Part 11

A native of the north of Ireland, admitting the common belief in his own district in the Evil Eye, there called, as we have already stated, “blinked,” informs us that the services of the priests are in demand in such cases, and it is currently reported that priests do give bottles of fluid to be sprinkled on the animals affected, with what is believed to be satisfactory result. He added that there was a story told of a man damaging his cow by using another bottle containing vitriol instead of that given by the priest. If such a thing did happen it was the man’s fault, and in no way affects the question under discussion.

In reciting their incantations the practitioners also vary. The performance, as described by an eye-witness, in one case was that the woman consulted put something in a bottle, put the bottle to her mouth, spoke something into it, and then threw what was in the bottle over the cow to be cured. The result in this case was quite satisfactory, almost immediate.

In an Islay instance the woman consulted “went down to the little river that was below the houses. She had a wee dish with her, and she went on her knees and said some of the good words that she had while she was lifting the water. She took the water to where the mare was and said more of the words, and sprinkled the water over the mare.” The result in this case was that the mare got better, but was never so sound as she had been before, and once she got out of the stable she never could be either forced or coaxed to enter it again, do what they would, and the attempt was frequently made.

It seems possible that the account given by one reciter of the preparation of _uisge a chronachaidh_, in which he stated that the performer takes the water to be used into his or her mouth, and from the mouth puts it into a bottle to be sprinkled from the bottle upon the person or beast to be cured, may have been a conclusion formed from the incantation process being carried on over the mouth of the bottle.

The following account, however, by a Mull woman of her own experience shows that spitting into the healing water has actually been practised. The reciter’s aunt, suspecting that a cow which she had was suffering from _cronachadh_, sent her to the _eolas_ woman to tell her about the beast. She found the professor in bed ill, but after giving her message the woman sent her for water to be taken from under a bridge in the neighbourhood. The living and the dead pass over this bridge, and it was always from this place that healing water for _cronachadh_ was taken. While repeating the incantation she would now and again spit into the bottle, which she gave our reciter to take to her aunt. The water was sprinkled over the animal, which recovered.

Before considering water as a curative which had been in contact with other things than coin, the importance attached to silver will be made more clear by the belief put in practice that a silver coin in the pail at milking time will prevent any one taking the butter away by witchcraft. This was first noticed by a native of Ayrshire, and is practised in Islay also.

An Islay farmer and his wife being from home, the niece in charge during their absence found the churning had gone wrong. It was suggested to her to put a silver coin under the churn to counteract the action of any Evil Eye. What the result was in that case could not be found out; but recently a cow having calved, to prevent any ill effect from the Evil Eye, a silver coin was put in her first milk, which was given to the cow herself to swallow, as soon as drawn from her.

Throughout the country at large the water prepared upon coin is undoubtedly generally known as “silver water,” though we have shown that gold as well as copper—but gold more frequently—is associated with the silver. It is interesting to notice that in one account from Sutherlandshire the silver cure is described as being done with “a gold ring, and a silver coin put in a dish of water. The best dish is a wooden one with wooden hoops and no nails or iron of any kind about it.” The silver coin should be “a shilling for a man, but if it is for a woman a sixpence will do.”

From West Ross-shire, and from it alone, has information reached us of the use of the title “gold cure.” Our informant says, “I went to see a child that was unwell, and its mother told me that she believed that it had been hurt by the Evil Eye. She said she was going to try the ‘gold cure’ for it, but she had no gold of any description in the house, and she asked me if I had any about me that I could lend her for the purpose. I had none at the time, so I could not oblige her, but inquired of her how it was to be used. She said she would put it in a dish of water and wash the child with the water.”

STONES AND WATER

Above it was indicated that the water was put in contact with other things besides coins. In the case of the Mull woman already quoted, who had to use her butter from its unpleasant appearance for wool-greasing and such like, the _eolas_ man whom she consulted put things right by getting water “and some kind of stones from a particular burn which he put in the water. It was necessary,” said the reciter, “that the stones should be taken from a particular burn.” She was unable to state what were the peculiar conditions which made that burn essential. The collector, who got this information in speaking to another woman in Tobermory and who believed that _cronachadh_ was quite common, remembering the previous case, and hoping to draw information, suggested that certain stones were used for curing in Evil Eye cases. “Yes,” said the reciter, “but there is nothing so good as three pieces of silver, three silver coins of any kind. If the water is poured on three silver coins, and the words said over either beast or body, it will cure them.”

The following is a fairly circumstantial account from the parish of Clyne, Sutherlandshire, of the performance with stones and silver of a strong believer. She had a delicate daughter, and believed if people, especially strangers, looked at the girl she was sure to be ill after it, and often she would be so bad that she had to go to bed. The mother then tried the following cure, believed by many to be successful. She took a basin and put a silver coin into it, and went to a running stream near her house. From the bottom of the stream she chose seven small stones, which she put in the basin along with the coin, then dipping the basin in the stream so that the water ran into it on the top of the silver and the stones till slightly more than half full. She then went home, gave her daughter a little of the water to drink, and sprinkled a little of it on her. She kept the remainder beside her, and whenever there was any suspicion that an Evil Eye had again fallen upon her, the same process was carried out. Unfortunately the cure failed, the girl having died. It is more than probable that the weakly girl, imbued with her mother’s superstition, suffered when looked at by strangers, or when she thought she was regarded with curiosity; if she had merely been nervous she would probably have been cured.

A native of Jura told how, when living with her sister there, one of the children becoming unwell an _eolas_ woman was sent for, who got some stones, a darning needle, water, and other things, and with these did something to the child, but it did not recover. Our informant said they were strong in the belief that the child had been _air a cronachadh_.

Another account of the use of the darning needle comes from Ardrishaig. Our informant’s grandmother had a cow grazing at the roadside, and a woman, suspected of having an Evil Eye, passing, said, “_S mart bhriagh thu, ge bi leis thu_” (“You are a bonnie cow, to whomsoever you belong”). Shortly after the cow was found “lying rolled up in a lump.” “My grandmother went with a luggie for water and put a darning needle, silver, and copper into the water. She then poured some of the water down the cow’s throat, rubbed her horns with the water, and sprinkled the rest all over her. In a little the cow was all right.”

The same reciter mentioned another case, in which the operator was her mother. A calf became ill, and the owners were in doubts what to do with it. “My mother, remembering my grandfather’s cow, put spring water in a luggie (it must be spring water) and a silver and a copper coin and a darning needle. She forced some of the water down the calf’s throat, and sprinkled the rest over it. The calf recovered, and the farmer’s wife was so pleased and said to my mother, ‘Well, well, Mrs. S., I never saw the like of you, you can do anything.’”

No detailed description was given of the stones used, but as _clach-na-sùil_, the stone (apple) of the eye, is common Gaelic, they were doubtless of a sort more or less representative of eyes.

From Kintyre, the following information in the words of the reciter gives us some indication. “They used tae hae a bunch o’ sea-shore stanes wi’ holes in them hanging up at the door tae keep awa‘ witches.” The collector had seen such stones in a house in Kintyre, but at the time did not know their purpose. They were of the honeycombed sort that may be found on shores where there are quantities of shingle. There were six or seven tied on a string hung above the inside of the inner door; they were of different sizes, guessed at from fourteen to sixteen ounces in weight.

From the island of Lewis we have another indication. There, there is a considerable amount of superstition connected with what is called _a’ chlach nathrach_ (the serpent’s stone). The reciter, who had seen several of them, said they were usually round with one hole through them, though there may be two in some cases. The popular account of the information given was as follows: A number of serpents congregating at certain times form themselves into a knot and move round and round on the stone until a hole is worn. They then pass and repass after each other through the hole, leaving a coating of slime round the hole, which by-and-by becomes hard. It is this slime that gives to the stone the healing properties it is supposed to possess. The principal use of the stone was as a cure for the Evil Eye. Water is poured on the stone, and the person or beast affected is caused to drink the water, or has it sprinkled on them; sometimes the application is both external and internal. These stones are much prized by their possessors, who are very unwilling to part with them, and would not even willingly show them, or even acknowledge that they possessed them.

Stories of the knot of serpents being seen are still told. A very old man, a labourer, without English, and who can neither read nor write, gives the following account:—

“All the serpents in the country round about gather together to one place on one day every year, where they have a day’s play. The play consists in rolling in a lump on a stone and running through a hole on the stone one after another. One time Georsa Cailean’s wife (the wife of George, the son of Colin) was going home to her father, and when she was just beside a beautiful green spot near _Beinn Tartbheil_ (Islay), she noticed that it was covered with serpents as thick as they could lie on the top of one another. They had gathered there that year for their play. She got a fright and ran, but if she had gone among them she would have got the serpent’s stone.”

A strong endeavour was made to acquire one of these stones, said to have been found in a serpent’s den, but negotiations came to nothing, as the owners believing that it was good as a cure, especially for serpents’ bite, refused to part with it.

It is not necessary here to discuss St. Fillan, but it is a well-known fact that the three stones, supposed to have been in his possession and kept in the meal mill at Killin, were supposed to impart healing efficacy to water in which they were steeped, and which recently, at any rate, was given to diseased cattle as a curative.

The stones principally used then are stones with an eye or eyes in them—compare usual description of the hole in the top of a needle, the eye of the needle. The stones of St. Fillan seem the nearest symbolical equivalent we have to the protruded fingers of southern Europe, which again is nearly identical with the one-eyed Fachan—the _Direach glinn Eiti_ (Straight of the downy glen?) of I. F. Campbell,[13] and with which we may connect the protruded forefinger which was not to touch the yarn, mentioned on page 145.

[13] “West Highland Tales,” iv. 326.

IRON AND WATER

An Islay woman tells the following of her mother. “She was telling me how one time the butter went away from their milk, and for a good while they could not get a bit of butter. She was advised to go to that woman, and she went. When she told her that she could get no butter the woman took an iron and put it into the fire until it was red-hot; she then took it out and put it into a stoup of water, repeating some words at the same time. Some of this water was given to my mother to put into the churn, and would you believe it, the butter came back, and not only that, but with the very first churning there was a great quantity, equal to all that had been lost since things had gone wrong.”

The reciter was a woman of about five-and-thirty, now a small farmer’s wife, and well educated for her station.

The iron in this case was heated, but in another instance, in which a horse belonging to the reciter’s grandfather was supposed to be injured by the Evil Eye, the _eolas_ professor, a woman, having got water, dipped a bunch of keys into it and then hung the keys round the horse’s neck, and sprinkled the water over the animal, repeating words which the reciter could not catch. The horse got well.

That for the cold iron, and now for the heat. “_Nan tigeadh neach a steach gus an tigh againne ‘nuair a bhitheamaid a’ maistreadh dhe nach biodh m’athair ro chinnteach, ghabhadh e eibhleag as an teine agus chuireadh e ann an soitheach uisg’ e, agus ghleidheadh sin an toradh._” (“If a person of whom my father would not be quite sure would come into our house when we would be churning, he would take a live ember from the fire and put it in a dish of water, and that would preserve the produce.”)

As a mere suggestion, a guess for what it is worth, knowing that the old process of preparing hot water by immersing heated stones in it was practised by Highlanders, we here may have the ordinary method of scalding the churn and dishes, at one time common, become a superstitious formula.

The power of iron as protective against witchcraft, fairies, and all supernatural powers is too widespread to need special consideration. We must not however always conclude that when what is used as a means of cure is composed of iron that the iron is the principal matter. A reciter near Campbeltown gave the following information:—

“Mattie Lavarty used to be going about the country here makin’ _eolas_. I mind yince a coo belongin‘ tae yin Neil R. took ill before calfing, an’ they sent for Mattie Lavarty. She worked aboot the coo wi’ water, an’ said her paternoster or somethin’ else o’er’t an left a horseshoe in front o’t. But the next mornin’ whan Neil gaed intae the byre the calf was lyin’ deed in the greep (byre gutter). That pit Neil frae gaun near Mattie or the like o’ her ever after.”

Our business here is not with Mattie’s success or failure, but with the subject matter used in her attempted cure. The illness of the cow was probably a protracted labour, and Mattie put before it what was symbolical of a free passage for the expected calf. It was no mere placing of something for luck, but a use of the symbol of reproduction on an appropriate occasion.

WOOD AND WATER

The reciter in this case was a native of Tarbert, Kintyre. Believing his cow to be suffering from the Evil Eye, he sent for a practitioner of _eolas_. When she arrived, the first thing she did was to procure various kinds of wood and “different kinds of water.” She made circles with a stick, repeating “words” the while. This done, she requested the owner to go out of the byre, she remaining alone in it for a considerable time. She put the water in which the wood had been steeped on the cow. The animal recovered.

It seems reasonable to conclude that the _iubhar beinne_ (the juniper) would be one of the woods used, but no exact information was obtainable. (See page 119)

SALT AS CURE AND PREVENTATIVE

Salt is employed as a cure and preventative. The following experience of a Kintyre farmer’s wife, recited by herself, gives considerable detail of the process carried out. “I mind yin o’ oor ain coos was ill, an’ I sent for M. McC., that was a woman beside us that had _eolas_. As shune as she seen the coo she said M. McS. was here. That was a woman folk didna’ like, for they thocht she had a bad e’e. Says I: ‘Ay, she was here.’ ‘Weel, she did harm to the coo.’ She gied to the march burn and lifted water oot o’t in three pairts. The first she lifted in the name o’ the Father, the second in the name o’ the Son, and the third in the name o’ the Holy Ghost. Then she got salt and did the same wee hit. She pit the first taitie intae the bottle in the name o’ the Faither, the second in the name o’ the Son, and the third in the name o’ the Holy Ghost. She then gied tae a corner o’ the byre and prayed some prayer. When that was finished she pit the water in the coo’s ears and some on her back, an’ then said, ‘She has plenty noo.’ The coo shune got better. Peter, Paul, and Mary’s names war in the prayer. She offered to learn me that _eolas_, but I didna want tae learn’t.”

From an Islay reciter who saw the performance we have the operation described as follows. She (the professor) first went on her knees and repeated words, then put salt on a paper. This salt she measured with a thimble painted blue in the inside. She then put it into a cloth, poured water through it into a bottle, after which she repeated words over it and gave the bottle to the man who had come to consult her about the cow.

The salt seems sometimes to be used dry. We have mentioned George ——, described as a worthy man, who was consulted to cure a cow so ill that the schoolmaster had already advised its owner to send for a man to flay it. George required that it should be put in the byre, and it had to be pulled in by main force with a rope round its horns. This being accomplished, he told the boys that they might go now and he would do the rest himself. He then asked my mother if she had salt, and when she replied that she had, he ordered her to give him the full of her hand. She gave him that, and said if there was anything he would like to have one of the children would go for it. But he answered, “This will do my business.” He went back to the _bothan_ (byre), and he began to work the salt in the palm of his hand. After a good while he came out and said to my mother, “Your cow is dressed now, Flora.” They then went to take her out of the _bothan_, but still she would not walk, and they had to drag her out and leave her again on the green. With this my father was after coming back, and a man along with him, to take the skin off the cow. George advised her to let her alone, for she would be all right yet. The cow recovered.

The use of urine as a preventative has been considered already. The following from an intelligent woman of about fifty, a farmer’s wife in Kintyre, a well-read woman who takes an interest in things which she admittedly does not believe in, tells that when she was young, in one farm in Kintyre where she was in service, her mistress was regularly in the habit of sprinkling urine (house slops) on every cow after calving, and before she was allowed to go out, the intention being to protect the cow from the effects of the Evil Eye.

In another farm, however, in Kintyre, at the same time and for the same purpose, salt was sprinkled on every cow’s back as soon as she had calved. It was an encouraging sign if the cow licked off the salt, which was specially sprinkled on either side of the rump.

It seems quite fair here to consider the salt as a more civilised representative of the other fluid, though in fact the latter is of considerable value as a cleanser under certain circumstances.

Another native of Kintyre informs us that it was a common custom at farms when the cattle were being put out on the 1st of May for the mistress to stand and throw a handful of salt on each as they passed out of the byre. She saw this done in a farm in the parish of Campbeltown, and was well aware of it being a common practice. It was avowedly done against _cronachadh_.

The writer having no skill in churning, has no knowledge what result would come from putting of salt in the churn, but an Arran woman is responsible for the statement that she had herself often seen salt put into a churn as a protection against any evil influence.

A careful observer in Islay tells how that at one time their butter having left them and they had got none for some weeks, they sent for a woman, a professor in the neighbourhood. When she came they had a churning ready to commence with, but on examining it she advised that it should be thrown to the pigs, and added that they must clean and scrub well all the dishes used for gathering the milk, and that she would return on the next day they were ready for a churning. That day having come, the _eolas_ woman returned, and the first thing she did was to sprinkle a little salt on the bottom of the empty churn. The milk was then poured in and the churning commenced, with unexpectedly satisfactory results. The practitioner here was an _eolas_ woman of a very good sort, and set about her operations in a manner well calculated to be successful. On the farm, however, they regarded that butter with suspicion and sold it.

To judge from what we are told in the following as having occurred in the north of Ireland, so strong is the action of salt that it will put matters right with a bad churning, even though it neither touch cream nor churn. Failing one day to get their butter properly, the reciter’s master sent for an old woman in the immediate neighbourhood. When she came she just glanced at the churn, and seeing at once what was wrong, she said to the farmer, “If you like I will show you the one who has done the harm.” He assured her that he did not wish that, but would be pleased if she could do anything with the churning. Without more ado, so far as W. could see, she took a handful of salt, which she threw into a pot boiling on the fire. She then gave a turn or two at the churn, and sure enough the butter came all right.

We have already mentioned the use of salt in connection with sugar as put in milk given to a woman suspected of influencing her source of supply, and from which the dairymaid took the first mouthful as a sure preventative of evil, not only for the quantity immediately given, but also for any that would be supplied subsequently during the season.

One other instance of the use of salt we give on the authority of an Arran man of about sixty-five years of age, a shrewd business man, but of whom the collector says that to judge from appearances he thinks his knowledge of the island and his family connection with it extends about as far back as the origin of the island itself.