Musical Myths and Facts Volume I Part 18

[61] 'C. W. Ritter von Gluck, von Anton Schmid; Leipzig, 1854.' P. 29.

[62] 'Geschichte des Theatres und der Musik in Ca.s.sel,' von W. Lynker; Ca.s.sel, 1865. P. 243.

[63] 'The English Drama and Stage, under the Tudor and Stuart Princes, 1543-1664, ill.u.s.trated by a Series of Doc.u.ments, Treatises, and Poems.

Printed for the Roxburgh Library, London, 1869.' P. 263.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

MUSICAL FAIRIES AND THEIR KINSFOLK.

Fairies notoriously possess great fondness for music. They may be seen in meadows dancing at night by moonlight; and people often find in the morning the traces in the dew, called Fairy Rings. In European countries their favourite musical instruments evidently are the harp and the fiddle. They also often excel as vocalists, and we find them reputed as enchanting singers in almost every part of the world.

Their music resembles, as might be expected, the old tunes of the country-people in the district which they inhabit. The following air of the Irish fairies is copied from T. Crofton Croker's 'Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland:'--

[Music]

This air, which, of course, is said to be of high antiquity, is commonly sung by every skilful narrator of a certain Irish fairy tale to which it belongs, to enhance the effect of the story.

THE FAIRIES OF THE MAORIES.

The fairies of New Zealand are described as a very numerous people, merry, and always singing like crickets. In appearance they are quite different from the Maories, the natives of New Zealand; they rather resemble Europeans, their hair and complexion being remarkably fair.

One day, when Te Kanawa, a chief of one of the Maori tribes, happened to fall in with a troop of fairies on a hill in the Waikato district, he heard them distinctly singing some mysterious verses, which he afterwards repeated to his friends, and which are still preserved in the poetry of the New Zealanders.

Te Kanawa had died before any Europeans arrived in New Zealand, but the details of his encounter with the fairies are not forgotten by the people. They say that he had gone out with his dogs to catch Kiwis,[64]

when night came on and he found himself right at the top of Pukemore, a high hill. There it was where the fairies approached the brave chief, and frightened him almost to death. He lighted a fire, and therewith scared them a little. Whenever the fire blazed up brightly, off went the fairies and hid themselves, peeping out from behind stumps of trees; and when it burnt low, back they came close to it, merrily singing and dancing.

The sudden thought struck the trembling chief that he might perhaps induce the fairies to go away if he gave them the jewels he had about him; so he took off a beautiful little figure carved in green jasper, which he wore as a neck ornament; then he pulled out his jasper ear-drop finely carved, and also his earring made of the tooth of a tiger-shark.

Fearing lest the fairies should touch him, he took a stick, and, fixing it into the ground, hung the precious presents upon it. Directly after the fairies had ended their song they examined the trinkets; and they took the shadow from them, which they handed about from one to another through the whole party. Suddenly they all vanished carrying with them the shadows of the jewels, but leaving behind the jewels themselves.

The verses which Te Kanawa heard the fairies sing are, as has been already said, still known, and the Maories cite them in proof that everything happened to their brave chief, Te Kanawa, as it is related.[65]

ADVENTURES IN THE HIGHLANDS.

The fairies in the Highlands of Scotland generally have their habitations in rugged precipices and rocky caverns, found in districts especially remarkable for wildness of scenery. Their favourite amus.e.m.e.nts are music and dancing, and their reels are said to last sometimes for a whole year and even longer, without intermission.

A peasant from the neighbourhood of Cairngorm, in Strathspey, who with his wife and children had settled in the forest of Glenavon, happened to send his two sons late one evening into the wood to look after some sheep which had strayed. The lads, traversing the wood in all directions, came upon a habitation of fairies from which emanated the sweetest music that one can possibly imagine,--or rather, much sweeter music than anyone can possibly imagine. The younger brother, completely fascinated by its charms, at one leap entered the abode of the fairies, from which, alas! he could not return. The elder brother, compelled to give him up as lost, ran home to his parents to tell them what had occurred.

Now, there lived in the neighbourhood a "wise man," whom they thought best to consult in the matter. This man taught the elder brother some mysterious words of disenchantment, and told him to repair to the same place where the lad had been drawn into the cliff, and to p.r.o.nounce solemnly the words; but this must be done exactly a year after the occurrence of the event. The elder brother most earnestly attended to the injunction. When the year had elapsed, he stood before the cave of the fairies on the same day and precisely at the same hour at which his brother had left him. The music was still going on, and by means of the mysterious words he actually succeeded in liberating his brother, who was still dancing. The daring little boy fully believed that he had been dancing with the fairies for only half-an-hour; for, he said, he had been dancing all the while, and the first reel was not yet over. But, when he arrived at home again, his parents observed at once how much his arms, legs, and his whole body had grown during the year.

Not less remarkable is the following adventure of a village-clergyman told in the Highlands of Scotland.

A parson who enjoyed the reputation of being a very pious man, was returning home to his village one night, after having administered spiritual consolation to a dying member of his flock. The night was far advanced and he had to pa.s.s through a good deal of "uncanny" land; however, he, knowing himself to be a conscientious minister of the gospel, did not fear any spirit. On his reaching the end of the lake which stretches for some distance along the side of the road to the village, he was greatly surprised by suddenly hearing strains of music more melodious than he ever before had heard in his life. Overcome with delight, the pious minister could not refrain from sitting down to listen to the melodious sounds; besides he was very anxious to find out, if possible, the nature and source of the charming music. He had not sat listening many minutes when he could clearly perceive the gradual approach of the music; he also observed a light in the direction from whence the music proceeded, gliding across the lake towards him. Instead of taking to his heels, as any faithless wight would have done, the pious pastor, quite fearless, determined to await the issue of the singular phenomenon. As the light and music drew near, he could at length distinguish an object resembling a human being walking on the surface of the water, attended by a group of diminutive musicians, some of them bearing lights, and others, instruments of music, on which they continued to perform those melodious strains which first attracted his attention. The leader of the band dismissed his attendants, landed on the beach, and afforded the minister the amplest opportunity of examining his appearance.

He was a little primitive-looking, grey-headed man, clad in the most grotesque habit ever seen; indeed, his whole appearance was such as to lead the venerable pastor all at once to suspect his real character. He walked up to the parson, saluted him very gracefully, apologizing for the intrusion. The parson politely returned his compliment, and without further explanation invited him to sit down beside him. The invitation was complied with; upon which the minister proposed the following question:--

"Who art thou, stranger, and from whence?"

To this question, the fairy, with downcast eye, replied that he was one of those beings sometimes called 'Doane Shee,' or 'Men of Peace,' or 'Good Men,' though the reverse of this t.i.tle was perhaps a more befitting appellation for them. Originally angelic in his nature and attributes, and once a sharer in the indescribable joys of the regions of light, he was seduced by Satan to join him in mad conspiracy; and as a punishment for his transgression he was cast down from those regions of bliss, and was now doomed, along with millions of fellow-sufferers, to wander through seas and mountains until the coming of the great day.

What their fate would be thereafter, they could not divine.[66]

THE IMPORTUNATE ELVES.

An almost incredible incident is recorded in Denmark as having occurred to a youth not far from the town of Apenrade in Slesvig. The youth had sat down on a hill, called Hanbierre, and had fallen asleep. Near that hill is a grove of alders,--just the kind of place which one might expect the elves to frequent. The youth did not awaken until midnight.

Presently he heard all around him most ravishing music; and looking about in astonishment, he saw two beautiful girls who were singing and dancing in the moonlight. After a little while they came near to him, and spoke to him. But he, knowing that it is dangerous to converse with elves, remained silent. They asked him many questions to induce him to speak; and when he still persisted in not answering them, they threatened him, singing--"Hearken, O youth! Wilt thou not speak to us to-night before the c.o.c.k crow, thy silver-shafted knife shall surely lay thy heart to rest!"--Again they sang strains most sweet and ravishing.

He could no longer resist, and was just on the point of speaking to them, when, fortunately for him, the c.o.c.k crowed, and they vanished.

From this event the hill is called Hanbierre, or Hahnenberg, which means 'c.o.c.k's Hill.'

BAD SPIRITS.

A short extract from a discussion on Spirits, written about three hundred years ago by an English inquirer into their nature and propensities, may find a place here. This description occurs in a work by Thomas Nash, Gentleman, ent.i.tled 'Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Deuill; Describing the ouer-spreading of Vice, and the suppression of Vertue; Pleasantly interlac'd with variable delights; and pathetically intermixt with conceipted reproofes. London, 1592.' It does not clearly appear whether the author's remarks are intended to refer especially to the Spirits of England; but this probably is the case.

True, he describes them as more ill-tempered than those on the Continent are generally said to be; but this may perhaps be merely owing to the gloominess of the English climate. Howbeit, these troublesome Spirits are most likely not so bad as we find them here depicted; for, is it not a well-known fact, also mentioned by Thomas Nash, Gentleman, that they love music?

"The spirits of the earth keepe, for the most part, in forrests and woods, and doo hunters much noyance; and sometime in the broad fields, where they lead trauelers out of the right way, or fright men with deformed apparitions, or make run mad through excessiue melancholy, like Aiax Telamonious, and so proue hurtful to themselves, and dangerous to others: of this number the chiefe are Samaab and Achymael, spirits of the east, that haue no power to doo great harm, by reason of the vnconstancie of their affections. The vnder-earth spirits are such as lurk in dens and little cauernes of the earth, and hollow crevices of mountaines, that they may dyue into the bowels of the earth at their pleasures: these dig metals and watch treasures, which they continually transport from place to place that non should haue vse of them: they raise windes that vomit flames, and shake the foundation of buildins; they daunce in rounds in pleasant lawnds, and greene medowes, with noises of musick and minstralsy, and vanish away when any comes nere them: they will take vpon them any similitude but that of a woman, and terrefie men in the likeness of dead mens ghosts in the night time."

THE MUSICIAN AND THE DWARFS.

The following adventure was first related by a jolly young German, who said he was acquainted with a friend of the very person to whom it occurred.

Once upon a time, a poor musician who lived in the neighbourhood of Hildesheim, an old town in the former kingdom of Hanover, went home late at night from a lonely mill, where he had been playing dance-tunes at a christening festivity. The mill is still extant. Its name is Die Mordmuhle (The Murder Mill), probably because something dreadful may have happened there years ago. His way led him past a cliff in which there was a dwarf's hole. When he cast a glance at the hole, he saw, to his amazement, sitting before it a dwarf, not more than three feet high.

Scarcely had he recovered from his first fright, when suddenly he felt himself seized by invisible hands and drawn under ground many miles deep into the mountain. All this occurred in a moment's time. Immediately the poor musician found that he had been transported into a beautiful hall, illuminated with many thousand lights of various brilliant colours. The flooring of the hall was of pure silver, and the walls were all of the purest gold: the chandeliers were of emeralds and diamonds.

Presently the dwarfs desired the musician to play his best tunes. While playing, he heard quite unmistakably the little folks dancing to his music; he also heard them coughing, giggling, and laughing; but he did not see any being except the dwarf who had taken him there. After a little while the same dwarf brought in a bottle of exquisitely fine wine, and placed it before the musician. When the poor fiddler had helped himself repeatedly from the bottle, he began to feel more at his ease, and became a little talkative.

"Well, my good master," he said, "I am playing and playing here one tune after another, and hear all kinds of noises; but I see no Christian soul but yourself: could I not have just a look at the gentlefolks whom I have the honour of serving with my music?"

To this sensible request the dwarf replied: "By all means! There is no danger in that. Just take my hat and put it on thy head."

As soon as the musician had placed the dwarf's large round hat on his head, he saw the hall crowded with thousands of little pigmy ladies and gentlemen, very smartly dressed, who were promenading up and down, bowing and curtseying to each other; and with them were some little children, certainly not bigger than a thumb. After having played a country-dance to conclude the ball, the musician was dismissed, but not before the dwarf who had brought him there had filled his pockets with wood shavings, of which a large heap lay stored up just near the entrance of the hall.

"Of what use is that stuff to me!" thought the musician; and the first thing he did, when he found himself again free in the open air, was to empty his pockets and throw all the shavings into the road. Heartily tired he reached his home. On the following morning he put his hand into his coat pocket to ascertain if perchance any of the shavings remained; when, Lo! what should he draw out, but a piece of the purest gold!

Directly he set off again to the road where he had disenc.u.mbered himself of the shavings the night before. But he could find nothing; all traces of the treasure had disappeared.[67]

THE LITTLE FOLKS.

A young girl who was in service at a farm-house in the province of Schleswig in Germany, had to work daily so very hard that she became at last quite dissatisfied with her lot.