Seeing Fairies

by Marjorie T Johnson

  While living in Leeds in 1926-1927, Miss Muriel M. Golding was suffering from insomnia after a severe attack of influenza, and suddenly, as she tossed on her bed longing to sleep but unable to do so, she saw on her pillow a little creature of the goblin type, not more than a foot high. He seemed to be wearing blue-and-white pantaloons and a little jacket, and he had a curious small, mischievous face. He was laughing at her, but she couldn’t believe that he was really there and shut her eyes. When she opened them, there he was still, and he kicked up the bedclothes, put his face on the pillow, and winked at her. Then he vanished. “If he came to cheer me,” she wrote, “he certainly succeeded.”

  Miss Rosemary Harrison was resting in the sick bay at the W.R.N.S. Station at Wavenden, near Bletchley, Buckinghamshire, when she saw several little people floating all around her bed for quite a considerable time. She assured me she was wide-awake and was not delirious. The tiny creatures had wings and were about four inches high.

  Even a dentist’s surgery is not immune from the presence of fairies. Certain drugs and gases can affect the vibrations of the human body, and when an anaesthetic is used, it causes the etheric or vital body of the patient to be partially driven out of the physical body, and this makes him or her more sensitive to superphysical vibrations. At such times, some patients have flashes of clairvoyance, and this was the case with Mrs. Gwen Morley, of Nottingham, who assured me of the vivid reality of the fairies, which she saw while having dental treatment under gas. They must have utilized some of the ectoplasmic substance from her loosened etheric body, for they were of a transparent white colour. Their dresses were of the traditional ballet type, and they carried wands, which they waved as they flew around her, no doubt in order to transmit the healing power. She was so entranced by the sight of these delightful little creatures that she wished she could have stayed longer under the anaesthetic; but then she became aware of the dentist’s hand on her cheek, and all the fairies vanished abruptly. She told us she felt genuine regret that she could no longer see them.

  In 1959, I read that some rescue workers were trying to release a student who was trapped 1,000 feet underground in a Derbyshire cavern, and one of the men said: “The carbon dioxide makes you extremely light-headed. You think you can see fairies… it is most eerie.” Alcohol had the same effect on some people, and John De Burgh Leaks wrote in the September 1940 issue of Prediction that a scientist whom he met claimed that he could see fairies dancing on his dining-room table every time he took a few glasses of whisky!

  Nature spirits have a wonderful faculty of tasking strong thought-images and projecting them on walls, etc., and sometimes even physical objects in a room are “taken over” and woven into a kind of magic transformation scene. One wonders whether these visions are intended merely as entertainment for the viewers—who must unknowingly have provided the right conditions for such phenomena—or as a pleasurable experience for the nature spirits. The following accounts seem to show that both conjectures are correct.

  Mrs. Maud B. G. Longuehaye and her husband, of Middlesex, occupied separate beds facing approximately north, placed together in a fair-sized front bedroom with an easterly outlook. They usually retired to bed between 11 p.m. and midnight, though sometimes a little later. Writing to me on 3 April in 1955, Mrs. Longuehaye said: “Some six months or more ago, a short while after retiring and putting out the light, I told my husband I could see a most peculiar scene and asked him whether he could see it and, if so, what it was. I was very surprised when he said he could see nothing, and I thereupon described the scene to him while I was looking at it, and I have thus described similar scenes, with variations, many times since. At the end of my bed, or a little further away, a spot of light grew into an egg-shaped, misty form, which appeared to the eye about three feet at its longest diameter. The ‘material’ from which it was formed was at first a white cloud-like vapour in constant motion, in the course of which it gradually built up organised forms. These were difficult at first to make out, but the most prominent eventually shaped itself into a figure less than a foot tall, which gradually became sufficiently clear to be recognised as that of a young woman dressed in some loose white drapery. This figure was in constant movement, performing a kind of dance, moving legs, arms, and shoulders with a sort of flowing motion, and constantly turning. I have, in fact, never gotten a clear view of the face, as every time I tried to do so the figure seemed to sway or turn away from me. Upon various occasions the figure has differed in size and clearness, but on the whole its characteristics have been the same, reminding me somewhat of the semi-classical figures one finds in illustrations to Victorian storybooks. The egg-shaped structure is very definitely three-dimensional and contains a scene in which the figure moves. This scene in a way resembles those landscapes contained in a glass sphere, which can be bought at toy shops. It is brightly coloured, and the colours move and change. They seem to shine with their own brightness, are very attractive and difficult to describe, as they are different from ordinary colours. The nature of the scene varies while actually under view. The impression is of the described figure dancing in a glade, or amongst coloured rocks, or upon a seashore, surrounded by colours. There is often an impression that there are other figures, too distant, small or crowded together to be clearly distinguished.

  “On the night of 28 March last, a new feature appeared. Two spots of light, separated by a few feet, developed into two egg-shaped structures. One progressed more or less as described before; the other had a vaguely defined scene of its own, but did not become sufficiently clear to allow of a description. This is so far the only occasion when two of the structures have developed simultaneously. They seemed independent, not just duplications. The appearances are rather pleasant, and when they are absent for, say, a week, I am inclined to miss them. They do, however, keep me awake, and as I like to describe them to my husband, I sometimes have to deny myself this, as otherwise I keep him awake. I have no explanation of the foregoing and have been very far from seeking such visions, which have imposed themselves upon me unasked.”

  On 11 April 1955, Mrs. Longuehaye sent me a further experience. “The way in which the scene has manifested recently has changed. It has developed as an egg-shaped structure, but this has soon disappeared, leaving the scene unenclosed but surrounded by a kind of misty blue and gold atmosphere. On the night of April 9, there was a further development or extension, and the nature of the scene was different. Immediately [as] I put out the light, it appeared, first on the rectangle of wall above the fireplace opposite my bed, which was the largest part. It then developed at two other points, one a few feet to the left of the first, and another to my left, just above my husband’s bed. These extra developments were not very distinct, but formed part of the main scene, which was a forest glade, and gave an impression of vast space, of woodlands, and it was surrounded by trees with interlaced boughs. The whole was suffused by a pale mauve light and was full of soft mauve shadows. (One shadow came right on top of me, but I had no particular sensation.) A vast concourse of people was present, and it appeared as if some ceremony was in progress. Facing me was a broad flight of steps, which led down to a kind of rail. At the top of the steps, on either side, were two pointed niches (like those found in Gothic churches intended to contain the images of saints). In each niche stood a figure, and I knew them to be alive. They shone with their own light—bright and silvery like moonlight. Descending the steps came the figure of a man, which appeared to be about a foot tall. I took him to be a priest, and as he came to the rail I thought he was going to give Communion. However, he stopped, raised his arms above his head, and brought them down straight below his waist three times. I sat up to try to get a better view of his face, but just as it was getting clear he walked back up the steps. Then he appeared to turn over and over, as if he was turning a somersault, and shot into the air.”

  Mrs. Longuehaye’s description of the “priest’s” ludicrous behaviour establishes beyond doubt that these visions were pro
duced by nature spirits, who can keep a certain form only as long as their minds are fixed on it. The mock priest’s mind evidently began to wander, and he lost his equilibrium, forgot the dignity of his role, and became once more a rollicking nature-spirit. He appeared again about a week later, this time dressed in a purple cope. He came down the steps, holding a sword straight in front of him, an end in each hand. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he held it up in the air and twisted it about three times. He turned, and Mrs. Longuehaye did not see him anymore.

  On 14 April she saw a small, but quite bright, light over the bedroom fireplace. “This grew larger and then developed into an egg-shaped structure, which gradually dispersed, leaving a sort of light that slowly formed into what looked like a long pathway between trees with interlaced boughs, which were of different soft colours. People, girls, began to walk about. Stone steps then appeared, and the figures went down them until they got quite close to me. The scene then opened out into what seemed like a large hall, full of beautiful colours; first a lovely mauve, which gradually turned to pink, and then all the other colours were present, like a soft but bright rainbow. The figures moved, glided, and danced in this setting, attired in white dresses, which shone like moonlight. The principal figure was distinct enough for me to see that she was dressed in a skirt gathered tightly at the waist and, so far as I could make out, a white blouse or upper garment of some kind.” On this occasion, rays of light streamed from her and formed a half-circle of light from her waist upwards, and this made a kind of umbrella over her head. “Then the scene melted away and it became like a stream or pool, and the figure seemed to dive and glide towards the left and disappeared. The scene then became broader again, and rocks formed. The figure reappeared and climbed from rock to rock. These were almost like steps, and she was gliding here and there. I then went to sleep, and when I awoke at 4 o’clock, the scene was still there.

  “On 15 April the vision began by the formation on the right-hand side of the fireplace of a little ball of light, much brighter than usual, about the size of a golf-ball. This grew and became less bright in the centre, eventually forming a scene, which was, however, very indistinct. The figure appeared and glided about in the middle. It went away from time to time and then departed for good. There was one new feature in this experience, in that while the figure was present I could hear the tinkling of a bell, and it was like the sound of one of the little bells that are put on Christmas trees.

  “On 16 April the scene developed on my right-hand side, nearer to me than usual. The figure was small, self-luminous, and the whole scene seemed as though it was a great distance away—rather as if I was looking at it through the wrong end of binoculars. Nothing happened; it was more like a tableau and remained so until I went to sleep. The figures in these scenes are very much alive, about a foot high, of light build, and in perfect proportion. They have beautiful hands, pink like those of a healthy human being. I have not been able to see their features as they turn away whenever I think I am about to do so, but my feeling is that they are quite normal and human-like.”

  The constant flowing or pulsating movements observed by Mrs. Longuehaye are typical of the astral plane. So, also, are the lovely luminous colours, which she states are “different from ordinary colours.. There are, indeed, several more shades in between those of the visible spectrum, and these additional colours have no equivalent in the physical world.

  Mrs. Muriel M. Golding, who has an account elsewhere in this book, likewise had a vision in her bedroom. It was of a lovely garden full of flowers and flooded with light, and she could see it with her eyes open or shut, each flower and leaf was distinct in every detail, and out of every flower a fairy rode like an emanation. These beings were diaphanous and many-hued, and were either moving up and down or flitting here and there, never still for a moment. “It was a most entrancing picture,” she said, “and this was only the beginning of other visions. Sometimes the room appeared full of flowers; they were all about me in gentle and perpetual movement. I feel I ought to be able to touch them. It is really as though a breeze were passing through them, and they are always so fresh and unblemished, never a faded flower. I imagine them to be archetypes in an etheric world. The other night I saw, for the first time, precious stones of every colour, all shining and luminous, as though lighted from within. So lovely!”

  A contributor of several accounts, Mrs. Lily McKenzie had bedroom visions which were equally fascinating. In 1964 she told me she had wakened between 5 and 7 a.m. one day to find her bedroom wall lit up, and there was a lovely spray of leaves trailing from one corner. She thought she had been dreaming, but after an interval of several weeks the visions continued and she knew she was fully awake. “In fact,” she said, “my daughter-in-law brings me a cup of tea, and I am already sitting up in bed looking in wonder at the beautiful decorations all over my walls.”

  At first she saw only the trailing leaves, and she asked the fairies if they could put roses on the walls and also show her who was the artist. The roses appeared—not in colour but in black and white—and then she saw about eight little figures of a golden hue, busily working on the wall in a circle of light. The fairies also produced visions of ferns. One night she was shown a country scene, with two large oak trees and a little cottage at the back of them. She often saw trees, and sometimes their branches spread right up to her as she lay in bed, and they were so bright that they lit up the room. Previous to these visions, a golden fairy had appeared about 2 o’clock in the morning. It was floating in the air in a circle of light, and has appeared several times since. On another morning she wakened to find the space at the side of her bed covered with golden and bronze chrysanthemums, with dainty gypsophila growing in between. They seemed to grow from the floor, and the gypsphila flowers had little lights flitting in and out among them. This lovely carpet of flowers possessed a radiance of its own, and she watched until it disappeared. In September 1965, she saw three little dwarfs in her bedroom. They were dressed in a drab brown colour with hats to match. One of them was at the foot of her bed, and the other two were standing on her dressing table, admiring themselves in the mirror.

  Around 2:30 a.m., one day in November of the same year, she saw a small green tree being carried around the room by a gnome. He was looking for a place to set it down, and at last he put it on the floor and disappeared. A little later he came back through the window with a bigger tree and put it beside the first one. This went on until there were seven or eight trees of different sizes on the floor. “I felt I was sitting in my garden instead of sitting up in my bed,” she said, and in a further letter she told me that the gnomes still continued to bring her these trees, especially when the leaves had fallen from those in her garden.

  A few days later she was awakened by something touching her face, and saw that it was a long, trailing branch of leaves hanging from the ceiling. At the same time she saw the golden fairy flying into her room through the window. There were some plants on the table, and the fairy flew to an asparagus fern and flitted all over it. She was like a large butterfly of about four inches. In the moonlight Mrs. McKenzie could see her reflected in the mirror of the dressing table: “A very lovely sight, fragile and dainty, and like shining gold.” It is interesting to note that the leaves touched the seer’s face, and therefore must have been composed of substance of an ectoplasmic nature, and this is borne out by her descriptions of the decorations: “A few times it looks like white fur. I see it spreading slowly over the walls, where it remains for a little while and then gradually fades.” Distance is no object to the nature spirits, and when Mrs. McKenzie went to stay with her sister who lived 370 miles away, her bedroom became decorated with flowers and trees similar to those she saw in her own home.

  One evening, Mrs. R. Steer, of London, turned her head to the wall side of her bed, when suddenly the whole area became white, and golden lilies appeared there, surrounded by a massive golden frame. Then a field appeared over her bed, in which were groups of sil
ver flowers, swaying as though in a breeze, and she seemed to be standing in the field among them, with a Christ-like presence near her left side.

  Mrs. V. I. Larkworthy (see her other account in this book) told me that she, too, had seen beautiful colours and scenery on her walls, but she did not give me detailed descriptions.

  Fairy Glamour

  “Glamour” (otherwise known as “gramarye”) is the art of illusion created by the fertile imagination of the fairies. One form of this magical art of glamour in which these nature spirits excel is their mischievous habit of leading people astray, and those who experience it are said to be “piskielated” or “pixie-led.” Surroundings, which once were familiar to them, become strange. They wander about, sometimes for hours, feeling lost and bewildered, searching for the path across a moor or a gate, which seems no longer there. Sometimes they find themselves in the middle of a fairy village or market, or see houses or castles which can vanish just as suddenly as they appear. It is really a harmless deception of the senses and not at all evil, though, at the time, the victim is under a sort of spell.