Chapter VI: The Celtic Year (2)

The proper day for keeping this festival, the anniversary of our Lord’s resurrection, was at one time the cause of bitter controversies in the Christian world. It was first a subject of keen dispute between the Eastern and Western Churches, and again between the Church of Rome and the Irish and British Churches. The feast is moveable, and depends on the time of the first full moon after the vernal equinox. Owing to rectifications of the calendar introduced at Rome, but unknown to the British Churches, two different days had come to be observed, and by the seventh century the discussion as to which day was the correct one had become so warm and the difference so scandalous that the civil powers interfered and the question was settled in favour of the Church of Rome by Oswy, King of Northumbria, at Whitby in 664. The Celtic clergy were accused of being Quartodecimans (a very good word in a controversy), that is, of keeping the festival, according to the Jewish mode of calculation, on the fourteenth day of the month Nizan, whether that day fell on a Sunday or not. The accusation is now universally acknowledged to be ill-founded, but it is likely they followed the Alexandrian rule on the point, by which the Easter festival could not begin till the eighth of March, a rule which had been at one time observed by the Church of Rome itself. Neither the cycle followed during the controversy by the Celtic Church, nor that followed by the Romish Church, is that now prevailing, so that if one day was of more value than another for the festival, both parties were in the wrong.

The rule now observed in the Highlands is “seven short weeks from Shrovetide to Easter,” Shrovetide being “the first Tuesday of the New Moon in Spring,” or, Easter is “the first Sunday of the second wane of the moon in spring” (_chiad Di-dòmhnaich de ’n dara earra-dhubh san Earrach_).

The name “_Càsg_” is but the Gaelic form of the Hebrew _Pascha_. The change of P into C, K, or Q is well known in philology, and the most noticeable difference between the Welsh and Gaelic branches of the Celtic tongue is, that the latter has an aversion which the former has not to _p_ as an initial consonant, preferring _c_ instead. Lhuyd (_Arch. Brit._, p. 20) says, “It is very remarkable that there are scarce any words in the Irish (besides what are borrowed from the Latin or some other language) that begin with P, insomuch that in an ancient alphabetical vocabulary I have by me, that letter is omitted; and no less observable that a considerable number of those words whose initial letter it is in the British begin in that language with a K or (as they constantly write) C.” He then quotes as illustrations, W. _Pask_, Easter, Ir. _Kasg_; Corn. _Peneas_, Whitsuntide, Ir. _Kinkis_; W. _pen_, a head, Ir. _keann_, etc. He quotes from Vassius instances of a similar change in the interrogatives and relatives of the Greek Ionic dialect. A readily recognised instance is the change of the Greek ἱππος into the Latin _equus_.

On Càisg Sunday, the sun was believed in the Highlands of Scotland, as in Ireland, to dance soon after rising, and many respectable people are to be found who say they saw the phenomenon. The alternate glancing and darkening of the sun on a fitful spring morning was no doubt often so construed by those who stared too long at a brilliant object.

A liability to north wind has made “_Gaoth tuath na Càisg_” (the north wind of Easter) a proverbial expression. The most trying part of the spring is still to come, and it is an expression employed to moderate excessive joy, and to put people in mind that the cares of life are not all past yet, that there is “a long spring after Easter” (_Earrach fada ’n déigh Càisg_).

Another expression, reminding men that it is not too late to acquit themselves of their duties or hold rejoicings, is “a Feast can be kept after Easter” (_Gleidhear cuirm an déigh Càisg_).

Easter was a particular holiday with the young, and preparations were made for it long beforehand. Every egg that a boy could steal or lay his hands on unobserved, was hid by him in the thatch of an out-house, or in a hole in the ground, under a turf, or wherever else he thought his treasure would remain undiscovered. When the great day came, he and his companions, each with his collection of eggs, went away to some retired spot, at a distance from the houses, and beyond the probability of being disturbed by their seniors. Here they had a grand feast of pancakes, and enjoyed themselves uncontrolled. The eggs were deemed of no use unless they had been secreted or stolen, and this originated, perhaps, in a feeling that with honestly or openly got eggs the feast was not so entirely independent of the older people.

The reason why eggs were used at all is supposed to be from an egg being emblematic of the resurrection.

Two Sundays were held as Càisg. The second was distinguished only by a better feast than usual in the houses. The first Sunday was called “Big Easter” (_Càisg mhòr_), and the Sunday after it “Old Men’s Easter” (_Càisg nam bodach_), corresponding to the English Low Sunday.

ALL-FOOLS’ DAY

is variously known in the Highlands as “The Day of going on Fools’ errands” (_Latha na Gogaireachd_), “Cuckoo Day” (_Latha na Cuthaig_), and “The Day of Tricks” (_Latha nan Car_). Its observance is on the first of April, N.S., and this argues its very recent introduction into the Highlands. The tricks and practices of the day are the same as elsewhere, the sending of acquaintances on sleeveless errands. Sometimes, but only rarely, there is some ingenuity displayed in taking advantage of local and passing events to throw the most suspicious off their guard, and send them on fools’ messages. It is not difficult to impose on men with a serious face and a plausible story, when it entails but little trouble to see if so likely a story or so pressing a message is real.

_Bailc na Bealltainn_.

The fourteen days preceding May-day were known as _Bailc na Bealltainn_, “the balk or ridge of Beltane.” The sea is then as it were awakening, and is more obedient to the winds. _Balc_ means a ridge, also swelling, strength, _onfhadh_, _foghail_. The weather threatens frequently without breaking.

“If warm May day be swollen [threatening],
And it be dry the third day,
And it be an east wind after that,
There certainly will be fruit on trees.”[69]

_Bealltainn_, MAY-DAY.

The advent of summer is everywhere hailed with joy, and the day recognised as the first of the season is naturally one of the most important days in the calendar. Another day of equal importance in the Celtic year was the first of winter, and the names of the two days, _Bealltainn_ and _Samhainn_, cannot be traced, like so many other notations of the year, to ecclesiastical sources. Like the names _Faoilleach_ (the Storm month), and _Iuchar_ (the Hot month), they are best referred to Pagan times.

_Bealltainn_ is commonly derived from _Bel teine_, the fire of Baal or Belus, and is considered as sure evidence of the Phoenician origin of the sacred institutions of the Celts. It is a derivation, however, that wants all the elements of probability. There is a want of evidence that the Phoenician Baal, or any deity resembling him, was ever worshipped by the Celts, or that the fires kindled and observances practised on this day had any connection with the attributes ascribed to him; while the analogies of the Gaelic language prevent the supposition that “the fire of Baal” could be rendered “Beall-tein’.” Besides, the word is not _Beall-teine_, but _Bealltainn_, a difference in the final syllable sufficiently noticeable to a Gaelic ear. It is the difference between the single and double sound of _n_. Baal and Ashtoreth were the supreme male and female divinities of the Phoenician and Canaanitish nations, and are supposed to be personifications of the generative and receptive powers of nature, and to be identical with the sun and moon. In Hebrew and kindred languages, _Baal_ is a mere title of honour, signifying “Lord or Possessor of,” and in Gaelic the Sun and Moon are both feminine nouns, merely descriptive of the appearance of these planets. There is nothing that indicates their ever having been looked on as divinities, or ascribing to them any attribute such as belonged to Baal. In Gaelic the noun limited or possessed always precedes the qualifying noun, and it would require strong evidence to show that “Baal’s fire” could be “Beltane” _i.e._ Baal-fire, and not “Tane-Bel” (_Teine-Bhàil_), _i.e._ fire of Baal. The contrast between English and Gaelic in this respect is often very striking, and a safe rule in etymology!

The final syllable is the same as in _Samhainn_, the end of summer, which is thought by Lhuyd, to be from _fuinn_ (connected with the Latin _finis_), an end. In this case _t_ is simply accresive. _L_ has an attraction for _t_ after it, as _m_ has for _b_, and _n_ for _d_. _Beall_ is likely connected with the other words that have _bl_ in their initial syllable, with a root idea of separating, parting, opening; and claims kindred with _blàth_, a blossom, _bial_, the mouth, _bealach_, a pass, more than with the title of a Semitic deity. It is the opening day of the year, when the rigours of winter are parted with, and the seasons, as it were, separate. Behind lay winter, cold, and unfruitfulness of the earth, but before was warmth and fertility and beauty. The final syllable has no more to do with fire than it has in _gamhainn_, a stirk, _calltainn_, a hazel tree.

It was said, with truth, that whatever day New Year day fell upon, Beltane fell on the day following. “New Year’s day to-day, Beltane to-morrow” (_Nollaig an diugh, Bealltainn a màireach_).

There is sometimes very cold weather at this time, and this was denoted by the expression “The mournful linnet of Beltane” (_Glaisein cumhach na Bealltainn_). Snow at the time was known as “Snow about the mouth of May-day” (_Sneachda mu bhial na Bealltainn_).

On the night preceding it, _i.e._ Beltane eve, witches were awake, and went about as hares, to take their produce (_toradh_), milk, butter, and cheese, from the cows. People who believed in their existence were as earnest to counteract their machinations. Tar was put behind the ears of the cattle, and at the root of the tail; the animals were sprinkled with urine to keep them from fighting; the house was hung with rowan-tree, etc., etc. By having a churning past and a cheese made (_muidhe ’s mulchag_) before sunrise, the Fairies were kept away from the farm for the rest of the year. If any came to ask for rennet (_deasgainn_), it should not on any account be given to them. It would be used for taking the substance out of the giver’s own dairy produce.

When the day arrived, it was necessary, whatever the state of the weather, though people sank ankle deep in snow, or (as the Gaelic idiom has it), though snow came over the shoes, to get the cattle away to the summer pastures among the hills (_àiridh_).

No fire on this, or any other first day of a quarter of the year (_latha ceann raidhe_), was given out of the house. It gave the borrower the power of taking the milk from the lender’s cows.

People had a feast in their houses with better food than ordinary. The arrival of the cuckoo was looked for, and boys shouted “Cuckoo! cried the ‘gowk’ on yellow Beltane day” (_Gug-ùg ars’ a Chuthag latha buidhe Bealltainn_).

In the Statistical Account of Scotland, 1794, XI. 620, there is a custom described, as existing at Callander in Perthshire, of boys going on this day to the moors, and kneading a cake of oatmeal, one part of which was daubed black. The bread was then put in a bonnet, from which each drew a piece. The boy, to whose share the black piece falls, is obliged to leap three times through the flames, at which the repast was prepared. The minister of Logierait (V. 84), says the festivities of the day were chiefly observed by herdsmen, and Pennant (_Tour_, p. 90), describes a similar feast of herdsmen, in which pieces of the cake were offered to the fox, hoodie-crow, eagle, etc., with a request that they would avoid the cattle during the year. In the south of Ireland, we are told (_vide_ Brand on May-day customs), cows were made to leap over lighted straw. All this has been referred to Baal and human sacrifices, and the going through the fire and other observances, have been assumed to be the remains of Syrian rites. They seem to be nothing but parts of the numerous superstitious observances for the _saining_ of cattle.

A _Sop seilbhe_, or “Possession Wisp,” was burned on land, of which possession was to be taken at Whitsunday. The wisp was of fodder or heather. The burning of it on the land, as already explained, insured possession (_bha e ceangailte aige tuille_).

_Céitein_, MONTH OF MAY.

This is the month of which Beltane day, O.S., forms the centre, and consists of the last fourteen days of spring, and the first fourteen days of summer. Its derivation is from _ceud_, first, it being the beginning of the summer season. It is identical with the present month of May. “Better is snow in May, than to be without rain” (_’S fhearr sneachda sa Céitein na bhi gun uisge_).

The month preceding Beltane was called _Céitein na h-òinsich_, “the May-days of the silly one,” the word _òinseach_ denoting both a silly woman and a cuckoo. The habits of the bird, which has no nest of its own, and goes about all day aimlessly uttering its peculiar note, has earned for it the reputation of being silly, as is witnessed also by the Scotch word _gowk_, and premature glimpses of fine weather are supposed to mislead it as to the advent of May.

WHISTLING WEEK.

_Seachdain na feadaireachd_, the whistling week, is the first week of summer, and the name is in allusion to the loud, whistling winds, that are apt to occur at the time. It is unlucky during it to proceed with field operations.

_Màigh_, MAY.

The name _Màigh_, for the first month of summer, is quite common in the Highlands, and is to be found in songs and proverbs. This is mentioned as shewing incontestably that Roman (or rather ecclesiastical) notations of time were adopted into the ancient Celtic calendar.

THE AVOIDING DAY OF THE YEAR.

(_Latha seachnach na Bliadhna._)

This is the third day of summer, and its name is almost the only part of the beliefs concerning it, that now survives. The writer searched far and wide for an explanation of the name, and only once heard one that was satisfactory. It was on this day that the fallen angels were expelled from Paradise, and on it people should avoid doing any kind of evil. If caught in the act, they will be similarly expelled from the regions of forgiveness, and be visited with “judgement without mercy.” If it falls on a Friday, it is unlucky to go on a journey.

Pennant says about it, “The fourteenth May is unlucky, and the day on which it falls.”

_Caingis_, WHITSUNTIDE, PENTECOST.

This and Martinmas are the two principal term days in Scotland, at which half-yearly servants enter on their duties, and at which removals take place. At Whitsunday term (old style) especially, the 25th of May, the towns of Scotland present an animated appearance from the number of removals, or changes of residences. The streets are crowded with household goods being removed from one house to another. Tenants at will are removed and leases expire at this term.

In Lorn, and the districts to the south of it, along by Lochfyneside, the term is called _Feill Breunain_. St. Brendan the Elder, from whom the name is derived, was abbot of Clonfest in Ireland A.D. 578. His day is May 16-28. Kilbrandon parish (in Gaelic _Sgìreachd a Chuain_, the parish of the ocean) in the west of Argyllshire, derives its name from him, and there is a farm in the island of Mull of the same name. History records that the saint with 14 companions once made a voyage in search of Paradise, and in stormy weather, when the sea is rough and the sky inclement, and the earth is hid with driving showers [it excites a smile], that he came north in the hope of finding it. There are days indeed in summer in the Hebrides, when a glory covers the sea and sky and the hills “that encircle the sea,” when he might think that he was on the way.[70]

In Sutherlandshire, people reckon by the _Feill Chelzie_, a market held on Tuesday of the term, deriving its name from a wool manufactory, now discontinued, called _New Kelso_, near Loch Carron.

The names _Caingis_, Whitsuntide, and Pentecost, are modifications of one and the same word. Pentecost became _pencas_ in Cornish, in Gaelic (which represents _p_ of the Welsh dialects by _c_) _caingis_ (Kinkis), as _pascha_ became W. _pâsk_, Gael. _Càisg_ (Kasg). The Gaelic _c_ or _k_ sound is represented in the Saxon tongue by _wh_. Thus we have _cuibhle_ (cuile), wheel; _cuip_, whip; _ciod_, what?; _cuilein_, whelp; _co_, who?; _cuist_, wheesht! be quiet!; _caoin_, whine; etc. So _cencas_ has become _Whitsun_. The feast has no name in the languages of Western Europe, but such as are derivations of the Greek word. The English name has been thought to be an exception, and to be, therefore, of modern origin. From the light thrown upon it by the Celtic languages, we infer that it is of the same origin as the rest.

_Caingis_ is reckoned to be “at the end of a fortnight of summer.”

_Feill-Sheathain_, ST. JOHN’S OR MID-SUMMER’S EVE, 24TH JUNE-6TH JULY.

On this day, the cuckoo was said to enter its winter house (_theid a chuthag na tigh geamhraidh_). It is not natural for its song to be heard after this. The bird may be seen, but it is not heard. It is, like the landrail, stonechat, or other birds that disappear in winter, one of the seven sleepers, who were believed to pass the winter underground.

_Seathan_, Swithin, is the old form of the name John, the common form being _Iain_, _Eòin_, and in Islay _Eathin_. It still survives in the name of the Clan Maclean, Mac-ill’-sheathain, also written MacGhilleòin. A former minister of Kilmore in Mull is still remembered as _Maighsthir Seathain_, and an exceedingly plaintive song, composed to her husband, who had been betrayed and executed for piracy, by his widow, begins “Swithin is to-night a dead one.”

“Tha Seathan nochd na mharbhan,”

the names being those now denoted by John.

_Mios crochadh nan Con_, DOG-DAYS.

(Lit. month for hanging dogs.)

This is but a boyish and sportive name given to the month preceding _Lùnasdal_, or first of August, the time of greatest scarcity with the poor. The stores of last harvest are exhausted, and the new supplies are not yet come in. If there is a scarcity of food for the dogs, it is recommended as the best thing that can be done, to hang them. Besides, the excessive heat makes it advisable to get rid of all superfluous dogs.

_Latha Martainn Builg_, TRANSLATION OF MARTIN.

(Lit. Martin of the Bag’s Day.)

July 4-16 received its title of the Translation of Martin from being the day on which the remains of St. Martin, Bishop of Tours, 397, “the apostle of the Gauls” (who also gives his name to the Martinmas term) were transferred to the Cathedral of Tours. In Scotland the day is called St. Martin of Bullions Day, and it was a proverb that if the deer rise dry and lie down dry on it, that is if the morning and evening be dry, it will be a dry season till harvest; and it was a general belief over Europe that rain on this day betokened wet weather for the next twenty days.

The Day of St. Martin of the Bag is commonly translated St. Swithin’s day, which is the 15th. St. Swithin was Bishop of Winchester, and no name of an English Bishop is found in the Gaelic calendar.

_Lùnasdal_, LAMMAS, AUGUST 1-12TH.

This, being a quarter day, formed a great day with old women for saining cattle, and performing those ceremonies by which evil was to be kept away from them for the next three months. Tar was put on their tails and ears, charms (_òradh_) were said at their udders, red and blue threads were put on their tails, and various observances were gone through with balls of hair (_rolag_), plants, fire about the earthenware pipkins (_crogain_) in which milk or butter was to be put, etc. Curds and butter were specially prepared for a great feast held this day, at which it was highly important that everyone got as much as he cared for.

On Lammas day, the gad-fly “loses one of its eyes” (_Latha Lùnasdal caillidh chreithleag an leth shùil_). The creature is not so vicious after this date.

_Lùnasdal_ is not a word of Gaelic origin, at least no satisfactory Gaelic etymology can be given for it. It is perhaps a contraction of the Latin, _luna augustalis_, the August moon. The Roman month was lunar, and was reckoned from the first appearance of the moon’s slender crescent in the sky. The moon in the harvest months is of more consequence to the husbandman than at any other season, and has always been taken notice of for its splendour. The temperature of the night air has much to do with this. The Gaelic bears its own testimony to it, in giving distinctive names to the autumn moon.

The corresponding English name, Lammas, had very likely the same origin, and it is a contraction of _Lunamas_. The derivation of it from Lamb-mas is an “affectation of punning,” and that suggested by Gen. Vallancey from La-ith-mas, “a day of eating fruit,” is extremely fanciful. The omission of _n_ in the middle of a word, for the sake of brevity or from inadvertence, frequently occurs. So _g_ has been elided in _Lùnasdal_. Augustus, which was adopted as the name of the sixth month B.C. 6, became _east_ in Cornish and _eost_ in Armoric.

_Iuchar_, THE HOT MONTH (_i.e._ AUGUST).

The _Iuchar_ consists of 14 days of summer and 14 days of autumn, and Lammas Day, O.S., being the first of autumn, corresponds to the present month of August. It is regarded, in point of weather, as the opposite of _Faoilleach_, the “storm month” of February.

The name is derived from an obsolete verb _fiuchadh_ to be hot. Lhuyd (_Archæolog. Brit._) renders _fiuchaeh_, boiling, and _fiuchadh_, a spring, _scatebra_. In another place he gives _fiuchadh_ as an equivalent of the Latin _æstus_. In some districts of the north, the name of the season is still called _Fiuchar_. Linlithgow, celebrated for its wells, is known in the Highlands as _Gleann Iuch_, and the Linlithgow measures are called _tomhaís Ghlinn Iuch_. The dropping of _f_ initial, as in the case of the Greek digamma, is too common to need illustration.

_Fèill Moire_, ASSUMPTION DAY.

This is the middle day of autumn (_latha meadhon an fhogharaidh_), August 15-27. It was counted a greater day than St. Mary’s Day (_Féill Moire_) in spring, and was called “the Big St. Mary’s Day.” Harvest operations were now vigorously pushed forward, and hence the saying, “Big St Mary’s Feast in harvest, sheaf and binding and men with their coats off” (_an Fhéill Mhoire mòr a’s t-fhogharadh sguab ’us ceangal ’s daoin’ as an léintean_).

_Féill Ròid_, ROODMAS, SEPTEMBER 14-26.

This day is the first of the rutting season among deer, and it was held that if the night before it (_oidhche na Féill Ròid_), be wet, or (as it was expressed), “if the deer took his head wet into the rutting season” (_ma bheir e cheann fliuch san dàmhair_), there will be a month after it of dry weather, and the farmer need be under no apprehension as to securing his crops. The belling of red deer among the hills on this night is magnificent.

The night succeeding Roodmas was called “the night of the nut,” “the night of the Holy Nut” (_oidhche na cnò, na cnò Naomh_), a name, the reason of which is doubtful. Some say it arises from this night dividing harvest in unequal halves, as the kernel is divided in the nut. Brand (i. 353) mentions a custom of going a nutting upon Rood Day, and it seems to have been a popular belief that on this day the devil goes a nutting. This does not explain why the nut is called the Holy Nut.

The Holy Rood is the same as the Cross.

MICHAELMAS (_Feill Mìcheil_)

is also known in the Roman Catholic districts of the Highlands, as “the Riding Day” (_latha na marcachd_). On the level green of Borg (_machaire Bhorg_), in Barra, a great race is held, the women bringing the horses, and sitting behind the men on horseback. In the scamper that ensues, it is a lucky sign if the woman tumbles off. All the expenses of the festivity are borne by the women, each of whom takes with her to the racecourse a large thick bannock of oatmeal, made with treacle, butter, etc.

_Samhain_, HALLOWMAS,

is the first day of winter, and is also known as All-Saints’ Day (_Latha nan uile Naomh_), Nov. 1-13. It was a sign of a bad winter if it fell upon a Wednesday, according to the saying: “When Hallowmas is on Wednesday, it is afflictive after it” (_Nuair is Di-ciadaìn an t-samhainn is iargaineach na déigh_).

The coming of winter was hailed with more fun and merriment than any other season of the year. The cold was now fairly set in, the fruits of the summer, down to the very nuts, were gathered, and the young became desirous of learning their fate with regard to that subject of anxiety in every age, their future husbands and wives. This natural welcoming of winter explains the ceremonies of the day, and the games of the evening. Hardly any of them have reference to the practices or deities of the nations of antiquity or to Scripture, and this explanation must be sought for in Pagan times.

On the last day of autumn children gathered ferns, tar-barrels, the long thin stalks called _gàinisg_, and everything suitable for a bonfire. These were placed in a heap on some eminence near the house, and in the evening set fire to. The fires were called _Samhnagan_. There was one for each house, and it was an object of ambition who should have the biggest. Whole districts were brilliant with bonfires, and their glare across a Highland loch, and from many eminences, formed an exceedingly picturesque scene. Some find in them traces of the worship of the invariable Baal, but there is no reason to look upon them otherwise than as the natural and defiant welcome of the season, in which fires are most required, when the heat of the year is departed, and cold and frost and rushing winds cover all things with gloom. Bonfires are kindled on all occasions of public rejoicing, or excitement, and Hallowmas fires are a natural expression of the change of season. It is possible a deity was originally associated with the practice, but there is now no trace of him in name or practices of this day.

As the evening wore on, the young people gathered to one house, and an almost endless variety of games (_cleasan_) were resorted to, with the object in every case of divining the future lot of the company. Were they to marry or not, was it to be that year or never, who was to be married first, what like the future husband or wife was to be, their names, trade, colour of hair, size, property, etc.? were questions of great importance, and their answer was a source of never-failing entertainment. The modes of divination are of interest, from the light they throw on the character of the people among whom they prevailed, and from an antiquarian point of view, as remains of Pagan times.

A shoe caught by the tip and thrown over the house, fore-indicates the future by its position on the ground on the other side. In whatever direction the toe points, the thrower will go before long, and it is very unlucky if the shoe be found with the sole uppermost, misfortune is “making for” him. A thin, fine shoe, used in this manner, led the man, fished up from the Green Island, to remark, after some years of silence:

“A thin shoe, little valued,
It is hard to say who will wear it.”[71]

He might well say so, for the owner of the shoe died in a few days.

The white of eggs, dropped in a glass of pure water, indicates by certain marks how many children a person is to have. The impatience and clamour of the children often made the housewife perform this ceremony for them by daylight, and the kindly mother, standing with her face to the window, dropping the white of an egg into a crystal glass of clean water, and surrounded by a group of children, eagerly watching her proceedings, formed a pretty picture.

When the fun of the evening had fairly commenced, the names of eligible, or likely as possible matches, were written on the chimney place, and the young man, who wished to essay his fortune, was blindfolded and led up to the list. Whatever name he put his finger on would prove to be that of his future wife.

Two nuts were put on the fire beside each other, representing two individuals, whose names were made known to the company. As they burned together, or flared up alone, or leaped away from each other, the future marriage of the pair, or haughty rejection of each other, was inferred.

A dish of milk and meal (_fuarag_, Scot. crowdie), or of beat potatoes, was made, and a ring was concealed in it. Spoons were given to the company, and a vigorous attack was made on the dish. Whoever got the ring would prove to be the first married. This was an excellent way of making the taking of food part of the evening’s merriment.

Apples and a silver sixpence were put in a tub of water. The apples floated on the top, but the coin lay close to the bottom. Whoever was able to lift either in his mouth, and without using his teeth, was counted very lucky, and got the prize to himself.

By taking an apple and going to a room alone, dividing it there into nine pieces against the name of the Father and the Son, eating eight pieces with the back to a looking glass and the face looking over the left shoulder, and then throwing the ninth piece over the same shoulder, the future husband or wife was seen in the glass coming and taking the piece of apple away.

A person, going in the devil’s name to winnow in a barn alone, will see his future partner entering the door.

An unmarried woman, taking a ball of thread and crossing a wall on her way, went to a kiln or other out-house. Here, holding one end of the thread, she threw the ball in the dark into the eye of the kiln (_sùil àth_), or over one of the rafters or a partition wall, in the name of a sweetheart whom she had before fixed on in her mind, and calling out “who is down there at the end of my little rope?” (_co so shìos air ceann mo ròpain?_), at the same time she gave the thread a gentle pull. In reply, some one or something pulled the thread at the other end, and a voice called out the name of her future husband. There is a story of a tailor having hid himself in anticipation of this mode of divination being resorted to, and when the ball was thrown he caught it and gave the thread a tug. In answer to the question “who is this at the end of my little rope?” he said, “I am the devil” (_Tha mise, ’n deamhan_), and the woman to whom this frightful answer was given never tried divination again.

Young women sowed hemp seed (_fras lìn_) over nine ridges of plough land, saying “I sow hemp seed, and he who is to be my husband, let him come and harrow it” (_Tha mi cur fras lìn, ’s am fear bhios na fhear ’dhomh, thigeadh e ’s cliathadh e_). On looking back they saw the figure of their future husband. Hallowe’en being the night preceding the first day of a lunar month was always dark, and this ceremony was rendered more awful by a story that a woman once saw herself coming after her, and never recovered from the effects of the vision.

By dipping his shirt sleeve in a well to the south (_tobar mu dheas_), and then pulling off the shirt and placing it to dry before the fire, the anxious youth, if he does not oversleep himself, will see his sweetheart entering through the night and turning the shirt.

On putting an odd number of keys in a sieve, going to a barn alone, and there riddling them well “with the wrong hand turn” (_car tuaitheal_), the destined one will come and put the odd key right.

By holding a mouthful of water in the mouth, and going to listen (_farcluais_) at a neighbour’s window, the first name overheard will prove to be that of one’s intended.

The same knowledge was obtained by biting a piece of the last cart that sent in the corn, and with it in the mouth going, without speaking, to listen (_farcluais_) under a neighbour’s window.

A common practice was to go and steal kail stocks. Unless the plants are pulled surreptitiously, without the knowledge or consent of their owner, they are of no use for the purpose of divination. A number of young people go together, and having cautiously and with difficulty made their way into a kailyard, pull each one the first stock that comes to hand after bending down. It must be the first that the hand meets. The plant is then taken home and examined by the light, and according to its height, straightness, colour, etc., will be the future husband or wife. A quantity of soil adhering to it signifies money and property. When put for the night above the lintel of the door, it affords indications by the first person entering below it in the morning; and, put below the pillow, it is excellent to dream over.

A straw, drawn at random from a stack, indicates by the number of grains upon it what family a person is to have.

Three ears of corn similarly pulled and placed below the pillow for the night, will cause dreams of the future husband reaping them.

A plate of clean water, one of dirty water, and one empty being placed on the floor, and a napkin thrown over the eyes, the dish in which the person blindfolded puts his forefinger, indicated a maid, or widow, or none at all.

A piece of flesh being buried this night, if any living creature was found in it in the morning, the person burying it would be married; but if not, he never would.

If water, in which the feet had been washed, were kept in the house this night,[72] (and the Fairies were apt to enter the house when that was the case), a person putting a burning peat in it will see the colour of his sweetheart’s hair in it.

If a mouthful of the top sod of the house wall (_fòid fàil na h-anainn_), or a mouthful from the clod above the lintel of the door (_àrd-dorus_) be taken into the house in one’s teeth and any hair be found in it, it is of the same colour as that of the future wife of the person who performs the rite.

One of the chief performances of the evening was for young women to go to a Boundary Stream (_allt crìche_), (if between two neighbouring proprietors so much the better,) and with closed eyes to lift from it three stones between the middle finger and thumb, saying these words:

“I will lift the stone
As Mary lifted it for her Son,
For substance, virtue, and strength;
May this stone be in my hand
Till I reach my journey’s end.”[73]

The stones were for putting below the head when going to sleep.

Many other modes of divination were practised too tedious to mention, by slices from the plough, different metals, eating a stolen raw salt herring, sprinkling corn in front of the bed, etc., etc. These observances can hardly be characterised as superstitions; they proceeded from a spirit of fun more than from any belief in their efficacy. There are in every community many weak and simple people who are easily imposed on, and made to believe almost anything; but the divinations of Hallowe’en left an abiding impression on few minds.

_Feill Fionnain._

St. Finan’s Eve is the longest night in the year, and hence it is said of a very stupid person, “he is as dark as the night of St. Finan, and that night is pretty dark” (_Tha e co dorcha ri oidhche Feill Fionnain, ’s tha ’n oidhche sin glè dhorcha_). The shortest day is called, in the Mackay country, the extreme north of Sutherlandshire, “The Day of the Three Suppers” (_Latha nan trì suipeirean_).

On this night it was said “the rain is wine and the stones are cheese” (_Tha ’n t-uisge na fhìon ’s na clachan nan càise_), and it was considered a joke to persuade boys to go out and see. “I remember,” says one who is a shrewd intelligent man, “about fifty years ago, when I was a little boy, sitting quite contentedly on the Eve of St. Finan’s Day sipping with a spoon from a big tub of water, in the full hope that the next spoonful would prove to be wine.”

The name is derived from St. Finan, confessor, Bp. of Clonard, in Ireland, in the sixth century. This day is now fixed as the 12th December, but in the Highlands it is the shortest in the year, whatever day of the calendar that may fall upon. In olden times it was much esteemed, as the rhyme shows:

“St. Finnan’s night of festivities,
And Christmas night of great cheer.”[74]

Besides giving a name to the days of the calendar the saints were employed to designate local markets, St. Kessock’s Day (_Fèill mo Cheasaig_) at Callander has been already mentioned. St. Connan’s Day (_Feill Connain_) is the autumn market in Glenorchy; _Feill Fhaolain_ is held at Killin; _Feill Ceit_ at Kenmore; and in other places we have _Feill Peadair_, _F. Aindreis_, etc. Old men spoke of _Feill an Diomhanais_, the festival of St. Idleness, a holiday frequently observed by a great many people. _Latha na Sluasaid_, Shovel Day, means the day of one’s burial. _Bliadhna na Braoisge_, Grinning Year, and _La Luain_, Moon-day (_i.e._ Monday come-never), mean the same thing, the Greek Kalends. _Bliadhna nam Brisgeinean_, the Year of Silverweed roots, was shortly after Culloden, and is remembered in Tiree as a year of great scarcity. The land had been neglected in previous years from the disturbed state of the country, and in spring the furrows were white with roots (_brisgeinean_), and people made meal of them.

DAYS OF THE WEEK.

These play a more important part in Highland superstition than even the seasons of the year. The names by which they are known are not Celtic; two, Wednesday and Thursday, are of Scandinavian or Teutonic origin, and the rest are from the Latin. The superstitions, as might be expected, can in most cases be traced directly to incidents in Scripture history. The division of time into weeks was introduced with the Christian religion from Ireland, and the Irish must be held responsible for the names adopted. Neither in the names nor in the superstitions is there any trace of an age anterior to Christianity.

_Dĭ_, which is prefixed to each name, in the sense of _day_, is kindred with the Latin _dies_, and occurs in slightly modified forms in all the Celtic dialects. It is curious that in Gaelic it occurs in no other form or combination in the sense of “day,” and a suspicion is thereby created that it is merely an adaptation of the Latin word, an easier adaptation, because there are words of similar sound and kindred meaning in Gaelic.

_Di-dòmhnaich_, SUNDAY (_dies Domini_).

The name _Dòmhnach_ for our Lord is not common. It is evidently derived from the Latin _Dominus_. It occurs in the proper name _Maol-Dòmhnaich_ Ludovic, lit. the bald one (_i.e._ the shaven priest) of our Lord, a name still to be found in Skye, and formed like _Maol-Mhoire_, Miles (lit. the priest of St. Mary), _Maol-Ciaran_, _Maol-Ruainidh_, etc. There is a streamlet near Strowan, in Blair Athole, called _allt Dòmhnach_, the streamlet of our Lord; and a _Tobar an Dòmhnach_, the well of our Lord, in Balmeanach, in the west of Tiree. In a charm for fulling cloth the expression occurs, “if he (the wearer of the cloth) enter field or fight, the full succour of our Lord be his” (_Slàn chomraich an Dòmhnach da_).

The day is also known as “_an Dòmhnach_” without the prefix of _di_. Other names are those occurring in Scripture, Sabbath, etc.

The plant pulled on Sunday is, according to a proverbial expression, without good or harm (_luibh an Dòmhnach gun mhath gun chron_).

_Di-luain_, MONDAY.

_Luain_ is said in dictionaries to be a Gaelic name for the moon, agreeing in origin with the Latin _luna_. It is used only in the name of this day, and in the expression _la luain_, a poetic phrase for Monday come-never, _i.e._ “never more.” The adjective _luaineach_, restless, is supposed to be derived from it, but is a word never applied to the moon. It applies to whatever moves restlessly by fits and starts, from place to place, without staying long in one place, and never to anything on account of change of shape or form. Its derivation from _la uaine_, green day, is absurd, and there are grounds for suspicion, that _luain_ is a word manufactured by ancient Gaelic grammarians from the Latin.

It was deemed unlucky to commence ploughing (stretching the team, as it was called, _sìneadh na seisrich_), or any kind of work on Monday. It will be proceeded with too quickly or too slowly, according to the adage,

“Work commenced on Monday,
Will be (too) quick or will be (too) slow.”[75]

It was deemed, however, a good day for removing or “flitting” upon, just as Saturday was the reverse.

“Saturday removal is to the north,
Monday removal to the south,
Though I had but a lamb
On Monday I would it remove.”[76]

Old men called it “the key of the week” (_iuchair na seachdain_).

_Di-màirt_, TUESDAY.

The name is obviously enough from _dies martis_, the Latin name.

This was a good day to begin ploughing upon, and it was ominous of good luck if any of the harness broke and the ploughing was stopped for the day. Such a belief could exist only in the easy-going olden days.

_Di-Ciadain_, WEDNESDAY.

Much ingenuity has been spent on the etymology of this word by those who delight in recondite meanings, and believe that every word in Gaelic must be traced to a Gaelic origin. What Lhuyd says of radicals and primitives is equally applicable to other words. It is a very common error in etymology to endeavour to derive all the radical words of our Western European languages from the Latin or Greek; or indeed to _derive the Primitives of any one language from any particular tongue_. When we do this we seem to forget that all have been subject to alterations, and that the greater and more polite any nation is, the more subject they are (partly from improvement, and partly out of a luxurious wantonness) to remodel their language. Nearly all words connected with ecclesiastical affairs both in English and Gaelic have been imported from the Latin and Greek, undergoing only such changes as the difference of language requires. When or why the name of a Scandinavian deity, and not a Roman name, was adopted by the British and Irish churches to designate this or any other day is a different question. We must seek (and this is a rule lamentably neglected by Gaelic etymologists), the true explanation of words in any language that offers one that is probable and rational; otherwise we make “a useful art ridiculous,” and the etymologist degenerates into “a trifling conjecturer.”

The Latin name of this day is _dies mercurii_, which name was adopted in the Welsh, Cornish, and Armoric, but the Teutonic names are derived from the Scandinavian deity _Odin_ or _Woden_, who was supposed to correspond to Mercury. This was the designation adopted in Gaelic, both Irish and Scottish. Like the French the Gaelic has no _w_, and represents that sound by _g_ or _c_. Thus, _gad_, withe; _gul_, wail; _cosd_, waste; _clòimh_, wool; _cnuimh_, worm; _curaidh_, warrior, etc. Sometimes, as pointed out under Whitsuntide (_caingis_), the corresponding English sound is _wh_. So _Woden’s_-day, Wednesday, became _Di-ceden_.

The derivation _ciad aoin’_, first fast, is open to the objection that there was no fast on Wednesday in the Celtic or any other church, that the use of the word _aoin’_, to denote a fast, is secondary, and derived from Friday (_di-haoine_), the true fast day, and that the final syllable, being the essential one, would with such a derivation, be heavily accented, instead of falling away into a mere terminal syllable. The grave _ia_ in _Di-ciadain_ is accounted for by the _o_ in Woden being long.

There was a malediction used to young women, “The disease of the woman be upon you, who put the first Wednesday comb in her head” (_Galar na tè chuir a chiad chìr Chiadna na ceann_). The disease was that she died childless.

Many would not begin sowing seed in spring, but on this day or Thursday. It was also counted a lucky day to begin ploughing upon.

A witch, in the island of Coll, being asked by a person, who had detected her in her unhallowed pranks, to visit a farm-house in shape of a hare, said, that as the day was Wednesday she could do nothing. Why her power was limited on this day does not appear.

_Di’rdaoin_, THURSDAY.

The Latin name, _dies Iovis_, has been similarly followed, with slight alteration, by the Cymric branch of the Celts; while the Gaelic names are taken from _Thor_, _Tor_, and in some dialects _Thordan_, the Scandinavian deity, son of Odin.

This is a lucky day for a calf or lamb to be born upon, for beginning the weaving of cloth, and on which the hair should be cut, as the rhymes testify:

(1) “Thursday the day of benign Colum-cill
A day to take possession of sheep,
To put cloth in warp, and settle cow on calf.”

(2) “Cut your hair and beard on Thursday,
And blunt the nail on Saturday.”[77]

It is unlucky if Beltane day, the first of summer, falls upon a Thursday, according to the saying, “Many a woman will be without an infant son, when Beltane falls on Thursday” (_Is iomadh té bhios gun mhacan baoth dar is ann air Di’rdaoin bhios a Bhealltainn_). M’Intosh (_Gael. Prov._, 146) has it, “Woe to the mother of a wizard’s son, when Beltane falls on a Thursday.” A similar prejudice existed against Hallowmas (_Samhain_), the first of winter, falling on a Wednesday.

_Di-haoine_, FRIDAY, DIES VENORIS.

Here the Gaelic names revert to the Latin. Venus is etymologically connected with the Gael, _bean_, a wife, as _Friga_ is with the German _frau_. In Armoric the name of the day is _dar guener_, and says Lhuyd (p. 9) “’Tis observable that the initial _gu_ is common to the Britons, with the French, Spaniards, and Italians; and that the Romans frequently begin such words with an V consonant.” The Gaelic word would be pronounced in the same manner, though spelled _di-Fhaoine_, which probably is the more correct form. _Aoine_ is said in dictionaries to mean a fast, but in that sense never came into popular use, and is not found in song or proverb.

The number of superstitions attached to the day were very numerous, and this origin is to be traced to Friday, being the day of the Crucifixion. On Good Friday (_Di-haoine na Ceusa_), the anniversary of our Lord’s Passion, the various beliefs had twofold force. So much was it a belief that the powers of evil have more power on this day than on any other, that it was a common saying, “Friday is against the week” (_Tha Di-haoine an aghaidh na seachdain_).

On Friday and on Sunday it was not deemed proper to go and see a sick person. Most took such a visit in anything but good part, and many would as soon see death coming to the house as a sympathising friend. In their opinion there was little difference.

The more superstitious would not allow iron to be put in the ground, and consequently no graves were dug and no ploughing was proceeded with. Commonly, however, ploughing was abstained from only on Good Friday.

It was not lucky (_sealbhach_) on Friday to cut one’s hair or nails, to sharpen knives, commence work, count animals, or go near the fire. In Argyllshire and the Highlands generally it is deemed unlucky for marriages, but in the south it is a favourite day, and in Appin, Perthshire, people did not care to be married on any other day. The aversion of seafaring men to leave on this day is well known.

On Fridays the fairies visited men’s houses, and people were careful not to say anything to give them offence. Friday was not called by its own name, but “the day of yonder town” (_la bhaile ud thall_), and if any one unfortunately mentioned the proper name, the evil was averted by the bystanders adding “on the cattle of yonder town.” Old women in Tiree averted the evil consequences of sharpening knives on Friday by saying “on the farm of Clark,” alluding to a big strong man of that name to whom a general dislike was entertained, and who was said to have entered a fairy hillock and compelled the inmate to give him a cure for his sore leg.

The aversion of the elves to iron was a prominent feature in their character, and dislike to putting iron in the ground was perhaps aversion to disturb (especially with what the elves disliked so much) the earth under the surface of which that easily offended race lives. The “little folk” are quick to take offence, and dislike hearing the name of Friday, seeing iron sharpened, or the earth disturbed with it. When there was any occasion to mention the creatures, all danger of evil consequences is averted by saying, “A blessing on their journeying and travelling, this is Friday and they will not hear us.”

In the western islands it was a bitter curse to wish that “the number of Friday” or “the cross of the number of Friday” might come upon a person (_crois àireamh na h-aoine dh’ amas ort_). To count three times cattle, chickens, men, etc., on this day was followed as a certain result by none of them being alive at the end of the year. Many in Tiree remember that in their youth a sure method of putting an old woman in a rage was to begin counting her chickens on a Friday. She seldom allowed them to get beyond three or four. The superstition probably arose from a belief that it was on Friday King David numbered the Children of Israel.

People did not like to kill a cow, a sheep, or other beast, or cut or mark calves or lambs on Friday, and there were many who would not allow their cattle to be shifted from one place to another. They would not alter their fold. If, _e.g._ the day was come for removing cows to the summer hill pastures, the more superstitious would not allow it to be done if the day was Friday.

As work commenced on Monday proceeded too quickly or too slowly, work began on Friday was said to be always hurriedly done, “it will be running” (_bi i na ruith_). “A person born on Friday is always in a hurry” (_Bi neach a rugadh Di-haoine driopail_); hence the malediction, “The running, or hurry, of Friday be upon you” (_Ruith na h-aoine ort_).

“A threatening Friday makes a tearful Saturday” (_’Si ’n Aoine bhagarach ni ’n Sathurna deurach_), and if it came on to rain early on Friday, or (as the saying was) if Friday caught the rain “in its mouth” (_Nan glacadh an t-aoine na bhial e_), it would be wet all day.

_Di-sathuirne_, SATURDAY (_Dies Saturni_).