An Account of a Singular Event in the Parish of Ey
A one-off piece of historical speculative fiction for Christmastime.
This short story was written for my family’s annual Christmas creative writing spree this year. It attempts to borrow the voice of Martin Martin, a Highland scholar of the late 17th and early 18th century, best known for his Description of the Western Islands of Scotland, Circa 1695, which was first published in 1703 and is still available in bookshops today. Martin was a native Gaelic speaker from the Isle of Skye, which made him an able interpreter of Island society and culture for the English-speaking scholarly milieu in which he ended up. His book includes some fascinating descriptions and analysis of the Second Sight, which was the inspiration for this story.
From: Zak Newton <newtonz@royalsociety.org>
To: Heather MacKenzie <h.mackenzie@nationallibraryofscotland.org>
Date: 20 December 2023 at 14:32 GMT
Subject: Martin Martin’s Christmas? You are not going to believe what we just found
Hey Heather,
It was really great to see you again at the symposium last month. Always good to catch up.
Let me cut to the chase, because I’ve got something to tell you that is going to be like ten Christmases come early. I tried to phone a few minutes ago, but you were out - office Christmas lunch?
Anyway, remember that chat we had about your man Martin Martin? I asked our newest minion research assistant to have a dig through the archives. It took a while, he found an orphaned index card that pointed to an annex that was blown up in the War, blah de blah, but by a stroke of luck he eventually tracked down Hans Sloane’s papers, mouldering in a box in the deepest darkest recesses. And guess what… bingo! A letter from your man. I’ve taken photos, see attached, but you’re going to want to get down the East Coast line as soon as you’ve recovered from your Hogmanay hangover. Sadly, there’s no sign of the “runes and arcane symbols” he said he transcribed.
I find him really quite fascinating, though of course I know almost nothing about the chap, unlike you. Like, the proto-scientific way (as we would see it) he makes claims and presents evidence. The Royal Society was sent (and printed) a lot of weird shit (by our standards) back in the day, so it’s not that unusual. But I’m fascinated by how he accepts and argues for some things modern science would say are totally unscientific, and rejects / ignores other things. We’re looking now to see if Hans Sloane did anything with Martin’s letter, though I’m guessing that if it was published, an earlier Martin scholar would have dug it up already. Bags I get second author on your paper when you publish?
Call me, but if you don’t get a chance before the holidays, Merry Christmas!
Best,
Zak
One attachment (scanned by DeepSee™)
TO the Honourable Hans Sloane, Esq.,
Secretary of the Royal Society, London
July, 1710
Leiden
My dear Sir,
It has long been my intention to communicate with you this account of a most curious event to which I had the singular opportunity of being a witness, which event took place in the year of our Lord 1707 but which owing to certain circumstances in connection with my duties to His Grace the Earl of Bradford I was not at leisure to compose adequately until this present time.
You will no doubt recollect, sir, some aspects of my earlier Description of the Western Islands of Scotland, in connexion with that voyage of which you were so kind a patron. For myself, I recall with both fondness and some small dissatisfaction the lengthy debates which were conducted over my account of the Second Sight, following my delivery of that account. My conclusion, as I took pains to explicate in my Description, was that those who are not satisfied with the reality of these accounts must needs provide another system with the power of adequate explanation of those facts observed by diverse individuals not only in the Western Islands but also in Wales, Holland, &c. My observation, sir, is that such as deny the reality of these visions are frequently to be found also to be such as deny the intelligence and temperance of the Islanders as compared with the inhabitants of the larger cities and beneficiaries of wealth and education; notwithstanding that those who have enjoyed such benefits seldom show such advantages in moderation of diet and drink and in moral character as the illiterate natives of the Isles.
It is therefore with no small satisfaction that I present before you, sir, and before the esteemed Society which you represent, the following account, as further evidence which must be taken into consideration. This event was observed by me personally, during my most recent visits to the Island of Lewis, in the Christmas-tide of the year 1707. A sequel to this incident was narrated to me in the Spring of this present year, by a most reliable kinsman, upon his visit to London following a tour of the said Island in the months previous.
I anticipate eagerly, my dear sir, our further correspondence upon this matter. I am now at the University at Leiden1, where I expect to remain this twelvemonth or more.
I remain, sir, with deep respect and sincere gratitude,
Your humble and obedient servant,
M. Martin.
An Account of a Singular Event in the Parish of Ey, in the Island of Lewis, in the Year of our Lord 1707.
During Christmas-tide in the year 1707, it chanced that I found myself in the hamlet known as Back, by the shores of the bay known at Loch-tua, in the north-eastern district of the Island of Lewis. This hamlet properly belongs to the Parish of Ey, which is dedicated to St Columba, although the small chapel nearby in the village of Grease, newly repaired at the time of my previous visit, is dedicated to St Aula. My prior design of returning to my native land in the Island of Skie being thwarted by the onset of a violent storm, I cast myself on the hospitality of the local inhabitants.
The natives of that district being much given to hospitality, and my intercourse with them hindered in no way by difficulty of language, as the Irish2 tongue spoken in that region is that with which I have been familiar since my youth, I passed some days among them in such comfort as the circumstances could afford. The winter season in those regions is passing dark and given to much precipitation, with the prevailing winds from Westward. The gale which arose in the course of my sojourn at Back, however, was blowing from a North or North-Easterly direction, and as winds from that quarter during the winter season are wont, occasioned a great blizzard.
The snow cast down by this blizzard was of a quantity I have observed not above twice or thrice in my life. The dwelling-places of the natives, which consist in the main of the long low thatched houses known in the Irish as tigh-du, were covered on the windward side to a depth of four feet or more, although on the lee side the snow reached no more than one or one-and-a-half feet. My hosts, a family of the clan Mack-Donald, dared not allow the cattle or fowls to go out from the byre room at the end of the building, in which they are habitually accommodated, and on that account, as well as the several persons of the family together with myself being obliged to stay indoors for those days, the air within the dwelling became exceeding close. We feared not for warmth, for the supply of peat, used by the natives as fuel, was readily to hand in the store-room. Our sustenance was also assured, as they have the prudent habit of storing up as large a stock of provisions as may be needed for the dark winter months when the land is bare and the weather uncertain for fishing. There was thus little discomfort beyond the tedium that necessarily accompanies prolonged inactivity in confined quarters.
On the third day of the storm, towards the second part of the afternoon, we observed a diminution of the wind. Towards sunset (which in those parts in that season is early, being between three and four of the clock), the storm was greatly reduced, and the villagers were quick to venture forth after their confinement. The natives are much given to frequent visits in each other’s homes, in which they share news of interest and exchange tales and stories of all sorts, as well as singing and playing upon such musical instruments as are available to them. Being deprived of such commerce during the days of the storm, there was much delight in opening their dwellings once more. The young men were industrious in clearing the heavier of the snowdrifts from the more frequented paths between one house and the next. The children rejoiced exceedingly in the unfamiliar scene manifested to them, and there was much merriment in the battles they fought among the drifts.
As I observed the happy scene, Mr John Mack-Donald, the head of the household, known popularly as Iain Mòr (in the Irish language signifying Big John), approached from the home of a neighbour upon whom he had called. Mr Mack-Donald gave me to understand that one of the children of that home suffered a fever, against which the usual native remedies had proved ineffectual. There being no regular healer in that hamlet, and the road to the village of Grease being yet impassable, he desired me to examine the child, as in the course of my lodging with them they had learnt of my intention to study at Leiden.
Upon entering the home, I found the child, a boy of eight or nine years, well wrapt in the bed closest the fire yet shaking violently from the force of the fever. His Mother, following the custom, had let his blood copiously, which cure is often sufficient for the common type of fever. They had thereupon applied a dose of Trestarig water, or Usquebaugh3 thrice distilled, diluted in proportion to the size of the child. There being no further remedy available to me and fearing that further blood-letting may have been of detriment rather than benefit, I sought to comfort the parents and encourage them to trust the child to God. The Mother indeed at this news looked very piteous and alarmed.
At this instant, there entered an elderly man of the name Donald Morison, known by the natives as Dòl an Fàigh, signifying Donald the Seer, by which name he has been known since his youth, for he is well attested in that parish as having the ability of Second Sight. This Donald came to enquire after the family. Some few moments after seating himself by the fire, the company observed his eyes to roll towards the roof and his posture to stiffen. This occasioned no small alarm, this being the customary sign of his receiving a vision. The boy’s mother trembled greatly, and the father became exceedingly pale in the face, for they feared the seer would report the sight of their child’s coffin. Yet when the seer spoke, he said, in the Irish language, Sin thu fhèin, a Chaluim, that is to the effect of there you are, Malcolm, such being the boy’s name. The mother cried out at these words, yet I observed the old man’s expression to be peaceful. When his usual senses were restored some minutes later, he reported seeing the boy running out the door in full health, at which the company was greatly comforted, for their trust in the seer’s sayings is very great. The father asked simply when it might come to pass, upon which the old man told them certainly before evening of the next day.
On account of this happy news, in conjunction with the cessation of the great storm, and in honour of the following day being Christmas-Day, a large number of the natives gathered that evening in my host’s home. The usquebaugh flowed very freely, and many wild and wondrous stories were told. The events that followed next, however, may sound wilder than those uncouth tales. Yet I must beg the reader to trust the evidence presented here.
When the evening was some way advanced, I chanced to be in conversation with the Donald Morison mentioned above, the seer, as I wished to enquire of him regarding his experiences. At this moment, there entered into the company a son of the family, known by them as Iain Òg, which signifies Young John, being named for my host, his father. Young John at this time was a youth of twenty years, as yet unmarried. The room being much crowded and attention turning to the young man as he entered, the expression of the seer was not immediately observed by most of the people, yet in my position I could hardly avoid witnessing the signs of his entering into a vision. It lasted only a few moments, but when the old man came out of the trance, he appeared greatly shaken, as evidenced by the pallor of his brow and a manifest tremor in his frame. I commenced to take his pulse, and being observed by my neighbours, the facts of his vision came out. The old man was exceeding unwilling to explain what he had seen, yet on being entreated to speak, acceded, albeit with great reluctance. From his demeanour, we could but judge that he had seen some premonition of evil news.
“I saw Iain Òg,” he began, speaking with some hoarseness of voice, “come into the room with his bride.”
At this there was some noise of satisfaction among the company, from which I gathered that this had long been the desire of the young man’s family and friends. The seer’s next words, however, were the cause of great consternation.
“But what I saw is impossible,” the old man continued. “For I saw him with Anna.”
At these words there was a silence in the house, broken only by the small noises of the fire. For, as I learned soon after, Anna was a girl of the village Grease, formerly betrothed to Young John, that had been lost the summer before in a most tragic fashion. It seems that during a low tide, she had gone with other women of the village to gather shell-fish in the bay. The other women returned ahead of her, Anna having expressed a wish to stay longer upon the rocks. She never returned to the village, and although her body was not found, the basket or creel in which she had gathered the shell-fish was found washed up on the shore one or two days later, from which they deduced that she had been caught and perished in the rising tide. Her betrothed, Young John, being heartbroken, had refused to look at any woman since.
“You’ve had too much to drink, Donald,” said my host, although I could see that his face also had assumed a deadly pallor. Young John was sitting now opposite us, with his face in his hands, but gathering his strength, he stood and left the house with some rapidity.
“I say only what I saw,” said the old man. “I myself do not understand it. But Anna was there, as his wife, and it will take place no more than one month from now.”
The company were hard pressed, for they had a great respect for the seer and were accustomed to the fulfilment of his prophecies, yet this seemed truly impossible. They knew, as I did, that the usquebaugh was not the cause of the seer’s vision, for the old man was very abstemious and I, who had sat with him much of the evening, had seen him drink only water. The party dispersed not long afterwards, each one being eager to report the events of the evening to his own family.
The following day, Christmas-Day, dawned fair with a light wind from the East. It being the tradition at Christmas for the natives to attend the chapel at Grease, the young men set out early to attempt a clearing of the road. Being eager to resume my own journey at an early opportunity and desiring to see the conditions and assist as needed, I accompanied them. In the company was Young John, whose listless disposition and pale complexion suggested he had slept little in the intervening night.
A little way past the edge of the hamlet, towards the shore, the snow was found to lie less thickly, and we made good progress towards Grease, which lies somewhat to the north of Back and on the other side of the Grease River. The road in one portion climbs a small eminence from which the sands may be viewed. As our party crested this eminence, one of the men exclaimed, drawing our attention to something that appeared to be a small boat or skiff, at the edge of the water. It being a little past high tide, it appeared that this boat had drifted ashore on the tide and was now stranded as the waters receded. The sea that day being still very tumultuous, in consequence of the recent storm, the waves were dashing against the stern of the boat with no little violence. With one accord, the men ran towards the vessel to secure it from the grasp of the waters. As I followed, I noted the presence of two biggish seals in the second line of waves from the shore, of a grey colour yet somewhat lighter than the seals commonly observed in that island. These animals, as is common in that curious and inquisitive species, did not flee as the men approached the boat, but seemed to watch with great interest, keeping to the same position very near the boat and seeming to crane their heads towards it from every wave crest.
On reaching the skiff, the men wasted no time in seizing it and, with some effort, hauling it out of reach of the waves, which that day were of a deep grey-black hue. The vessel was not dissimilar to the native craft, yet with certain features that suggested an origin closer to the Orknies or Shetland Isles. When we looked closer, however, we saw clearly that the hull was marked with runes and arcane symbols, unlike any that I have seen in the course of my travels through these islands. The men examined these with many exclamations of curiosity. I later had the opportunity to transcribe a portion of these runes, and have enclosed a copy with this letter.
The second feature of note was a heavy tarpaulin lashed across much of the open part of the boat. On later examination, this was found to be of a species of leather produced from the skin of some variety of whale, or so I conjecture, for it was unlike any leather I have seen from any land animal, and yet certainly it was from the skin of some animal. The men looked doubtful at first, but when one man moved to open the tarpaulin, all stirred themselves to assist, for the material was heavy and stiff with salt, although the boat was no larger than would hold one or two men with comfort.
It happened that Iain Òg was nearest the bow of the boat as the tarpaulin was pulled back, and as the light of the sun struck the contents of the boat, he screamed and fell to the sand in a dead faint. I rushed immediately to aid him, noting only that there appeared to be a figure prone in the belly of the boat. Assuring myself that Young John was in no danger, and reviving him after a few moments with the stimulus of a few drops of brandy, of which I happily chanced to be carrying a small flask, I turned my attention to the boat, for there was now a great commotion among the men.
I saw in the boat the figure of a woman, yet at first sight she appeared not fully woman but as if the body of a great grey seal were monstrously to have the face of a woman. Her face was very white and she appeared dead or in a faint. The men were shaking and appeared like to faint themselves, for they told me that her face was the very image of Anna Mack-Leod who had been betrothed to Young John.
Some of the men were for pushing the skiff back into the waters, exclaiming that there was a curse upon it. Nevertheless, I persuaded those of more sense among them to help me lift the figure from the boat and lay it on the sand of the beach. On so doing, we discovered that it was no selkie or other monster, but truly a woman, yet wrapped in a thick cloak made from the skin of a seal, with its head and feet yet attached, although cured in some obscure fashion. Within this cloak, she was robed in a thick dress or coat of the feathers and down of some species of sea-fowl. The down of such fowl being very efficacious against cold and intemperate weathers, her flesh within this dress was warm, and it was evident to all that she was yet living. I made haste to apply my flask of brandy. As I did so, it chanced that I looked up towards the water, and saw the same two seals as before, seeming to take a final look at the scene, and then diving into the black waves, after which I saw them no more.
The men declared that this was the Anna that had been lost, and Young John confirmed it, trembling. Yet we were unable to revive her, and could but fashion a litter from the sealskin robe in which she had been wrapt, and carry her back to the village. Young John took the greatest share of the burden, staring like a man near to delirium. On our return to the village, the commotion was exceeding great. The woman was brought to my host’s house, as being more commodious than most, and a messenger sent to Grease village to find her grieving family. Only the seer seemed less than wholly surprised, for none had expected this manner of fulfilment of his prophecy of the previous night.
For some hours, Anna lay unmoving, with only the slight evidence of her breath and pulse to show that life remained in her body. All the possible remedies were applied, including the use of a draught of water blessed at the Chapel of St Moluag which lies in the northern part of the island and valued greatly by the natives as a cure for insanity. At length, towards evening, she was observed to stir. Young John, who had not left her side, cried out in excitement and, leaning forward, kissed her brow, upon which her eyes opened. She recognised him, for we observed her expression to change, and a flush of life blossomed across her brow. Young John knelt by the bed and wept, with cries of gratitude to God. His mother had prepared some brochan, or thin gruel, which they fed to her in small spoonfuls, for she was very weak and unable to lift her head or speak or do other than indicate her joy with her eyes. Nevertheless, there was great rejoicing in the village that evening.
On the following day, Anna was able to sit up and feed herself, and the day after, she could alight from the bed and walk around. She stayed close to Young John, seeming afraid to move without him, although she greeted her own parents with delight when they arrived from Grease. Yet although her bodily strength thus returned, she was mute and seemed unable to speak. The application of another dose of the holy water was inefficacious. It was apparent that her understanding was not impaired, as she could nod or shake her head to indicate yes and no when questioned. Yet her mind seemed disordered, for she would in no wise respond to any except Young John and his parents and her own parents, and when questioned about her experiences in the six months she had been gone, she would stare at the fire and give no response. I counselled them to be patient and allow time to pass for her to recover from what can only have been a great ordeal. There was indeed much muttering in the village about the strange boat and its markings, and speak of witchcraft and the beasts known in some parts as selkies, being part man and part seal, and whenever I heard such wild talk I encouraged the natives to abandon such superstition, myself considering it much more likely that the maiden had been captured by foreign seafarers and taken into the North-East, as it was from that quarter that the storm had blown.
Some two or three days later, the snow having melted sufficiently that the road to Stornbay village was passable, in which village I planned to visit an acquaintance and from thence take ship to the Island of Skie, I departed the district of Grease. Here would end my part in this account, were it not that my younger relative, the scholar Mr Murdaugh Martin, happened to visit that same village some eighteen months after the time of the events which I have just recounted. I have the fullest confidence in the details which he subsequently transmitted to me.
Mr Murdaugh Martin arrived at the hamlet of Back in April of this year, and was hospitably entertained by the same John Mack-Donald with whom I lodged during that Christmas-tide of 1707. He met Young John and Anna, now his wife. They were married no more than one month following my departure from that district, and some seven and a half months later, in August of the year 1708, a child was born to them, a boy. My relative reports that it is common knowledge in the area that Young John cannot be this child’s father, for the child is dark-eyed, while Young John is blue-eyed, as is Anna, and none of dark eyes has yet been found to issue from two parents of blue eyes. He observed the boy, who is at the stage of walking and learning speech, and whom he reports as exceeding quick for a child of his age. He reports the child as having very large round brown eyes of an usual darkness, being very nearly black in appearance, and very white blond hair, fairer than is common among the natives of these islands. Yet the most striking feature is that the child’s skin is lightly covered with a whitish down or light fur, which extends over his whole body, somewhat in appearance like the fur of a seal pup yet of a lesser thickness. On this account, other families in the village treat them with great suspicion. They have attempted several native remedies for the child’s condition, with no effect.
Furthermore, Anna remains mute and communicates only with her husband and immediate family. Nevertheless, in a private conversation with Young John my relative learned that despite the vicissitudes of their circumstances, he and Anna are happy together and he is resigned to the mystery of her time away from them. The only contention among them seems to be that she is very unhappy and distressed when he goes to the sea, which indeed is a necessary part of life in those islands, for the natives rely upon the fishes and amphibia of these waters for their meat. Young John reported to my relative that whenever he departs for the sea, his wife clings to him to dissuade him from leaving, and on his safe return she rejoices greatly. She herself refuses to leave the village, and the child she will in no wise suffer to approach the shore.
Here ends my account of this strange and singular event, which is as great an evidence of the phenomenon known as Second Sight as any with which I am acquainted.
Martin studied Medicine at Leiden and then practiced as a doctor in London for several years before his death in 1718
That is, Gaelic
Whisky