A spring of water issuing from the hillside, or from clefts in the rocks—leaping and sparkling, as if in joyance at having from the dark womb of the earth come into the light and freedom of open day—has often been the parent of mystery, of myth, and tradition. The knowledge, common in older times, did not enable the people to see that the spring was merely the outflow by natural gravitation of the rainfall on the more or less distant uplands. The licking up of portions of all the strata through which the water had percolated, and which portions, unseen by the eye, but present in the taste, it now held in solution, was thought to be a natural quality of the particular water. And as ordinary medicines are always associated with unpleasantness of taste, so in waters impregnated with mineral ingredients, the harsher the taste, the greater medicinal properties were attached to them. And the higher temperature of many mineral springs was also considered to be an innate property of the mystical, almost miraculous, particular waters. We now know that this is caused by the waters, in following rifts and fissures in the strata, in their passage to their outlet, having had to descend to lower depths, and being thus warmed by the internal heat of the globe: acquiring one additional degree of temperature for about every seventy feet of descent.

As the old Greeks had in their pantheon of the powers of Nature, Naiads—nymphs of the fountain—so in our older folk-lore the streams had their Kelpies or other guardian spirits. When the Christian Church became paramount, the Catholic Canon of saints and angels took the places of the Teutonic and Scandinavian sprites: each spring was dedicated to, or became the property of, a particular saint; and it was he or she who gave the waters their special qualities.

At some of these holy springs or wells it was customary for ailing persons to go, for the cure of their diseases, on the first Sunday in May; they washed in the streams, and left presents to the tutelar saints; pieces of money were put in the waters, or poor people would place needles and pins, or other small articles, therein. On a hill near Stirling was the well of St. Corbet, to which pilgrimages were thus made. To drink its waters was a safe and easy insurance of life throughout the twelve months ensuing. Up to a hundred years ago crowds of persons—including a large proportion of lads and lasses—came to the blessed well, drinking copious draughts of its waters, but too often mixing these with the strong waters of Kilbagie, of Glenlivat, or other such brand. The wise saint evidently did not approve of this adulteration, for with the practice his well lost its life-preserving reputation.

The waters of the well of St. Fillan, in Strathfillan were supposed to be curative of insanity. The patient was roughly thrown into the pool; he was then taken to the adjoining chapel, and left bound therein during the night; if likely to recover he would be found loose in the morning. Mothers brought their weak and ailing children, bathed them in the well, and as a propitiatory fee to the saint, hung a bit of ribbon, or a scrap of coloured cloth, on the witch-elm which shaded his spring.

At Musselburgh was a well celebrated for its healing virtues, and its powers of insuring good luck. Expectant mothers sent their child-bed linen to be sprinkled by the water, and consecrated by the priest of the adjoining chapel, which was dedicated to our Lady of Loretto. Four hundred years ago it was esteemed the most miraculously gifted shrine in Scotland. King James V. is said to have made a pilgrimage to it from Stirling before he went to France to woo his future queen. If the pilgrimage helped to bring Mary of Guise to Scotland—Scotland had little cause for gratitude therefore!

A well at Muthill, near Crieff, was thought to be a cure for whooping-cough; the waters had to be drank before sunrise, or after sunset, through a cow’s horn. Another well near by had a reputation as curative of madness. A third well was dedicated to St. Patrick; how it came to be so is not easily understood; for the British Priest who became the apostle and tutelary saint of Ireland, had no connection with the district; and yet his day in the calendar was formerly observed there as a holiday.

In Strathnaven is a small loch of supposed healing waters. There was a rigid rule as to the mode of bathing. Persons must walk backwards into the loch; when at sufficient depth they are to immerse themselves—leave a coin—then, without looking round, walk ashore, and so away.

The well of Spa, near Aberdeen, had a high reputation for its medicinal virtues. Its waters were conveyed from the spring by a long white stone, with the images of six apostles carved upon either side thereof. In 1615, Dr. Wm. Barclay, an eminent physician, published a book on the virtues of this well: giving some extraordinary instances of cures from what seemed mortal ailments, by drinking its waters.

The Reformation brought loss of prestige to the old Romish Saints, and the Scottish Kirk is found testifying against pilgrimages to reputed holy wells. The following is an extract from the Presbytery Book of Strathbogie:—“September 14, 1636. Peter Wat summond to this day for going in pilgrimage to the chapell beyond the water of Spey, compeared and confessed his fault. Ordained to make his repentance, and to paye four markes penaltye. Agnes Jack summoned to this daye for going in pilgrimage to the same chapell, compeared, and confessed that she went to the same chapell with ane deseased woman, but gave her great oath that she used no kynd of superstituous worship. She is ordained to make her publike repentance, and to abstaine from the lyke in time coming.”

“Margrat Davidson was adjudget to an unlaw of fyve pounds, for directing her nurs with her bairne to St. Fithak’s well, and washin the bairne thairin for the recovery of her health, and for leaving an offering in the well.”