Arthur John Black, The fairies’ whirl
As I’ve described before, fairies traditionally travel in whirlwinds. This mode of travel can act partly as a cover for human abductions and partly as a form of concealment. It appears to have been considered essentially faery, so much so that the magic necessary to achieve it might even be imparted to whoever or whatever is carried along in the fairy eddy: for example, a farmer living on the island of Tiree saw one of his sheep being whirled up into the sky by a gust of wind. He was so certain that the fairies had done this that, when the sheep came to be slaughtered, he refused to eat any of its meat- plainly because he considered it tainted in some manner.
We know, too, that one of the fairies’ favourite and most distinctive pastimes is their circle dancing. It follows, therefore, that there are some grounds for arguing that a spinning motion may be inherent in fairy movement. There is more explicit evidence that this may be the case.
Some older evidence
My earliest example is from mid-Wales in 1862. Two carters, David Evans and Evan Lewis, were travelling from Brecon to New Quay in Ceredigion with wagon-loads of timber. At Maestwynog, one August afternoon, they saw some small people climbing to the top of a distant hill. There they danced in a circle for a while, but then began to spiral into the centre, “like a gimblet screw.” Then, successively, the figures disappeared into the ground. The dancing beforehand reinforces the sense that circular motion may be especially fay, but this sighting takes the matter further.
A changeling child who had been exposed at Sorbie in Galloway was put in a basket over the cottage fire to drive it away and retrieve the human baby that the fairies had taken. The changeling shrieked and cursed and spat- and then spiralled up through the smoke hole in the roof “like a corkscrew.”
In Victorian times, two men were out walking one night on the Isle of Man when they saw the figure of a woman dressed all in white standing in the angle of the wall just opposite a church gate. When one of the two man went across to speak to her she took him by the arm and spun him round and round till he was dizzy, and then let go of him so suddenly that he nearly fell down on the road. The marks of her fingers remained on his arm up to the day of his death as dark imprints on the biceps. In another Manx example, a very troublesome buggane was described as “whirling like a spinning wheel” on top of a mountain. He then came to meet an old woman who had expressed the opinion that he ought to be chastened for his many pranks “whirring like a spinning wheel.” [‘Old Nance and the Buggane’- see http://www.feegan.com]
Much more recent sightings suggest that this corkscrew motion was not unusual. A woman from Monmouthshire twice saw fairies- in 1945 and 1949- and each time they appeared to her as a whirling shape before the individual fairy was visible. The fays have also been seen to “spin round and round at a tremendous speed, and then vanish at the peak.” Some others did the same “spiralling upwards with a sound like the soughing of the wind.” The spinning motion can be imparted to objects they’re standing on too (such as a bowl of tulips). [Marjorie Johnson, Seeing Fairies, pp.47, 106, 155, 212 & 297]
The more traditional whirlwinds are still seen too, out on country roads but also in modern urban environments. An art school student from North Carolina saw a figure inside a tiny vortex only one foot high and a factory security guard saw them in dust devils as a child. [Seeing fairies, p. 229 and Fairy Census numbers 346 & 419]
In previous posts I’ve addressed the question of how fairies move about: do they rely upon magic, for instance, or do they use their own forms of transport? The few cases discussed here open up some intriguing new avenues for investigation. Other examples of spinning motion have probably been recorded; perhaps readers know of others?
Grace Jones, The fairy dance, c.1920