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TUTELARY BEINGS
The Glaistig was a tutelary being in the shape of a thin grey (tana glas) little woman, with long yellow hair reaching to her heels, dressed in green, haunting certain sites or farms, and watching in some cases over the house, in others over the cattle. She is called `the Green Glaistig' (a Ghlaistig uaine) from her wan looks and ress of green, the characteristic Fairy colour. She is said to have been a woman of honourable position, a former mistress of the house, who had been put under enchantments and now had a Fairy nature given her. She disliked dogs, and took fools and people of weak intellect under her particular charge. She was solitary in her habits, not more than one, unless when accompanied by her own young one, being found in the same haunt. Her strength was very great, much greater than that of any Fairy, and one yell of hers was sufficient to wake the echoes of distant hills. Strong men were said to have mastered her, but ordinarily people were afraid of meeting her. She might do them a mischief and leave them a token, by which they would have cause to remember the encounter. She made herself generally useful, but in many cases was only mischievous and troublesome.
She seems in all cases to have had a special interest in the cows and the dairy, and to have resented any want of recognition of her services. A portion of milk was set apart for her every evening, in a hole for the purpose in some convenient stone, and unless this was done, something was found amiss in the dairy next morning. Others left milk for her only when leaving the summer pastures for the season.
She was seldom seen, oftenest when anything was to happen to the house she followed. She might then be seen, making her way in the evening up the slope to the castle, herding the cattle on the pastures, sunning herself on the top of a distant rock, or coming to the fold at dusk for her allowance of milk. Her cries, and the noise she made, arranging the furniture, shouting after the cattle, or at the approach of joy or sorrow, was frequently heard.
In the south Highlands, the Glaistig was represented as a little wan woman, stout and not tall, but very strong. In Skye, where most of her duties were assigned to a male deity, the Gruagach, she was sadi to be very tall, `a lath of a body' like a white reflection or shade.
Her name is derived from glas, grey, wan, or pale-green, and stig, a sneaking or crouching object, probably in allusion to her invisibility, noiseless motions, or small size. In the Highland Society's Dictionary, she is called "a she-devil, or hag, in the shape of a goat," and the definition is accepted by M'Leod and Dewar. This, however, is a mistake. The shape of a goat, in the Highlands as elsewhere, has been asigned to the devil only, and there was nothing diabolical, or of the nature of an evil spirit, seeking the perdition of mankind, ascribed to the poor Glaistig. She occupied a middle position between the Fairies and mankind; she was not a Fairy woman (Bean shith) but one of human race, who had a Fairy nature given to her. The Fairies themselves are much nearer in character to the race of man than to that of devils. Of course all unearthly beings are to be avoided, but of all the beings, with which fear or fancy has peopled the unseen world, the Glaistig and her near relation the Brownie are among the most harmless.
The house or castle-haunting Glaistig was also known by the names of Maighdean sheombair, i.e. chamber-maid., Gruagach, young woman, lit. long-haired one, and Gruagach sheombair, `fille de chambre', and her attachment was not to the family but to the site or stance (larach). It was always the abodes of the affluent in which she resided, and she continued her occupancy after a change of tenants, and even after the building was deserted and had become a nesting place for wild birds. In olden times there was a perpetuity of tenure enjoyed by large tenants, and it is not surprising that writers have fallen into the mistake of supposing the tutelary guardian of the house to be that of its tenants. The Glaistig had sympathy with the tenant so far, that she broke out into loud expressions of joy or sorrow, or made her appearance more frequently when happiness or misfortune were to come upon the family; but her real attachment was to the building or site. Indeed, none of these beings of superstition were tutelary to the human race, or had anything about them of the character of the Genius or [GREEK WORD]. When the house was to be levelled, even though the family remained on the land, and a new hous e(on another site) was built, the Glaistig made a lamentable outcry, left, and was never afterwards seen or heard. Her usual occupation consisted in "putting things in order" at night, sweeping the floor, drawing chairs and tables about, and arranging the furniture. After the household had retired to rest, she was heard at work in apartments that were locked, and in which no human being could be. It was then known there would shortly be an arrival of strangers. In the morning the furniture was found in most cases untouched or disarranged. In other cases the house was found tidied up, and work which had been left for the Glaistig, such as washing, was found finished. She was fond of working with the spinning wheel, and, according to some, it was to prevent her coming to the house, and working with it on Sundays that old women were careful to take off the band every Saturday night. She had a similar fondness for working with tradesmen's tools, and artizans were often much annoyed at hearing her working at nightm and finding in the morning their tools spoiled or mislaid. When the servants neglected their work or spoke disrespectfully of herself, or did anything to her favourites, she played pranks to punish them. She knocked down the wter-stoups, disarranged the bedclothes, put dust in the meat, led the objects of her resentment a fool's chase about the house, or in the dark gave them a slap to be remembered on the side of the head. When happiness or misfortune, a marriage or a death, was to occur in the household, she was heard rejoicing or wailing long before the event occurred.
A weaver, going home in the evening with a web (corn) of cloth on his shoulder, was met by a Glaistig at a stream. She caught hold of him and pummelled him (lad i e) all night in the stream with his own web of cloth, saying to all his remonstrances, "Weaving weaver, you are better of being washed" (Figheadair fighe, 's fhearrd' thu do nigheadh).
The Glaistig of Ardnacaillich, the residence of the Macquarries of Ulva, used to be heard crying "Ho-ho! ho-ho! Macquarries' cattle are in the standing corn near the cave! The bald girl has slept! the bald girl has slept! ho-ho, ho-ho." The `bald girl' was no doubt a reference to her own plentiful crop of hair.
The common of this Island is called Staonnaigh; and in former times the cattle of the east and west end people of the place came to it in summer for fourteen days alternately. In those days a Glaistig stayed in a hole of the rocks in Staonnaig, and the people, when at the summer pastures (airidh) poured milk every night in a stone for her. She once entered ona very rainy day a house where there was a woman of the name of Livingstone alone and at dinner. She dried herself at the fire, holding her clothes spread out, and turning round from side to side. Her clothes took fire, and she left as her parting gift, that no fire can be kindled at dinner-time by a woman of the name of Livingstone.
Gruagach, i.e. long-haired one, from gruag, a wig, is a common Gaelic name for a maiden, a young woman. In old tales and poems, particularly those relating to the times of Murchard Mac Brian, who was king of Ireland circ. A.D. 1100, the term means a chief or some person of consequence, probably a young chief. Thus, in a conversation between the king and a young woman, whose nine silk-clad brothers he had killed in battle, she says:
"I am a daughter of the heir of Dublin,
I would not hide it, lords of swords,
And to the Gruagach of the Isle of Birds,
I, in truth, bore my children."
("Inghean oighre Bhaile-cliath
Cha cheilinn a thriath nan lann,
'S do Ghruagach Eilein nan eun,
'S ann a rug mi feinn mo chlann.")
The name evidently refers to the length of the hair, which it seems to have been a custom in ancient times for men of rank and freemen to allow to grow long.
The term Brunaidh, signifying a supernatural being, haunting the abodes of the affluent and doing work for the servants, seems to have made its way into the Highlands only in recent times and along with south country ideas. It is generally applied only to a big, corpulent, clumsy man, `a fine fat fodget wight', and in many district has no other reference. Its derivation is Teutonic and not Celtic, and Brownies are mostly heard of in place to which, as in the south of Argyllshire, southern ideas have penetrated, or where, as in the Orkneys and Shetland, a Teutonic race is settled.
In the islet of Cara, on the west of Cantyre, the old house, once belonging to the Macdonalds, was haunted by a Brownie that drank milk, made a terrific outcry when hurt, and disliked the Campbell race. In the old castle of Largie, on the opposite coast of Cantyre, which belonged to the same Macdonalds, there was also a Brownie, supposed to be the same as the Cara one. Since the modern house was built Brownie has not been seen or heard. In Cara he is still occasionally heard. It is not known exactly what he is like, no one having ever seen more than a glimpse of him. Before the arrival of strangers he put the house in order. He disliked anything dirty being left in the house for the night. Dirty bed-clothes were put out by him before morning. Dogs had to be put outside at night, as he often killed those left in the house. He was much addicted to giving slaps in the dark to those who soiled the house; and there are some still alive who can testify to receiving a slap that left their faces black. He tumbled on the floor water-stoups left full over-night. A man was lifted out of bed by him, and found himself `bare naked', on awakening, at the fire. A woman, going late in the evening for her cows,found Brownie had been before her, and tied them securely in the barn.
In one of the castles in the center of Argyllshire, Brownie came to the bedside of a servant woman who had retired for the night, arranged the clothes, and, pulling them above her, said: "Take your sleep, poor creature" (dean cadal, a chreutair). He then went away.
In character Brownie was harmless, but he made mischief unless every place was left open at night. He was fed with warm milk by the dairy-maid.
A native of the Shetland Isles writes me that Brownie was well known in that locality. He worked about the barn, and at night ground with the handmill for those to whom he was attached. He could grind a bag or two of grain in a night. He was once rewarded for his labours by a cloak and hood left for him at the mill. The articles were away in the morning, and Brownie never came back. Hence the bye-word, such a man is like Brownie,
"When he got his cloak and hood, He did no more good."
The same story is told of the `Cauld Lad of Hilton,' in the valley of the Wear in England (Keightley's Fairy Myth, p. 296), of Brownies in the Scottish Lowlands (p. 358), and of one in Strathspey (p. 395), who said, when he went away--
"Brownie has got a coat and cap, Brownie will do no more work."
It also made its way to Tiree, and was there told as follows:
In the Highlands of Perthsire, previous to the '45, each farm or village had its own bodachan sabhaill, `the little old man of barn', who helped to thresh the corn, made up the straw into bundles, and saw that everything was kept in order. These Brownies had the appearance of old men and were very wise. They worked always at night, and were never mischievous, but highly useful.
The Glaisein (lit. grey-headed man) of the Isle of Man bears a strong resemblance to them. He was very strong, frequented farms, threshed corn, and went to the sheep-folds (Campbell's West Highland Tales, Introd. liii.).
The oldest member of the family is the Lar Familiaris of the Romands. There is a noticeable resemblance between lar, the Romand household deity, and larach (from lar, the ground), the Gaelic for the stance or site of a building, to which, and not to the teants, the Celtic household apparition attached itself. The lares of the Romands were the departed spirits of ancestors, which were believed to watch over their dependents. The Glaistig was held to have been a woman of honourable position, a former mistress of the house, the interests of the tenants of which she now attended to. Small waxen images of the lares, clothed with the skin of a dog, were placed in the hall. The Glaistig had the Fairy aversion to dogs (an aversion which was reciprocal), but many of the actions ascribed to her savour strongly of her being in some way identical with the herdsman's dogs. This would very well explain the pouring of milk for her in the evening in the hollow of a stone. The Glaistig of Ardnadrochit had the shape of a dog (see here).
A satisfactory explanation of the origin of the superstition does not readily suggest itself. In days when men did not know what to believe in regarding the spirit world, and were ready to believe anything, a fancy may have arisen, that it secures the wefare of a house, and adds to its dignity, to have a supernatural being attached to it and looking after its interests. It had its origins after the tribes, among whom it is to be found, ceased to be roving and unsettled barbarians. In a large establishment a being of the kind was very useful. The master would not discredit its existence, as it helped to frighten idle and stupid servants into attending to their work and into clean and tidy habits. Shrewd servants would say as little against it when it served so well to screen their own knavery or faults, and to impose on a credulous and facile, or careless master. Unless it was sometimes seen or heard, or some work was mysteriously done, the delusion, either of master or servant, could not be long continued; and, when men have little else to do, there are many who take a pleasure in imposing on their more imple-minded fellows, and are quite ready, as much from sport as interest, to carry on a delusion of the kind. Besides, when the mind is nervously anxious, engrossed with the fear of a coming misfortune or the hope of a coming joy, it is apt to listen to the whispers of fancy and the confidently-told tales of others. When it broods alone, during the sleepless night, over the future it is not surprising if the imagination converts the weird sounds of night--the melancholy moaning of the wind, its fitful gusts in the woods and round the house, the roar of the waterfall, the sound of the surf-beaten shore, and many noises, of which the origin is at the time unknown and unsought--into the omens of that which makes itself sleepless, or hears in them the song of the house spirit, prescient of the coming event. It must also be remembered that there are people who will see and hear anything if their story is believingly listened to, and they are themselves at times objects of interest.
Pennant (Tour, p. 330) says Brownie was stout and blooming, had fine long flowing hair, and went about with a switch in his hand. He cleaned the house, helped to churn, threshed the corn, and belaboured those who pretended to make a jest of him. He says (p. 331) the Gruagach was in form like the Brownie, and was worshipped by libations of milk; and "milkmaids still retain the custom of pouring some on certain stones, that bear his name." He is thought, it is added, to be an emblem of Apollo and identical with [SOME GREEK].
Mr. Campbell (Tales of the West Highlands, I. xciii.) supposes the Gruagach of superstition to be a Druid fallen from his high estate, and living on milk left for him by those whose priests he had once been. In another place (ii. 101) he supposes him to be a half-tamed savage, hanging about the house, with his long hair and skin clothing.
These explanations are not satisfactory. The character, dress, and actions ascribed to the Gruagach and his congeners are incongrous to the idea of Druid, heathen deity, or savage wild or reclaimed.