The Butterfly of Death

Golden Butterfly

In a short note taken down by John Ewen (Iain Eòghann) MacRury of Torlum, Benbecula, the subject of death and its connection with a type of butterfly is mentioned. There are, of course, many different words for the butterfly in Scottish Gaelic, but one of the most common is dealan-dè (sometimes dearbadan-dè, depending on dialect) and another fairly frequent one is amadan-dè. This superstitious belief was probably once common in other areas of the Highlands and Islands as well as in other localities:

The “Dalan De” of golden

colour is considered of
great importance at
the time of death,
If seen after, flying
over the remains, whether
in coffin or shroud it was
supposed the spirit was,
in heaven. There is only
one class of “Dalan De,”
of medium size & of fine
yellowish colour, like gold.
“All the other kinds are of
moss, or other worms,
such as the grub, turning
into flies.

Elsewhere in Carmina Gadelica, Carmichael writes: ‘There are many kinds of Butterfly, but the kind we speak of is not so plentiful. The true Yellow Butterfly is near half an inch in length, and stouter about the body than any other kind, covered with pretty down or plumage, very small about tail—more so than any other kind under the sun. The top of his head is like a king’s crown with a fringe around it. His hue is half-way between fine gold and the white snow of the hill. He is always seen in summer, quiet and peaceful, without heat of flurry, above the corpses of infants and of other good people. It is a good sign to see the Yellow Butterfly upon a corpse or near a corpse. They say that every furrow and streak in his wings and in his head and in his body is exactly the manner of those that were in the sacred corpse and body of the Saviour lying in the linen shroud.’

References:

CW1/45, ff. 13v–14r
Carmina Gadelica, iv, pp. 4–5.

Image: Golden Butterfly.

Latha Fhèill Brìghde – St Bride’s Day

One of the four great quarter-days in the Gaelic calendar is Latha Fhèill Brìghde, or St Bride’s/Brigid’s Day, celebrated on the very first day of February. Alexander Carmichael recorded in a transcription notebook the following anecdote concerning Mrs Major MacLeod, Anne MacLeod (1754–1834), wife of Major MacLeod of Stein, and a daughter of the Highland heroine, Flora MacDonald:

Mrs Major MacLeod a daughter of the celebrated
Flora MacDonald was on a visit to Mr Tolmie
Uiginnish Skye. One day while at breakfast
some person remarked that the day
was La[tha]-fheil[l]-Bri[gh]de St Brigit’s day. On hear-
ing which Mrs Major MacLeod started up
got a stocking put some thing in it pro-
bably a piece of peat and proceeded
to pound it down with a mallet saying as
she did so – La-[tha]-fheil[l]-Bri[gh]de thig ni[gh]ean I[o]mh[a]ir as an toll
Cha bhoin mise do ni[gh]ean I[o]mh[a]ir
’S cha bhoin ni[gh]ean I[o]mh[a]ir rium.”
There is a belief among the old Highlanders that
if the serpent under the name of nighean I[o]mh[a]ir
is pounded in effigy on La[tha] fheil[l] Bri[gh]de the day
on which it is believed it emerges from
its winter retreat it cannot sting that person
during the whole year again.

Elsewhere in Carmina Gadelica, Carmichael has a long entry headed ‘Sloinntearachd Bhride’ (Genealogy of Bride) where he expands upon the subject matter in some detail, an extract from which throws some light upon the above anecdote:

The serpent is supposed to emerge from its hollow among the hills on St Bride’s Day, and a propitiatory hymn was sung to it. Only one verse of this hymn has been obtained, apparently the first. It differs in different localities:–

‘Moch maduinn Bhride,

Thig an nimhir as an toll,

Cha bhoin mise ris an nimhir,

Cha bhoin an nimbhir rium’


Early on Bride’s morn
The serpent shall come from the hole,
I will not molest the serpent,
Nor will the serpent molest me.

Carmichael then offers three different versions of the hymn before explaining that the “‘daughter of Ivor’ is the serpent; and it is said that the serpent will not sting a descendant of Ivor, he having made ‘tabhar agus tuis,’ offering and incense, to it, thereby securing immunity from its sting for himself and his seed for ever.”

References:
CW112/48, fos. 119v–120r.
Carmina Gadelica, i, pp. 164–75; iii, pp. 154–63.
Image: Adder or Rìghinn (one of the its many names in Gaelic).

It’s No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk

Milk Drop

According to John Ewen (Iain Eòghann) MacRury, from Torlum, Benbecula, the old people had a saying which they said whenever some milk had been accidently spilt. The phrase which he gives is: ‘Coma leibh dheth, tha beul feumach a’ feitheamh air’ which may be literally translated as ‘Never you mind, there is a needy mouth waiting for it.’ Given that milk and its derivative products was a staple part of the islanders’ diet, from which they produced many foodstuffs such as cheese, butter, buttermilk, crowdie, cream and so on, it seems that the above phrase reflects their rather philosophical stance: if even only a little was spilt then even that would still not go to waste:

Spilling Milk
In olden times the
Inhabitants of the
Outer Hebrides when
Milk was spilt would
say “Coma libh dheth,
tha bial feumach a
feathamh air,” mean-
ing that there was
a thirsty mouth –
waiting for it somewhere
else, and that the thirsty
party would get the[ir]
thirst quenched.

Reference:
CW 1/60, f. 27r.
Image: Milk Drop.

A Method of Recovering Stolen Goods

John Ewen MacRury (1853–1909)

A remarkable method – which may be termed witchcraft – was said to have been a favoured way in which to claim the recovery of stolen goods. This particular tradition was recorded not by Alexander Carmichael – although he may have been aware of it – but rather by his friend and colleague John Ewen (Iain Eòghann) MacRury of Torlum, Benbecula. Born in Benbecula around 1853, MacRury was nearly twenty years younger than Carmichael. He died in Airdrie Poor House aged fifty-four in 1909. Between 1887 and 1895 he gathered in a great deal of material at the behest of Carmichael who remembered him as: ‘A highly intelligent man, for whose knowledge of old lore I am greatly indebted in this work.’ The following example of his collecting, where the original spelling has been retained, was entitled in the notebook as ‘Togal an Doinis’ or rather ‘Togail an Donais’, which, in other words, was ‘Raising the Devil’. No reciter is noted down from John Ewen – he was a tradition bearer himself – but it is likely that he heard this anecdote from someone in Uist:

This extraordinary stroke
of art in olden times
was very effectual am-
ong the inhabitants of
the North. When anything
was stollen, and no
clear clue attached could be found
to any person in par-
ticular, all under sus-
pission were named out
by the looser to the
party gifted with the
art, their names were
written on parchment
or paper, and if the
party could not write
there was a different
mark for every one
under suspission.
The paper was fould
ed longways, and rub
bed between the pa[l]ms
of his hand, and in
the name of the Dev
il allowed to fall
gently into a basin
or a big bowl full
of cold water. If the
name of the guilty
party was among them
it would go to the
bottom and the rest
would float on
on the surface. Then the party
possessed of the art
was to inform the thief
of what happened and
unless the stolen
property was restored
to the right
ful owner within three days
the whole affair was
proclaimed publicly
and would be compelled
to submit.
They greatly object
ed to the raising of
the D[evil] as several y[ea]rs
famine was
sure to follow in
the township after
that.

References:
CW1, fos. 32r–33.
Carmina Gadelica, ii, p. 381.
Image: John Ewen MacRury (1853–1909). Reproduced with the kind permission of Calum Laing.

Courting in the Kiln

In a fieldwork notebook in which the earliest date of 1871 appears, Alexander Carmichael noted down quite a few items about courting and how young women would go to extreme lengths to find out who their prospective or future husbands might well be. This following story may have been taken down from the recitation of Gilleasbuig Dòmhnallach (Archibald MacDonald), a cobbler from Bailanloch in North Uist on 20th November 1873:

“Co sid shuas air ceann mo ropain” A
girl threw a ball of thread – “ceaisle shnath”
into the soin of the kiln.” Killogie in the
dark. The person who answered to the name
was the man to whom the girl was to be
married.
On one occasion this had a serious effect
A bevy of bright girls were on their way in
the dark to the Kiln to go through this performance
Some young men watched them and got in
to the Kiln before them and one of them into the
Soin-Kilogie. The first girl threw in her
ball of thread and called out Co sid shuas
air ceann an ropain”? Answering a false
voice the young man answered accordingly to the
girls’ wishes. Then another girl as[ke]d the same and
got a satisfactory answer. Then the third girl
threw in her ball and called out “Co sid shuas an
ceann mo ropain”? “I am, the devil, come
to take you away for teaching these goslings my
secrets”! The poor girl got such a fright that
she died from the effects of it soon thereafter.
It was in vain that the young man explained
to her and implored her forgiveness; the mis-
chief was done.

The “Killogie” is a good Scots word meaning the space in front of the fireplace of a kiln. So it seems that a practical joke has gone completely wrong here because of the fatal results. This might well be the moral of the story: to be very wary of playing practical jokes. Or could it be that it was a story told in order to simply warn off any young women who put too much trust in such old-fashioned superstitions? Then, again, perhaps this anecdote is deliberately ambiguous for a good reason: to make the audience think and reflect upon the consequences of their own actions.

Reference:
CW7, fos. 33r-33v

Image: Ball of Thread