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Sláinte! The Scottish Connection

By Edythe Preet

May/June 1995

June 29, 1995 by Leave a Comment

The Causeway coast offers a breathtaking walk along steep cliffs and through verdant pastures backed by big skies. This section concluded at the Giants Causeway, the mythical path to Scotland built by Finn McCool.

Scattered along Northern Ireland’s rugged coast, forty thousand hexagonal columns trail from a stretch of cliffs to the sea. The unique rock formation is known worldwide as The Giant’s Causeway. It resulted millions of years ago when a volcanic eruption spewed molten basalt into the air. As seawater slowly cooled the red hot lava, it formed into vertical clusters of mostly hexagonal shaped pillars. Over eons, immense colonies of minute lichens colored the pillars shades of black, yellow and gray. Similar rock formations exist on the Scottish island of Staffa. 

That’s the scientific textbook explanation. A local seanchai(folklorist) will quickly set you straight with the real story. 

Long long ago, a certain infamous fellow named Finn Mac Cool lived along the coast with his wife Oonah. One day while walking along the beach, Finn stubbed his toe on a stone and tossed the offending bit of rock into the Irish sea where it became the Isle of Man. People were much larger then, and there was always much debate among these giants as to who was the strongest. 

One day Finn challenged his greatest rival, a Scottish giant named Benandonner, to a wrestling match. The Scotsman was much too large to travel by boat so Finn took massive slabs of stone and built a causeway for Benandonner to cross over the sea. On the day of the match, Oonah looked out the window of her house and saw that the approaching Scottish giant was much bigger than her dear husband. Quickly, she disguised Finn as a baby. When Benandonner saw the huge child, he was so terrified of meeting its father that he ran all the way back to Scotland, and his heavy footfalls collapsed the causeway in mid-ocean! 

Giants and rock formations are not the only issues that historically link Northern Ireland with Scotland which, by the way, on a clear day can be seen across the water. Robert the Bruce hid in a cave on Rathlin Island off the Antrim Coast after his defeat by the English at Perth. And it was no less than a tiny Rathlin spider resolutely spinning its web that gave the steadfast warrior inspiration to return to Scotland and win the historic Battle of Bannockburn. 

There’s also the matter of Uisce Beatha, “the water of life.” We know this heady liquid as whiskey, but water of life was a most appropriate name for it many hundreds of years ago. With no way to keep food from spoiling, it is certain that the natural antibacterial properties of whiskey saved many a diner from death by food poisoning. 

Both Ireland and Scotland are equally famous for their distilled alcohols made from fermented barley pulp, but they are as different in taste as they are in their spelling. Scotch whisky (especially that from lowlands breweries) has an earthy peaty taste as the water with which it is brewed originates in the marshy bogs. Irish whiskey on the other hand, has a clearsweet taste as it is brewed from water filtered into Ireland’s sparkling rivers through fieldstone strata of granite and limestone. 

Though no one really knows the origin of whiskey, authorities generally agree that distillation skills were introduced to Ireland during the sixth century by monks who had learned the art of extracting floral essences by a distillation process while traveling as missionaries in the Middle East. No doubt while experimenting with various local Irish herbs, a clever monk one day stumbled on the extraordinary sensory effects of distilled barley. It is quite possible that the secret of whiskey making was carried to Scotland by another man of the cloth, Saint Colmcille, who established one of the greatest early Christian monastic schools on the island of Iona from which Irish monks converted most of England and Scotland. 

One fact, however, is incontrovertible. The world’s oldest whiskey distillery, licensed by royal charter on April 20, 1608, is located inNorthern Ireland in the village of Bushmills, County Antrim. The site has actually been known for its distilling tradition since 1276 when it was recorded in the Annals of the Savages, that Sir Thomas Savage (lord of the lands that included the mill on the River Bush), “allowed to every soldierbefore he buckled with the enemy, a mighty draught of Uisce Beatha.” 

Like many another Northern town, Bushmills shares an even greater tie with Scotland. It dates from Ireland’s “plantation” period. On September 4,1607, rather than embroil the inhabitants of their holdings in yet another bloody war with English forces, Hugh O’Neill (Earl of Tyrone) and RoryO’Donnell (Earl of Tyrconnel) set sail for France with ninety-nine followers from Rathmullan, County Donegal. The event quickly became known as “TheFlight of the Earls.” It gave rise to one of the most extensive relocations of population in British history. 

The O’Neill and O’Donnell lands were immediately declared forfeit to the Crown and designated as the new counties of Armagh, Cavan, Londonderry, Donegal, Fermanagh and Tyrone. In 1609, a London committee stipulated that English and Scottish “undertakers” would be granted parcels of land which they had to “plant” with imported tenants. It was recommended that “planters” outnumber native Irish. A survey conducted in 1622 indicated that 3700English and Scottish families (about 13,000 people) had been planted in the six new counties. By 1700, approximately 170,000 planters had settled the region. Some 150,000 of them had come from lowland Scotland. 

Though my direct ties to Ireland have passed on, I continue to discover more about my roots. It was a matter of family pride that my grandmother was born in Fermanagh and raised in Donegal. But only now have I realized why my aunt, who lived for many years in Belfast, spoke with a slight Scots lilt. Why my father loved Robert Burns’s poetry as much as Padraic Colum’s fables.And why one of his favorite meals was Scotland’s famous Cock-a-Leekie soup. Perhaps it is a favorite in your home as well. Slainte!

Cock-a-leekie Soup

  • 1 chicken, cut in pieces
  • 1 beef marrow bone
  • 1 package Irish bacon, chopped
  • 12 leeks
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme 
  • 2 tablespoons dried parsley
  • salt and pepper
  • 1 cup pitted dried prunes
  • 1 cup heavy cream (optional)

Trim leeks of roots and all but 1″ of the green tops. Slit leeks lengthwise, wash well to remove dirt, and cut crosswise into thin slices. Set 1 cup of leek slices aside. Place the chicken pieces, marrow bone, Irish bacon, and remaining leek slices in a large soup pot. Cover with water. Add the bay leaf, thyme and parsley. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 4 hours. While simmering, add water occasionally to keep the meat and vegetables submerged. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Discard the marrow bone, remove the chicken pieces from the soup, separate the meat from the bones and chop it coarsely. Discard the bones, skin and gristle. Skim all fat from the surface of the broth, then add the chipped chicken, pitted prunes and reserved cup of leek slices. 

Haslett

  • 1 pound lamb liver, boiled and minced
  • 1/2 pound lamb stewing meat, braised and minced
  • 1/2 pound beef suet, chopped fine
  • 1 pound dry oatmeal, toasted
  • 2 large onions, chopped
  • 2 cups rich soup stock 
  • 1 teaspoon allspice 
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper 
  • salt to taste
  • watercress sprigs 

Mix all the ingredients, turn the mixture into a large greased bowl, and cover tightly with greased parchment paper. Set the bowl in a large pot and add water until it reaches 2/3 of the way up the sides of the bowl. Cover the pot and steam the haslett at a low boil for 4 hours. Add water as necessary to maintain the original level. Unmold onto a large plate, garnish with a wreath of watercress sprigs and serve. Accompany with soda bread, lots of Guinness, good Irish proper music and a few tall tales. Makes 6 to 8 servings. 

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published in the May/June 1995 issue of Irish America. ♦

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