The attitude of the fairies towards mankind was, generally speaking, kindly and helpful, so much so that by the country people they were often termed the “good neighbours” and the “wee fouk”; but underneath all their display of nobility, an elfin craftiness and capriciousness of disposition existed, malignant to a degree. They did not, for example, ride unarmed, but had bows and arrows of peculiar power and potency slung at their sides ready to assail the too curious human being or menacing beast. The bows themselves were fashioned from the ribs of men buried “where three Lairds’ lands meet,” and the arrows, which hung in quivers made from adders’ sloughs, were “tipped with deadly plagues.” When mortals offended, it was on their cattle the fairies usually wreaked their vengeance by shooting them with their magic bows and arrows. Such elf-shot cattle exhibited all the symptoms of malignant cramp. Animals quite as innocent, but who, blunderingly unconscious, threatened to trample their diminutive bodies under foot as they passed along, were as summarily treated—at least that was a common explanation to account for puzzling forms of cattle-ill; for the wound of the true elf arrow was so small that evidence of penetration was almost impossible of vision, unless by the eye of those favoured and deeply skilled in fairy-craft practice. A less vague and more material description of the fairy arrows was, that “these fatal shafts were formed of the bog reed, pointed with white field flint, and dipped in the dew of hemlock.” To this day the triangular flints of the Stone Age are associated with the fairy superstition, being popularly known as “elf bolts,” and the occasional turning up of these flints on cultivated land, finds a superstitious explanation in the belief that a shower of these arrows discharged into a field was quite sufficient to blast and wither the expected crop.
The special characteristic of the evil element in the disposition of the fairies was however, a persistent practice of kidnapping unchristened infants, substituting for them baby imps of their own, which in old-world phraseology were known as “changelings.” Such changelings could only be detected and expelled by certain charms and mystic practice, which also permitted the real babe to be restored. The explanation of such kidnapping was that every seventh year “Kain,” in the form of a living sacrifice from the ranks of the fairies, was demanded by Satan, their master, as the price of the supernatural privileges they enjoyed, but as a mortal infant was as readily accepted, the fairies naturally acted in accordance, much preferring to lay a human babe at the feet of the Evil One.
Very naturally the thought of such disastrous possibilities to the domestic life and joy of the people created means and measures to render this particular design of the fairies impotent and inefficient. The cutting of a cross on the head of the cradle, or even over the doorway of the cottage itself, was supposed to “kep skaith” by means of its sacred significance; and immediately before the birth of a child it was a common practice to surround the expectant mother with everything about the household made of steel, such as scissors, wool-clippers, knives, needles, and so forth, which it was firmly believed kept the evil disposition of the fairy spirits at bay, and prevented any unhallowed tampering with the child. It was also customary for the friends of the house when the child was born, to form a guarding circle round it during the darkness of the night, while one of their number was specially employed in waving about the open leaves of a Bible. The risk of abduction immediately ceased after the child was christened. It may here be mentioned that at all times the sound of a church bell immediately broke the fairy power and spell.
The abduction of human beings was not altogether confined to babes, and it will be remembered that James Hogg’s fine ballad of “Kilmeny” is founded on a young maiden being carried off to Fairyland, who in the course of time is allowed to return to the world again when, as so beautifully expressed in the ballad,
“Late, late in the gloamin’
Kilmeny cam’ hame.”
Young married women were more especially liable to be carried off, for the utilitarian purpose of nursing the fairy children, and young men were also occasionally supposed to be stolen away.
It may be noted that it was not considered good for mortals to meet with fairies face to face, however much by accident. Death might even follow such a meeting, although apparently quite natural in form.
Touching upon the very core of unreality of fairy semblance it would seem to have been a general belief, that seen through eyes of those gifted with supernatural power such as in olden days the “seers” were believed to possess, the whole fairy fabric crumbled to its true appearance. Golden treasure became ordinary stone, fairy palace changed to gloomy cavern, and the beautiful beings themselves became ugly and repulsive goblins.
Before passing to gather up the remnants of this fairy-lore in Galloway and Dumfriesshire, it may be of interest to refer to the theory which has been advanced to account for the firm belief by our forefathers in the existence of “fairies and brownies,” which briefly is, that fairies and brownies were none other than straggling and isolated survivors of the race of the ancient Pictish Kingdom of Scotland, for like the fairy and brownie of popular imagination, the Picts dwelt in underground abodes, being what is termed “mound-dwellers.” They were a small people, untiring in their labours, and possessing great strength, or as it has been aptly expressed, “they were ‘unca wee’ bodies, but terribly strong.” As well as being small in stature, they were hairy in body and fleet of foot. They were clever builders, as their underground dwellings excavated at the hands of antiquarians throughout Scotland yet affirm. Indeed there is a tradition that the 12th century Cathedral of Glasgow was largely built by industrious and skilful Picts, brought from Galloway for that purpose.
A strong point in the theory certainly is, that the localities known as the prehistoric abiding places of the Picts are almost invariably associated with fairy-lore and tradition, which has floated down to us on the misty tides of time. At all events it may be in part at least accepted, in so far as it is founded on a basis of fact, and if it does not quite explain the splendour and high-born attributes of Fairyland, it at least goes far to account for the unvarying popular description of “Brownie”—his untiring energy, his shy disposition, and his not very attractive appearance, all of which William Nicholson has painted with strokes of genius in his matchless poem, “The Brownie of Blednoch.”[19]