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C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 1 of 7

Chapter 9: Classes: A Deeper Look; Throwing Exceptions

Section 9.2 Time Class Case Study: Separating Interface from Implementation

9.2 Q1: Member access specifiers (public and private) can appear:
a. In any order and multiple times.
b. In any order (public first or private first) but not multiple times.
c. In any order and multiple times, if they have brackets separating each type.
d. Outside a class definition.
ANS: a. In any order and multiple times.

9.2 Q2: Which of the following preprocessor directives does not constitute part of the preprocessor wrapper?
a. #define
b. #endif
c. #ifndef
d. #include
ANS: d. #include

9.2 Q3: Member function definitions:

a. Always require the scope resolution operator (::).
b. Require the scope resolution operator only when being defined outside of the definition of their class.
c. Can use the scope resolution operator anywhere, but become public functions.
d. Must use the scope resolution operator in their function prototype.
ANS: b. Require the scope resolution operator only when being defined outside of the definition of their class.

9.2 Q4: Parameterized stream manipulator setfill specifies the fill character that’s displayed when an output is
displayed in a field wider than the number of characters or digits in the output. The effect of setfill applies:
a. Only to the current value being displayed.
b. Only to outputs displayed in the current statement.
c. Until explicitly set to a different setting.
d. Until the output buffer is flushed.
ANS: c. Until explicitly set to a different setting.

9.2 Q5: Every object of the same class:

a. Gets a copy of every member function and member variable.
b. Gets a copy of every member variable.
c. Gets a copy of every member function.
d. Shares pointers to all member variables and member functions.
ANS: b. Gets a copy of every member variable.

9.2 Q6: A class’s functions can throw exceptions, such as __________to indicate invalid data.
a. invalid_data
b. bad_data
c. invalid_argument
d. bad_argument
ANS: c. invalid_argument

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 2 of 7

Section 9.3 Compilation and Linking Process

9.3 Q1: Which of the following statements is false (assume we're referring to class Time)?
a.Often a class’s interface and implementation will be created and compiled by one programmer and used by a
separate programmer who implements the client code that uses the class.
b. To hide the class’s member-function implementation details, the class-implementation programmer would
provide the client-code programmer with the header Time.h (which specifies the class’s interface and data
members) and the Time object code (i.e., the machine-code instructions that represent Time’s member functions).
c. The client-code programmer is not given Time.cpp, so the client remains unaware of how Time’s member
functions are implemented.
d. The client-code programmer needs to know only Time’s interface to use the class and must be able to link its
object code.
ANS: a. A class’s interface and implementation must be created and compiled the programmer who
implements the client code that uses the class. Actually, often a class’s interface and implementation will be
created and compiled by one programmer and used by a separate programmer who implements the client
code that uses the class.

9.3 Q2: Which of the following statements is false (ssume we're referring to class Time)?
a. Since the interface of the class is part of the class definition in the Time.h header, the client-code programmer
must have access to this file and must #include it in the client’s source-code file.
b. When the client code is compiled, the compiler uses the class definition in Time.h to ensure that the main
function creates and manipulates objects of class Time correctly.
c. The linker’s output is the executable Time application that users can execute to create and manipulate a Time
object.
d. Compilers and IDEs typically invoke the linker for you after compiling your code.
ANS: d. Compilers and IDEs typically invoke the compiler for you after linking your code. Actually,
compilers and IDEs typically invoke the linker for you after compiling your code.

Section 9.4 Class Scope and Accessing Class Members

9.4 Q1: Variables defined inside a member function of a class have:

a. File scope.
b. Class scope.
c. Block scope.
d. Class or block scope, depending on whether the binary scope resolution operator ( ::) is used.
ANS: c. Block scope.

9.4 Q2: A class-scope variable hidden by a block-scope variable can be accessed by preceding the variable name
with the class name followed by:
a. ::
b. :
c. .
d. ->
ANS: a. ::

Section 9.5 Access Functions and Utility Functions

9.5 Q1: The type of function a client would use to check the balance of a bank account would be:
a. A utility function.
b. A predicate function.
c. An access function.
d. A constructor.
ANS: c. an access function.

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 3 of 7

9.5 Q2: Utility functions:

a. Are private member functions that support operations of the class’s other member functions.
b. Are part of a class’s interface.
c. Are intended to be used by clients of a class.
d. Are a type of constructor.
ANS: a. Are private member functions that support operations of the class’s other member functions.

Section 9.6 Time Class Case Study: Constructors with Default Arguments

9.5 Q1: A default constructor:

a. Is a constructor that must receive no arguments.
b. Is the constructor generated by the compiler when no constructor is provided by the programmer.
c. Does not perform any initialization.
d. Both (a) and (b).
ANS: d. Both (a) and (b).

9.6 Q2: If a member function of a class already provides all or part of the functionality required by a constructor or
another member function then:
a. Copy and paste that member function’s code into this constructor or member function.
b. Call that member function from this constructor or member function.
c. That member function is unnecessary.
d. This constructor or member function is unnecessary.
ANS: b. Call that member function from this constructor or member function.

9.6 Q3[C++11]: Assuming the following constructor is provided for class Time

explicit Time(int = 0, int = 0, int = 0);

which of the following is not a valid way to initialize a Time object?

a. Time t1;
b. Time t2{22, 40};
c. Time t3(22, 40);
d. a), b) and c) are all valid ways to initialize a Time object.
ANS: d. (a), (b) and (c) are all valid ways to initialize a Time object.

9.6 Q4[C++11]: Which of the following statements is false?

a. You can overload a classes constructors.
b. There is no mechanism in C++ for a constructor to call another constructor in the same class.
c. Just as a constructor can call a class’s other member functions to perform tasks, C++11 allows constructors to call
other constructors in the same class.
d. To overload a constructor, provide in the class definition a prototype for each version of the constructor, and
provide a separate constructor definition for each overloaded version.
ANS: b. There is no mechanism in C++ for a constructor to call another constructor in the same class. [C++
includes delegating constructors—that is, constructors that can delegate their work to other constructors in
the same class.]

Section 9.7 Destructors

9.7 Q1: Which of the following is not true of a constructor and destructor of the same class?
a. They both have the same name aside from the tilde ( ~) character.
b. They are both usually called once per object created .
c. They both are able to have default arguments.
d. Both are called automatically, even if they are not explicitly defined in the class .
ANS: c. They both are able to have default arguments.

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 4 of 7

9.7 Q2: Which of the following is not true of a destructor?

a. It performs termination housekeeping.
b. It is called before the system reclaims the object’s memory .
c. If the programmer does not explicitly provide a destructor, the compiler creates an “empty” destructor .
d. It releases the object’s memory.
ANS: d. It releases the object’s memory.

Section 9.8 When Constructors and Destructors Are Called

9.8 Q1: Given the class definition:

class CreateDestroy
{
public:
CreateDestroy() {cout << "constructor called, ";}
~CreateDestroy() {cout << "destructor called, ";}
};

What will the following program output?

int main()
{
CreateDestroy c1;
CreateDestroy c2;
return 0;
}

a. constructor called, destructor called, constructor called, destructor called,

b. constructor called, destructor called,
c. constructor called, constructor called,
d. constructor called, constructor called, destructor called, destructor called,
ANS: d. constructor called, constructor called, destructor called, destructor called,

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 5 of 7

9.8 Q2: Given the class definition:

class CreateDestroy
{
public:
CreateDestroy() {cout << "constructor called, ";}
~CreateDestroy() {cout << "destructor called, ";}
};

What will the following program output?

int main()
{
for (int i = 1; i <= 2; ++i) {
CreateDestroy cd;
}
return 0;
}

a. constructor called, destructor called, constructor called, destructor called,

b. constructor called, constructor called,
c. constructor called, constructor called, destructor called, destructor called,
d. Nothing.
ANS: a. constructor called, destructor called, constructor called, destructor called,

Section 9.9 Time Class Case Study: A Subtle Trap—Returning a Reference to a private Data Member

9.9 Q1: Returning references to non-const, private data:

a. Allows private functions to be modified.
b. Is only dangerous if the binary scope resolution operator (::) is used in the function prototype.
c. Allows private member variables to be modified, thus “breaking encapsulation.”
d. Results in a compiler error.
ANS: c. Allows private member variables to be modified, thus “breaking encapsulation.”

9.9 Q2: A client changing the values of private data members is:
a. Only possible by calling private member functions.
b. Possible using public functions and references.
c. Never possible.
d. Only possible if the private variables are not declared inside the class.
ANS: b. Possible using public functions and references.

Section 9.10 Default Memberwise Assignment

9.10 Q1: The assignment operator (=) can be used to:

a. Test for equality.
b. Copy data from one object to another.
c. Compare two objects.
d. Copy a class.
ANS: b. Copy data from one object to another.

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 6 of 7

Section 9.11 const (Constant) Objects and const Member Functions

9.11 Q1: Which of the following statements will not produce a syntax error?
e. Defining a const member function that modifies a data member of the object.
f. Invoking a non-const member function on a const object.
g. Declaring an object to be const.
h. Declaring a constructor to be const.
ANS c. Declaring an object to be const.

9.11 Q2: The code fragment:

Increment::Increment(int c, int i)
: increment (i)
{
count = c;
}

does not cause any compilation errors. This tells you that:
a. count must be a non-const variable.
b. count must be a const variable.
c. increment must be a non-const variable.
d. increment must be a const variable.
ANS a. count must be a non-const variable.

Section 9.12 Composition: Objects as Members of Classes

9.11 Q1: When composition (one object having another object as a member) is used:
a. The host object is constructed first and then the member objects are placed into it.
b. Member objects are constructed first, in the order they appear in the host constructor’s initializer list.
c. Member objects are constructed first, in the order they are declared in the host’s class.
d. Member objects are destructed last, in the order they are declared in the host’s class.
ANS c. Member objects are constructed first, in the order they are declared in the host’s class.

9.12 Q2: An error occurs if:

a. A non-reference, non-const, primitive data member is initialized in the member initialization list.
b. An object data member is not initialized in the member initialization list.
c. An object data member does not have a default constructor.
d. An object data member is not initialized in the member initialization list and does not have a default constructor.
ANS d. An object data member is not initialized in the member initialization list and does not have a default
constructor.

Section 9.13 friend Functions and friend Classes

9.13 Q1: If the line:

friend class A;
appears in class B, and the line:
friend class B;
appears in class C, then:
a. Class A is a friend of class C.
b. Class A can access private variables of class B.
c. Class C can call class A’s private member functions.
d. Class B can access class A’s private variables.
ANS: b. Class A can access private variables of class B.

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
C++ How to Program, 10/e Multiple Choice Test Bank 7 of 7

9.13 Q2: Which of the following statements about friend functions and friend classes is false?
a. A class can either grant friendship to or take friendship from another class using the friend keyword.
b. A friend declaration can appear anywhere in a class definition.
c. A friend of a class can access all of its private data member and member functions.
d. The friendship relationship is neither symmetric nor transitive.
ANS a. A class can either grant friendship to or take friendship from another class using the friend
keyword.

Section 9.14 Using the this Pointer

9.14 Q1: For a non-constant member function of class Test, the this pointer has type:
a. const Test *
b. Test * const
c. Test const *
d. const Test * const
ANS: b. Test * const

9.14 Q2: Inside a function definition for a member function of an object with data member x, which of the following
is not equivalent to this->x:
a. *this.x
b. (*this).x
c. x
d. None of the above are equivalent.
ANS: a. *this.x

9.14 Q3: Assume that t is an object of class Test, which has member functions a(), b(), c() and d(). If the
functions a(), b() and c() all return references to an object of class Test (using the dereferenced this pointer)
and function d() returns void, which of the following statements will not produce a syntax error:
a. t.a().b().d();
b. a().b().t;
c. t.d().c();
d. t.a().t.d();
ANS: a. t.a().b().d();

Section 9.15 static Class Members

9.15 Q1: If Americans are objects of the same class, which of the following attributes would most likely be
represented by a static variable of that class?
a. Age.
b. The President.
c. Place of birth.
d. Favorite food.
ANS: b. The President.

9.15 Q2: static data members of a certain class:

a. Can be accessed only if an object of that class exists.
b. Cannot be changed, even by objects of the same that class.
c. Have class scope.
d. Can only be changed by static member functions.
ANS: c. Have class scope.

9.15 Q3: static member functions:

a. Can use the this pointer.
b. Can access only other static member functions and static data members.
c. Cannot be called until an object of their class is instantiated .
d. Can be declared const as well.
ANS: b. Can only access other static member functions and static data members.

© Copyright 1992-2017 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
Such floral devices do not now rank as votive gifts. They are merely
decorations. The custom may have originated in the Roman Fontinalia. At
any rate it had at one time a corresponding object. The Fontinalia formed an
annual flower-festival in honour of the nymphs inhabiting springs. Joyous
bands visited the fountains, crowned them with boughs, and threw nosegays
into their sparkling water. The parallelism between the Roman and the
English Fontinalia is too well marked to be overlooked. In Derbyshire and
Staffordshire the ceremony of well-dressing is usually observed on
Ascension Day. In more than one instance the festival has attracted to itself
various old English sports commonly associated with May Day. Among
these may be mentioned May-pole and Morris-dancing and crowning the
May-queen.

At Endon, in Staffordshire, the festival is celebrated on Royal Oak Day

(May 29th), or on the following day if the 29th is a Sunday. The following
account—somewhat abbreviated—is from the “Staffordshire Evening Post”
of 31st May, 1892, and gives some interesting particulars about the festival:
“The secluded village of Endon yesterday celebrated the well-dressing
feast. This institution, dear to the heart of every loyal inhabitant, holds
foremost rank in the local calends, for it is not a holiday of ordinary
frivolous significance, but a thanksgiving festival. The proceeds, which
generally amount to some hundreds of pounds, are divided between the
poor of the parish and the parochial schools. There are two wells at Endon.
One is very old and almost dry, and has long since fallen into disuse. The
other alone supplies the village with water. From a very early hour in the
morning the whole village was astir, and those people who were gifted with
taste and a delicate touch busied themselves in bedecking the wells for the
coming ceremony. As the day advanced, crowds of visitors poured in from
all parts of the potteries; and towards evening the village green probably
held no fewer than two thousand people. The proceedings, which were
under the personal guidance of the vicar, commenced a little before two
o’clock. A procession of about a hundred and twenty Sunday-school
children was formed at the new well, with the Brownedge village brass
band at its head. The children carried little flags, which they vigorously
waved in excess of glee. The band struck up bravely, and the procession
marched in good order up the hill to the old parish church, where a solemn
service was conducted. The villagers attended in overwhelming numbers,
and completely thronged the building. There was a fully surpliced choir,
whose singing, coupled with the music of the organ, greatly added to the
impressiveness of the service. Hymns and psalms, selected by the vicar as
applicable to a thanksgiving service for water, were sung by the
congregation in spirited style. At the conclusion of the service the
procession was reformed, the band leading the way back to the new well.
Upon arrival, the clergy and choir, who had retained their surplices, walked
slowly round the well, singing ‘Rock of Ages’ and ‘A living stream as
crystal clear.’ Both wells were very beautifully decorated; but the new well
was a masterpiece of elaborated art. A large wooden framework had been
erected in front of the well, and upon this a smooth surface of soft clay had
been laid. The clay was thickly studded with many thousands of flower
heads in great variety of kind and hue, and in pictorial as well as
geometrical arrangement. There were two very pretty figures of peacocks in
daisies, bluebells, and dahlias, and a resplendent motto, ‘O, ye wells! bless
ye the Lord!’ (from the Benedicite) garnished the summit. The old well was
almost deserted, although its decorations were well worthy of inspection. Its
motto, ‘Give me this water’ (from the fourth chapter of St. John) was very
finely traced, and its centre figures—two white doves and a crown—were
sufficiently striking. May-pole dances, including the crowning of the May-
queen, occupied the greater part of the afternoon. In the evening the band
played for dancing, and there was a repetition of the May-pole dances. After
dusk there was a display of fireworks.”

Though, as already stated, well-dressing was unknown north of the Tweed,

any account of votive offerings would be incomplete without a reference to
the picturesque ceremony.
CHAPTER XIII.
 Weather and Wells.

Importance of Weather—Its Place in Folklore—Raising the Wind—Witches and

Wind-charms—Blue-stone in Fladda—Well in Gigha—Tobernacoragh—Routing-
well—Water Cross—Stone in British Columbia—Other Rain-charms—Survivals
in Folk-customs—Sympathetic Magic—Dulyn—Barenton—Tobar Faolan—St.
Fumac’s Image at Botriphnie—Molly Grime.

In all ages much attention has been given to the weather, with special
reference to its bearings on human well-being. As Mr. R. Inwards truly
observes, in his “Weather-lore,” “From the earliest times hunters,
shepherds, sailors, and tillers of the earth have from sheer necessity been
led to study the teachings of the winds, the waves, the clouds, and a
hundred other objects from which the signs of coming changes in the state
of the air might be foretold. The weather-wise amongst these primitive
people would be naturally the most prosperous, and others would soon
acquire the coveted foresight by a closer observance of the same objects
from which their successful rivals guessed the proper time to provide
against a storm, or reckoned on the prospects of the coming crops.” Hence,
naturally enough, the weather has an important place in folklore. Various
prognostications concerning it have been drawn from sun and moon, from
animals and flowers; while certain meteorological phenomena have, in their
turn, been regarded as prophetic of mundane events. Thus, in the
astrological treatise entitled “The Knowledge of Things Unknown,” we read
that “Thunder in January signifieth the same year great winds, plentiful of
corn and cattle peradventure; in February, many rich men shall die in great
sickness; in March, great winds, plenty of corn, and debate amongst people;
in April, be fruitful and merry with the death of wicked men;” and so on
through the other months of the year. One can easily understand why
thunder should be counted peculiarly ominous. The effects produced on the
mind by its mysterious noise, and on the nerves by the electricity in the air,
are apt to lead superstitious people to expect strange events. Particular
notice was taken of the weather on certain ecclesiastical festivals, and
omens were drawn from its condition. Thus, from “The Husbandman’s
Practice,” we learn that “The wise and cunning masters in astrology have
found that man may see and mark the weather of the holy Christmas night,
how the whole year after shall be in his making and doing, and they shall
speak on this wise. When on the Christmas night and evening it is very fair
and clear weather, and is without wind and without rain, then it is a token
that this year will be plenty of wine and fruit. But if the contrariwise, foul
weather and windy, so shall it be very scant of wine and fruit. But if the
wind arise at the rising of the sun, then it betokeneth great dearth among
beasts and cattle this year. But if the wind arise at the going down of the
same, then it signifieth death to come among kings and other great lords.”
We do not suppose that anyone nowadays attends to such Yule-tide
auguries, but there are not wanting those who have a lingering belief in the
power of Candlemas and St. Swithin’s Day to foretell the sort of weather to
be expected in the immediate future.

Witches were believed to be able to raise the wind at their pleasure. In a

confession made at Auldearn in Nairnshire, in the year 1662, certain
women, accused of sorcery, said, “When we raise the wind we take a rag of
cloth and wet it in water, and we take a beetle and knock the rag on a stone,
and we say thrice over—

‘I knock this rag upon this stane,

To raise the wind in the devil’s name.
It shall not lie until I please again!’ ”

When the wind was to be allayed the rag was dried. About 1670 an attempt
was made to drain some two thousand acres of land belonging to the estate
of Dun in Forfarshire. The Dronner’s, i.e., Drainer’s Dyke—remains of
which are still to be seen behind the Montrose Infirmary—was built in
connection with the scheme. But the work was destroyed by a terrible
storm, caused, it was believed, by a certain Meggie Cowie—the last to be
burned for witchcraft in the district. About eighty years before, a notable
witch-trial in the time of James VI. had to do with the raising of a storm. A
certain woman, Agnes Sampson, residing in Haddingtonshire, confessed
that she belonged to a company of two hundred witches, and that they were
all in the habit of sailing along the coast in sieves to meet the devil at the
kirk of North Berwick. After one of these interviews the woman took a cat
and christened it, and, after fixing to it parts of a dead man’s body, threw
the creature into the sea in presence of the other witches. The king, who was
then returning from Denmark with his bride, was delayed by contrary
winds, and such a tempest arose in the Firth of Forth that a vessel,
containing valuable gifts for the queen on her arrival, sank between
Burntisland and Leith. The Rev. T. F. Thiselton Dyer makes the suggestion
in his “Folklore of Shakespeare,” that it was probably to these contrary
winds that the author of “Macbeth” alludes when he makes the witch say—

“Though his bark cannot be lost,

Yet it shall be tempest-tost.”

Even down to the end of last century, and probably later, some well-
educated people believed that the devil had the power of raising the wind.
The phrase, the prince of the power of the air, applied to him in Scripture,
was interpreted in a literal way. “The Diary of the Rev. John Mill,” minister
in Shetland from 1740 till 1803, bears witness to such a belief. In his
introduction to the work, the editor, Mr. Gilbert Goudie, tells us: “He (Mill)
was often heard talking aloud with his (to others) unseen foe; but those who
heard him declared that he spoke in an unknown tongue, presumably
Hebrew. After one of these encounters the worthy man was heard muttering,
‘Well, let him do his worst; the wind aye in my face will not hurt me.’ This
was in response to a threat of the devil, that wherever he (Mill) went, he
(Satan) should be a-blowing ‘wind in his teeth,’ in consequence of which
Mill was unable ever after to get passage out of Shetland.” On the 5th of
November, 1605, a terrible storm swept over the north of Scotland and
destroyed part of the cathedral at Dornoch. As is well known, the day in
question was selected by Guy Fawkes for blowing up the Houses of
Parliament. In his “Cathedral of Caithness, at Dornoch,” Mr. Hugh F.
Campbell tells us: “When the news of the gunpowder plot reached the
north, the co-incidence of time at once impressed the imagination of a
superstitious age. The storm was invested with an element of the
marvellous.” Mr. Campbell then quotes the following curious passage from
Sir Robert Gordon, specially referring to Satan’s connection with the
tempest:—“The same verie night that this execrable plott should have been
put in execution all the inner stone pillars of the north syd of the body of the
cathedral church at Dornogh—lacking the rooff before—were blowen from
the verie roots and foundation quyt and clein over the outer walls of the
church: such as hath sein the same. These great winds did even then
prognosticate and forshew some great treason to be at hand; and as the
divell was busie then to trouble the ayre, so wes he bussie by these hiss
fyrebrands to trouble the estate of Great Britane.”

The notion that storms, especially when accompanied by thunder and

lightning, were the work of evil spirits, came out prominently during the
middle ages in connection with bells. The ringing of bells was believed to
drive away the demons, and so allay the tempest. A singular superstition
concerning the causation of storms was brought to light in Hungary during
the autumn of 1892 in connection with the fear of cholera. At Kidzaes a
patient died of what was thought to be that disease, and a post mortem
examination was ordered by the local authorities. Strenuous opposition,
however, was offered by the villagers on the ground that the act would
cause such a hail-storm as would destroy their crops. Feeling ran so high
that a riot was imminent, and the project had to be abandoned. Eric, the
Swedish king, could control the winds through his enchantments. By
turning his cap he was able to bring a breeze from whatever quarter he
wished. Mr. G. L. Gomme, in his “Ethnology in Folklore,” remarks, “At
Kempoch Point, in the Firth of Clyde, is a columnar rock called the
Kempoch Stane, from whence a saint was wont to dispense favourable
winds to those who paid for them, and unfavourable to those who did not
put confidence in his powers—a tradition which seems to have been carried
on by the Innerkip witches who were tried in 1662, and some portions of
which still linger among the sailors of Greenock.” The stone in question
consists of a block of grey mica schist six feet in height and two in
diameter. It is locally known as Granny Kempoch. In former times sailors
and fishermen sought to ensure good fortune on the sea by walking seven
times round the stone. While making their rounds they carried in their hand
a basket of sand, and at the same time uttered an eerie chant. Newly-
married couples used also to walk round the stone by way of luck.
At the beginning of the present century a certain woman, Bessie Miller by
name, lived in Stromness, in Orkney, and eked out her livelihood by selling
winds to mariners. Her usual charge was sixpence. For this sum, as Sir W.
Scott tells us, “she boiled her kettle, and gave the barque advantage of her
prayers, for she disclaimed all unlawful arts. The wind, thus petitioned for,
was sure to arrive, though sometimes the mariners had to wait some time
for it.” Her house was on the brow of the steep hill above the town, “and for
exposure might have been the abode of Eolus himself.” At the time of Sir
Walter’s visit to Stromness, Bessie Miller was nearly a hundred years old,
and appeared “withered and dried up like a mummy.” We make her
acquaintance in the “Pirate,” under the name of Norna of the Fitful Head.
In his “Rambles in the Far North,” Mr. R. M. Fergusson tells of another
wind-compelling personage, named Mammie Scott, who also belonged to
Stromness, and practised her arts there, till within a comparatively recent
date. “Many wonderful tales are told of her power and influence over the
weather. Her fame was widely spread as that of Bessie. A captain called
upon Mammie one day to solicit a fair wind. He was bound for Stornoway,
and received from the reputed witch a scarlet thread upon which were three
knots. His instructions were, that if sufficient wind did not arrive, one of the
knots was to be untied; if that proved insufficient, another knot was to be
untied; but he was on no account to unloose the third knot, else disaster
would overtake his vessel. The mariner set out upon his voyage, and, the
wind being light, untied the first knot. This brought a stronger breeze, but
still not sufficient to satisfy him. The second knot was let down, and away
the vessel sped across the waters, round Cape Wrath. In a short time the
entrance to Stornoway harbour was reached, when it came into the captain’s
head to untie the third knot in order to see what might occur. He was too
near the end of his voyage to suffer any damage now; and so he felt
emboldened to make the experiment. No sooner was the last knot set free
than a perfect hurricane set in from a contrary direction, which drove the
vessel right back to Hoy Sound, from which she had set out, where he had
ample time to repent of his folly.”

Within the last half-century there lived in Stonehaven an old woman, who
was regarded with considerable awe by the sea-faring population. Before a
voyage it was usual to propitiate her by the gift of a bag of coals. On one
occasion, two brothers, owners of a coasting smack, after setting sail, had to
return to port through stress of weather, the storm being due, it was
believed, to the fact that one of the brothers had omitted to secure the
woman’s good offices in the usual way. The brother who was captain of the
smack seems to have been a firm believer in wind-charms, for it is related
of him that during a more than usually high wind he was in the habit of
throwing up his cap into the air with the exclamation, “She maun hae
something.” She, in this case, was the wind, and not the witch: and the cap
was meant as a gift to propitiate the storm. Dr. Charles Rogers, in his
“Social Life in Scotland,” tells us that “the seamen of Shetland, in
tempestuous weather, throw a piece of money into the window of a ruinous
chapel dedicated to St. Ronald in the belief that the saint will allay the
vehemence of the storm.” According to the same writer, “Shetland boatmen
still purchase favourable winds from elderly women, who pretend to rule or
to modify the storms.” “There are now in Lerwick,” Dr. Rogers continues,
“several old women who in this fashion earn a subsistence. Many of the
survivors of the great storm of the 20th of July, 1881—so fatal on northern
coasts—assert that their preservation was due to warnings which they
received through a supernatural agency.”

Human skulls have their folklore. The lifting of them from their usual
resting-places has, in popular belief, been connected with certain
mysterious occurrences. According to a story told by Mr. Wirt Sikes, in his
“British Goblins,” a man who removed a skull from a church to prove to his
companions that he was free from superstition was overtaken by a terrible
whirlwind, the result, it was thought, of his rash act. In some Highland
districts it used to be reckoned unlucky to allow a corpse to remain
unburied. If from any cause, human bones came to the surface, care was
taken to lay them below ground again, as otherwise disastrous storms would
ensue.

We have a good example of the association of wind-charms with water in

the case of a certain magical stone referred to by Martin as existing in his
day in the island of Fladda, near Skye. There was a chapel to St. Columba
on the island, and on the altar lay the stone in question. The stone was
round, of a blue colour, and was always moist. “It is an ordinary custom,”
Martin relates, “when any of the fishermen are detained in the isle by
contrary winds, to wash the blue stone with water all round, expecting
thereby to procure a favourable wind, which, the credulous tenant, living in
the isle, says never fails, especially if a stranger wash the stone.” The power
of the Fladda stone was equalled by a certain well in Gigha, though in the
latter instance a dweller in the island, rather than a stranger, had power over
it. When a foreign boat was wind-bound on the island, the master of the
craft was in the habit of giving some money to one of the natives, to
procure a favourable breeze. This was done in the following way. A few feet
above the well was a heap of stones, forming a cover to the spring. These
were carefully removed, and the well was cleared out with a wooden dish or
clam-shell. The water was then thrown several times towards the point,
from which the needed wind should blow. Certain words of incantation
were used, each time the water was thrown. After the ceremony, the stones
were replaced, as the district would otherwise have been swept by a
hurricane. Pennant mentions, in connection with his visit to Gigha, that the
superstition had then died out. In this he was in error, for the well continued
to be occasionally consulted to a later date. Even within recent years, the
memory of the practice lingered in the island; but there seemed some doubt,
as to the exact nature of the required ritual. Captain T. P. White was told by
a shepherd, belonging to the island, that, if a stone was taken out of the
well, a storm would arise and prevent any person crossing over, nor would
it abate till the stone was taken back to the well.

From the evidence of an Irish example, we find that springs could allay a
storm, as well as produce a favourable breeze. The island of Innismurray,
off the coast of Sligo, has a sacred well called Tobernacoragh. When a
tempest was raging, the natives believed that by draining the water of this
well into the sea, the wrath of the elements could be calmed. Mr. Gomme,
in his “Ethnology in Folklore,” when commenting on the instance, remarks,
“In this case the connection between well-worship and the worship of a
rain-god is certain, for it may be surmised that if the emptying of the well
allayed a storm, some complementary action was practised at one time or
other in order to produce rain, and in districts more subject to a want of rain
than this Atlantic island, that ceremony would be accentuated at the expense
of the storm-allaying ceremony at Innismurray.” The Routing Well, at
Monktown, in Inveresk parish, Mid-Lothian, was believed to give notice of
an approaching storm by uttering sounds resembling the moaning of the
wind. As a matter of fact, the noises came from certain disused coal-
workings in the immediate neighbourhood, and were due to the high wind
blowing through them. The sounds thus accompanied and did not precede
the storm.

To procure rain, recourse was had to various superstitious practices. Martin

tells of a stone, five feet high, in the form of a cross, opposite St. Mary’s
Church, in North Uist. “The natives,” he says, “call it the ‘Water Cross,’ for
the ancient inhabitants had a custom of erecting this sort of cross to procure
rain, and when they had got enough, they laid it flat on the ground, but this
custom is now disused.” Among the mountains of British Columbia, is a
certain stone held in much honour by the Indians, for they believe that it
will produce rain when struck. Rain-making is an important occupation
among uncivilised races, and strange rites are sometimes practised to bring
about the desired result. By some savages, human hair is burned for this
end. Mr. J. G. Frazer, in “The Golden Bough,” has some interesting remarks
on rain-production. After enumerating certain rain-charms among heathen
nations, he remarks, “Another way of constraining the rain-god is to disturb
him in his haunts. This seems the reason why rain is supposed to be the
consequence of troubling a sacred spring. The Dards believed that if a
cowskin or anything impure is placed in certain springs storms will follow.
Gervasius mentions a spring, into which, if a stone or a stick were thrown,
rain would at once issue from it and drench the thrower. There was a
fountain in Munster such that if it were touched or even looked at by a
human being it would at once flood the whole province with rain.” Curious
survivals of ancient rain-charms are to be found in modern folk-customs.
Thus, in connection with the rejoicings of the harvest-home in England,
when the last load of grain was being carried on the gaily decorated hock-
cart to the farm-yard, it was customary to throw water on those taking part
in the ceremony. This apparently meaningless frolic was in reality a rain-
charm. A Cornish custom, at one time popular at Padstow on the first of
May, can be explained on the same principle. A hobby-horse was taken to
the Traitor’s Pool, a quarter of a mile from the town. The head was dipped
in the pool, and water was sprinkled on the bystanders.
Such charms depend for their efficacy on what is called “sympathetic
magic.” Mimic rain is produced on the earth, in the hope that the same
liquid will be constrained to descend from the heavens, to bring fresh
fertility to the fields. Professor Rhys, in his “Celtic Heathendom,” traces the
connection between modern rain-charms and the rites of ancient paganism.
He there quotes the following particulars regarding Dulyn, in North Wales,
from a description of the place published in 1805:—“There lies in Snowdon
Mountain a lake called Dulyn, in a dismal dingle surrounded by high and
dangerous rocks; the lake is exceedingly black, and its fish are loathsome,
having large heads and small bodies. No wild swan or duck or any kind of
bird has ever been seen to light on it, as is their wont on every other
Snowdonian lake. In this same lake there is a row of stepping stones
extending into it; and if any one steps on the stones and throws water so as
to wet the furthest stone of the series, which is called the Red Altar, it is but
a chance that you do not get rain before night, even when it is hot weather.”
The spot was, probably in pre-Christian times, the scene of sacrifices to
some local deity. Judging from the dismal character of the neighbourhood,
we may safely infer that fear entered largely into the worship paid there to
the genius loci. The Fountain of Barenton, in Brittany, was specially
celebrated in connection with rain-making. During the early middle ages,
the peasantry of the neighbourhood resorted to it in days of drought.
According to a time-honoured custom, they took some water from the
fountain and threw it on a slab hard by; rain was the result. Professor Rhys
reminds us that this fountain “still retains its pluvial importance; for, in
seasons of drought, the inhabitants of the surrounding parishes, we are told
go to it in procession, headed by their five great banners and their priests
ringing bells and chanting psalms. On arriving, the rector of the canton dips
the foot of the cross in the water, and it is sure to rain within a week’s time.”
The Barenton instance is specially interesting, for part of the ceremony
recalls what happened in connection with a certain Scottish spring, viz.,
Tobar Faolan at Struan, in Athole. This spring, as the name implies, was
dedicated to Fillan. In his “Holiday Notes in Athole,” in the “Proceedings of
the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland,” volume xii. (new series), Mr. J.
Mackintosh Gow says, “It is nearly one hundred yards west from the
church, at the foot of the bank, and close to the river Garry. It is overgrown
with grass and weeds, but the water is as clear and cool as it may have been
in the days of the saint. There is no tradition of its having been a curing or
healing well, except that in pre-Reformation days, when a drought prevailed
and rain was much wanted, an image of the saint, which was kept in the
church, used to be taken in procession to the well, and, in order that rain
might come, the feet of the image were placed in the water; and this, of
course, was generally supposed to have the desired effect.” At Botriphnie,
in Banffshire, six miles from Keith, the wooden image of St. Fumac used to
be solemnly washed in his well on the third of May. We may conclude that
the ceremony was intended as a rain-charm. It must have been successful,
on at least one occasion, for the river Isla became flooded through the
abundance of rain. Indeed, the flooding was so great that the saint’s image
was swept away by the rushing water. The image was finally stranded at
Banff, where it was burned as a relic of superstition by order of the parish
minister about the beginning of the present century. In Glentham Church,
Lincolnshire, is a tomb, with a figure locally called “Molly Grime.” From
“Old English Customs and Charities,” we learn that, till 1832, the figure
was washed every Good Friday with water from Newell Well by seven old
maids of Glentham, who each received a shilling, “in consequence of an old
bequest connected with some property in that district.” Perhaps its testator
was not free from a belief in the efficacy of rain-charms. Otherwise, the
ceremony seems meaningless. If the keeping clean of the figure was the
only object, the seven old maids should not have limited their duties to an
annual pilgrimage from the well to the church.
CHAPTER XIV.
 Trees and Springs.

Tree-worship—Ygdrasil—Personality of Plants—Tree-ancestors
—“Wassailing”—Relics of Tree-worship—Connla’s Well—Cutting down Trees
Unlucky—Spring at Monzie—Marriage Well—Pear-Tree Well—Some
Miraculous Trees—External Soul—Its Connection with Trees, &c.—Arms of
Glasgow.

Trees were at one time worshipped as well as fountains. Ygdrasil, the

world-tree of Scandinavian mythology, had three roots, and underneath
each, was a fountain of wonderful virtues. This represents the connection
between tree and well in the domain of mythology. But the same
superstition was connected with ordinary trees and wells. Glancing back
over the history of civilisation, we reach a period, when vegetation was
endowed with personality. As plants manifested the phenomena of life and
death like man and the lower animals, they had a similar kind of existence
attributed to them. Among some savages to-day, the fragrance of a flower is
thought to be its soul. As there was thus no hard and fast line between man
and the vegetable kingdom, the one could be derived from the other; in
other words, men could have trees as their ancestors. Curious survivals of
such a belief lie both revealed and concealed in the language of to-day.
Though we are far separated from such a phase of archaic religion, we
speak of the branches of a family. At one time such an expression
represented a literal fact, and not a mere metaphor. In like manner, we call a
son, who resembles his father, “a chip of the old block.” But how few when
using the phrase are alive to its real force! Mr. Keary, in his “Outlines of
Primitive Belief,” observes, “Even when the literal notion of the descent
from a tree had been lost sight of, the close connection between the
prosperity of the tribe and the life of its fetish was often strictly held. The
village tree of the German races was originally a tribal tree with whose
existence the life of the village was involved.”

The picturesque ceremony known as the “Wassailing of Apple-trees,” kept

up till lately in Devon and Cornwall, carries our thoughts back to the time
when tree-worship was a thriving cult in our land. It was celebrated on the
evening before Epiphany (January 6th). The farmer, accompanied by his
labourers, carried a pail of cider with roasted apples in it into the orchard.
The pail was placed on the ground, and each one of the company took from
it a cupful of the liquid. They then stood before the trees and repeated the
following lines:—

“Health to thee, good apple tree,

Well to bear pocket-fulls, hat-fulls,
Peck-fulls, bushel bag-fulls.”

Part of the contents of the cup was then drunk, and the remainder was
thrown at the tree amid shouts from the by-standers. Relics of the same cult
can be traced in the superstitious regard for such trees as the rowan, the
elder, &c., and in the decoration of the May-pole and the Christmas Tree.
According to an ancient Irish legend, a certain spring in Erin, called
Connla’s Well, had growing over it nine mystical hazel trees. Year by year
these trees produced their flowers and fruit simultaneously. The nuts were
of a brilliant crimson colour and contained in some mysterious way the
knowledge of all that was best in poetry and art. Professor O’Curry, in his
“Lectures on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish,” refers to this
legend, and says, “No sooner were the beautiful nuts produced on the trees
than they always dropped into the well, raising by their fall a succession of
shining red bubbles. Now, during this time the water was always full of
salmon, and no sooner did the bubbles appear than these salmon darted to
the surface and ate the nuts, after which they made their way to the river.
The eating of the nuts produced brilliant crimson spots on the bellies of
these salmon, and to catch and eat these salmon became an object of more
than mere gastronomic interest among those who were anxious to become
distinguished in the arts and in literature without being at the pains and
delay of long study, for the fish was supposed to have become filled with
the knowledge which was contained in the nuts, which, it was believed,
would be transferred in full to those who had the good fortune to catch and
eat them.”
In many cases it was counted unlucky to cut down trees, since the spirits,
inhabiting them, would resent the injury. In the sixteenth century the
parishioners of Clynnog, in Caernarvonshire, refrained from destroying the
trees growing in the grounds of St. Beyno. Even though he was their patron
saint, he was quite ready to harm anybody who took liberties with his
grove. Loch Siant Well, in Skye, was noted for its power to cure headaches,
stitches, and other ailments, and was much frequented in consequence.
Martin says, “There is a small coppice near to the well, and there is none of
the natives dare venture to cut the least branch of it for fear of some signal
judgment to follow upon it.” Martin also tells us that the same reverence
was for long paid to the peat on the island of Lingay. This island, he says,
“is singular in respect of all the lands of Uist, and the other islands that
surround it, for they are all composed of sand, and this, on the contrary, is
altogether moss covered with heath, affording five peats in depth, and is
very serviceable and useful, furnishing the island Borera, &c., with plenty
of good fuel. This island was held as consecrated for several ages, insomuch
that the natives would not then presume to cut any fuel in it.”

When trees beside wells had rags hung on them as offerings, they would
naturally be reverenced, as the living altars for the reception of the gifts.
But even when not used for this purpose, they were sometimes thought to
have a mysterious connection with the springs they overshadowed. In the
parish of Monzie, Perthshire, is a mineral well held in much esteem till
about the year 1770. At that time two trees, till then the guardians of the
spring, fell, and with their fall its virtue departed. On the right bank of the
Clyde, about three-quarters of a mile from Carmyle village, is the once
sylvan district of Kenmuir. There, at the foot of a bank, is a spring locally
known as “The Marriage Well,” the name being derived, it is said, from two
curiously united trees beside its margin. These trees were recently cut
down. In former times, it was customary for marriage parties, the day after
their wedding, to visit the spring, and there pledge the bride and bridegroom
in draughts of its sparkling water. On the banks of the Kelvin, close to the
Glasgow Botanic Gardens, once flowed a spring styled the Pear-Tree, Pea-
Tree, or Three-Tree Well, the last name being probably the original one. In
former times it was a recognised trysting-place for lovers. A tragic story is
told in connection with it by Mr. James Napier in his “Notes and
Reminiscences of Partick.” A maiden, named Catherine Clark, arranged to
meet her lover there by night,

“nor did she ever dream

But that he was what he did ever seem.”

She never returned to her home. “A few days after,” remarks Mr. Napier,
“her body was found buried near a large tree which stood within a few
yards of the Pea-Tree Well. This tree was afterwards known as ‘Catherine
Clark’s Tree,’ and remained for many years an object of interest to the
visitors to this far-famed well, and many a sympathising lover carved his
name in rude letters on its bark. But the tree was also an object of terror to
those who had to pass it in dark and lonely nights, and many tales were told
of people who had seen a young female form dressed in white, and stained
with blood, standing at the tree foot.” The tree was removed many years
ago. The spring too is gone, the recent extension of the Caledonian Railway
to Maryhill having forced it to quit the field.

Near the moat of Listerling, in county Kilkenny, Ireland, is a holy well

dedicated to St. Mullen, who is said to have lived for a while in its
neighbourhood. A fine hawthorn, overshadowing it, grew—if we can
believe a local legend—from the staff of the saint, which he there stuck into
the ground. This reminds one of the famous Glastonbury Thorn, produced
from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, who fixed it in the ground one
Christmas Day. The staff took root at once, put forth branches, and next day
was covered with milk-white blossoms. St. Servanus’s staff, too, had a
miraculous ending. He threw it across the Firth of Forth, and when it fell on
the Fife coast, it took root and became an apple-tree. A group of thorn-
bushes, near Aghaboe, in Queen’s County, Ireland, was dedicated to St.
Canice. The spring, overshadowed by them, was much resorted to for the
purposes of devotion. At Rearymore, in the same county, some hawthorns,
growing beside St. Finyan’s spring, were, and doubtless still are, religiously
preserved by the natives. In the Isle of Man is Chibber Unjin, signifying
The Well of the Ash. Beside it grew an ash tree, formerly decorated with
votive offerings.
What has been called the external soul has an important place in folklore,
and forms the theme of many folk-tales. Primitive man does not think of the
soul as spiritual, but as material—as something that can be seen and felt. It
can take different shapes. It can leave the body during sleep, and wander
about in the guise of an animal, such as a mouse. Considerable space is
devoted to this problem in Mr. J. G. Frazer’s “Golden Bough.” Mr. Frazer
there remarks, “There may be circumstances in which, if the life or soul
remains in the man, it stands a greater chance of sustaining injury than if it
were stowed away in some safe and secret place. Accordingly, in such
circumstances, primitive man takes his soul out of his body and deposits it
for security in some safe place, intending to replace it in his body when the
danger is past; or, if he should discover some place of absolute security, he
may be content to leave his soul there permanently. The advantage of this
is, that so long as the soul remains unharmed in the place where he has
deposited it, the man himself is immortal; nothing can kill his body, since
his life is not in it.” Sometimes the soul is believed to be stowed away in a
tree, injury to the latter involving disaster to the former. The custom of
planting trees, and calling them after certain persons may nowadays have
nothing to do with this notion; but, undoubtedly, a real connection was at
one time believed to exist between the partners in the transaction. A certain
oak, with mistletoe growing on it, was mysteriously associated with the
family of Hay. The superstition is explained in the following lines:—

“While the mistletoe bats on Errol’s oak

And that oak stands fast,
The Hays shall flourish, and their good grey hawk
Shall not flinch before the blast.

But when the root of the oak decays

And the mistletoe dwines on its withered breast,
The grass shall grow on the Earl’s hearthstone,
And the corbies craw in the falcon’s nest.”

At Finlarig Castle, near Killin, in Perthshire, are several trees, believed to

be linked with the lives of certain individuals, connected by family ties with
the ruined fortress. Aubrey gives an example of this superstition, as it
existed in England in the seventeenth century. He says, “I cannot omit
taking notice of the great misfortune in the family of the Earl of
Winchelsea, who, at Eastwell, in Kent, felled down a most curious grove of
oaks near his own noble seat, and gave the first blow with his own hands.
Shortly after, the countess died in her bed suddenly, and his eldest son, the
Lord Maidstone, was killed at sea by a cannon bullet.” In the grounds of
Dalhousie Castle, about two miles from Dalkeith, on the edge of a fine
spring is the famous Edgewell Oak. Sir Walter Scott, in his “Journal,”
under date May 13th, 1829, writes, “Went with the girls to dine at
Dalhousie Castle, where we were very kindly received. I saw the Edgewell
Tree, too fatal, says Allan Ramsay, to the family from which he was himself
descended.” According to a belief in the district, a branch fell from this tree,
before the death of a member of the family. The original oak fell early in
last century, but a new one sprang from the old root. An editorial note to the
above entry in the “Journal” gives the following information:—“The tree is
still flourishing (1889), and the belief in its sympathy with the family is not
yet extinct, as an old forester, on seeing a branch fall from it on a quiet still
day in July, 1874, exclaimed, ‘The laird’s deed, noo!’ and, accordingly,
news came soon after that Fox Maule, eleventh Earl of Dalhousie, had
died.”

The external soul was sometimes associated with objects other than living
trees. Dr. Charles Rogers tells us that “a pear, supposed to have been
enchanted by Hugh Gifford, Lord of Yester, a notable magician in the reign
of Alexander III., is preserved in the family of Brown of Colston, as heirs of
Gifford’s estate.” The prosperity of the family is believed to be linked with
the preservation of the pear. Even an inanimate object would serve the
purpose. The glass drinking-cup, known as the “Luck of Edenhall,” is
connected with the fortunes of the Musgrave family, and great care is taken
to preserve it from injury. Tradition says that a company of fairies were
making merry beside a spring near the mansion-house, but that, being
frightened by some intruder, they vanished, leaving the cup in question,
while one of them exclaimed:—

“If this cup should break or fall,

 Farewell the luck of Edenhall.”

Some living object, however, either vegetable or animal, was the usual
repository of the external soul. A familiar folk-tale tells of a giant whose
heart was in a swan, and who could not be killed while the swan lived.
Hunting was a favourite occupation among the inhabitants of the Western
Isles; but on the mountain Finchra, in Rum, no deer was killed by any
member of the Lachlan family, as it was believed that the life of that family
was in some way linked with the life of these animals. A curious
superstition is mentioned by Camden in his “Britannia.” In a pond near the
Abbey of St. Maurice, in Burgundy, were put as many fish as there were
monks. When any monk was taken ill, one of the fish was seen to float half-
dead on the surface of the pond. If the fish died the monk died too, the
death of the former giving warning of the fate of the latter. In this case the
external soul was thought of as stowed away in a fish. As is well known, the
Arms of the City of Glasgow are a bell, a tree, a fish with a ring in its
mouth, and a bird. The popular explanation of these emblems connects
them with certain miracles, wrought by Kentigern, the patron saint of the
burgh. May we not hold that an explanation of their symbolism is to be
sought in a principle, that formed an article in the beliefs of men, long
before Kentigern was born, as well as during his time and since? The bell, it
is true, had, doubtless, an ecclesiastical association; but the other three
symbols point, perhaps, to some superstitious notion like the above. In
various folk-tales, as well as in Christian art, the soul is sometimes typified
by a bird. As we have just seen, it has been associated with trees and fish.
We are entitled therefore to ask whether the three symbols may not express
one and the same idea under different forms. It is, of course, open to anyone
to say that there were fish in the river, on whose banks Kentigern took up
his abode, and quite a forest with birds singing in it around his cell, and that
no further explanation of the symbolism need be sought. All these, it is true,
existed within the saint’s environment, but may they not have been regarded
as types of the soul under the guise of objects familiar to all, and afterwards
grouped together in the burgh Arms? On this hypothesis, the symbols have
survived the belief that gave them birth, and serve to connect the practical
life of to-day, with the vague visions and crude conjectures of the past.
CHAPTER XV.
 Charm-Stones in and out of Water.

Stone-worship—Mysterious Properties of Stones—Symbolism of Gems—

Gnostics—Abraxas Gems—Gems in Sarcophagi—Life-stones—Use of Amulets
in Scotland—Yellow Stone in Mull—Baul Muluy—Black Stones of Iona—Stone
as Medicine—Declan’s Stone—Curing-stones still used for Cattle—Mary, Queen
of Scots—Amulet at Abbotsford—Highland Reticence—Aberfeldy Curing-stone
—Lapis Ceranius and Lapis Hecticus—Bernera—St. Ronan’s Altar—Blue Stone
in Fladda—Baul Muluy again—Columba’s White Stone—Loch Manaar—Well
near Loch Torridon—Stones besides Springs—Healing-stones at Killin—Their
connection with Fillan—Mornish—Altars and Crosses—Iona—Clach-a-brath—
Cross at Kilberry—Lunar Stone in Harris—Perforated Stones—Ivory—Barbeck’s
Bone—Adder-beads—Sprinkling Cattle—Elf-bolts—Clach-na-Bratach—Clach
Dearg—Lee Penny—Lockerbie Penny—Black Penny.

We have already seen that in early times water was an object of worship.
Stones also were reverenced as the embodiments of nature-deities. “In
Western Europe during the middle ages,” remarks Sir J. Lubbock in his
“Origin of Civilisation,” “we meet with several denunciations of stone-
worship, proving its deep hold on the people. Thus the worship of stones
was condemned by Theodoric, Archbishop of Canterbury, in the seventh
century, and is among the acts of heathenism forbidden by King Edgar in
the tenth, and by Cnut in the eleventh century.” Even as late as the
seventeenth century, the Presbytery of Dingwall sought to suppress, among
other practices of heathen origin, that of rendering reverence to stones, the
stones in question having been consulted as to future events. It is not
surprising therefore that stones had certain mysterious properties ascribed to
them. In all ages precious stones have been deservedly admired for their
beauty, but, in addition, they have frequently been esteemed for their occult
qualities. “In my youth,” Mr. James Napier tells us, in his “Folklore in the
West of Scotland,” “there was a belief in the virtue of precious stones,
which added a value to them beyond their real value as ornaments …. Each
stone had its own symbolic meaning and its own peculiar influence for
imparting good and protecting from evil and from sickness its fortunate
possessor.” By the ancient Jews, the topaz and the amethyst were believed
to guard their wearers respectively against poison and drunkenness; while
the diamond was prized as a protection against Satanic influence.
Concerning the last-mentioned gem, Sir John Mandeville, writing about
1356, says, “It makes a man stronger and firmer against his enemies, heals
him that is lunatic, and those whom the fiend pursues and torments.” By
certain sects of the Gnostics, precious stones were much thought of as
talismans. Among the sect founded by Basilides of Egypt, the famous
Abraxas gems were used as tokens by the initiated. The Gnostics also
placed gems inscribed with mystic mottoes in sarcophagi, to remind the
dead of certain prayers that were thought likely to aid them in the other
world. In Scandinavia, warriors were in the habit of carrying about with
them amulets called life-stones or victory-stones. These strengthened the
hand of the wearer in fight. In our own country, the use of amulets was not
uncommon. A flat oval-shaped pebble, measuring two and a half inches in
greatest diameter, was presented in 1864 to the Society of Antiquaries of
Scotland. It had been worn as a charm by a Forfarshire farmer, who died in
1854 at the age of eighty-four. When in use, it had been kept in a small bag
and suspended by a red string round the wearer’s neck.

Even when stones were not used as amulets, they were sometimes held in
superstitious regard. When in Mull, Martin was told of a yellow stone, lying
at the bottom of a certain spring in the island, its peculiarity being that it did
not get hot, though kept over the fire for a whole day. The same writer
alludes to a certain stone in Arran, called Baul Muluy, i.e., “Molingus, his
Stone Globe.” It was green in colour, and was about the size of a goose’s
egg. The stone was used by the islanders, when great oaths had to be sworn.
It was also employed to disperse an enemy. When thrown among the front
ranks, the opposing army would retreat in confusion. In this way the
Macdonalds were said to have gained many a victory. When not in use, the
Baul Muluy was carefully kept wrapped up in cloth. Among oath-stones,
the black stones of Iona were specially famous. These were situated to the
west of St. Martin’s Cross, and were called black, not from their colour—
for they were grey—but from the effects of perjury in the event of a false
oath being sworn by them. Macdonald, Lord of the Isles, knelt on them,
and, with uplifted hands, swore that he would never recall the rights granted
by him to his vassals. Such a hold had these oath-stones taken on the
popular imagination, that when anyone expressed himself certain about a
particular thing, he gave weight to his affirmation, by saying that he was
prepared to “swear upon the black stones.” Bishop Pocoke mentions that
the inhabitants of Iona “were in the habit of breaking off pieces from a
certain stone lying in the church,” to be used “as medicine for man or beast
in most disorders, and especially the flux.”

Charm-stones were sometimes associated with early saints. The following

particulars about St. Declan’s Stone are given by Sir Arthur Mitchell in the
tenth volume of the “Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland”:
—“We are told in the life of St. Declan that a small stone was sent to him
from Heaven while he was saying Mass in a church in Italy. It came through
the window and rested on the altar. It was called Duivhin Deaglain or
Duivh-mhion Deaglain, i.e., ‘Declan’s Black Relic.’ It performed many
miracles during his life, being famous for curing sore eyes, headaches, &c.;
and is said to have been found in his grave sometime, I think, during last
century. Its size is two and a-fourth by one and three-fourth inches, and on
one side there is a Latin cross, incised and looped at the top. At the bottom
of the stem of this cross there is another small Latin cross. On the other side
of the stone there is a circle, one and a-fourth inch in diameter, and six holes
or pits.” Curing stones are still used occasionally in connection with the
diseases of cattle, particularly in Highland districts; but they have ceased to
do duty in the treatment of human ailments. Mary Queen of Scots seems to
have been a firm believer in their efficacy. In a letter to her brother-in-law,
Henry the Third of France, written on the eve of her execution, the Queen
says, “She ventures to send him two rare stones, valuable for the health,
which she hopes will be good, with a happy and long life, asking him to
receive them as the gift of his very affectionate sister-in law, who is at the
point of death, and in token of true love towards him.” In a case of
curiosities at Abbotsford, there is an amulet that belonged to Sir Walter
Scott’s mother. It somewhat resembles crocodile skin in colour, and has a
setting of silver. The amulet was believed to prevent children from being
bewitched.

It is nowadays difficult to ascertain the whereabouts of curing-stones in the

Highlands, owing to the reticence of those who still have faith in their