door. The
sermon is impatiently listened to, when, without waiting perhaps for the
benediction, the parties rush out, like so many bees from a hive, and run
homewards as fast as their feet can carry them. Thus, one marriage party
strives with another, in running the lucky race. Frequently, in their
haste, the bridegroom outruns the bride and others of the party. All this
arises from an old superstition, that the marriage party which first
arrives at home from the kirking are sure to be prosperous and happy
in after life, whereas those left behind, should it only be a distance
of a few yards, run the risk of becoming the victims of misfortune and
adversity.
The Highlanders, as well as many other ancient tribes, looked upon
certain days as lucky or unlucky in themselves. The 14th of May was
considered an untoward day; so much so, that the day of the week on
which the 14th day of May fell, was deemed unlucky during the whole of
that year, and nothing of consequence was undertaken on that day. May
and January were considered unfortunate months to marry in, as also the
Friday of any week.
On the death of a Highlander, many silly superstitions were practised. In
some districts it was believed that when death ensued, the spirit still
kept close to the body, as if it were to guard it until after the burial,
when dust was consigned to dust, and ashes to ashes. The relatives,
friends, and neighbours of the deceased, deemed it their duty likewise to
watch the corpse of the dead, both by night and by day. This was called
the “late wake,” at which the most absurd fooleries were practised,
such as music, called the “coronach,” dancing, leaping, riddles, games,
singing of songs, and the most boisterous revelry. These manners and
customs are now, however, almost extinct. There are many superstitious
observances at certain seasons of the year, of which we must treat
briefly.
I. “La Calluinn” and “Oidhche Challuinn” (New-Year’s Day and New-Year’s
Night). Besides the “first-footing,” which is a common practice still,
the Highlanders observed many in-door and out-door ceremonies. On
New-Year’s Eve, they surrounded each other’s houses, carrying dried
cow-hides, and beating them with sticks, thrashing the walls with clubs,
all the time crying, shouting, and repeating rhymes. This is supposed to
operate as a charm against fairies, demons, and spirits of every order.
They provide themselves with the flap, or hanging part of the hide on the
cow’s neck, which they called “caisean-uchd,” and which they singed in
the fire and presented to the inmates of the family, one after another,
to smell, as a charm against all injuries from fairies and spirits. A
specimen of the rhymes repeated, with loud chorus, is as follows:—
Mor-phiseach air an tigh,
Piseach air an teaghlach,
Piseach air gach cabar,
Is air gach ni saoghalt’ ann.
Piseach air eich a’s crodh,
Piseach air na caoraich,
Piseach air na h-uile ni,
’S piseach air ar maoin uil’.
Piseach air beann an tighe,
Piseach air na paistean,
Piseach air gach caraide,
Mor-phiseach agus slaint dhuibh.
Great good luck to the house,
Good luck to the family,
Good luck to every rafter of it,
And to every worldly thing in it.
Good luck to horses and cattle,
Good luck to the sheep,
Good luck to every thing,
And good luck to all your means.
Luck to the good-wife,
Good luck to the children,
Good luck to every friend,
Great fortune and health to all.
II. “Di-domhnuich-caisg” (Easter Sunday). This period is observed in the
Highlands by preparing and eating certain kinds of pan-cakes made of
eggs, milk, meal, or flour. Together with this the young people provide
themselves with large quantities of hard-boiled dyed eggs, which they
roll about, and finally eat. The English hot cross buns at Easter are
only the cakes which the Saxons ate in honour of their goddess “Eastre,”
and from which the Christian clergy, who were unable to prevent people
from eating them, sought to expel the Paganism by marking them with the
cross. Hence the hot cross buns.
III. “La Bealtuinn” (May-day, Whitsuntide). The demonstrations of this
day are now all but extinct. The first of May was held as a great
Druidical festival in honour of the mighty Asiatic god, Belus. Fires
were kindled on the mountain-tops, through which all the cattle of the
country were driven to preserve them till the next May-day. On this day
all the hearth-fires were extinguished, in order to be kindled from this
purifying flame. Hence the word Bealtuinn is “Beil-teine,” the fire of
Belus. So that “La Bealtuinn” (Whitsunday) is “the day of Belus’ fire”.
Of old in the Highlands the young people went to the moors on this day,
made a circular table on the grass, cut a trench around it, kindled
a huge fire, baked a large cake, which they cut into as many similar
pieces as there were persons present. They daubed one of the pieces with
charcoal, and made it perfectly black. Then they put all the bits of cake
into a bonnet, from which all of them, blindfolded, drew a bit.
Whoever drew the black bit was the person who was doomed to be sacrificed
to Baal; and in order to avoid the execution of this doom, he was
compelled to leap six times over the flames. Even in Ayrshire, Baal’s
fire was kindled till about the year 1790.
HALLOWE’EN.—The only other season noted for superstitious observances
is that of Hallowe’en. Hallowe’en in Gaelic means “Samhuinn,” that is
“Samhtheine,” the fire of peace. It is a Druidical festival, at which
the fire of peace was regularly kindled. There is no night in the year
which the popular imagination has stamped with a more peculiar character
than Hallowe’en. It was the night, above all others, when supernatural
influences prevailed. It was the night for the universal walking abroad
of all sorts of spirits, fairies, and ghosts, all of whom had liberty on
that night. It was customary in many parts of Scotland to have hundreds
of torches prepared in each district for weeks before Hallowe’en, so
that, after sunset on that evening, every youth able to carry a blazing
torch, or “samhnag,” ran forth to surround the boundaries of their farms
with these burning lights, and thereby protect all their possessions from
the fairies. Having thus secured themselves by these fires of peace,
all the households congregated to practice the various ceremonies and
superstitious rites of that eventful evening. As these are pretty fully
alluded to in Burns’ poem of “Hallowe’en,” it is unnecessary to enlarge
here. There is still a remarkable uniformity in these fireside customs
all over the kingdom. Nuts and apples are everywhere in requisition.
These the old matron of the house has generally in store beforehand for
the youngsters’ good luck on that night, or as the Ayrshire Bard has so
naturally expressed it—
The auld guidwife’s weel hoordit nits
Are round and round divided,
And mony lads’ and lasses’ fate
Are there that night decided.
Some kindle couthie, side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa’ wi’ saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimley,
Fu’ high that night.
The ceremonies of the evening were numerous—such as, ducking for apples
in a tub of water, the pulling of kail stocks, the three dishes or
“luggies,” the wetting of the shirt sleeve, the sowing of hemp seed,
pulling the stalks of corn, throwing the clue of blue yarn into the
pit of the kiln, the white of eggs put into a glass of water, reading
of fortunes in tea-cups; these and many more were the superstitious
ceremonies of Hallowe’en.
Perhaps there is no part of the Highlands of Scotland where the practice
of using the flaming torches of Hallowe’en is so much observed, even
still, as in the braes of Aberdeenshire. Not later than last year,
our Gracious Majesty, no doubt in order to preserve those relics of
ancient times, caused these blazing torches to be kindled by the youth
of the place, around Balmoral Castle. The torches are considered by the
natives to be the means of protecting, not only their farms and other
possessions from the ravages of the fairies, but likewise mothers and
newly-born infants. While the landed possessions were duly surrounded
that evening by the torch-bearers, the dwellings where children had born
were encompassed with still greater care, for the safety of the mothers
and their young offspring, which the fairies were on the watch to snatch
away. The torch-bearers used great care in carrying their fire in the
right-hand, and therewith running around their premises from right to
left, thus observing the “Deas-iuil,” or the right hand direction. The
“Tuath-iuil,” being the left-hand, or wrong direction, would render
their precautions entirely abortive. In this manner they protected
their properties, and prevented the fairy thieves from snatching away
the unbaptised infants from their mothers’ bed, placing in their room
their own ugly and deformed children. Martin, in his _History of the
Western Isles_, informs us, “That this was considered an effectual means
to preserve both the mother and infant from the power of evil spirits,
who are ready at such times to do mischief, and sometimes carry away
the infants, and return poor, meagre skeletons; and these infants have
voracious appetites. In this case it was usual for those who believed
that their children were thus taken away, to dig a grave in the fields
on 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 the skeleton.” They had also, in other
localties, recourse to the barbarous charm of burning, with a live coal,
the toes of the suffering infant, the supposed changeling. The Fairies
were not contented with abstracting handsome children—beautiful maidens
and wives sometimes disappeared.
“The Miller of Menstrie,” in Clackmannan, who possessed a charming
spouse, had given offence to the fairy court, and was, in consequence,
deprived of his fair helpmate. His distress was aggravated by hearing his
wife singing in the air—
Oh! Alva woods are bonnie,
Tillicoultry hills are fair;
But when I think o’ the bonnie braes o’ Menstrie,
It mak’s my heart aye sair.
After many attempts to procure her restoration, the miller chanced
one day, in riddling some stuff at the mill-door, to use a posture of
enchantment, when the spell was dissolved, and the matron fell into his
arms. The wife of the Blacksmith of Tullibody was carried up the chimney,
the fairies, as they bore her off, singing—
Deidle linkum doddie;
We’ve gotten drucken Davie’s wife,
The smith o’ Tullibody.
“Those snatched to Fairyland,” says Dr. Buchan,[10] “might be recovered
within a year and a day, but the spell for the recovery was only potent
when the fairies made, on Hallowe’en, their annual procession.” Sir
Walter Scott relates the following:—“The wife of a Lothian farmer had
been watched by the fairies. During the year of probation, she had
repeatedly appeared on Sundays in the midst of her children, combing
their hair. On one of these occasions she was accosted by her husband,
when she instructed him how to rescue her at the next Hallowe’en
procession. The farmer conned his lesson carefully, and, on the appointed
day, proceeded to a plot of furze to await the arrival of the procession.
It came, but the ringing of the fairy bridles so confused him, that
the train passed ere he could sufficiently recover himself to use the
intended spell. The unearthly laugh of the abductors, and the passionate
lamentations of his wife informed him that she was lost to him for ever.”
“A woman,” says Dr. Buchan, “who had been conveyed to fairyland, was
warned by one she had formerly known as a mortal, to avoid eating and
drinking with her new friends for a certain period. She obeyed, and when
the time expired, she found herself on earth restored to the society of
mankind.”
A matron on another occasion was carried to fairyland to nurse her
new-born child, which had been previously abducted. She had not been
long in her enchanted dwelling when she furtively anointed an eye with
the contents of a boiling cauldron. She now discovered that what had
previously seemed a gorgeous palace, was, in reality, a gloomy cavern.
She was dismissed, but one of the wicked wights, when she demanded her
child, spat in her eye, and extinguished its light for ever.
About the middle of last century, a clergyman at Kirkmichael, Perthshire,
whose faith was more regulated by the scepticism of philosophy, than
the credulity of superstition, would not be prevailed upon to yield his
assent to the opinion of the times. At length, however, he felt from
experience that he doubted what he ought to have believed. One night, as
he was returning home at a late hour, from a meeting of Presbytery, and
the customary dinner which followed, he was seized by the fairies, and
carried aloft into the air. Through fields of ether and fleecy cloud he
journeyed many a mile, descrying the earth far distant below him, and no
bigger than a nut-shell. Being thus sufficiently convinced of the reality
of their existence, they let him down at the door of his own house, where
he afterwards often recited to the wondering circle, the marvellous tale
of his adventure. Some people will believe that “spirits” of a different
sort had a little to do with the worthy minister’s conviction, and that
his “ain gude grey mare” had more to do with bringing him to his own
door than the fairies.