There is considerably less concrete evidence to go on as far as Scottish deities are concerned, with a sad lack of native mythology that can be firmly dated to any antiquity (by and large). In some cases, we have names but little else to go on, whereas in other cases there is plenty of lore that shows evidence of deities in the Scottish landscape, but for the most part the stories themselves are quite late in form, and the gods are presented more as fairies or spirits than deities – gruagach’s, who haunt a place and are propitiated with milk to ensure their benevolence and the safeguarding of cattle.

Irish mythology has also been hugely influential and popular in terms of Scotland’s myth and legend, with heroes from the Fionn cycle popping up here there and everywhere in the Scottish landscape. The idea we get, then, is slightly muddled, with layers and layers of myths and lore piling up, but with very little in the way of older material to compare to and see what might be genuinely pre-Christian in origin; that is, gods might be found in the landscape of Scotland, but it’s difficult to tell if their stories have pre-Christian roots or are later additions. Part of the problem here is the lack of serious academic studies that try to address any of this.

Much of the surviving lore is concerned with the Cailleach, and in many cases it could be argued that perhaps her name is being used more as a title to refer to a forgotten local deity than a goddess in her own right (or perhaps, that she is being conflated with localised deities). The lore concerning the Cailleach is deeply ingrained in the landscape, and so on the one hand gives us lots of stories to go on, but on the other hand, it skews our view slightly in terms of seeing one deity in particular becoming dominant in the landscape when the name itself might be seen more as a title. Such is the way that the old deities have survived in the Scottish landscape, perhaps…

We can look to the usual sources to inform our view of the gods, though – surviving myths and lore, placenames, and historical sources like Ptolemy’s map of Scotland and Roman inscriptions (although these aren’t necessarily as helpful as we’d hope for them to be). As usual, starting from the earliest evidence and working our way along seems to be the sensible way to go. In this case, the starting point takes us to Ptolemy.

Head straight on past Hadrian’s Wall and turn right…

Behold! Ptolemy’s map of Britain and Ireland:

Ptolemy’s Map of the Britain and Ireland¹

You’ll probably notice something a little odd here, seeing as Scotland is skewed to a 90 degree angle, almost as if Britain is about to be decapitated. Clearly the map is incorrect, but this seems odd given that Ptolemy was an otherwise able cartographer; considering this fact, the reasons for this apparent mistake have long been debated, with all sorts of theories being suggested – for example, he had to rely on data taken from sea journeys, rather than mapping on land like most of the other places that were mapped at the same time, and so Ptolemy may have failed to take the differences in tides and currents into account, resulting in Scotland (and Denmark) becoming lopsided; or else, the skewing is a result of how the maps were drawn separately and then compiled (essentially, when putting the maps of the British Isles all together, the compiler put Scotland on at the wrong angle. And Denmark).²

Taking into account the fact that Ptolemy was otherwise relatively accurate given the tools and technology he had to hand at the time, such elementary mistakes seem to be unlikely explanations. The most recent, and now generally accepted argument is that the skewing is not the result of a simple mistake or accident, but more to do with Ptolemy’s deference to accepted Greek wisdom of the time: It was believed that people could not survive the latitudes above 63 degrees north, and so Ptolemy faced a problem when having to reconcile Scotland’s position so far north with the fact that this couldn’t possibly be the case, because everybody knows that people couldn’t survive the extreme conditions there otherwise. As it is, Ptolemy’s solution of turning most of Scotland on its side still pushed some of the landmass beyond 63 degrees, but not as far as 66 degrees north as the northern-most part of Scotland should be.³

Linguistically, while some of the names that Ptolemy lists are more than a little obscure and difficult to understand, many of them do appear to conform to what we’d expect of Celtic placenames – in some cases clearly containing deity names.⁴ Looking at the placenames on Ptolemy’s map, as we did with Ireland, does show signs of some consistency as we’d expect: river names, in particular, tend to retain old names that might date back to pre-Christian and even pre-Celtic times, and as Watson puts it: “It is not too much to say that the feeling of divinity pervades and colours the whole system of our ancient stream nomenclature.”⁵ Gildas, writing in the sixth century, supports this view of natural features being held as sacred across the whole of Britain:

“This island, stiff-necked and stubborn-minded, from the time of its being first inhabited, ungratefully rebels, sometimes against God, sometimes against her own citizens, and frequently, also, against foreign kings and their subjects. For what can there either be, or be committed, more disgraceful or more unrighteous in human affairs, than to refuse to show fear to God or affection to one’s own countrymen, and (without detriment to one’s faith) to refuse due honour to those of higher dignity, to cast off all regard to reason, human and divine, and, in contempt of heaven and earth, to be guided by one’s own sensual inventions? I shall, therefore, omit those ancient errors common to all the nations of the earth, in which, before Christ came in the flesh, all mankind were bound; nor shall I enumerate those diabolical idols of my country, which almost surpassed in number those of Egypt, and of which we still see some mouldering away within or without the deserted temples, with stiff and deformed features as was customary. Nor will I call out upon the mountains, fountains, or hills, or upon the rivers, which now are subservient to the use of men, but once were an abomination and destruction to them, and to which the blind people paid divine honour.”⁶

We can be cautiously confident that we can find some authentic deity names with Ptolemy, then, if not much else in terms of detail.

From the map, we see evidence of several rivers bearing names today that clearly derive from the same roots as the modern names we have for them today. The rivers marked Clote Aest (Aestuarium – estuary) and Devae Ostia, for example, clearly relate to those now known as the Clyde and Dee. The earliest written record we have for the Clyde is from Tacitus, which might be where Ptolemy got the name from as he compiled the map; Tacitus lists it as Clōta, while Adomnán (writing some centuries later, in the seventh century) gives the name as Clōithe.⁷ There are also references to the Britons of Alt Clut in the various Irish annals, referring to what is now known as Dumbarton Rock, a volcanic plug that sits on the shore of the Clyde. Watson proposes that the name refers to a goddess, *Clōta, whose name means “the washer, the strongly flowing one,” also noting that the nearby river Cart, which flows into it, is connected with the Irish word cartaim, ‘I cleanse.’⁸

Nicolaisen takes a more sceptical, even dismissive view, saying: “Clyde is much more likely to have been a primary river-name. We are not denying that there was Celtic river-worship, but it should not be assumed for rivers whose names permit a straightforward ‘profane’ explanation.”⁹ The comparative evidence – that many of these primary rivers throughout the Celtic world had goddesses associated with them (Sequana, associated with the Seine, Boann with the Boyne, and so on) – makes Nicolaisen’s argument more than a little weak, but his caveat remains a sensible one: we shouldn’t be too quick to assume anything.

The river Dēvā, situated in what is now Aberdeenshire (and another in Galloway in the south-west of Scotland), is known today as the Dee, and is etymologically related to the Gaulish word deivos, ‘goddess.’¹⁰ Here we can clearly see the divine roots of the river name, and some centuries later, Adamnán refers to a river known as the Nigra Dea, ‘the Black Goddess’ in his Life of Columba. The Divie (Gaelic: Duibhe), a tributary of Findhorn, might also refer to this ‘Black Goddess’, clearly referencing the quality of the waters.¹¹ Conversely, in Banffshire there is the river Aven of Glen Aven, from the Gaelic Athfhinn, ‘the very bright one.’ Here, Athfhinn is said to have been the wife of Fionn mac Cumhall, and she drowned in the waters of the Aven and gave her name to it. Before her death, the waters were referred to as Uisge Bàn, ‘fair water,’ so not too different from Athfhinn’s name. Notably, the origin tale is very in keeping with Gaelic tradition.¹²

Tribal names are also suggestive. Looking to comparative evidence, such as the Brigantes tribe in the north of England and possibly southern Scotland, or the Gaulish Sequani, who both take their names from deities, it seems reasonable to think that at least some of the names listed by Ptolemy may refer to a people whose name comes from their tutelary deity. The most suggestive name is that of the Epidii, whose name clearly comes from the root wood for horse – epos in Gaulish, each in Irish, and Eqvos in Old Celtic.¹³ Eochaid, ‘horse-man’¹⁴ is a common name for a king in early Ireland, and the Dagda is often also referred to as Eochaid Ollathir. Epona is a well-known Gaulish goddess whose name and iconography also associate her with horses. It is possible that here too, the Epidii are named after a horse deity (though it is difficult to tell whether or not the deity is male or female). Looking to other sources, we see that “Middle Irish pedigrees of the kings of the Scots include an Eochaid Riada (known in some versions as Caipre Rígfota) who, if we assign an average number of years to generations, would have ruled in the 2nd century AD…”¹⁵ Likewise, the tale Aided Chonrói (‘The Death of Cú Roi’) makes mention of an Echde, who lived in Aird Echdi I Cinn Tíre. Meyer is of the opinion that this suggests that the area (the Mull of Kintyre, which was marked as Epidii territory by Ptolemy) was known as ‘Echde’s Cape,’¹⁶ to the Irish neighbours at least, and this could easily be seen as referring to a deity, or a historical figure.

Later evidence shows a landscape that is thoroughly integrated into a Gaelic worldview; Brythonic and Pictish survivals in placenames can be seen across Scotland, but mythologically, it is the Gaelic evidence that gives us the richest amount of material to look at. We might think that since the western seaboard was occupied by the Gaelic-speaking Dal Riatans, settling from Ireland in around the fourth or fifth century CE (but possibly as early as the second), that they brought their gods with them – such as the Dagda, Macha, the Morrígan, Áed, Lug, Balor, Neit, Nemain, Dáire and Nuadu as suggested by the deities found in the province of the Ulaid, to name but a few. The best known figure who leaves her mark in the landscape, however, and who bears clear marks of a tutelary/sovereignty deity, is the Cailleach, or Cailleach Bheur. There are other figures – often presented as hags, spirits, gruagachs or giantesses that seem to take on a similar role in other places that don’t necessarily have recognisable names. One example that does, however, is NicNiven, whose name clearly relates to the Irish goddess Nemain, or Badb; here in this example, NicNiven is harder to pin down to specific geographical locations, but tradition abounds nonetheless.¹⁷

Sometimes, there are traditions that appear to be pagan in nature – the offerings to Shony, for example, or the customs associated with Loch Maree – that we are less certainly able to pin down to a specific deity. It appears that Shony may be linked with Manannán, but the customs associated with Loch Maree are so intimately associated with the saint, Maelrubha, that it is hard to say if the saint replaced a deity whose name is now lost. Certainly in Ireland Patrick often replaced Lugh in the landscape, as Maire MacNeill has pointed out,¹⁸ and Mac Cana notes other examples as well,¹⁹ so such things are not unheard of.

It is therefore often difficult to say unequivocally whether or not many of these figures are gods or goddesses, half-forgotten and euhemerised, or else perhaps relatively modern legendary constructs invented to explain and entertain with tales of how certain features in the landscape, or customs, came to be in terms that were popular at the time (the popularity of Ossian in the eighteenth century, for example, may have spurred on the formation or evolution many tales, for example), but many of the stories bear convincing pre-Christian motifs. Somehow, in some way, the gods are kept alive in the landscape.

As with Ireland, the evidence tends to favour female deities over male deities as far as their association with the landscape goes so it is important to remember that the evidence may be skewed. Much of the lore gives the gods a fearsome reputation, and many are associated heavily with the weather and forces of nature, as much as the land.²⁰ In Cromarty, for example, Gentle Annie exerts her fury as the seasons change from Winter to Spring at the beginning of April, blowing gales and bringing storms, and keeping the fishermen from going out to sea.²¹ Muileartach, meanwhile, is associated with the sea in the north-west, and is described much like the Cailleach:

“There were two slender spears of battle,
Upon the other side of the carlin;
Her face was blue-black of the lustre of coal,
And her bone tufted tooth was like rusted bone.

In her head was one deep pool-like eye,
Swifter than a star in a winter sky;
Upon her head gnarled brushwood,
Like the clawed old wood of the aspen root.”²²

It is at this point that another map, and accompanying table, should come in handy. As with the table for Gods of (the Irish) Landscape and Lore, the table is listed in alphabetical order of deity names (or possible/suspected deity):

Map of Mainland Scotland (adapted from Wikimedia under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike Licence)

A | B | C | D | E | G | M | T

Placename	God(s)	Sources/Nature of Association
A
Glen Aven (and River Aven), Banffshire	Athfhinn	‘The very bright one.’ Said to be the wife of the legendary hero Fionn, she is said to have died in the river and gave her name to it.23 The legend is a typical Gaelic-style origin legend for the name of the river, but Athfhinn may have been the tutelary deity of the area at one time, or the legendary figure may have been conflated with the original goddess there.
B
River Forth	Boderia	The Forth is marked as Boderia on Ptolemy’s map, and if we assume that other river names are indicators of the deity of those rivers, Boderia appears to relate to the original deity of the Forth. Watson gives the meaning of Boderia as ‘The Deaf One’, or ‘The Noiseless One,’ and while the name of the river itself has changed, the root word for Boderia is still present in some placenames in the area, such as Aberbothry in Perthshire.24
Birrens	Brigantia	A dedication to Brigantia at the Roman fort of Birrens has led to the suggestion that the Brigantes tribe extended into the lower Annan valley of the Scottish Borders at one time. The inscription itself is not conclusive, however, and could simply indicate that the person who left the inscription, an architect, may have come from Brigantes territory and made the dedication to his own tutelary deity.25
C
Glen Lyon	Cailleach	In a remote part of Glen Lyon is Tigh na Cailliche, a small dry-stone house or shrine which is carefully thatched with rushes. Inside the shrine are three stones, large, smooth, and crudely shaped into figures. The largest stone is called the Cailleach (‘Old Woman, Hag’), while the next largest is known as the Bodach (‘Old Man’), and the third and smallest stone is known as the Nighean (‘Daughter’). Legend has it that a couple of unnatural size were seen making their way through the glen one snowy and stormy day. They went asking for shelter, which was freely given by the people of the glen, and the couple were so pleased with the welcome they’d been given that they decided to stay. The people of the glen built them a house, and in due course the woman had a daughter. While the family stayed in the glen the weather was always in the favour of the people, and livestock and herds flourished, and crops never failed. There came a time when the supernatural family decided it was time to leave, however, and they made a promise to the people that so long as they were remembered in the glen, the winters would be mild and the summers bright and warm. As long as the people of the glen tended the little shrine and kept it in good order, putting the stones out in the summer at Bealltainn, and safely tucking them away in their freshly thatched house at Samhainn, there would be peace and plenty in the glen. The late shepherd of the glen, Bob Bissett, faithfully tended to the rite every year for as long as he worked there. Upon his death, it was reported by Anne Ross that Bissett’s successor had vowed to do the same.26
Island of Shuna, Loch Linnhe	Cailleach Bheur	In the rocks on the western side of the island there is ‘Cailleach Bheur’s staircase.’27
Strath of Appin	Cailleach Bheur	“There are three hills above the Strath of Appin whence “rhymes were shouted” in connection with Latha na Caillich, in commemoration of her defeat.”28 Frustratingly Stewart doesn’t expand on this, but elsewhere she does mention a rhyme the Cailleach is said to exclaim as her defeat becomes apparent: Dh’fhàg e shios mi, dh’fhàg e shuas mi; Dh’fhàg e eadar mo dhà chluais mi; Dh’fhàg e thall mi, dh’fhàg e bhos mi; Dh’fhàg e eadar mo dhà chois mi! Shootings her and sprouting there, It eludes me everywhere; Overhead and underfoot Bud and blade blossom shoot.29
Lochan na Cailliche, Moray	Cailleach Bheur	‘The Cailleach’s small loch.’30
Loch Etive	Cailleach Bheur	The rocks at the Falls of Connel are known as Cailleach Bheur’s Clacharan, or Stepping Stones. It is here her goats crossed the waters of Loch Etive.31 At Ben Duirinish there is a place known as Cruidhean, ‘Horse Hoofs’, which are said to have been made when the Cailleach leapt from the mountain over to Ben Cruachan (another place she is heavily associated with) as she tried to escape her enemies.32 It is at the Pass of Brander, at the head of Loch Etive, that the Cailleach is said to have turned to stone. The stone itself is known as Creag-na-Caillich.33
Benderloch (see Appin)	Cailleach Bheur	Some strange features in the landscape – deep hollows with a flat bottom at Acha-nan-ba(‘Cowfield’) – are locally known as the Cheesevats.34
Cailleach Point, Mull	Cailleach Bheur	At the stormiest point on Mull there is a cave known as Buaile nan drògh, said to be the milking-fold of the Cailleach’s sheep and goats. She sits on the rocks nearby, gazing out to sea, and when she sneezes it can be heard on Coll.35 At another point in Mull there is Carn-na-Caillich. Here, it is said that the Cailleach was collecting stones in her creel to make a bridge between Mull and the mainland. As she walked from the north of Morvern down to the Sound, the creel-rope snapped and the stones all dropped to the ground. The Cailleach left them there, and so they were named after her.36
Tiree	Cailleach Bheur	The ruins of her palace are said to be found on Tiree.37
Corryvreckan	Cailleach Bheur	The infamous whirlpool in the straits between Scarba and Jura, the Coirebhreacain – ‘Cauldron of Plaids’, is said to be the tub in which the Cailleach washes her blankets.38
Loch Awe and Loch Eck	Cailleach Bheur	The Cailleach is said to have created the lochs by accident.39
Ben Vaichard, Ross-shire	Cailleach Bheur	The Cailleach is said to have sat down for a rest one day, accidentally dropping her creel. As it fell, it caused the formation of Ben Vaichard.40
Forest of Mar, Aberdeenshire	Cailleach Bheur	The ruins of her palace are said to be found here.41
Schiehallion, Perthshire (marked as Glen Lyon, in roughly the same area)	Cailleach Bheur	On one side of the mountain there is Sgrìob na Caillich, ‘The Old Wife’s Furrow’, which is said to have created by her ploughing, which resulted in the unearthing of a mass of loose stones.42
Craigmaddy Moor, nr Milngavie	Cailleach Bheur	The standing stones here are called ‘The Auld Wife’s Lifts.’43
River Orrin, Ross	Cailleach na h-abhann	‘The river hag’, who is said to haunt the fords of the river Orrin in Ross. It is said a meeting with her is dreaded, since she drowns the unwary.44
Beinn na Caillich, Skye	Cailleach Bheur	Here the Cailleach is said to throw stones towards a hag who is said to live in Raasay.45
River Clyde	*Clota	*Clota is the suggested reconstruction of the river deity for the Clyde, thought to meaning ‘The Strongly Flowing One’.46
Glen Cuaich, Inverness-shire	Cuachag	A ‘river sprite’ said to haunt the glen.47
D
River Dee, Dumfries and Galloway/Aberdeenshire	*Deva	‘Goddess’. The name is thought to refer to the deity of the rivers.48
Divie, Findhorn	Duibhe	May mean ‘the black goddess’ and is possibly related to the mention of a ‘Nigra Dea’ in Adomnán’s seventh century Life of Columba.49
E
Loch Etive	Éiteag	‘The little foul/horrid one.’ Another tutelary ‘sprite’, who Watson comments: “…a man of my acquaintance declared that he knew a man who had met her in Glen Salach – after a funeral.”50 The meaning of her name probably relates to the stormy and unpredictable weather that makes the sea-cataract at the entrance of the loch frequently dangerous. ‘Salach’ means ‘foul’ and is therefore almost a synonym of Éiteag’s own name, reinforcing her nature and the nature of the area.51
G
Benbecula	Gamhnach	A stream on Benbecula is known as a’Ghamhnach, ‘the farrow cow.’ It was customary to throw a wisp of grass into the water as it was crossed, with the words, fodar do’n Ghamhnaich – “Fodder for the Gamhnach.”52 At the least, this is suggestive of a belief in a local gruagach.
M
Lewis	Manannán mac Lir	Ronald Black has suggested that the offerings to Shony, made at Hallowtide, are in fact linked with Manannán mac Lir.53 Evans-Wentz comments that: “Until modern times in Iona similar libations were poured to a god corresponding to Neptune.”54
T
River Tay	Tava/Tatha	“As a river name it was doubtless primarily the name of a goddess, ‘the Silent One.’”55

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References

1 Listed as a public domain image, see the Wikipedia page for more information on copyright and creative commons licensing.
2 See Am Baile.
3 Moffat, Before Scotland: The Story of Scotland Before History, 2005, p209-210.
4 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p428.
5 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p427.
6 See: Gildas.
7 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p44.
8 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p44.
9 Nicolaisen, Scottish Place-names, 1976.
10 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p49.
11 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p438.
12 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p451-452.
13 Koch, Encyclopedia of Celtic Culture, 2006, p1593.
14 See Martin, The Names of the Dagda. (link to pdf)
15 Koch, Encyclopedia of Celtic Culture, 2006, p556.
16 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p24.
17 ‘The most interesting name of all, used to specifically denote the queen of the fairies, is NicNiven or Neven, which appears to derive from Neamhain, one of the Gaelic and Irish war furies better known as Badb. The matter is complex since Neamhain and Badb may represent different aspects of the same persona, but badhbin some Irish dialects is the word for the supernatural death messenger more familiarly known in Ireland and Scotland as the banshee, bean-sithe literally ‘fairy-woman’ in Gaelic. Badhb also means a hoodie-crow and carries the sense of ‘deadly’ or ‘ill-fated’; it can also translate as ‘witch’, which is apposite since Scotland NicNiven was also queen of the witches. This intriguing name therefore, originated in the Gàidhealtachd whence it was imported into the Lowlands and even found its way to Shetland. W. B. Yeats was therefore incorrect when he stated that ‘the gentle fairy presences’ which haunted the imagination of his countrymen became ‘formidable and evil as soon as they were transferred to Scottish soil’, since this truly terrifying death messenger seems to be shared by both Ireland and Scotland while her associations give some indication of how the Scots regarded the fairy queen.’ Lizanne Henderson, Scottish Fairy Belief, p18.
18 MacNeill, The Festival of Lughnasa, 1962, p409-410.
19 Mac Cana, Placenames and Mythology in Irish Tradition: Places, Pilgrimages and Things, in Proceedings of the First North American Congress of Celtic Studies 1986, 1988, p338.
20 MacKenzie, ‘A Highland Goddess,’ The Celtic Review Vol VII, 1912, p336.
21 MacKenzie, ‘A Highland Goddess,’ The Celtic Review Vol VII, 1912, p343.
22 Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands Vol III, 1890, p137.
23 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p451-452.
24 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p435.
25 Mann and Breeze, ‘Ptolemy, Tacitus and the tribes of north Britain,’ in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquities of Scotland, Vol 117, 1987.
26 Ross, Folklore of the Scottish Highlands, 2000, p113-114.
27 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7.
28 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7.
29 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p5-6. See: Cailleach excerpts on Tairis-CR.
30 MacKenzie, Scottish Folk-Lore and Folk Life, 1935, p146.
31 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7.
32 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7.
33 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7-8.
34 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p7.
35 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
36 Watson, Highland Mythology, The Celtic Review Vol V, 1908, p61.
37 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
38 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
39 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p9.
40 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
41 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
42 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
43 Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll, 1925, p8.
44 MacKenzie, Scottish Folk-Lore and Folk Life, 1935, p159; Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p427.
45 MacKenzie, ‘A Highland Goddess,’ The Celtic Review Vol VII, 1912, p344.
46 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p44.
47 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p427.
48 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p426.
49 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p438.
50 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p427.
51 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p46.
52 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p427.
53 See Offerings: Shony.
54 Evans-Wentz, The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries, 1911, p93.
55 Watson, The Celtic Place-names of Scotland, 2005 (1926), p50-51.