The Stolen Child: A Fairy Story

The Faeries of Scotland and Ireland are not to be confused with dainty fairies cavorting in neat Victorian gardens. This strange old tale speaks of the dark mischief they are capable of. It is a tale of love and loss, separation and reunion, recounted in a soothing, calm, unhurried storytelling style.

Transcript

Just a few days ago I went hiking in the hills near where I live here in the border country of Scotland and I went to a place called Minchmore and I walked on an ancient drover's track up into the hill.

By the side of that track,

High on the hill is a place called the Cheesewell.

It's a little natural spring in the mountain and it's known as the Cheesewell and has been known as a Cheesewell for many hundreds of years because tradition has it that one should leave a small offering,

A small token of cheese or these days people leave coins for the fairy folk that you might pass across the moor without mischief or harm.

And this is a story of those fairy folk.

I ask that if you enjoy this story treat it as you would a street performer or a busker that you've enjoyed and drop a donation into the hat so to speak and if you do that that means I can continue to offer these stories.

This story came to me from Peter Brooks in Baltimore and I believe he heard it in a version by Joan Stockbridge.

It's an old story.

There was a path,

A coastal path and on one side of that path the cliffs rose sheer.

On the other side of that path the cold grey sea breathed and moaned.

And on that path walked two fairy women wrapped in heavy green cloaks and those two fairy women stopped for their way was blocked by a bundle in the path.

And that bundle whimpered and mewed.

One of the fairy women picked up the bundle and tore away the cloth.

It's a baby,

A mortal baby.

And she wrapped the baby again,

Put it inside her cloak and the two fairy women went on their way faster than they had come.

And as they disappeared a fishing boat came round the headland and the man at the tiller,

He says,

What's that there on the cliff?

Ah,

There's nothing there,

Says his mate.

No,

I see something there high on the cliff,

On the path.

And the tiller man turned the boat for shore.

But that wasn't an easy task because it was a rocky place but he was skilled and he steered that boat safely through the rocks to the shingle shore and he pulled and scraped that boat ashore across the shingle and the two men set to claiming their eyes up to the path.

Swiftly and surely they climbed until they came to the path and there they discovered a young woman,

More dead than alive.

Swiftly,

But with great care they lowered her down to the shingle shore and laid her in the boat.

And then swiftly,

Very swiftly,

As swiftly as the wind would carry them,

He took her to their village in the harbour.

And he called for the womenfolk for they were wise in the ways of healing.

And the womenfolk took the young woman and they wrapped her in blankets and they took her to a warm place and they tended to her.

Until at last her eyes opened.

Where is my baby?

Bring me my baby.

The first words that she spoke as her eyes darted around the room.

The women looked one to the other because no baby had been brought and they had no baby to give her.

The eldest of the women took the young mother's hand and tenderly spoke to her.

Sweet child.

Alas your baby must have fallen from your arms into the grey sea.

No,

No he is not lost,

He is not lost,

Says the young mother.

I wrapped him and swaddled him and laid him safely on the moss by the side of the path when I went to fetch water.

He is not lost.

And she moved to rise from the bed but she had no strength and she fell to her knees.

And the women gently led her back to the bed and said,

You have no strength my dear,

You must grow strong.

When you are strong you will find your baby.

We will send the menfolk to search.

And they did that and the menfolk searched all along the coast.

The cliffs,

The shore,

Every village.

They spoke to every crofter and every fisherman but none had heard tell or seen sign of a baby left swaddled on the path.

The womenfolk tended to the young mother and they grew fond of her.

And they fed her with clear light soup,

Light but nourishing.

And she grew strong and as soon as she could stand on her feet she left that village.

She bid farewell to the kind people who attended to her.

And they were sad to see her go because they had grown to love this brave young mother.

And she set off on her search and she searched and she searched and she passed through every village and every croft and she asked every crofter and every villager and every fisherman if they had seen her lost baby.

But none had seen sight nor heard tell of a baby left swaddled on the path.

For many,

Many a day she wandered over hill and down dale until her feet were bruised and bleeding and her clothes were in tatters.

And late one evening she arrived at the camp of a band of gypsies and her heart leapt on her breast because she knew that the gypsies travelled far and wide and if any had heard tell of her lost baby it would be them.

And as she drew close to their circle he fell silent.

He looked upon this bedraggled,

Bereft young mother with her bleeding feet and her tattered clothes and they made space for her by their fire and they brought warm water to bathe her feet and they fed her from their own pot.

But when she asked for news of her baby they shook their heads for none had seen sight nor heard tell of a baby left swaddled on the path.

The young mother fell to sobbing for she had nothing in the world except her baby and she loved him dearly.

The gypsies circled together,

Their dark hair and their dark eyes huddled close and they talked together.

Then they came back to the young mother.

We will take you to the grandmother,

The grandmother who knows all there is to know in this world.

And that they did.

They took the young mother in their own wagon and they fed her and they tended to her bruised feet until they came to a great encampment of gypsies and they took her straight to the fire of the old crone and the two women,

The young mother and the old crone,

Sat hand in hand by the fire for a long time.

Then the old crone rose and she took herbs from a pouch by her side and she scattered herbs on the fire.

Then she returned to the side of the young mother and took her hand and looked in her eyes.

The news I have is not good.

Your baby was taken by two fairy women of the she and they have taken him to their dark kingdom and no mortal has ever returned to the light from that dark kingdom.

What must I do?

What must I do?

I must have my baby back,

Says the young mother.

Well,

The she are a greedy folk but they have no art or skill by their own hand.

Everything that comes to them comes through thievery or bargaining.

If you can find something rare,

Something precious,

You may just be able to bargain your way into that kingdom.

But I have nothing.

I have no family.

I have no gold.

I have nothing precious.

How can I find such a thing?

That I cannot help you with.

And what's more,

Even once you have bargained your way into that dark kingdom,

You will need something still more precious to buy back your child.

And with that,

The crew placed their hands on the head of the young mother.

And she asked protection for her.

From harm,

From earth or water,

Air or fire.

She bid her farewell.

And again,

The young mother wondered.

She thought of every story she had ever heard of things precious.

And then she remembered a story of a wondrous white cloak and another of a magical golden harp.

And she knew what she must do.

She set off for that place where she had laid her baby swaddled.

And the soft moss at the side of the path.

And she made her way down to the shore.

And she gathered all the soft white down that had fallen from the breasts of the eider ducks.

And she wove them into a cloak.

And she was protected.

For she was harmed neither by the rocks which did not bruise her.

The sea did not drown her.

The wind did not batter her.

And the sun did not burn her.

Until she had finished weaving that cloak.

And when it was complete,

It looked like a cloud had fallen from the sky.

Then she returned to her search.

And she gathered all the bones of long dead sea creatures.

Bones which had been polished by the sea and bleached by the sun.

And she fashioned them into the shape of a beautiful harp.

And she took her own golden hair.

And she strung that harp.

And when she plucked a note on that harp.

It was so full of love and loss and longing.

That the fairy birds of the air stopped in their flight at the sound of it.

She gathered up the cloak.

And she took the golden harp under her arm.

And she made her way to the entrance of the fairy kingdom.

Where she hid behind a great oak tree and waited and watched.

And she watched the fairy folk of the sea enter a cave in the side of a hill and go into the land of the sea.

And she watched and she waited until a lone fairy who had fallen behind their others appeared.

And then she leapt out waving the cloak.

And the fairy set eyes on the cloak and desired it.

How came ye by that cloak?

Asked the fairy.

I fashioned it with my own hand,

Says the young mother.

What price ask ye for that cloak?

Says the fairy.

It is not for sale,

Says the young mother.

But I will give it to you if you grant me passage into the kingdom.

The deal was struck.

And the fairy grasped out at the cloak.

But the young mother held it back and said,

Only once we are in the kingdom.

The fairy led her by the hand into the cave and by many weaving passages through the hill.

Till they came to a great chamber.

All the fairy folk turned and hissed,

It's a mortal,

It's a mortal.

And they made their way towards the young mother.

But she was cunning.

And she threw the wondrous cloak at the fairy who had guided her.

And all the other fairies immediately lost interest in her and started grasping at the wondrous cloak.

And the young mother continued on her way towards a great throne that sat at the far end of the chamber.

And on that throne sat the fairy king with his crown.

What brings you to my kingdom,

Mortal?

I have something for you,

Says the young mother.

She produced the golden harp.

And the fairy king desired the harp.

How came ye by this harp,

Says the fairy king.

I fashioned it by my own hand,

Says the young mother.

What price ask ye for this harp,

Says the fairy king.

And he sent his minions to bring gold,

A mountain of gold.

But the young mother just shook her head.

I have no need of your gold.

Jewels,

Says the fairy king.

Jewels.

And he sent his minions to bring jewels.

And he piled the jewels,

Diamonds,

Emeralds,

Rubies,

Before the young mother.

I have no need of your jewels.

Then what is your price?

Tell me your price.

I would have my baby who you have held in your kingdom.

The fairy king was displeased at this,

Because he had wanted the baby to serve him in his kingdom.

But he wanted that harp.

And he sent for the baby,

And the baby was brought forth.

And he grasped at the harp.

But the young mother held it close until her baby was at her breast.

Then she handed over the harp.

And the fairy king plucked a note on that harp.

And it was so full of love and loss and longing that all the fairy folk of the she froze where they stood,

Listening to that magical sound.

And it is said that they are still frozen there to this day.

And the young mother was able to escape that place with her baby at her breast.

And she returned to the village in the harbour.

And the people of kindness who attended to her.

And she stayed there for many a happy year with her son.

Reviews

It worked and I fell fast asleep 💤
Will you make more, please.

❤️I fell 💤