“The rowans will be red in Lochaber"

Although we  live in an age of plastic, steel, concrete and a world of Twitter and mischievous Facebook,  I have hardly met anyone who does not know that it is very bad luck to cut down a rowan tree. The old Highlanders believed that good or bad luck is connected with various trees, none more so than the rowan. 

Its Gaelic name is caoran or fuinnseach coille, ‘the wood enchantress’ and was considered to offer the best protection. Consequently, it was planted close to houses and huts, even those far up mountain glens, still marking the spot of old shielings. Fishing boats had a piece of rowan fastened to the yard arm to ensure safe passage and a small twig was tied to a cow’s tail as a charm against witchcraft. 

Its fruit was supposed to bring about longevity and increased the proof of another kind of spirit. To guard against ghosts a piece of a rowan tree was shaped into a cross with red thread and inserted between the lining and the cloth of a garment and, according to an old saying, as long as it lasted, ‘neither ghost nor witch shall ever interfere with you.’ A similar arrangement was laid over the threshold of byres and attached to barn lintel -stones.
Many of these old customs have long since disappeared, but eating rowan berry jelly with venison is as popular today as it was centuries ago. 

The following is taken from an old family recipe.

“Gather the berries when almost ripe. Remove the stalks and wash and drain the berries. Put them in a preserving-pan with enough cold water to float them well. Simmer them for about 40 minutes, or until the water is red and the berries are quite soft. Strain off the juice, being careful not to press the fruit.

“Measure the juice and return it to the pan. Add sugar in the proportion of a pound to each pint of juice. Boil rapidly for half an hour or until a sample sets on a plate when cold. Skim well, pour into small jars, and quickly seal. 

“If you allow pound for pound of apple juice to rowan juice you will get a fine jelly. Allow a pound of sugar to each pint of apple juice. 

“Rowan jelly is also a fine accompaniment to grouse and saddle of mutton and venison. 

“To clarify sugar; to every pound take a quarter-pint of water and the half of the white of an egg beat up. Stir this till the sugar dissolves and when it boils add another quarter pint of cold water to each pound. Let it boil, edging the pan forward from the heat till all the scum comes to the surface. 

“Remove from the heat source and when it has settled remove the scum with a sugar skimmer. Put in a sieve over a dish. When full return the drained sugar into the pan and boil and skim the whole thing again.”

Once, in Paris, years after the failure of the 1745 Rising, Prince Charles Edward Stewart and clan chief Cluny Macpherson, whose lives had been broken on the same wheel of fortune,  met to talk over the Jacobite defeat at Culloden. 

They sat in silence for much of the time, the thoughts of both alike, straying to the country where they first met. Suddenly the Prince said in a low voice: “It is September, the rowans should be red in Lochaber.” Leaning heavily in his chair, staring vacantly into the distance he whispered: “Ah, the Highlands!” .