Of their Domestic Economy and Festive
Habite.
IT is well known that the fairies are a sociable
people, passionately given to festive amusements and jocund hilarity.
Hence, it seldom happens that they cohabit in pairs, like most other
species, but rove about in bands, each band having a stated habitation or
residence, to which they resort as occasion suggests.
Their habitations are generally
found in rough irregular precipices and broken caverns, remarkable for
wildness of scenery, from whence we may infer that they are particularly
fond of what we term the Romantic. These habitations are composed of
stones, in the form of irregular turrets, of such size and shapes as the
nature of the materials, and the taste of the architect, happened to
suggest, and so solid in their structure, as frequently to resemble"
masses of rocks or earthen hillocks."
Their doors, windows, smoke-vents,
and other conveniences, are so artfully constructed, as to
be invisible to the naked eye in day-light,
though in dark nights splendid lights are frequently reflected
through their invisible casements.
Within those "Tomhans,"
or, as others term them "Shian," sociality and mirth are ever the
inmates,—and they are so much addicted to dancing, that it forms their
chief and favourite amusement. The length of their reels will be judged of
from the following narrative:
"Once upon a time, a tenant in the
neighbourhood of Cairngorm in Strathspey, emigrated with his family and
cattle to the forest of Glenavon, which is well known to be inhabited by
many fairies as well as ghosts. Two of his sons having been one night late
out in search of some of their sheep which had strayed, they had occasion
to pass a fairy turret, or dwelling, of very large dimensions; and what
was their astonishment on observing streams of the most refulgent light
shining forth through innumerable crevices in the rock—crevices which the
sharpest eye in the country had never seen before. Curiosity led them
towards the turret, when they were charmed by the most exquisite sounds
ever emitted by a fiddle-string, which, joined to the sportive mirth and
glee accompanying it, reconciled them in a great measure to the scene,
although they knew well enough the inhabitants were fairies. Nay,
overpowered by the enchanting jigs played by the fiddler, one of the
brothers had even the hardihood to propose that they should pay the
occupants of the turret a short visit. To this motion the other brother,
fond as he was of dancing, and animated as he was by the music, would by
no means consent, and very earnestly inculcated upon his brother many
pithy arguments well calculated to restrain his curiosity. But every new
jig that was played, and every new reel that was danced, inspired the
adventurous brother with additional ardour; and at length, completely
fascinated by the enchanting revelry, leaving all prudence behind, at one
leap he entered the "Shian." The poor forlorn brother was now left in a
most; uncomfortable situation. His grief for the loss of a brother whom he
dearly loved, suggested to him more than once the desperate idea of
sharing his fate; by following his example. But, on the other hand, when
he coolly considered the possibility of sharing very different
entertainment from that which rung upon his ears, and remembering, too,
the comforts and conveniences of his father’s fireside, the idea
immediately appeared to him any thing but prudent. After a long and
disagreeable altercation between his affection for his brother and his
regard for himself, he came to the resolution of trying a middle
course;—that is, to send in at the window a few remonstrances to his
brother, which, if he did not attend to, let the consequences be upon his
own head. Accordingly, taking his station at one of the crevices, and,
calling upon his brother, three several times, by name, as use is, he sent
into him, as aforesaid, the most moving pieces of elocution he could think
upon,—imploring him, as he valued his poor parent’s life and blessing, to
come forth and go home with him, Donald Macgillivray, his thrice
affectionate and unhappy brother. But, whether it was he could not hear
this eloquent harangue, or, what is more probable, that he did not choose
to attend to it,—certain it is, that it proved totally ineffectual to
accomplish its object,—.and the consequence was, that Donald Macgillivray
found it equally much his duty and his interest to return home to his
family with the melancholy tale of poor Rory’s fate. All the prescribed
ceremonies calculated to rescue him from the fairy dominion were resorted
to by his mourning relatives without effect, and Rory was supposed as lost
for ever, when a wise man
of the day having learned the circumstance, set
them upon a plan of having him delivered at the end of twelve months from
his entry. "Return," says the Duin Glichd to Donald, "to the place
where you lost your brother, a year and a day from the time. You will
insert in your garment a Rowan Cross, which will protect you from the
fairies’ interposition. Enter the turret
boldly and resolutely, in the name of the
Highest claim your brother, and, if he does not accompany you voluntarily,
seize him and carry him off by force,—none dare
interfere with you."
The experiment appeared to the
cautious contemplative brother as one that was fraught with no ordinary
danger, and he would have most willingly declined the prominent character
allotted to him in the performance of it, but for the importunate entreaty
of his friends, who implored him, as he valued their blessing, not to
slight such excellent advice. Their entreaties, together with his
confidence in the virtues of the Rowan Cross, overcame his scruples, and
he, at length, agreed to put the experiment in practice, whatever the
result might be.
Well then, the important day
arrived, when the father of those two sons was destined either to recover
his lost son, or to lose the only son he had, and, anxious as the father
felt, Donald Macgillivray, the intended adventurer, felt no less on the
occasion. The hour of midnight approached, when the drama was to be acted,
and Donald Macgillivray, loaded with all the charms and benedictions in
his country, took mournful leave of his friends, and proceeded to the
scene of his intended enterprise. On approaching the well-known turret, a
repetition of that mirth and those ravishing sounds, that had been the
source of so much sorrow to himself and family, once more attracted his
attention, without at all creating in his mind any extraordinary feelings
of satisfaction. On the contrary, he abhorred the sounds most heartily,
and felt much greater inclination to recede than to advance. But what was
to be done? courage, character, and every thing dear to him, were at
stake—so that to advance was his only alternative. In short, he reached
the "Shian," and after twenty fruitless attempts, he at length
entered the place with trembling footsteps, and amidst the brilliant and
jovial scene—the not least gratifying spectacle, which presented itself to
Donald, was his brother Rory earnestly engaged at the Highland Fling on
the floor, at which, as might have been expected, he had greatly improved.
Without losing much time in satisfying his curiosity, by examining the
quality of the company, he ran to his brother, repeating, most vehemently,
the wards prescribed to him by the "Wise man"—seized him by the
collar, and insisted be should immediately accompany him home to his poor
afflicted parents. Rory assented, provided he would allow him to finish
his single reel, assuring Donald, very earnestly, that he had not been
half an hour in the house. In vain did the latter assure the former, that,
instead of half an hour, he had actually remained twelve months. Nor would
he have believed his overjoyed friends on reaching home, "did not the
calves, now grown into stots, and the new-born babes, now travelling the
house, at length convince him, that in his single reel he had danced for a
twelvemonth and a day."
This reel, however, in which Rory
Macgillivary had been engaged, although it may be considered of pretty
moderate length, will form but a short space in a night’s entertainment,
of which the following is a brief account:
"Nearly three hundred years ago,
there lived in Strathspey two men, greatly celebrated for their
performances on the fiddle. It happened upon a certain Christmas time,
that they had formed the resolution of going to Inverness, to be employed
in their musical capacities, during that festive season. Accordingly,
having arrived in that great town, and secured lodgings, they sent round
the newsman and his bell, to announce to the inhabitants their arrival in
town, and the object of it, their great celebrity in their own country,
the number of tunes they played, and their rate of charge per day, per
night, or hour. Very soon after, they were called upon by a venerable
looking old man, grey haired and somewhat wrinkled, of genteel deportment
and liberal disposition; for, instead of grudging their charges, as they
expected, he only said that he would double the demand They cheerfully
agreed to accompany him, and soon they found themselves at the door of a
very curius dwelling, the appearance of which they did not at all relish.
It was night, but still they could easily distinguish the house to be
neither like the great Castle Grant, Castle Lethindry, Castle Roy, or
Castle-na-muchkeruch at home, nor like any other house they had seen on
their travels. It resembled a huge fairy ‘Tomhan,’ such as are seen in
Glenmore. But the mild persuasive eloquence of the guide, reinforced by
the irresistible arguments of a purse of gold, soon removed any scruples
they felt at the idea of enterring so novel a mansion. They entered the
place, and all sensations of fear were soon absorbed in those of
admiration of the august assembly which surrounded them; strings tuned to
sweet harmony, soon gave birth to glee in the dwelling. The floor bounded
beneath the agile ‘fantastic toe,’
and gaiety in its height pervaded every soul
present. The night passed on harmoniously, while the diversity of the
reels, and the loveliness of the dancers, presented to the fiddlers the
most gratifying scene they ever
witnessed; and in the morning, when the ball was
terminated, they took their leave, sorry that the
time of their engagement was so
short, and highly gratified at the liberal
treatment which they experienced. But
what was their astonishment, on issuing forth from
this strange dwelling, when they beheld the novel scene which surrounded
them. Instead of coming out of a castle, they found they had
come out of a little hill, they knew not
what way, and on entering the town they found those objects
which yesterday shone in all the splendour of novelty, today exhibit only
the ruins and ravages of time, while the strange
innovations of dress and manners displayed by their
numerous spectators, filled them with
wonder and consternation. At last a mutual understanding
took place between themselves, and the crowd
assembled to look upon them, and a short account
of their adventures led the more
sagacious part of the spectators to suspect at once,
that they, had been paying a
visit to the inhabitants of Tomnafurich, which, not long ago,
was the grand rendezvous of many of the fairy
bands inhabiting the surrounding districts;
and the arrival of a very old man on
the spot set the matter fairly at rest.
On being attracted by the crowd, he
walked up to the two poor old
oddities, who were the subject
of amazement, and having learned their history, thus addressed them: ‘You
are the two men my great-grandfather lodged,
and who, it was supposed, were
decoyed by Thomas Rymer to Tomnafurich. Sore did your friends
lament your loss—but the lapse of a hundred years has now rendered your
name extinct.’
"Finding every circumstance conspire to
verify the old man’s story, the poor fiddlers
were naturally inspired with feelings of reverential
awe at the secret wonders of the Deity—and it being the
Sabbath-day, they naturally wished to indulge those
feelings in a place of worship. They, accordingly,
proceeded to church, and took their places, to hear
public worship, and sat for a while listening to the
pealing bells which, while they summoned the
remainder of the congregation to church, summoned
them to their long homes. When the ambassador of
peace ascended the sacred place, to announce to his flock the glad tidings
of the gospel—strange to tell, at the first word uttered by his lips, his
ancient hearers, the poor deluded fiddlers, both crumbled into dust." |