Part 24

As the Norwegian language and other Norwegian characteristics have given way to the Gaelic tongue, manners, and customs, in the former Norwegian districts on the north coast of Scotland, from Clyth Ness in Caithness to Dingwall on the Firth of Cromarty, we can scarcely be surprised that the north coast of Sutherland, whose rocks and heaths offered much fewer allurements to the Norwegians than the fertile valleys and plains of the east coast, and which were therefore far less colonized by them, should have preserved distinct traces of these foreign conquerors only in a few names of places. A remarkable instance of the Gaelic language having expelled the Norwegian is to be found immediately on the borders of Caithness, in the valley of Halladale. In a river there are two waterfalls, of which the uppermost is called Forsinard, and the lower one Forsindin. In both these names the Norwegian “Fors” is not to be mistaken; but Gaelic terminations have in later times been added by the Gaels, so that Forsinard now signifies the upper Fors, and Forsindin the under, or lower, Fors. Halladale is likewise frequently called by the additional Gaelic name of Strath—“Strath Halladale.”

This much, however, is clear, that the whole of the north and west coast of Sutherland was once colonized by Norwegians. Besides various names of places west of Halladale, which likewise end in _dale_, such as Armadale, Swordale, and Torrisdale, it is surprising that we should still meet with pure Norwegian names on four of the largest firths of the north-west of Sutherland; viz., on the north coast the “Kyle of Tongue” (from “túnga,” a tongue of land, a naze), together with the adjoining village, Kirkiboll (Kirkebolet); further, Loch Eriboll, with the large farm of Eriboll (the _bol_ on the Eir, or tongue of land, from the _Old N._ “eyri”); the Kyle of Durness, or Dyrnæs, with the _bol_, or dwelling, of Crossboll; and lastly, on the west coast, not far from Cape Wrath, Loch Laxford (Laxfjorden, or the Salmon Firth; _Old N._, “Laxafjörðr”). “Loch” is the Gaelic name for a lake or firth, and consequently, in Loch Laxford, expresses tautologically the existence of a fiord or firth; just as the name “valley” is twice expressed in Strath Helmsdale and Strath Halladale. The last three of the above-mentioned firths seem to have been of much importance to the Norwegians. There is an excellent harbour in Loch Eriboll, which is still frequented by numerous ships. The neighbourhood round Loch Durnes afforded excellent opportunities for hunting the deer, particularly on Durnæs itself, which extends between Loch Durnes and the Atlantic up to Cape Wrath (_Old N._, “Hvarf”), and which, still later in the middle ages, was celebrated for its excellent deer. Loch Laxford, which obtained its name from the salmon (Lax) in the river and at its mouth, is commonly known to the present day as one of the rivers in Scotland most abounding with that fish. Several isolated rocks in the sea by the coast of Sutherland are called, as in the Shetland Isles, “stacks;” and in several names of islands we meet with the Scandinavian _sker_ or _skjær_; such as Skerroar (Skjæröerne, the rock islands); and in Loch Eriboll, Dhusker, Skerron, and others. A little island near the middle of the west coast is called Calva (_Old N._, “Kálfey,” or the Calf Island), a name frequently given by the Northmen to small islands that lay in the neighbourhood of a larger one (for instance, the Calf of Man). For the rest, Calva is one of the last decidedly recognisable Scandinavian names of places on the west coast of Sutherland. The real Norwegian population evidently ceased at Laxfjord. Norwegian names of places are scarcely to be found on the coasts of the Highlands to the south of Sutherland. The country there was so wild, rocky, and remote, that foreign conquerors could only with the greatest difficulty have maintained a position against the Highlanders, who were always prepared to make sudden and dangerous attacks from the mountains in the interior. Aware of this, the Norwegians seem to have limited themselves, on the western shores of the Highlands, chiefly to the levying of provisions along the coast, and to the plundering of cattle and other property. Round about the mouths of the Highland firths are still to be seen the remains of old castles, which the Scotch kings, and particularly Alexander the Second, are said to have built, in order to prevent “the Danes” from making these devastating descents.

The memory of the conquests and predatory incursions of the Norwegians, or “Danes,” is still preserved in a remarkable degree among the poorer classes in Sutherland, as well as in the rest of the Scottish Highlands. Numberless traditions are in circulation respecting the levying of provisions by “the Danes;” and barrows, or cairns, are not unfrequently pointed out, in which a Scandinavian prince, or king’s son, killed by the natives whilst on some Viking expedition, is said to be buried. Besides the usual cruelties ascribed to the Danes in the traditions of the Lowlands, and of England, they are here accused, into the bargain, of having burnt the forests, and thus caused that want of wood which acts so injuriously on the climate of the Highlands. In proof of this it is adduced that roots and trunks of trees, sometimes perceptibly scorched, are discovered in the turf-bogs of the Highlands. It is not considered that similar discoveries are very common in other countries, as, for instance, in Denmark itself; where trunks of trees, especially firs, have been dug up, precisely as in the Scotch Highlands. They are the produce of vegetative processes in the pre-historical times; and the apparent scorching has been produced either by accidental fires, or more, probably, by the simple mode of felling trees in use among the aboriginal inhabitants of Europe; who, like certain savage tribes at the present day, for want of metal tools, were obliged to burn the trunks of trees which they wished to fell.

By way of amends, the Danes have now and then the honour of being regarded in the Highlands as having been the teachers of the natives. One of the first jarls of the Orkneys was, according to the legends, called by the name of Torf Einar, because he was the first who caused turf to be dug on a point of land (Torfnæs) in Scotland. This promontory, probably the present Tarbet Ness, was at all events either in Caithness or Sutherland; and it is certainly a remarkable coincidence, that the common people of that district still relate that “the Danes” taught them to burn turf. We likewise hear at times that “the Danes” taught the use of hand querns, or hand-mills; nay, even that the favourite national instrument of the Highlanders, the bagpipes, was originally introduced by the Danes. In short, if anything, whether good or bad, be of doubtful origin, it is frequently attributed to “the Danes.”

But it is peculiar to the north-western and most remote districts of the Highlands, that the common people still harbour no small degree of dread lest “the Danes” should return, and repeat their cruel devastations. About thirty years ago (according to J. Loch, “An Account of the Improvements on the Estate of the Marquis of Stafford,” London, 1820, 8vo.), English engineers were employed in measuring all the heights in Sutherland. This caused much sensation among the natives, who thought that these engineers were sent by the Danes to make maps and plans of the country, previously to the arrival of the Danish army. They imagined that the king of Denmark had an old feud with the Mackays, and that he was now coming to take a sanguinary revenge on the whole clan.

During my stay in Sutherland I had repeated occasion to convince myself not only that the fear of the Danes has not yet died away there, but also that tradition has connected with them things with which they had nothing whatever to do.

Close outside the town of Dornoch, on the east coast of Sutherland, there stands a stone pillar in an open field, which is simply the remains of one of those crosses so frequently erected, in Roman Catholic times, in market-places. As a matter of course, the arms of the jarls of Sutherland are carved on one side of the stone, and on the other are the arms of the town—a horse-shoe. Tradition, however, will have it that the pillar was erected in remembrance of a battle fought on this spot, in which the Jarl of Sutherland commanded against “the Danes.” In the heat of the battle, while the Jarl was engaged in personal combat with the Danish chief, his sword broke; but in this desperate situation he was lucky enough to lay hold of a horse-shoe that accidentally lay near him, with which he succeeded in killing his adversary. The horse-shoe is said to have been adopted in the arms of the town in remembrance of this feat. In the cathedral church of Dornoch is a carved stone monument of the middle ages, representing one of the ancient bishops who once resided in Dornoch. He also is said to have fallen in the same battle, but my authority, the person who showed me over the church, added:—“I am proud to tell that the Danes were defeated.”

Having employed myself in examining, among other things, the many so-called “Danish” or Pictish towers on the west and north-west coast of Sutherland, the common people were led to believe that the Danes wished to regain possession of the country, and with that view intended to rebuild the ruined castles on the coasts. The report spread very rapidly, and was soon magnified into the news that the Danish fleet was lying outside the sunken rocks near the shore, and that I was merely sent beforehand to survey the country round about; nay, that I was actually the Danish King’s son himself, and had secretly landed. This report, which preceded me very rapidly, had, among other effects, that of making the poorer classes avoid, with the greatest care, mentioning any traditions connected with defeats of the Danes, and especially with the killing of any Dane in the district, lest they should occasion a sanguinary vengeance when the Danish army landed. Their fears were carried so far that my guide was often stopped by the natives, who earnestly requested him in Gaelic not to lend a helping hand to the enemies of the country by showing them the way; nor would they let him go till he distinctly assured them that I was in possession of maps correctly indicating old castles in the district which he himself had not previously known. This, of course, did not contribute to allay their fears; and it is literally true, that in several of the Gaelic villages, particularly near the firths of Loch Inver and Kyle-Sku, we saw on our departure old folks wring their hands in despair at the thought of the terrible misfortunes which the Danes would now bring on their hitherto peaceful country.

SECTION IX.

The Hebrides.—The Northern Isles: Lewis and Harris; (Næs); Skye.—Ossian’s Songs.—Iona.

The rocky western coast of the Highlands south of Sutherland was not, as I before mentioned, permanently inhabited by the Norwegians. They had, indeed, regular settlements on the west coast, but these were on the islands. They were here secure from the sudden attacks of the Gaels, or Highlanders, who, generally speaking, would scarcely have ventured out on a sea which then swarmed with Vikings. The farther, therefore, the islands were from the mainland, so much the more secure would the Norwegian settlers be, and so much the greater, in effect, did their colonies become. By degrees they settled themselves on all the islands along the west coast, from Lewis to Man, which they called under one name, “Suðreyjar,” or the southern islands, from their situation with regard to the Orkneys and Shetland Isles. Sometimes, however, they did not reckon Man among them, and then divided the rest of the islands into two groups, in such a manner, that only the islands to the south of Mull were called “Suðreyar,” whilst Mull itself, and the islands to the north, obtained the name of “Norðreyar.” The Irish, and the rest of the Gaels, on the contrary, after the conquest of the islands by the Norwegians, called them “Inis Gâl” (the foreigners’ isles).

The most northern and largest of the northern isles was the extensive one which forms the present Lewis and Harris (the “Ljóðhus” of the Sagas). It is separated from Scotland by the broad, stormy, and troubled channel called the Minch. The southern part of it only, or Harris, where the mountains reach the height of between two and three thousand feet, can be called mountainous, for the rest of the island is rather flat, devoid of wood, and covered with heaths and moors. Some good arable land is, however, to be met with here and there along the coasts. Even in very early times this island was very densely inhabited by the Gaels, of which, among other things, some immense rows of stones, near Callernish, bear witness. In like manner, the Norwegians must, at a later date, have had considerable colonies in it. On this head we must not, of course, implicitly rely on the numerous traditions related by the common people about the landing of “the Danes,” their rising power, and subsequent overthrow. But, what is more certain, the names of not fewer than about ten large lakes in the island still retain the Norwegian termination _vat_ (“vatn,” Vand, water); and three of the largest are called Loch Langavat (the long water). Several coves (Vige) in Harris are called _vagh_ (“vagr”); as Groesavagh, Flodavagh; and in Lewis _wick_, as Sandwich (Sandvig; _Eng._, Sand-bay), and Norwich (Nordvig; _Eng._ North-bay). To these may be added a great number of Norwegian names of places ending in _stra_ or _sta_ (staðr, stead); as Little Scarristra, Meickle Scarristra (Harris); Erista, Mangersta (Lewis); in _bost_ (bolstaðr), as, in Harris, Nisibost, Hagabost, Chillibost; and in Lewis, Callbost, Habost, Luirbost, Crossbost, Melbost, Garrabost, and others (in all about thirteen). Further, we find such names as Laxay (Laxá, Laxaa; _Eng._, Salmon river), Laxdale, Nether Holm and Upper Holm, Tong (túnga), &c. These Norwegian names of places are met with as well towards the south and west as on the east coast, where they are most numerous about Loch Seaforth (Sæfjörðr), and in the vicinity of the little town of Stornoway. But they are chiefly concentrated at one point, the most northern in the island, in a district which still retains the pure Norwegian name of “Ness.”

On this Naze, or promontory, are the lakes Langavat and Steapavat; the valleys Dibidale, Eorodale, North Dell, and South Dell; the manors and towns Skegersta, Swainbost, Habost, Cross, and at the farthest extremity Oreby or Eoropie (“Eyribœr,” the town on the Eir or Naze?); with the adjacent headland of Raven, which may possibly have been called after Odin’s sacred bird. At all events, there is good ground for assuming, from these names of places, that the promontory had a pre-eminently Norwegian population, which, indeed, is unmistakably apparent even at the present day.

Throughout Harris and Lewis, for instance, the Gaelic inhabitants are small, dark-haired, and in general very ugly. But no sooner do we arrive at Ness, than we meet with people of an entirely different appearance. Both the men and women have in general lighter hair, taller figures, and far handsomer features. I visited several of their cabins, and found myself surrounded by physiognomies so Norwegian, that I could have fancied myself in Scandinavia itself, if the Gaelic language now spoken by the people, and their wretched dwellings, had not reminded me that I was in one of those poor districts in the north-west of Europe where the Gaels or Celts are still allowed a scanty existence. The houses, as in Shetland, and partly in Orkney, are built of turf and unhewn stones, with a wretched straw or heather roof, held together by ropes laid across the ridge of the house, and fastened with stones at the ends. The houses are so low, that one may often see the children lie playing on the side of the roof. The family and the cattle dwell in the same apartment, and the fire, burning freely on the floor, fills the house with a thick smoke, which slowly finds its way out of the hole in the roof. The sleeping-places are, as usual, holes in the side walls.

It is but a little while ago that the inhabitants of the Naze, who are said to have preserved faint traditions of their origin from Lochlin (called also in Ireland, Lochlan), or the North, regarded themselves as being of better descent than their neighbours the Gaels. The descendants of the Norwegians seldom or never contracted marriage with natives of a more southern part of the island, but formed among themselves a separate community, distinguished even by a peculiar costume, entirely different from the Highland Scotch dress. Although the inhabitants of Ness are now, for the most part, clothed like the rest of the people of Lewis, I was fortunate enough to see the dress of an old man of that district, which had been preserved as a curiosity. It was of thick coarse woollen stuff, of a brown colour, and consisted of a close-fitting jacket, sewn in one piece, with a pair of short trousers, reaching only a little below the knees. It was formerly customary with them not to cover the head at all. In a carefully compiled Scotch and English guide book (Anderson’s Guide, 1842) it is stated, that “The islanders of the northern part of Lewis, with their long, matted, and uncombed hair, which has never been restrained by hat or bonnet from flowing as freely in the wind as their ponies’ manes, and their true Norwegian cast of countenance, form living portraits of the ancient Norsemen. The other inhabitants are chiefly of Celtic origin.” The difference between the descendants of the Gaels and of the Norwegians is consequently so apparent that it is as striking to a Scotchman or an Englishman as to a Scandinavian.

It is said on the island that the inhabitants of Ness are more skilful fishermen and better sailors than the rest of the men of Lewis. However that may be, as a pretty numerous Norwegian population on it has long kept itself unmixed and distinct from the Gaels, it is not improbable that those men of Lewis who are related to have formerly harried Shetland, until they were entirely defeated in a great battle in Mainland, may have been inhabitants of Ness, who, after the custom of the ancient Norwegians, went on expeditions beyond sea, either to gain booty, or, more probably, to decide some old dispute by the sword. That men of Lewis, of Gaelic descent, who have never liked the sea, but, on the contrary, always feared it, should have ventured repeatedly, and in great numbers, so far as Shetland, altogether exceeds belief.

On the coasts of Lewis and Harris are several small islands, with still recognisable Norwegian names, such as Calvay (“Kálfey”), Pabbay (“Papey”), Skarpa (Skarpey), Scalpay (Skalpey), together with the places called Meathallybost, Bernera (Bjarnarey), and others. In the south-west there are three large islands in a row; North Uist, Benbecula, and South Uist (in the Sagas “Ivist”), where there are also evident traces of a Norwegian population. A small island to the west of North Uist is called Kirkibost (Kirkjubolstaðr); on Benbecula there are the lakes Loch Ollevate and Langavat, as well as the _Vaage_, or inlets, Uskevagh, Kenlerevagh, and Riavagh; and on South Uist there are likewise lakes and inlets called _vat_ and _vagh_; to which may be added such names of places as Frobast, Kirkidale, Hillisdale, and lastly, a mountain called Heckla, probably from the well-known volcanic mountain in Iceland. In a bay in the middle of South Uist are the islands Calvay and Pabbay. There is still a great number of small isles on the coasts of these islands, whose names in a greater or less degree all betray their Norwegian origin; for instance, Grimsa (“Grimsey”), Barra (“Barey”), Lingay (“Lyngey”), Hellesay (“Hellisey”), Eriskay (“Eiriksey”), and others. The Norwegians must even have visited the little island of St. Kilda, which lies about eighty miles west of Lewis; at least, two of the often-mentioned and peculiarly Scandinavian bowl-formed brooches have been discovered on the island; one of them I have seen in the Andersonian Museum, in Glasgow. Similar brooches were also found, with a skeleton, in the island of Sangay, between Harris and North Uist.

To the east of North and South Uist is the large island of Skye (“Skið”), separated from the Highland mainland by a narrow sound (“Skiðsund”). Between its more northern part and the mainland, where the sea is broader, are the islands of Rona, Raasay (“Hrauneyjar”), Scalpa (“Skálpey”), Pabba (“Papey”), and Longa (“Langey”). Skye, towards the south, is remarkable for its numerous and lofty mountains, whose beautiful forms are visible at a great distance. Towards the north the island becomes gradually flatter and broader. In the west and north-west parts it is indented by deep firths, round which are to be found the most fertile districts in the island. The east coast, on the contrary, is not so capable of cultivation, as it has large tracts of moorland heath and sand. The Norwegians, therefore, advisedly chose to settle on the western and north-western firths, which, besides being more fertile, were not so exposed to the attacks of the Gaels as the eastern and south-eastern coast, which very nearly approach the mainland. Not a few Scandinavian names of places may be still clearly recognised near Loch Snizort, such as Scuddeburgh, Skabost, Braebost, and, near a waterfall, Forscachregin (the Norwegian _Fors_ with a Gaelic termination). By Dungevan Loch are the inlets Kilmaluag and Altivaig, and the villages Husabost, Collbost, and Nisabost. By Loch Bracadale (the “Vestrifjorðr” of the Sagas) are Fors, Orbost, Collbost, and Eabost. By Loch Harporth, Carabost; and by Loch Eynort, Husedalebeg and Husedalemore; which latter, in a mixture of Norwegian and Gaelic, signify little and great Huusdal (Housedale); and, with a similar mixture, Ghionaforsenary. A little more inland is the valley of Tungadelebeg, where the Gaelic beg (little) is added to the Norwegian Tungadal.