TAIBHSE CHOIMHLIG.

â€œI was in Edinburgh last night,I am in my own mansion to-night,And worth a mote in the sunbeamI have not in me of strength.â€[47]

â€œI was in Edinburgh last night,

I am in my own mansion to-night,

And worth a mote in the sunbeam

I have not in me of strength.â€[47]

He then told where the lost document was to be found, and disappeared, saying:

â€œIf it were not the slender lances of pine,This would be to thy hurt, Young Donald Gorm.â€[48]

â€œIf it were not the slender lances of pine,

This would be to thy hurt, Young Donald Gorm.â€[48]

Peter Brown, at Dun Crosg, in Glen Lochy, hid a ploughshare (coltair), and died without telling where. In consequence his ghost long haunted a waterfall in the neighbourhood (Eas Choimhlig), but no one hadthe courage to speak to it and ascertain the cause of its unrest. In every settled community, the ploughshare is of greater value, though less glory is attached to it than the sword or any other weapon, and in the Highlands, the same terrors were attached to the hiding of so useful an instrument, which afterwards, and in a more commercial state of society, were believed to follow the secreting of gold. The unhappy man who hid it, and died without revealing his secret, could not rest in his grave. Peter Brownâ€™s ghost was commonly seen as a roebuck (boc-earba), that followed people passing the ravine of Coilig after dark, but also as a horse, dog, man, etc., and disappeared only about forty years ago. A weaver had the courage to meet it, and had a long talk with it. He was told what would happen to his family, and that his daughter, whose marriage was then spoken of, would never marry. When he returned home he took to his bed and never rose. There is now a bridge where the ford was formerly, and it was at the top of the bank above the ford the ghost was seen. It once fought a strong man, and the marks of the conflict long remained on the ground and trees.

A skiff was upset at Maodlach, the most rugged part of the coast of this rugged district. Of the two men who formed its crew, one was saved by clingingto the boat, but the other, a powerful swimmer, in trying to swim ashore, was drowned close to land. He omitted to put off his shoes and got entangled in the seaweed. Some time after his brother was coming from the smithy late at night along the shore, carrying an iron bolt on his shoulder. When opposite the place where his brotherâ€™s body had been found, this man was joined by a figure which, it was said, resembled a he-goat. He had at the time two dogs along with him, one of which cowered about his feet, but the other, a bitch, leapt up at his throat, and he had again and again to strike it down with the bolt he carried on his shoulder. The figure spoke, but it never clearly transpired what it said. It gave messages to deliver to former associates, especially to one thoughtless individual, warning him to amend in time. When the brother reached a house and came to the light, he fainted away.

In this islet, which lies on the east coast of Skye, there lived at one time a native of Mull and his wife. In the place there is a burying-ground called â€œThe Monksâ€™ burial-groundâ€ (Cladh a Mhanaich), the existence of which adds much to the feelings of awe natural to so lonely a placeâ€”a solitary islet several miles from land in a stormy sea. A dead body came on the shore, and was buried, after being stripped of itsclothes. After this the dead man came to the hut in which the Mull man stayed regularly at midnight, and sat warming himself at the fire which was left burning all night on the floor. As he bent over the fire, and held his feet and his hands to it, he said, â€œI will softly warm myself, I will softly warm myselfâ€ (Ni mi mo theÃ³ghadh â€™s mo theÃ³ghadh), and then add,

â€œWife, who took my trousers off,And my nice black shoes from me,And the shirt my sister gave me,â€”To it, to it, cold feet of mine,Many a sea youâ€™ve traversed.â€[49]

â€œWife, who took my trousers off,

And my nice black shoes from me,

And the shirt my sister gave me,â€”

To it, to it, cold feet of mine,

Many a sea youâ€™ve traversed.â€[49]

After the Mull man left the place, a party of fishermen, being in the neighbourhood, sent one of their number ashore, Red-headed Donald (DÃ²mhnull Ruadh) to prepare dinner for them in the bothy. As Donald was bending down to kindle a fire, something struck him violently on the skull and knocked him flat. Every time he attempted to lift his head the thing knocked him on the skull again. He felt sure it must be the ghost which warmed itself at the Mull-manâ€™s fire, theTeÃ³ghanof which his companions had warned him. Finding it would not allow him to rise, he lay on his back as he had been knocked down, and, not daring to look at his assaulter, wriggled himself along the floortill he got hold of a post, up which he clambered, to hide himself among the rafters. When his companions arrived the ghost was found to be a pet ram, addicted, like its kind, to butting.

Some half a century ago or more a native of Rannoch resided at Bonskeid (Bonn-sgaod) in the neighbouring parish of Blair Athole. He was married to a Badenoch woman, who had brought servants with her from her own country. In fact the only servants about the house were from Badenoch. In obedience to the law, which ascribes that which is mysterious to that which is remote, Badenoch was at that time esteemed a great place for witchcraft and things â€œuncanny.â€ A series of unaccountable noises and appearances began about the house in Bonskeid. Turnips and peats, thrown by unseen hands, flew about the house, lights were blown out, furniture was mysteriously moved, bedclothes were pulled off, and no one could be sure that an article would be found by him where he had left it. In all this there was no appearance of mortal agency, and the whole business was at once assumed to be the work of evil spirits. A friend from Rannoch, who had been on a visit to the house, declared solemnly (and he was a God-fearing, trustworthy man) that he himself heard the spinning-wheel coming down stairs, and saw it falling in pieces on the floor of the room inwhich he and the family were sitting, without any visible agency, and without any part of it being broken or injured. He put it together again, and with his own hands carried it upstairs and left it in its original place. He had not sat long after coming down when the wheel again came in the same mysterious manner, and fell in pieces on the floor. On another occasion, as he stood in the byre, a turnip came and knocked the candle out of his hand. To his certain knowledge there was no one in the byre who could have thrown it. These flying turnips came sometimes as if they had been hurled through the wall. The unhappy man, in whose house this occurred, endured the persecution for more than a year, and was sadly broken in health and spirits by the trouble. One day as he stood on the hearth-stone, warming the back of his feet to the fire, the hearth-stone began to move. A Badenoch dark hussy (Caileag dhubh) was at the time standing by, with her elbow rested on the kitchen â€˜dresser,â€™ and her chin on her hand. He observed her smiling, and it struck him she was at the bottom of all this bedevilment. He turned her and all the rest of the Badenoch servants away, and no further disturbance took place.

About twenty years ago, a house in Kilmoluag, Tiree, was the scene of similar disturbances. With one or two exceptions, all the people of the island believed them to be produced by some supernatural evil agency, and all the superstition that with the spread of education hadbeen quietly dying out was revived in renewed vigour. No one could deny the agency of spirits when the evidence was so clear. The annoyance began by the trickling of dirty water, mixed with sand, from the roof. The burning peats were found among the bedclothes, and pebbles in bowls of milk, where no peats or pebbles ought to be; linen was lifted mysteriously from the washing, and found in another room; articles of furniture were moved without being touched by visible hands, and stones flew about the house. The disturbances did not occur during the day, nor when a large company assembled at the house. Several went to lay the ghost, and a good deal of powder and shot was wasted by persons of undoubted courage in firing in the air about the house. The annoyance became so bad, and the advice of â€œwise peopleâ€ so positive, that the family removed to another house, in the hope the evil would not follow. The removal, however, had no effect, and it is privately rumoured, the disturbances ceased only when some money that had gone amissing was restored. The cause was never clearly ascertained, but there is reason to suspect it was caused, as all similar disturbances are, by some one suborned for the purpose and shielded from suspicion by a pretended simplicity and terror.

Numerous similar cases, which have occurred in the Highlands, might be instanced. Instances occurring in England, from that of Woodstock downwards, and inthe south of Scotland, differ only as the circumstances of the countries do. They all seem to have the same characteristic, the tricks are such as it is perfectly possible for human agency to perform, but it is believed there is no human being about the place who does them. Stones come flying through the windows, as if they were thrown from the sky, and are found lying on the floor; the leg of a wheelbarrow startles two persons engaged within the house in earnest conversation, by coming flying between them through the window, and striking the opposite wall with violence; a peat strikes the incredulous stranger between the shoulders, and he goes home a believer, etc. These cantrips are exaggerated by fear and rumour, till at last the devil is believed to be unusually busy in the locality. Once this belief becomes popular, the delusion is easily carried on.

The number of these, resemblingLuideag, seen about fords or bridges, and near the public road in lonely places, as has been already said, are numberless. Every unusual sight and sound, in the locality which has the name of being haunted, becomes a goblin to the timorous, and one of the most tiresome forms of ghost stories is, how the narrator was nearly frightened out of his wits (the quantity of which is not mentioned) by a horse standing with outstretched neck, and its head towards him, which he mistook for a gigantic humanfigure, by a white he-goat in the face of a rock, the plaintive cries of an owl, etc., etc. Most ghosts, however, are dependent not so much on the imagination of the individual spectator as on accumulated rumours, and their explanation is to be sought in menâ€™s love of the marvellous and tendency to exaggeration. On the high road leading from the wood of Nant (Coillâ€™ an Eannd) to Kilchrenan on Lochaweside, two or three summers ago, the traveller was met by a dark shadow, which passed him without his knowing how. On looking after him, he again saw the shadow, but this time moving away, and a little man in its centre, growing less as the shadow moved off. The little man was known as â€œBodach beag Chill-a-Chreunain.â€

About the same time a ghost haunted the neighbourhood of Inveraray, and caused great annoyance to the post and others travelling late. A man had a tussle with a ghost atUchdan a Bhiorain duiin Appin, and said it felt in his arms like a bag of wool. Phantom men were to be seen atUchdan na Dubhaigabove Balachulish; atAth-flÃ¨odair, a ford near Loch Maddy in Uist, â€˜thingsâ€™ are perpetually seen, and it takes a very courageous man to go from Portree home to Braes, in Skye, after dark. A mile above the manse, where the road is most lonely, and near the top of a gradual ascent, sounds of throttling are heard and dark moving objects are seen.

In the island of Coll, the top of the ascent aboveGrisipol had at one time an evil reputation as a haunted spot. At the summit of the pass, there is a white round rock calledCnoc Stoirr. One night a man, on his way to the west end of Coll, reached the place about midnight, and was joined by a man on horseback. The rider said not a word, and accompanied him for near three miles to the â€œRound House,â€ as a house, built for the accommodation of the farm-servants of Breacacha Castle was called. Whenever he attempted to enter any of the houses on the way, the silent horseman came between him and the house and prevented him. When they came to the Round House, the cock crew, and the horseman disappeared over the gate in a flame of fire. The man was lifted into the house, pouring with sweat, and going off in fainting fits.

In Glen Lyon, in Perthshire, there is a village calledCaisle, and near it a ford (now a bridge) and ravine calledEas a Chaisle. In the early part of the present century, clods and stones were thrown by unseen hands at parties crossing this ford at night. At last, no one would venture to cross. A harum-scarum gentleman of the neighbourhood, popularly looked upon as an unbeliever and a man without fear of God or man, crossed one night, and the clods as usual began to fly about him. He cried out, â€œIn the name of God I defy all from the pitâ€; and on his saying this a mysterious sound passed away up the ravine, and clod-throwing at the place was never afterwards heard of.

The district, now forming the parishes of Kilmartin and Kilmichael, at the west end of the Crinan Canal, is known in the neighbourhood as Argyle (Earra-ghaidheal), probably from a Celtic colony from Ireland having settled there first. The people, for instance, of Loch Aweside say of a person going down past Ford, that he is going down to Argyle. In course of time the name has been extended to the county. The public road leading through the district was once infested by a ghost, which caused considerable terror to the inhabitants. A person was got to lay it. He met the ghost and exorcised it in the name of Peter and Paul and John and all the most powerful saints, but it never moved. At last he called out peremptorily, â€œIn the name of the Duke of Argyle, I tell you to get out of there immediately.â€ The ghost disappeared at once, and was never seen again.

Bliadhna, a year, has been derived by writers on Celtic antiquities fromBel-ain, â€œthe ring or circle of Baal,â€ but the derivation is at variance with etymological analogies, as well as inadmissible from there being no satisfactory evidence that Baalim worship ever extended to the Celtic tribes. It can only be regarded as part of that punning affectation with which Gaelic scholarship is disfigured. The initialbloccurs in many words which have in common the idea ofseparation, andbliadhnais likely connected with such words asbloigh, a fragment;ball, a spot, a limb, and denotes merely a division, or separate portion, of time.

The notations of the Celtic year belong to the Christian period, old style. If there are any traces of Pagan times they are only such as are to be gathered from a few names and ceremonies.

The four seasons are known asearrach, spring,samhradh, summer,fogharadh, harvest, andgeamhradh,winter. The final syllable in each of these names isrÃ idh, a quarter or season of the year, a space of three months; and the student of Gaelic will note that the long and heavy vowel, of which it consists, is, contrary to the common rule affecting long vowels, shortened and made an apparently indifferent terminal syllable. It is still deemed, in many parts of the Highlands, unlucky to be proclaimed in one quarter of the year and married in the next, and the circumstance is called being â€œastride on the seasonsâ€ (gobhlach muâ€™n rÃ idh). It is an old saying, that the appearance of a season comes a month before its actual arrival;mÃ¬os roi gach rÃ idh choltas,i.e.a month before each season, is seen its appearance. The character of the seasons is described in an old riddle,

â€œFour came over,Without boat or ship,One yellow and white,One brown, abounding in twigs,One to handle the flailAnd one to strip the trees.â€[50]

â€œFour came over,

Without boat or ship,

One yellow and white,

One brown, abounding in twigs,

One to handle the flail

And one to strip the trees.â€[50]

There can be no doubt the origin of the names given to them belongs to a period anterior to Christianity.

Earrach, spring, is derived fromear, the head, thefront, the east. In naming the four quarters of the heavens, the face, as in the case of the Hebrew names, is supposed to be toward the east. The right hand (deas) is the name given to the south, and the adjectivetuaitheal, fromtuath, the north, means â€œwrong, to the left, against the sun.â€ Hence also,toirt foâ€™n ear, lit. to take a thing from the east, means to observe;earalas, foresight,i.e.the having a thing in view;earar, the day after to-morrow,i.e.the day in front of it. The Latinbos, and the Greek á¼”Î±Ï‚ or á¼¦Ï‚ would indicate that the ancient Celtic name of the season wasfearrach, and if so it may be connected withfear, vir, a man, the firstpar excellence,for, before,furasda, easy, etc.EÃ rrmeans the tail, and the long syllable shows it to be only another form ofiar, west, behind, after, the opposite ofear. Frequently these names for east and west are known assearandsiar, ase.g.cha-n fhearr an gille shiar naâ€™n gille shear, â€œthe lad from the west is no better than the lad from the east,â€ that is, it is but six of the one and half a dozen of the other.

Samhradh, summer, according to old glossaries, is from obs.samh, the sun, and means the sun season or quarter. This corresponds with the English name, which is evidently a softened form ofsun-mer.Samhis now used to denote â€œthe suffocating smell produced by excessive heat.â€[51]In Tiree, it is the name given to the hazy heavy appearance of the Western ocean, andfew expressions are more common thansamh chuain t-siar, the oppressive feeling of which the uneasy sea on the west side of the island is productive. In the North Hebridessamhmeans the ocean itself. A common description over the whole Highlands of an intolerable stench ismharbhadh e na samhanaich,i.e.it would kill the savage people living in caves near the ocean, as giants were fabled to do.

Fogharadh, autumn, is likely connected withfogh, said to mean ease, hospitality, andfoghainn, to suffice, with the same root idea ofabundance.

Geamhradh, winter; Lat.hiems, Gr. Ï‡Îµá¿–Î¼Î±. No doubtgeamhis of the same origin as the Greek and Latin words, but it does not find its explanation in the Greek Ï‡ÎµÏ‰, to pour. From its being found ingÃ¨amhlag, a crow-bar,gÃ¨imheal, a chain,geamhtach, short, stiff, and thick, there seems to have been a Gaelic root implying to bind, to be stiff, which gives a suitable derivation for the name of the season of frost and ice.

Mios, a month, is supposed to be connected withmias, a round platter, from the moonâ€™s round orb completing its circle within the month. Greek Î¼Î®Î½, Eol. Î¼ÎµÎ¹Ï‚, a month; Lat.mensis; Sanscr.mÃ¢sas, a month,mÃ¢s, the moon. These show that undoubtedly the origin of the word is connected with the moon. The names in the Greek, Latin, and Teutonic languages show that there was originally annin the word, and the Gaelic, as well as Sanscrit, bears testimony to the same fact, bythe long vowel. It is a common thing in Hebrew fornat the end of a syllable and in the middle of a word to be assimilated to an immediately succeeding consonant, and it is more likely it so disappeared in some languages than that it was assumed by others. Another Gaelic name for the moon,rÃ©, is also used to denote a portion of time;ri mo rÃ©, during my lifetime.

Computation of time, however, by months and days of the month, as at present, was entirely unknown to the Highlander of former days; and even yet, the native population do not say â€œon such a day of such a month,â€ but so many days before or after the beginning of summer or other season, or before and after certain well-known term days and festivals, as St Brideâ€™s day, St Patrickâ€™s day, Whitsunday (caingis), Hallowtide (Samhuinn), etc. The time is always reckoned by the old style, and this difference of notation is at first confusing to a stranger. For instance, when told that the ling fishing on the West Coast lasts from the middle of spring till five weeks of summer, it will take a little thought on his part to realise that this means from the beginning of April to about the 18th of June. Names for the months are to be found in dictionaries, but they are obviously manufactured from the Latin names, and confined to modern printed Gaelic.

A connected account of the festivals and days by which the year was marked, must begin with the festivities by which its advent was celebrated.

The seven days from Christmas to the New Year were calledNollaig, and in the good easy-going olden times no work was done during them, but men gave themselves up to friendly festivities and expressions of goodwill. Hence the sayings, â€œThe man whom Christmas does not make cheerful, Easter will leave sad and tearful,â€[52]and â€œThere is no Christmas without flesh.â€[53]Christmas day was called â€œthe day of big Nollaigâ€ (Latha Nollaig mhÃ³r), and the night before it â€œthe night of Cakesâ€ (oidhche nam bannagan); while New-Year day was known as â€œthe day of little Nollaigâ€ (Latha Nollaig bhig), and the night before it â€œthe night of blowsâ€ (oidhche nan Calluinnean).

The nameNollaigis from the Latinnatalis, as is made certain by the Welsh word beingNadolig; and therefore corresponds to the English Christmas. Various explanations are given of the name of the night before it. Some saybannagmeans â€œa feast of women,â€ frombean, a wife, a feast of rejoicing, such as is customary when a child is born, being prepared by women this evening in memory of the birth of Christ. Others say thebannagis the cake presented by them to every one who entered the house that night. If the word means a cake, it is only applied to Christmas cakes or those used on this day. When there was aperson of means, he took every one he met that week, especially the poor, to his house, and gave him hisbannag, a large round cake (bonnach mÃ²r cruinn).

New-Yearâ€™s night, or Hogmanay, was variously known as â€œthe night of the candleâ€ (oidhche Choinnle) and â€œthe night of the blows or peltingâ€ (oidhche nan Calluinnean, a Challuinn). The former name may have been derived from some religious ceremonies being performed by candle-light, as is suggested to be the origin of the English name Candlemas (2nd February), or from a candle being kept lighted till the New Year came in. The other name is said to be from the showers of rattling blows given to a dry cowâ€™s hide used in the ceremonies of the evening,colluinnbeing also used to denote a thundering blow, or what is called in the Lowlands â€œa loundering lickâ€ (strÃ ic mhÃ²r). Thus,thug e aon cholluinn air(he gave him one resounding blow);bi tu air do dheagh cholluinneachadh(you will be severely beaten). The word, however, as was long ago pointed out by Lhuyd (ArchÃ¦ologia Britannica, 1707) is fromCalendae, the first day of every month, this being the beginning of the whole year, and the night being in the Highlands reckoned as preceding the day.

Towards evening men began to gather and boys ran about shouting and laughing, playing shinty, and rollingâ€œpigs of snowâ€ (mucan sneachda),i.e.large snowballs. The hide of the mart or winter cow (seiche a mhairt gheamhraidh) was wrapped round the head of one of the men, and he made off, followed by the rest, belabouring the hide, which made a noise like a drum, with switches. The disorderly procession went three timesdeiseal, according to the course of the sun (i.e.keeping the house on the right hand) round each house in the village, striking the walls and shouting on coming to a door:

â€œThecalluinnof the yellow bag of hide,Strike the skin (upon the wall)An old wife in the graveyard,An old wife in the corner,Another old wife beside the fire,A pointed stick in her two eyes,A pointed stick in her stomach,Let me in, open this.â€[54]

â€œThecalluinnof the yellow bag of hide,

Strike the skin (upon the wall)

An old wife in the graveyard,

An old wife in the corner,

Another old wife beside the fire,

A pointed stick in her two eyes,

A pointed stick in her stomach,

Let me in, open this.â€[54]

Before this request was complied with, each of the revellers had to repeat a rhyme, calledRann Calluinn(i.e.a Christmas rhyme), though, as might be expected when the door opened for one, several pushed their way in, till it was ultimately left open for all. On enteringeach of the party was offered refreshments, oatmeal bread, cheese, flesh, and a dram of whisky. Their leader gave to the goodman of the house that indispensable adjunct of the eveningâ€™s mummeries, theCaisein-uchd, the breast-stripe of a sheep wrapped round the point of a shinty stick. This was then singed in the fire (teallach), put three times with the right-hand turn (deiseal) round the family, and held to the noses of all. Not a drop of drink was given till this ceremony was performed. TheCaisein-uchdwas also made of the breast-stripe or tail of a deer, sheep, or goat, and as many as choose had one with them.

The house was hung with holly to keep out the fairies, and a boy, whipped with a branch of it, may be assured he will live a year for every drop of blood he loses. This scratching and assurance were bestowed by boys on one another, and was considered a good joke.

Cheese was an important part of the refreshments, and was known as the Christmas cheese (CÃ ise Calluinn). A slice, cut off at this feast, or a piece of the rind (cÃ¹l na mulchaig), if preserved and with a hole made through it, has strange virtues. It was calledlaomachan, and a person losing his way during the ensuing year, in a mist or otherwise, has only to look through the hole and he will see his way clearly. By scrambling to the top of the house, and looking through it down thefÃ r-lus(the hole in the roof that served in olden times for chimney and window), a person canascertain the name of his or her future husband or wife. It will prove to be the same as that of the first person seen, or heard named. A piece oflaomachanis also valuable for putting under oneâ€™s pillow to sleep over.

In this style the villagers, men and boys, went from house to house, preceded in many cases by a piper, and drowning the animosities of the past year in hilarity and merriment.

In general the rhymes used, when seeking admittance, varied but little in different districts. Sometimes an ingenious person made a rhyme suitable to the place and people, and containing allusions to incidents and character that increased the prevailing fun. The following is one of the most common of the class:

â€œI have come here firstTo renew the Hogmanay;I need not tell about it,It was kept in my grandfatherâ€™s time.The Calluinn Breast-stripe is in my pocket,A goodly mist comes from it;The goodman will get it first,And shove its nose into the fire upon the hearth.It will go sunwise round the children,And particularly the wife will get it;â€™Tis his own wife best deserves it,Hand to distribute the Christmas cakes.Rise down, young wife,And young wife who hast earned praise;Rise (and come) down, as you were wont,And bring down ourCalluinnto us.The cheese, that has the smooth face,And butter eye has not blinked;But if you have not that beside you,Bread and flesh will suffice.There is water in my shoes,And my fingers are cut,There is in beside the fire,What will cure my complaint,And if you have room to move,Rise and bring down the glass.â€

â€œI have come here first

To renew the Hogmanay;

I need not tell about it,

It was kept in my grandfatherâ€™s time.

The Calluinn Breast-stripe is in my pocket,

A goodly mist comes from it;

The goodman will get it first,

And shove its nose into the fire upon the hearth.

It will go sunwise round the children,

And particularly the wife will get it;

â€™Tis his own wife best deserves it,

Hand to distribute the Christmas cakes.

Rise down, young wife,

And young wife who hast earned praise;

Rise (and come) down, as you were wont,

And bring down ourCalluinnto us.

The cheese, that has the smooth face,

And butter eye has not blinked;

But if you have not that beside you,

Bread and flesh will suffice.

There is water in my shoes,

And my fingers are cut,

There is in beside the fire,

What will cure my complaint,

And if you have room to move,

Rise and bring down the glass.â€

The following New-Yearâ€™s rhyme must have tried the breath of the speaker and the patience of his listeners considerably. It consists probably of several separate rhymes tagged together, and the allusions it contains to the â€œbig clerk of the street,â€ etc., make it highly probable the ceremonies of the evening were remains of the Festival of Fools, and had their origin in the streets of Rome. The rhyme is given as it came to hand.

â€œBless this cheerful dwelling,With a musical voice,That it be like a royal palace,Without being wasteful.Bless each manWho surrounds this gathering,From the one grown grey with seniorityTo the one of infantâ€™s age.Bless our gentle men,And our young children,All who chance at this timeTo come to Donaldâ€™s.Men! this begins my taleAnd I must tell it.Ho! each black, black generous one!HÃ²-go! each generous one!Divide this portionMy servant harrowed!More produce!Then it was that Margaret said,â€˜O dear! more produce!â€™Then said Mary,â€˜My dearest dear!Martin is behind the door,Listening to us!â€™â€˜That is his excuse,â€™ said she.Hu fudar! hei fedar!Up with you, you cajoler!Fierce icinesses roseOn Donald,He levelled at MargaretFair abuse!He gave a tap to the harp,And the strings sounded.He quickly drew acrambatAnd tried to tune it.â€˜You have done a mischief,â€™ said the clerk,â€˜That I donâ€™t regret!Utter ruin has come upon you,With your broken stick!â€™â€˜You have a healing vessel,â€™Said the harper.â€˜When you are tried with it a second time,â€™Twill make the stick whole;So your share be yours of the healing cup.O dearest sir!May that stick of many virtuesBe full of produce!â€™I went on candle night to hold New Year revel,In the house of fat puddings,I asked admittance at the door,Coaxingly with fair words;The big clerk of the street spokeA senseless word,â€˜If my gold crook were in my hand,I would not let your head whole from the door.â€™I took the north turn to the door,That was a north turn of mischief to me;I struck the big toe of my footIn the face of a stone,The pin fell, the pan fell,The harrows in the door fell,They made a cling clang clattering!Rise down, young wife,And honest dame, that hast carried praise,Be womanly as thou wert wont,And bring our Christmas gifts to us.The smoothed-faced cheese,And entrails prepared with juice;But if these are not convenient,Bread and cheese will suffice.It was not greed with open mouthThat brought me to the town,But a hamperOn my servantâ€™s back!A white servant catch me,Fatness burns me!Open and let me in!â€˜True for him,â€™ said the goodman, â€˜let him in.â€™â€

â€œBless this cheerful dwelling,

With a musical voice,

That it be like a royal palace,

Without being wasteful.

Bless each man

Who surrounds this gathering,

From the one grown grey with seniority

To the one of infantâ€™s age.

Bless our gentle men,

And our young children,

All who chance at this time

To come to Donaldâ€™s.

Men! this begins my tale

And I must tell it.

Ho! each black, black generous one!

HÃ²-go! each generous one!

Divide this portion

My servant harrowed!

More produce!

Then it was that Margaret said,

â€˜O dear! more produce!â€™

Then said Mary,

â€˜My dearest dear!

Martin is behind the door,

Listening to us!â€™

â€˜That is his excuse,â€™ said she.

Hu fudar! hei fedar!

Up with you, you cajoler!

Fierce icinesses rose

On Donald,

He levelled at Margaret

Fair abuse!

He gave a tap to the harp,

And the strings sounded.

He quickly drew acrambat

And tried to tune it.

â€˜You have done a mischief,â€™ said the clerk,

â€˜That I donâ€™t regret!

Utter ruin has come upon you,

With your broken stick!â€™

â€˜You have a healing vessel,â€™

Said the harper.

â€˜When you are tried with it a second time,

â€™Twill make the stick whole;

So your share be yours of the healing cup.

O dearest sir!

May that stick of many virtues

Be full of produce!â€™

I went on candle night to hold New Year revel,

In the house of fat puddings,

I asked admittance at the door,

Coaxingly with fair words;

The big clerk of the street spoke

A senseless word,

â€˜If my gold crook were in my hand,

I would not let your head whole from the door.â€™

I took the north turn to the door,

That was a north turn of mischief to me;

I struck the big toe of my foot

In the face of a stone,

The pin fell, the pan fell,

The harrows in the door fell,

They made a cling clang clattering!

Rise down, young wife,

And honest dame, that hast carried praise,

Be womanly as thou wert wont,

And bring our Christmas gifts to us.

The smoothed-faced cheese,

And entrails prepared with juice;

But if these are not convenient,

Bread and cheese will suffice.

It was not greed with open mouth

That brought me to the town,

But a hamper

On my servantâ€™s back!

A white servant catch me,

Fatness burns me!

Open and let me in!

â€˜True for him,â€™ said the goodman, â€˜let him in.â€™â€

The following rhyme was appointed for all who had nothing else to say:

â€œI do not dislike cheese,And have no aversion to butter;But a little drop from the caskMy throttle is in quest of.â€

â€œI do not dislike cheese,

And have no aversion to butter;

But a little drop from the cask

My throttle is in quest of.â€

It was a practice not to be neglected to keep the fire alive in the house all night. No one was to come nearit but a friend, and, as an additional security against its going out, candles were kept burning. Hence, the other name given to the night,Oidhche Choinnle,i.e.candle night. There was a rhyme (which the writer has not been able to recover) to be said when feeding the fire. By this means evil was kept away from the house for the subsequent year. If the fire went out no kindling could be got next day from any of the neighbours. The first day of the year was a quarter-day, on which it was unlucky to give fire out of the house. It gave the means to witches and evilly-disposed people to do irreparable mischief to the cattle and their produce. The dying out of the fire was, therefore, a serious inconvenience in days when lucifer matches were unknown. The women made use of the occasion to bake bread for next day.

Old men, provident of the future, watched with interest the wind the old year left (ghaoth dhâ€™fhÃ gas a Choluinn). That would prove the prevailing wind during the ensuing year, and indicated its chief characteristics, as the rhyme says:

â€œSouth windâ€”heat and produce,North windâ€”cold and tempest,West windâ€”fish and milk,East windâ€”fruit on trees.â€[55]

â€œSouth windâ€”heat and produce,

North windâ€”cold and tempest,

West windâ€”fish and milk,

East windâ€”fruit on trees.â€[55]

(Latha na Bliadhnâ€™ Ã¹r); also called the Day of Little Christmas (Latha nollaige bige).

On getting up in the morning the head of the family treated all the household to a dram. After that a spoonful of half-boiled sowens (cabhruich leth-bhruich), the poorest food imaginable, was given for luck. Sometimes the sowens were whole boiled, and in some places the well-to-do farmerâ€™s wife left a little over night at the house of every poor man on the farm. The custom of having this dish of sowens was known in the central Highlands, and in Lorn, but does not seem to have extended to Mull, Morven, or the Western Islands. The salutations of the season were duly given by the household to one another, and to every person they met: â€œA good New Year to youâ€ (Bliadhna mhath Ã¹r dhuit), â€œThe same to you, and many of themâ€ (Mar sin duit fhein is mÃ²ran diu). The boys rushed away out, to play at their everlasting game of shinty, and a more sumptuous breakfast than ordinary was prepared.

Nothing was allowed to be put out of the house this day, neither the ashes of the fire nor the sweepings of the house, nor dirty water, nor anything else, however useless, or however much in the way. It was a very serious matter to give fire out of the house to a neighbour whose hearth had become cold, as the doing so, as already said, gave power to the evil-minded to takeaway the produce from the cattle. Indeed it was ominous that death would occur in the household within the year. Hospinian tells that at Rome, on New-Yearâ€™s Day, no one would allow a neighbour to take fire out of his house, or anything composed of iron (Ellisâ€™sBrandâ€™s Antiquities, i. 13).

It was unlucky for a woman to be the first to enter the house, or if the person were empty-handed. A young man entering with an armful of corn was an excellent sign of the yearâ€™s prosperity; but a decrepit old woman asking kindling for her fire was a most deplorable omen. The same belief that some people are lucky as first-foots led to the â€œcurious customâ€ in the Isle of Man known as theQuaaltagh(Ellisâ€™sBrand, i. 538). That word differs only in spelling from the GaeliccÃ²mhalaich, orcÃ²mhaltaich, a person, the meeting of whom is ominous of good or bad fortune. To ensure a good omen, a party of young men went in every parish in Man from house to house on New-Yearâ€™s Day singing luck to the inmates. It was deemed an omen of good to see the sun this day.

Towards mid-day the men gathered in some suitable place, the largest and most level field in the neighbourhood, for the great Shinty Match (Iomain mhÃ²r). A match was formed between adjoining districts and villages, or, if the village itself was populous, by two leaders, appointed for the purpose, choosing one alternately from those present till the whole gathering wasgone through. It was decided who was to choose first by the one leader holding his shinty stick (caman) vertically, or up and down, and throwing it to the other, who caught somewhere about the middle. The two then grasped the stick alternately, the hand of the one being close above that of the other, and the one who grasped the end, so that he could swing the stick three times round his head, had the first choice. Sometimes, to decide the point quickly, one asked the other which he would have, â€œfoot or palmâ€ (chas no bhas), meaning which end of the shinty stick he made choice of, the â€œfootâ€ being that by which the stick is held, the â€œpalm,â€ that with which the ball is struck. On a choice being made the club was thrown into the air, and the matter was decided by the point of it that pointed southwardly more summarily than by the â€œheads and tailsâ€ of a copper coin.

In the game a wooden ball (ball) was used in the daytime, when men could guard themselves against being struck by it; but when the game was played at night, in the dusk or by moonlight, a ball of hair or thread calledcrÃ¬odwas used. The object of the game was to drive this ball â€œhailâ€ (thaghal), that is between and beyond certain marks at the two ends of the field. Of course the two parties had opposite â€œhails.â€ The play commenced by setting the ball in a suitable place, and giving the first blow, calledBuille BhÃ raich, to the chief, proprietor, priest, ministeror other principal person present. A player stood opposite to him, and if the ball was missed at the first blow, as sometimes happened from excessive deliberation, want of skill and practice, etc., whipped it away in the other direction, and, without further ceremony, every person ran after it as he chose, and hit it as he got opportunity. Two or three of the best players on each side were kept behind their party, â€œbehind hailâ€ (air chÃ¹l taghail), as in the game of football, to act as a guard when their adversaries too nearly sent the ball â€œhome.â€ Sometimes the company was so fairly matched that nightfall put an end to the sport without either party winning â€œa hail.â€ Every player got as much exercise as he felt inclined for. Some did little more than walk about the field, others could hardly drag themselves home at night with fatigue. Much can be said in behalf of the game as the best of out-door sports, combining healthy, and, when the player chooses, strong exercise with freedom from horse-play.

A piper played before and after the game. The women, dressed in their best, stood looking on. At the end the chief, or laird, gave a dinner, or, failing him, a number were entertained in the house of a mutual friend. In the evening a ball was given, open to all.

New-Yearâ€™s Day, like the first of every quarter of the year (h-uile latha ceann rÃ idhe), was a greatsainingday,i.e.a day for taking precautions for keeping away evil from the cattle and houses. Certain ceremonies werecarefully observed by the superstitious; juniper was burnt in the byre, the animals were marked with tar, the houses were decked with mountain ash, and the door-posts and walls, and even the cattle, were sprinkled with wine.

By New-Yearâ€™s Day the nights have begun to shorten considerably. It is a Gaelic saying that there is â€œan hour of greater length to the day of little Christmasâ€ (uair ri latha Nollaige bige), and this is explained to be â€œthe hour of the fuel ladâ€ (uair a ghille chonnaidh). The word uair means â€œa timeâ€ as well as an hour; and the meaning perhaps is, that owing to the lengthening of the day the person bringing in firewood has to go one trip less frequently for fuel to make a light.

Christmas Day (La Nollaige mÃ²ire) was said to lengthenfad coisichean coilich, a cockâ€™s stride or walk, and the expression was explained to mean that the bird had time to walk to a neighbourâ€™s dunghill, crow three times, and come back again.

The same sayings are current in the Highlands as in the south. â€œA green Yule makes a fat kirkyardâ€ has its literal counterpart inâ€™S i Nollaig uaine ni an cladh miagh(i.e.reamhar) and inâ€™S blianach Nollaig gun sneachda(i.e.Lean is Yule without snow).

There is no reason to suppose that any Pagan rites connected with the period of the winter solstice were incorporated with the Yule orNollaigceremonies. The various names connected with the season are of Christianorigin; the superstitions, as that of refusing fire and allowing nothing out of the house, can be traced to Rome; the custom of a man dressing himself in a cowâ€™s hide, as suggested by Brand (i. 8), with every probability, is a vestige of the Festival of Fools, long held in Paris on New-Yearâ€™s Day, and of which it was part that men clothed themselves in cow-hide (vestiuntur pellibus pecudum). The holding of a singed piece of skin to the noses of the wassailers is more likely to have originated in the frolics of the same festival than in any Pagan observance. The meaning of the custom is obscure, but its character is too whimsical to be associated with any Pagan rite.

(Da latha dheug na Nollaig.)

These were the twelve days commencing from the Nativity or BigNollaig, and were deemed to represent, in respect of weather, the twelve months of the year. Some say the days should be calculated from New-Yearâ€™s Day. â€œWhatever weather there is on the twelve days beginning with the last of December, the same will agree with the weather in the corresponding monthâ€ (Pennant). In Ireland the twelve days were held to stand for the twelve Apostles, and â€œon Twelve Eve in Christmas they used to set up as high as they can a sieve of oats, and in it a dozen of candles all round, and in the centre one larger, all lighted. This inmemory of our Saviour and his Apostles, lights of the worldâ€ (Brand, i. 25). The same, no doubt, was the origin of the Highland notation. They are also looked upon as the twelve days between old and new style. There is evidence in the saying, that â€œan hour and a half is added to Candle Dayâ€ (uair gu leth ri Latha Coinnle), that some such custom was known of old in Scotland as in Ireland; and though Candle Night (Oidhche Choinnle) is now a name given to Christmas night, there is a probability it originally denoted Twelve Eve, or the Feast of the Epiphany.

The period during which the above festivities occurred, and sometime before and afterNollaig, was popularly known as â€œThe Black cuttings of Christmasâ€ (Gearra dubha na Nollaig), from its liability to tempestuous weather. The sky is then lowering and dark, the â€œlevelâ€ sun gives little warmth, and high winds prevail.

TheDÃ¹lachdof winter extended over the six weeks preceding the middle of spring (gu meadhon an Earraich). Some (e.g.Highland Societyâ€™s Dict.,sub voce) call itDÃ¹bhlachd, and translate it simply â€œwintry weather.â€ Others call itDÃ¹dlachd, and denote by it â€œthe depth of winter.â€ The word is a contraction ofduaithealachd, fromduaitheil, extremely coarse and rough, an epithet applied to stormy weather. Thus,nach duaitheil an t-sÃ¬d?is it not desperately coarse weather?Ceannreamhar an duaithealais, â€œthe thick end of coarseness,â€ denotes extremely rough usage.

Handsel Monday (Di-luain an t-sainnseil) was the first Monday after New-Yearâ€™s Day, and was the principal day in the whole year fordeachainn,i.e.for making trials and forecasts of the future. It derives its name fromsainnseal, Scot. handsel, a present or gift in his hand given this day to every visitor to a house.Sainnseal sonais â€œa happy or fortunate present.â€ In some districts cock-fighting was practised in the schools, and children brought a gratuity (in money) to the schoolmaster. In other districts this was not the case till Shrovetide (Di-mÃ irt Inid).

In Skye the day is calledDi-luain Traosda; and it is from it the 12 days, corresponding in weather to the 12 months of the year, are computed.

The nameFaoilleachis said to mean â€œWolf-month,â€ fromfaol, wild, whence alsofaol-chu, a wolf, lit. a wild dog. It embraces the last 14 days of winter and the first 14 days of spring, the former being called the winter Faoilleach (am Faoilleach geamhraidh), the latter the spring (am Faoilleach Earraich). It is also known as â€œthe Dead Monthâ€ (aâ€™ marbh mhiÃ²s). Winter is still ruling the inverted year, and all nature seems to be dead. The trees have long lost their foliage, the grass gives no sign as yet ofreturning growth, and fields and fallows are bare. When over all there is a coating of snow the name of â€œDead Monthâ€ appears peculiarly appropriate. The time, being reckoned by old style, corresponds almost exactly to the present month of February, and the saying that â€œevery month in the year curses a fair February.â€ is amply corroborated by the Gaelic sayings regarding it. Old men liked it to commence with a heavy storm and end with a calm, or (to use their own words) â€œto come in with the head of a serpent and go out with a peacockâ€™s tailâ€ (tighinn a stigh le ceann na nathrach, â€™s dol amach le earball peucaig). There are to be three days of calm during it, according to the saying, â€œThree days of August in February, and three days of February in Augustâ€ (trÃ¬ la Faoilleach san Iuchar, â€™s trÃ¬ la Iuchar san Fhaoilleach). Both the February calm and the August storm, however, have become proverbial for their uncertainty and short duration. â€œFebruary calm and August windâ€ (Fiaâ€™ Faoilleach is gaoth Iuchar) are the most fickle things in the world. In the north it was said mist in February means snow next day (CeÃ² san Fhaoilleach, sneachda maireach). Old people said, â€œBetter the land be plundered than a calm morning in February.â€[56]The most unreasonable of expectations is to expect black â€œbrambles in Februaryâ€ (smeuran dubha san Fhaoilleach).

It is unfortunate if the heat of this season is such, as old men say they have seen it, that the cattle run with the heat; but it is a healthy sign of the season if men go about with their hands wrinkled with the cold till they resemble an animalâ€™s hoof, and kept in their pockets (anciently belts) for warmth.

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