ON THE FAIRIES OF POPULAR SUPERSTITION.
“Of airy elves, by moon-light shadows
seen,
The silver token, and the circled green.—POPE.
In a work, avowedly dedicated to the
preservation of the poetry and tradition of the “olden
time,” it would be unpardonable to omit this
opportunity of making some observations upon so interesting
an article of the popular creed, as that concerning
the Elves, or Fairies. The general idea of spirits,
of a limited power, and subordinate nature, dwelling
among the woods and mountains, is, perhaps common to
all nations. But the intermixture of tribes,
of languages, and religion, which has occurred in
Europe, renders it difficult to trace the origin of
the names which have been bestowed upon such spirits,
and the primary ideas which were entertained concerning
their manners and habits.
The word elf, which seems to
have been the original name of the beings, afterwards
denominated fairies, is of Gothic origin, and probably
signified, simply, a spirit of a lower order.
Thus, the Saxons had not only dun-elfen, berg-elfen,
and munt-elfen, spirits of the downs, hills,
and mountains; but also feld-elfen, wudu-elfen,
sae-elfen, and water-elfen; spirits of
the fields, of the woods, of the sea, and of the waters.
In low German, the same latitude of expression occurs;
for night hags are termed aluinnen, and aluen,
which is sometimes Latinized eluoe. But
the prototype of the English elf, is to be sought
chiefly in the berg-elfen, or duergar,
of the Scandinavians. From the most early of
the Icelandic Sagas, as well as from the Edda itself,
we learn the belief of the northern nations in a race
of dwarfish spirits, inhabiting the rocky mountains,
and approaching, in some respects, to the human nature.
Their attributes, amongst which we recognize the features
of the modern Fairy, were, supernatural wisdom and
prescience, and skill in the mechanical arts, especially
in the fabrication of arms. They are farther described,
as capricious, vindictive, and easily irritated.
The story of the elfin sword, Tyrfing, may
be the most pleasing illustration of this position.
Suafurlami, a Scandinavian monarch, returning from
hunting, bewildered himself among the mountains.
About sun-set, he beheld a large rock, and two dwarfs,
sitting before the mouth of a cavern. The king
drew his sword, and intercepted their retreat, by springing
betwixt them and their recess, and imposed upon them
the following condition of safety:—that
they should make for him a faulchion, with a baldric
and scabbard of pure gold, and a blade, which should
divide stones and iron as a garment, and which should
render the wielder ever victorious in battle.
The elves complied with the requisition, and Suafurlami
pursued his way home. Returning at the time appointed,
the dwarfs delivered to him the famous sword Tyrfing;
then, standing in the entrance of their cavern, spoke
thus: “This sword, O king, shall “destroy
a man every time it is brandished; but it shall “perform
three atrocious deeds, and it shall be thy bane.”
The king rushed forward with the charmed sword, and
buried both its edges in the rock; but the dwarfs escaped
into their recesses.[A] This enchanted sword emitted
rays like the sun, dazzling all against whom it was
brandished; it divided steel like water, and was never
unsheathed without slaying a man—Hervarar
Saga, p. 9. Similar to this was the enchanted
sword, Skoffhung, which was taken by a pirate
out of the tomb of a Norwegian monarch. Many such
tales are narrated in the Sagas; but the most distinct
account of the -duergar, or elves, and their attributes,
is to be found in a preface of Torfaeus to the history
of Hrolf Kraka, who cites a dissertation by Einar
Gudmund, a learned native of Iceland. “I
am firmly of opinion,” says the Icelander, “that
these beings are creatures of God, consisting, like
human beings, of a body and rational soul; that they
are of different sexes, and capable of producing children,
and subject to all human affections, as sleeping and
waking, laughing and crying, poverty and wealth; and
that they possess cattle, and other effects, and are
obnoxious to death, like other mortals.”
He proceeds to state, that the females of this race
are capable of procreating with mankind; and gives
an account of one who bore a child to an inhabitant
of Iceland, for whom she claimed the privilege of
baptism; depositing the infant, for that purpose,
at the gate of the church-yard, together with a goblet
of gold, as an offering.—Historia Hrolfi
Krakae, a TORFAEO.
[Footnote A: Perhaps in this,
and similar tales, we may recognize something of real
history. That the Fins, or ancient natives of
Scandinavia, were driven into the mountains, by the
invasion of Odin and his Asiatics, is sufficiently
probable; and there is reason to believe, that the
aboriginal inhabitants understood, better than the
intruders, how to manufacture the produce of their
own mines. It is therefore possible, that, in
process of time, the oppressed Fins may have been
transformed into the supernatural duergar.
A similar transformation has taken place among the
vulgar in Scotland, regarding the Picts, or Pechs,
to whom they ascribe various supernatural attributes.]
Similar to the traditions of the Icelanders,
are those current among the Laplanders of Finland,
concerning a subterranean people, gifted with’
supernatural qualities, and inhabiting the recesses
of the earth. Resembling men in their general
appearance, the manner of their existence, and their
habits of life, they far excel the miserable Laplanders
in perfection of nature, felicity of situation, and
skill in mechanical arts. From all these advantages,
however, after the partial conversion of the Laplanders,
the subterranean people have derived no farther credit,
than to be confounded with the devils and magicians
of the dark ages of Christianity; a degradation which,
as will shortly be demonstrated, has been also suffered
by the harmless Fairies of Albion, and indeed by the
whole host of deities of learned Greece and mighty
Rome. The ancient opinions are yet so firmly rooted,
that the Laps of Finland, at this day, boast of an
intercourse with these beings, in banquets, dances,
and magical ceremonies, and even in the more intimate
commerce of gallantry. They talk, with triumph,
of the feasts which they have shared in the elfin
caverns, where wine and tobacco, the productions of
the Fairy region, went round in abundance, and whence
the mortal guest, after receiving the kindest treatment
and the most salutary counsel, has been conducted
to his tent by an escort of his supernatural entertainers.—Jessens,
de Lapponibus.
The superstitions of the islands of
Feroe, concerning their Froddenskemen, or under-ground
people, are derived from the duergar of Scandinavia.
These beings are supposed to inhabit the interior
recesses of mountains, which they enter by invisible
passages. Like the Fairies, they are supposed
to steal human beings. “It happened,”
says Debes, p. 354, “a good while since, when
the burghers of Bergen had the commerce of Feroe,
that there was a man in Servaade, called Jonas Soideman,
who was kept by spirits in a mountain, during the space
of seven years, and at length came out; but lived
afterwards in great distress and fear, lest they should
again take him away; wherefore people were obliged
to watch him in the night.” The same author
mentions another young man, who had been carried away,
and, after his return, was removed a second time upon
the eve of his marriage. He returned in a short
time, and narrated, that the spirit that had carried
him away, was in the shape of a most beautiful woman,
who pressed him to forsake his bride, and remain with
her; urging her own superior beauty, and splendid
appearance. He added, that he saw the men who
were employed to search for him, and heard them call;
but that they could not see him, nor could he answer
them, till, upon his determined refusal to listen to
the spirit’s persuasions, the spell ceased to
operate. The kidney-shaped West Indian bean,
which is sometimes driven upon the shore of the Feroes,
is termed, by the natives “the Fairie’s
kidney.”
In these traditions of the Gothic
and Finnish tribes, we may recognize, with certainty,
the rudiments of elfin superstition; but we must look
to various other causes for the modifications which
it has undergone. These are to be sought, 1st,
in the traditions of the east; 2d, in the wreck and
confusion of the Gothic mythology; 3d, in the tales
of chivalry; 4th, in the fables of classical antiquity;
5th, in the influence of the Christian religion; 6th,
and finally, in the creative imagination of the sixteenth
century. It may be proper to notice the effect
of these various causes, before stating the popular
belief of our own time, regarding the Fairies.
I. To the traditions of the east,
the Fairies of Britain owe, I think, little more than
the appellation, by which they have been distinguished
since the days of the crusade. The term “Fairy,”
occurs not only in Chaucer, and in yet older English
authors, but also, and more frequently, in the romance
language; from which they seem to have adopted it.
Ducange cites the following passage from Gul.
Guiart, in Historia Francica, MS.
Plusiers parlent de Guenart,
Du Lou, de L’Asne, de Renart,
De Faëries et de Songes,
De phantosmes et de mensonges.
The Lay le Frain, enumerating
the subjects of the Breton Lays, informs us expressly,
Many ther beth faëry.
By some etymologists of that learned
class, who not only know whence words come, but also
whither they are going, the term Fairy, or
Faërie, is derived from Faë, which is
again derived from Nympha. It is more
probable the term is of oriental origin, and is derived
from the Persic, through the medium of the Arabic.
In Persic, the term Peri expresses a species
of imaginary being, which resembles the Fairy in some
of its qualities, and is one of the fairest creatures
of romantic fancy. This superstition must have
been known to the Arabs, among whom the Persian tales,
or romances, even as early as the time of Mahomet,
were so popular, that it required the most terrible
denunciations of that legislator to proscribe them.
Now, in the enunciation of the Arabs, the term Peri
would sound Fairy, the letter p not occurring
in the alphabet of that nation; and, as the chief
intercourse of the early crusaders was with the Arabs,
or Saracens, it is probable they would adopt the term
according to their pronounciation. Neither will
it be considered as an objection to this opinion,
that in Hesychius, the Ionian term Phereas,
or Pheres, denotes the satyrs of classical
antiquity, if the number of words of oriental origin
in that lexicographer be recollected. Of the
Persian Peris, Ouseley, in his Persian Miscellanies,
has described some characteristic traits, with all
the luxuriance of a fancy, impregnated with the oriental
association of ideas. However vaguely their nature
and appearance is described, they are uniformly represented
as gentle, amiable females, to whose character beneficence
and beauty are essential. None of them are mischievous
or malignant; none of them are deformed or diminutive,
like the Gothic fairy. Though they correspond
in beauty with our ideas of angels, their employments
are dissimilar; and, as they have no place in heaven,
their abode is different. Neither do they resemble
those intelligences, whom, on account of their wisdom,
the Platonists denominated Daemons; nor do they correspond
either to the guardian Genii of the Romans, or the
celestial virgins of paradise, whom the Arabs denominate
Houri. But the Peris hover in the balmy clouds,
live in the colours of the rainbow, and, as the exquisite
purity of their nature rejects all nourishment grosser
than the odours of flowers, they subsist by inhaling
the fragrance of the jessamine and rose. Though
their existence is not commensurate with the bounds
of human life, they are not exempted from the common
fate of mortals.—With the Peris, in Persian
mythology, are contrasted the Dives, a race of beings,
who differ from them in sex, appearance, and disposition.
These are represented as of the male sex, cruel, wicked,
and of the most hideous aspect; or, as they are described
by Mr Finch, “with ugly shapes, long horns, staring
eyes, shaggy hair, great fangs, ugly paws, long tails,
with such horrible difformity and deformity, that
I wonder the poor women are not frightened therewith.”
Though they live very long, their lives are limited,
and they are obnoxious to the blows of a human foe.
From the malignancy of their nature, they not only
wage war with mankind, but persecute the Peris with
unremitting ferocity. Such are the brilliant and
fanciful colours in which the imaginations of the
Persian poets have depicted the charming race of the
Peris; and, if we consider the romantic gallantry
of the knights of chivalry, and of the crusaders, it
will not appear improbable, that their charms might
occasionally fascinate the fervid imagination of an
amorous troubadour. But, further; the intercourse
of France and Italy with the Moors of Spain, and the
prevalence of the Arabic, as the language of science
in the dark ages, facilitated the introduction of
their mythology amongst the nations of the west.
Hence, the romances of France, of Spain, and of Italy,
unite in describing the Fairy as an inferior spirit,
in a beautiful female form, possessing many of the
amiable qualities of the eastern Peri. Nay, it
seems sufficiently clear, that the romancers borrowed
from the Arabs, not merely the general idea concerning
those spirits, but even the names of individuals amongst
them. The Peri, Mergian Banou (see Herbelot,
ap. Peri), celebrated in the ancient Persian
poetry, figures in the European romances, under the
various names of Mourgue La Faye, sister to
King Arthur; Urgande La Deconnue, protectress
of Amadis de Gaul; and the Fata Morgana
of Boiardo and Ariosto. The description of these
nymphs, by the troubadours and minstrels, is in no
respect inferior to those of the Peris. In the
tale of Sir Launfal, in Way’s Fabliaux,
as well as in that of Sir Gruelan, in the same
interesting collection, the reader will find the fairy
of Normandy, or Bretagne, adorned with all the splendour
of eastern description. The fairy Melusina,
also, who married Guy de Lusignan, count of Poictou,
under condition that he should never attempt to intrude
upon her privacy, was of this latter class. She
bore the count many children, and erected for him a
magnificent castle by her magical art. Their harmony
was uninterrupted, until the prying husband broke
the conditions of their union, by concealing himself,
to behold his wife make use of her enchanted bath.
Hardly had Melusina discovered the indiscreet
intruder, than, transforming herself into a dragon,
she departed with a loud yell of lamentation, and
was never again visible to mortal eyes; although, even
in the days of Brantome, she was supposed to be the
protectress of her descendants, and was heard wailing,
as she sailed upon the blast round the turrets of
the castle of Lusiguan, the night before it was demolished.
For the full story, the reader may consult the Bibliotheque
des Romans.[A]—Gervase of Tilbury (pp.
895, and 989), assures us, that, in his days, the
lovers of the Fadae, or Fairies, were numerous; and
describes the rules of their intercourse with as much
accuracy, as if he had himself been engaged in such
an affair. Sir David Lindsay also informs us,
that a leopard is the proper armorial bearing of those
who spring from such intercourse, because that beast
is generated by adultery of the pard and lioness.
He adds, that Merlin, the prophet, was the first who
adopted this cognizance, because he was “borne
of faarie in adultre, and right sua the first duk
of Guyenne, was borne of a fee; and, therefoir,
the armes of Guyenne are a leopard.”—MS.
on Heraldry, Advocates’ Library, w. 4. 13.
While, however, the Fairy of warmer climes was thus
held up as an object of desire and of affection, those
of Britain, and more especially those of Scotland,
were far from being so fortunate; but, retaining the
unamiable qualities, and diminutive size of the Gothic
elves, they only exchanged that term for the more
popular appellation of Fairies.
[Footnote A: Upon this, or some
similar tradition, was founded the notion, which the
inveteracy of national prejudice, so easily diffused
in Scotland, that the ancestor of the English monarchs,
Geoffrey Plantagenet, had actually married a daemon.
Bowmaker, in order to explain the cruelty and ambition
of Edward I., dedicates a chapter to shew “how
the kings of England are descended from the devil,
by the mother’s side.”—Fordun,
Chron. lib. 9, cap. 6. The lord of a certain
castle, called Espervel, was unfortunate enough to
have a wife of the same class. Having observed,
for several years, that she always left the chapel
before the mass was concluded, the baron, in a fit
of obstinacy or curiosity, ordered his guard to detain
her by force; of which the consequence was, that,
unable to support the elevation of the host, she retreated
through the air, carrying with her one side of the
chapel, and several of the congregation.]
II. Indeed, so singularly unlucky
were the British Fairies that, as has already been
hinted, amid the wreck of the Gothic mythology, consequent
upon the introduction of Christianity, they seem to
have preserved, with difficulty, their own distinct
characteristics, while, at the same time, they engrossed
the mischievous attributes of several other classes
of subordinate spirits, acknowledged by the nations
of the north. The abstraction of children, for
example, the well known practice of the modern Fairy,
seems, by the ancient Gothic nations, to have rather
been ascribed to a species of night-mare, or hag,
than to the berg-elfen, or duergar.
In the ancient legend of St Margaret, of which
there is a Saxo-Norman copy, in Hickes’ Thesaurus
Linguar. Septen. and one, more modern, in
the Auchinleck MSS., that lady encounters a fiend,
whose profession it was, among other malicious tricks,
to injure new-born children and their mothers; a practice
afterwards imputed to the Fairies. Gervase of
Tilbury, in the Otia Imperialia, mentions certain
hags, or Lamiae, who entered into houses in
the night-time, to oppress the inhabitants, while
asleep, injure their persons and property, and carry
off their children. He likewise mentions the Dracae,
a sort of water spirits, who inveigle women and children
into the recesses which they inhabit, beneath lakes
and rivers, by floating past them, on the surface
of the water, in the shape of gold rings, or cups.
The women, thus seized, are employed as nurses, and,
after seven years, are permitted to revisit earth.
Gervase mentions one woman, in particular, who had
been allured by observing a wooden dish, or cup, float
by her, while washing clothes in a river. Being
seized as soon as she reached the depths, she was
conducted into one of these subterranean recesses,
which she described as very magnificent, and employed
as nurse to one of the brood of the hag who had allured
her. During her residence in this capacity, having
accidentally touched one of her eyes with an ointment
of serpent’s grease, she perceived, at her return
to the world, that she had acquired the faculty of
seeing the dracae, when they intermingle themselves
with men. Of this power she was, however, deprived
by the touch of her ghostly mistress, whom she had
one day incautiously addressed. It is a curious
fact, that this story, in almost all its parts, is
current in both the Highlands and Lowlands of Scotland,
with no other variation than the substitution of Fairies
for dracae, and the cavern of a hill for that
of a river.[A] These water fiends are thus characterized
by Heywood, in the Hierarchie—
“Spirits, that have o’er water
gouvernement, Are to mankind alike malevolent;
They trouble seas, flouds, rivers, brookes, and wels,
Meres, lakes, and love to enhabit watry cells; Hence
noisome and pestiferous vapours raise; Besides,
they men encounter divers ways. At wreckes
some present are; another sort, Ready to cramp their
joints that swim for sport: One kind of these,
the Italians fatae name, Fee the French,
we sybils, and the same; Others white
nymphs, and those that have them seen, Night
ladies some, of which Habundia queen.
Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels,
p. 507.
[Footnote A: Indeed, many of
the vulgar account it extremely dangerous to touch
any thing, which they may happen to find, without saining
(blessing) it, the snares of the enemy being notorious
and well attested. A poor woman of Tiviotdale,
having been fortunate enough, as she thought herself,
to find a wooden beetle, at the very time when she
needed such an implement, seized it without pronouncing
the proper blessing, and, carrying it home, laid it
above her bed, to be ready for employment in the morning.
At midnight, the window of her cottage opened, and
a loud voice was heard, calling upon some one within,
by a strange and uncouth name, which I have forgotten.
The terrified cottager ejaculated a prayer, which,
we may suppose, insured her personal safety; while
the enchanted implement of housewifery, tumbling from
the bed-stead, departed by the window with no small
noise and precipitation. In a humorous fugitive
tract, the late Dr Johnson is introduced as disputing
the authenticity of an apparition, merely because the
spirit assumed the shape of a tea-pot, and of a shoulder
of mutton. No doubt, a case so much in point,
as that we have now quoted, would have removed his
incredulity.]
The following Frisian superstition,
related by Schott, in his Physica Curiosa,
p. 362, on the authority of Cornelius a Kempen, coincides
more accurately with the popular opinions concerning
the Fairies, than even the dracae of Gervase,
or the water-spirits of Thomas Heywood.—“In
the time of the emperor Lotharius, in 830,” says
he, “many spectres infested Frieseland, particularly
the white nymphs of the ancients, which the moderns
denominate witte wiven, who inhabited a subterraneous
cavern, formed in a wonderful manner, without human
art, on the top of a lofty mountain. These were
accustomed to surprise benighted travellers, shepherds
watching their herds and flocks, and women newly delivered,
with their children; and convey them into their caverns,
from which subterranean murmurs, the cries of children,
the groans and lamentations of men, and sometimes
imperfect words, and all kinds of musical sounds,
were heard to proceed.” The same superstition
is detailed by Bekker, in his World Bewitch’d,
p. 196, of the English translation. As the different
classes of spirits were gradually confounded, the
abstraction of children seems to have been chiefly
ascribed to the elves, or Fairies; yet not so entirely,
as to exclude hags and witches from the occasional
exertion of their ancient privilege.—In
Germany, the same confusion of classes has not taken
place. In the beautiful ballads of the Erl
King, the Water King, and the Mer-Maid,
we still recognize the ancient traditions of the Goths,
concerning the wald-elven, and the dracae.
A similar superstition, concerning
abstraction by daemons, seems, in the time of Gervase
of Tilbury, to have pervaded the greatest part of
Europe. “In Catalonia,” says that
author, “there is a lofty mountain, named Cavagum,
at the foot of which runs a river with golden sands,
in the vicinity of which there are likewise mines
of silver. This mountain is steep, and almost
inaccessible. On its top, which is always covered
with ice and snow, is a black and bottomless lake,
into which if a stone be thrown, a tempest suddenly
rises; and near this lake, though invisible to men,
is the porch of the palace of daemons. In a town
adjacent to this mountain, named Junchera, lived one
Peter de Cabinam. Being one day teazed with the
fretfulness of his young daughter, he, in his impatience,
suddenly wished that the devil might take her; when
she was immediately borne away by the spirits.
About seven years afterwards, an inhabitant of the
same city, passing by the mountain, met a man, who
complained bitterly of the burthen he was constantly
forced to bear. Upon enquiring the cause of his
complaining, as he did not seem to carry any load,
the man related, that he had been unwarily devoted
to the spirits by an execration, and that they now
employed him constantly as a vehicle of burthen.
As a proof of his assertion, he added, that the daughter
of his fellow-citizen was detained by the spirits,
but that they were willing to restore her, if her
father would come and demand her on the mountain.
Peter de Cabinam, on being informed of this, ascended
the mountain to the lake, and, in the name of God,
demanded his daughter; when, a tall, thin, withered
figure, with wandering eyes, and almost bereft of
understanding, was wafted to him in a blast of wind.
After some time, the person, who had been employed
as the vehicle of the spirits, also returned, when
he related where the palace of the spirits was situated;
but added, that none were permitted to enter but those
who devoted themselves entirely to the spirits; those,
who had been rashly committed to the devil by others,
being only permitted, during their probation, to enter
the porch.” It may be proper to observe,
that the superstitious idea, concerning the lake on
the top of the mountain, is common to almost every
high hill in Scotland. Wells, or pits, on the
top of high hills, were likewise supposed to lead to
the subterranean habitations of the Fairies.
Thus, Gervase relates, (p. 975), “that he was
informed the swine-herd of William Peverell, an English
baron, having lost a brood-sow, descended through
a deep abyss, in the middle of an ancient ruinous
castle, situated on the top of a hill, called Bech,
in search of it. Though a violent wind commonly
issued from this pit, he found it calm; and pursued
his way, till he arrived at a subterraneous region,
pleasant and cultivated, with reapers cutting down
corn, though the snow remained on the surface of the
ground above. Among the ears of corn he discovered
his sow, and was permitted to ascend with her, and
the pigs which she had farrowed.” Though
the author seems to think that the inhabitants of
this cave might be Antipodes, yet, as many such stories
are related of the Fairies, it is probable that this
narration is of the same kind. Of a similar nature
seems to be another superstition, mentioned by the
same author, concerning the ringing of invisible bells,
at the hour of one, in a field in the vicinity of
Carleol, which, as he relates, was denominated Laikibraine,
or Lai ki brait. From all these tales,
we may perhaps be justified in supposing, that the
faculties and habits ascribed to the Fairies, by the
superstition of latter days, comprehended several,
originally attributed to other classes of inferior
spirits.
III. The notions, arising from
the spirit of chivalry, combined to add to the Fairies
certain qualities, less atrocious, indeed, but equally
formidable, with those which they derived from the
last mentioned source, and alike inconsistent with
the powers of the duergar, whom we may term
their primitive prototype. From an early period,
the daring temper of the northern tribes urged them
to defy even the supernatural powers. In the
days of Caesar, the Suevi were described, by their
countrymen, as a people, with whom the immortal gods
dared not venture to contend. At a later period,
the historians of Scandinavia paint their heroes and
champions, not as bending at the altar of their deities,
but wandering into remote forests and caverns, descending
into the recesses of the tomb, and extorting boons,
alike from gods and daemons, by dint of the sword,
and battle-axe. I will not detain the reader by
quoting instances, in which heaven is thus described
as having been literally attempted by storm.
He may consult Saxo, Olaus Wormius, Olaus Magnus,
Torfaeus, Bartholin, and other northern antiquaries.
With such ideas of superior beings, the Normans, Saxons,
and other Gothic tribes, brought their ardent courage
to ferment yet more highly in the genial climes of
the south, and under the blaze of romantic chivalry.
Hence, during the dark ages, the invisible world was
modelled after the material; and the saints, to the
protection of whom the knights-errant were accustomed
to recommend themselves, were accoutered like preux
chevaliers, by the ardent imaginations of their
votaries. With such ideas concerning the inhabitants
of the celestial regions, we ought not to be surprised
to find the inferior spirits, of a more dubious nature
and origin, equipped in the same disguise. Gervase
of Tilbury (Otia Imperial, ap. Script, rer.
Brunsvic, Vol. I. p. 797.) relates the following
popular story concerning a Fairy Knight. “Osbert,
a bold and powerful baron, visited a noble family
in the vicinity of Wandlebury, in the bishopric of
Ely. Among other stories related in the social
circle of his friends, who, according to custom, amused
each other by repeating ancient tales and traditions,
he was informed, that if any knight, unattended, entered
an adjacent plain by moon-light, and challenged an
adversary to appear, he would be immediately encountered
by a spirit in the form of a knight. Osbert resolved
to make the experiment, and set out, attended by a
single squire, whom he ordered to remain without the
limits of the plain, which was surrounded by an ancient
entrenchment. On repeating the challenge, he
was instantly assailed by an adversary, whom he quickly
unhorsed, and seized the reins of his steed. During
this operation, his ghostly opponent sprung up, and,
darting his spear, like a javelin, at Osbert, wounded
him in the thigh. Osbert returned in triumph with
the horse, which he committed to the care of his servants.
The horse was of a sable colour, as well as his whole
accoutrements, and apparently of great beauty and
vigour. He remained with his keeper till cock-crowing,
when, with eyes flashing fire, he reared, spurned the
ground, and vanished. On disarming himself, Osbert
perceived that he was wounded, and that one of his
steel boots was full of blood. Gervase adds,
that, as long as he lived, the scar of his wound opened
afresh on the anniversary of the eve on which he encountered
the spirit.”[A] Less fortunate was the gallant Bohemian
knight, who, travelling by night, with a single companion,
came in sight of a fairy host, arrayed under displayed
banners. Despising the remonstrances of his friend,
the knight pricked forward to break a lance with a
champion who advanced from the ranks, apparently in
defiance. His companion beheld the Bohemian over-thrown
horse and man, by his aërial adversary; and, returning
to the spot next morning, he found the mangled, corpse
of the knight and steed.—Hierarchie
of Blessed Angels, p. 554.
[Footnote A: The unfortunate
Chatterton was not, probably, acquainted with Gervase
of Tilbury; yet he seems to allude, in the Battle
of Hastings, to some modification of Sir Osbert’s
adventure:
So who they be that ouphant fairies strike,
Their souls shall wander to King Offa’s
dike.
The entrenchment, which served as
lists for the combatants, is said by Gervase to have
been the work of the pagan invaders of Britain.
In the metrical romance of Arthour and Merlin,
we have also an account of Wandlesbury being occupied
by the Sarasins, i.e. the Saxons; for all pagans
were Saracens with the romancers. I presume the
place to have been Wodnesbury, in Wiltshire, situated
on the remarkable mound, called Wansdike, which is
obviously a Saxon work.—GOUGH’S Cambden’s
Britannia, pp. 87—95.]
To the same current of warlike ideas,
we may safely attribute the long train of military
processions which the Fairies are supposed occasionally
to exhibit. The elves, indeed, seem in this point
to be identified with the aërial host, termed, during
the middle ages, the Milites Herlikini, or
Herleurini, celebrated by Pet. Blesensis,
and termed, in the life of St Thomas of Canterbury,
the Familia Helliquinii. The chief of
this band was originally a gallant knight and warrior;
but, having spent his whole possessions in the service
of the emperor, and being rewarded with scorn, and
abandoned to subordinate oppression, he became desperate,
and, with his sons and followers, formed a band of
robbers. After committing many ravages, and defeating
all the forces sent against him, Hellequin, with his
whole troop, fell in a bloody engagement with the
Imperial host. His former good life was supposed
to save him from utter reprobation; but he and his
followers were condemned, after death, to a state
of wandering, which should endure till the last day.
Retaining their military habits, they were usually
seen in the act of justing together, or in similar
warlike employments. See the ancient French romance
of Richard sans Peur. Similar to this
was the Nacht Lager, or midnight camp, which
seemed nightly to beleaguer the walls of Prague,
“With ghastly faces thronged, and
fiery arms,”
but which disappeared upon recitation
of the magical words, Vezelé, Vezelé, ho! ho! ho!—For
similar delusions, see DELRIUS, pp. 294, 295.
The martial spirit of our ancestors
led them to defy these aërial warriors; and it is
still currently believed, that he, who has courage
to rush upon a fairy festival, and snatch from them
their drinking cup, or horn, shall find it prove to
him a cornucopia of good fortune, if he can bear it
in safety across a running stream. Such a horn
is said to have been presented to Henry I. by a lord
of Colchester.—GERVAS TILB. p. 980.
A goblet is still carefully preserved in Edenhall,
Cumberland, which is supposed to have been seized
at a banquet of the elves, by one of the ancient family
of Musgrave; or, as others say, by one of their domestics,
in the manner above described. The Fairy train
vanished, crying aloud,
If this glass do break or fall,
Farewell the luck of Edenhall!
The goblet took a name from the prophecy,
under which it is mentioned, in the burlesque ballad,
commonly attributed to the duke of Wharton, but in
reality composed by Lloyd, one of his jovial companions.
The duke, after taking a draught, had nearly terminated
the “luck of Edenhall,” had not the butler
caught the cup in a napkin, as it dropped from his
grace’s hands. I understand it is not now
subjected to such risques, but the lees of wine are
still apparent at the bottom.
God prosper long, from being broke,
The luck of Edenhall.—Parody
on Chevy Chace.
Some faint traces yet remain, on the
borders, of a conflict of a mysterious and terrible
nature, between mortals and the spirits of the wilds.
This superstition is incidentally alluded to by Jackson,
at the beginning of the 17th century. The fern
seed, which is supposed to become visible only on
St John’s Eve,[A] and at the very moment when
the Baptist was born, is held by the vulgar to be under
the special protection of the queen of Faëry.
But, as the seed was supposed to have the quality
of rendering the possessor invisible at pleasure,[B]
and to be also of sovereign use in charms and incantations,
persons of courage, addicted to these mysterious arts,
were wont to watch in solitude, to gather it at the
moment when it should become visible. The particular
charms, by which they fenced themselves during this
vigil, are now unknown; but it was reckoned a feat
of no small danger, as the person undertaking it was
exposed to the most dreadful assaults from spirits,
who dreaded the effect of this powerful herb in the
hands of a cabalist. Such were the shades, which
the original superstition, concerning the. Fairies,
received from the chivalrous sentiments of the middle
ages.
[Footnote A:
Ne’er be I found by thee unawed,
On that thrice hallowed eve abroad,
When goblins haunt, from fire and fen.
And wood and lake, the steps of men.
COLLINS’S
Ode to Fear.
The whole history of St John the Baptist
was, by our ancestors, accounted mysterious, and connected
with their own superstitions. The fairy queen
was sometimes identified with Herodias.—DELRII
Disquisitiones Magicae, pp. 168. 807. It
is amusing to observe with what gravity the learned
Jesuit contends, that it is heresy to believe that
this celebrated figurante (saltatricula) still
leads choral dances upon earth!]
[Footnote B: This is alluded
to by Shakespeare, and other authors of his time:
“We have the receipt of fern-seed;
we walk invisible.”
Henry IV.
Part 1st, Act 2d, Sc. 3.]
IV. An absurd belief in the fables
of classical antiquity lent an additional feature
to the character of the woodland spirits of whom we
treat. Greece and Rome had not only assigned tutelary
deities to each province and city, but had peopled,
with peculiar spirits, the Seas, the Rivers, the Woods,
and the Mountains. The memory of the pagan creed
was not speedily eradicated, in the extensive provinces
through which it was once universally received; and,
in many particulars, it continued long to mingle with,
and influence, the original superstitions of the Gothic
nations. Hence, we find the elves occasionally
arrayed in the costume of Greece and Rome, and the
Fairy Queen and her attendants transformed into Diana
and her nymphs, and invested with their attributes
and appropriate insignia.—DELRIUS, pp.
168, 807. According to the same author, the Fairy
Queen was also called Habundia. Like Diana,
who, in one capacity, was denominated Hecate,
the goddess of enchantment, the Fairy Queen is identified
in popular tradition, with the Gyre-Carline, Gay
Carline, or mother witch, of the Scottish peasantry.
Of this personage, as an individual, we have but few
notices. She is sometimes termed Nicneven,
and is mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland,
by Lindsay in his Dreme, p. 225, edit. 1590,
and in his Interludes, apud PINKERTON’S
Scottish Poems, Vol. II. p. 18. But
the traditionary accounts regarding her are too obscure
to admit of explanation. In the burlesque fragment
subjoined, which is copied from the Bannatyne MS. the
Gyre Carline is termed the Queen of Jowis (Jovis,
or perhaps Jews), and is, with great consistency,
married to Mohammed.[A]
[Footnote A:
In Tyberius tyme, the trew imperatour,
Quhen Tynto hills fra skraipiug of toun-henis
was keipit,
Thair dwelt are grit Gyre Carling in awld
Betokis bour,
That levit upoun Christiane menis flesche,
and rewheids unleipit;
Thair wynit ane hir by, on the west syde,
callit Blasour,
For luve of hir lanchane lippis, he walit
and he weipit;
He gadderit are menzie of modwartis to
warp doun the tour:
The Carling with are yren club, quhen
yat Blasour sleipit,
Behind the heil scho
hat him sic ane blaw,
Quhil Blasour bled ane
quart
Off milk pottage inwart,
The Carling luche, and
lut fart
North Berwik
Law.
The king of fary than come, with elfis
many ane,
And sett are sege, and are salt, with
grit pensallis of pryd;
And all the doggis fra Dunbar wes thair
to Dumblane,
With all the tykis of Tervey, come to
thame that tyd;
Thay quelle doune with thair gonnes mony
grit stane,
The Carling schup hir on ane sow, and
is her gaitis gane,
Grunting our the Greik sie, and durst
na langer byd,
For bruklyng of bargane, and breikhig
of browis:
The Carling now for
dispyte
Is maieit with Mahomyte,
And will the doggis
interdyte,
For scho
is queue of Jowis.
Sensyne the cockis of Crawmound crew nevir
at day,
For dule of that devillisch deme wes with
Mahoun mareit,
And the henis of Hadingtoun sensyne wald
not lay,
For this wild wibroun wich thame widlit
sa and wareit;
And the same North Berwik Law, as I heir
wyvis say,
This Carling, with a fals east, wald away
careit;
For to luck on quha sa lykis, na langer
scho tareit:
All this languor for love before tymes
fell,
Lang or Betok was born,
Scho bred of ane accorne;
The laif of the story
to morne,
To you I
sall telle.]
But chiefly in Italy were traced many
dim characters of ancient mythology, in the creed
of tradition. Thus, so lately as 1536, Vulcan,
with twenty of his Cyclops, is stated to have presented
himself suddenly to a Spanish merchant, travelling
in the night, through the forests of Sicily; an apparition,
which was followed by a dreadful eruption of Mount
Aetna.—Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels,
p. 504 Of this singular mixture, the reader will find
a curious specimen in the following tale, wherein
the Venus of antiquity assumes the manners of one
of the Fays, or Fatae, of romance. “In the
year 1058, a young man of noble birth had been married
at Rome, and, during the period of his nuptial feast,
having gone with his companions to play at ball, he
put his marriage ring on the finger of a broken statue
of Venus in the area, to remain, while he was engaged
in the recreation. Desisting from the exercise,
he found the finger, on which he had put his ring,
contracted firmly against the palm, and attempted
in vain either to break it, or to disengage his ring.
He concealed the circumstance from his companions,
and returned at night with a servant, when he found
the finger extended, and his ring gone. He dissembled
the loss, and returned to his wife; but, whenever
he attempted to embrace her, he found himself prevented
by something dark and dense, which was tangible, though
not visible, interposing between them; and he heard
a voice saying, ’Embrace me! for I am Venus,
whom this day you wedded, and I will not restore your
ring.’ As this was constantly repeated,
he consulted his relations, who had recourse to Palumbus,
a priest, skilled in necromancy. He directed the
young man to go, at a certain hour of night, to a spot
among the ruins of ancient Rome, where four roads
met, and wait silently till he saw a company pass
by, and then, without uttering a word, to deliver a
letter, which he gave him, to a majestic being, who
rode in a chariot, after the rest of the company.
The young man did as he was directed; and saw a company
of all ages, sexes, and ranks, on horse and on foot,
some joyful and others sad, pass along; among whom
he distinguished a woman in a meretricious dress,
who, from the tenuity of her garments, seemed almost
naked. She rode on a mule; her long hair, which
flowed over her shoulders, was bound with a golden
fillet; and in her hand was a golden rod, with which
she directed her mule. In the close of the procession,
a tall majestic figure appeared in a chariot, adorned
with emeralds and pearls, who fiercely asked the young
man, ‘What he did there?’ He presented
the letter in silence, which the daemon dared not refuse.
As soon as he had read, lifting up his hands to heaven,
he exclaimed, ’Almighty God! how long wilt thou
endure the iniquities of the sorcerer Palumbus!’
and immediately dispatched some of his attendants,
who, with much difficulty, extorted the ring from
Venus, and restored it to its owner, whose infernal
banns were thus dissolved.”—FORDUNI
Scotichronicon, Vol. I. p. 407, cura
GOODALL.
But it is rather in the classical
character of an infernal deity, that the elfin queen
may be considered, than as Hecate, the patroness
of magic; for not only in the romance writers, but
even in Chaucer, are the Fairies identified with the
ancient inhabitants of the classical hell. Thus
Chaucer, in his Marchand’s Tale, mentions
Pluto that is king of fayrie—and
Proserpine and all her fayrie.
In the Golden Terge of Dunbar,
the same phraseology is adopted: Thus,
Thair was Pluto that elricke incubus
In cloke of grene, his court usit in sable.
Even so late as 1602, in Harsenet’s
Declaration of Popish Imposture, p. 57, Mercury
is called Prince of the Fairies.
But Chaucer, and those poets who have
adopted his phraseology, have only followed the romance
writers; for the same substitution occurs in the romance
of Orfeo and Heurodis, in which the story of
Orpheus and Eurydice is transformed into a beautiful
romantic tale of faëry, and the Gothic mythology engrafted
on the fables of Greece. Heurodis is represented
as wife of Orfeo, and queen of Winchester, the
ancient name of which city the romancer, with unparalleled
ingenuity, discovers to have been Traciens, or Thrace.
The monarch, her husband, had a singular genealogy:
His fader was comen of King Pluto,
And his moder of King Juno;
That sum time were as godes y-holde,
For aventours that thai dede and tolde.
Reposing, unwarily, at noon, under
the shade of an ymp tree,[A] Heurodis dreams
that she is accosted by the King of Fairies,
With an hundred knights and mo,
And damisels an hundred also,
Al on snowe white stedes;
As white as milke were her wedes;
Y no seigh never yete bifore,
So fair creatours y-core:
The kinge hadde a croun on hed,
It nas of silver, no of golde red,
Ac it was of a precious ston:
As bright as the sonne it schon.
[Footnote A: Ymp tree—According
to the general acceptation, this only signifies a
grafted tree; whether it should he here understood
to mean a tree consecrated to the imps, or fairies,
is left with the reader.]
The King of Fairies, who had obtained
power over the queen, perhaps from her sleeping at
noon in his domain, orders her, under the penalty of
being torn to pieces, to await him to-morrow under
the ymp tree, and accompany him to Fairy-Land.
She relates her dream to her husband, who resolves
to accompany her, and attempt her rescue:
A morwe the under tide is come,
And Orfeo hath his armes y-nome,
And wele ten hundred knights with him,
Ich y-armed stout and grim;
And with the quen wenten he,
Right upon that ympe tre.
Thai made scheltrom in iche aside,
And sayd thai wold there abide,
And dye ther everichon,
Er the qeun schuld fram hem gon:
Ac yete amiddes hem ful right,
The quen was oway y-twight,
With Fairi forth y-nome,
Men wizt never wher sche was become.
After this fatal catastrophe, Orfeo,
distracted for the loss of his queen, abandons his
throne, and, with his harp, retires into a wilderness,
where he subjects himself to every kind of austerity,
and attracts the wild beasts by the pathetic melody
of his harp. His state of desolation is poetically
described:
He that werd the fowe and griis,
And on bed the purpur biis,
Now on bard hethe he lith.
With leves and gresse he him writh:
He that had castells and tours,
Rivers, forests, frith with flowrs.
Now thei it commence to snewe and freze,
This king mot make his bed in mese:
He that had y-had knightes of priis,
Bifore him kneland and leuedis,
Now seth he no thing that him liketh,
Bot wild wormes bi him striketh:
He that had y-had plente
Of mete and drinke, of ich deynte,
Now may he al daye digge and wrote,
Er he find his fille of rote.
In sorner he liveth bi wild fruit,
And verien hot gode lite.
In winter may he no thing find,
Bot rotes, grases, and the rinde.
* * * *
His here of his herd blac and rowe,
To his girdel stede was growe;
His harp, whereon was al his gle,
He hidde in are holwe tre:
And, when the weder was clere and bright,
He toke his harpe to him wel right,
And harped at his owen will,
Into al the wode the soun gan shill,
That al the wild bestes that ther beth
For joie abouten him thai teth;
And al the foules that ther wer,
Come and sete on ich a brere,
To here his harping a fine,
So miche melody was therein.
At last he discovers, that he is not
the sole inhabitant of this desart; for
He might se him besides
Oft in hot undertides,
The king of Fairi, with his route,
Come to hunt him al about,
With dim cri and bloweing,
And houndes also with him berking;
Ac no best thai no nome,
No never he nist whider thai bi come.
And other while he might hem se
As a gret ost bi him te,
Well atourued ten hundred knightes,
Ich y-armed to his rightes,
Of cuntenance stout and fers,
With mani desplaid baners;
And ich his sword y-drawe hold,
Ac never he nist whider thai wold.
And otherwhile he seighe other thing;
Knightis and lenedis com daunceing,
In queynt atire gisely,
Queyete pas and softlie:
Tabours and trumpes gede hem bi,
And al mauer menstraci.—
And on a day he seighe him biside,
Sexti leuedis on hors ride,
Gentil and jolif as brid on ris;
Nought o man amonges hem ther nis;
And ich a faucoun on bond bere,
And riden on hauken bi o river.
Of game thai found wel gode haunt,
Maulardes, hayroun, and cormoraunt;
The foules of the water ariseth,
Ich faucoun hem wele deviseth,
Ich fancoun his pray slough,
That seize Orfeo and lough.
“Par fay,” quoth he, “there
is fair game,
“Hider Ichil bi Godes name,
“Ich was y won swich work to se:”
He aros, and thider gan te;
To a leuedie hi was y-come,
Bihelde, and hath wel under nome,
And seth, bi al thing, that is
His owen quen, dam Heurodis;
Gern hi biheld her, and sche him eke,
Ac nouther to other a word no speke:
For messais that sche on him seighe,
That had ben so riche and so heighe,
The teres fel out of her eighe;
The other leuedis this y seighe,
And maked hir oway to ride,
Sche most with him no longer obide.
“Allas!” quoth he, “nowe
is mi woe,
“Whi nil deth now me slo;
“Allas! to long last mi liif,
“When y no dare nought with mi wif,
“Nor hye to me o word speke;
“Allas whi nil miin hert breke!
“Par fay,” quoth he, “tide
what betide,
“Whider so this leuedis ride,
“The selve way Ichil streche;
“Of liif, no dethe, me no reche.
In consequence, therefore, of this
discovery Orfeo pursues the hawking damsels,
among whom he has descried his lost queen. They
enter a rock, the king continues the pursuit, and
arrives at Fairy-Land, of which the following very
poetical description is given:
In at roche the leuedis rideth,
And he after and nought abideth;
When he was in the roche y-go,
Wele thre mile other mo,
He com into a fair cuntray,
As bright soonne somers day,
Smothe and plain and al grene,
Hill no dale nas none ysene,
Amiddle the loud a castel he seighe,
Rich and reale and wonder heighe;
Al the utmast wal
Was cler and schine of cristal;
An hundred tours ther were about,
Degiselich and bataild stout;
The butrass come out of the diche,
Of rede gold y-arched riche;
The bousour was anowed al,
Of ich maner deuers animal;
Within ther wer wide wones
Al of precious stones,
The werss piler onto biholde,
Was al of burnist gold:
Al that loud was ever light,
For when it schuld be therk and night,
The riche stonnes light gonne,
Bright as doth at nonne the sonne
No man may tel, no thenke in thought.
The riche werk that ther was rought.
* * *
Than he gan biholde about
al,
And seighe ful liggeand with in the wal,
Of folk that wer thidder y-brought,
And thought dede and nere nought;
Sum stode with outen hadde;
And some none armes nade;
And sum thurch the bodi hadde wounde;
And sum lay wode y-bounde;
And sum armed on hors sete;
And sum astrangled as thai ete;
And sum war in water adreynt;
And sum with fire al for schreynt;
Wives ther lay on childe bedde;
Sum dede, and sum awedde;
And wonder fere ther lay besides,
Right as thai slepe her undertides;
Eche was thus in this warld y-nome,
With fairi thider y-come.[A]
There he seize his owhen wiif,
Dame Heurodis, his liif liif,
Slepe under an ympe tree:
Bi her clothes he knewe that it was he,
And when he had bihold this
mervalis alle,
He went into the kinges halle;
Then seigh he there a semly sight,
A tabernacle blisseful and bright;
Ther in her maister king sete,
And her quen fair and swete;
Her crounes, her clothes schine so bright,
That unnethe bihold he hem might.
Orfeo
and Heurodis, MS.
[Footnote A: It was perhaps from
such a description that Ariosto adopted his idea of
the Lunar Paradise, containing every thing that on
earth was stolen or lost.]
Orfeo, as a minstrel, so charms
the Fairy King with the music of his harp, that he
promises to grant him whatever he should ask.
He immediately demands his lost Heurodis; and,
returning safely with her to Winchester, resumes his
authority; a catastrophe, less pathetic indeed, but
more pleasing, than that of the classical story.
The circumstances, mentioned in this romantic legend,
correspond very exactly with popular tradition.
Almost all the writers on daemonology mention, as
a received opinion that the power of the daemons is
most predominant at noon and midnight. The entrance
to the Land of Faëry is placed in the wilderness;
a circumstance, which coincides with a passage in
Lindsay’s Complaint of the Papingo:
Bot sen my spreit mon from my bodye go,
I recommend it to the queue of Fary,
Eternally into her court to tarry
In wilderness amang the holtis
hair.
LINDSAY’S
Works, 1592, p. 222.
Chaucer also agrees, in this particular,
with our romancer:
In his sadel he clombe anon,
And priked over stile and ston,
An elf quene for to espie;
Til he so long had riden and gone
That he fond in a privie wone
The countree of Faërie.
Wherein he soughte north and south,
And often spired with his mouth,
In many a foreste wilde;
For in that countree nas ther non,
That to him dorst ride or gon,
Neither wif ne childe.
Rime of Sir
Thopas.
V. Other two causes, deeply affecting
the superstition of which we treat, remain yet to
be noticed. The first is derived from the Christian
religion, which admits only of two classes of spirits,
exclusive of the souls of men—Angels, namely,
and Devils. This doctrine had a necessary tendency
to abolish the distinction among subordinate spirits,
which had been introduced by the superstitions of
the Scandinavians. The existence of the Fairies
was readily admitted; but, as they had no pretensions
to the angelic character, they were deemed to be of
infernal origin. The union, also, which had been
formed betwixt the elves and the Pagan deities, was
probably of disservice to the former; since every one
knows, that the whole synod of Olympus were accounted
daemons.
The fulminations of the church were,
therefore, early directed against those, who consulted
or consorted with the Fairies; and, according to the
inquisitorial logic, the innocuous choristers of Oberon
and Titania were, without remorse, confounded with
the sable inhabitants of the orthodox Gehennim; while
the rings, which marked their revels, were assimilated
to the blasted sward on which the witches held their
infernal sabbath.—Delrii Disq. Mag.
p. 179. This transformation early took place;
for, among the many crimes for which the famous Joan
of Arc was called upon to answer, it was not the least
heinous, that she had frequented the Tree and Fountain,
near Dompré, which formed the rendezvous of the Fairies,
and bore their name; that she had joined in the festive
dance with the elves, who haunted this charmed spot;
had accepted of their magical bouquets, and availed
herself of their talismans, for the delivery of her
country.—Vide Acta Judiciaria contra
Johannam D’Arceam, vulgo vocutam Johanne la Pucelle.
The Reformation swept away many of
the corruptions of the church of Rome; but the purifying
torrent remained itself somewhat tinctured by the
superstitious impurities of the soil over which it
had passed. The trials of sorcerers and witches,
which disgrace our criminal records, become even more
frequent after the Reformation of the church; as if
human credulity, no longer amused by the miracles of
Rome, had sought for food in the traditionary records
of popular superstition. A Judaical observation
of the precepts of the Old Testament also characterized
the Presbyterian reformers. “Thou shalt not suffer
a witch to live,” was a text, which at once (as
they conceived) authorized their belief in sorcery,
and sanctioned the penalty which they denounced against
it. The Fairies were, therefore, in no better
credit after the Reformation than before, being still
regarded as actual daemons, or something very little
better. A famous divine, Doctor Jasper Brokeman,
teaches us, in his system of divinity, “that
they inhabit in those places that are polluted with
any crying sin, as effusion of blood, or where unbelief
or superstitione have gotten the upper hand.”—Description
of Feroe. The Fairies being on such bad terms
with the divines, those, who pretended to intercourse
with them, were, without scruple, punished as sorcerers;
and such absurd charges are frequently stated as exaggerations
of crimes, in themselves sufficiently heinous.
Such is the case in the trial of the
noted Major Weir, and his sister; where the following
mummery interlards a criminal indictment, too infamously
flagitious to be farther detailed: “9th
April, 1670. Jean Weir, indicted of sorceries,
committed by her when she lived and kept a school
at Dalkeith: that she took employment from a woman,
to speak in her behalf to the Queen of Fairii,
meaning the Devil; and that another woman gave
her a piece of a tree, or root, the next day, and did
tell her, that as long as she kept the same, she should
be able to do what she pleased; and that same woman,
from whom she got the tree, caused her spread a cloth
before her door, and set her foot upon it, and to repeat
thrice, in the posture foresaid, these words, ’All
her losses and crosses go alongst to the doors,’
which was truly a consulting with the devil, and an
act of sorcery, &c. That after the spirit, in
the shape of a woman, who gave her the piece of tree,
had removed, she, addressing herself to spinning,
and having spun but a short time, found more yarn
upon the pirn than could possibly have come there by
good means.”[A]—Books of Adjournal.
[Footnote A: It is observed in
the record, that Major Weir, a man of the most vicious
character, was at the same time ambitious of appearing
eminently godly; and used to frequent the beds of sick
persons, to assist them with his prayers. On
such occasions, he put to his mouth a long staff,
which he usually carried, and expressed himself with
uncommon energy and fluency, of which he was utterly
incapable when the inspiring rod was withdrawn.
This circumstance, the result, probably, of a trick
or habit, appearing suspicious to the judges, the staff
of the sorcerer was burned along with his person.
One hundred and thirty years have elapsed since his
execution, yet no one has, during that space, ventured
to inhabit the house of this celebrated criminal.]
Neither was the judgment of the criminal
court of Scotland less severe against another familiar
of the Fairies, whose supposed correspondence with
the court of Elfland seems to have constituted the
sole crime, for which she was burned alive. Her
name was Alison Pearson, and she seems to have been
a very noted person. In a bitter satire against
Adamson, Bishop of St Andrews, he is accused of consulting
with sorcerers, particularly with this very woman;
and an account is given of her travelling through
Breadalbane, in the company of the Queen of Faëry,
and of her descrying, in the court of Elfland, many
persons, who had been supposed at rest in the peaceful
grave.[A] Among these we find two remarkable personages;
the secretary, young Maitland of Lethington, and one
of the old lairds of Buccleuch. The cause of their
being stationed in Elfland probably arose from the
manner of their decease; which, being uncommon and
violent, caused the vulgar to suppose that they had
been abstracted by the Fairies. Lethington, as
is generally supposed, died a Roman death during his
imprisonment in Leith; and the Buccleuch, whom I believe
to be here meant, was slain in a nocturnal scuffle
by the Kerrs, his hereditary enemies. Besides,
they were both attached to the cause of Queen Mary,
and to the ancient religion; and were thence, probably,
considered as more immediately obnoxious to the assaults
of the powers of darkness.[B] The indictment of Alison
Pearson notices her intercourse with the Archbishop
of St Andrews, and contains some particulars, worthy
of notice, regarding the court of Elfland. It
runs thus: “28th May, 1586. Alison
Pearson, in Byrehill, convicted of witchcraft, and
of consulting with evil spirits, in the form of one
Mr William Simpsone, her cosin, who she affirmed was
a gritt schollar, and doctor of medicine, that healed
her of her diseases when she was twelve years of age;
having lost the power of her syde, and having a familiaritie
with him for divers years, dealing with charms, and
abuseing the common people by her arts of witchcraft,
thir divers years by-past.
[Footnote A:
For oght the kirk culd him forbid,
He sped him sone, and gat the thrid;
Ane carling of the quene of Phareis,
That ewill win geir to elpliyne careis;
Through all Brade Abane scho has bene,
On horsbak on Hallow ewin;
And ay in seiking certayne nightis,
As scho sayis with sur silly wychirs:
And names out nybours sex or sewin,
That we belevit had bene in heawin;
Scho said scho saw theme weill aneugh,
And speciallie gude auld Balcleuch,
The secretar, and sundrie uther:
Ane William Symsone, her mother brother,
Whom fra scho has resavit a buike
For ony herb scho likes to luke;
It will instruct her how to tak it,
In saws and sillubs how to mak it;
With stones that meikle mair can doe,
In leich craft, where scho lays them toe:
A thousand maladeis scho hes mendit;
Now being tane, and apprehendit,
Scho being in the bischopis cure,
And keipit in his castle sure,
Without respect of worldlie glamer,
He past into the witches chalmer.
Scottish Poems
of XVI. Century, Edin. 1801,
Vol. II,
p. 320.]
[Footnote B: Buccleuch was a
violent enemy to the English, by whom his lands had
been repeatedly plundered (See Introduction,
p. xxvi), and a great advocate for the marriage betwixt
Mary and the dauphin, 1549. According to John
Knox, he had recourse even to threats, in urging the
parliament to agree to the French match. “The
laird of Buccleuch,” says the Reformer, “a
bloody man, with many Gods wounds, swore, they that
would not consent should do worse.”]
“Item, For banting and
repairing with the gude neighbours, and queene of
Elfland, thir divers years by-past, as she had confest;
and that she had friends in that court, which were
of her own blude, who had gude acquaintance of the
queene of Elfland, which might have helped her; but
she was whiles well, and whiles ill, sometimes with
them, a’nd other times away frae them; and that
she would be in her bed haille and feire, and would
not wytt where she would be the morn; and that she
saw not the queene this seven years, and that she
was seven years ill handled in the court of Elfland;
that, however, she kad gude friends there, and that
it was the gude neighbours that healed her, under God;
and that she was comeing and going to St Andrews to
haile folkes thir many years past.
“Item, Convict of the
said act of witchcraft, in as far as she confest that
the said Mr William Sympsoune, who was her guidsir
sone, born in Stirleing, who was the king’s
smith, who, when about eight years of age, was taken
away by ane Egyptian to Egypt; which Egyptian was a
gyant, where he remained twelve years, “and
then came home.
“Item, That she being
in Grange Muir, with some other folke, she, being
sick, lay downe; and, when alone, there came a man
to her, clad in green, who said to her, if she would
be faithful, he would do her good; but she, being
feared, cried out, but naebodye came to her; so she
said, if he came in God’s name, and for the
gude of her saule, it was well; but he gaid away:
that he appeared to her another tyme like a lustie
man, and many men and women with him; that, at seeing
him, she signed herself and prayed, and past with
them, and saw them making merrie with pypes, and gude
cheir and wine, and that she was carried with them;
and that when she telled any of these things, she
was sairlie tormentit by them; and that the first
time she gaed with them, she gat a sair straike frae
one of them, which took all the poustie[A] of
her syde frae her, and left ane ill-far’d mark
on her syde.
“Item, That she saw the
gude neighbours make their sawes[B] with panns and
fyres, and that they gathered the herbs before the
sun was up, and they came verie fearful sometimes
to her, and flaide© her very sair, which made her
cry, and threatened they would use her worse than before;
and, at last, they took away the power of her haile
syde frae her, which made her lye many weeks.
Sometimes they would come and sitt by her, and promise
all that she should never want if she would be faithful,
but if she would speak and telle of them, they should
murther her; and that Mr William Sympsoune is with
them, who healed her, and telt her all things; that
he is a young man not six years older than herself,
and that he will appear to her before the court comes;
that he told her he was taken away by them, and he
bidd her sign herself that she be not taken away,
for the teind of them are tane to hell everie year.
[Footnote A: Poustie—Power.]
[Footnote B: Sawes—Salves.]
[Footnote C: Flaide—Scared.]
“Item, That the said
Mr William told her what herbs were fit to cure every
disease, and how to use them; and particularlie tauld,
that the Bishop of St Andrews laboured under sindrie
diseases, sic as the riples, trembling, feaver, flux,
&c. and bade her make a sawe, and anoint several parts
of his body therewith, and gave directions for making
a posset, which she made and gave him.”
For this idle story the poor woman
actually suffered death. Yet, notwithstanding
the fervent arguments thus liberally used by the orthodox,
the common people, though they dreaded even to think
or speak about the Fairies, by no means unanimously
acquiesced in the doctrine, which consigned them to
eternal perdition. The inhabitants of the Isle
of Man call them the “good people, and
say they live in wilds, and forests, and on mountains,
and shun great cities, because of the wickedness acted
therein: all the houses are blessed where they
visit, for they fly vice. A person would be thought
impudently prophane who should suffer his family to
go to bed, without having first set a tub, or pail,
full of clean water, for those guests to bathe themselves
in, which the natives aver they constantly do, as
soon as ever the eyes of the family are closed, wherever
they vouchsafe to come.”—WALDREN’s
Works, p. 126. There are some curious,
and perhaps anomalous facts, concerning the history
of Fairies, in a sort of Cock-lane narrative, contained
in a letter from Moses Pitt, to Dr Edward Fowler, Lord
Bishop of Gloucester, printed at London in 1696, and
preserved in Morgan’s Phoenix Britannicus,
4to, London 1732.
Anne Jefferies was born in the parish
of St Teath, in the county of Cornwall, in 1626.
Being the daughter of a poor man, she resided as servant
in the house of the narrator’s father, and waited
upon the narrator himself, in his childhood.
As she was knitting stockings in an arbour of the
garden, “six small people, all in green clothes,”
came suddenly over the garden wall; at the sight of
whom, being much frightened, she was seized with convulsions,
and continued so long sick, that she became as a changeling,
and was unable to walk. During her sickness,
she frequently exclaimed, “They are just gone
out of the window! they are just gone out of the window!
do you not see them?” These expressions, as
she afterwards declared, related to their disappearing.
During the harvest, when every one was employed, her
mistress walked out; and dreading that Anne, who was
extremely weak and silly, might injure herself, or
the house, by the fire, with some difficulty persuaded
her to walk in the orchard till her return. She
accidentally hurt her leg, and, at her return, Anne
cured it, by stroking it with her hand. She appeared
to be informed of every particular, and asserted,
that she had this information from the Fairies, who
had caused the misfortune. After this, she performed
numerous cures, but would never receive money for them.
From harvest time to Christmas, she was fed by the
Fairies, and eat no other victuals but theirs.
The narrator affirms, that, looking one day through
the key-hole of the door of her chamber, he saw her
eating; and that she gave him a piece of bread, which
was the most delicious he ever tasted. The Fairies
always appeared to her in even numbers; never less
than two, nor more than eight, at a time. She
had always a sufficient stock of salves and medicines,
and yet neither made, nor purchased any; nor did she
ever appear to be in want of money. She, one day,
gave a silver cup, containing about a quart, to the
daughter of her mistress, a girl about four years
old, to carry to her mother, who refused to receive
it. The narrator adds, that he had seen her dancing
in the orchard among the trees, and that she informed
him she was then dancing with the Fairies. The
report of the strange cures which she performed, soon
attracted the attention of both ministers and magistrates.
The ministers endeavoured to persuade her, that the
Fairies by which she was haunted, were evil spirits,
and that she was under the delusion of the devil.
After they had left her, she was visited by the Fairies,
while in great perplexity; who desired her to cause
those, who termed them evil spirits, to read that
place of scripture, First Epistle of John,,
chap. iv. v. 1,—Dearly beloved, believe
not every spirit, but try the spirits, whether they
are of God, &c. Though Anne Jefferies could
not read, she produced a Bible folded down at this
passage. By the magistrates she was confined
three months, without food, in Bodmin jail, and afterwards
for some time in the house of Justice Tregeagle.
Before the constable appeared to apprehend her, she
was visited by the Fairies, who informed her what
was intended, and advised her to go with him.
When this account was given, on May 1, 1696, she was
still alive; but refused to relate any particulars
of her connection with the Fairies, or the occasion
on which they deserted her, lest she should again
fall under the cognizance of the magistrates.
Anne Jefferies’ Fairies were
not altogether singular in maintaining their good
character, in opposition to the received opinion of
the church. Aubrey and Lily, unquestionably judges
in such matters, had a high opinion of these beings,
if we may judge from the following succinct and business-like
memorandum of a ghost-seer. “Anno 1670.
Not far from Cirencester was an apparition. Being
demanded whether a good spirit or a bad, returned
no answer, but disappeared with a curious perfume,
and most melodious twang. M.W. Lilly believes
it was a Fairie. So Propertius,
Omnia finierat; tenues secessit in auras,
Mansit odor possis scire fuisse Deam!”
AUBREY’S
Miscellanies, p. 80.
A rustic, also, whom Jackson taxed
with magical practices, about 1620, obstinately denied
that the good King of the Fairies had any connection
with the devil; and some of the Highland seers, even
in our day, have boasted of their intimacy with the
elves, as an innocent and advantageous connection.
One Maccoan, in Appin, the last person eminently gifted
with the second sight, professed to my learned and
excellent friend, Mr Ramsay, of Ochtertyre, that he
owed his prophetic visions to their intervention.
VI. There remains yet another
cause to be noticed, which seems to have induced a
considerable alteration into the popular creed of England,
respecting Fairies. Many poets of the sixteenth
century, and, above all, our immortal Shakespeare,
deserting the hackneyed fictions of Greece and Rome,
sought for machinery in the superstitions of their
native country. “The fays, which nightly
dance upon the wold,” were an interesting subject;
and the creative imagination of the bard, improving
upon the vulgar belief, assigned to them many of those
fanciful attributes and occupations, which posterity
have since associated with the name of Fairy.
In such employments, as rearing the drooping flower,
and arranging the disordered chamber, the Fairies
of South Britain gradually lost the harsher character
of the dwarfs, or elves. Their choral dances
were enlivened by the introduction of the merry goblin
Puck,[A] for whose freakish pranks they exchanged
their original mischievous propensities. The
Fairies of Shakespeare, Drayton, and Mennis, therefore,
at first exquisite fancy portraits, may be considered
as having finally operated a change in the original
which gave them birth.[B]
[Footnote A: Robin Goodfellow,
or Hobgoblin, possesses the frolicksome qualities
of the French Lutin. For his full character,
the reader is referred to the Reliques of Ancient
Poetry. The proper livery of this sylvan
Momus is to be found in an old play. “Enter
Robin Goodfellow, in a suit of leather, close to his
body, his hands and face coloured russet colour, with
a flail.”—Grim, the Collier of
Croydon, Act 4, Scene 1. At other times, however,
he is presented in the vernal livery of the elves,
his associates:
Tim. “I have made
“Some speeches, sir, ill verse,
which have been spoke
“By a green Robin Goodfellow,
from Cheapside conduit,
“To my father’s company.”
The City Match,
Act I, Scene 6.]
[Footnote B: The Fairy land,
and Fairies of Spenser, have no connection with popular
superstition, being only words used to denote an Utopian
scene of action, and imaginary or allegorical characters;
and the title of the “Fairy Queen” being
probably suggested by the elfin mistress of Chaucer’s
Sir Thopas. The stealing of the Red Cross
Knight, while a child, is the only incident in the
poem which approaches to the popular character of
the Fairy:
—A Fairy thee unweeting reft;
There as thou sleptst in tender swadling
band,
And her base elfin brood there for thee
left:
Such men do changelings call, so chang’d
by Fairies theft.
Book I. Canto
10.]
While the fays of South Britain received
such attractive and poetical embellishments, those
of Scotland, who possessed no such advantage, retained
more of their ancient, and appropriate character.
Perhaps, also, the persecution which these sylvan
deities underwent, at the instance of the stricter
presbyterian clergy, had its usual effect, in hardening
their dispositions, or at least in rendering them more
dreaded by those among whom they dwelt. The face
of the country, too, might have some effect; as we
should naturally attribute a less malicious disposition,
and a less frightful appearance, to the fays who glide
by moon-light through the oaks of Windsor, than to
those who haunt the solitary heaths and lofty mountains
of the North. The fact at least is certain; and
it has not escaped a late ingenious traveller, that
the character of the Scottish Fairy is more harsh
and terrific than that which is ascribed to the elves
of our sister kingdom.—See STODDART’S
View of Scenery and Manners in Scotland.
The Fairies of Scotland are represented
as a diminutive race of beings, of a mixed, or rather
dubious nature, capricious in their dispositions,
and mischievous in their resentment. They inhabit
the interior of green hills, chiefly those of a conical
form, in Gaelic termed Sighan, on which they
lead their dances by moon-light; impressing upon the
surface the mark of circles, which sometimes appear
yellow and blasted, sometimes of a deep green hue;
and within which it is dangerous to sleep, or to be
found after sun-set. The removal of those large
portions of turf, which thunderbolts sometimes scoop
out of the ground with singular regularity, is also
ascribed to their agency. Cattle, which are suddenly
seized with the cramp, or some similar disorder, are
said to be elf-shot; and the approved cure
is, to chafe the parts affected with a blue bonnet,
which, it may be readily believed, often restores the
circulation. The triangular flints, frequently
found in Scotland, with which the ancient inhabitants
probably barbed their shafts, are supposed to be the
weapons of Fairy resentment, and are termed elf-arrow
heads. The rude brazen battle-axes of the
ancients, commonly called celts, are also ascribed
to their manufacture. But, like the Gothic duergar,
their skill is not confined to the fabrication of arms;
for they are heard sedulously hammering in linns,
precipices, and rocky or cavernous situations where,
like the dwarfs of the mines, mentioned by Georg.
Agricola, they busy themselves in imitating the actions
and the various employments of men. The brook
of Beaumont, for example, which passes, in its course,
by numerous linns and caverns, is notorious for being
haunted by the Fairies; and the perforated and rounded
stones, which are formed by trituration in its channel,
are termed, by the vulgar, fairy cups and dishes.
A beautiful reason is assigned, by Fletcher, for the
fays frequenting streams and fountains. He tells
us of
A virtuous well, about whose flowery banks
The nimble-footed Fairies dance their
rounds,
By the pale moon-shine, dipping oftentimes
Their stolen children, so to make them
free
From dying flesh, and dull mortality.
Faithful Shepherdess.
It is sometimes accounted unlucky
to pass such places, without performing some ceremony
to avert the displeasure of the elves. There
is, upon the top of Minchmuir, a mountain in Peebles-shire,
a spring, called the Cheese Well, because,
anciently, those who passed that way were wont to
throw into it a piece of cheese, as an offering to
the Fairies, to whom it was consecrated.
Like the feld elfen of the
Saxons, the usual dress of the Fairies is green; though,
on the moors, they have been sometimes observed in
heath-brown, or in weeds dyed with the stoneraw, or
lichen.[A] They often ride in invisible procession,
when their presence is discovered by the shrill ringing
of their bridles. On these occasions, they sometimes
borrow mortal steeds; and when such are found at morning,
panting and fatigued in their stalls, with their manes
and tails dishevelled and entangled, the grooms, I
presume, often find this a convenient excuse for their
situation; as the common belief of the elves quaffing
the choicest liquors in the cellars of the rich (see
the story of Lord Duffus below), might occasionally
cloak the delinquencies of an unfaithful butler.
[Footnote A: Hence the hero of
the ballad is termed an “elfin grey.”]
The Fairies, beside their equestrian
processions, are addicted it would seem, to the pleasures
of the chace. A young sailor, travelling by night
from Douglas, in the Isle of Man, to visit his sister,
residing in Kirk Merlugh, heard the noise of horses,
the holla of a huntsman, and the sound of a horn.
Immediately afterwards, thirteen horsemen, dressed
in green, and gallantly mounted, swept past him.
Jack was so much delighted with the sport, that he
followed them, and enjoyed the sound of the horn for
some miles; and it was not till he arrived at his sister’s
house that he learned the danger which he had incurred.
I must not omit to mention, that these little personages
are expert jockeys, and scorn to ride the little Manks
ponies, though apparently well suited to their size.
The exercise therefore, falls heavily upon the English
and Irish horses brought into the Isle of Man.
Mr Waldron was assured by a gentleman of Ballafletcher,
that he had lost three or four capital hunters by
these nocturnal excursions.—WALDRON’S
Works, p. 132. From the same author we
learn, that the Fairies sometimes take more legitimate
modes of procuring horses. A person of the utmost
integrity informed him, that, having occasion to sell
a horse, he was accosted among the mountains by a
little gentleman plainly dressed, who priced his horse,
cheapened him, and, after some chaffering, finally
purchased him. No sooner had the buyer mounted,
and paid the price, than, he sunk through the earth,
horse and man, to the astonishment and terror of the
seller; who experienced, however, no inconvenience
from dealing with so extraordinary a purchaser.—Ibid.
p. 135.
It is hoped the reader will receive,
with due respect, these, and similar stories, told
by Mr Waldron; for he himself, a scholar and a gentleman,
informs us, “as to circles in grass, and the
impression of small feet among the snow, I cannot
deny but I have seen them frequently, and once thought
I heard a whistle, as though in my ear, when nobody
that could make it was near me.” In this
passage there is a curious picture of the contagious
effects of a superstitious atmosphere. Waldron
had lived so long among the Manks, that he was almost
persuaded to believe their legends.
From the History of the Irish Bards,
by Mr Walker, and from the glossary subjoined to the
lively and ingenious Tale of Castle Rackrent,
we learn, that the same ideas, concerning Fairies,
are current among the vulgar in that country.
The latter authority mentions their inhabiting the
ancient tumuli, called Barrows, and their abstracting
mortals. They are termed “the good people;”
and when an eddy of wind raises loose dust and sand,
the vulgar believe that it announces a Fairy procession,
and bid God speed their journey.
The Scottish Fairies, in like manner,
sometimes reside in subterranean abodes, in the vicinity
of human habitations or, according to the popular
phrase, under the “door-stane,” or threshold;
in which situation, they sometimes establish an intercourse
with men, by borrowing and lending, and other kindly
offices. In this capacity they are termed “the
good neighbours,”[A] from supplying privately the wants
of their friends, and assisting them in all their transactions,
while their favours are concealed. Of this the
traditionary story of Sir Godfrey Macculloch forms
a curious example.
[Footnote A: Perhaps this epithet
is only one example, among many, of the extreme civility
which the vulgar in Scotland use towards spirits of
a, dubious, or even a determinedly mischievous, nature.
The archfiend himself is often distinguished by the
softened title of the “good-man.”
This epithet, so applied, must sound strange to a southern
ear; but, as the phrase bears various interpretations,
according to the places where it is used, so, in the
Scottish dialect, the good-man of such a place
signifies the tenant, or life-renter, in opposition
to the laird, or proprietor. Hence, the devil
is termed the good-man, or tenant, of the infernal
regions. In the book of the Universal Kirk, 13th
May, 1594, mention is made of “the horrible
superstitioune usit in Garioch, and dyvers parts of
the countrie, in not labouring a parcel of ground
dedicated to the devil, under the title of the Guid-man’s
Croft.” Lord Hailes conjectured this
to have been the tenenos adjoining to some
ancient Pagan temple. The unavowed, but obvious,
purpose of this practice, was to avert the destructive
rage of Satan from the neighbouring possessions.
It required various fulminations of the General Assembly
of the Kirk to abolish a practice bordering so nearly
upon the doctrine of the Magi.]
As this Gallovidian gentleman was
taking the air on horseback, near his own house, he
was suddenly accosted by a little old man, arrayed
in green, and mounted upon a white palfrey. After
mutual salutation, the old man gave Sir Godfrey to
understand, that he resided under his habitation,
and that he had great reason to complain of the direction
of a drain, or common sewer, which emptied itself
directly into his chamber of dais, [A] Sir Godfrey
Macculloch was a good deal startled at this extraordinary
complaint; but, guessing the nature of the being he
had to deal with, he assured the old man, with great
courtesy, that the direction of the drain should be
altered; and caused it be done accordingly. Many
years afterwards, Sir Godfrey had the misfortune to
kill, in a fray, a gentleman of the neighbourhood.
He was apprehended, tried, and condemned.[B] The scaffold,
upon which his head was to be struck off, was erected
on the Castle-hill of Edinburgh; but hardly had he
reached the fatal spot, when the old man, upon his
white palfrey, pressed through the crowd, with the
rapidity of lightning. Sir Godfrey, at his command,
sprung on behind him; the “good neighbour”
spurred his horse down the steep bank, and neither
he nor the criminal were ever again seen.
[Footnote A: The best chamber
was thus currently denominated in Scotland, from the
French dais, signifying that part of the ancient
halls which was elevated above the rest, and covered
with a canopy. The turf-seats, which occupy the
sunny side of a cottage wall, is also termed the dais.]
[Footnote B: In this particular,
tradition coincides with the real fact; the trial
took place in 1697.]
The most formidable attribute of the
elves, was their practice of carrying away, and exchanging,
children; and that of stealing human souls from their
bodies. “A persuasion prevails among the
ignorant,” says the author of a MS. history
of Moray, “that, in a consumptive disease, the
Fairies steal away the soul, and put the soul of a
Fairy in the room of it.” This belief prevails
chiefly along the eastern coast of Scotland, where
a practice, apparently of druidical origin, is used
to avert the danger. In the increase of the March
moon, withies of oak and ivy are cut, and twisted
into wreaths or circles, which they preserve till
next March. After that period, when persons are
consumptive, or children hectic, they cause them to
pass thrice through these circles. In other cases
the cure was more rough, and at least as dangerous
as the disease, as will appear from the following
extract:
“There is one thing remarkable
in this parish of Suddie (in Inverness-shire), which
I think proper to mention. There is a small hill
N.W. from the church, commonly called Therdy Hill,
or Hill of Therdie, as some term it; on the top of
which there is a well, which I had the curiosity to
view, because of the several reports concerning it.
When children happen to be sick, and languish long
in their malady, so that they almost turned skeletons,
the common people imagine they are taken away (at
least the substance) by spirits, called Fairies, and
the shadow left with them; so, at a particular season
in summer, they leave them all night themselves, watching
at a distance, near this well, and this they imagine
will either end or mend them; they say many
more do recover than do not. Yea, an honest tenant
who lives hard by it, and whom I had the curiosity
to discourse about it, told me it has recovered some,
who were about eight or nine years of age, and to his
certain knowledge they bring adult persons to it;
for, as he was passing one dark night, he heard groanings,
and coming to the well, he found a man, who had been
long sick, wrapped in a plaid, so that he could scarcely
move, a stake being fixed in the earth, with a rope,
or tedder, that was about the plaid; he had no sooner
enquired what he was, but he conjured him to loose
him, and out of sympathy he was pleased to slacken
that, wherein he was, as I may so speak, swaddled;
but, if I right remember, he signified, he did not
recover.”—Account of the Parish
of Suddie, apud Macfarlane’s MSS.
According to the earlier doctrine,
concerning the original corruption of human nature,
the power of daemons over infants had been long reckoned
considerable, in the period intervening between birth
and baptism. During this period, therefore, children
were believed to be particularly liable to abstraction
by the Fairies, and mothers chiefly dreaded the substitution
of changelings in the place of their own offspring.
Various monstrous charms existed in Scotland, for
procuring the restoration of a child, which had been
thus stolen; but the most efficacious of them was
supposed to be, the roasting of the suppositious child
upon the live embers, when it was believed it would
vanish, and the true child appear in the place, whence
it had been originally abstracted.[A]
[Footnote A: Less perilous recipes
were sometimes used. The editor is possessed
of a small relique, termed by tradition a toad-stone,
the influence of which was supposed to preserve pregnant
women from the power of daemons, and other dangers
incidental to their situation. It has been carefully
preserved for several generations, was often pledged
for considerable sums of money, and uniformly redeemed,
from a belief in its efficacy.]
The most minute and authenticated
account of an exchanged child is to be found in Waldron’s
Isle of Man, a book from which I have derived
much legendary information. “I was prevailed
upon myself,” says that author, “to go
and see a child, who, they told me, was one of these
changelings, and, indeed, must own, was not a little
surprised, as well as shocked, at the sight.
Nothing under heaven could have a more beautiful face;
but, though between five and six years old, and seemingly
healthy, he was so far from being able to walk or
stand, that he could not so much as move any one joint;
his limbs were vastly long for his age, but smaller
than any infant’s of six months; his complexion
was perfectly delicate, and he had the finest hair
in the world. He never spoke nor cried, ate scarce
any thing, and was very seldom seen to smile; but if
any one called him a fairy-elf, he would frown,
and fix his eyes so earnestly on those who said it,
as if he would look them through. His mother,
or at least his supposed mother, being very poor, frequently
went out a chareing, and left him a whole day together.
The neighbours, out of curiosity, have often looked
in at the window, to see how he behaved while alone;
which, whenever they did, they were sure to find him
laughing, and in the utmost delight. This made
them judge that he was not without company, more pleasing
to him than any mortals could be; and what made this
conjecture seem the more reasonable, was, that if he
were left ever so dirty, the woman, at her return,
saw him with a clean face, and his hair combed with
the utmost exactness and nicety.” P. 128.
Waldron gives another account of a
poor woman, to whose offspring, it would seem, the
Fairies had taken a special fancy. A few nights
after she was delivered of her first child, the family
were alarmed by a dreadful cry of “Fire!”
All flew to the door, while the mother lay trembling
in bed, unable to protect her infant, which was snatched
from the bed by an invisible hand. Fortunately
the return of the gossips, after the causeless alarm,
disturbed the Fairies, who dropped the child, which
was found sprawling and shrieking upon the threshold.
At the good woman’s second accouchement,
a tumult was heard in the cow-house, which drew thither
the whole assistants. They returned, when they
found that all was quiet among the cattle, and lo!
the second child had been carried from the bed, and
dropped in the middle of the lane. But, upon
the third occurrence of the same kind, the company
were again decoyed out of the sick woman’s chamber
by a false alarm, leaving only a nurse, who was detained
by the bonds of sleep. On this last occasion,
the mother plainly saw her child removed, though the
means were invisible. She screamed for assistance
to the nurse; but the old lady had partaken too deeply
of the cordials which circulate on such joyful occasions,
to be easily awakened. In short, the child was
this time fairly carried off, and a withered, deformed
creature, left in its stead, quite naked, with the
clothes of the abstracted infant, rolled in a bundle,
by its side. This creature lived nine years,
ate nothing but a few herbs, and neither spoke, stood,
walked nor performed any other functions of mortality;
resembling, in all respects, the changeling already
mentioned.—WALDRON’S Works, ibid.
But the power of the Fairies was not
confined to unchristened children alone; it was supposed
frequently to extend to full grown persons, especially
such as, in an unlucky hour, were devoted to the devil
by the execration of parents, and of masters;[A] or
those who were found asleep under a rock, or on a
green hill, belonging to the Fairies, after sun-set;
or, finally, to those who unwarily joined their orgies.
A tradition existed, during the seventeenth century,
concerning an ancestor of the noble family of Duffus,
who, “walking abroad in the fields, near to
his own house, was suddenly carried away, and found
the next day at Paris, in the French king’s
cellar, with a silver cup in his hand. Being
brought into the king’s presence, and questioned
by him who he was, and how he came thither, he told
his name, his country, and the place of his residence;
and that, on such a day of the month, which proved
to be the day immediately preceding, being in the fields,
he heard the noise of a whirlwind, and of voices,
crying, ’Horse and Hattock!’ (this
is the word which the Fairies are said to use when
they remove from any place), whereupon he cried, ’Horse
and Hattock’ also, and was immediately caught
up, and transported through the air, by the Fairies,
to that place, where, after he had drunk heartily,
he fell asleep, and, before he woke, the rest of the
company were gone, and had left him in the posture
wherein he was found. It is said the king gave
him the cup, which was found in his hand, and dismissed
him.” The narrator affirms, “that
the cup was still preserved, and known by the name
of the Fairy cup.” He adds, that
Mr Steward, tutor to the then Lord Duffus, had informed
him, “that, when a boy, at the school of Forres,
he, and his school-fellows, were upon a time whipping
their tops in the church-yard, before the door of
the church, when, though the day was calm, they heard
a noise of a wind, and at some distance saw the small
dust begin to rise and turn round, which motion continued
advancing till it came to the place where they were,
whereupon they began to bless themselves; but one
of their number being, it seems, a little more bold
and confident than his companions, said, ’Horse
and Hattock, with my top,’ and immediately
they all saw the top lifted up from the ground, but
could not see which way it was carried, by reason
of a cloud of dust which was raised at the same time.
They sought for the top all about the place where
it was taken up, but in vain; and it was found afterwards
in the church-yard, on the other side of the church.”—This
puerile legend is contained in a letter from a learned
gentleman in Scotland, to Mr Aubrey, dated 15th March,
1695, published in AUBREY’S Miscellanies,
p. 158.
[Footnote A: This idea is not
peculiar to the Gothic tribes, but extends to those
of Sclavic origin. Tooke (History of Russia,
Vol. I. p. 100) relates, that the Russian peasants
believe the nocturnal daemon, Kikimora, to
have been a child, whom the devil stole out of the
womb of its mother, because she had cursed it.
They also assert, that if an execration against a
child be spoken in an evil hour, the child is carried
off by the devil. The beings, so stolen, are neither
fiends nor men; they are invisible, and afraid of
the cross and holy water; but, on the other hand,
in their nature and dispositions they resemble mankind,
whom they love, and rarely injure.]
Notwithstanding the special example
of Lord Duffus, and of the top, it is the common opinion,
that persons, falling under the power of the Fairies,
were only allowed to revisit the haunts of men, after
seven years had expired. At the end of seven years
more, they again disappeared, after which they were
seldom seen among mortals. The accounts they
gave of their situation, differ in some particulars.
Sometimes they were represented as leading a life of
constant restlessness, and wandering by moon-light.
According to others, they inhabited a pleasant region,
where, however, their situation was rendered horrible,
by the sacrifice of one or more individuals to the
devil, every seventh year. This circumstance is
mentioned in Alison Pearson’s indictment, and
in the Tale of the Young Tamlane, where it
is termed, “the paying the kane to hell,”
or, according to some recitations, “the teind,”
or tenth. This is the popular reason assigned
for the desire of the Fairies to abstract young children,
as substitutes for themselves in this dreadful tribute.
Concerning the mode of winning, or recovering, persons
abstracted by the Fairies, tradition differs; but
the popular opinion, contrary to what may be inferred
from the following tale, supposes, that the recovery
must be effected within a year and a day, to be held
legal in the Fairy court. This feat, which was
reckoned an enterprize of equal difficulty and danger,
could only be accomplished on Hallowe’en, at
the great annual procession of the Fairy court.[A]
Of this procession the following description is found
in Montgomery’s Flyting against Polwart,
apud Watson’s Collection of Scots Poems,
1709, Part III. p. 12.
In the hinder end of harvest, on All-hallowe’en,
When our good neighbours
dois ride, if I read right.
Some buckled on a bunewand, and some on
a been,
Ay trottand in tronps from
the twilight;
Some saidled a she-ape, all grathed into
green,
Some hobland on a hemp-stalk,
hovand to the hight;
The king of Pharie and his court, with
the Elf queen,
With many elfish incubus was
ridand that night.
There an elf on an ape, an unsel begat.
Into a pot by Pomathorne;
That bratchart in a busse
was born;
They fand a monster on the
morn,
War faced nor a cat.
[Footnote A: See the inimitable poem of Hallowe’en:—
“Upon that night, when Fairies light
On Cassilis Downan dance;
Or o’er the leas, in splendid blaze,
On stately coursers prance,”
&c. Burns.]
The catastrophe of Tamlane
terminated more successfully than that of other attempts,
which tradition still records. The wife of a farmer
in Lothian had been carried off by the Fairies, and,
during the year of probation, repeatedly appeared
on Sunday, in the midst of her children, combing their
hair. On one of these occasions she was accosted
by her husband; when she related to him the unfortunate
event which had separated them, instructed him by
what means he might win her, and exhorted him to exert
all his courage, since her temporal and eternal happiness
depended on the success of his attempt. The farmer,
who ardently loved his wife, set out on Hallow-e’en
and, in the midst of a plot of furze, waited impatiently
for the procession of the Fairies. At the ringing
of the Fairy bridles, and the wild unearthly sound
which accompanied the cavalcade, his heart failed
him, and he suffered the ghostly train to pass by
without interruption. When the last had rode
past, the whole troop vanished, with loud shouts of
laughter and exultation; among which he plainly discovered
the voice of his wife, lamenting that he had lost
her for ever.
A similar, but real incident, took
place at the town of North Berwick, within the memory
of man. The wife of a man, above the lowest class
of society, being left alone in the house, a few days
after delivery, was attacked and carried off by one
of those convulsion fits, incident to her situation.
Upon the return of the family, who had been engaged
in hay-making, or harvest, they found the corpse much
disfigured. This circumstance, the natural consequence
of her disease, led some of the spectators to think
that she had been carried off by the Fairies, and
that the body before them was some elfin deception.
The husband, probably, paid little attention to this
opinion at the time. The body was interred, and,
after a decent time had elapsed, finding his domestic
affairs absolutely required female superintendence,
the widower paid his addresses to a young woman in
the neighbourhood. The recollection, however,
of his former wife, whom he had tenderly loved, haunted
his slumbers; and, one morning, he came to the clergyman
of the parish in the utmost dismay, declaring, that
she had appeared to him the preceding night, informed
him that she was a captive in Fairy Land, and conjured
him to attempt her deliverance. She directed him
to bring the minister, and certain other persons,
whom she named, to her grave at midnight. Her
body was then to be dug up, and certain prayers recited;
after which the corpse was to become animated, and
fly from them. One of the assistants, the swiftest
runner in the parish, was to pursue the body; and,
if he was able to seize it, before it had thrice encircled
the church, the rest were to come to his assistance,
and detain it, in spite of the struggles it should
use, and the various shapes into which it might be
transformed. The redemption of the abstracted
person was then to become complete. The minister,
a sensible man, argued with his parishioner upon the
indecency and absurdity of what was proposed, and dismissed
him. Next Sunday, the banns being for the first
time proclaimed betwixt the widower and his new bride,
his former wife, very naturally, took the opportunity
of the following night to make him another visit, yet
more terrific than the former. She upbraided
him with his incredulity, his fickleness, and his
want of affection; and, to convince him that her appearance
was no aërial illusion, she gave suck, in his presence,
to her youngest child. The man, under the greatest
horror of mind, had again recourse to the pastor;
and his ghostly counsellor fell upon an admirable
expedient to console him. This was nothing less
than dispensing with the further solemnity of banns,
and marrying him, without an hour’s delay, to
the young woman to whom he was affianced; after which
no spectre again disturbed his repose.
* * *
*
Having concluded these general observations
upon the Fairy superstition, which, although minute,
may not, I hope, be deemed altogether uninteresting,
I proceed to the more particular illustrations, relating
to the Tale of the Young Tamlane.
The following ballad, still popular
in Ettrick Forest, where the scene is laid, is certainly
of much greater antiquity than its phraseology, gradually
modernized as transmitted by tradition, would seem
to denote. The Tale of the Young Tamlane
is mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland;
and the air, to which it was chaunted, seems to have
been accommodated to a particular dance; for the dance
of Thorn of Lynn, another variation of Thomalin,
likewise occurs in the same performance. Like
every popular subject, it seems to have been frequently
parodied; and a burlesque ballad, beginning
“Tom o’ the Linn was a Scotsman
born,”
is still well known.
In a medley, contained in a curious
and ancient MS. cantus, penes J.G. Dalyell,
Esq., there is an allusion to our ballad:—
“Sing young Thomlin, be merry, be
merry, and twice so merry.”
In Scottish Songs, 1774, a
part of the original tale was published, under the
title of Kerton Ha’; a corruption of Carterhaugh;
and, in the same collection, there is a fragment,
containing two or three additional verses, beginning,
“I’ll wager, I’ll wager,
I’ll wager with you,” &c.
In Johnson’s Musical Museum,
a more complete copy occurs, under the title of Thom
Linn, which, with some alterations was reprinted
in the Tales of Wonder.
The present edition is the most perfect
which has yet appeared; being prepared from a collation
of the printed copies, with a very accurate one in
Glenriddell’s MSS., and with several recitals
from tradition. Some verses are omitted in this
edition, being ascertained to belong to a separate
ballad, which will be found in a subsequent part of
the work. In one recital only, the well known
fragment of the Wee, wee Man, was introduced,
in the same measure with the rest of the poem.
It was retained in the first edition, but is now omitted;
as the editor has been favoured, by the learned Mr
Ritson, with a copy of the original poem, of which
it is a detached fragment. The editor has been
enabled to add several verses of beauty and interest
to this edition of Tamlane, in consequence
of a copy, obtained from a gentleman residing near
Langholm, which is said to be very ancient, though
the diction is somewhat of a modern cast. The
manners of the Fairies are detailed at considerable
length, and in poetry of no common merit.
Carterhaugh is a plain, at the conflux
of the Ettrick and Yarrow, in Selkirkshire, about
a mile above Selkirk, and two miles below Newark Castle;
a romantic ruin, which overhangs the Yarrow, and which
is said to have been the habitation of our heroine’s
father, though others place his residence in the tower
of Oakwood. The peasants point out, upon the
plain, those electrical rings, which vulgar credulity
supposes to be traces of the Fairy revels. Here,
they say, were placed the stands of milk, and of water,
in which Tamlane was dipped, in order to effect
the disenchantment; and upon these spots, according
to their mode of expressing themselves, the grass
will never grow. Miles Cross (perhaps a corruption
of Mary’s Cross), where fair Janet waited the
arrival of the Fairy train, is said to have stood
near the duke of Buccleuch’s seat of Bowhill,
about half a mile from Carterhaugh. In no part
of Scotland, indeed, has the belief in Fairies maintained
its ground with more pertinacity than in Selkirkshire.
The most sceptical among the lower ranks only venture
to assert, that their appearances, and mischievous
exploits, have ceased, or at least become infrequent,
since the light of the Gospel was diffused in its
purity. One of their frolics is said to have
happened late in the last century. The victim
of elfin sport was a poor man, who, being employed
in pulling heather upon Peatlaw, a hill not far from
Carterhaugh, had tired of his labour, and laid him
down to sleep upon a Fairy ring.—When he
awakened, he was amazed to find himself in the midst
of a populous city, to which, as well as to the means
of his transportation, he was an utter stranger.
His coat was left upon the Peatlaw; and his bonnet,
which had fallen off in the course of his aërial journey,
was afterwards found hanging upon the steeple of the
church of Lanark. The distress of the poor man
was, in some degree, relieved, by meeting a carrier,
whom he had formerly known, and who conducted him
back to Selkirk, by a slower conveyance than had whirled
him to Glasgow.—That he had been carried
off by the Fairies, was implicitly believed by all,
who did not reflect, that a man may have private reasons
for leaving his own country, and for disguising his
having intentionally done so.