Lapwings, Moles & Cats: More Ways to Gain Faery Second Sight?

Second Sight by Katherine Rose Barber, kitttykat on DeviantArt

Second sight- the ability to see the faeries, often by penetrating their glamour– can be acquired in a number of ways. Some people (most notably children, as in Katherine Barber’s charming picture above)- and some species of animals– are born with it; otherwise it may be obtained by artificial means, sometimes by accident, sometimes deliberately and after considerable effort.

Probably the earliest account of gaining second sight was written by the English lawyer, statesman and author, Gervase of Tilbury (1150-1220), in a Latin text, Otia Imperialia, that he wrote on the continent in the early thirteenth century. Gervase’s huge volume contains many snippets of faerylore, including a story from Brittany. He describes how a local woman once fell into a river and was captured by the water sprites inhabiting it, the ‘dracs.’ She spent sometime living with them and one day was given an eel pasty to eat. The grease from this got onto her fingers and, when she rubbed an itch on her eye, transferred to her the ability to see the supernatural world around her. This unintended acquisition of the second sight is especially memorable because of the nature of its transmission. Not uncommonly, it’s nurses and midwives who give themselves the power whilst washing faery infants, meaning that there’s a direct connection from the baby to the bath water to the human. In Gervase’s story, the magic vision travelled via the cooking process, far more indirect and far less predictable. Whatever else it tells us, this story indicates that the ability to see through glamour is a powerful magical property that needs to be handled by the possessor with care and which is hard to destroy.

The typical method of conveying second sight we find in the sources involves a midwife who touches her eye after applying a special ointment to a faery babe- as I’ve described before. In these cases, the magic obviously resides in the cream and it’s plainly something that the faery parents have deliberately made for the purpose of treating their own offspring. It seems to follow that we humans, with sufficient time, trouble and the correct ingredients and procedure, ought to be able to copy what the faeries did. Plenty of people have reached this conclusion in the past and have manufactured substances which they have claimed to be effective.

Generally these ointments for seeing (and for summoning) faeries involve herbal ingredients, plus some ritual elements in the preparation, as I have set out in an earlier posting. The Grimoire of Arthur Gauntlet, which dates to about 1620-30, contains a fascinating procedure for making ointment so that faeries may be summoned and seen:

“To have Conference with the Fairies in the House where those use when you intend to work be the last up. The night before the
new or full of the Moon then sweep the Hearth very clean and set a bucket of fair water on the Hearth so go to bed. And be you the
first that shall come down the next Morning And you shall see as it were a fat or Jelly upon the water. Take it forth with a Silver Spoon and put it into A Silver or Tin vessel and so keep it [until it is required].”

Grimoire 288-289

A very similar procedure is set out in another manuscript, the Bodleian Library’s e Mus 173, which I have also mentioned before; both are preliminaries to attracting faeries to speak to you by means of laying out a meal of wine and ale. In her comments on the fat, jelly or rime that is collected from the surface of the water the next morning, faery expert Katherine Briggs was in no doubt that the substance came from the faeries washing their babies in the bucket during the night (see, for example, her Anatomy of Puck, 1957, 255).

Using the scum left from faery bathing is one thing; however, one procedure that’s included in a manuscript of about 1580 held by the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington DC and which is also in Arthur Gauntlet’s Grimoire is rather more gruesome.

“To have Conference with familiar Spirits Do as followeth: In the day and hour of ? take a white owlet and kill it under the right wing Saying these words ‘Fuua Handa Musdali faon dyiaga Samiel Rostalagath.’ This fowl I do kill in the name of you all Commanding you by the name Rufangoll, your Superior, by whom you do all secrets in Earth amongst men. And by Hemeolon your prince I adjure you that you do your humble obedience unto me AB at all times henceforth and with your power unknown give virtue and strength to this my purpose constraining all inferiors under you to serve me at all times days hours and minutes And at all times and in all places without hurting of me my body or Soul or any other living Creature.’ Then reserve his blood in a Clean vessel, and of his fat in another clean vessel.”

A lapwing, a black hen, a black cat, a ‘want’ or ‘moldwarp’ (i.e. a mole), a bat and a raven follow, all of them stabbed on the right side of their bodies with similar charms spoken. Then, the conjurer must:

“Take the fat of all these aforesaid fowls and beasts of each of them vii drachms, mix all well together with a slice of Bay tree upon the palm of thy hand clean washed with Rose water. Saying in the tempering of them these vii words ‘Julia Hodelsa Inafula
Sedamylia Roauia Sagamex Delforia, Inferiors and servants to the Empress and Princess of all fairies Sibyls and all amiable creatures delighting in the company of human people Lady Delforia as you be present amongst men invisible at all times as soon as I shall anoint my eyes with this ointment And that you be as familiar with me as you were with King Solomon that mighty prince And as you were with Prince Arthur that valiant prince And as you opened and showed to king Solomon the hidden natures and properties and virtues of Metals precious Stones Trees and Herbs and the secrets of all Sciences underneath Heaven Even so I command require and adjure you, Julia, Hodelsa, Inafula, Sedamylia, Roauia, Sagamex, with Delforia the Empress of all the Fairies to do the like to me at all times without disdainfulness by their names whereby I do bind you Gath vasagath ulagar Jeramilia Reboracath Regath Segath even as you fear the just judgement of Readufan upon pain of Hellfire and everlasting damnation.’ This is done at the [conjunction] of the C in the hour of ? [then] put the ointment in a vessel into the midst of the Fairy Throne. But first take ii or iii drachms of each blood And write these vii names in virgin parchment: ‘Julia Hodelsa Inafula Sedamylia Roauia Sagamex and Delforia.’ All these names must be written vii times. Three times with a pen made of the third feather of the lapwing of the left wing. And iiii times with the feather pen of a Raven made of the fourth feather of the Right wing… Then lap it about the vessel and seal it fast with virgin wax repeating these vii names- Julia Hodelsa Inafula Sedamylia Roauia Sagamex and Delforia– in sealing of it.”

Folger MS V.b.26(l), pages 138-40; Grimoire, 290-295

A special copper seal has to be made for the container, as well. The item is buried on the ‘fairy throne’ with regular incantations said over it subsequently three times a day for three days. After this, the container is dug up and is stored in a dark place for three days and afterwards in the sun for six. At the end of this process, this unpleasant mixture may be expected to have coagulated into an ointment which , the manuscript tells us is an “oyle which is pretiouse moste rare & excellent of all others.” This oil can then be employed to summon the faeries- although this is still only after the proper preparations have been made and with the necessary charms being recited.

The ‘faery throne,’ as I’ve described before, appears to denote a faery hillock, suggesting that burial of the container near to where the faeries are currently living helps pass on magical properties. Personally, though, there’s nothing I’d less want to smear on my eyes that the putrid grease of seven hapless birds and mammals, but maybe I’m just not dedicated enough.

I know that hens have been sacrificed as part of charms to expel changelings, whilst earth from a molehill appears a few times in the folklore as a way of barring the passage of faeries. Graveyard earth is used the same manner; coming from consecrated ground, this makes some sense, whereas earth thrown up by moles is more puzzling: perhaps it’s something to do with them living both above and below ground, between dimensions? As for the lapwing, according to this same document, there is a bone in the bird’s wing which has magical properties and will attract spirits. A couple of recipes using lapwings alone are provided; one is to produce the “the oyle of the Collericke” which enables a person to see faeries:

“To have the sight of spirrits, take a lapwhinge- 2 or 3- & kill theme & save the bloode in a vessell that is very close, & soe keepe it 10 or 12 dayes that noe ayer come in nor goe out, & at the end of the same dayes itt will be turned into wormes, & within other 10 or 12 dayes it will be turned into one worme; then make past[e] of wallnutes or almonds beate smale etc & put the worme therein, & cover it close with a cover of the same stuffe, & looke that there be rome inoughe for it to encrease therin & let it lye therein other 10 or 12 dayes or more if need bee & then that worme will be tourned into a lapwhinge, Note: you maye looke unto it after 10 daies, nowe if it be not fully growen, to a lapwhinge againe, nowe when the same is ready in proportion, then take hir out, & let hir blood under the right winge, & save the bloode as is before sayed, & when thou wilt see the spirits annoynte thy eyes with the blood & looke forthe at the east windowe etc, or eastwarde, & south thou shalt see the spirits of the ayere of which thou mayest call one… Note: in March Aprill Maye June & July, the wether beinge fayre & warme, is beste worckinge this worcke of the lapwhinge…”

Folger MS V.b.26(l)

A second lapwing recipe enables a person to discover the ‘secretness of secrets hidden.’ It again involves collecting the blood from a lapwing, but this time after nine days (when it’s turned to worms- presumably maggots) you mix them into a paste with dates, almonds, figs and walnuts and leave the result to sit for ninety days. At the end of this time, believe it or not, you shall find that you have “a chicken, in the likenes of a lapwinge…” Despite this miraculous transformation, the instruction is to “slea it & put it one a spitte & roaste it, & make the fier with date stones & shells of wallnutts, & as it rosteth keepe the greace that droppeth therfrom, & when you will worcke anie worcke of philosophie.” Having collected this grease, the magician is instructed, when required, to:

“Annointe thy face, & thy eyes with the greace & you shall see spirrits face to face, what they doo, & they shall not be able to hyede theire doeinges from you, & they shall seame to you as though they were men, & your fellowes, & you shall heare them, & speake with them, & aske of them what you will & they shall tell you, & they shall hide nothinge from your presence, & you
neade not to be affrayed of them… Nowe, when you will noe longer see them washe your eyes & face with water that swallowes were sodden in…”

MS V.b.26 142-143

This again seems to me a cruel ritual and a waste of good fruit and nuts, but I obviously lack the essential determination to see and control a faery. A marginally less disgusting recipe (but still one that’s definitely not for me) is found earlier in the same manuscript. The obscurity and rarity of some of the ingredients is another big issue:

“To see spirrits etc. Take the herbe Serpillum [thyme], Sicorda [possibly succory or chicory], garmene [perhaps geranium or germander?] & the tree that swymmeth which is saied Arbor Cancri [the crab tree, possibly, though this doesn’t explain why it swims], & Malie [apple, malus?] with rore madii [dew?] & with the tree that sheweth by night called herba lucens [the shining herb], & with thes make an oyntment & put therto the eyene of a whelpe & the fate of a harte [deer fat] & annoint thy selfe & it will make open the Ayere unto thee, that thou mayest see spirrits in the clouds of the heavens,& all soe ther by thou maiest goe shurely whither thou wilt in one houre.”

As will have become apparent, blood- and ‘faery thrones’- can be a regular part of these conjurings. Here’s a spell to oblige a faery (specifically, one called Margaret Barrance) to appear in front of you, which is found in a manuscript in the Bodleian Library in Oxford (Ashmole MS 1406):

“First, take a broad square crystal or Venetian glass [mirror], about three inches in breadth and length. Lay it in the blood of a white hen on three Wednesdays or three Fridays. Then take it and wash it with holy water and fumigate it. Then take three hazel sticks a year old; take the bark off them; make them long enough to write on them the name of the fairy or spirit whom you may desire three times on each stick, which must be flat on one side. Bury them under some hill haunted by fairies on the Wednesday before you call her; and on the Friday following dig them out, and call her at eight, or three, or ten o’clock, which are good times for this purpose. In order to do so successfully one must be pure, and face toward the East. When you get her, tie her to the glass.”

James Halliwell-Phillipps, Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of a Midsummer Night’s Dream, 1844, 62

Whether any reader has the courage, patience – and stomach- to try some of these, I will leave to your personal discretion. You’ll note the complex procedures and the preparations that have to be made. Certain acts must be repeated a magical number of times; the magician must be pure (having fasted, washed and abstained from ‘impure’ activities preliminary to attempting the summoning) and s/he must face the east. This orientation has both Christian and astronomical connotations, but readers might also recall that it is of significance in faery matters (at least in Scotland) for the ‘dangerous’ direction in the Highlands was considered to be the west, from which the sith and the sluagh will make their hostile approaches. Perhaps facing the other way helps to guard the officiant against such malign attacks.

All in all, given the technical complexity of some of these recipes and rituals, and the risks they involve, my inclination is very much to allow the faeries to make the choice as to whether they want to appear or not, rather than trying to force them magically against their wills.

In addition, as I’ve implied before in other posts, I approach these spells with a good deal of scepticism. They are imports of a non-native and learned magical tradition into British faerylore, using classical and eastern practices to seek to conjure a faery presence and cooperation. The mixing in of Latin and ?nonsense word charms indicate their ‘alien’ nature- and I’ve always been highly suspicious of those faery names. That said, some of the spells in the manuscripts are marked probandum, proved (i.e. in practice) which might give greater confidence in them. Whatever their efficacy though, they are now a part of the British faery customs and, whilst they may not tell us that much about elves and faes, they are highly informative about the human approach to them.

The Witch of Endor, William Blake

NB NO LAPWINGS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS BLOG

Faery Hats- power and style

In a previous post, I discussed some of the magical aspects of headwear in Faery. I’m returning to the subject now, with a slightly wider perspective on faeries and their hats.

It’s a common perception today that faeries are likely to be seen wearing hats- and often peculiar looking ones at that. I’ll come to this in more detail shortly, but in preparing this posting I went back to some of the older sources of information to see what they had to say on the subject. It was certainly accepted in previous centuries that the fae would be seen in some kind of hat, cap or bonnet, but that was a great deal less remarkable to people given that headwear was the norm. You’re far less likely to say “oh, he was wearing a hat” if absolutely everyone in your world has their head covered. The result is that some of the statements are fairly prosaic. For example, one Welsh woman who spoke to Evans Wentz said that the tylwyth teg had been seen around the Pentre Ifan cromlech in Ceredigion and that they were small, like children, and wearing red caps (Fairy Faith, 155). Likewise, in McGregor’s Peat Fire Flame there are reports of sith folk from the Highlands in “green broad rimmed hats” or a “red bonnet” (pages 14 & 78); the faeries whose departure from this Middle Earth was seen in Hugh Miller’s Old Red Sandstone sported red caps, and Wirt Sikes mentioned other members of the tylwyth teg in red caps with feathers or “red tripled caps” (British Goblins, 83 & 132). The latter is interesting because of the apparent elaborateness of the items; I’m not sure exactly what’s implied here, but evidently we’re dealing with something that’s a bit unusual when contrasted to day to day human head gear. There’s also a mention of a faery in a cap of gorse blossom (pages 79 & 81); I can’t help but suspect some romanticising influence here, part of the Victorian trend to miniaturise and prettify faery-kind.

In Superstitions of the Highlands & Islands of Scotland, by John Gregorson Campbell, we have some very interesting statements of sith headwear- under the heading ‘Fairy Dresses’ he tells the reader that:

“The Fairies, both Celtic and Teutonic, are dressed in green. In Skye, however, though Fairy women, as elsewhere, are always dressed in that colour, the men wear clothes of any colour like their human neighbours. They are frequently called daoine beaga ruadh, “little red men,” from their clothes having the appearance of being dyed with the lichen called crotal, a common colour of men’s clothes, in the North Hebrides. The coats of Fairy women are shaggy, or ruffled (caiteineach), and their caps curiously fitted or wrinkled. The men are said, but not commonly, to have blue bonnets, and in the song to the murdered Elfin lover, the Elf is said to have a hat bearing ‘a smell of honied apples.’ This is perhaps the only Highland instance of a hat, which is a prominent object in the Teutonic superstition, being ascribed to the Fairies.”

Superstitions (1900), 14

Campbell highlights the notable ‘fanciness’ of the female faes caps, connecting us to those tripled caps in Wales. His mention of the scented hat is fascinating- as well as being unique. He suggests that headwear is unusual in the Highlands, but McGregor has already contradicted this and, in fact, Campbell goes on to do so himself later, when he describes a rather odd faery girl who calls at a human house near to Kinloch Teagus:

“The stranger was dressed in green, and wore a cap bearing the appearance of the king’s hood of a sheep (currachd an righ caorach). The housewife said the family were at the shielings with the cattle, and there was no food in the house; there was not even a drink of milk. The visitor then asked to be allowed to make brose [porridge] of the dye, and received permission to do what she liked with it. She was asked where she stayed, and she said, ‘in this same neighbourhood.’ She drank off the compost [compote], rushed away, throwing three somersaults, and disappeared.”

Superstitions, 103

This sith lass is remarkable for several reasons: for her gymnastics, her taste for soup made of clothes’ dye- and her hat. The description compares it to the bags made from the second stomach of a sheep; in other words, it appears to be made of leather and is (I’m inferring) quite close-fitting.

Lastly, a few lines from the play Fuimus Troes by Jasper Fisher (1633):

“Fairies small,
Two foot tall,
With caps red
On their head,
Danse around
On the ground.”

Fuimus Troes, act 1 scene 5

Thomas Keightley remarked in his Fairy Mythology (page 342) that this was the earliest mention of this distinctive faery item of clothing that he had found.

So far, so good. On the whole, I think we can say that the faeries were known to wear hats, just like everyone else did, and these were by and large just like everyone else’s- if, perhaps, a little old fashioned, as in the “high crowned hats” being worn by the crowd at the faery market on the Blackdown Hills in Somerset. The colours (red and green) may have been distinctively fae, and a few were a bit fancy, but that was it. Only subsequently, going into the twentieth century, did artists, and (as a result) the public, expect to see something more elaborate and unusual.

I’ve analysed the more modern reports of faery headgear from a variety of sources: Seeing Fairies by Marjorie Johnson, the fairy Census, Janet Bord’s Fairies, and the post-war writings of Conan Doyle and Geoffrey Hodson. This gives us, altogether, nearly five hundred cases to consider. Amongst the cases excluding the Census, hats were worn in about 30% of the encounters. They were typically red or green and over a third of these caps were described as ‘pointed’ or perhaps ‘conical.’ The much more recent Census reported far fewer hat wearing faes (only about 6% of the total) but once again, where headgear was worn, in about a third of cases it was pointy.

What seems to emerge is a perception, or expectation, that faeries will appear dressed in ‘gnome’ hats. As I’ve said, my suspicion is that this is a product of the work of artists like John Anster Fitzgerald, Arthur Rackham and Heath Robinson (see above), and as such has its roots in artistic conventions rather than in folklore.

This isn’t to dismiss hats as fantasy, though. The faeries wore them at a time when this was the norm, but their choice of headwear wasn’t purely utilitarian- just to keep the head warm and dry. As I’ve described before, hats have a much more important, magical function in faery society. Professor John Rhys described the cap that a mermaid needed to live beneath the surface of the sea (Celtic Folklore, vol.1, 118 & 124); Wirt Sikes referred, rather more figuratively I think, to the cap of oblivion or invisibility that fell upon a human taken into a dance within a faery ring (British Goblins, 70 & 83). Nevertheless, such items of headwear are known to British tradition: a story from Annandale in lowland Scotland tells of a man who was invited to a faery wedding. He was given a cap to wear during the wedding feast and found himself surrounded by people dressed in green- until he took the hat off, at which point he was instantly alone in his own barn. Conversely, it’s said in the North Riding of Yorkshire that the faeries have retreated up the dales away from human habitation. They will return from time to time to dance in their old gathering places, but they are never seen unless they take their caps off…

A story from the Ochill Hills describes how the faeries were able to put on a magic cap and then fly through the air; human children holding the faeries’ hands would be able to travel with them. An account from Arisaig, near Lochaber, relates how a cap received by a woman from the local faeries could cure illnesses if worn by the patient. Most intriguingly, Campbell recorded how the water horse of the Scottish Highlands, the each uisge, could be subdued and controlled using either a shackle around its neck or a cap on its head (Superstitions, 204 & 207). Evidently, therefore, magical headgear can be used by faeries and against faeries.

I’ll conclude with three further Scottish examples. The first is from Skye and concerns the deadly power over a man that the possessor of his bonnet may have. The hag known as the Cailleach a’ Chrathaich would steal a man’s bonnet and then wear a hole in it so as to kill him (I’ve mentioned this before in respect of both hags and bauchans). Bonnets, however, could have powers that might be turned against the faeries. In Teviotdale in the Lowlands, there were wise women (called “skilly auld wives’ in the vicinity) who could advise on defences against assaults by the faeries. A mother with her newborn child might, for instance, be protected against abduction by having her husband’s blue bonnet with her at all times. A sickly cow could be cured by striking it with a blue bonnet. The exact significance of it being blue is a mystery to me: although it might be noted that blue was a very rare colour amongst the hats and caps worn by faeries, according to the records.

Lastly, a renowned way of recovering an item or person from the faeries was to throw your bonnet towards them and to declare “This is yours, that’s mine” (‘Is leatsa so, is leamsa sin‘ in Gaelic). If this is done, the faeries have no choice but to make the exchange (see examples in Keightley 392 or Campbell 25). As Campbell says, a knife or mole-hill earth may also be used, but these are all magical substances in the fae universe. The power of the bonnet may have something to do with its wider symbolism of power and authority.

‘Albion’: discovering the faery realm of Britain

William Blake, The Emanation of the Giant Albion

“All things begin and in in Albion’s Ancient, Druid, Rocky Shore” (William Blake)

Albion is an archaic name for Britain, favoured by poet William Blake and others of a similarly literary, mystical or antiquarian taste.  It is such an ancient name that its origins are a little uncertain.  Many scholars believe that the word derives from a root related to the Gaulish albio, meaning ‘the world,’ or, more literally, the ‘land above ground in the light.’  In a related sense, therefore, it gave rise to Latin albus, ‘white,’ as in ‘albumen’ (egg-white) or ‘album.’  The word also is the source of Alp, as in the mountain range; one sense of this name seems to be the ‘white mountains covered in snow, the peaks illuminated by the sun.’

In Britain languages related to Gaulish, Welsh and Gaelic, produced similar words.  In Gaelic, alp meant a height or eminence, giving rise to albainn (hilly land) and thence to the modern Gaelic for Scotland, Alba.  It’s often presumed that Albion is derived from this.  Meanwhile, in Welsh alp denotes a craggy rock or eminence.  Another derivative of that original albio was the Old Welsh elbid, modern Welsh elfydd, the primary meaning of which is world, land or region.  In England we have a trace of this word in the West Yorkshire placename, Sherburn in Elmet, the last vestige of a native British polity called Elfed that survived several centuries within the Anglian kingdom of Deira (Northumbria).

To summarise at this point, then, Albion carries the meaning of both ‘mountains’ and ‘white.’  Accordingly, therefore, some have argued that Britain was called Albion because of the distinctive white cliffs of Dover.  This seems to me to be a very parochial, southeast of England interpretation, which assumes that all invaders or travellers arrived on either the Calais to Dover or Dieppe to Newhaven ferries (or their prehistoric equivalents, at least!).  I have to say I think that the appearance of fifty miles or so of Kent and Sussex limestone coastline is a weak basis for naming a whole island.  Consider, for example, all the people who didn’t arrive that way: Julius Caesar landed between Walmer and Pegwell Bay in Kent, where the coastline is very low and marshy; the Angles and the Vikings didn’t enter Britain in the south east at all and, lastly, William the Conqueror and the Normans arrived at Pevensey, once again well away from any cliffs.  Secondly, if Albion instead denotes snowy mountains rather than chalky cliffs, would you really name the whole of Britain after landscape features of Wales in the far west or the far north of the Scottish Highlands?  I can readily accept this idea in relation to Alba/ Scotland, but it seems more improbable as a suitable label for the entire country.  In short, therefore- is there another explanation?

Faery Names

At this point, let me apparently diverge from our subject.  As some readers will have noticed, both Gaelic and Welsh lack words equivalent to English ‘faery’ and ‘elf.’  Instead, euphemisms are employed; the sith of Gaelic means either ‘the people of peace’ or, more likely, ‘the people of the hills.’  Welsh too, as I recently described, is full of circumlocutions to describe the fae folk, the least of which seems to be ellyll, which is a word related to arall (other) and having the sense of ‘one of the others.’ This seems to be a perfect acknowledgment of the faery presence living alongside- or in parallel to- the human community. 

This is the present linguistic situation- and perhaps it was the case a millennium ago as well.  In fact, the previously mentioned Welsh word elfydd, derived from albio, has several meanings.  William Owen Pughe’s 1832 Dictionary of the Welsh Language states that, as well as ‘country,’ elfydd can mean ‘elf’ and ‘element’ (we might even be inclined to read ‘elemental’).  It can also signify a person who is your peer or is similar to you. 

We should also consider the source of the English word ‘elf,’ Anglo-Saxon aelf, Old High German alb or alp.  In 1828 Thomas Keightley stated in the Fairy Mythology that “of the origin of the word alf, nothing satisfactory is to be found.  Some think it is akin to Latin albus, white; others to Alpes, alps, mountains” (p.65). 

One hundred and fifty years after Keightley, the linguist Julius Pokorny recognised the doubts still extant as to the correct derivation of Albion and ‘alps;’ thus, did the Welsh elfydd denote a sunlit land or chalk cliffs, and did any of these names derive from ‘white’ or perhaps from a much older non-Indo-European term?  There was more certainty, though, that German alb (elf) could be traced back to an older Indo-European albhos, ‘white’ or ‘glittering,’ which is suggestive perhaps of a white and insubstantial or nebulous figure (the typical pale ghost perhaps).  A connection has also been proposed with a Sanskrit word rbhu, which means ‘ingenious’ (interestingly, one Welsh euphemism for ‘the others’ was elod, the ‘intelligences’).  Pokorny also pointed out the Latin albus (white) could also include the sense of ‘fortunate,’ which makes me think again of all those flattering euphemisms, especially bendith ei mamau (their mothers’ blessings).  The cross-over and confusion with the words relating to hills will be obvious.

Faery Albion

All these linguistic links are fascinating but, ultimately (most particularly for those of us who aren’t specialists in Indo-European philology) frustratingly inconclusive. So (at the risk of going all Robert Graves on you) here’s my proposal that tries to cut through the doubt: Albion is, in fact, the ‘Land of the Elves.’  It is the land of those beings who are like us (and yet other), who are often white of skin, hair and eyes, or of dress, as in many Welsh sources, or like the many ‘White Ladies’ of wider British tradition.  Equally, Albion might be regarded as the land of those who dwell inside the hills- the ‘alp-folk’ if you like.  I’ve argued before for the role of the faeries as the soul of Britain and the spirit of its land; this present proposal merely complements that perception. Albion is the ancient name that states, explicitly, this is the faes’ own realm.

This vision of Albion is- of course- far from unique. Many artists have shared it in the past and it is still alive and meaningful today: see, for example, Peter Knight and Sue Wallace’s book Albion Dreamtime- Re-enchanting the Isle of Dragons (2019) or Ruth Thomas’ Albion Imperilled- A Fairy-tale for Grownups (2019).

The Fabric of Folklore podcast

Fairy Secrets by Margaret Tarrant

A little while ago, I recorded an hour long interview with Vanessa Rogers of the Fabric of Folklore podcast; you can now access our wide-ranging conversation about British faeries on YouTube.

Sadly, my elderly laptop’s camera seemed to malfunction on and off during the chat, so you see a lot of Vanessa and just a publicity shot of me that I had done for the release of Faery by Llewellyn Worldwide. Oh well- the content’s the thing! Listen to the content- and think of the picture by Margaret Tarrant, perhaps!

‘Elves, Nymphs and Fairie Folk’- A Stuart View of the Faeries

Elizabethan dancing at Buckland Abbey (photo by Barry Colley)

The following excerpt, ‘Of Fairies’, comes from a manuscript at the Bodleian Library (catalogue number Douce 116), which is part of a collection left to the library by Francis Douce (1757-1834), an antiquary and former Keeper of Manuscripts at the British Museum. The document appears to date to the seventeenth century, but not much more than that is known about it.

The original text of the Douce manuscript was published with a commentary by Dan Harms in the journal Folklore– volume 129(2) of 2018. Many blog readers won’t have a subscription to Folklore or any access to the piece; even if they do, the Stuart period English of the document can be hard going for those not used to reading texts written in this period. I have therefore edited the language, punctuation and the layout of the passage to make it clearer and more accessible for readers.

Of Fairies

“But to come to the purpose concerning those Creatures, which the common people lyke, thus- of what nature and condition they be, and also what qualities they have, hereupon shall appear. Therefore know this, that first they were created [like] all things by God and, having once sinned with the prince of pride, both he and they were cast down to the earth. The chief Captain [i.e. Lucifer] went before and they followed but, as it seems that their fault is not as great as that of the rest, [their] punishment is [accordingly] the less. [What this last comment relates to is the fact that the faeries are not in Hell, with the other fallen angels, but are trapped part way between heaven and hell, on earth.]

Truly they are spirits and not such as some men and women imagined them to bee, who thought them to be some kind of people, which live here on earth, who are begotten and born one of another, and eat and drink as we doe, and when they die are buried in the earth as we are. [This paragraph tackles the issue of the corporeality of faeries, and the question as to whether they have physical bodies like our own. I’ve discussed this debate in other posts- the author of the passage regards them as purely spiritual whereas many people of the time felt them to be flesh and blood like us mortals. As I’ve described, their consumption of human food and drink and their ability to interbreed with humankind would tend to support such a view.]

Now surely these people are much deceaved in them, who call them by the name fairie-folk, which live in an isle or country of themselves having a King and Queen to governe them, who are amongst us many times invisible, and steal meat from the Butcher’s, bread from the Baker’s, which [goods] through their policy [their guile or glamour] cannot be missed, and that fairy women have been delivered of children in men’s houses, which all indeed are but meer illusions, deceptions, [and] devices.

They say they can enrich a man whom they affect [to like] and have power to hurt and kill whosoever displeaseth them. For which [purpose people would come] into any place where they thought fairies used to be, [such] as gardens, meadows, where green rings of grasse were [and] many green traces are to be seen, which they call the ‘fairie-bord,’ then they used to say these words: “With your leave, or with your leave fair lady’s [leave], give me leave safe to goe, and safe to come.”

Much more you may perceive when they still put in this prayer, which is to be said nine times together with the measure of the staff as aforesaid for the health and help of them that are struck therewith [i.e prayers for those that have been physically blasted by the faeries- that have suffered a ‘stroke’]:

“If the ‘fairy-fall’ have stroken X, Almighty God bless him, now faire be they, and foule be we, and that Father’s & Mother’s blessing be with them, and the sweet King of fairies lead them, and the Queen of fairies feed them, I leave (or lay) the same both more or lesse with all the virtues of the Masse, now God the father, God the sonne, and God the holy Ghost, three persons & one
true God in trinity take this same grief and disease away from thee X. Amen, for sweet St. Charity.”

Further understand [that there are] four kind of fairies: the white which are aery and have sometime power to make men sickly and unhealthfull, yet nevertheless with them is little hurt to us. The black are terrestrial and very malignant and deadly, for [those] who are stroken with them doe never recover; this kind seldom or never shew themselves about the earth. The red fairies are not so evill, yet they have power to hurt & kill, whosoever they strike is hardly cured [i.e. it’s done with great difficulty], & that [only after] great paines by the help of God. They [the red faeries] have been seen wandering up and down in severall places, but always very sadly without any myrth. The green fairies doe commonly frequent houses, gardens, green meadows and such places, having power to doe good and evill to men or women [such] as to enrich or to impoverish, [or] to hurt those offending them, but not so much as the former [i.e.- they don’t do as much injury as the red faeries], [for] who are stroken of these [green faeries] by God’s grace [and] being taken in time are ever curable.

Finally these fairies which some call Elves or nymphs are clean spirits desiring to be in houses, or elsewhere, that are kept with cleanly people. To such they give Gifts of rewards which in respect of them brush, sweep, and garnish their roomes, setting faire and fresh water in place with faire fyer light. Many times, they leave them money which they find on the hearth of the chimney, or in their shoes or other places, as it hath been reported. They are very familiar with whom they shew themselves to, and very desirous of their company, filling their ear with rare musick, they are to shew themselves with sweet and mild behaviour, with Dances, much myrth, their stature like little children most beautified and faire, using many illusions.

Further, a certain friend of mine, who in his youth was much conversant with them, and beloved of them, signified unto me as farre as I could perceive, that their stature was about 5 quarters high. [A quarter is an archaic measurement: it was made up of 4 nails, a nail being two and a quarter inches. A quarter was therefore nine inches, making the fairy height about 45 inches or 112.5 centimetres; in other words, about as tall as a small child, a description very much in line with much British tradition].

He said they were a people living on the earth, [but] invisible as he supposed. I asked if they were of flesh and blood and bone, as we are, [and] he said noe. Then I asked they did eat such meat and drink such drink as we doe, he said noe, but that they eat some kind of food. From this I conclude they were spirits, but he would often say, God save us and feare fall them. I asked if he were afraid of them [and] he answered no; then I reply’d, why say you so- because, quoth he, we are not to talk of them.

Thus you may partly perceave their qualities, what they be and how some are deluded [by them]. To be brief, those which are are stroken, say a prayer to help them thus: “In nomine Patris et filii et Spiritus sancti, Amen. I ask health of body and of limbe for X,” the which prayer you shall find hereafter in this book.

Also, if any one be hurt in leg, foot, or arme, then first make the sign of the Crosse on the ground, with your hand, saying ‘In nomine Patris et filii et Spiritus sancti, Amen.’ Then, againe, the same on the sore and grieved place, say as followeth, stroking the griefe still downwards often with your right hand ‘In the name of the father, & of the son, and of the holy Ghost, from the ground thou cam’st and to the ground thou shalt vanish in God’s name.’ Doe so often and apply on the place a Plaster or poultice made with pure oatmeal, sheep’s suet, sage and red cow’s milk, and the party shall be whole by God’s help shortly.”

Commentary

This is a fascinating document for several reasons:

1. We have the reference to their origins as fallen angels;
2. We are assured that they are spirits, despite what some people think. As a result, they don’t eat our food as such but rather the goodness of it (the foison);
3. The faeries can be both malign and benign. Fairy rings are dangerous places and people are often harmed (if not killed) by being elf-struck: they are ‘taken with the fayry’ or suffer a stroke. Luckily, several remedies are provided to combat the stroke, which comprise actions, words and medicines;
4. The faeries will also favour some individuals, being friendly towards them and making gifts of money;
5. Physically, the faeries are quite small (typically the height of older infants) and can be divided up into five distinct classes or tribes whose behaviour and temperament are defined by their colour. This is the most interesting aspect of all.

The tendency in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to divide the faeries into classes, and to allocate certain colours to those, is something I’ve discussed in previous postings and in various books (such as my Fayerie). For instance, the Tudor wise-man John Walsh, from Dorset, famously identified three different groups of faeries, some of which were worse than others. The colours he allotted to these ‘tribes’ (white, green and black) might reflect their habitual dress, but as I have suggested in a posting on their complexions and in my 2022 book on Faery Mysteries, there is certainly some evidence to suggest that this was a matter of skin-tone rather than shade of fabric.

One example of this idea comes from Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft of 1584. In chapter 33 he makes reference to the case of the so-called St Osyth witches, a group of Essex women who were tried in 1582 on suspicion of sorcery and for having ‘imps‘ or familiar devils. Closely involved in this investigation was one Brian Darcie (died 1587), a magistrate and sheriff of Essex. He published an account of the case, which Scot repeatedly mentioned in his book, and it’s plain he had little time for Darcie or his work. Hence, in chapter 33 of the Discoverie, he remarks:

“Now, how Brian Darcies’ he spirits and shee spirits, Tittie and Tiffin, Suckin and Pidgin, Liard and Robin, &c: his white spirits and blacke spirits, graie spirits and red spirits, divell tode and divell lambe, divel’s cat and divel’s dam, agree herewithall, or can stand consonant with the word of God, or true philosophie, let heaven and earth judge.”

Scot, Discoverie, 1584, 542.

Scot was plainly highly sceptical about the accusations made against the women and girls in St Osyth, but he does give us a glimpse of popular belief at the time- that sprites would take on various forms (including dogs and tiny horses, cows and colts) and that they would be adopted by wise men and women, who would name them, keep them hidden and fed and would rely upon them for magical assistance and knowledge. These imps or spirits tended to come in a range of conventional colours and appear to have been the familiar rural faeries expressed in slightly different terms.

This section in Douce 116 very valuable and we must be very thankful to Dan Harms for bringing the text to wider attention. The manuscript deals with areas covered by many other sources, but brings them all together into one comprehensive statement. Furthermore, it hints (once again) that the Tudor and Stuart conception of the faeries was more complex that we now suppose.