Fairies

by Morgan Daimler

  Fairies also occasionally borrow from people, reflecting another layer of dependence. In some cases this borrowing may be of grain or produce, which is later paid back, although not always in kind and the Good Neighbors are known to give more than they originally took. In other instances, which may be less easily categorized as borrowing per se, a fairy mother might ask a human mother to nurse her child once or a human might be prevailed on to help fix a broken item (Briggs, 1976). In these cases we may describe this type of borrowing as one of a skill, such as the loan of a midwife mentioned above, rather than of a physical object. Themselves are also known to borrow, or outright steal, handmills as well as borrowing the use of mills at night when humans are not using them. All of these examples show a tendency to borrow things the fairies themselves are in need of, but do not have. However, there is a sense of honor in the borrowing and usually a repayment to the lender not only in kind for the loan in many cases, but also often of good fortune and friendship.

  Food and Drink

  When a person is in Fairy it is generally unwise to accept any food or drink, because as a rule to eat or drink the offerings of Fairy usually means to be bound to it. There are some exceptions to this, which seem to hinge on the fairies choosing to release a person, but in the bulk of folklore accepting even a bite of food or sip of drink could mean you would never return to mortal Earth. In many stories we see a person saved by the intercession of another, someone who was once mortal and who was themselves taken, who knows the dangers of eating fairy food and warns the new person. For example in a story from Ballard’s Fairies and the Supernatural on Reachrai from the anthology The Good People, a midwife was called to attend a fairy birth and afterwards the fairies asked her to stay with them and she refused, so they offered her something to eat. She was going to accept it, but a young human woman sitting nearby nursing a baby began to sing in Irish: ‘Eat nothing, drink nothing, or don’t stay the night,’ and the midwife heeded the warning and refused, asking instead be taken back home (Ballard, 1991, p56).

  In contrast, however, the fairies have long been known to take food as well as milk from people. It is possible that this does not have the same effect on them when they take it from us because it is owed to them as part of their due for blessing the harvest and prosperity of the herds. This may be part of the wider belief that people long ago entered into an agreement with the Gods and by extension fairies to give them part of the harvest – grain and milk – in exchange for such a blessing, which is still reflected in the idea that the fairies are due a tithe of the harvest each year3.

  There are a variety of folk beliefs based around sharing with the fey to avoid them stealing what they want. One practice was to give any food that was dropped on the ground to them, in the belief that they caused it to be dropped as a way to indicate that they wanted it (Evans-Wentz, 1911). Another was to pour out a small amount of whatever a person was drinking if they were outside, to give some of it to the fairies (Danaher, 1972). In this way we are sharing what we have with them by giving it freely instead of having it taken forcibly or stolen. It is, arguably, better to have a positive reciprocal relationship with them than an antagonistic one.

  Fairy Music

  The fairies are famous both for their love of musicians and for their own enchanting music. The fairies love good music and dancing and they appreciate true musical talent. As with so many other things Fairy, this is a double-edged blade as the music of Fairy can be both a blessing and a curse, and the gifts that fairies are able to grant to the musicians they favor are often the same.

  Musicians have long been one of the groups of people who may be taken by the fairies, but unlike most others, musicians are generally only borrowed, sometimes for as little as a single night, to provide entertainment for the fairies. In at least one case from the Isle of Skye though the man was told when he was returned that he would have to go back to the Fairy Queen when she called him, and so when that day came he left behind his family and rejoined Fairy (Logan, 1981). A musician known to have been taken by the fairies often gained a reputation for his skill and knowledge (Jenkins, 1991). To please the fairies with your talent earned great reward, but to fail to please them or to defy them could be very dangerous. In one story a piper was invited to play for the Gentry and did so, but growing tired he finally said he could play no more; the Fairy Queen asked him for one more song and he refused her so she cursed him, saying that he would never play another song again.

  To hear the music of Fairy often means to be enchanted and entrapped by the Otherworld. Many who hear this music never entirely escape the allure of its melody, although some are blessed with great inspiration from it. The renowned Irish musician Turlough O’Carolan was said to have received the gift of his talent and many of his songs by sleeping on a fairy mound (Logan, 1981). However, a group of women who heard fairy music while they were at the shore gathering shellfish danced to the sound until they were physically ill from the exertion (Evans-Wentz, 1911). In other cases people only hear a little bit of the melody and are none the worse for it. Those who have heard the music of Fairy describe it as incomparably beautiful, but also often melancholy or haunting. Once you hear it you never really forget it.

  Fairy Rings

  One particular bit of folklore that is still especially relevant today is that of fairy rings, also called fairy circles, Elf rings, or Elf circles. In Welsh they may be known as cylch y Tylwyth Teg (literally ‘circle of the Fair Family’). The concept of these rings can be found throughout the different Celtic language-speaking countries as well as the various diaspora and some Anglo-Saxon and German lore as well. Fairy rings appear as either a dark circle of grass or as mushrooms growing together in a ring, and less often as a circle of small stones. It is said in folklore and common belief that this ring marks a place where the fairies have danced or where they like to dance. In the 12th century there was an Anglo-Saxon belief that attributed fairy rings to the dancing of female Elves (Hall, 2007). The fairies love of dancing is well known as is their penchant to take people who disturb their revelry, either as a punishment or through a desire to keep the person in Fairy (Evans-Wentz, 1911).

  Fairy rings can appear in different sizes, from three feet across to ten times that size (Bennett, 1991; Gwyndaf, 1991). If they were the sort made of darker green within a field of grass then they would be either moss or much darker green grass and were notable because ‘no rushes or anything grew on it’ (Gwyndaf, 1991). From a scientific perspective fairy rings are created by the fungus mycelium and when they grow above ground can include a variety of mushroom species, both poisonous and edible. Even the dark grass circles are the result of mycelium though, as the fungus naturally grows upwards and outwards in an expanding circle and affects the nutrient content of the soil, resulting in the visible fairy ring effect (Mushroom Appreciation, 2016). Of course, the scientific explanation doesn’t necessarily contradict the fairylore explanation, and the two beliefs are compatible with each other. In some folklore it isn’t the fairies’ dancing that causes the circle, but rather the existence of the circle that draws the fairies to dance there (Bennett, 2001).

  A person who comes upon an active fairy ring might see the dancers within it, and even the instruments, but hear nothing from outside, although in other stories hearing the music acts as a lure to draw an unsuspecting mortal in. Most people had a clear aversion to the idea of entering a fairy ring as it was known to do so risked the fairies coming and taking the person away. In one Welsh story preserved in the late 20th century a person was questioned about why they avoided fairy rings and they relayed the tale of a boy named Robin Jones who entered a fairy circle one evening; he saw the fairies dancing and after what seemed to him a few hours in their company he asked to leave only to return home to find that a hundred years had passed (Gwyndaf, 1991). In a similar tale a man stopped outside a fairy ring, just to watch the fairies dance within for a few hours, and lost fifteen years of time for his dallying (Gwyndaf, 1991). Some fairy r
ings appear to have been used as a sort of trap to intentionally lure mortals, especially children, that the Fey Folk wished to take and these people if they entered the ring would never be returned (Evans-Wentz, 1911). Other times, however, it seems to be only chance that leads a person to find fairies dancing in a ring; in accounts from Brittany some who join them are treated well and released unharmed while those who offend them while they dance are forced to join the circle until they collapse from exhaustion or die (Evans-Wentz, 1911).

  Once in a fairy ring, by choice or by compulsion, a person could not leave unless they were freed by the Good Folk or rescued by another human being. Often the person would dance for what seemed like a night to them, or even only a few minutes, and then be allowed to leave only to find that a year or more had passed. In one Scottish take a man fell asleep in the middle of a fairy ring and woke to find himself being carried through the air by the angry fairies who dumped him in a city many miles away (Briggs, 1978). Several options were available for those seeking to rescue a comrade from a fairy ring. One Welsh method of securing a person’s release was to place a stick of rowan across the boundary of the ring, breaking it (Gwyndaf, 1991). Some suggest throwing specific herbs, including thyme, into the circle, and of course iron is seen as superlative method of both disrupting a fairy ring and protecting oneself from angry fey (Hartland, 1891). Any iron object would suffice and could be used to break the edge of the ring or could be tossed into the circle to disrupt the dancing. Another method was for someone safely outside the circle to reach in, sometimes by stepping on the perimeter of the ring, and grab the person as they danced past (Briggs, 1978). Even if they were rescued though, many times the person could not truly be saved, and those who had danced with the fairies in a fairy ring were known to pine away afterwards or else, if they had been taken for a length of time and allowed to leave they might rapidly age or turn to dust when the truth of their long absence from mortal Earth was revealed to them in their home place, now occupied by strangers (Brigg, 1978).

  There is a strong belief that if one finds a fairy ring it should not be disturbed, not only because of the possible danger, but also because there is a sacredness to the space set aside within them. If one were to damage a mushroom associated with a fairy ring, reparations would be offered to avoid punishment (Bennett, 1991). In Scotland and Wales it was generally unthinkable by those who believed in the Good Folk to consider intentionally damaging the ring or mushrooms, and it was believed that those who did so would be cursed (Bennett, 1991; Gwyndaf, 1991). In one Irish story a farmer who knowingly built a barn on a fairy ring fell unconscious afterwards and had a vision telling him to take down the barn (Wilde, 1888).

  Fairy rings are still found today although perhaps fewer people see the footsteps of the fey in them, and more see the science of mycelium. In the spirit of tradition though it doesn’t have to be one or the other, but can be both, in truth, and we can still see the enchantment and sacredness of the footsteps of the Good People in fairy rings without denying the knowledge of their natural cause. If you keep your eyes open and your senses sharp you may find a ring of dark grass or newly grown mushrooms in your yard or the area you live in.

  Although perhaps you’ll think twice about stepping across its boundary.

  Scottish Fairies and the Teind to Hell

  There’s an interesting folkloric belief in Scotland that says the Good Neighbors owe a teind (tithe) to Hell that must be paid regularly. This idea first appears in writing in two poems and spread from there, entering wider belief and becoming popular particularly in the modern period. One thing that makes the teind interesting is that it is not found in Ireland or other Celtic areas with shared fairy beliefs, nor was it a common idea throughout Scotland until a much later period. Originally the concept of the teind was seen only along the southern border. For example in his extensive writing on the Scottish fairies in the 17th century the Rev. Robert Kirk makes no mention of such a teind. It does appear in one 16th century witchcraft trial in Edinburgh, but only one, despite the many times fairies were discussed by accused witches. Despite this, today it is an idea that is familiar to many people who are interested in the Good Folk, and it is often accepted as both factual and ubiquitous to all fairies.

  The evidence relating to the teind suggests that this may be a focused regional belief rather than a more widespread one, appearing first in the areas around the river Tweed. The textual evidence for it is tied by place and personal names into the area around Dryburgh Abbey and Melrose along the Tweed as we see in its first appearance in Thomas of Erceldoune, later known as Thomas the Rhymer, a 15th century poem (Murray, 1918). The second oldest literary source for the teind is the ballad of Tam Lin dating to the 16th century, set at Carterhaugh in Selkirk, also near the Tweed, along one of its tributaries (Murray, 1922). The two locations are about eight miles apart. The Rev. Kirk was living and writing in Aberfoyle, about 80 miles to the north, which may explain why he seems to have had no knowledge of this tithe. This geographic difference may have been significant, and part of the explanation for why the teind seems to have been so strongly present in one specific area and almost unknown elsewhere until the story of it spread much later.

  The teind is based in the idea that the fairies must pay a tribute to Hell on a regular basis, generally said to be every seven years (Briggs, 1976). The exact agreement and terms vary by source, while agreeing on the general concept. The single witchcraft confession claimed it was a yearly tithe and the two poems clearly state it is paid every seven years. It is also called both a teind in some variations and a kane in others; teind in Scots means tithe, a payment of a tenth part, while kane is a Scots word for a payment by a renter to his landlord (Lyle, 1970). The difference between a teind and a kane is significant, as the first implies the loss of a tenth of the population every seven years, if we assume seven years was the standard, and the second does not. Indeed the various texts of Tam Lin often imply that he expects to be the only one given to Hell as he says, ‘I fear ’twill be myself’ (Lyle, 1970). There may be more logic to the idea of a single offering rather than of a tenth of the entire population being given every year or every seven years, but the evidence exists to support either interpretation.

  In the 16th century trial of Alison Pearson, the accused witch confessed to learning her craft from the fairies and said that, ‘every year the tithe of them [the fairies) were taken away to Hell’ (Scott, 1830). Thomas of Erceldoune references the Devil fetching his fee from the fairies and suggests that Thomas will be chosen because he is so strong and pleasant:

  To Morne, of helle the foulle fende,

  Amange this folke will feche his fee;

  And thou arte mekill mane and hende,

  I trowe wele he wode chese thee.

  (Murray, 1918)

  (In the morning, the foul fiend of Hell,

  Among this folk will fetch his fee;

  And you are very strong and pleasant,

  I well believe he would choose you)

  Similarly Tam Lin, while pleading with his lover to save him from his fate, says that:

  But aye at every seven years,

  They pay the teind to Hell;

  And I am sae fat and fair of flesh

  I fear ’twill be mysell.

  (Child, 1802)

  This seems to suggest two important things. Firstly the tithe was a regularly anticipated event and secondly those chosen for the teind are picked for physical health and personality. As with tithes of crops it is the best that are chosen and given, so in both poems the ones who would be given for this tithe try to avoid their fate. Although the teind in general has a heavily Christian overtone one might see in this aspect perhaps hints of an older pagan reflection, where a sacrificial animal chosen for a deity would always be of the best quality, unblemished, and usually of good temperament.

  The core concept behind this payment seems to be the idea that the fairies are the vassals or subjects of Hell and its ruler and so owe it and him re
nt on a set basis. This rent is paid, we might say, in the currency of Hell – people. Lyle’s article The Teind to Hell in Tam Lin argues that the belief in the teind grew out of a need to explain the belief in changelings (Lyle, 1970). From this perspective in seeking to understand why fairies stole human beings, people came to fit them and their motives into a Christian worldview. Fairies were seen as fallen angels who lived as tenants to the Devil, trapped as it were outside of both Heaven and Hell they needed to pay rent to their landlord and did so by stealing humans to spare having to give up their own folk. A key aspect to this argument is the fact that in both poems the teind is due to be paid the next morning and the men in the story can be saved that night if they escape Fairy before the payment is made (Lyle, 1970). In Tam Lin this occurs explicitly on Samhain, a time in Scotland when the bi-annual rents were traditionally paid, supporting the idea that the tithe or kane was a rent payment (Lyle, 1970).