Chapter VI · THE CELTIC YEAR. (continued 2)

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:

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).

This, as might be expected, was not deemed a lucky day to begin work upon. It was not deemed of much consequence whether ploughing began or not, but the manufacture of cloth should on no account be begun. “The warp prepared on Saturday will have the delay of the seven Saturdays upon it” (An rud theid a dheilbh Di-Sathuirne, bi stad nan seachd Sathurn’ air). No spinning was to be done after sunset, but other work might proceed as usual. All work should stop at 9 p.m. It is still considered a bad thing among the old people in Kintail to work past that hour.

There is a man in Tiree who will not allow a newly-engaged servant to come home to enter on his service on Saturday. On one occasion, when the term-day happened to be Saturday, he persuaded the servant man to come on Friday, though only to stand in the house for a few minutes, that the evil omen might be averted.

New moon on Saturday was deemed a presage of stormy weather. “Saturday light goes seven times mad before it goes out” (Solus Sathurna gabhaidh e na seachd cuthaich mun d’ theid e mach).

An evil wish is “The end of the seven Saturdays be upon you” (Deire nan seachd Sathurn’ ort), Macintosh’s Prov., p. 78; and in Cowal it is a vicious saying of one woman to another, “Worse than that will come upon you, the disease of the seven Saturdays will come upon you” (Thig na ’s miosa na sin ort, thig galar nan seachd Sathurn’ ort).

The objection to removing on Saturday has been already mentioned under Monday.[78] The same objection is entertained in Ireland.

The end of the week is very grateful to the labouring man. “Alas! and alas! is Monday, but my love is Saturday” (och is och! Di-luain, ach ’s e mo luaidh Di-Sathuirne).

WEATHER WISDOM, ETC.

Expressions denoting high wind are: “the blowing of hillocks out of their places” (seideadh nan cnoc), “a wind to take the tails off horses” (Bheireadh i na h-earbuill bhar nan each), and “blow the barn over the house” (chuir an t-sabhuill thar an tighe); heavy rain takes “pieces out of the ground” (mìrean as an talamh), and gives “milk to the whales” (bainne do na muca mara), it being supposed that in heavy rain whales lie on the surface to cool themselves; heavy snow “confines the infirm to their cots” (chròdhadh e na giùigirean), strong robust men can go about their business. A dead calm is called “the calm of birds” (fia’ nan ian); on days when not a hair is moved by the wind, and the sea is unruffled, the young fry of fish come to the surface, and sea-birds, themselves also conspicuous in such weather, can look about them for their prey.

The first breath of wind after a calm comes from the south, hence “When the wind is lost look for it in the south” (Nuair a bhios gaoth air chall iarr a deas i). After a heavy fall of rain the wind comes west, as is told in the saying, “West wind after fat rain” (Gaoth ’n iar ’n déigh uisge reamhar). If frost comes on, when rivers and pools are swollen, and the ground is very wet, it does not last long; “the freezing of the full pool does not rest long” (reodhadh an lodain làin, cha mhair e fada). The heaviest rain comes from the north (or rather north-east), and the longest drought from the south; “there is no rain but from the north, or lasting dry weather but from the south” (Cha-n uisge ach o’n tuath, ’s cha turadh buan ach o’n deas). The frequency with which the violence of the wind moderates after a shower of rain has given rise to the proverb “after wind comes rain” (an déigh gaoth mhor thig uisge), to denote that after loud merriment and laughter come sorrow and the cares brought by reflection. “It is north wind that dissipates mist” (’s i gaoth tuath sgaoileas ceò); “the first day of south wind, and the third day of north wind” (chiad latha de ’n ghaoth deas ’s an treas latha de ’n ghaoth tuath), i.e. they are moderate then, and are best for crossing ferries on. “A speckled chequered summer makes a white, sunny harvest” (ni samhradh breac riabhach fogharadh geal grianach). The south-west, being the direction from which rain commonly comes, is known in the Hebrides as “Cachlaidh na Buigeuisg,” the gateway of soft weather.

THE MOON.

Both the sun (a Ghrian) and moon (a Ghealach) are feminine in Gaelic, and the names are simply descriptive of their appearance. There is no trace of a Sun-God or Moon-Goddess. The root gr in Grian denotes horrent or bristling, and alludes to the sun’s rays. It is said by some writers, that the name is connected with Apollo Grannua, but the connection is a mere accidental similarity in the initial letters. The root gr, denoting what is streaming or bristling, occurs in gruag, a wig, flowing hair; greann, a surly look, a bristling of the hair as on an enraged dog; grāin, aversion, from the turning up of nose and stomach and bristling appearance of one much disgusted, so abhorrence, etc. Gealach, the moon, is from geal, white. The names luan, easga, or easgann are given in dictionaries, but have disappeared from common use. With the former is supposed to be connected luaineach, restless, and luaisg, to move. R’ denotes any planet.

The moment the moon begins to increase is called gob soillse (lit. the bill or beak of the light). The height of the tide, which follows his changes, is bolg reothairt (lit. the swollen womb of spring tide). The moon’s increase is fās, and when waning she is san earra-dhubh (lit. in her black boundaries).[79]

At the instant the moon begins to increase, (air gob na gealaiche) the horns of cows are loose on their pith (slabhagan), and may be pulled off and stuck on again. It is told that a dispute having arisen on one occasion as to the correctness of an almanac, about the moon’s change, the old man who raised the question proved himself to be in the right by turning round and drawing the horn from one of his cows, as a sheath is taken from a knife, and sticking it on again. The story is told of a man who lived in Sconser, Isle of Skye, of more than one person in Tiree, and was doubtless told of people in various places.

It was said that there is never any north wind at gob gealaich.

The first time an unmarried person sees the new moon, he should stoop down and lift whatever meets his hand. If, on taking it to the light, any hair be found among it, its colour will prove to be that of the future husband or wife. It is unlucky to see the new moon for the first time when washing one’s hands, or with the hand on the face.

In olden times great regard was paid to the increase and wane of the moon. Garden seeds, as onions, kail, etc., if sown in the increase, ran to seed, but if sown in the wane, grew as pot-herbs. Withies or slender twigs (Caol) intended for creels and baskets were cut only in the wane. Twigs cut in the increase proved brittle. Trees cut in the increase were believed to bud again, but not those cut in the wane. Eggs laid during the wane were preserved for hatching, rather than those laid during the increase. Hens came from the former; cocks from the latter. Birds hatched in the increase were deemed difficult to rear, and it was doubtful if any of them would ultimately survive. Hence Eòin an fhàs, birds of the increase, is a name given to weakly pining children. They are worthless for hatching.

Many would not cut (i.e. castrate) an animal, calf, or foal, or pig, during the increase of the moon, and it was a belief that cows seek the bull only in the first and third quarters of the moon, and never at neap tides. A man in Islay pretended to tell, from the time the cow paid her visit to the bull, whether her offspring would prove a bull-calf or a cow-calf. If in the first quarter, the former; if in the wane, the latter.

The second moon in autumn, the harvest moon, or first after the autumnal equinox, was variously known as Gealach an abachaidh, “the ripening moon,” from a belief that crops ripen as much by it as they do during the day; Gealach bhuidhe nam broc, “the badger’s yellow moon,” these wary animals being engaged, it was said, in taking home their winter supplies; Gealach an t-sealgair, “the hunter’s moon”; and the last moon in harvest, extending for a month before Hallowmas (Samhain). The first of winter was known as Gealach a ruadhain, “the reddening moon,” during which vegetation grew as much by night as in the day.

It was said there was no north wind at the exact period of the appearance of new moon (gob gealaich).