Monday, 29 May 2017

The Wollaton Park Gnomes

Today I visited a fairy location I've been wanting to visit for many years, the wonderful Wollaton Park in Nottingham. In 1979 a small group of children were wandering the park early one evening when much to their surprise they were chased by gnomes in motor cars! Certainly not your typical fairy sighting. The children said there were around 30 cars in all, with 2 gnomes in each car. The cars made no motor noise but had a button, bell instead of a horn, "triangularish" lights, and the gnomes leaned to steer them. Another child said they had no steering wheels, just a round thing that turned with a handle on it. The cars could also jump over logs.
A drawing by one of the children, from John Knifton's Website

The gnomes were described by one child as "about half the size of me and they had long white beards with red at the bottom and they had little white and red cars and they were chasing us". Another child described the beards as long and black. They wore tights instead of trousers and some were torn with yellow patches on, and they wore blue tops and a green cap with a big bobble at the end. The gnomes had old wrinkled faces and were friendly and they laughed joyfully. One child said they didn't talk, another said they shouted at each other but not in a language he understood. One child said he could see them clearly as there was a light hanging in the trees. On this occasion the gnomes chased the children, but one child mentions they had seen the gnomes previously another night but they just ran off rather than chasing the children. One of the children mentions the gnomes chasing them by the gates, and the children ran out the gates but the gnomes didn't follow them out, and the child thought this could be because they don't come out in the light and might have died.
Another drawing by one of the children, from Nottingham post article

In the transcripts the children give the location as "the swamps" and one said "They went back in the bushes – there’s wire round them, a fence, that’s where they get in. We went in the bushes when it was daytime and we couldn’t see nothing, just trees and swamps." Another child mentions the swamp as having a big fence around it, and normally you can't go in there you have to keep out. The third transcript mentions a gnome coming out "the hole where the fence was", and the children saw gnomes coming out the holes in the top of the trees, and the child says "we just went over the fence to look at them and when we went closer to them they went back in the holes." One of the children was said to have fallen into the swamp during the chase, so presumably the children entered the forbidden fenced off area.
The children with their headmaster, photo from Nottingham post article

All of the above information came from Simon Young's transcript of the Wollaton Park Gnomes, which can be found here on the Academia website.

The story spread and spread and received media coverage, and although there seems to be no mention of the gnomes in the museum at Wollaton Hall today, the gnomes have not been forgotten by folklorists. Just recently a great article appeared in the Nottingham Post seeking the children who originally saw the gnomes, the article can be found here and is well worth a read and also includes information on other fairy sightings in the park.

An earlier mention of fairy folk in Wollaton Park can be found in Marjorie Johnson's Seeing Fairies, where she writes of an account given to her many years ago by Mrs C George who as long ago as the year 1900 was passing the gates when she saw "little men" dressed like policemen, standing inside the lodge entrance. "They were smiling and looking very happy", and were about 2 to 3 feet tall in height and they hadn't any wings. She also mentions that fairies had been seen dancing around the lake in the park. This book also contains an account by Jean Dixon who became aware of gnomes whilst walking in the park, and described them as eager to show her the scenes and objects that delighted them, as she followed them around the park.
A vintage gnome in car ornament, ebay. 

Plenty of great articles and blogs have been written about the Wollaton gnomes so I won't go into any greater detail, but what I couldn't find online are any photos of the area where the gnomes were actually seen. As far as I know, the exact location isn't known for sure or at least hasn't been revealed publicly, but I did find a fenced off wooded boggy area that could possibly fit the description. Though considering how many years have passed since the original encounter, fences may have long since been removed or changed.
Could this be "the swamp"?

Personally, I'm a bit suspicious of the large area of woodland that has been fenced off and marked with keep out signs, are they secretly running a gnome reserve, thinly disguised as a conservation area? The park does close before dusk every day, just when the gnomes are said to come out to roam the park, so who gnomes! Considering that nearly 500 sandstone caves have been discovered hidden under Nottingham, who's to say what creatures may be living down there?  
In all seriousness though, if you do visit the park to look for gnomes there are plenty of wonderful public footpaths and walks, please do not venture into the fenced off areas, they are fenced off for a reason and the deer (and gnomes) deserve their peace and privacy. More information on visiting Wollaton Park can be found here, together with the opening hours.

I'll leave you with a few more photos of the beautiful woodlands at Wollaton Park.....
The Lake
Anyone else see a tree root face here? Also in a swampy area of the park.


Sources and Further Information
Simon Young's transcript of the Wollaton Park Gnomes
John Knifton's The Gnomes of Wollaton Park
Seeing Fairies, Marjorie Johnson
The Wollaton Driving Gnomes, Phantoms and Monsters Website
The Wollaton Ghosts, Nottingham Hidden History Team
Nottingham Caves Survey

Tuesday, 16 May 2017

Fairy Folklore of the Isle of Arran

For the first of this year’s fairy investigations I chose the wonderful Isle of Arran in Scotland, a place I’d never been before but have long wanted to go. Although perhaps more famous for its castles, whiskey and golf, Arran is also home to a very generous scattering of prehistoric monuments and stone circles, including the beautiful Machrie Moor containing six stone circles and a variety of burial cairns and cists. On an island so full of history it comes as no surprise to find so many stories of fairies and fae folk, and a wide variety from fauns to bochans, and bleaters to uruisg. Many of the fairies of Arran were found in groups, small in size, and often dressed in green or red. But not all of the fairies on Arran were wee folk. “They were of all sorts and sizes. Some of them were as great as giants; others of them were of the same size as Human Folk; many were of a shape that was partly human and partly animal.” (Scott, 1919). MacArthur’s Antiquities of Arran tells that in 1861 the belief of fairies in Arran still lingered in the minds of the older inhabitants, “many curious stories are told of the pilfering habits and cunning tricks of the wee-folks, who held their midnight meetings within the stone circles and old forts of the Island" (MacArthur,1861).

Where to Find Fairies
The fairies of Arran live in a wide range of habitats from the cave of Aird-bheinn (Mackenzie, 1914), to the Tor na’ Shian of Glen Cloy where the faerie queen sat at twilight (McArthur, 1861).  If you see a tough hard grass called the pull of necessity growing in circular patches on the moors, you’ve found a place where the fairies dance (Mackenzie, 1914).

Fairy dance circles? Spotted on the walk to Dun Dubh

They dwell in and about cairns and stone circles, old stone chambers, beside bridges, beside fords with flat stepping stones, everywhere on the hills, and some glens are populous with them (Scott, 1919). If this is to be believed, there is barely a spot on Arran without fairies!

 “Where do they say the Fairies in Arran are to be found? The best way to get an answer to that question is to ask the old people very gently and politely about the magic places. They will likely say, “Hoot, toot!” to begin with, and pretend to have no interest in the matter at all. But if you try again and hang on to them very gently and politely, they will tell you where the magic places are. It doesn’t matter very much if they say at the end “O, it is just nonsense!” – that is what they always say!” (Scott, 1919)

In Bennan two men were walking home from an inn when a hole opened in the ground, “the interior of which was lit up, while strains of fine music were to be heard” and the men saw fairies dancing and making merry. One of them men joined them but was rescued a year and a day later (Mackenzie, 1914).

In Dundubh at Corriegills was a cave where the fairies lived with their treasure. To this home of the fairies an old man named Fullarton would visit, he’d take a stocking with him and sit knitting and talking. But Fullarton was aware that the fairies did not always let their guests leave, so always placed a darning needle in the collar of his jacket, or carried a piece of rowan wood with him so they would have no power over him. On one occasion he forgot to take these precautions, and the cave nearly closed before he could escape (Mackenzie, 1914). 
I think the mound at the back is Dun Dubh, but couldn’t get any closer due to forestry work

Fairies were also said to dance on a stone in nearby Corriegills burn, and the top of the granite boulder was said to be flattened out by the fairies dancing on it. Baukans or bocans were also seen near the burn, and only the bravest folk would go through the area at night. The bochan is a hobgoblin usually seen about fords or bridges, or at lonely places along the road or shore. It could not speak to you unless you spoke to it first, and if you ask a question you should ask it in the name of God. They were usually known by the name of the person who saw them, e.g. Donald’s Bocan. It could appear in human form, animal form, or even an inanimate object like a ship (Mackenzie, 1914). Bochans are also common in Kintyre, and some seem to have moved to Canada with Scottish settlers.
Corriegills Burn, where the fairies dance

Few Scottish islands are without a fairy cave and piper story, and Arran is no exception. A piper named Currie and his dog went into a cave playing the pipes. He never returned, but his dog came out at some place in Kintytre. Another piper entered the King’s caves to explore the subterranean passage, armed only with his bagpipe and accompanied by his dog. After some distance he must have met with enemies as these wailing words were played loudly on his pipe: “Woe’s me, woe is me not having three hands, two for the pipe and one for the sword”. He never returned, but his dog returned, without its hair (Mackenzie, 1914). A piper also entered a cave near Dippin with his dog, and the muffled notes are still said to be heard today (McArthur, 1861). The piper story is a common one, and in some versions it is the fairies or even a fairy queen responsible for the death of the piper, though I’ve yet to find mention of this on Arran. 
King's Caves, where the piper entered and never returned

A most unusual fairy home can be found in the stone circles of Machrie Moor. “The perforated column of “Fion-gal’s cauldron seat”, on the Mauchrie Moor, was believed to contain a fairy or brownie, who could only be propitiated by the pouring of milk through the hole bored in the side of the stone” (McArthur, 1861). After much searching I managed to find the hole in question, but unfortunately had forgotten to bring any milk! 
Machrie Moor holed stone, said to be home to a fairy or brownie

Fairy Encounters
In a town in the south end of Arran some farmers stopped for dinner by an old disused burial place, said to be under the guardianship of the fairies. One farmer joked to the others that “surely the little folk think very little of our work since they don’t think it worth their while to give us dinner” and sure enough, when they returned to resume their work they were much surprised to find a table spread with every food you can think of. Now, the men were no experts on fairy etiquette, and none of them could bring themselves to take even the smallest bite, and this caused the fairies great offense. Not so much as one blade of grass grew for all of the farmers labour (Mackenzie, 1914).

Another time a farmer out ploughing the fields was struck with hunger and said to himself “If I had a bit of bread it would keep me up until noontide”. As he came to the head-rig he could smell a newly baked bannock and exclaimed that he’d like to eat a piece, and when he next reached the head-rig there lay a newly baked bannock lying on the ground before him. He was astonished but ate it, and he’d never tasted a sweeter bannock. He said how he’d like to get a boll of the meal from which it was made, and when he returned again to the spot there he found a boll of meal. He concluded this was the work of the fairies but knew it was his duty to reward their kindness so when his own meal came from the mill he left a boll at the head-rig. A short time later the fairies met him in the field and thrashed him severely with flails for not giving them the top grain like they gave him. He promised to give them some top grain and this he did, and they stayed good friends after this (Mackenzie, 1914).

Not all fairies were so kind. A housewife on Arran suddenly became very lethargic and sleepy and no amount of rousing would wake her up, much to the puzzlement of her family. They decided to keep watch one night to find out the cause and witnessed a group of fairies enter her room, turn her into a horse, and with this steed they rode their cart all night. In the morning a careful search revealed the harness hidden in the garden (Mackenzie, 1914).

Although no direct mention of the fairies is given, there are a few warning tales on Arran of misfortune to those who disturb an ancient burial cairn. A man partially removed a cairn at Torlin and strewed the human bones over his field, taking one skull home. He had barely entered his home when the walls began shaking as if struck by a tornado, though there was no breeze at all in the neighboring wood. He was wise enough to know a warning when he saw it, and re-buried the bones in their desecrated grave. Day and night shadowy phantoms continued to haunt his mind and track his steps and a few months later he was thrown from his horse and died (McArthur, 1861). At Tor Castle, the locals cleared a mound to partition the land and plant cabbages. Before the year ended the children of the hamlet were all fatherless, all apart from one father who had been called away to another part of the island when the mound was cleared (McArthur, 1861).
Torrylin Cairn, do not disturb!

Perhaps more mischievous than dangerous, a group of fairies twelve to eighteen inches in height took the door off a cart on the road between Lamlash and Brodick (Mackenzie, 1914). Scott’s The East of Arran says the event took place as the cart was passing by the “strange stones” on the right of the road, and describes them as “little brown men”, hanging on to the tail-board of the cart and pulling it off with a clatter before running off with great glee.
Stone circle at the side of the Lamlash to Brodick road, where the brown men climbed on the cart? There are a few stones along this road, but these are the most visible. 

Near Shiskin lived another group of trouble making fairies. They met on the summit of Durra-na-each and amused themselves by throwing pebbles into Mauchrie forest. The rules of the game required the stones to be thrown from between the finger and the thumb. The great forest is now gone but the stones can still be seen over the moors in the grey monoliths and stone circles (McArthur, 1861). Due to the large size of the stones in question, they were either very strong fairies, or this tale originally featured giants rather than fairies! 
One of the Machrie Moor stone circles, thrown by the fairies?

Fairy Kidnappings and Stolen Wives
Fairies are well known for their kidnapping of women, especially those at liminal moments in their life, e.g. child birth, the wedding night, or the death bed. The fairies of Arran are no exception. The wife of Farmer Cook at Claoinead had recently given birth and was attended night and day by the neighbouring maidens, as was the custom at the time. One night a terrible noise was heard coming from the byre. The attendants rushed down to see what was the cause only to find everything as quiet as a mouse, but when they returned to the house the wife had disappeared, stolen by the little folk. Her husband sorely missed her but one day as he was working by the Sliddery burn he saw a great many little folk travelling over his head. He threw in his reaping hook and there appeared his wife, only she could not stay. She said the fairies were good to her, but asked him not to sweep the kiln entirely clean, but leave some grains for them to eat. She told him to leave the front and back doors of the house open on a certain night and as she and the fairy folk trooped through the house, he should throw his wife’s wedding cloak over her and she would be restored to him. As is often the case in such stories, the husband lacked the courage to throw the cloak, and the fairies snatched her away and she was never seen again (Mackenzie, 1914). 
An old derelict cottage in Cloined, could this be where the wife was stolen?

A similar tale appears in Napier’s Folk Lore or Superstitious beliefs in the West of Scotland within this Century, where a new mother near Pladda was carried away by the fairies and her husband failed to throw her wedding gown and save her as his neighbours held him back. In the morning the roof and wall were dashed with blood and the wife was seen no more.

A Kilpatrick farmer was cutting brackens at the Leaca-Bhreac when the sky darkened as something like a thick swarm of bees blotted out the light. He threw his reaping hook up and down came his own wife who he thought to be ill in bed. He tied her to his horse and took her home and put her in the barn as he went to check the house. There he found a “black, ugly old woman” in bed shivering with cold. He said he would put on the fire to warm her up, and then threw her into it! She let out a terrible cry and vanished up the chimney (Mackenzie, 1914).

A man named MacMurchie in Druimaghineir was friendly with the fairies and visited them often, but always sticking a piece of iron above the door as an escape route. One night be found them assembled on a hillock and he travelled with them on ragwort stalks to Ireland. He followed them to a house where a housewife was on her deathbed, and he saw them snatch her and leave in her place a log of wood with the appearance of the woman. When they returned home the fairies gave the woman to Machmurchie for accompanying them to Ireland, and she remained with him as his wife. Seven years later an Irish beggar came by and saw the woman, exclaiming “Well, if I had not placed my wife with my own two hands in the coffin, I would swear that thou art she”. What happened next isn’t told, but the story ends with her departing with the Irish beggar, her lawful husband (Mackenzie, 1914). Carmina Cadelica volume 2 mentions a 79 year old crofter named Donald Macalastair at Druim-a-ghinnir on Arran who told a story in August 1895 of how a man used to visit the fairies in their home. The story is similar to above and they travel to Ireland on ragwort with the King of the Fairies, but no mention is made of a kidnapping.


Fairy Lovers
Not all humans joined the fairies unwillingly. A married man of Arran fell in love with a fairy and visited her often. His wife found out and consulted an old lady who was believed to have power over the fairies. She advised her to watch her husband and when she thought he was about to leave to meet his fairy lover, sprinkle oatmeal on his back. This caused him to see his lover as the ugly creature she was, and he never strayed again (Mackenzie, 1914).

It was not only men who took fairy lovers on Arran. An Arran girl had a most handsome sweetheart, he met her in secret whilst she was spinning and would never tell her his name or where he lived. He asked her to elope but she always refused, until one day he offered to spin the whole sack of wool if she would go with him. As she was very tired of spinning she agreed but on the condition that she would be free from her promise if she discovered his name before the sack of wool was spun. A few evenings later she happened to hear a spinning wheel whilst crossing a stream in a lonely place. She drew nearer and saw a n “old, dark, wizened man” spinning and singing “Oh ! little does my sweetheart know that "Crodhanach" is my name” and she now understood what kind of a sweetheart she had and gained her freedom (Mackenzie, 1914).


Bleaters and Brownies
Although the brownie seems to be very common in Kintyre, few mentions are made of the brownie on Arran. The brownie on one Arran farm was said to be a most useful member of the household, although very jealous of strangers. The farmer once invited a friend to supper but the guest could not eat his porridge for as soon as he lifted a spoonful it slipped back onto the plate. The farmer noticed and violently flung his chair into the corner, shouting “Get out of this”, and explained to his friend about the brownie, and he concluded his meal in peace (Mackenzie, 1914).

Perhaps unique to Arran are the bleaters: curious creatures, neither human nor beast, who came and went as they liked. A bleater in the south end of the island stayed with a family for a long time, going in and out with the cattle, and lying in a cow stall at the end of the byre. He was never seen eating but every night the goodwife would leave meal for him and in the morning it was gone. This went on for a long time until the farmer’s son got married and the young wife threw a coat over him to protect him from the cold. He took offense at this and left, weeping sadly. It is also given the name of the meileachan, and in this source is said to be the young one of the glaistig.

The bleater in Beannan visited three of the largest farms in the area and every day went in and out with the cattle. His head and body were always covered, and all that could be seen of him were his legs. Every morning he stood on a certain hillock and shouted:

“The cattle of Cook, the cattle of MacKinnon,
The cattle of Big Ferguson of Beannan –
Turn them out”

One cold winter day one of the women found him standing on a flagstone moaning and lamenting and shivering cold. She took pity on him and threw her own plaid over him, but he wept bitterly and left the farms, crying “ill is the turn thou hast done me, and heavy is the burden thou hast laid on me” (Mackenzie, 1914).

Even more unusual is the tale of the farmer who was riding home to Clachaig from Lamlash when a monster leapt on his horse’s back. It leapt on and off, startling the horse, and eventually the farmer managed to seize the creature, a young meileachan. He took it home and tied it to the post that was supporting the rafters, but it was not long before mother glaistig tracked it down, threatening to pull down his house. He was glad to be rid of them both and when her young returned to her she told it “I hope you have not revealed to them the virtue of egg-water or of the root of the nettle”, what this means is anyone’s guess! (Mackenzie, 1914). The version in Scott’s East of Arran describes the monster as “cold and slimy. It had hair upon it too, like an animal’s hair, but he touched an arm and shoulder like the body of a human being”. It had human hands but webbing between the fingers, and hair like an otter on the back.


Uruisg, Gruagach, and Hoofed Women
A terrible uruisg was once said to swell in The Monster’s Pool. It had a young male one called meileachan, and at times he would leave the banks of the stream and walk through the fields. The uruisg was a large solitary creature that haunted lovely and mountainous places, they were said to be the offspring of unions between mortals and fairies (Mackenzie, 1914). This suggests that perhaps meileachan and bleaters are different creatures after all, or the uruisg and glaistig are interchangeable in this area, both being considered to be the parents of these creatures.

A young maiden in a shieling at Loch Iorsa was visited one night by a strange woman seeking shelter. As she entered the maiden’s sheep dog moved to the farthest corner, with an angry look. The woman soon retired to bed and the young girl watched her distrustfully, and suddenly noticed with horror a black hoof stretched out from under the bed covers. The maiden ran out the door and down the hill, her dog running behind. The hoofed woman gave chase and the maiden set her dog on her, but still she didn’t stop. The girl reached her father’s house with her heart in her throat, and she barely had time to bolt the door behind her. Her dog didn’t manage to get inside the house in time, and was found the next morning mangled to pieces with not a hair left on him (Mackenzie, 1914). No name is given to this creature, but it does bare similarity to highland stories of the glaistig.

A gruagach lived in a cave in East Bennan, and herded the cattle of the town of Bennan. The herd thrived without death or mishap, and she would come forth with her long golden hair streaming on the morning breeze, and her beautiful voice filling the air with melody. She would wait on a hillock until the folk brought out their creatures, singing her song. The townsfolk were so grateful they resolved to give her a linen garment and sandals, but she was greatly offended by their gift and left the district. She placed her left foot on Benbuidhe in Arran and her right foot on Ailsa Craig, and as she tried to step to the mainland or Ireland she was struck by the mast of a ship and fell into the sea and was never seen again (Carmichael, 1900).  The story ending seems more fitting to a giantess than a gruagach perhaps. 

This next tale is perhaps more typical of a ghost than a fairy. Archie M’Millan was driving his cart home and as he passed the stone bridge over the Achancairn Burn he felt uneasy, sure that something was about to happen. His mare stopped in a cold sweat and no amount of coaxing would move her. Suddenly he noticed a quiet blue flame before him on the bridge, not unlike a corpse light. A pale figure stood by the light, maiden in form and with a deadly beauty. He felt a shiver up his spine but he was brave as a lion and shouted “On I will go, I tell ye, though I drive horse and cart to the Bottomless Pit!” Out went the light and the “fay maiden” melted away like a puff of mist. On moved the mare, and as they passed the bridge Archie heard a splash in the burn, like the sound of a great monster slipping back into the water (Scott, 1919).
Bridge over the Auchencairn Burn, was this where the fay maiden appeared?

Ailments and Cures
Elf shot was the weapon of choice of the Arran fairies, more commonly known today as prehistoric flint arrow heads. It was shot so hard that it required much force to remove it when stuck in the shaft of a spade (Balfour, 1910). An account from 1716 tells of a man who claimed to cure people who were elf shot using a “little black soap” (Mackenzie, 1914). 
Flint arrowheads, or elf shot, at Arran Heritage Museum

The fairies of Arran seem unusually keen to share their knowledge with humans. It was said of physician Doctor Ban that he gained his learning from the fairies under castle hill (Mackenzie, 1914). Doctor M’Larty, said to have lived in the 1700s, was famous for his cures and also said to have been educated by the fairies. He was born at Corriecravie and on his first day of school was met by a “little green-coated man” who took him to a fairy school underneath Torr a’ Chaisteil, an ancient dun (Mackenzie, 1914). 
Torr a’ Chaisteil fairy school. Note the solitary hawthorn tree.

Protection
Should you need protection against the fairies of Arran, oatmeal is said to be effective, as well as the usual methods involving iron and the bible. One grandmother protected her grandson on a journey by breaking an oatcake over him as he slept in his mother’s arms, to keep the fairies from doing him harm (Mackenzie, 1914).

A popular method of protection was to always keep on good terms with the fairies. “When corn was dried on a kiln, it was always considered necessary to leave a portion for the fairies. If this were not done grievous harm might be wrought by them on the owner of the corn” (Mackenzie, 1914) When threshing corn it was also good practice to leave a few grains on a stone nearby to “keep the Fay Folk sweet” (Scott, 1919) This book also advises to throw an iron reaping hook among the fairies  if you see them flying overhead  like a swarm of bees, and a poor mortal trooping with the fairies can be rescued by throwing his coat or mantle over the prisoner.


The Last Fairies in Arran
Depending on who you believe, some say the fairies no longer dwell on Arran. An Arran smack was crossing to Ireland when it began to sink deeper and deeper into the water. The crew could find no leak but one of the men was gifted with the second sight and observed a small brown figure walking across the deck. He called to the other men and told one of them to stand on the top of his feet so look at the deck, and he was horrified to see that the deck, shrouds, and whole vessel were swarming with “brown mannikins”. The little men explained that Arran had become so holy that they were unable to make a livelihood on it, and were moving to Ireland (Mackenzie, 1914). A similar tale can be found in Scott’s East of Arran, where the stowaways are described as “little wee fay folk, red ones, and green ones and brown ones, and all”.

However, since this story was published there have been further sightings of fairies on Arran. One man saw ten fairies playing amongst gorse bushes and round about the grazing sheep. “The sheep were quite undisturbed except that if a fairy went too near one of them it would trot off for a few yards”. Another day he saw fairies whilst wandering in a wood. “I heard the silvery, plangent accents of fairies, and following the sounds saw quite a clan of them hurrying along a green footpath. They seemed angry about something. Observing me, they chattered loudly, scattered as one sees a flock of excited sparrows scattering, increased their speed and fled”. These stories appeared in John O’Groat Weekly 28 March 1936 and can also be found in Seeing Fairies by Marjorie Johnson.

Seeing Fairies also contains an account of a fairy sighting on the cliff top at Whiting Bay. Miss Dorothy McIntyre saw a “transparent lime-green being, eight-to-ten-inches tall and wearing vague, flowing garments.” It was speeding along and vanished over the edge of the cliff. She remembers at the time she had just been laughing with sheer happiness, and it was a perfect summer day. There is a Viking burial site and dun just to the north of Whiting Bay, so perhaps this is the location of the sighting, though we can’t be sure. 
Cliff tops near Whiting Bay, possibly where the fairy was sighted 

In a folder of interviews kept at the Arran Heritage Museum in Brodick is found the following account given to Linda by her grandfather Bobby Taylor: "Miniature people were said to appear in the kitchen of the house on Holy Isle. A lady who lived there a few years ago confirmed that she had seen them." An accompanying note by R Taylor says it is a true story as the writer was "told about the Holy Isle "wee people" by a lady born on the Isle when I took her on the ferry long with her grand daughter to show her where she was born". 
Holy Isle, home to the "wee people"

Even more recently, a lady named Moyra Doorly claims to have encountered the fairies of Arran on multiple occasions including “a procession of little figures led by a faun”. She described the faun as about 3ft tall with tiny hoofs, horns about 6 inches long, and a wrinkled face. He was strutting with pride, and seemed pleased with himself. Her partner Peter also saw the faun and described it as having horns and shaggy legs and hooves, and it appeared agitated “as if some kind of male rivalry issue had been involved”. Moyra also saw an elf boy in the house: “a small figure dressed in mottled greens and browns looked up at me with an expression of sinister mirth. If he had been a child, his height would have put him at around six years old, but he bore no resemblance to any child I have ever met. His face, which was unusually long and well defined, seemed the face of one who had lived for a thousand years.” She also saw a procession of tall slender nature spirits in striped brown green clothing with dull greyish hair by a stream, and dancing imps in bright green who offered her clothing. She entered a hall with them that appeared hewn out of rock, with a long table with preparations for a meal. The couple had perhaps had a lucky escape, and they later decided to “pull back” and stop encouraging the encounters. Full details can be found in the original article, ‘Invitation to Elfland’ in issue 179 of Fortean Times. She also comments that a local folklore expert on Arran said the fairies left when electricity came to the island, though she believes they didn’t leave,  people just stopped being able to see them. It took her months of practice to see the fairies she tells, but I will finish this post with her kind advice for those who wish to see:

"The technique I practised is similar to that required to see the hidden holographic images in Magic Eye pictures. It involves detaching the vision from the object by focusing beyond it and allowing the mind to rest. On a pitch black, moonless night, the aim is not to frantically look for the path ahead but to defocus the eyes and wait for the vague shapes of things to emerge. Rest long and patiently enough and the rocks, trees and hedges will slowly reveal themselves and a slow but safe progress can be made."

Be sure to let me know if you do spot any fairies! 
Faded drawing of a fairy spotted on an information board near Whiting Bay

Bibliography & Further Information
Balfour, John Alexander (1910) The Book of Arran Volume 1.
Carmicheal, Alexander (1900) Carmina Gadelica, Volume 2.
Doorly, Moyra (2004) Invitation to Elfland, Issue 179,  Fortean Times.
Holder, Geoff (2008) Guide to Mysterious Arran.
Johnson, Marjorie (2014) Seeing Fairies.
Mackenzie, W.M. (1914) The Book of Arran Volume 2.
McArthur, John (1861) The Antiquities of Arran.
Napier, James (1879) Folk Lore or Superstitious beliefs in the West of Scotland within this Century.
Scott, Andrew Boyd (1919) The East of Arran.

P.S. A word on copyright. Sadly more and more often i'm finding my photos and research being shared on social media without a link back to my blog or any credit given. I'm happy for readers to cut and paste the stories and share them on Facebook etc, but all I ask is that you include a link back to my blog page. It's just polite, and always makes me smile to see my research appreciated :) 


Tuesday, 27 September 2016

The Mystery of MacKinnon's Cave

On the west coast of the Isle of Mull, tucked away on the coast next to a beautiful waterfall, can be found a mysterious sea cave known as MacKinnon's Cave. According to local legend the cave is a dark and foreboding place, and although versions of the story vary, all seem to end with those who enter the cave meeting an unfortunate and gruesome death. The most detailed account can be found in Maclean's History of the Island of Mull, Volume 1 (1923):
"There is a story that twelve men of Clan Fingan set out to explore Mackinnon's Cave, headed by a piper. Another party walked on the surface, keeping pace with the music. When the party in the cave reached the extreme limit, the fact was to be signalled by a bar of music, and the party above was to mark the spot. After travelling some distance the explorers encountered a fairy woman, who made an attack and slew the party one by one, save the piper, whose music so charmed her that she offered to spare him so long as he did not cease to play on the pipes. The piper retraced his steps to the entrance of the cave, closely followed by the fairy. She agreed that when he saw the light, he could go in peace. He staggered along in the dark, almost overcome by exhaustion, but bravely pouring out his breath, in hopes of reaching his haven. The notes became harsh and discordant, the drones began to groan and the chantes to screech. In spite of the struggle, the contest was too great. The music ceased, and then the fairy attacked and slew him. The harsh notes of the pipe warned the party over the cave that some calamity had befallen the explorers, and unsheathing their swords they rushed to the rescue. Just as they gained the entrance the piper finished his last bar. They found the mangled body of the piper beyond which were the bodies of his companions."

An earlier mention of MacKinnon's Cave can be found in Boswell's The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson (1898) where the cave is described as "a narrow passage about six feet wide, obstructed by large stones, over which, having passed, there is a second cave of about twenty-five feet in breadth ; and here is a square stone called Fingal's Table." This 'table' can still be seen today, a massive flat stone in the deepest part of the cave. When we visited the table was looking particularly eerie, with a large circle of burnt out tealight candles...


Boswell tells that "The cave derives its same from a tradition that a gentleman of the name of Mackinnon was lost in seeking to explore the cave", but no mention is made of a piper or of Mackinnon's unfortunate fate.

Curiously, Boswell's later published The Life of Samuel Johnson: Including a Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, Volume 1 (1932) gives a slightly different account and tells that "a piper and twelve men once advanced into this cave, nobody can tell how far, and never returned." He also adds that "A great number of the McKinnons, escaping from some powerful enemy, hid themselves in this cave till they could get over to the isle of Sky."

More recent versions found of the tale on various websites tell of a piper trying to defeat the fairies in a piping competition, and he walked into the cave accompanied by his dog. Only the terrified dog returned alive, but with his fur burnt off. In some versions of the tale he emerged on the other side of the headland, near Loch Scridain.

I haven't managed to find an earlier written source to back up this version of the tale in relation to MacKinnon's Cave, but there are similiar tales on the Isle of Skye and elsewhere. Swire's Skye: The Island and its Legends (1961) tells of a piper called MacCrimmon who entered a cave with his little terrier dog, whilst his sons and friends followed the sound of his pipes above ground. Near Fairy Bridge the pipes suddenly ceased but barking could still be heard and they followed it to Dhubaig where out of a cave ran the little terrier, with every hair singed off his body. Perhaps MacKinnon and MacCrimmon have become confused over the years.

According to the Calmac website, the piper met a female ogre in MacKinnon's cave, who killed him after he failed to please her with a tune from his pipes.

So the true story of what happened in this cave remains cloaked in mystery, but the stories certainly seem to suggest that something unpleasant lurks deep within this cave. Not one to be scared easily, I decided to find out for myself, accompanied by my husband for moral support (and to help me climb over the rocks, he's part mountain goat I swear). A great detailed description of how to find the cave can be found on the Walk Highlands website, though be warned the walk does involve a lot of scrambling over large boulders and slippery rockpools, and the cave can only be reached at low tide. Here's a few photos from our visit to the cave:

Perhaps there's still something living in the cave after all, when I zoomed in on the above photo I spotted a face in the rocks, a trick of the light or something more mysterious?

Sources & Further Information
History of the Island of Mull, Volume 1, Maclean (1923)
The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, Boswell (1898)
The Life of Samuel Johnson: including a Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, Volume 1, Boswell (1932)
Skye: The Island and its Legends, Swire (1961)

Tuesday, 30 August 2016

The Shellycoat

(Shellycoat by Alan Lee, from Faeries)

The Shellycoat is a curious fae creature, rarely spoken of and even more rarely sighted. He has been sighted in two areas of Scotland, the Ettrick area in the Scottish borders, and Leith near Edinburgh. I've yet to hear of sightings elsewhere, but please do let me know if you've heard of any local Shellycoat sightings.

Walter Scott describes the Shellycoat in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border Volume 1 (1802) as a spirit who resides in the waters, belonging to the class of bogles, who has given his name to many a rock and stone upon the Scottish coast. He appeared decked with marine productions, in particular shells, whose clattering announced his approach. One of his pranks was as follows:

"Two men, in a very dark night, approaching the banks of the Ettrick, heard a doleful voice from its waves repeatedly exclaim - "Lost! Lost!"- They followed the sound, which seemed to be the voice of a drowning person, and, to their infinite astonishment, they found that it ascended the river. Still they continued, during a long and tempestuous night, to follow the cry of the malicious sprite; and arriving, before morning's dawn, at the very source of the river, the voice was now heard descending the opposite side of the mountain in which they arise. The fatigued and deluded travellers now relinquished the pursuit; and had no sooner done so, than they heard shellycoat applauding, in loud bursts of laughter, his successful roguery. This spirit was supposed particularly to haunt the old house of Gorrinberry, situated on the river Hermitage in Liddesdale".

Meanwhile Leith was having its own Shellycoat problem. Cassell's Old and New Edinburgh Vol 3 (1880s) by Grant goes as far as claiming he was "long the bugbear of the urchins of Leith". Campbell's The History of Leith (1827) claims that Shellycoat resorted at a large rock on the site of the present wet docks below the Citadel, and to run around his stone three times repeating a certain rhyme was considered in latter days an act of temerity which none who valued their lives would dare to perform.

Hutchison gives a fuller account in his Tales, Traditions and Antiquities of Leith (1865), describing Shellycoat as "a sort of monster fiend, gigantic but undefinable, who possessed powers almost infinite, who never undertook anything, no matter how great, which he failed to accomplish; his swiftness was that of a spirit, and he delighted in deeds of blood and devastation. He was clothed in a coat covered with shells, the rattling of which was so unnatural and unexpected, that it appalled the hearts of all who heard it, and his usual haunts were near rivers or lakes, and by the sea-shore." When Shellycoat stripped off his coat and left it on a rock the coat defied mortal strength and no man could remove the coat, but while unclothed Shellycoat was perfectly helpless and harmless. His dwelling is said to be the Shellycoat Stane of North Leith, not far from the citadel. Hutchison again mentions circling the stone three times, but this time gives the all-important rhyme:
"Shelly-coat! Shelly-coat! gang awa' hame,
I cry na' yer mercy, I fear na' yer name."
Unfortunately the rock was apparently blown to pieces on the formation of the docks according to Hutchison, though the Georgian Edinburgh website tells that the rock was moved to the entrance of the local sewage plant and became known as the Penny Bap. However Russell's The Story of Leith (1922) claims the Shellycoat rock, which was destroyed when the docks were built, was bigger than the Penny Bap at Seafield, suggesting this was a different rock. Perhaps a Leith resident can leave a comment on this?


Now for the exciting part! Just this week I came across a story of the Shellycoat I had never read before, found purely by luck whilst researching something completely unrelated. The story comes from the above mentioned Tales, Traditions and Antiquities of Leith (1865) and tells of a terrifying encounter between English Dick, a descendant of Cromwell's troopers, and the Shellycoat. English Dick was drinking in a Leith hostelry when mention was made of the mysterious shelly-coat. Now Dick was not a believer and wagered a gallon of wine that he would, at that very hour, proceed alone to the Shelly-coat Stane and in defiance of its guardian, repeat the famous rhyme. The local folk considered this proposal so reckless that they wanted no part of the mischief which they believed would follow such a mad adventure, but eventually after much taunting and drinking, two or three of them accepted his challenge. They accompanied Dick a portion of the way towards the stane but parted at the north end of the old bridge, refusing to venture any further. Dick shook hands with his friends, full of confidence, and it was arranged that in half an hour, after completing his mission, he would rejoin his friends. The men retraced their steps to the Foul Anchor to pass the time until Dick returned. An hour passed, then another, and midnight arrived without English Dick making his appearance. One man proposed they go and search for him immediately but no one volunteered to go with him, and after much discussion they all agreed to proceed to the rock at dawn, most of the men too terrified to return home alone. At dawn they proceeded to North Leith in search of their missing comrade, and there at the Shelly-coat Stane they found English Dick, lying insensible with two broken legs and his body covered in bruises. He was carefully carried to the Foul Anchor for medical attention, and he eventually recovered but it was a long time before he was ready to speak of that night.

When he eventually agreed to speak he summoned his friends to the Foul Anchor and there told them the tale of his encounter with Shellycoat. He told them how he had begun to have doubts but proceeded to the stane and repeated the rhyme. "For an instant I thought I had triumphed - not a sound, save the rippling of the tide, disturbed the perfect stillness of the night. Suddenly, and
without any premonition, I was startled by a most appalling noise which seemed to approach from the direction of Newhaven. It cannot easily be described, but it seemed as if all the shells in the universe had been collected together, and then carried up into the air by a fierce tempest, and dashed against each other with uncontrollable fury". He saw the outline of a giant figure, towering between him and the sea, and it made one tremendous stride towards him, with an infernal clatter. "In a voice of singular softness, considering the appearance of the spirit, he demanded why I had summoned and defied him?" The Shelly-coat seized him by the shoulders and lifted him above his head, and they traversed the air in the direction of Inchkeith in a clatter of shells. Dick was set down on the highest point of the island and Shelly-coat let out a prolonged laugh as Dick was hurled from his perch by a mass of earth that struck his breast, sending him flying down to the ground. He was lifted back to the spot and driven from it again and again six or seven times. "I was utterly unable to offer the slightest resistance. Human nature could not bear up against this, and the demonic laugh of the exulting fiend rang on my ears as I lapsed into insensibility". He was also tossed into the sea he believes, as he found he was dripping wet when he regained consciousness. He then found himself being transported back to Leith just as streaks of light were appearing in the east. Shelly-coat dropped him and he struck the rock as he fell, and the fiend gave a ferocious yell before fading away in the same direction he had arrived. Then next event that Dick remembered was waking up in the Foul Anchor with his friends.

An old smuggler gave a different account and instead claimed that Dick had left his friends and joined another public house where he partook of more drink before attempting to climb the Shellycoat stane. He fell off several times before eventually reaching the top and shouted and gesticulated wildly before falling off and breaking both legs. The smuggler said he was running cargo at the time but returned in daylight, only to find Dick had vanished. Who do you believe?

This story also seems to have inspired an Inspector James McLevy mystery titled A Child is Born by David Ashton, published 2008, which can be read here on the Scotsman Website:  In this tale English Dick is found dead by the Shellycoat Stone and the Shellycoat is revealed to be a local man he made a bet with, a smuggler named Prester Nesbit wearing a coat of shells.

I decided to dig a bit deeper and the Dictionary of the Scots Language Website led me to some very early mentions of Shellycoat. A collection of Scots poems on several occasions by Alexander Pennecuik (1769) contains a poem titled The Marriage betwixt Scrape, Monarch of the Maunders, & Blubberlips, Queen of the Gypsies, written about 1720. Here we find the lines "No shellicoat-goblin, or elf on the green, E'er tripp'd more nimbly than the beggars queen".

The Dictionary of the Scots Language also mentions a reference to Shellycoat in Cramond Sess. Rec. MS (1700), "James Walker called him a shellie coat, and he answered him, not to liken him to ane ill spirit." Unfortunately I've yet to find a copy of the manuscript to confirm this.

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Jan-Jun 1823 contains an article titled Reminiscences of Auld Langsyne No V where the author recollects the stories told by an old widow named Lizzie, who spoke of fairies and imps. "Then came Shelly-coat, a mysterious being. If I recollect rightly, this monster was represented as a human being under a spell, by which he was transformed into a ferocious demon, whose cruelty was insatiable, and his power irresistible".

In Poems by Allan Ramsay (1720) there is a brief mention of Shellycoat: "But yesterday I met her yont a know, She fled as frae a shelly-coated kow." In some areas 'kow' is another word for a goblin or mischievous spirit. In a later edition titled Poems by Allan Ramsay. With new additions and notes (1733) Shelly coat is explained as "one of those frightful spectres the ignorant people are terrified at, and tell us strange Stories of; that they are clothed with a coat of shells, which make a horrid rattling; that they'll be sure to destroy one, if he gets not a running Water between him and it; it dares not meddle with a Woman with child." Strangely, this quote is also given in Brand's Observations on Popular Antiquities (1813)  but here he is referred to as 'Spelly coat', though perhaps this is a printing error by Brand or in an earlier edition of Ramsay's poems.

So there we have it, a guide to the Shellycoat. I hope you'll think twice before reciting the Shellycoat rhyme near any large rocks, and if you hear a mysterious clattering of shells following you as you wander along a deserted beach, you'd better start running towards running water, and don't look back!

Sources & Further Information
Tales, Traditions and Antiquities of Leith, Hutchison (1865)
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border Volume 1, Walter Scott (1802)
Cassell's Old and New Edinburgh Vol 3, Grant (1880s)
The History of Leith, Campbell (1827)
The Story of Leith, Russell (1922)
Poems, Allan Ramsay (1720)
Observations on Popular Antiquities, Brand (1813)
The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Jan-Jun 1823
A collection of Scots poems on several occasions, Pennecuik (1769)
The Leith Shellycoat, Georgian Edinburgh Website
Dictionary of the Scots Language Website


Saturday, 16 July 2016

The Fairies and Pixies of Exmoor

I think it’s about time more attention was paid to the extraordinary fairy folk and pixies of Exmoor! These wonderful little characters are often sadly overlooked and overshadowed by their more famous relatives, the Piskies of Cornwall and Pixies of Dartmoor. Below you will find a beginners guide to the fairies and pixies of Exmoor, including their habits and habitations, and an insight into their curious behaviour.
Although not strictly inside the Exmoor National Park, I’ve also included a couple of stories from nearby locations too including Washford and Minehead. All of the below photos were taken by myself on my trip to Exmoor, I didn't spot any pixies but I'd love to hear of any Exmoor sightings from readers! 
 
What is a Pixy?
Tongue (1965) describes pixies as ”red-headed, with pointed ears, short faces and turned up noses, often cross-eyed”. She describes pixies as wearing green, while the fairies of Somerset wear red. Katharine Briggs (1967) describes the fairies of Somerset as seen in “the twinkling of an eye, they were smaller, about the size of a partridge and of a reddish brown colour”.
Robert Hunt’s Popular Romances of the West of England (1865) advises that “the Piscy or Pixy of East Devon and Somersetshire is a different creature from his cousin of a similar name in Cornwall. The former is a mischievous, but in all respects a very harmless creature, who appears to live a rollicking life amidst the luxuriant scenes of those beautiful counties”. Don’t let this quote lull you into a false sense of security though, the pixies of Exmoor aren’t entirely harmless and do seem rather fond of punishing those they consider deserving.  
The West Somerset Word Book (1886) describes the belief in pixies as still prevalent, but admits there is great confusion between the ideas of pixies, fairies, witches, bogies, goblins, hags, and other uncanny things. This account in The Parish of Selworthy, Hancock (1897) could be describing either pixies or perhaps ghosts. A lady was driving home from dinner in an old fashioned gig one clear summer night and as the carriage approached an open part of the road the lady saw a group of children, prettily dressed, dancing across the road. She cried to her driver to take care, fearing he would drive into them, and he saw them too and slackened his speed, but the figures became indistinct and disappeared as the gig drew near.
Johnson’s Seeing Fairies includes a sighting by a Miss Voss-Bark who saw two pixies whilst exercising her dogs in the woods near Minehead. She saw the pixies rushing away at her approach, and they ran into a hole leading to a hollow oak. “They are really very human. They forgot to duck their heads, and so off flew their hats and went rolling in the pathway.” She was lucky and managed to find the two small hats, which she described as being perfect little cones of wood.
Page’s An Exploration of Exmoor (1895) describes the pixies as once dwelling in Pixy Rocks, a wild combe near Challacombe, and Snell (1903) mentions a Pixy copse not far from Dulverton Station, and near an old British camp.
If HW Kille is to be believed, then the fairies of Exmoor are no more, and only the pixies live there now. Kille told Ruth Tongue in 1961 that the fairies of Somerset were last seen in Buckland St Mary, and they no longer inhabit Somerset. They were defeated in a pitched battle with the Pixies, and now everywhere west of the River Parrett is Pixyland.
Snell suggests in his Book of Exmoor (1903) that the tales of fairies and pixies on Exmoor may be linked to smuggling: “It has been suggested to the writer that in the days when “fair trade” was carried on over Exmoor, smugglers, for their own ends, deliberately fostered, if they did not originate, such stories.”


Mischievous Pixies
So what do we know about the habits and interests of pixies? Tongue (1965) tells of pixies riding colts round and round fields, leaving circles in the grass known as Gallitraps. If you put both feet inside a Gallitrap you are in the power of the pixies, but if you place only one foot inside then you can see the pixies but still escape.  Elworthy (1886) warns that if a person guilty of a crime steps into one of these circles then he is sure to be delivered up to justice and the gallows, possibly hence the name of Gallitraps.
Snell’s Book of Exmoor (1903) warns that pixies are said to content themselves with practical jokes and love frolic more than mischief and “will merely make sport by blowing out the candles on a sudden, or kissing the maids with a smack as they shriek out ‘who’s this?’”.  Snell gives further tales of their exploits, taken from Bray’s Traditions of Devonshire, commenting that “essentially the same ideas obtain about the little people on Exmoor as in the country around Tavistock”.
Snell also mentions that Pixies used to sit on Comer’s Gate, at the north extremity of Winsford Hill. “Some of the country people ‘tis said, fear to pass this spot after dark, having no desire to make the acquaintance of a race noted for its caprice, and wielding, as they suppose, supernatural power.”
Comer’s Gate as it appears today

The Parish of Selworthy, Hancock (1897) gives an unusual account of pixies showing haunting behaviour:  the pixies light fires and dress their children; and in the same meadow there is a post, which none can pass at night, because a shapeless thing with rattling chains springs out against the passer-by. “
Many tales of pixies also suggest them to be moral creatures, punishing those who behave badly and teaching them a lesson.  In 1941 John Ash told Ruth Tongue a pixy tale as they drove home to Lucott from Porlock: “There was a old farmer, a terrible near old toad as lived over Ley Hill, and he cheated at market something fearful. So the pixies took him and led’n home round by Horner Valley and Pool Bridge and left him up to the knees in the middle of the girt mudzog by Bucket Hole Gate”.
Horner’s Wood

A farmer near Hangley Cleave did not escape so lightly. Described as a drunken old toad who gave his poor wife and children a shocking life, he never returned home from market until his pockets were empty and his belly full of cider. He’d sit on his pony singing and swearing, until he rolled into a ditch and slept the night there. But the pixies minded and decided to mend his terrible ways. One foggy night as the drunken farmer was coming home on his horse he saw a light in the mist, which he thought to be his home. But the pony wouldn’t stop, he could see the pixy holding the light, and he could see the light was right over the blackest deepest bog. The farmer tried to force the pony straight towards it but the pony dug his feet in so off the farmer hopped and in he walked, straight into the bog, which swallowed him up. The old pony trotted home, and how the wife and children danced! After that the wife left a pail of clean water out every night for the pixy babies to wash in, and she swept the hearth for the pixies to dance on, and she prospered greatly and the old pony grew as fat as a pig. This version comes from Tongue’s Somerset Folklore (1965) but she comments that there are many various versions of this tale.
 
Pixy-Led
Pixies also take great delight in confusing travellers and misleading them until lost, known as being ‘Pixy-led’. Tongue (1965) tells a story from Halloween 1943: “I was sent by an old farmer’s wife on Exmoor to fetch her husband from the sheep lawn close to the house. She gave me a wicken cross to carry. I found him quite bewildered in the middle of his own field, though the gate was plain to see in the moonshine. I heard nothing, but he was plagued by the sound of pixy laughter. After I had given him the cross he recovered himself and came back quite readily.”
At Great Gate one luckless person saw twenty four pixies. They discovered her watching them and in revenge they led her about the moor all night, and about the woods, until the break of day when they left her. Another time a farmer returning from Minehead market was led about the fields and moors until morning.
What should you do if you find yourself Pixy-led on Exmoor? Hancock’s Parish of Selworthy (1897) advises of the sure remedy in such cases, to take off your coat and turn it. Turning your gloves inside out is also said to break the enchantment.
Pixy face spotted in a tree
 
Will-o’-the-Wisp
Some pixies who lead travellers astray are known as Will-o’-the-wisp, or Spunkies, though their origins are debateable and some believe them to be a separate race entirely, or the souls of unbaptised children.  Snell’s Book of Exmoor (1903) describes the false lights the pixies carry as being will-o’-the-wisp, used to guide poor travellers in a fine dance through bogs and quagmires.
Elworthy’s West Somerset Word-Book (1886) instead uses the name Jack-a-lantern to describe this phenomenon, and tells of a farmer who whilst crossing Dunkery from Porlock to Cutcombe with a leg of mutton was benighted. He saw a Jack-a-lantern and cried out whilst following the light “Man a lost! Man a lost! Half-a-crown and a leg o mutton to show un the way to Cutcombe!”. He doesn’t mention what the Jack-a-lantern thought of this strange behaviour!
Palmer’s Oral Folk-Tales of Wessex (1973) advises that Stoke Pero Church in Exmoor is a place where the Spunkies are supposed to come, showing a watcher there on Hallowe’en who this year’s ghosts will be.
 
Helpful Pixies
The pixies in The Parish of Selworthy, by Hancock (1897) were helpful creatures, and quite similar to Brownies in their behaviour: “The pixies were active in our district in days gone by. If some favoured houses were left ever so dirty, they were found cleaned up in the morning. Even the unfinished operations of brewing have been found completed. The little people came through the keyhole, and expected to be paid by a basin of bread and milk being set for them in a corner. In some houses it was the custom to put a pail of clean water, towels, and soap ready for the use of the pixies.”
The pixies of Withypool in Tongue’s Somerset Folklore (1965) also show similarities to Brownies, vanishing when presented with new clothing: “The farmer of Knighton was very friendly with the pixies. He used to leave a floorful of corn when he was short-handed, and the pixies would thresh it for him. They did an immense amount of work for him until one night his wife peeped through the keyhole and saw them hard at it. She wasn’t afraid of their squinny eyes and hairy bodies but she thought it a crying shame they should go naked and cold. She set to work and made some warm clothes for them and left them on the threshing floor, and after that there was no more help from the pixies.
 
Withypool Church

They did not forget the farmer, however, for one day, after Withypool church bells were hung, the pixy father met him on an upland field. ‘Wilt gie us the lend of thy plough and tackle?’ he said. The farmer was cautious – he’d heard now the pixies used horses. ‘What vor do ‘ee want ‘n?’ he asked. ‘I d’want to take my good wife and littlings out of the noise of they ding-dongs’. The farmer trusted the pixies and they moved lock, stock and barrel over to Winsford Hill, and when the old pack horses trotted home they looked like beautiful two-year olds.”
Winsford Hill, where the pixies live now
Snell’s Book of Exmoor (1903) describes the pixies as being helpful to farmers too. “It was a common saying amongst the farmers that if you wanted a field of corn reaped properly, it was best to get it done by the pixies. Accordingly, a bounteous supper both of meat and drink was taken out to the field, and left there. The next morning it would be found, sure enough, that the work had been done, and done thoroughly. A day or so later, however, a deputation would call at the farmhouse, and a local labourer, touching his cap, would explain that he was the chief of the pixy-men who had partaken of the supper and reaped the field of corn. The farmer thereupon bestowed a gratuity on the party, who were, generally speaking, well rewarded for their pains.” Whether this really was the work of the pixies, or of a group of enterprising local farm lads, I do wonder.
 
The Pixy Market
Although not strictly in Exmoor, I think the infamous pixy market of Minehead deserves a mention, and it serves as a good warning never to look at pixies unless they want you to see them. Versions vary, but the story generally goes that a Minehead woman was one day at market when she sees a pixy-child, or a relative she recognises who she knows to have dealings with the pixies, thieving from the market. She confronts him and asks what he’s doing, and he asks her which eye she can see him with. She tells him and he blows into her eye, leaving her blind. Similar stories of pixy markets can be found all over Somerset including Taunton, Chard, and Pitminster.
 
Pixies at War
Ever so long ago, according to The North-Devon Scenery Book by Tugwell (1863), the pixies were at war with the mine-spirits who live underground, all about the forest and wild hill-country. The mine-spirits forged all kinds of fearful weapons in their underground armouries and used unfair tactics, and the good natured pixies weren’t at all a fair match for them. The Pixie Queen was a resourceful woman, and how she longed to escape the tyranny of the evil earth-demons, so she came up with a plan. Running water, the numbers three and seven, and the mysteries of the circle, she knew to be sure protection against evil, and so she applied them. She assembled her subjects and bade them to build on the summit of a central Exmoor peak the strange circle that can still be seen today at Cow Castle, Simonsbath. It was no common building they erected, every stone and turf was buried with the memory of some kindly dead which the good pixies had done to the race of men, and so when the magic ring was completed, the baffled demons could not enter the sacred enclosure.
When morning broke on the summit of the fairy ring, ring after ring of amber-tinted vapour rose up and floated away in the brightening sky, each on a mission of safety and peace. They wandered hither and thither over Exmoor, leaving rings of the greenest grass where these magical rings sunk down softly on the ground. Here the pixies dance on moonlit nights, unharmed by the mine demons, who were never seen above ground again.
Cow Castle

 
The Green Lady
There are mentions made of a Green Lady in Exmoor, perhaps ghost or perhaps fairy in origin. Oral Folk-Tales of Wessex, Palmer (1971) tells that the Green Lady of Crowcombe warns of coming illness, and she is considered a very unlucky ghost to see. The author describes her as an “other world fairy creature that has passed into oral tradition as a ghost”. Tongue also mentions three white ladies in other areas of Somerset who seem to be more fairy than ghost, including the white lady of St Julian’s Well and the White Rider of Corfe.

The Woman of the Mist
Tongue (1965 & 1967) mentions the Woman of the Mist, seen in the autumn and winter on Bicknoller Hill near Watchet. She describes her as herding the red deer, like the Scottish Blue Hag, and as being sometimes reported as an old trail crone gathering sticks, and sometimes as a great misty figure who becomes part of the mist. She was seen face to face in 1920, and again in the 1950s. A darker more sinister mist like creature has been reported by Hancock (1897) in the Parish of Selworthy, described as an indefinable black object that grows larger and larger until it shuts out the moonlight.

Protection from Pixies
In Somerset Folklore (1965), Ruth Tongue includes many hints and tips on how to protect yourself and your property from the pixies and fairies. A piece of advice from Exmoor in 1907 advises to tie a piece of wicken (quicken or quick beam) to the tails of your cows with a red thread to protect cattle from fairies and pixies. On St Thomas Day (December 21st) hang up wicken crosses in all the stables and cowsheds (1903).
Old Billy of Washford met a hurd-yed (red haired) someone in a lane, and then he spotted another and another as he continued his journey. “So old Billy he did do what he should ha’ done fust go. Hed’ shut his eyes, n’ cross his two fingers, ‘n go on sebem steps.”
Other pixy protection methods from Somerset but not specific to Exmoor include turning your coat inside out, a rusty horseshoe on the inside of the lintel to keep out pixies, a flint with a natural hole through it, making the figure of two hearts and a criss cross on the malt when brewing to keep the pixies off, never picnicking under an oak tree on a Thursday, stirring jam with a hazel or rowan twig so the fae folk can’t steal it, leaving a pin in a baby’s frock until it’s christened, never wearing green in May, and burning Christmas evergreens to prevent them turning into pixies else they’ll plague you for a year.


Sources and Further Information
The North-Devon Scenery Book, Tugwell (1863)
Popular Romances of the West of England, Robert Hunt (1865)
West Somerset Word-Book, Elworthy (1886)
An Exploration of Exmoor, Paige (1895)
The Parish of Selworthy, Hancock (1897)
Book of Exmoor, Snell (1903)
Somerset Folklore, Tongue (1965)
Folktales of England, Katharine Briggs & Ruth Tongue (1965)
The Fairies in Tradition and Literature, Katharine Briggs (1967)
Palmer’s Oral Folk-Tales of Wessex (1973)

 

“They’ll tell ‘ee three things ‘bout an Exmoor Pony ‘can climb a cleeve, carry a drunky, and zee a pixy.”
– Briggs (1965)