Death has always been deemed the greatest evil that afflicts humanity, and the terrors and awe which its advent inspires have given superstition its amplest scope. The “King of Terrors” no doubt throws its shadows before it, but that foreshadowing belongs to medical diagnosis. The superstition connected with it consists in making unusual appearances and natural phenomena, having no relation to it beyond an accidental proximity in time, forerunners of its dread approach. The mind loves to dwell on the circumstances connected with the death of a departed and dear friend, and amid a sparse population, death is not an event of that frequency and daily occurrence which make it to the townsman little heeded, till it affects himself and his friends. Besides, doubt and scepticism are not spontaneous in the human mind, and whenever any one states positively that he saw supernatural indications connected with the death or spirit of one departed, he naturally and readily finds credence. By being frequently told the tale becomes more and more certain, and traditions, once they have attained the rank of beliefs, are very slow in dying out. That the excitable and imaginative mind of the Celt should, therefore, have a firm belief in supernatural fore-warnings of death is not at all surprising.

Certain families and septs had death-warnings peculiar to themselves, and whenever any of them was on his death-bed, particularly when the death of a chief was at hand, some one about the house was sure to see or hear the warning. Before the death of any of the Breadalbane family, the descendants of Black Duncan of the Cowl (Donncha du a churraichd), a bull was heard at night roaring up the hillside. The bellowing grew fainter as it ascended the mountain, and died away as it reached the top. The origin of this superstition probably is, that Black Duncan is accused of having once had a bull’s head brought in at a feast as a signal for the massacre of a number of the M’Gregors, whom he had invited in a friendly manner to the castle. The clan Maclachlan were warned of death by the appearance of a little bird; a sept of the M’Gregors, known as the children or descendants of Black Duncan (Clann Dhonncha dhui), by a whistle; another family of the same clan, “the children of little Duncan” (Clann Dhonncha bhig), by a light like that of a candle. Other signals were shouting (sgairt), cries of distress, screaming (sgriachail), sounds of weeping, etc. When any of them foreboded death, it was heard where no human being could be, and there was an unearthly tone about it that struck a chill into the hearer’s heart.

Before the death of a duine wassal (duin uasal, a gentleman), a light or meteor called Dreag or rather Driug, was seen in the sky proceeding from the house to the grave in the direction in which the funeral procession was to go. It was only for ‘big men,’ people of station and affluence, that these lights appeared, and an irreverent tailor once expressed a wish that the whole sky were full of them.

HUGH OF THE LITTLE HEAD (Eoghan a chinn bhig).

This was the best known and most dreadful spectre in the West Highlands, the phantom of a headless horseman, which made its appearance whenever any of the Maclaines of Lochbuy, in Mull, were near their dissolution. The spectral horseman is mounted on a small black steed, having a white spot on its forehead, and the marks of the hoofs of which are not like those of other horses, but round indentations as if it had wooden legs. Whenever any of the sept which he follows are on their death-bed Hugh is heard riding past the house, and sometimes even shows himself at the door. He does not sit straight on his horse’s back, but somewhat to one side, and the appearance of the almost headless body is that of a water-stoup tied on the horse’s back. The history of the man who is thus doomed to attend at the death of any of his clan is curious. Tradition is not always uniform on the subject, but the following statement reconciles most of the accounts and substantially agrees with them all.

Hugh was the only son of Hector the Stubborn (Eachunn Reuganach), first chief of Lochbuy, in the fourteenth century, and brother of Lachlan the Wily (Lachunn LÙbanach), first chief of Dowart. He got the name of “Hugh of the Little Head” in his lifetime, and from the actions ascribed to him fully bears his own testimony to the truth of the adage, “A big head on a wise man and a hen’s head on a fool” (Ceann mor air duine glic ’s ceann circ avi amadan). Sayings of his, which tradition has preserved, illustrate the curious shrewdness sometimes found in connection with limited intellect. Thus, when his mother was being carried for burial, he thought the pall-bearers were carrying the body too high, and he told them not to raise her so high, “in case she should seek to make a habit of it” (mu ’m bi i ’g iarraidh a chleachdaidh), and the phrase has since continued, “to seek to make a habit of anything, like Hugh of the Little Head’s mother.” He was married to a daughter of the house of Macdougall of Lorn; and she proved but a very indifferent wife. Tradition ascribes to her several nicknames, all of them extremely opprobrious, “The Black-bottomed Heron” (Chorra thÒn du), “Stingy, the Bad Black Heron” (Gortag, an droch chorra dhu), “The Macdougall Heron” (Curra DhÙghaill), and Dubhag tÒn ri teallaich. He was a fearless soldier, and altogether a very likely person to have been made a wandering spectre of after his death.

Lochbuy first belonged to the Macfadyens. Maclaine (so the family spell the name) having obtained a grant of the place from the Lord of the Isles, deceitfully asked Macfadyen for a site for a sheep-fold (crÒ chaoraich), and, having obtained a hillock for the purpose, proceeded to build a castle. When the place was sufficiently fortified he shot an arrow from it at Macfadyen, who sat at some distance picking bones (spioladh chnÀmh) at his dinner. In the end Macfadyen had to leave his own land and go to Garmony (Gar’moin’ an fhraoich), where he supported himself by coining gold, gathered in Beinn an Aoinidh, Mull, whence his descendants became known as “the Seed of the Goldsmith’s” (SiÒlachadh nan Òr-cheard). After this Lochbuy and Dowart quarrelled. The properties of the two brothers adjoined, and between them lay a piece of ground, the ownership of which they disputed. A ploughman belonging to Lochbuy was ploughing on the debateable ground, when a friend of Dowart, who was out hunting, shot him. Sometime after this Dowart’s two boys were on a visit to Lochbuy, whose wife, being a relative of the murdered ploughman, went a piece of the way home with the children, and at a well, since called “The Well of the Heads” (Tobar nan ceann), took off their heads and threw them into the well, leaving the bodies on the bank. For this foul deed a deadly feud sprang up between the two houses, and Hugh’s wife, being a foster-sister (co-dhalta) of Dowart’s wife, did not care though her husband and the house of Lochbuy should be worsted.

This feud, joined to the other grievances of the “Crane,” led to there being so little peace at Lochbuy that the old chief gave Hugh a separate establishment, and allotted to him the lands of Morinish. Hugh built himself a castle on an islet in Loch Sguabain, a small lake between Lochbuy and Dowart. His wife urged him to go and get the rights (cÒiricheaa), i.e. the title deeds, of the lands of Lochbuy, or perhaps to go and get more, from his father, and at last he went. It was explained to him that on his father’s death he would have a right to the whole property, and he went away pacified. His wife, however, urged that it would be a small thing for Lachlan the Wily, his father’s brother, to come and take from him everything he had. He went again, an altercation ensued, and he struck his aged father a violent blow on the side of the head. This came to the ears of the old man’s brother, the chief of Dowart. Glad of an excuse to cut off the heir presumptive and make himself master of Lochbuy, and gratify his desire for revenge, Dowart collected his men and marched to take Hugh to some place of confinement or kill him. Hugh collected his own men and prepared to give battle.

Early on the morning of the fight, others say the evening before, Hugh was out walking, and at the boundary stream (allt crÌche) saw an Elfin woman rinsing clothes, and singing the “Song of the M’Leans.”[28] Her long breasts, after the manner of her kind (according to the Mull belief regarding these weird women), hung down and interfered with her washing, and she now and then flung them over her shoulders to keep them out of the way. Hugh crept up silently behind her, and catching one of the breasts, as is recommended in such cases, put the nipple in his mouth, saying, “Yourself and I be witness you are my first nursing mother.” She answered, “The hand of your father and grandfather be upon you! You had need that it is so.” He then asked her what she was doing. She said, “Washing the shirts of your mortally-wounded men” (Nigheadh leintean nam fir ghointe agad-sa), or (as others say) “the clothes of those who will mount the horses to-morrow and will not return” (aodach nam fear theid air na h-eich a mÀireach ’s nach till). He asked her, “Will I win the fight?” She answered that if he and his men got “butter without asking” (Im gun iarraidh) to their breakfast, he would win; if not, he would lose. He asked if he himself would return alive from the battle (an d’thig mise as beÒ?), and she either answered ambiguously or not at all; and when going away left him as her parting gift (fagail) that he should go about to give warning of approaching death to all his race. The same morning he put on a new suit, and a servant woman coming in just as he had donned it, praised it, and said, “May you enjoy and wear it” (Meal is caith e). It was deemed unlucky that a woman should be the first to say this, and Hugh replied to the evil omen by saying, “May you not enjoy your health” (Na na meal thusa do shlÀinte).

For breakfast, “Stingy, the Black Heron,” sent in curds and milk in broad dishes. She did not even give spoons, but told Hugh and his men to put on hen’s bills (gobun cheare) and take their food. Hugh waited long to see if any butter would come, rubbing his shoes together impatiently, saying now and then it was time to go, and giving every hint he could that the butter might be sent in. At last he threw his shoe down the house, exclaiming, “Neither shoes nor speech will move a bad housewife” (Cha ghluais brÒg no bruidhinn droch bhean tighe), and demanding the butter. “Send down the butter, and you may eat it yourself to-morrow” (cuir anuas an t-Ìm, ’s feudaidh tu fhein itheadh a mÀireach). She retorted, “The kicker of old shoes will not leave skin upon palm” (Cha’n fhÀg breabadair na seana-bhrÒig craicionn air dearnaidh). When the butter came, Hugh said he did not want her curds or cheese to be coming in white masses through his men’s sides (tighinn na staoigean geala roi’ chliathach nam fear aige), kicked open the milk-house door and let in the dogs, and went away, leaving the breakfast untouched. The fight took place at Onoc nan Sgolb, at the back of Innsri (cÙl na h-Innsribh), near Ceann a Chnocain, and not far from Torness in Glenmore. As might be expected of fasting men, Hugh and his followers lost the fight. The sweep of a broadsword took off the upper part of his head (copan a chinn). Instead of falling dead, he jumped on the top of his horse, a small black steed with a white spot on its forehead, and ever since is “dreeing his weird” by going about to give warning when any of his race are about to die.[29]

The ghostly rider of the black horse (marcaich an eich dhui), crosses the seas in discharging his task. When coming to Tiree (where there are now but two or three persons claiming to be of the sept of the Lochbuy Maclaines), he takes his passage from Port-nan-amhn’ near Ru-an-t-slÉibh, in Treshinish, Mull. About fifty years ago a Mull woman, living there, insisted that she had often, when a young woman, heard him galloping past the house in the evening and had seen the sparks from his horse’s hoofs as he rode down to the shore on his way to Tiree.

It is told of an old man of the Lochbuy Macleans in Tiree, that on his death-bed the noise of a horse clanking a chain after it, was heard coming to the house. Thinking it was Hugh of the Little Head, he said, “The rider of the Black Horse is clanking on his own errand” (straoilich air ceann a ghnothuich fhein). On looking out the awe-struck company found the noise was caused by a farm-horse dragging a chain tether (langasaid) after it.

On the high road between Calachyle and Salen in Mull, a strong man of the name of Maclean was met at night by Hugh. The horseman spake never a word, but caught Maclean to take him away. Maclean resisted, and in the struggle caught hold of a birch sapling and succeeded in holding it till the cock crew. The birch tree was twisted in the struggle, and one after another of its roots gave way. As the last was yielding the cock crew. The twisted tree may still be seen. The same story is told of a twisted tree near Tobermory, and a similar one is localised between Lochaber and Badenoch.[30]

Other premonitions of death were the howling of dogs, the appearance of lights, loud outcries and sounds of weeping, apparitions of the doomed person’s “fetch,” or coffin, or funeral procession, etc. These sounds and appearances were more apt to precede an accidental and premature death, such as drowning, and to understand them properly it will be necessary to enter into an examination of the doctrine of the Second Sight.