Olrig

Prior to 19th century agricultural improvements the parish was sub-divided into ten townlandss or 'fermlands'. Boundaries were mostly disregarded and lost during the 19th century but many townland names remain identifiable in farmstead names ending with Mains.

Myths and Legends

Various legends and folk tales are associated with the parish. Here are two.

Versions of these tales appear in James T Calder's History of Caithness 1887 (pages 55 to 61, as republished 1973 by Stansfield, Fortrose). The hillock and well of Sysa figure in both. According to Calder, the well dried up as a result of 19th century agricultural improvements. The hillock is still there, on the south side of Olrig Hill ().

The words of Dorrad, in the first tale, are requoted from The Raven Banner (page 19) by Ian Cassells, Thurso, circa 1995.

• Please see also the The Stone Lud

  Dorrad's vision at Sysa, 1014

The battle was fought on Good Friday and, in legend, on the same Good Friday, a Norse poet called Daraddus or Dorrad had a vision, an apparition of the Valkyries, twelve in all, on horseback at Sysa. They seemed to ride into the hillock.

Daraddus himself approached the hillock and found an opening in its side. Inside he saw the Valkyries were weaving a cloth, and singing as they sang. Daraddus recorded what he heard and saw:

Blood rains from cloudy web on the broad loom of slaughter. The web of man, grey as armour, is now woven. The Valkyries will cross it with a crimson weft
:The warp is made of human entrails. Human heads are used as weights. The heddle rods are blood-wet spears. The shafts are iron-bound, and arrows are the shuttles. With swords we shall weave this web of battle.

The Valkyries go weaving with drawn swords, Hild and Hjorthrimul, Sangrid and Svipul. Spears will shatter. Shields will splinter. Swords will gnaw like wolves through armour.

Let us now wind the web of war which the young King once waged. Let us advance and wade through the ranks, where friends of ours are exchanging blows.

Let us now wind the web of war and then follow the king to battle. Gunn and Gondul can see there the blood-splattered shields that guarded the King.

Let us now wind the web of war where the warrior’s banners are forging forward. Let his life not be taken. Only the Valkyries can choose the slain.

Lands will be ruled by new people who once inhabited outlying headlands. We pronounce a great King destined to die. Now an Earl is felled by spears.

The men of Ireland will suffer a grief that will never grow old in the minds of men. The web is now woven and the battlefield reddened. The news of disaster will spread through lands.

It is horrible now to look around, as blood-red cloud darkens the sky. The heavens are stained with the blood of men, as the Valkyries sing their song. We sang well victory songs for the young king. Hail to our singing! Let him who listens to our Valkyrie song learn it well and tell it to others. Let us ride our horses hard on bare backs, with swords unsheathed, away from here.

The piper of Windy Ha

Again at Sysa, one sunny tranquil day in the leafy month of June, a cowboy called Peter Water stopped to drink and linger at the well, while on his way home to Windy Ha. He rested and slept till near sunset, when he was woken by a touch on his shoulder. A young lady was beside him, dressed in green, her eyes blue and her hair in golden ringlets. Peter was bashful and felt himself blushing.

"I have come to make a man of you" the lady said. Peter mistook her meaning and demured. She laughed and continued with her offer: "I will put you in the way of rising in the world and making your fortune" she said, and she asked Peter to choose between a book and a pipe.

Both were magical. In the book Peter saw the status and fortunes of a popular preacher. In the pipe he saw those of a popular musician. He was attracted by both but, though he had never fingerd a pipe before, the pipe is what he chose. He found he could play the pipe immediately, and play it well. One condition was attatched to the lady's gift: that he swear by the well to return in moonlight on the same evening seven years hence. Peter promised that if alive he would do so.

Peter was soon a popular and properous musician, growing in fame and fortune throughout the next seven years. Then he was true to his word and returned to the well of Sysa. Peter has never been seen since, but still his pipe is sometimes heard in Olrig. (The skeptical attribute the sound however to the wind playing though the radio masts on top of the hill.)