Folklore of the Scottish Highlands

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Folklore of the Scottish Highlands Page 12

by Anne Ross


  28Bronze cauldron, Kincardine Moss, Stirlingshire. R. Hingley 1998, 52

  In the nineteenth century, Carmichael, in his invaluable collection of the ancient lore of Gaelic Scotland, gives posterity many further examples of portentous signs, and the ways in which they may be interpreted. Lucky signs were known as rathadach; unlucky omens were called rosadach. Carmichael notes that the sight of a man, especially one with brown hair, is a good omen; a man coming towards or looking at the seer is likewise an excellent sign. But a man going away from the seer is an extremely unfavourable omen. If a man is seen by the seer, standing, or an animal in the act of getting up, this means that a sick person is throwing off the disease. The reverse is indicative that the illness will continue. The sight of a woman is likewise regarded as fortunate, provided she does not have red hair; this is never lucky, any more than is left-handedness. Corrach means ‘left-handed’; it also means tricky, crooked, and, in fact, in its true sense, sinister. There is some confusion in this vast repertoire of lucky and unlucky omens; according to some, for a seer to observe a woman standing is a sign of good luck; in the opinion of others, the reverse is the case. If the seer observes a woman approaching he should cross himself. It is also a bad omen if a woman is seen to be going away; a woman with light red hair is a bad omen; a woman with dark red hair is even worse. An augurer, performing an augury, must quickly cross himself if he sees a woman with red hair.

  Sacrifices of various kinds were, as we have seen, performed for various purposes and for certain calendar festivals. Dark hints of human sacrifice underlie many of these vestigial pagan feasts; and human sacrifice, sometimes on a grand scale, was very much a feature of universal pre-Christian Celtic practice. There are also traces of its persistence into a Christian milieu, and even today, the saying ‘Chaidh ùir air sùil Odhrain’, ‘Earth went over Odhran’s eye’, is widely heard in the Highlands and Islands, and people will readily explain the meaning of this statement. When Saint Columba, best-loved of all the Celtic saints, left Ireland in the sixth century, in order to go into permanent exile, virtually as an act of martyrdom, he chose the island of Iona, because it was impossible to see Ireland from it; it is also possible that it was a Druidic sanctuary which he proceeded to Christianise. A legend, of a widespread kind, is told concerning the saint’s efforts to erect the first building of his monastic community. No matter how soundly they were constructed, the walls, by the machinations of some evil spirit, collapsed as soon as they had been erected. Columba recognised that some propitiation was necessary and, on prayer, was told that the building would never remain standing unless a human foundation sacrifice was buried there alive (29). Lots were cast and Odhran was chosen; other versions of the legend say that he himself volunteered to be the victim. He was buried alive, and after three days, Columba was overcome with curiosity to find out how his follower fared, and ordered that he should be dug up. Odhran allegedly looked at the saint and said: ‘There is no wonder in death, and hell is not as it is reported’. The saint was horrified by this unChristian statement and had Odhran buried again with all haste.

  Another version of the saying is ‘Uir! Uir! air beul Odhrain’, ‘Earth, earth, on Odhran’s mouth’. Some people who still know the legend say that the story was invented by Columba’s Druidic rivals in order to discredit the saint. Martin records that in his day it was traditional belief that Columba allowed no woman who was not a nun to stay on the island. Nearby is a small isle where all the tradesmen employed on the island had to keep their womenfolk, and for this reason it was known as the Island of Women. This seems to be an echo of the ancient pagan legend of small sacred islands which were entirely inhabited by women who were completely dedicated to the cult of some powerful deity; their rites often included human sacrifice, and no man must set foot on these islands. The women periodically left them in order to have sexual intercourse with men; it is probable that the male issue of such unions were sacrificed, while the females were reared to become future initiates in the cult. The classical writers refer to such places, and there are references to them in the early Irish tales.

  Things to do and things not to do encompassed a large sphere of Highland life, for not only was daily life closely circumscribed by tabu and superstition; social intercourse and human contact were equally restricted and founded on ancient tradition. And even today this applies to some extent, especially to such matters as good manners and hospitality, for which the Celt has been renowned down the centuries, to the amazement even of the classical commentators on ancient Gaulish manners. Travellers have always been astonished at the unquestioning generosity of the Highlander to the stranger; the custom of always leaving a portion ‘for the man on the hill’, i.e. the chance guest, is widely observed. This was one of the many features of the Highland temperament that so amazed Dr Johnson on his tour. The stranger had only to arrive at even the poorest dwelling, to be given a portion of whatever happened to be available. For example, Boswell tells us:

  29Iona: St Oran’s Chapel, partly twelfth-century, the Abbey Church, restored in the fifteenth century, other restored buildings including the Nunnery, and Early Christian crosses. After J. Fisher 1983, 5-7

  At Auchnasheal, we sat down on a green turf seat at the end of a house; they brought us out two wooden dishes of milk, which we tasted. One of them was frothed like a syllabub.

  Again, at an inn in Glenelg:

  This inn was furnished with not a single article that we could either eat or drink; but Mr Murchison, factor to the Laird of MacLeod in Glenelg, sent us a bottle of rum and some sugar, with a polite message, to acquaint us, that he was very sorry that he did not hear of us till we had passed his house, otherwise he should have insisted on our sleeping there that night; and that, if he were not obliged to set out for Inverness early next morning, he would have waited upon us. — Such extraordinary attention from this gentleman, to entire strangers, deserves the most honourable commemoration.

  Martin records the welcome accorded by the natives of the remote island of Ronay told to him by Mr Morison, a visiting minister from the Outer Isles. One of the natives demonstrated his high regard for the visitor by making a turn about him sunwise, blessing him and wishing him all happiness. He wished to avoid this, to him, pagan welcome, but the natives insisted upon it. On the way to the village they passed three enclosures. As Morison entered each of these, the inhabitants all saluted him shouting ‘Traveller you are welcome here’. A house had been chosen for his lodging. There was a bundle of straw on the floor for the minister to sit on. After a short, general discourse the natives went back to their homes and each man killed a sheep; five in all were killed. There were only five families on the entire island. The skins of the sheep were kept whole and flayed from the neck to the tail so that they formed a sort of sack. The skins were then filled with barley meal and this was given to the minister as a gift. Morison’s servant was also presented with some bags of meal, as he was also a traveller. Such was the sacredness of the stranger and the traveller in the eyes of the Highlanders to whom hospitality was almost a religion.

  Martin has some interesting information to give about the natives of Ronay. He testifies to their devoutness; every Sunday morning they met in the chapel to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed and Ten Commandments (having no resident minister to preach to them). Their houses were built of stone and thatched with straw; the thatch was secured by means of straw ropes, and these were weighted down with stones. The only language spoken was Gaelic, and the people dressed, apparently, like the natives of Lewis. All the people died off when some sailors landed on the island and stole the bull; without it their only source of produce was taken from them; a new colony was planted there later, but it is not recorded by Martin how this fared.

  Another instance of the widespread tradition of hospitality in the Highlands is given by Martin when he says, of North Uist:

  There was never an Inn here till of late, and now there is but one, which is not at all frequented, for eating, bu
t only for drinking. The fine hospitality of the natives rendered an eating-house unnecessary.

  Many elaborate daily customs are recorded by Martin and other writers, some of obvious extreme antiquity. He says, for example, that it was an ancient custom which was still in operation in his day, that when a group of men went into a house to do business, or to drink, the door of the house was left open and a rod was put across it; by this, it was understood that no person without rank may approach the house; if anyone should be ill-mannered enough to remove this rod and enter without invitation, he would cause serious affront to the company assembled within. Severe punishment was meted out to the offender by the gathering.

  In Martin’s observations, as in those of writers on the Celts down the ages, orators always held an elevated place in society. Their houses and villages were regarded as sanctuaries and they had precedence even over medical doctors. Martin says that after the Druids had lost their authority the orators were employed to preserve the genealogies of the noble families — always an important Highland activity. These were recited on public occasions such as the succession of a chief, or his marriage or the birth of an heir. As in the distant past, anything requested by these orators was given to them, more out of fear of satire — a powerful and much-dreaded weapon — than out of respect. By Martin’s time, however, these people had lost their effective power and only received a pittance.

  Cures, tabus, and social customs are all closely intermingled in Highland life; for example, on the island of Gigha it was considered unlucky to bury people on a Friday. On the other hand, only a Friday would be suitable for the performance of certain cures. The healing of màm (fàireagan na hachlais), swelling of the glands, must be undertaken on a Friday by certain gifted people, using specific methods. A magical incantation was apparently whispered over the blade of a knife or axe — steel was an essential ingredient in the cure — which was then held close to the mouth, and finally the blade was placed upon the swollen part. The swelling was then crossed and divided into nine or some other odd number; each time one of these divisions of the swelling was crossed with the steel, the blade was pointed towards a hill, the name of which began with màm and not the more usual ben. In this way the swelling of sickness was transferred to the natural swelling of the hill and this performance was believed to be an infallible cure. When the swelling had been divided up and counted in this way, the blade was pointed towards the ground and the following words were said: ‘The pain be in the ground and the affliction in the earth’. Martin records an interesting remedy for fever which was used in the island of Colonsay. A certain man, a member of whose family was ill with a fever, went to Martin to borrow his Bible so that he could fan the patient’s face with it; at once, the sick person began to improve. This was apparently a recognised method of healing the sick.

  Martin records a tradition connected with the preservation of boundaries which is of considerable interest. In Skye, people laid a quantity of burnt wood ash on the ground, and over this they placed large stones. A somewhat barbarous means of making each new generation aware of where the traditional boundaries were situated was as follows. Some boys from the villages on either side of the boundary were carried there and soundly whipped so that they should never forget the place; this, when the time came, they themselves did to their own offspring. Martin mentions that a boundary between the villages of Ose and Groban was being disputed at one time; when the stones were lifted and ashes were found there, the controversy was decided.

  Charms were widely used, not only for the protection of the stock, the dwelling and its inmates, but against specific mishaps, including drowning and death in battle. The following translation of a Gaelic charm collected from an old man in Mull, about 1800, is given by Campbell in his book on Witchcraft and is important enough to quote here in full:

  For himself and for his goods,

  The charm Bridget put round Dorgill’s daughter,

  The charm Mary put round her Son,

  Between her soles and her neck,

  Between her breast and her knee,

  Between her eye and her hair;

  The sword of Michael be on thy side,

  The shield of Michael on thy shoulder;

  There is none between sky and earth

  Can overcome the King of grace.

  Edge will not cleave thee,

  Sea will not drown thee,

  Christ’s banners round thee,

  Christ’s shadow over thee;

  From thy crown to thy sole,

  The charm of virtue covers thee.

  You will go in the King’s name,

  And come in your Commander’s name;

  Thou belongest to God and all His powers.

  I will make the charm on Monday,

  In a narrow, sharp, thorny space;

  Go, with the charm about thee,

  And let no fear be on thee!

  Thou wilt ascend the tops of cliffs,

  And not be thrown backwards;

  Thou art the calm Swan’s son in battle,

  Thou wilt stand amid the slaughter;

  Thou wilt run through five hundred,

  And thy oppressor will be caught;

  God’s charm be about thee!

  People go with thee!

  A smith in Mull was alleged to have got this charm from his father. He subsequently enlisted in the army and fought in some 30 battles. He came home unscathed; although he had in fact been struck by bullets, the charm rendered them powerless. This is only one example of many beliefs in the power of the sian, ‘charm’ against war.

  Charms were also used for the cloth when it had been waulked, or shrunk. It was then neatly folded and laid on the table, and the waulking women gathered round and sang a charm over the material. As they sang, they lifted their hands together and beat the cloth, turning it over after each repetition of the charm.

  Popular belief has it the oldest traditions in the Scottish Highlands are to be found in the islands and the coastal regions. This is not by any means always the case and sometimes truly archaic customs and ritual survive in more central areas which tend to be isolated from intrusive cultural elements by reason of their wild terrain and general inaccessibility. One of the most exciting of these is the region from Killin in central Perthshire, leading through Fortingall and on up the long, wild countryside which borders Loch Tay and towards the mountains beyond. Loch Lyon itself was greatly elongated by the development of hydroelectric power, and to reach the upper wilderness it is more convenient for those who have not too much time to spare to approach by road one of the most fascinating cult complexes of a pagan nature in the British Isles. I have described this site and the traditions associated with it in Druids (1999) and the reader will find more information there than I have space to include in this more general work. The whole glen, from Fortingall up towards Loch Lyon, bears convincing traces of its former importance in pre-Christian times. Many beliefs are associated with the ancient, circular, fortified dwellings the ruins of which stud the region. The church of Fortingall, which stands at the mouth of Glen Lyon, dominates a countryside which was once believed to be a popular hunting ground of the Irish semi-divine hero, Fionn MacCumhail, and many prehistoric circles of stones and other ancient features have still survived, to a greater or lesser extent, no doubt in a considerably aetiolated form. It is not surprising that a church should have been erected in such a position, and should have possessed one of the most ancient yew trees in the British Isles, which has been dated by recent dendrochronology to a thousand years BC. It was clearly an important bile (sacred tree) of a kind and species which played an important role in wider early European paganism and here would have been accredited with strong apotropaic powers. The hallowed nature of the site is emphasised by the presence on the gateposts of two huge, leonine stones (30), their weird shapes fashioned, not by human hands, but by the action of the turbulent, dark River Lyon, which flows nearby.

  30Water-worn stones on the gateposts at F
ortingall Church. From a photograph by the author

  One can hardly do other than envisage these remarkable ‘monuments’ as apotropaic features, especially as the gateposts of an estate opposite the church are similarly adorned, as are the gates of many properties in the glen and one is even sited emphatically as the very top stone of the war memorial. Testifying, perhaps, to the original and intense pagan associations of these features is the fact that a mound opposite the church, which is popularly explained as having been the place where the bodies of an earlier population decimated by plague had been piled and covered over with turves and stones. Another factor pointing to the stubborn persistence of pagan practices is the presence of names of features or structures which contain the ancient word nemed, nemeton (31), a sacred grove or a building in a sacred grove. This word is found widely throughout Celtic Europe. The glen itself was once rich in legends of giants and water monsters and supernatural creatures of every kind. Sadly, many of the stories about them have virtually been forgotten as the old people who treasured them have now died and so many of the remaining, younger generations have lost interest in the old ways of the countryside. However, in spite of all these inauspicious factors, several fascinating folk sites and legends have been preserved and a new awareness of their unique importance has caused many of the people to determine that what is left of their Celtic heritage will not be allowed to perish.

 

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