Folklore of the Scottish Highlands

by Anne Ross

  To return to the important festival of New Year, Campbell, in his Witchcraft, notes that Latha na Bliadhn’ Ùr, ‘New Year’s Day’, was also known as the Day of Little Christmas. After the family had got up in the morning, the head of the house gave a dram of whisky to each member of the household; then a strange custom followed in some areas; a breakfast was provided of half-boiled sowens (fermented porage) — austere fare for a festive occasion. This was supposed to bring luck to the household. Campbell does say that this tradition was not observed in Mull, Morvern or the Western Isles. Then each member of the family exchanged traditional greetings and did likewise with every person they met. The boys then went off to play shinty and meanwhile a late and luxurious breakfast was prepared. Apparently, no substance of any kind was allowed to be removed from the house on New Year’s Day — dirty water, sweepings from the floor, ashes and so on. If a neighbour’s fire had gone out one must not give fire from one’s own house to him; this was regarded as one of the most unlucky things that could be done. It would ensure a death within that family during the coming year; it also gave power to the black witches to take away the produce from the cattle. No woman should enter the house first on this portentous day.

  Là Féill Bhríde, St Bride’s Day

  This most important festival is of particular interest in that not only has an ancient Celtic calendar festival been taken over into Christianity, but a pagan goddess, Bride, or Brigit, has become a Christian saint, and in the Hebrides is held to be the midwife of the Virgin Mary. St Bride’s feast-day is on 1 February, the time of one of the four great calendar festivals of the pagan Celtic year, Imbolc, a pastoral feast to celebrate lactation of the ewes, which began at that time. Bride was deeply loved in the Highlands, and until the nineteenth century very elaborate ritual was associated with her special day. In origin, the daughter of the Irish god, the Dagda (Deagh Dia, ‘Good god’), and envisaged, like so many Celtic deities in triple form, she was also venerated in Celtic Europe, and gave her name in the form Brigantia, ‘the High One’, to the powerful confederacy of Celtic tribes in North Britain, the Brigantes, ‘Devotees of Brigantia’. It is clear that she was a very important Celtic deity. She was taken over into Christianity as St Brigit of Kildare, and her association with the land and the stock is always stressed in the earliest written references. A perpetual fire was kept burning in her honour at Kildare, constantly attended by nine Virgins. As the midwife of the supreme birth, she was much invoked in the Highlands by women in child-bed who sought her assistance in an easy and safe delivery. Very complex and elaborate ceremonies took place on 1 February. Carmichael records that at one time, in the Catholic islands, the genealogy or sloinntearachd — always a passion amongst the Celts — of Bride was recited; it was chanted, and believed to be helpful in a variety of situations. Hymns were also sung to the goddess-saint on her feast day, but even in Carmichael’s time, there were only fragmentary folk memories of them extant. The day was known in Gaelic as Là Féill Bhrìde, ‘St Brigit’s Feast Day’.

  A legend was current in the Hebrides as to how the saint delivered Christ in the stable in Bethlehem; immediately after his birth she placed three drops of spring water on his brow, in the name of the Trinity. For this reason, people used to say, she is called Muime Chriosda, ‘the Foster-mother of Christ’. He in his turn was known as Dalta Brìde ‘the Foster-Son of Bride’. This is an extremely important relationship in the Highlands, the tradition of fosterage being deeply rooted in Celtic traditions from earliest times, and the bond between foster-mother and foster-son being almost closer than that of parent and child. Carmichael, who made an invaluable contribution to our knowledge of Highland folklore and custom when he collected these vestigial remains of a once-elaborate ritual, records that when a woman was in labour, the midwife would go to her door, place her hands on the jambs, and beg Bride to enter by saying:

  Bride! Bride! come in,

  Thy welcome is truly made,

  Give thou relief to the woman.

  And give the conception to the Trinity.

  An easy birth was believed to indicate that the saint was well-disposed towards the family; a difficult delivery suggested the opposite. The midwife placed three drops of pure water on the new-born infant’s brow, just as Bride is alleged to have done to the baby Christ.

  Diardaoin Chaluim-Chille, ‘St Columba’s Day’

  In discussing Highland Calendar Festivals, we have seen that Pennant mentions how on the first Monday of every quarter the people in the Conon region used to sprinkle their cattle with urine — urine being widely believed to have strong apotropaic powers. He then goes on to mention that ‘in some parts of the country there is a rural sacrifice, different from that before-mentioned’. He observed that a cross was cut on some sticks, which were then dipped in pottage; the Thursday before Easter one of each of these was placed over the sheep-cot, the stable, or the cow-house, to protect the stock. Maundy Thursday was, of course, St Columba’s Day — Diardaoin Chaluim-Chille, one of the best-loved of the Highland saints. The Day was observed in a variety of different ways throughout the Highlands. It was looked upon as a lucky day for all activities, including setting out on a journey. On the eve of St Columba’s Day, the woman of the house used to make a bannock of oats or rye and she would place a small silver coin in this. The cake was then toasted in front of a fire which had been kindled from one of the sacred woods — oak, yew, or rowan. On Maundy Thursday the head of the house would take the cake and cut it into as many pieces as there were children in the family, all of the same size. These were placed in a basket and each child helped himself to a piece; the child who got the coin was given the crop of lambs for the year, or at least part of them. In coastal regions a very pagan practice occurred; offerings were made to some now obscure sea-god. This strange custom persisted down into the twentieth century. In Lewis, for example, the god was called Shony, a corruption no doubt of some ancient pagan divine name. A man would wade up to his waist in the sea and pour ale into it at midnight on the Eve of Maundy Thursday; various chants are known, and one recorded by Carmichael is as follows:

  O God of the sea,

  Put weed in the drawing wave

  To enrich the ground,

  To shower on us food.

  Everyone behind the man performing this ritual took up the chant; often the ceremony would be followed by food and drink and merry-making. The patently pagan custom was seriously frowned on by the Protestant Church, but persisted nevertheless. Thursday, because of its associations with St Columba, was always regarded as a lucky day, except, apparently, when Beltain fell on a Thursday. The following incantation used to be said on St Columba’s Day:

  Thursday of Columba benign,

  Day to send sheep on prosperity,

  Day to send cow on calf,

  Day to put the web in the warp.

  Day to put coracle on the brine,

  Day to place the staff to the flag,

  Day to bear, day to die,

  Day to hunt the heights.

  Day to put horses in harness,

  Day to send herds to pasture,

  Day to make prayer efficacious,

  Day of my beloved, the Thursday,

  Day of my beloved, the Thursday.

  Di-Dòmhnaich-Càisg, ‘Easter’

  Easter Sunday was observed in the Highlands by preparing and eating certain kinds of pancakes made of eggs, milk and meal or flour. The tradition of taking quantities of hard-boiled eggs dyed in various substances was also prevalent amongst the young; these were rolled and then eaten; this custom persists in many places to the present day. Good Friday was also observed, and in many areas the sanctity of this day was remembered throughout the year. For example, the time of the marking of the lambs was once thought to be fraught with potential evil and danger. Invocations and special rites were widely regarded as being necessary to avoid disaster. The marking was traditionally done on a Thursday, St Columba’s Day. It was customary never to mark the lambs on a
Friday, or to draw blood on that day. Carmichael records that the Highlanders tended never to use iron in any form on Friday. A blacksmith in Benbecula, and a Protestant not a Catholic, would, according to Carmichael, never open his smithy on a Friday. He used to say, apparently, that ‘that was the least he could do to honour his Master’. The pieces cut from the lambs’ ears were carefully buried beyond reach of bird or beast. It was believed that a certain plant grew from them, which was known as gearradh-chluasach; when this plant is ripe, it is cut, tied up in a bunch and hung from the beam above the door of the lamb cot. This custom still persisted until Carmichael’s time.

  Là Beltain, ‘May Day’

  Beltain was one of the most ancient calendar festivals of the Celtic year. It was sacred to the god Belinus, whose cult orbit stretched from the Italic Peninsula, across Europe and into the British Isles. The great Catuvellaunian leader in southern Britain, whose reign lasted some 40 years and ended shortly before the Claudian invasion in AD 43, bore the name of Cunobelinus — Hound of Belinus (35), and there is evidence that the mythological king in the story of Lludd and Llefelys in the Mabinogion, Beli Mawr, is a folk memory of this mighty god. His festival was held on 1 May, and the vestigial remains of it lasted into the twentieth century in the Highlands with all the essential elements of the pagan feast, modified, of course, by the dictates of Christianity. It was a great period of purification; at this time the Druids, the powerful pagan Celtic priests, used to drive the cattle between two fires, specially kindled, and made of sacred wood, to protect them from disease and the powers of darkness. Human sacrifice and offerings were made, and the ritual would be followed by rejoicing and festivities of all kinds. In recent centuries the sacrifices were replaced by token offerings.

  Pennant says of the Conon region near Dingwall, that the sticks placed on the Thursday before Easter over the sheep-cot, the stable or the cow-house were, in his day, carried to the hill on 1 May where the rites were celebrated, all decked with wild flowers, and after the feast was finished, they were replaced on the places from which they had been taken; these sticks were known as Clou-an-Beltain or the split branch of the fire of the rock. He goes on to say: ‘These follies are now seldom practised, and that with the utmost secrecy; for the Clergy are indefatigable in discouraging every species of superstition’. But in spite of the very considerable power of the Church, the power of time-honoured tradition proved stronger, and these practices persisted into the twentieth century, publicly, or covertly. Shaw, commenting on Moray traditions from the eighteenth century, says that on May Day sacrifices were offered for the preservation of the cattle; the minister stated that, as a boy, he had been present at these.

  Alexander Carmichael has, as always, much important information to give us which he recorded at a time when these pagan ceremonies were still practised to a certain extent, or when those who had taken part in them before they became redundant, were able to give him first-hand information about the details. The first day of May was the day when the summer grazings (àiridhean, ‘shielings’) began, and there is a whole world of folklore connected with the shielings alone. The cattle were taken to the hill, together with the sheep and goats; the women and children lived in small bothies and herded the beasts and saw to the dairy produce, and from time to time the men visited them, and there were stories told and songs sung, and the youths courted the girls, and this season was looked upon as the happiest and best of the entire year. After the huts had been repaired a lamb was killed; this was originally a sacrifice, but in Carmichael’s time it was simply eaten as part of the feast at the beginning of the summer grazings at Beltain. The shielings lasted in Lewis and some other places in the West until well into the twentieth century, but the custom, like so many others, has died out. Like everything else in the Celtic world, each activity must be hallowed by ritual; so the Driving of the Cows was sung or incanted for the protection of the beasts on the long journey. Another splendid and heroic mixture of paganism and Christianity is to be found in the incantation An Saodachadh, ‘The Driving’:

  35Coins of CUNOBELINUS. A. Ross 1967, 30, figs 50b-c

  The protection of Odhran the dun be yours,

  The protection of Brigit the Nurse be yours,

  The protection of Mary the Virgin be yours

  In marshes and in rocky ground,

  In marshes and in rocky ground.

  The keeping of Ciaran the swart be yours,

  The keeping of Brianan the yellow be yours,

  The keeping of Diarmaid the brown be yours,

  A-sauntering the meadows,

  A-sauntering the meadows.

  The safeguard of Fionn mac Cumhall be yours,

  The safeguard of Cormac the shapely be yours,

  The safeguard of Conn and Cumhall be yours

  From wolf and from bird-flock

  From wolf and from bird-flock.

  The sanctuary of Colum Cille be yours,

  The sanctuary of Maol Ruibhe be yours,

  The sanctuary of the milking maid be yours,

  To seek you and search for you,

  To seek you and search for you.

  The encircling of Maol Odhrain be yours,

  The encircling of Maol Oighe be yours,

  The encircling of Maol Domhnaich be yours,

  To protect you and to herd you,

  To protect you and to herd you.

  The shield of the king of the Fiann be yours

  The shield of the king of the sun be yours

  The shield of the king of the stars be yours

  In jeopardy and distress,

  In jeopardy and distress.

  The sheltering of the king of kings be yours,

  The sheltering of Jesus Christ be yours,

  The sheltering of the Spirit of healing be yours,

  From evil deed and quarrel,

  From evil dog and red dog [fox].

  In this incantation for the protection of the stock we have, once again, a marvellous blend of pagan characters and Christian saints; a faith in the elements which were much sworn on by the Celts in ancient times, and continued to be invoked with equal fervour in a Christian milieu. Perhaps, in these incantations, recorded for posterity just in time by the devoted labours of Alexander Carmichael, one can achieve the most profound understanding of the true and abiding nature of the Celtic psyche and cultural individuality. Just as the new-born child, or the infant, helpless in its cradle, had need of every charm and blessing, so must the stock be kept from physical and supernatural danger by incantation and ritual. Nothing must be overlooked, nothing left open to the evil forces that constantly lay in wait to destroy the progeny, the stock, the unwary traveller, the labouring mother.

  Là Beltain, May Day, was then a most important calendar festival until the end of the nineteenth century. Fires were kindled that day on the mountain tops and all the cattle of the countryside were driven through them to preserve them until next May Day. On this day, all the hearth-fires were extinguished, in order to be kindled from the purifying flame from the sacred fire. In the past, the young people went out to the moors on this day, made a fire, baked a large cake, and this was cut into as many pieces as were people present. One of the pieces was daubed with charcoal and made quite black. Then all the pieces of cake were put into a bonnet, and all the men, who were blindfolded, drew out a piece. The man who selected the blackened piece was doomed to be sacrificed to Belinus; in order to avoid sacrifice. which would, of course, have taken place in pagan times, the victim had to leap six times over the flames. The writer heard of such festivities which still took place in Glen Lyon within living memory.

  Lughnasa

  Lugh was one of the most widespread and powerful gods both on the Continent and in the British Isles. Several towns are named after him and at Lugudunum (Lyon) an important festival was celebrated on 1 August in honour of the Emperor Augustus and it seems beyond question that this feast replaced one in honour of the native god, whose special day was 1 August. It goes bac
k, then, to pre-Roman times and survived vestigially into the twentieth century. The Christian Church does not seem to have opposed this festival which was held to mark the beginning of the harvest. The feast is, of course, named after the pan-Celtic god, and Cormac in his ninth-century glossary makes the following comments: ‘Lughnasa, i.e. the násad of Lugh son of Ethle, i.e. an assembly held by him at the beginning of harvest each year at the time of Lughnasa’.

  Násad means ‘games’, or ‘assembly’; in the Celtic world, the two were synonymous. In modern times, the festival has been called by a variety of different names, masking its pagan connotation, but it is clear that it is the ancient feast which was deeply-embedded in the lives of the people whose well-being depended upon the nature and quality of the year’s crops. Originally connected with the corn, it was extended to the potato-harvest as well, when potatoes became the staple diet of the people in Ireland and Scotland. An early Irish tradition has it that Lugh established the festival in honour of his foster-mother, Tailtiu. It was a time of much joy, because the people in the Highlands and Islands were very short of food before the harvest, and it was essentially a joyous feast, with plenty of good things and treats for all.

  Once again, we must look to Carmichael for information in the Highlands and Islands about this festival:

  The day the people began to reap the corn was a day of commotion and ceremonial in the townland. The whole family repaired to the field dressed in their best attire to hail the God of the harvest. Laying his bonnet on the ground, the father of the family took up his sickle, and facing the sun, he cut a handful of corn. Putting the handful of corn three times sunwise round his head, the man raised the Iolach Buana, ‘reaping salutation’. The whole family took up the strain and praised the God of the harvest, who gave them corn and bread, food and flocks, wool and clothing, health and strength, and peace and plenty. When the reaping was finished the people had a trial called cur nan corran, casting the sickles, and deuchainn chorran, ‘trial of hooks’. This consisted, amongst other things, of throwing the sickles high up in the air, and observing how they came down, how each struck the earth, and how it lay on the ground. From these observations the people augured who was to remain single, and who was to be married, who was to be sick and who was to die, before the next reaping came round.