IF the reader will glance at any good map of the north shore of
the Moray Firth, among the places named he will find Hilton,
Balintore, and Shandwick. These are villages composed
exclusively of fishing families, who are entirely dependent on
the sea for their living. To the antiquarian, the first and last
named villages will, at least, be known by reputation. Tradition
has it that they mark the burial place of two of the sons of the
Kings of Denmark, who were wrecked on this coast. In the case of
the Hilton stone, perhaps I ought to mention that it was removed
by the late R. B. AL. Macleod of Cadboll to his residence—Invergordon
Castle—a good many years ago, and that the little house—the "
chapel," as it was locally known—is razed to the ground. The
stone, however, is in a perfect state of preservation, and
appears to be well taken care of; but I think it only right to
put the fact of its being removed from its original site on
record, as in recent references to it by archaeological writers,
it is assumed to be still at Hilton. Although these villages are
about a mile apart from one another, yet, in most respects, they
may be regarded as one. There are, however, some things upon
which they do not think alike.
The fishermen of the three villages as a class are sober,
honest, and God-fearing, but exceedingly poor. Poverty has
always been, to a greater or less degree, present with them; in
fact, it is part of their very existence. Of course, it
fluctuates in degree, according to the success which attends the
herring fishing. It is upon the herring that they depend for the
sinews of war to pay for their boats and fishing gear, and the
many other items of extraordinary expenditure connected with the
economy of the household. With the exception of the few weeks
that the herring fishing takes them away from home, they are for
the rest of the year engaged in line fishing. In this industry
they have to contend with a great disadvantage in not having a
harbour. In discussing the condition of these people with the
late Mr Robert Bruce ^Eneas Macleod of Cadboll, who had the
interests of fishermen peculiarly at heart, he admitted that the
villages were established in situations which were quite
unfavourable to their existence. They were, he said, exposed to
every wind that blew; they were too far from the fishing banks ;
and they had no harbour accommodation. The first assertion
cannot for a moment be gainsaid, but, in the case of the second
and third objection, they are scarcely tenable. The chief cause
of the impoverished condition of these poor people is the want
of good harbours. It is quite true that a harbour of a very
unsubstantial character had been built at Hilton about sixty
years ago, but it was in such a position that it succumbed to
the first great storm. The best of its stones were afterwards
carried away, and used in the building of farm offices. I am
glad to see that, after repeated endeavours and many years of
patient waiting, there is now the near prospect of getting a
substantial harbour built at Balintore, the central village.
The villagers at present are compelled to fish in smaller boats
than the requirements of the case demand, and it naturally
follows that when there is a fresh breeze on, or the least
appearance of a squall, they never venture out of port. It must
indeed be tantalizing to these less fortunate fishermen to see
their brethren-in-trade from the south side of the Moray Firth
"beating" backwards and forwards in their tidy crafts, while
they are obliged to stay at home in abject misery. When they do
venture out the boats have in the first place to be launched
from a point considerably above high water mark. This, as can
easily be understood, is attended with much extra labour, and by
far the heaviest share of it falls to the wives and daughters of
the fishermen. The reader will please imagine that he or she is
standing on the spot where the boats are beached. Although the
hour is still early, perhaps two, three, or four o'clock in the
morning, yet all the villagers are astir. The men can be seen in
small groups anxiously discussing the weather. While they are
thus engaged, all at once a stentorian shout of "a' mhuir" (the
sea) is raised, and in an instant every man rushes to the line
rack, where the creel containing the baited line is in a state
of readiness. He hoists it on his shoulder, and runs as for dear
life to the beach. The women take up the shout as well as the
men; it is of equal significance to them. They in the first
place make a dart for the "keilkeiach"—a piece of cord about
three yards long, which is hung up in a convenient place near
the door, and at such an altitude that no little one can reach
it. Armed with this they rush after the men to the beach. The
first process is to kilt their petticoats above the knee, and
then they assist the men to launch the boats. Every boat's crew
strives as to which of them hoists the first sail. In the
launching process, as soon as the boat touches the water, the
men stand back, but the hardy women still rush it forward till
such time as the craft is afloat. The next process is to
transfer the men into the boat, and this is done by the women,
who carry them on their backs. Next the masts, sails, lines, &c,
have to be put into the boats by the women. When it is borne in
mind that this ordeal has to be gone through summer and
winter—all the year round—every person must admit that the
women's lot is not by any means an enviable one. But the
drenching in the morning is not what they have most to complain
of. They have to provide bait for the lines for the following
day's fishing, and at certain seasons of the year they have to
collect it in Nigg Bay, a distance of about six miles. In the
afternoon the boats return to port. The men are landed dry-shod,
the gear is transferred to land, the creels containing the
lines, and the day's catch, be it muckle or little, are taken
ashore, and the boat has to be pulled above high water mark.
Often have I witnessed the women completely drenched, and more
than once carried off their feet, and running narrow risks of
being drowned. Yet they are never heard to complain, and are
never known to shirk this disagreeable work. One thing that
accounts for this is the fact that they have been accustomed to
it from < childhood, and they submit to it as an inevitable
fate, from which there is no escape. The boats being berthed
beyond the reach of the highest tide, the work of dividing the
day's catch is next proceeded with. The whole is collected into
one heap on the beach, and is divided by the men into as many
shares as the number of the crew, and afterwards lots are cast
upon the shares. There are various ways of disposing of the
fish. At times a curer settles down in their midst, and buys the
haddock and cod, but the whiting and other species are for home
consumption, and for sale among the "tuath," or country people.
Tain, about eight miles distant, is regularly visited, and the
burdens—varying from half a cwt. to one cwt. and a half—are
carried by these hardy females with apparent ease.
Of course there are occasional lulls caused by storms. Then is
the time for the men to repair their nets and lines, and see to
it that the fishing craft is in a sea-worthy condition. The
good-wives betake themselves to looking after the internal
arrangements of the household, which, during a spell of good
weather, receive only scant attention. Their food is of the
plainest possible description. Their chief articles of diet are
potatoes and fish. They are also heavy drinkers of tea, using it
several times a day. They seldom eat flesh—perhaps on the
occasion of a marriage or upon New-Year's Day. All the men smoke
tobacco, and are thorough believers in the virtue of a dram,
although it cannot be said that they drink to excess. All the
fishermen of Hilton, and the greater part of Balintore, are
adherents of the Free Church, while the Shandwickers are very
staunch Seceders, or, as now called, United Presbyterians. So
loyal are the Seceders to their own church, that on the return
of those of their number who go to the West Coast fishing, on
their first appearance in their own church, they drop a coin
into the collection, which makes up, in lump, for the Sabbaths
upon which they have been absent. When at home, they never visit
a sister church, but are most regular in their attendance at the
various diets of worship in their own. Indeed, no class of the
community can vie with them in that respect. The Sabbath day is
scrupulously observed ; no work of any kind is done, and in the
case of some of them, they do not even cook their meals on that
day, and it is regarded as an unlucky thing to wash dishes on
the Sabbath. All the water has to be carried home on the
Saturday, the men shave, and there is a general stoppage of work
of all kind on the Saturday night. On Sabbath morning a good
many of them resort as early as seven o'clock to the
meeting-house, where two hours are spent in prayer. They next go
to church, and the greater proportion of them sit out two
sermons, but every man and woman makes it a point of honour to
attend the Gaelic service in the church. A custom is prevalent
in the Free Church of Fearn which I never observed in any other
part of the Highlands. It is, however, confined to the fishing
population of the congregation. A worthy couple walk gravely up
to the church door. The female, as a rule, approaches the elder
that stands at the plate and presents him with a penny piece. He
knows his duty. He, without a moment's hesitation, gives two
half-pennies in exchange. Both the man and wife then pass into
the church, each dropping a half-penny into the plate with the
air of persons who have done their duty. Nearly all the men and
women above forty years are, as regards English, illiterate, but
they can read the Gaelic New Testament.
As regards politics, and the other social and general questions
which agitate the country in other quarters, these villagers
entirely ignore them. Not a single fisherman invests a copper in
a newspaper of any shade of politics whatever. The merchant, the
shoemaker, and the village baker supply them with the current
news. The wives and daughters who regularly hawk fish over the
country have always something new to tell; but a story of the
scandalous kind, particularly if it refers to some well-known
individual, is of more interest to them than if Lord Salisbury
granted Home Rule to Ireland on the lines propounded by Mr
Gladstone. In stormy weather the men are in the habit of
collecting in groups at particular places, and it is there that
the current gossip of the day is set forth. In the course of
their discussions, they never make an assertion on their own
account; they always like to give their authority, although
sometimes it is of a very shady description. It is their custom
to talk in such a loud tone of voice that a stranger, hearing
them for the first time, would naturally imagine they were in
the midst of a fierce quarrel; and yet they very rarely, indeed,
do seriously quarrel.
Besides the herring and the line fishing, there are other
particular things in which they are engaged in the course of the
year. A great event is the " ware day," which usually comes
round on the ist of April. Sea-ware is the manure which they use
for growing their potatoes. For some days prior to the
recognised day, the men congregate at their regular meeting
places, and watch one another with the utmost care. They talk of
everything or anything but that which holds the first place in
their minds. By the time that there is full ebb, very much the
same piece of etiquette is observed as when going to the
fishing. One of the older men, who is recognised as a leader,
shouts at the pitch of his voice, in Gaelic, "To the ware," and
in a moment every capable man and woman are seen rushing, hook
in hand and creel on back, in the direction of the rocks. Asa
rule, every householder confines himself to the rocks opposite
his own house, and any violation of this unwritten law is
regarded with the greatest disfavour. The ware time lasts, as a
rule, for three days, and sometimes more. Their next business is
to get it carted to the rigs, which they hire from the
surrounding farmers. Potato land is a scarce commodity, and were
it not that some farmers regularly let them ground, they would
be in very bad case. As a rule, they pay very long prices for
this land—£4. or £5 an acre, according to quality—but it is
necessary to charge a big price, as a good deal of the rents is
never paid.
All the fishermen marry at an early age. The general rule is
that a man selects a wife from among his own kith and kin,
although some wives have been imported from the fishing villages
of Sutherlandshire and other coast villages. A good fishing
season always produces a correspondingly large number of
marriages. Friday is the universal marriage day among the fisher
people. The ceremony is of the simplest possible description,
but must be in proper form. Prior to the marriage there is a "raiteach,"
or covenant night, the following Friday the "ceangal," or
contract, and on the third Friday thereafter the marriage. On
the night prior to the marriage the ancient rite of feet washing
is tenaciously adhered to. A very curious custom is observed in
this connection. A lad and a lass, with pail in hand, are
despatched to a spring for water for this particular work. One
of the conditions is that they must not speak to one another on
any pretence whatever, neither are they to speak to any person
by the way, and if they are accosted they must not respond. A
violation of this law would be the foreboding of an unhappy life
between the parties about to be married. For this reason only
the most trustworthy of friends can be safely sent for the
mystic water. All marriages take place in the manse, about two
miles distant. The bride, leaning on the arm of her father or a
near friend, is followed by a procession of bridesmaids and
young men. They walk in couples. At a short interval the
bridegroom's party follows. 1 had the curiosity to ask why
precedence was given to the bride in being the first to leave
home for the purpose of being married. I was told by an old
woman— "He follows her to-day, but she is to follow him
afterwards." A few years ago I remember seeing two couples from
one of the villages named entering the Free Church of Fearn, the
first Sunday after their marriage, to be "kirked"—a ceremony to
which considerable importance is attached in Easter Ross. Both
couples sat out the two* sermons, Gaelic and English, which
occupied over four hours. No sooner was the "Amen " of the
benediction said than a rush was' made for the door by the
respective couples and their trains. The route regularly
traversed was not chosen by either party on this occasion—a
circuitous pathway traversed by the local " gentry" was
preferred, although it doubled the length of walk. Both parties
marched at a very swift pace, and it became apparent that the
one set endeavoured to out-walk the other. Being curious to know
what it all meant, I asked an old matron, and she replied by
saying, "Nach yeil fios agadgur e d chiad chupal a ruigeas am
bade a gheibh d bheannachd?" "Don't you know that it is the
first couple that reaches the village which will get the
blessing?" I am not sure whether the couple which reached the
village first got any particular blessing, but this I am
satisfied of, that they both strove very hard for it. This leads
me to say that, although they are, as a class, a very sober and
religiously-inclined set of people, they are, on the other hand,
very superstitious. Pointing the first finger of the hand to a
sailing vessel is considered uncanny ; and to even mention the
word "bradan" or :"salmon," while proceeding to fish for any
other kind of fish, is a sure sign of a poor return. I shall not
readily forget the reprimand I got from a grave fisherman for
innocently, as far as I was concerned, asking a question
regarding a salmon net which we happened to be sailing by at the
time.
The older men have no clear notion of past facts and dates. If
you ask any of them what is his age, he will answer that he was
so many years "when the church came out"—the Disruption. And
their great epoch of all is. marked by the ravages which the
cholera made in those villages in the year 1836, when nearly
half the population fell victims to that most terrible scourge.
The mortality was so great that coffins could not be provided
for the dead, and, in many cases, bodies had to be rudely
wrapped in a piece of sail, and buried in the sand-banks in the
neighbourhood of the villages. An old carter who lived in one of
the villages had a busy time of it then conveying the corpses to
their last resting place. Asked how he managed to escape, he
said that he never allowed himself to cool from the effects of
drink. "In fact," he said, "my stomach was tinned with it, so
that the cholera would not dare on me." Be that as it may, he
did escape it, and lived for many years afterwards, and often
told his experiences of the cholera year. When a death occurs in
any of the villages, work of all kind is suspended till after
the burial. Every man who accompanies the funeral is supplied
with a dram. The coffin is placed on a bier, and carried on the
shoulder by turns of about five minutes.
A good many of the younger men are members of the Royal Naval
Reserve, and attend the annual training at Inverness. Besides
being in receipt of about 20s a week during the four weeks that
they are at Inverness, they also receive a bounty quarterly of
something like 12s. Another source of revenue is the rearing of
pigs. Every family keeps one pig, and, in a good many cases,
two, and they are regularly sold at the pig market, held monthly
at the Hill of Fearn, which is unique in the north of Scotland
as being the only exclusively pig market held there.
These Easter Ross fishers are different from those living on the
West Coast and in Sutherlandshire. There they have all, or
nearly all, a small plot of ground, upon which they can raise
some food for their families. In the case of the Easter Ross
fishermen, they have not a square yard that they can call their
own.
A great many of the rising generation are betaking themselves to
other trades and professions, and many of the sons of fishermen
are at the present moment occupying positions of trust in all
parts of the world. Few, or comparatively few, of the young are
taking to the sea as a profession. I will venture to predict
that, within fifty years, Hilton and Shandwickfwill become
places of the past. In the case of Balintore, it will endure for
a longer period, as it is to have a harbour, which will
encourage the younger people to follow their fathers' calling.
The inhabitants of these three villages are at the present
moment the most poverty-stricken and the most destitute class of
fishermen in the Highlands. Yet, in the face of all that, their
voice is never heard ; they are law-abiding, they live honestly,
and they do not obtrude themselves upon their neighbours.
ALEX. M. ROSS.
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