The fairy folk of popular folklore are now regarded
as quaint myths suitable for small children, benevolent dainty creatures
with gossamer wings.
Indeed the term ‘fairy’ has become something of an insult in modern
slang, implying someone is effeminate or camp in a feeble sort of
way. But fairies have not always been regarded as such silly, inconsequential
creatures.
The Victorians bear a lot of the responsibility for sanitising the
dark roots of these ancient legendary ‘Little People’ with their mania
for sentimentality and innocence. Typical were ‘the Cottingley Fairies’,
photographed during the First World War in the English village of
that name cavorting with the two young Wright sisters. They looked
like every little girl’s dream companions, darling little creatures
with butterfly wings. Arthur Conan Doyle, the inventor of fictional
detective Sherlock Holmes, had a deep interest in the paranormal and
wrote articles supporting the veracity of the magical manifestation.
It was a hoax, but illustrated what most modern children (and some
adults) thought the Little People should look like. |
A whimsical Edwardian representation showing little of the Redcap's
original malevolent nature
|
Not everybody saw quite such a sugary
version of the fairy folk. The tormented Victorian artist Richard
Dadd, who was committed to the notorious Bedlam asylum for killing
his own father in a bout of madness, painted exquisite fairy scenes
while incarcerated. As you might expect from such a disturbed imagination,
Dadd’s version of fairyland was far darker than that found in children’s
storybooks. Perhaps, through his madness (a condition much associated
with the fairy folk), Dadd was glimpsing a more authentic vision of
these capricious creatures.
Folklorists generally agree that fairies are remnants of pre-Christian
European legend and lore, who survived into the Middle Ages as local
tales told in peasant hunts around the camp-fire. And many of these
stories were distressing even horrific, cautionary tales of warning
for those tempted to enter the magical world of fairy, for the inhabitants
could be mischievous or even malevolent. |
A 19th Centuary image of a vampiric fiend reflecting the Redcap ancient
origins
|
Few fairy folk illustrate this better
than the Redcap, a quasi-vampiric entity whose fearsome habits make
it closer to a demon than the playful gossamer-winged pixies that
usually come to mind when you hear the word ‘fairy’. Of Celtic origin,
the Redcap myth was strongest on the Anglo-Scottish border where this
loathsome creature haunted scenes of violent tragedy such as battlefields
or ruined castles. Appearing as a small, twisted old man with long,
talon-like fingernails, the creature was distinguished by its crimson
cap. The Redcap maintained the colour of its treasured headgear by
dipping it in fresh human blood – either that of the dead or dying
upon the battlefield, or if such easy prey was unavailable, they were
not above slaying lonely travellers to obtain the grisly dye that
they craved. Unsurprisingly, many clergymen regarded such creatures
as little less than devils, and holy water and the sign of the cross
were supposed to be effective in fending them off.
Other Medieval theologians regarded the fairy folk as creatures lacking
souls that were somewhere between angels and mortal men. Regardless
of the scholarly opinion on their exact nature, those among our ancestors
who believed in the existence of the Little People, regarded them
with both fascination and fear for they could be as brutal as they
could be beautiful. Few eerie creatures illustrate this as graphically
as the Redcap, a violent entity who was anything but a ‘fairy’ in
the modern sense of the word! |
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