Friday 7 June 2019

Gaelic Folklore (6): Urisk

6.
The Urisk

(Also known as: Ùruisg, ùraisg, urisg, urisk, ourisk , pheailladh, peailladh, pealladh or shellycoat.)

What follows are some descriptions and tales from old sources:

1.
Solitary fairy of Scottish Gaelic tradition, a subspecies of the fuath, half-man and half-goat, but not satyr-like, despite appearances. In many ways, the ùruisg is a rougher, hirsute brownie, given to helping at household chores, especially churning butter and cleaning, in spite of a reputation for good-humoured sloth. He has a taste for dairy products and is feared by dairy maids. Every manor house was reputed to have its resident ùruisg, and a seat in the kitchen close by the fire would be left vacant for him; he was lucky to have around. The ùruisg craves human companionship but almost always frightens people away with his unseemly appearance. He was also known to haunt lonely and sequestered places, notably a certain corrie near Loch Katrine. In spoken Scottish Gaelic the term ùruisg might also denote a diviner who foretells future events, or a savage-looking fellow. Urisks lived as solitairy fairies, but met together at stated times. 






A Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, by James MacKillop

The Urisk
There is also in the Highlands a rough hairy spirit, called the Urisk. The following legend will display his nature and character: To the very great annoyance of a Highland miller, and to the injury of the machinery, his mill, he found, used to be set to work at night when there was nothing in it to grind. One of his men offered to sit up, and try to discover who it was that did it; 'and, having kindled a good turf-fire, sat by it to watch. Sleep, however, overcame him, and when he awoke about midnight, he saw sitting opposite him a rough shaggy being. Nothing daunted, he demanded his name, and was told that it was Urisk. The stranger, in return, asked the man his name, who replied that it was Myself. The conversation here ended, and Urisk soon fell fast asleep. The man then tossed a panful of hot ashes into his shaggy lap, which set his hair all on fire. In an agony, and screaming with the pain, he ran to the door, and in a loud yelling tone several of his brethren were heard to cry out, "What 's the matter' with you?"
 "Oh! he set me on fire!"
"Who?"
"Myself!"
"Then put it out yourself" was the reply.

The Fairy Mythology, by Thomas Keightley, 1870


The Urisk.
The Urisk was a large lubberly supernatural, of solitary habits and harmless character, that haunted lonely and mountainous places. Some identify him with Brownie, but he differs from the fraternity of tutelary beings in having his dwelling, not in the houses or haunts of men, but in solitudes and remote localities. There were male and female Urisks, and the race was said to be the offspring of unions between mortals and fairies, that is, of the leannan sith. The Urisk was usually seen in the evening, big and grey), sitting on the top of a rock and peering at the intruders on its solitude. The wayfarer whose path led along the mountain side, whose shattered rocks are loosely sprinkled, or along some desert moor, and who hurried for the fast approaching nightfall, saw the Urisk sitting motionless on the top of a rock and gazing at him, or slowly moving out of his way. It spoke to some people, and is even said to have thrashed them, but usually it did not meddle with the passer-by. On the contrary, it at times gave a safe convoy to those who were belated. In the Highlands of Bread Albane the Urisk was said, in summer time, to stay in remote corries and on the highest part of certain hills. In winter time it came down to the strath, and entered certain houses at night to warm itself It was then it did work for the farmer, grinding, thrashing, etc. Its presence was a sign of prosperity; it was said to leave comfort behind it. Like Brownie, it liked milk and good food, and a present of clothes drove it away.

An Urisk, haunting Beinn Doohrain (a hill beloved of the Celtic muse) on the confines of Argyllshire and Perthshire, stayed in summer time near the top of the hill, and in winter came down to the straths. A waterfall near the village of Clifton at Tyndrum, where it stayed on these occasions, is still called Eas na h-uruisg, the Urisk's cascade. It was encountered by St. Fillan, who had his abode in a neighbouring strath, and banished to Rome.

4.
The Urisk of Ben Loy (Beinn Laoigh, the Calf's hill), also on the confines of these counties, came down in winter from his lofty haunts to the farm of Sococh, in Glen Orchy, which lies at the base of the mountain. It entered the house at night by the chimney, and it is related that on one occasion the bar, from which the chimney chain was suspended, and on which the Urisk laid its weight in descending, being taken away, and not meeting its foot as usual, the poor supernatural got a bad fall. It was fond of staying in a cleft at Moraig water-fall, and its labours, in keeping the waters from falling too fast over the rock, might be seen by any one. A stone, on which it sat with its feet dangling over the fall, is called 'the Urisk stone' (Clach na k-uruisg). It sometimes watched the herds of Sococh farm.

A man passing through Strath Duuisg, near Loch Sloy, at the head of Loch Lomond, on a keen frosty
night, heard an Urisk on one side of the glen calling out, " Frost, frost, frost " {reoth, reoth, reoth). This was answered by another Urisk calling from the other side of the glen, "Kick-frost, kick-frost, kick-frost" (ceige-reoth, etc.). The man, on hearing this, said, " Whether I wait or not for frost, I will never while I live wait for kickfrost" ; and he ran at his utmost speed till he was out of the glen.

The Urisk of the ' Yellow Water-fall ' in Glen Maili, in the south of Inverness-shire, used to come late every evening to a woman of the name of Mary, and sat watching her plying her distaff without saying a word. A man, who wished to get a sight of the Urisk, put on Mary's clothes, and sat in her place, twirling the distaff. as best he could. The Urisk came to the door but would not enter. It said :

" I see your eye, I see your nose,
I see your great broad beard,
And though you will work the distaff,
I know you are a man.''

The Urisk "could be gained over by kind attentions to perform the drudgery of the farm, and it was believed that many families in the Highlands had one of the order attached to it." The famous Coire nan uruisgean derives its name from the solemn stated meetings of all the Urisks in Scotland being held there.

The Urisk, like the Brownie of England, had great simplicity of character, and many tricks were played upon it in consequence. A farmer in Strathglass got it to undergo a painful operation that it might become fat and sleek like the farmer's own geldings. The weather at the time being frosty, it made a considerable outcry for some time after.

From its haunting lonely places, other appearances must often have been confounded with it. In Strathfillan (commonly called simply the Straths, Strathaibh), in the Highlands of Perthshire, not many years ago a number of boys saw what was popularly said to be an Urisk. In the hill, when the sun was setting, something like a human being was seen sitting on the top of a large boulder-stone, and growing bigger and bigger till they fled. There is no difficulty in connecting the appearance with the circumstance that some sheep disappeared that year unaccountably from the hill, and a quantity of grain from the barn of the farm.

In the Hebrides there is very little mention of the Urisk at all. In Tiree the only trace of it is in the name of a hollow, Slochd an Aoirisg, through which the public road passes near the south shore. The belief that it assisted the farmer was not common anywhere, and all over the Highlands the word ordinarily conveys no other idea than that which has been well-defined as " a being supposed to haunt lonely and sequestered places, as mountain rivers and waterfalls."

Superstitions of the Highlands & Islands of Scotland, Collected entirely from Oral Sources By John Gregorson Campbell, 1900

The Urisk of Sgurr-A-Chaorainn.
An Urisk once lived in a steep rock at the foot of Sgurr-a-Chaorainn in Lochaber. This Urisk was, it
appears, very troublesome to the herd of Blar-a-Chaorainn, when he happened to go the way of Sgurr. Not an evening he passed it but the Urisk put his head out of a hole in the face of the rock and bawled after him:'* Carl, son of carl, son of carl. There you have of carls three:—a carl are you, and a carl is your father, and your son will be a carl, and his son will be a carl, and you all will be carls, like it or not."
When this herd left Blar-a-Chaorainn, there came in his place another whom his acquaintances called
Donald Mor. Donald was but a short time on the farm, until he was as much annoyed by the Urisk as
the herd that had left. Not an evening did he return from the hill past the rock but the Urisk bawled after him:‘'Donald Mor, I do not like you."
This salutation  was far from being pleasing to honest Donald, but he kept his opinion to himself as long as he could. At length his patience was so completely worn out by the Urisk 's continual jeering that he could not contain himself any longer. One evening, when returning, cold and hungry, from the hill, and the Urisk bawling after him as usual: "Donald Mor, I do not like you," Donald turned on his heel in wrath, and bawled as loud as the Urisk himself: "That is but the return you owe me."
The Urisk ceased his jeering; and from that time to this his voice has not been heard by any other person.

The Urisk of Eas Buidhe.
In Glen Mallie, in Lochaber, there is an eerie ravine called Eas Buidhe. In this ravine it was said that the Urisks took refuge; and near it were ihe summer pasture bothies of some of the farmers in the Glen. One of the Urisks, "The Urisk of Eas Buidhe, Sitting in Glen Maillie", was very troublesome to one of the dairymaids staying in the bothies near the ravine. Not a day passed but he came to the bothy where she lived; and he spent the time sitting at the fire, asking questions, and obstructing her in her work. She grew tired of him, but she knew not how to rout him without turning the wrath of the other Urisks against her. At last her patience with him was so completely worn out that she resolved to get rid of him, happen what might. One day as he was crouching about the fire as usual, he asked, among his questions, what her name was. She replied that it was:"Myself and Myself."
“That is a curious name," said he.
"Never mind, that is what I am called."
A pot full of whey hung over the fire, and when she went to take it off, he was in her way, as usual. This so provoked her that she intentionally allowed a wave of the boiling whey to fall on his feet, and scald him. He sprang up quickly from his seat, and ran out, howling and crying that he was burnt. As soon as the other Urisks heard this, they ran up from the ravine to meet him, and asked who burnt him. He answered that it was “Myself and Myself.”
“Oh, if you have burnt yourself, it cannot be helped; but if anyone else had done it, we would
have burnt him and all that is in the bothies along with him."

Big Alastair and the Uruisg.
Big Alastair was as good and as keen a rod-fisher as there was in his native place. As soon as he would see the appearance of a good shower coming, he would instantly throw his rod over his shoulder, and he would hide away at a trotting pace to the river. On a warm summer evening, with a good drizzling rain falling accompanied with mist, he, as his custom was, betook himself to the river; and after getting his rod in order, he therewith cast out the tackle. As soon as the hook touched the water, the fish began to take better than he had ever seen them take before. He was hauling the trout in so thickly, one after another, that he had no time to wait to put them on either withy or string. He just threw them on the green grass on the bank of the river, with the intention of returning for them when the fishing was over. His attention was so much on his work that night came upon him without his observing it. He then gave a look behind him, and whom did he see, fishing at his side, but a great Uruisg, who was taking in trout for trout with him, and throwing them with his own catch of fish upon the grass. There was no help for it, and no use in saying a syllable. But he and his companion kept on at the fishing until the best part of the night was overpast. Then the Uruisg cried: "It is time to stop. Big Alastair, and divide the fish."
3.
''No! No!" said Big Alastair, “it is not at all time, while the fish are taking so well."
Without saying more the Uruisg returned sulkily to the fishing. A good while after that, he cried again: "Stop now. Big Alastair, and let us divide the fish."
“Have patience a little longer," said Alastair,” considering that I never before saw the fish in such a taking humour."
The Uruisg did as he was asked, but it was not willingly; for the day was approaching, and another fishing to accomplish before it would arrive. So, in a short while, he cried the third time to Alastair to stop. Alastair knew, from the tone of the monster's voice that there was no use whatever in asking a longer delay. Whereupon he turned towards him and said: "Whether wilt thou gather the fish, or divide them?"
The Uruisg answered: “ I shall gather them, and do thou divide them."
" I do not know how to divide them," said Alastair.
"Pooh! that is not difficult. A spratlum down, and a spratlum up; a spratlum there, and a spratlum here; and the last big spratlum for me."
This division pleased Big Alastair very indifferently, for he understood that he himself was the big spratlum which the Uruisg wished to have as his share of the fish before the day should come. But what was he to do to disappoint the nasty fellow? The day was approaching, and if he could keep the work unfinished until it came, he would be safe. He began to divide the fish, but to all appearance he was in no hurry to finish that task. When the fish would not slip out of his hands, he would make a mistake in the counting, or some other mishap would occur to delay him. The Uruisg was losing his patience, and no mischance would befall Alastair which did not inflame his wrath. He would shake his head and shoulders, stamp on the ground with his feet, and in a voice half angry, half plaintive, cry out: “Won't thou take care, big Alastair? Won't thou take care, Big Alastair?"
But Alastair would suffer his remonstrance to go in at one ear and out at the other. At length the red cock awoke, and relieved him from the strait he was in. He crowed on a knoll above the river, and straightway the Uruisg went out of sight. Alastair took with him the fish, and returned home. But from that day to the day of his death he did not go to fish trout on the river after nightfall.

Folk Tales and Fairy Lore, by Rev. James MacDougall, 1859


Ourisks were supposed to be a condition somewhat intermediate, between that of mortal man and spirits. They were generally inclined to mischief, but, by kind treatment, were often prevailed with to be very serviceable to the family which they haunted, and by which they were accordingly considered as an acquisition. Their grand rendezvous was in ben venew: Coirre nan Uriskin merits the notice of the traveler, besides for its magnificent scenery.

Sketches descriptive of picturesque scenery, on the southern confines of Perthshire: including the Trosachs, Lochard, &c. together with notices of natural history, by Graham, Patrick, 1806


Uraisg, a monster, half-human, half-goat, with abnormally long hair, long teeth, and long claws, frequenting glens, corries, reedy lakes, and sylvan streams; an unkempt, untidy man. 
2.
A glen in Killninver, Argyll, is called 'Gleann-uraisg,' 'Gleann na h-uraisg,' glen of 'uraisg,' glen of the 'uraisg.' Many stories are told of the 'uraisg' possessing this glen, the appearance, the action, and the speech of this supernatural creature being graphically described. The 'uraisg' is not unfriendly to the friendly beyond showing them scenes, and telling them of events above the world, upon the world, and below the world, that fill them with terror. Strong men avoid the glen of the 'uraisg' at night. In the Coolin Hills, Skye, there is a place called 'Coire nan uraisg,' corrie of the 'uraisgs,' and adjoining it another place called 'Bealach Coire nan uraisg,' the pass of the corrie of the 'uraisgs.'


The Carmina Gadelica, by Alexander Carmicheal, 1900


The urisks haunt parts of the Coolin Hills in Skye, like the glaistig. The urisks were, as satyrs, associated with the glaistig. Its partiality for a fis diet is mentioned, as its connection with streams, marshes and the sea.

Peailladh was a fuath (evil spirit) and in Lewis Peallaidh is applied to the devil. Our Peaillaidh (shaggy one) was reputed to have been been the chief of the urisks, some of whom were harmless and friendly to individuals, while others were hostile and dangerous as water demons.  There is a footprint on a  Glen Lyon rock (caslorg Pheallaidh) reputed to be that of Peallaidh and a cataract called eas Pheaillaidh. An urisk might also be called a fuath, although not all demons reffered to as fuath were necessarily urisks.


A form of Peallaidh or the urisk on the east coast of Scotland and in the Lowlands was shellycoat. He  When shellycoat appeared, he seemed to be decked with marine productions and in particular, with shells, whose clattering announced his approach. From this circumstance he derived his name. A shellycoat haunted the old house of Gorinberry situated on the river hermitage in Liddesdale.

has been referred to as a water spirit who has given his name to many a rock and stone upon the Scottish coast.

A Shellycoat was reputed to haunt a rock on the shore of Leith and according to local writers the boys were wont to run round the rock three times, repeating the couplet:

‘Shellycoat, shellycoat, gang awa hame,
I cry na’ yer mercy, I fear na’yer name’

The Demon was reputed to trash severely those who offended it. Uriks and glaistigs simirlarly dealt with those individuals who had incurred their displeasure.

Certain of the supernatural beings remembered as urisks were black. One of them was known in Perthshire as Triubh-dubh (black trews).

Scottish Folk-lore and Folk Life, by Donald A. Mackenzie, 1935





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