Apparently the silver is given in the form of money as the most convenient medium, though there is good reason for the supposition that the whiteness of silver makes it specially appropriate as a medium of remuneration.
The instance in which the child that was ill is described as if singing “do re do,” the woman who cured it received from the father tea and sugar which he had taken with him when he went to consult her; but she said to “my man” (it was the mother who recited the incident) “that she was not wanting anything and would do it for us for nothing, but that he would need to come back with white silver. I sent him back with a sixpence to give her.”
An innkeeper, a well-read, shrewd woman of about five-and-forty, tells of a case with which she was well acquainted in which a near neighbour consulted an old man, wanting him to bring back her butter. “She said that she would pay him if he would bring it back to her.” He said that he did not want payment, but at the same time he could not bring it back unless he were paid in silver for doing so; that being so, he would require to take something from her, as otherwise the cure would not be successful. So she gave him the silver and soon had all the butter that she lost.“
Another reciter having been accustomed to do the churning in his father’s house, after his father’s death, his stepmother sent for him because she herself could not get any butter from the churn. He did his best, but was unsuccessful. Having had a horse cured by eolas, he suggested that the same man should be consulted. The man arrived, and the case was explained, the woman stating, “Feuch gun toir sibh dhachaidh an toradh oir tha e air falbh.” (“Try if you can bring back the due produce, for it is gone.”) “I’ll do that,” he said, and he did it by his eolas; there was plenty butter on the churn. It cost the woman a crown, but if it did, that was better than that the butter should be lost.
A woman who prepared a bottle for a sick cow charged the man who consulted her “two shillings for the bottle, and when she took the money she poured a little water on it and spat on it.” She might, one would think, with advantage have changed the order of her proceedings.
A sick bull which the veterinary surgeon had given up was referred to an eolas woman, the principal argument being that her assistance “would only cost a shilling.” She ordered a bucket of water to be thrown over the animal, and it recovered.
A Mull woman tells how her grandmother when newly married, after having reared calves, could only get butter of such an ugly colour that nobody would eat it, and it was used for greasing wool before carding. She was asked by a neighbour for a bowl of butter one day, and accused of greed for refusing it while she had eight cows. She explained the position, and was then advised to consult an old man, the neighbour adding that she would be coming back in a fortnight, when there would be plenty of butter to give her. The results of the consultation were fairly successful, though the eolas man explained that she would not for that year have so much butter as she should have, but that she should consider herself lucky that her cattle had not died. The reciter then said that her grandmother gave the man “plenty for his trouble, but did not grudge it.” When the old woman called on her way back she said, “Well, you can give me the butter now.” To which her friend replied, “Yes, I am thankful to you that I can.” And she gave her a good bowl of butter.
In the above case payment seems to have been in kind. A native of Ardnamurchan tells of a neighbour of her mother’s who had a number of cows and lost the due product of the whole of them. Her mother’s people were sitting down to dinner when a beggar woman came and asked, “An sibhse a’ bhoirionnach a chaill an toradh?” (“Are you the woman who has lost the milk and butter?”) “My mother was very fond of her neighbour, and thinking she might find out on her behalf how the milk might be got back, she answered that she was. The beggar woman said, ‘Ma bheir sibh dhomh lan meise de mhin bheir mise air ais dhuibh e.’ (‘If you will give me a (wooden) dishful of meal I will bring it back to you.’) My mother said that she would give her all that was on the table if she would bring it back, and then ran to the neighbour’s house to tell what she had heard. They returned together and told the beggar woman whose cows really had been ill.” They are said to have been cured. Here also the payment was promised in kind.
A native of Harris tells us of an old man in Stornoway much consulted, who “would undertake for so much money to bring milk and butter back.”
An Islay man gives us “ni a chunnaic mise mi fein” (“a thing I saw my own self”). This was the cure of his father’s cow. A certain George T. “came the way” “b’e duine corr bha ann an Deorsa so, aig an robh moran sgil mu’n chronachaidh.” (“This George was a decent man, he had much skill about cronachadh.”) The cure is described, and the reciter continued: “Cha b’e duine bha’ n an Deorsa a ghabhadh rud sam bith: ’se sin cha ghabhadh e pris airson a sheirbhis ann a leithid so do ni.” (“George was not a man that would take anything for his service in such a thing as this.”) “And my mother said to him, ‘Will you take a cup of tea, George?’ ‘It is I that will,‘ he said, for he had been about the cow a long time. When they were taking the tea they were keeping an eye on the cow now and again. She took a long time that she did not bend down her head, but at last she gave a shake to herself, and George said to my mother, ‘Your cow is right, woman.’ In a little while she gave the next shake, and again the third shake, and with that she was as well as she had ever been.”
THE NECESSITY OF FAITH
A native of Lewis who professed disbelief in the Evil Eye, though she knew numbers who did believe, was advised when her cow was ill to send for a skilled woman. She refused. A woman who was in the habit of assisting when they were busy, being told she might do as she liked, went to the eolas woman. When our reciter, Mrs. McN., looked into the byre shortly afterwards she found the servant girl and the occasional assistant hiding a bottle. “I asked them what they had in the bottle. The woman answered that she had just gone to K. McI. for eolas, and that that was what was in the bottle. They had put it in the cow’s ears and over her back in the name of the Trinity, and the woman remarked that if it would not do good it would do no harm at any rate. I told them again that I did not believe in it at all, and as it turned out I did not need to believe it, for the cow died not long after. But if I did not believe the woman did, and so did the person who had made the eolas, and they maintained that it was because I did not believe in it that it failed to cure the cow, for it is believed the success of eolas a chronachaidh in its attempts to cure depends much upon whether it is believed in or not.”
Compare this with the statement of another reciter, who on hearing of a case of cure said, “When I was herding, one of the cows was air a cronachadh, but the people did not believe in eolas, and if it had not been that some of the neighbours went to A. T. the cow was dead.”
In another case in which the owner of the sick cow said that there was many a thing that might happen to a beast, and that she did not believe that the cow had been hurt by the Evil Eye. A friend persisted in her opinion that it was the Evil Eye, and when the reciter’s mother refused to send for eolas, the woman went off herself and came back with a bottle which she sprinkled on the cow, and in less than an hour the cow was eating as well as ever, and before the water had been put on her she was groaning and would neither eat nor move. The probability is, of course, that if no success had followed the application of the remedy, want of faith on the part of the owner might have been urged as a reason for failure.
PREVENTING EVIL BY BLESSING
A young man who could read and write, the son of a decidedly superstitious father, said if any one were praising another person’s beast, and danger was suspected, because praising by one that has an Evil Eye is dangerous, if the owners say “God bless it” that would prevent any mischief happening.
A native of Bernera (Harris) mentioned as among the ordinary precautions effective against the Evil Eye a person blessing himself. While another mentioned the keeping of ripe rowans (caorain dearg) beside him, or regularly blessing himself and his belongings, as sufficient to prevent any injury coming to him from the Evil Eye or Witchcraft. This blessing seems to have been done in quite a formal way. An old believer who can read Gaelic remembers having seen cattle blessed for the purpose of keeping away evil, and when she was young it was common in the district where she was brought up, when neighbours visited one another, for the visitor on entering the house to bless both the house and the people living in it. In this connection she told the following story: “There was at one time living in the Harris district of Islay a gentleman trained in the knowledge of the ‘Black Art’ (Sgoil Dhubh). He visited the Laird of Balinaby and took from every cow on his estate its due produce (toradh). He and the Laird passed this cow, and the visitor remarked: ‘You have a witch on the estate.’ ‘No,’ said the Laird. ‘Oh yes, there is no doubt of it.’ ‘Well, if there is, it is without my knowledge.’ ‘To whom does that cow belong?’ ‘To a widow that lives in the house over there.’ ‘Well, she must be a witch, for I can take the produce from every cow on the place except that one, but I am beat with her.’”
Balinaby called at the woman’s house and asked her what she did to protect her cow. “I do nothing,” said the woman. “You must do something, for I find that the toradh can be taken from every cow on the farm but yours.” “Well,” said she, “I am a God-fearing woman, and am thankful to have the cow. Every morning I pray that she may be preserved, and when I go to milk her I bless myself and the cow. That is all I do.” This is evidently traditional, and is quoted merely as an evidence of belief in the protection granted to those who audibly place themselves under the protection of the Deity.
It is a curious fact that Balinaby (the Abbot’s Town), bulks very largely in the supernatural folklore of Islay.
A native of Tarbat, Ross-shire, already quoted as telling of a child taken ill because the visitor had not blessed it, details that visitor’s action for the cure of the child, when taxed with the dereliction, as follows. “She asked a bowl from my mother and a silver coin, which she got. She put the coin in the bowl, and going to the bedside where the child was lying, sprinkled the water on the child’s face, and wet her lips and the palms of both her hands. While doing this she blessed the child, repeated some words over it, and in a little while the bairn was quite well and as brisk as ever.”
The materials used in this cure will be considered in more detail, but the blessing was evidently an important part of it to repair a neglect in the first instance.
An old lady in Arran remembers being told of an older generation who, desiring not to injure their own or another’s beast lest there should be evil in their eye unknown to themselves, always took the precaution of blessing the animal before looking at it. The words they used were “Gum beannaicheadh Dia am beathach” (“That God may bless the beast”), or “Gum beannaicheadh Dia an ni air am bheil mo shuil ag amhairc.” (“May God bless the thing my eye is regarding.”)
PREVENTING BY DISPRAISING
The expression of a blessing seems to be merely a preventative, which of course is better than curative, if we accept the general proverb. Another preventative, when the expression of praise seems likely to be hurtful, is to miscall the animal spoken of. A man ploughing, who thought very well of his horses, said to his master on seeing another he knew approaching, “Here comes ——, and he will ruin both the horses if he can, for he has the Evil Eye.” His master said, “I’ll tell you what you will do, and if you do it he can do the horses no harm. When he begins to praise either or both just begin to run them down, and be sure you say as much against them as he shall say for them.” He of the Evil Eye came up, and commencing with “What a fine pair of horses you have,” went on to enumerate their good points. The servant objected that they looked better than they were, that their looks were the best of them, and for every point in their favour the other mentioned, the lad said something to counterbalance it. The other began to show signs of impatience, and went on his way not very well pleased with the way his opinions of the horses had been disputed. “Well done, you have saved the horses,” said his master. “Did I do it right?” said the lad. “Yes, indeed, you could not have said more than you have said.”
A native of Campbeltown is the authority for the following. Mrs. M’F. from Knapdale resided in Glasgow for some time after her marriage. She was standing at the mouth of the close one day with her first child in her arms when a little woman whom she had never seen before, and never saw again, as far as she knows, came across the street, and looking at the child began to praise it for its beauty. Mrs. M’F. had not the presence of mind to praise it above what the other woman said, nor to miscall it. Had she done either it would have prevented mischief. As it was, the child began to cry as soon as the little woman went away. It continued crying for a day and a half, and never was right afterwards. The child died. Mrs. M’F. was quite certain it had been injured by the eye of the little woman.
PREVENTING BY ROWAN AND JUNIPER
Every one knows of the value of the rowan tree as a preventative of witchcraft. It is equally effective apparently against the Evil Eye. It is scarcely worth while dilating on this, but it would not do to neglect it. A resident in the Chanonry had a near neighbour terribly suspicious of interference with her cow. She would never allow a cow away from her own ground until she had first tied a sprig of rowan to its tail.
A native of Kintyre, the opposite side of the country, connects this observance with May Eve, on which occasion it was common to tie a sprig of rowan to the cattle’s tails. Above we have mentioned rowan berries as equally efficacious with a blessing. The rowan is tied to churns as well as to cows’ tails. Another reciter mentions a case in which, along with a bottle, a professor of eolas “went to the back of his house, taking a thin slice of juniper wood (iubhar beinne), which he instructed was to be put between the wood of the churn and one of its hoops.”
Evil Eye in the Western Highlands · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.