It is entirely possible that Lyle is correct and that the teind is a later folk belief, dating to the mid second millennia, and created to explain why fairies were thought to steal humans away from their own kind. Certainly it has many layers of such belief attached to it, including the taking of humans and danger to those humans should they remain in Fairy and not return to mortal Earth, and it is impossible to ever know the ultimate roots of the beliefs now. However, it is also possible that the ideas behind the teind may reflect older, highly localized beliefs that might tentatively be suggested were originally related to offerings or sacrifices to the spirits of the area or perhaps a deity of the river Tweed. One could guess that these offerings may originally have been of goods or animals, but were later confused with the stories of fairy abductions and changelings to create the folklore in its current form. If the Christian overtones are stripped away and we remove the references to Hell and the Devil, which may safely be said to be much later additions to any potentially earlier beliefs, what is left is a septennial sacrifice of either a single individual or a tenth portion – a tithe – paid as a form of rent by the fairy inhabitants of the area of the river Tweed around Melrose. One might even go further and suggest that during the pagan period this payment was most likely from the human inhabitants to the fey in that area or perhaps to the deity of that river itself. The Celts, et al., were known for worshiping river deities and for making votive sacrifices to rivers, so such an idea is not at all out of place with what is known of native pagan religion (MacCulloch, 1911). Indeed, there are some parallels to Manx tradition where it is said in a 16th century poem to Manannán that every landholder had to pay the God a yearly rent in the form of rushes (MacQuarrie, 1997). Traditional Fairy Faith beliefs as well would support the idea of the importance of specific areas to very specific beings and practices as well as the idea that a belief might be highly localized, especially prior to modern technology and the spread of literacy (Evans-Wentz, 1911). It is possible that after Christianization the beliefs were either changed to reflect the new cosmology, to fit into the new belief system, or else over time the older beliefs were confused and twisted when they stopped being followed and melded with other extant fairy beliefs about changelings.
So, ultimately, we can conclude that the teind is a fascinating and unique belief found in the southern area of Scotland in about the 16th century. At that point it reflected the idea that the fairies paid rent to Hell in the form of lives, preferably stolen human ones, probably once every seven years. A person who had been taken by the fey could avoid being this teind if they could be rescued from Fairy, or flee it, on the eve of the payment, otherwise if they were fair enough and well-mannered enough the Fairy Queen may give them in payment. This fitted into the worldview at the time, which placed fairies as beings that were neither good nor evil and existed between the realms of Heaven and Hell, but owed allegiance to Hell as fallen angels, albeit not demons themselves. The belief itself might be a way to explain why the fairies took humans to begin with and left changelings, or it could perhaps be an echo of an older pagan practice or offering sacrifices to the spirits themselves for the humans to pay rent, as it were, to live in the territory of the Gods or fey. Ultimately we will never know with certainty, but it is an interesting subject to contemplate.
Elfshot
In both Irish and Scottish fairylore ‘elfshot’ or ‘elf-arrows’ are a type of small weapon used by the Good Folk, and in Scotland also by witches, against people and livestock. The ubiquitous weapons of the fey, elfshot caused a variety of maladies to those struck by them. The arrows themselves, when found on the ground, are small Neolithic flint arrowheads, but when used by the Gentry are invisible to mortal eyes as are the wounds they cause. Finding such a small piece of flint or primitive arrowhead lying on the ground might lead a person to believe they had found a fairy-dart (O hOgain, 1995) and indeed such arrows are occasionally found and thought to be significant and powerful, for good or ill.
In Scotland they were called ‘saighead sith’ (fairy arrows) and finding one on the ground was believed to bring a person good luck (McNeill, 1956). Indeed although being struck by one could be calamitous, finding one was auspicious and it would be kept afterwards as a talisman. While some believed a found elf-arrow should be thrown in water or buried lest it draw Otherworldly attentions, to others it was a powerful talisman, although it had to be kept covered from sunlight and not allowed to touch the ground again (Black, 1894; Wilde, 1888; Evans, 1957). It was believed in Scotland that elf-arrows could not be found if a person was searching for one, but were only found by accident and usually in an odd or unexpected way (Black, 1894). This might include appearing in one’s possessions or clothing after a walk outdoors or even in one’s shoe. Lady Wilde, however, mentions the Irish belief that ‘fairy stones’ were often found near sí (fairy hills) lying on the ground, and adds no particular prohibition against intentionally looking for them. To possess an elf-arrow was good luck and they had magical uses as well, being used in cures for sick cattle as well as herbal charms (Wilde, 1888; Evans, 1957). There are several examples of found elfshot from Scotland that were set in silver and worn as pendants, because of the belief that they were protective talismans.
When used as weapons by the Other Crowd elfshot was thought to be the direct cause of elf-stroke or fairy-stroke. This fairy-stroke could take the form of a sudden seizure or paralysis, cramping, pain, bruising, wasting sicknesses, and even death (Briggs, 1976). The most distinctive type of elfshot was a sudden, inexplicable shooting pain, usually internal (Hall, 2007). The fairies might use elfshot for anything from punishing someone for a minor offense, in which case the effect might be slight and temporary, to tormenting a person with great pain and suffering if they were truly angry. If they wanted to take a person they might use elfshot to paralyze them then switch the person with a changeling or a glamoured item such as a log (Briggs, 1976). If they wanted to take cattle a similar procedure was used, where the animal was shot and would waste away and die, thus going to the fairies (O hOgain, 1995). The phrase ‘fairy stroke’ in Old Irish is ‘póc aosáin’, which literally means ‘fairies’ kiss’; áesán itself means both fairies and the sickness caused by fairies.
Witches as well as fairies were said to use elfshot, especially in Scotland. In several witch trial people confessed to using elfshot to harm others, and Isobel Gowdie in her confession claimed to have seen the shot being made when she was visiting among the fairies (Briggs, 1976). In her telling she said she had gone with the fairies and saw the Devil himself making the shot and handing it to ‘Elf boys’ who sharpened them and prepared them. She claimed that they were then given to the mortal witches to be used with a short chant and that the shot was fired by being flicked off the thumb with a fingernail (Black, 1894; Briggs, 1976). In Ireland witches were not known to use elfshot, rather having a reputation for ‘blinking’ or putting the evil eye on cattle or people instead, but there were other similarities between Irish witches and fairies and it was said that witches learned from the fairies (Jenkins, 1991; Wilde, 1888).
Cures for elfshot varied. For people there are a variety of charms, drinks, and salves to be found in the old Anglo-Saxon Leechbooks. Usually a person would be diagnosed with an Elf-related ailment, often involving sudden internal pain or an illness that was traditionally attributed to Elves, then a cure would be prepared and given in conjunction with a chanted or spoken charm or prayer (Hall, 2007; Jolly; 1996). For horses as well the Leechbook offers possible cures that involve a combination of actions, including shedding the animal’s blood, and spoken charms (Jolly, 1996). For cattle, animals might be rubbed with salt water and made to drink a portion, given water that had both salt and silver in it, or rubbed with a found elf-arrow, which was believed to have curative powers (Black, 1894). One approach in Ireland was to spill a bit of the cow’s blood in a ceremony dedicating the animal to Saint Martin (Evans, 1957). Often a specialist, a fairy doctor or wise woman (Bean Feasa), would b
e called in first to verify that a person or animal had been elfshot and if necessary to effect the cure (Jenkins, 1991). In some cases the effect of the shot was deemed permanent and could not be cured at all or the cure applied would not be strong enough to be effective. In some cases, tragically especially in relation to suspected changelings, the cure itself would prove fatal.
Elfshot by any of the many names it has gone by – elf-arrows, fairy arrows, fairy darts, fairy stones, saighead sith – are fascinating items. Terribly dangerous if they strike a person or animal they are a fearsome weapon of the Good People. Their effects can be transitory or permanent and may be mitigated with magical charms and herbal cures, and ironically the same exact shot that causes the injury can be used to cure it when wielded by a well-intentioned human hand. As dangerous as elfshot can be if it strikes a person, it is also a wonderful talisman to possess if you happen to find one – but only if you remember to keep it with proper care, away from sunlight and off the ground, lest the Good Folk come back to reclaim it.
End Notes
1. I include Imbolc because all of the quarter days are mentioned in the sources. However, I have not found any explicit references to fairy traditions or superstitions relating to Imbolc.
2. In Grimm’s Teutonic Mythology he discusses the practice of offering a cow to the Elves as part of an alfablot
3. The idea of this tithe was discussed in more depth in the previous section on Lughnasa and can be researched further in MacNeill’s book The Festival of Lughnasa. I did previously mention the power of human food to convert a member of Fairy to a mortal, but I suspect that is situation-specific, that is when they are taking food from us as an offering or a tithe, or taking the essence of the food, it negates the power of that food over them. Only when they are bound to Earth and also consuming the produce of the Earth as it is, unaltered, does it affect them the way that fairy food affects mortals taken into Fairy.
Chapter 7
Mortal Interactions
‘I have won me a youth,’ the Elf Queen said,
‘The fairest that earth may see;
This night I have won young Elph Irving
My cupbearer to be.
His service lasts but for seven sweet years,
And his wage is a kiss of me.’
The Faerie Oak of Corriewater
As we’ve already seen by looking at fairies in tradition there is a great deal of entanglement between the world of Fairy and mortal Earth, and between the beings of Fairy and humans. There is a dependence between the two peoples that is complex and goes back a long way indeed. This almost symbiotic relationship is more than just a matter of our worlds intersecting, or our need to appease them to ensure good crops. For good or ill they can affect us in profound ways and we can, perhaps, affect them as well. In this chapter I want to take a closer and deeper look specifically at mortal interactions with fairies and what we may be able to learn from these stories.
The Goblin Market
There is a long tradition in folklore of various fairy markets, places that humans sometimes stumble across and that can be perilous or provide opportunities for trade, depending on how the human behaves. Many stories of these markets or fairs appear in collections of folklore from the past several hundred years, when writing down such stories became fashionable, and often reflect similar themes. These stories portray the ambiguous nature of the Good Folk, who may reward those with good manners or severely punish those who they feel are violating their privacy, and the markets themselves can be pleasant or dangerous (Briggs, 1976).
One particularly interesting type of fairy market, mentioned in a poem of the same name by Rossetti written in the late 1850s, is the Goblin market. Literary critics, especially those discussing the poem in the latter part of the 20th century, tend to ignore the piece’s folklore and fairylore themes and discuss it purely as a work of Victorian literature with cultural, sexual, and feminist undertones. However, the work has strong and clear ties to traditional fairy beliefs and deserves consideration on those merits as well.
The poem is the story of two sisters, Laura and Lizzie. Every ‘morning and evening’ the girls would get water at the brook and would hear Goblins calling out, selling fruit. Lizzie warns her sister not to even look at the Goblins, but one time Laura can’t resist peeking at them and what they are selling. Lizzie runs away, but Laura stays and the Goblins, who are processing past carrying trays and baskets of fruit, offer her their wares. When she explains she has no money they trade her the fruit for a lock of her golden hair and single tear. She then gorges herself on the fruit and on the juice and afterwards, not knowing if it was night or day, she stumbles home. Her sister meets her at the gate, upset and reminding her of their friend Jeanie who also bought the Goblin fruit and afterwards pined to death searching in vain for another taste, but unable to find the Goblins again. Laura dismisses her sister’s concern and says that the next night she will get more fruit to share with Lizzie, mentioning that she already wishes she had more of it to eat herself. The next day Laura is already pining for the fruit, but when evening comes although her sister can still hear the Goblins’ call at the brook, Laura cannot. Laura then falls into decline, refusing to eat, her hair turning grey, losing the will to do her chores; remembering their dead friend Jeanie, and in desperation to save her sister, Lizzie takes a silver coin and goes to find the Goblins. They come to her, pleased, and she gives them the coin and asks to take the fruit, but they insist she eat with them. She refuses and says if they will not sell her the fruit to take she will take her coin back and go. The Goblins become furious and attack her, clawing and hissing, trying to force the fruit into her mouth. Finally, having pinched her black and blue and covered her in fruit juice, but failing to force her to eat, the Goblins admit defeat and give her back her coin and leave. Lizzie flees home and tells Laura to lick the fruit juice off her, and though she cries and the juice is like ‘wormwood on her tongue’ she does. Tasting the fruit a second time puts her into a fit; she tears her clothes and leaps around the room until she collapses. Lizzie tends her throughout the night and in the morning Laura awakens completely cured and restored to her previous self. The poem ends with both sisters grown and married, telling their children the story of how their sisterly love for each other saved Laura from a terrible fate and emphasizing the value of sisterhood.
Looking at the story conveyed in the poem several obvious fairy themes are immediately apparent, including the importance of liminal spaces and the dangers of dealing with malicious fairies. Katherine Briggs suggests three main themes for the poem Goblin Market as well: the violation of fairy privacy by looking at them, the breaking of the taboo of eating fairy food, and the rescue of a person from Fairyland (Briggs, 1976). All of these concepts can be found in various forms in other stories of fairy markets and fairs, although few are as overtly dark as Goblin Market. Even small things in the poem, like Laura choosing to address the Goblins when she speaks to them as ‘Good Folk’ and the description of them as each deformed in some way yet alluring in their manner hint at traditional fairylore. In the poem both Jeanie and Laura are described as going grey, and this too may reflect a known effect fairies can have on people; in some anecdotes those who have interacted with fairies display premature aging as a result (Narvaez, 2001). And it is also worth noting that after dealing with the Goblins each person loses track of time entirely, becoming unsure if it is even day or night, with a loss of time or time shifting yet another common occurrence when dealing with fairies (Briggs, 1967).
The Goblins only appear at ‘morning and evening’ or in other words the liminal times of dawn and dusk. These times are well known to be likely for fairy encounters and caution is often advised for those travelling at such times (Briggs, 1967). Additionally the girls only hear the Goblins when they are in another liminal place, standing on the banks of the brook, at the very edge of the water filling their pitchers. In this position they are neither on land nor in the water, but between the two. We see
a third reference later to another liminal place, when Laura runs home after eating the Goblin fruit, Lizzie meets her at the gate, warning her sister again about the danger as she stands on the threshold between their yard and the outside world, with Laura still on the outside.
Briggs suggests, and I agree, that Rossetti’s Goblins – with their cleverly baited trap set to lure mortals to their doom – are certainly Unseelie Court and are strongly reminiscent of the darker tales of fairies to be found in traditional lore (Briggs, 1976). Dealing with such beings, intentionally or accidentally, often proves painful or fatal for the mortal involved. In the poem the reader finds out that the girls were aware of the danger presented by the Goblins, as they had lost a friend previously to the fruit. Lizzie says when talking about Jeanie’s death no grass will grow on her grave and the daisies that Lizzie planted there ‘never blow’ making it clear that the girls knew her death was unnatural. Briggs relates the maliciousness of Rossetti’s Goblins to Bogies, as well as the menacing fairies of Finnbhearra’s court, and the malevolent revelers of Lady Wilde’s tale of November Eve, all of whom cause human suffering (Briggs, 1976). In general it is neither uncommon nor surprising for fairies to be harmful or to seek to either trick people or to steal young women (O Súilleabháin, 1967). However, to exclusively do so is the hallmark of the Unseelie Court, which is said to be inimical to humanity by nature1.
The first misstep by Laura is to give in to the temptation to look at the Goblins as they pass by with their traveling market. Although they are the ones tempting her to look, and ultimately to taste the fruit, there are old taboos about acknowledging to others that one sees the fairies and especially about watching them when they are going about their business. Although the girls can hear the Goblins they cannot see them unless they intentionally look for them, something Lizzie knows is dangerous as she immediately says: ‘We must not look at goblin men’, and when her sister seems tempted again she says: ‘Laura you should not peep at goblin men.’ The fairies are well known to be secretive people who punish those who spy on them and more so those who talk about what they have seen (Briggs, 1976). This perhaps explains Lizzie’s panic when Laura looks at the Goblins anyway and tells her sister in detail what she sees, prompting Lizzie to say: ‘No, no, no.…their evil gifts would harm us’, stick her fingers in her ears and run away.
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