Chapter II: Part 2

The reasons ascribed for the action of some are doubtless influenced by the reciter’s own beliefs. Thus, it was often said of a gentleman farmer in Rothiemurchus, well known in the countryside, that he would never praise any beast of his own, and this was supposed to be owing to his belief that he himself had an Evil Eye. It does not seem to have occurred to his neighbours that it was native modesty.

To show the hold that belief in an Evil Eye has on certain minds, a native of Ross-shire tells how he went to see a neighbour, who asked his assistance in putting a ring in the nose of a pig to prevent it rooting. “There was another neighbour of his there too, who had come forward when he saw us, one W. M., an intelligent man, and one that I would never have thought would give in to these superstitions; but he was a man that believed in the Evil Eye, although nobody suspected him of having it himself.” Accidentally the pig’s leg was broken. It was understood to belong to the wife of the man who proposed to ring it, who said:—

“Man, what will we say to the wife? But come away in and see what she has got to say.” When we went in the wife asked us if we had got the ring in the pig, and her man answered, “No, and I am sorry to tell you the pig has broken her leg.”

“How did that happen?” she asked, and her husband said, out of pure fun, “Oh, I don’t know, unless W. M.’s eye has fallen upon her.” That was enough. Up W. got in a wild rage, and said he would not sit under such a suspicion, and off he marched, terribly offended.

At the time of writing a reciter, a woman, admits that at K. in A. a man is living whom his neighbours believe to have the Evil Eye, and people not only do not like to meet him, but go out of their way to avoid him when going on important matters. It is told of him that a donkey belonging to a woman kicked his horse. The donkey’s owner expressed a hope that he would not come to know of it, lest he should hurt her beast. Her fear was justified, as it turned out, for the man saw the donkey kick the horse, and however he managed it, people believed that he put _cronachadh_ on the donkey, for it turned ill and shortly died.

ACTION OF EVIL EYE INDEPENDENT OF POSSESSOR

It must be difficult, one would think, for any reasonably kindly-intentioned person to accept as proved that they had an Evil Eye. But a distinction is made between possessing an Evil Eye and doing mischief with it. A native of Glen Urquhart, Inverness-shire, among others says that there it is understood a person may possess an Evil Eye and do mischief with it without intending it, and without knowing that he has done it. When a person knows that he has an Evil Eye, and does mischief with it intentionally, the ill-doing is usually supposed to be more or less connected with witchcraft.

Many believe the injury from the Evil Eye is quite independent of the will of the possessor. A farmer, a believer, said: “When we were in the old place more than thirty years ago, there was a man living upon the hill who would often be helping the farmers round about when they were throng. He had the Evil Eye; but he could not help it. He would be sorry for it himself; many a one would be scolding him for hurting their beasts.”

Another says: “_Cronachadh_ is still in it, and those that have got the Evil Eye cannot help it. They sometimes do harm with their eye when they do not intend it, and even when they do not know that they are doing it.”

This seems a thoroughly rooted idea in Islay, and a Tiree man informs us that there it is also thought that injury by an Evil Eye is involuntary on the part of the person who has such an eye, and not necessarily malicious or intended.

This is also met with as a belief in Arran, and a reciter there tells of a minister in the Parish of Kilmory who had the Evil Eye in spite of himself, and if he looked on his own cattle or horses they were sure to be ill after. Other cases are mentioned, and one of our reciters told how a man, while resident in the south of the island, and fond of fine cattle, in the place where he was well known and respected had never been suspected of the Evil Eye, but removing to the Whiting Bay district, where he was among strangers, suspicion of the Evil Eye attached to him and remained with him to the day of his death.

In these two last cases, in speculating upon the cause of the accusation, it seems quite probable that the minister, being occupied with his own special duties, rarely regarded the state of his beasts, and only took notice of them under exceptional circumstances, and coincidence had connected his inspection of them and their illnesses. The other evidently was an amateur with an eye to beauty in others’ cattle, and probably had unfortunately expressed approval before subsequent misfortune. One notorious incident was undoubtedly enough to set the report going, and all know the results of giving a lie half-an-hour’s start.

EVIL EYE TAKES EFFECT EVEN ON THINGS NOT SEEN

There is one simple way of keeping your property safe from the Evil Eye: viz., by not letting it be known that you have what may be affected. A certain D. MacF., who knew that his neighbour was crediting his Evil Eye with having spoiled a churning, was standing in the back-yard when the woman who suspected him was milking her cow. She, having finished, should have passed him with her milk to carry it in by the door, but on seeing him she started, and instead of coming forward, passed the pitcher of milk in by a little window on the back wall of the house, and then walked forward and went in at the door, passing MacF. He concluded that her object was to keep the milk out of his sight lest he should hurt it. MacF. disavows the possession of any power of the kind.

Another reciter mentions that a certain Calum Ban, having the name of the Evil Eye, others kept things out of his sight for fear that he might hurt them.

The mere preventing the eye resting on the thing to be affected would, however, have been quite insufficient, according to one reciter, a native of Bernera (Harris). She told of one, recognised as possessing an Evil Eye, that he was sure to covet everything in the possession of his neighbours, and consequently “those nearest R. were very unfortunate.” His influence was understood to extend beyond what he actually saw, and therefore even hearing about things was kept from him. On one occasion the young daughter of R.’s neighbour set eggs under two hens, and being considered “lucky,” having usually been successful, she expected two good broods. In the interval she mentioned what she had done in the hearing of R.’s daughter. When the time came not a single chicken appeared out of the two settings. Her mother then said she would put eggs below the hens, but warned all in the house to be sure and not tell that they were there. This was done, the hens being kept carefully concealed, and full and thriving broods were got.

An old man now dead, a crofter who could read, who was strongly superstitious, telling his stories with great gusto, and reliable, is the authority for the following, which shows how the superstitions of others were played on. In the time when ploughs were made of wood of a home manufacture, the farmer in Octofad brought home a new one. One day, using the new plough, coming round at the end of a furrow, the plough was broken in two. The man between the stilts and the man leading the horses threw the blame of the carelessness on one another. At last the latter proposed that if the ploughman would leave to him to tell the old man (the farmer) how it happened, and if he would not say a word at all in the matter, he believed that he would be able to put it past (_a chuir seachad_) right enough. The ploughman agreed. They took the horses home, and when the farmer made his appearance looking displeased (_coslas gu math crosda air_), the lad began his tale. “_De ach am beist duine sin tha ann C. aig am bheil an droch shuil. Thainig e an rathad far an robh sin a treabhadh, agus on a bhios a shuil aige anns gach ni a chi e, thoisich e air a bhi moladh nan each agus a chrann; agus cha robh e tiota air falbh, nuair a chaidh a’ chrann ann an da leth._” (“What but that beast of a man that is in C., who has the Evil Eye. He came the way where we were ploughing, and since he will have his eye in everything he sees, he began praising the horses and the plough, and he was no time gone when the plough went in two halves.”)

The lad’s forecast was correct. His master’s eye lost its gloom, and shaking his hand to them, he said: “Never mind, never mind; put in the horses, and do not say a word about it to anybody in case he may do more harm. If the horses are safe, we will not be long in dressing the plough.”

It is perfectly clear that an interesting instance of the influence of the Evil Eye was established here, so far as the farmer was concerned, and doubtless the belief in it generally owes not a little to equally fanciful stories.

MORAL SOURCE OF THE EVIL EYE

Though the action of the Evil Eye is accepted as involuntary, in the majority of cases, this is not the accepted doctrine in all districts. From Ross-shire (Strathpeffer) a reciter says:—

“It is a power which they are in some cases supposed to exercise involuntarily, but oftener intentionally and with mischievous design.”

From somewhat the same locality, Dores (near Inverness), a reciter “thinks that the involuntary kind that is often met with in certain other parts of the Highlands is not recognised, but in every case in which injury arises from an Evil Eye, it is to be referred to active covetousness and greed of gain at other people’s expense.” But even in Kintyre, where the involuntary action is accepted, a native tells us: “I believe in what people call the Evil Eye, and I have known very many who believed in it just as much as I do; not that every man has it, for there are only some that I would be afraid of. If I see a man that thinks highly of what belongs to himself, and would not exchange it with any man, that is the man I would like to have dealings with, for although he might do injury to himself, or to any living thing he might possess, he would do no harm to another. If I saw a man envying everything he saw, and thinking what belonged to other people was better than what belonged to himself, I would be afraid of that man, and if I had cattle I would not like him to come among them, for if he came I would be sure something would happen.”

A Mull woman said: “_Cronachadh_ is quite common. It is done usually by a person that has an Evil Eye. It is just an eye with great greed and envy.”

An Islay man says: “_Tha cronachadh ann. Se ‘n droch cridhe tha dol thun na sul, agus a’ deanadh droch suil._” (“_Cronachadh_ exists. It is the evil heart going to the eye and causing an Evil Eye.”) The suggestion thus is that an Evil Eye is but the result of the natural man who has not rooted out of his nature what is forbidden in the Tenth Commandment, and so a native of Ross-shire (Tarbat) shows how strong the belief was that mischief might come “through the Evil Eye or ill wish of another.” A certain aunt of his formed a strong dislike to him when he was a boy, simply because it was known that his grandfather favoured him to the disadvantage of this aunt, as she thought, and he well remembered how anxious his mother was for a long time, lest the aunt’s known ill-will should cause some blight to come on him.

The following from Islay shows that though the belief there that it is involuntary is strongly held, those who have the power may exercise it deliberately. “There was a woman in Islay who had a sow that had a litter of young pigs. One morning a neighbour came to her, and seeing the teapot at the fire, asked if she would give her a drop of the tea. This was given to her. She then said, ‘You have fine young pigs there.’ ‘Yes, but they are all sold,’ answered the other. With that the visitor turned towards the door to go, and said, ‘Well, you sold a pig to me that died.’ That was all that passed, and she went her way; but the following morning two of the pigs were dead, and the owner was quite certain that the woman had done the mischief. The reciter who gives the information is of the same opinion, and he adds that it was an unkind thing to do on a poor woman.”

The strength of the Evil Eye, according to some, is to be gauged by the following remark by an old man: “_B’abhaist gu’m biodh e air a radh le sean daoine, gun sgoilteadh an t-suil sanntach eadhon na creagan fein o cheile._” (“It used to be said by old people that the greedy eye would split asunder the very rocks.”)

Another says _cronachadh_ is just envy, and it is said that envy will break the very stones. A man who wishes to have everything for himself will do harm to whatever he sees.

THINGS THAT SPECIALLY ATTRACT

A woman of twenty-eight, whose information is quite reliable, the daughter of a respectable man in one of the inner islands, remembers when young people talked a great deal about these things, and many were very much afraid of them. “The idea was that it was always the best and prettiest of beast or body that was most liable to be injured by a bad eye. Her youngest brother was awfully pretty when a child. They used to have him dressed in a red frock and white pinny, and with his fair skin, fair curly hair, and red cheeks, he was the nicest-looking child in all the place. Many a time, when my father would take him out, the neighbours would be warning him to take good care lest some one might do the child harm, and some would advise my father to go in and take the frock and pinny off him, so that he might not draw one’s attention so much.”

From Ross-shire we hear the same thing. A native “remembers when he was young, people believed in the Evil Eye and were afraid of it.” It was supposed that pretty children were specially liable to be injured by it, and it was a common device with some mothers, in circumstances where there was any suspicion of danger, to take care that at least some article of the child’s dress would be at fault, either in respect of neatness or cleanness, or better still, to have one of the child’s stockings turned outside in when being worn. These were supposed to form a protection to the child against injury.

The reciter remembers quite well a woman who in her own person and house was the pink of neatness, but full of superstition, and he cannot remember ever having seen her children without something untidy about them. Always a stocking or something else wrong on, and this was done intentionally by their mother to keep away the Evil Eye.

A native of Bernera (Harris) testified: “When a person appears well dressed and good-looking, it is supposed that she is in danger of being affected by the Evil Eye. A recommendation in such a case is to wear some article of clothing with the wrong side out, as a preventative of harm.”

An old man of eighty-seven, uneducated, but full of information, somewhat difficult to understand from the loss of his teeth and the weakness of his voice, telling his experiences in the most pathetic manner, said: “_Bu nighean a’ cheud duine cloinne bha riomh agam, agus bha deigh mhor agam oirre. Ach de thachair, ach latha bha ‘n sin, bha i amach aig taobh an tighe, agus bha neach a’ dol seachad aig an robh droch shuil, agus chaidh an droch shuil anns an leanabh, agus bha i air a chronachadh. O’n am sin chaidh an creatur air a h-ais co mor gus aig a cheann mu dheireadh cha robh i air a cumail beo ach le beagan fion a bha air a chuir ann a beul le spain ti._” (“The first one of my family was a daughter. She was a pretty child, and I was very fond of her. But what happened but a day that was there, she was out at the side of the house and a person passed who had an Evil Eye, and the Evil Eye went into the child and she was injured. From that time the creature went back so much, until at last she was only kept alive by a little wine put into her mouth with a teaspoon.”)

“When people had occasion to go to farmer R.’s house, having children with them, they contrived to put some attractive article of clothing on the children, so that the gay clothes might divert his eye from the wearers and save them from injury.”

A native of Knockando (Elgin) says that there is an impression that the young, either of man or beast, are very liable to receive injury from an Evil Eye fastening upon them, if that should be the first eye that sees them after their birth. This belief makes people take great care often to secure that any one supposed to possess an Evil Eye will not be the first to see an infant immediately after birth, or any other young animal.

Using short texts separated from the context leads undoubtedly to misapprehensions on the part of the unlearned. In Isaiah xiii. 18, he says of the Medes, alluding to physical injury alone, “their eye shall not spare children.” That text has influenced not a few.

Without any suspicion of the owner of a beast having the Evil Eye himself, his desire to retain it is supposed to render it specially liable to the evil influence of any one possessed of the power. A Kinlochbervie man remembers well how very common, in his youth, was belief in the Evil Eye, and vividly recalls the terror his mother had when any unknown vagrant came the way, lest, being possessed of an Evil Eye, he might leave a blight on the house or anything belonging to it. She would give almost anything they might ask so as to get them away in a good mood.

STRANGERS SPECIALLY LIABLE TO BE ACCUSED OF THE POSSESSION OF THE EVIL
EYE

Acquaintances might be divided into two classes. The Evil Eyes and the Non-Evil Eyes. Precautions should be taken against the former, and with them it was safe to class strangers. The daughter of a tradesman, a clever, intelligent woman, a farmer’s wife, whose husband’s people and her own mother are very superstitious, having moved from one district to another, her new neighbours, not long after she had came to live beside them, lost a number of geese. The owners made a great “ado,” and the position they took up relative to our reciter, the suspected one, was: “_Faicibh fein an droch shuil tha aice. Cha deachaidh na geoidh air seachran riomh roimhe, ach ghabh iad fuath ‘nuair a’ dh’ amhairc ise orra._” (“See for yourself the Evil Eye she had; the geese never before wandered, but took fright when she looked at them.”)

The owners of these geese seem to have had a very lively faith in the Evil Eye. The collector having mentioned the experience to another neighbour, she said: “That’s not so bad as I got. I went to inquire for a friend if they would sell a goose. They said they would not sell, and there was no harm in that; but shortly after all the geese flew away, and if I did not catch it. They were in a fearful rage, blaming me for putting my Evil Eye in them. Another time their hens ceased laying, and they blamed my eye for that also.”

It is scarcely to be wondered at, the jealous ascription of the Evil Eye to strangers, though Highland publications speak largely of the noble characteristics of Highlanders at large, and the writer is the last man to deny them credit due. It must be confessed there is a large quantity of a ‘parochial’ feeling of jealousy in the Highlands generally. It is not necessary to go into the question whether this is or is not the modern aspect of previous district quarrels. Tramps trade upon this fear of strangers in other Gaelic places than the Scottish Highlands. A minister relates the following, which came under his own observation in Antrim. A tramp was passing a house, and he went and asked the housewife for a drink of milk. She said she had no milk, but the tramp was sure she had, but did not want to part with it. He said, “Oh, very well, I’ll take a drink of water, and let what will happen to the cows.” This was enough; she was sure that this was a challenge that he would have the milk in spite of her, so she repented and gave him as good a drink of milk as he could wish for, no doubt in this way escaping evil consequences.

PEOPLE SHOULD GIVE WHEN ASKED

The danger of refusing a request is great, not so much from the purely Christian-charity point of view, as from that of escaping the Evil Eye. A native of Knapdale, a believer, tells of a woman notorious in that neighbourhood. She went to a farmer for a barrel of potatoes, which he refused her. No more was said, but she had not long gone when the best horse he had fell down and could not rise. It was foaming at the mouth. A man skilled in counteracting the Evil Eye was consulted, and declared that the horse had been injured by it. Having been informed by the farmer that he had refused to give a barrel of potatoes to the woman, he said it was that that had done the harm. His advice was a little peculiar, not in that he recommended the sending the potatoes to the woman, but that they should be sent on the injured horse, with evidently a view to its cure. The potatoes were got into a bag, the bag lifted on the horse’s back, and away it went quite briskly, and they were delivered at the woman’s house, and thereafter the horse was quite well.

Drovers are not, of course, complete strangers in the districts in which they do business, but as a class they are looked on with some suspicion. Thus we are told, “Some drovers are possessed of the Evil Eye, and in consequence it is reckoned foolish not to sell any animals to them if they appear anxious to have them.” The reciter’s father had a good cow, and some drovers coming about wanted to buy her. His father refused to sell. The drovers persisted, but still met with a refusal. At last the drovers left, but shortly after the cow sickened, died, and nothing remained of her value to the owner but her skin.

A parallel case was mentioned as happening in Islay. “I remember it was a few days before the market a man came the way and wanted to buy a beast from A. McI. The drover was very anxious to get it, but they would not sell. The drover left, and before the sun went down that evening that beast was dead and buried. The reciter of this, a man of about fifty and a good workman, living by himself, is a piper, and possibly the addition of the beast’s hurried burial may be the result of a natural tendency to ‘blow,’ as they say. Anyhow, the piper said that it was believed that it was the drover’s eye that had killed the cow.”

Another reciter tells that a farmer in Islay had two good horses which some dealers wished to buy. The farmer would not sell either, and the following day one of them died. It was believed to be a case of Evil Eye.

The risk of refusing purchasers is not solely in the case of drovers. “Many are of opinion that it is risky for a person to refuse to sell any animal he may have to any one who shows a great desire to purchase it; some would sell at a sacrifice rather than run the risk. A native of Killean, Kintyre, tells of a fine cow his father had, and on which the family set a considerable value. A man who had known something about the cow came all the way from Campbeltown purposely to buy her, but the owner declined to sell her. “If he did, he hardly got any good of her thereafter, for in a short time she became unwell, and lingering for a time, died. The neighbours thought it was a real case of Evil Eye.”

From the mainland of Argyllshire a lady relates: “An uncle had a farm five miles from Oban. A neighbour on his way to attend a funeral, thinking her uncle might drive along with him, called. As he was passing the cow-fold the calves were being let out to their mothers, and one of the cows had a beautiful calf. The neighbour fixed his eyes on them and kept looking at and admiring them. He then asked her uncle if he would sell him the calf, but the proprietor refused, saying he did not intend to sell either cow or calf. That very week the calf was dead, and they never doubted but that it was the man’s Evil Eye that had killed it.”

A native of Applecross in Ross-shire told he had bought a fine horse, but before the purchase another man had been looking at it and been very anxious to have it, and praised it as a splendid beast. It was not long in the reciter’s possession until it had some complaint from which it died. The people—the reciter does not himself say he shares the feeling—believe that it was killed by the Evil Eye, for it had been known to everybody how anxious the disappointed man had been to get it, and how highly he had spoken of it.

SYMPTOMS IN ANIMALS ASCRIBED TO EFFECT OF EVIL EYE

One naturally asks what are the symptoms which, when present in animals, have given rise to the supposition that they were affected by the Evil Eye.

A woman gives the following account of what happened to her mother. She had been married very young, and was sitting by the fire suckling her first child with her breasts bare. The child had fallen asleep on her left arm. “My mother heard something behind her, and when she turned her head, there was a tall, grey-haired, ill-favoured-looking woman standing. My mother got up hurriedly, and having a great deal of milk, the milk spouted from her right breast into the fire. The _cailleach_ gave an unpleasant laugh and said, ‘The milk has gone along with the pee.’ My mother answered pleasantly enough, ‘Oh no, the milk and pee will be all right,’ and gave the _cailleach_ what she wanted. She was a Tiree _cailleach_, and they were all looked upon as being bad ones. The next time my mother was going to give her baby a drink she found she had not a drop of milk for him. The baby was crying, and when he would cry she would cry too, and what was to be done? This state of things lasted for a day, and my father then went for assistance from a person supposed to be skilled.”

The expression used by the Tiree woman was understood by the reciter to mean the milk that should have nourished the child was to turn into water in the mother’s system, and be so discharged.

Yawning has been ascribed to the effect of the Evil Eye.

An Islay man said: “_Bha piuthair aig an te nach maireann agus bha i cho boidheach ’sa chunnaic sibh riomh. Aon uair thainig boireannach a stigh agus thoiseach i air a chaileag a mholadh gu ro mhor. Well, cha robh a bhean sin ach gann air dol amach nur a thoiseach a chaileag air meunanaich, agus cha robh fad gus an robh i cho dona agus gun robh iad a saoilsinn gum bitheadh i air falbh._”

(“My late wife had a sister, and she was as pretty as ever you saw. Once a woman came in and commenced praising the girl excessively. Well, scarcely was that woman gone out of the house when the girl began to yawn, and it was not long till she was so bad that they thought that she would be away (die).”)

In the case of a child which was quite quiet and looking well, with the mother sitting nursing it, a neighbouring woman, who is not much liked in the place, came in. She sat a little while, and was no time away until the child began to cry. It cried long and bitterly, and its mother got into a fearful state, protesting of the other woman: “_Co fior’s tha mi beo, chronaich i mo phaisde_” (“As true as I am alive she injured my child”). It is interesting to note that in this case “a little white powder” prescribed by a qualified practitioner counteracted that Evil Eye.

Another case in which a child was ill was told as follows:—A woman went to inquire after a man who had just lost his wife in the Low Country, and brought their child home to his relations. She was told that the child was “not but poorly.” “What is the matter with him?” I asked. My informant answered me, that his mother had been sitting at the fire and the child in her bosom, when two women came to ask for the child’s father. The child was quite well and brisk when they came in, but before they went away he began to cry and groan. “He was quite sure,” he said, “that one or other of them had injured the child, but why they should do that he did not know, for they both had families of their own.” This case was cured by an unlicensed practitioner.

The following is from a woman of her own experience in the case of her own son. She told that his sister went out with him one day to a neighbour’s house. He was sitting in her lap, when the neighbour’s daughter called her mother’s attention to the white beauty of the child’s legs. The mother agreed, and something more was said praising the child, and he then got a drink of milk. Well, as soon as he took the milk, he began as if he were singing, “Do re do, do re do.” This he continued to do for a good while, and was very fretful. This child was cured by a magic thread which stopped the “humming.”

Cattle, in popular belief, are much more liable to damage from the Evil Eye than other animals, judging from the greater number of instances related of it in their case. “Two of M. McN.’s cattle died within a short time of each other, and all the old people of the place persisted in saying they were injured by some Evil Eye.” A reciter told of her mother, who had married the elder of two brothers occupying a farm in common, getting the credit of the Evil Eye because, shortly after her marriage, the cattle on the farm “began to die right away.”

In the following case motive is given, and if any overt act of a magical nature had been said to occur, it would certainly have to be classified as witchcraft, but seeing there is no such history, it is one of those cases in which the action of an Evil Eye was evidently not supposed to be involuntary. The heir to a tenant who had fallen into arrears, having paid what was owing, got possession from the superior. Meanwhile a woman had been living in the house. She was warned to leave, but paid no heed to the warning, and it became necessary to turn her out by force. She got shelter from a relative near by, while the new tenant went to live in the house from which she had been ejected. “But if he did, he soon suffered for it, for he was not long there until he had lost nine of his cattle by death, and he and every one else believed that they had been “_air an cronachadh_” by the woman from spite.

There are no symptoms recounted in these general losses.

More rarely than of cows, we hear of stirks being affected. This is rather an old story, and the authority for this is the reciter’s father, who told it of his own father. He was at market in Stratherrick, and refused to part, after considerable bargaining, with a stirk he had to a would-be buyer. “Before the market-day closed, down fell the stirk on the ground and nothing could make it get up.”

In a quite recent case, however, a stirk, said to be affected by the Evil Eye, “was very ill; its horns were quite cold, and it could not eat anything. The beast recovered.”

By far most commonly, evil from a “bad eye” comes to cows. A reciter tells of an instance that occurred to himself, where in a farm previously occupied, his mother had a particularly good cow. “One day my sister was in a neighbour’s house, and she was telling the woman about the lot of milk this cow had. The next day when my mother went out at the usual hour to milk the cow, she had scarcely begun when this woman passed close to where she was milking. Well, not a drop of milk could my mother get from that cow. The cow became suddenly unwell and fell to the ground. The skin came off her udder and not a bit of skin was on it after that. There was not the least doubt but that it was the other woman that had injured her.”

A native of Skye, in whose younger days the belief in the Evil Eye was very common there, and who remembers seeing “a general turn up” in the township in which she was brought up, caused by the alleged effect of one person’s Evil Eye upon the cattle of the neighbours, tells how her father had a fine Ayrshire cow. She was such a good milker that it was necessary to milk her three times every day. “All of a sudden her milk left her, and they never could account for it, except on the supposition of the action of an Evil Eye, and in fact were quite sure that this was the case.”

The reciter of the following says she remembers a Sutherlandshire minister telling it to her mother. He said that one time his cows were not giving the right milk. The milk was more like water than milk, and as for butter, not a bit could he get, no matter how well it might be churned. The minister here, on the advice of his housekeeper, resorted to witchcraft for a cure.

Another reciter says: “When my sister and myself were lumps of lasses we were down the road one day with a cow of my father’s. When we brought her home the milk was running from her, and she lay down on the floor and she wouldn’t rise. When they tried to put her up she would make as if she would climb up the wall.”

In fact, as another reciter in Rothiemurchus said: “It used to be a very common experience to have cows going off their milk, and sometimes dying from the effects of a person possessed of an Evil Eye looking upon them, and it is still believed that cases of this kind happen.”

A cow that was “kicking and would let nobody milk her,” being cured by one of the processes against the Evil Eye, the cure was understood to certify the diagnosis.

Mrs. McN. was milking her cow. A woman passing at the time remarked, looking at the cow the while, “That is a grand cow, and she gives a great deal of milk.” “Yes, she is a good cow,” replied the owner, and the woman having passed on there was no more about it, until a little while after the milking was done the cow lay down on the ground and began to roll in great pain. There never was any doubt but that it was a case of injury by the Evil Eye. The cow was cured by magic.

Another cow “grew to be unwell, and she was rolling herself upon the ground.” She was so unwell that the schoolmaster, who was a great friend of her owner’s, advised him to send for a man to flay her. She recovered.

Of course a recognised wizard may have the Evil Eye as much as a more innocent person. The reciter of this, a credulous man, no doubt, and uneducated, with the gift of the gab and a good deal of natural shrewdness, a distillery workman, is detailing his own experience. “The cows were all tied in the byre, and we were looking in the window and saw the _Buidseach ruadh_ (the red wizard) standing at the byre door. The door was in two halves, the upper half was open at the time, the lower closed, and he was leaning on it and gazing with all his might at one of the cows. The kitchen was at the end of the byre, and they always came straight down from the kitchen when they were going to milk. The women just came down then, and when they came to the cow that he had been looking at, not a drop of milk could they get. When they untied her to let her out she gave a loud bellow, and running up by the kitchen door made for the fire and tried to go up by the chain through the roof of the house. They had nothing for it but tie her up again, and for some days they did not get a drop of milk from her, and her skin became so loose on her it looked as if hardly sticking to her flesh at all. When the day for churning came they found the butter was gone also.”

A Kintyre man recites the following of an authority consulted for the cure of the Evil Eye. “Her cow, put out for the first time after calving, became wild and jumped against everything like to kill herself. There was nothing for it but just to put her back into the house. Everybody was sure the beast had been _air a cronachadh_ by some person’s Evil Eye, or bewitched by witchcraft. When the woman to whom the cow belonged came to know of it she came up, and going up to the cow, gave her a clap or two on the back, said something, and in a minute or two the cow was as quiet as she had ever been.”

A farmer of the name of M. had the farm of B., near Campbeltown. He had a favourite cow which he would not part with for anything. Some drovers wished to buy this cow, but M. refused, and though the drovers persisted, he would not part with her. They went to the cow and began to soothe and fondle her. When they left the cow began to go about in a circle, and could not be got out of that circle. At length the farmer was forced to kill her. This was told by an educated and reliable gentleman, without prejudice, so to say, to his belief or disbelief in the origin of the illness.

One is apt to smile at any one talking of an animal going up the chimney by the pot chain; frightened animals do curious things. The writer of this, having opened the window in the parlour widely, the door being shut to prevent it going into the house, was trying to drive out a strange cat. There was a lighted fire in the chimney, but the cat, without trying the window, went up the chimney. The fire being damped down and a dustpan put on the top of it, the cat returned to civilisation, and then disappeared through the window.

One other symptom comes from the Black Isle, Ross-shire. H. says that belief in the Evil Eye was very common in his native place, and has a good hold still on people’s minds. It was said to do injury to beasts, in many ways, among others that they could be blinded by it. His father had a striking case while living in the Parish of Redcastle. One of his cows died of what was considered a natural trouble, no Evil Eye influence being thought of. He had a quey grazing on the farm of a friend on the opposite side of the Beauly Firth, so he went for her and brought her home by Kessock Ferry, where some people examined her and admired her. She was a dun, and a fine-looking animal. Having reached home the quey was tied in the byre, apparently in good health. They however soon noticed that she had a habit of standing back in her stall to the full extent of the tether rope, and do what they would they could not get her to stand forward. A woman with knowledge of Evil Eye cases was consulted. After examining the beast in the byre by herself she told them the quey was blind, because some one’s eye had fallen on her. She recommended the following procedure to cure the animal and find out who had done the injury. She was to be let out and, no one going before her or trying to turn her, allowed to go where she liked. If this were done she said the quey would, of her own accord, go to the house of the person who had made her blind, and that she would go three times round the house bellowing, and then come back to her own byre quite well with recovered sight. This procedure was carried out. She went straight for a neighbour’s house, went round it three times, bellowed, and came back quite well and seeing. The reciter added, “Now the woman that could do that and find out things of that kind must have had some power herself, quite as much as the one whose eye had fallen upon the heifer.” The reciter of the above is an uneducated man, and superstitious in other ways.

A believer, a native of Knapdale, tells the following. For a considerable time none of her cows had quey calves, but at length she got one, a nice beast, of which she was particularly careful. When it was first let out she went herself to watch it. At that time she had a neighbour who had an ill-will to her, although they were on speaking terms, though without having much to do with each other. While she was watching the calf this neighbour came out of her own house, and putting her hands on each of her sides, stood and gazed for a few seconds at the calf. While she was staring at it the calf gave a ‘loup,’ rushed as if it were mad through the place, and when, with a deal of difficulty it had been caught and put into the byre, it kept leaping straight up, and seemed as if it could not rest. The person consulted said he could do nothing in the case, and that it was ill from the other woman looking at it. Subsequently she had two more quey calves of which she was very proud and pleased to have them, and as they were grazing in a park near the road, many people admired them. One day the same objectionable neighbour went, and placing her two arms on the dyke, stared at the calves for some time. “I saw her with my own eyes and did not like it, but said nothing.” Not long after her daughter came in and said that the white calf was lying dead among the nettles. “On hearing this I trembled, but spoke quite calmly and said, ‘Is it?’” On examination, sure enough the calf was dead, and the other was ill also. She consulted a skilled woman, and the remaining calf got better. This reciter added that since then she had lost beasts through the same person’s Evil Eye, and is in terror when she sees her coming about the house.

A woman who lived on Loch Awe-side, who was believed to have the Evil Eye, and whose father was also credited with it, was exchanging brood hens with a neighbour. She brought her own hen, and was going to take away the one to be exchanged. In the absence of the mistress, the girl who was keeping the house was going to give the cow a drink, and the woman accompanied her. There was nothing wrong with the cow then, but later in the day the cow’s calf died, and the cow herself began to take some kind of fits, and though she lived for a while never got well. When night came the hens were crowing, and next morning two of them were found dead. The hen that had been brought was put on the eggs, but if she was, it was not long that she remained on them. She took to the hills and was never caught, and all this was the consequence of the Evil Eye.

Even more common than injury to cows and calves is the deterioration of milk. Mrs. McL., appealing to her husband for confirmation, told how that in the winter-time she began to churn sometime after dark. Her husband helped her with it, and they had just finished, and she was going to stop and take off the butter, when a young man came in. When he went away she went back to her churn, but not a bit of butter could she get. To gather it she took another turn of churning, but the milk only swelled and went over the churn mouth. The butter was all gone. It was this young man’s Evil Eye.

Another nearly similar case to the above, and they could be considerably added to, happened to the mother of the reciter, who was churning, and a woman, supposed to possess an Evil Eye, and also suspected of a measure of witchcraft, coming in, “the butter got scattered into a kind of grainy substance, and do what she would the churner could not get it to gather again.”

Horses, of course, are liable to the malign influence of the Evil Eye. —— had a nice white horse which he used to lend on hire to the minister. It was much admired, and one day when it came home a neighbour, who bore the owner no goodwill, came forward and, standing beside the horse, said in Gaelic, “You have got fine limbs;” he then walked away. Shortly afterwards the horse threw itself down on the ground and kicked as if in great pain. It was at first supposed to be an attack of colic, and the son walked it out a little, but so soon as it entered the stable it fell down and was like to die. A woman with skill being consulted, cured the horse and confirmed their suspicion of it being a case of Evil Eye.

Ministers’ horses do not escape any more than those of laymen. A Mull woman related the following:—The minister, whose grave you may see there, had a fine horse. His man had it out ploughing, and without previous illness or warning of any kind, it fell down and could not plough another furrow. The minister came to see it.

“_A mhinistear, tha an t-each air a chronachadh. Feumaidh mi dhol airson eolas a chronachaidh._”

“_Eisd, eisd, cha dean thu sin. Tha fios agad nach eil mise a’ creidsinn ann a leithid sin._”

“_Direach falbhaidh sibhse a steach, agus managie mi fein an t-each._”

(“Minister, the horse is _air a cronachadh_, and I must go for _eolas a chronachaidh_.” “Hush, hush, you will not do that; you know that I do not believe the like of that.” “Just you go in, and I’ll manage the horse myself.”)

We may finish the incident which tells how the minister did as was suggested, and how, as soon as he was out of sight, off the lad set for what he considered skilled assistance. Having got it, in less than three hours the horse was quite well and ploughing. When the minister was again looking on, the lad remarked on the rapid recovery from the process used, but the minister was unconvinced.

“_Cha’n eil mi dol a thoirt creideas da leithid sin idir._”

_Thuirt an gille: “Well, tha mi fein ‘s an t-each a’ creidsinn ann.”_

(“I am not going to give credence to the like of that at all.” The lad replied: “Well, both I and the horse believe in it.”)

A like case. “You remember A. B. He had a braw mare; everybody was praising her, and there wasn’t the likes of her to be seen about the place. A man who was passing waited to look at her, and praised her for being a splendid beast. But if he did, when she reached home she fell down and would neither rise nor eat.”

Mrs. G. said: “One of our horses, a fine beast, was going past the barn when all at once it fell on the ground. They got it into the stable. In a little time it could not move its body, but was tossing its head from side to side and seemed to be in great pain. It was striking its head on the ground so much that we thought it would kill itself.”

A case in which the illness had lasted for some time before skilled advice was got, is the following: “D. D.’s father-in-law had a horse unwell and not expected to recover. It was lying in the stable quite stiff, and had neither eaten nor drunk anything for some days.”

A farmer who had two fine horses told the reciter to put the saddle on one of them and meet him on his way home from a visit he had to pay. D. McT., as instructed, saddled the better of the two horses and started to meet his father. He was very careful, leading the horse instead of riding it. He met his father within three miles of home driving in a cart with a neighbour. When they met, his father said, “You have killed that beast. Why did you ride it so hard?” D. told his father, what was the fact, that he had not ridden at all, but walked all the way from home. “Look at the horse,” said his father, and the horse was pouring of sweat and trembling. He turned home, but could not keep up with the cart, and only managed to make it crawl back with difficulty. As soon as it was got into the stall, it lay down and commenced kicking as if in great pain. The horse was cured.

A man of whom we have already spoken as injuring animals with his Evil Eye unintentionally, as a reciter tells us, “was at this time threshing with my father. They had no threshing-mill, and did it all with flails. One day my father had been out ploughing, and had the best mare ever they had in the plough. Coming home, he had to pass the barn to go to the stable, and McA., of the Evil Eye, came to the door and looked after the mare. That was enough; before the mare reached the stable door she began to shake and tremble, and it was with great difficulty they managed to get her into the stall. They knew quite well what was the matter.”