AWAY with the Faeries

By Mary Ann Benbow

Away with the Faeries, it means that you are not quite here or your mind is somewhere else. But what would you say if I told you that folklore is filled with first-hand accounts of people who really have been away with the Faeries? These accounts range from the abduction of babies, to young women who have found themselves scooped up by passing faery men on wild black faery men and ridden away with. Handsome young me who has been seduced and led away by faery women.A Scottish minister from Aberfoyle imprisoned in an ancient pine tree, because he betrayed them by writing a book about them . A witch who attended a faery funeral and came face to face with her own missing cat. These fascinating accounts of first hand faery abductions and more can be discovered in this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Ann Benbow
• Release date: Apr 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215112892

Mary Ann Benbow

My real name is not Mary Ann Benbow, these are taken from both my maternal and paternal grandmothers. Two wonderful Celtic ladies gave me my roots and a sense of belonging to an ancient race. From them, I inherited my love of Celtic spirituality, and the ability to see and communicate with the gentry or the good people. During my lessons at school, a teacher would often accuse me of being away with the fairies, if only they had known that I often was.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

A LITTLE ON THE FAERIES

Where dips the rocky highland,

Of sleuth wood in the lake,

There lies a rocky island,

Where flapping herons wake.

The drowsy water rats,

There we’ve hidden our faery vats,

Full of berries,

And our reddest stolen cherries,

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild,

Take a faery by the hand,

For the worlds more full of weeping

Than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses,

The dim grey sands with light,

Far off by furthest Rosses,

We foot it all the night.

Weaving olden dances

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight:

To and fro we leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

While the world is full of troubles,

And anxious in its sleep.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery hand in hand,

For the worlds more full of weeping, than you can

Understand.

Where the wandering water gushes

From the hills above Glen Car,

In pools among the rushes

That scarce could bath a star,

We seek the slumbering trout

And whispering in their ears

Give them unquiet dreams:

Leaning softly out

From ferns that drop their tears,

Over the young streams.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the worlds more full of weeping than you

Can understand.

Away with us, he’s going,

The solemn-eyed:

He’ll hear no more the lowing

Of the calves on the warm hillside.

Or the kettle on the hob.

Sing peace into his breast

Or see the brown mice bob

Round and round the oatmeal chest.

For he comes to the human child,

To the waters and the wild.

Take a faery, hand in hand,

For the worlds more full of weeping,

Than he can understand.

—WB Yeats:

The Stolen Child

Faery beliefs are worldwide and are certainly not new. Long before folklore became a fashionable pastime, word of mouth passed stories and warnings down through the ages. These tales were certainly never meant to entertain children. They were dire warnings of what you could expect if you were foolish enough to get involved with them. Our ancestors lived alongside them for centuries, worked with them, and bargained with them, often to their regret. At no time did they tell us that ‘Faeries could be true’. Neither did they tell us that ‘They might be true’. They told us that they are true, as real as you and I.

Our ancestor’s belief in faeries was almost a part of their DNA. It was as much a part of them as the colour of their hair or eyes. They are often referred to as the good people or the gentry. It was considered unlucky to call them by their name. Offerings were left for them to try and buy favours or special treatment. Faeries were feared. Walt Disney had not been born then, and neither had Tinkerbell. These feys were tough, changeable and definitely reactive, still pretty much as they are today. Their nature hasn’t changed so much over the centuries, but ours has. Today, many people simply see them as either a myth and not real, or the other side of the coin is shiny things going around sprinkling fairy dust. One belief is as dangerous as the other. Faeries are real, and furthermore, their lineage is so ancient that it goes back further than our own.

The word faerie originates from the Latin word fate. According to folklore, faeries are said to hate this name, preferring to be called The Gentry or the good neighbours. Every culture throughout the entire world has its own beliefs in these mystical beings. One of the most dominant belief systems is that of the Celtic spiritual path, some of which have been absorbed into the Christian faith. They descended from the God-like people, the Tuatha De Danann, who had the power of invisibility and who descended into the faerie hills as a place of safety. From this ancient line arose the demigods, gods and goddesses, and the beings that we call faerie.

Some other explanations described the fey as the souls of unbaptised pagans and babies left to serve as guardians of the dead, living in another world. A place that exists between the living and the dead. They have the power to take people away, and if they do, they will rarely be seen again. Others think that they are the fallen angels cast out of heaven with Satan, after a failed rebellion. Yet, others believe that they are nature spirits, attached to a place or to the four elements—earth, air, fire and water. And still, some believe that they belong to a primitive race of super beings that were simply forgotten about. Usually invisible to most humans, unless you are clairvoyant, they are best seen at dusk. Much has been made of their invisibility, but it really is not hard to explain. In scientific terms, they move at the speed of light. Far too quick to be seen by the human eye, but animals can see them and even young children.

Some people believe that they are fallen angels. This idea and the belief that Sidhe themselves are descended from The Tuath De Dannan simply don’t and long before offer up any real evidence of this theory. Simply, the fey were the very first inhabitants of this earth. They were here long before we were and long before religion. They are not the fallen of anything. They are mighty beings that are capable of great kindness and also great cruelty.

The Latin word Fata, meaning fate, has also been described in meaning as:

Lashing their tails,

They trod and hustled her,

Elbowed and jostled her,

Claw’d with their nails,

Barking, mewling, hissing and mocking,

Tore her gown and soil’d her stocking,

Twitch’d her hair out by the roots,

Stamped upon her tender feet,

Held her hands and squeezed their fruits,

Against her mouth to make her eat.

White and golden Lizzie stood,

Like a lily in a flood,

Like a rock and blue-veined stone,

Lash’d by tides obstreperously,

Like a beacon left alone

In a hoary roaring sea

Sending up a golden fire

Like a fruit-crowned orange tree,

White with blossoms honey sweet,

Sore beset by wasp and bee,

Like a royal virgin town

Topp’d with gilded dome and spire

Close beleaguered by a fleet,

Mad to tug her standard down.

One may lead a horse to water,

Twenty cannot make him drink,

Though the goblins cuffed and caught her,

Coaxed and fought her,

Bullied and besought her,

Scratched her, pinched her black as ink,

Kick’d and knock’d her,

Mauled and mocked her,

Lizzie uttered not a word,

Would not open lip from lip,

Lest they would cram a mouthful in,

But laughed in heart to feel the drip,

Of juice that syruped all her face,

And lodged in dimples of her chin,

And streaked her neck which quaked like curd,

At last, the evil people,

Worn out by her resistance,

Flung back her penny, kick’d their fruit,

Along whichever road they took,

Not leaving root or stone or shoot,

Some writhed into the ground,

Some dived into the brook,

With ring and ripple,

Some scudded in the gale without a sound,

Some vanished in the distance.

In a smart ache, tingle,

Lizzie went her way;

Knew not if it was night or day,

Sprang up the bank, tore through the furze,

Threaded copse and dingle,

And heard her penny jingle,

Bouncing in her purse,

Its bounce was music to her ear,

She ran and ran,

As if she feared some goblin curse,

Or something worse,

But not one goblin scurried after,

Nor was she prick’d by fear;

The kind heart made her windy paced,

That urged her home quite out of breath with haste,

And inward laughter.

She cried ‘Laura’ up the garden,

‘Did you miss me?

Come and kiss me

Never mind my bruises,

Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices,

Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,

Goblin pulp and goblin dew,

Eat me, drink me, love me;

Laura, make much of me:

For your sake, I have braved the glen,

And had to do with goblin men’

Her lips began to scorch,

The juice was wormwood to her tongue,

She loathed the feast,

Writhing as one possessed, she leap’d

And sung,

Rent her robes, and wrung,

Her hands in lamentable haste,

And beat her breast,

Her locks streamed like a torch

Borne by a racer at full speed,

Or like the mane of horses in full flight,

Or like an eagle when she stems the light

Straight towards the sun,

Or like a caged thing freed,

Or like a flying flag when armies run.

Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart,

Met the fire smouldering there,

And overbore its lesser flame,

She gorged on bitterness without a name,

Ah! fool to choose such part

Of soul-consuming care,

Sense fail’d in the mortal strife,

Like the watchtower in a town,

Which an earthquake shatters down,

Like a lightening stricken mast,

Like a wind-uprooted tree,

Spun about,

Like a foam topp’d waterspout,

Cast down headlong into the sea,

She fell at last,

Pleasure past and anguished past.

Days, weeks, months, years,

Afterwards when both were wives,

With children of their own,

Their mother’s hearts beset by fears,

Their lives bound up in tender lives:

Laura would call the little ones,

And tell them of her early prime,

Those pleasant days long gone,

Of not returning time,

Would talk about the haunted glen,

The wicked quaint fruit merchant men,

Their fruits like honey to the throat,

But poison to the blood.

Men sell not such in any town,

Would tell them how her sister stood

In deadly peril to do her good,

And win the fiery antidote,

Then joining hand with little hand,

Would bid them join together,

‘For there is no friend like a sister,

In calm or stormy weather,

To cheer one on a tedious way,

To fetch one if one goes astray,

To lift one if one totters down,

To strengthen whilst one stands.

—Christina Georgina Rossett

Their names are numerous, and so is their appearance. These vary according to the country they live in and the culture. Their names are also top secret because knowing their names gives great power over them. This applies to us also. If meeting them always use a nickname. They will almost certainly know your real name but would never be rude enough to use it against your wishes. Fey often try to take something that belongs to you. It might be something quite costly, or it might only be a strand of your hair. This is not to harm you in any way. It is used so that they can connect with you more easily if they need you. This is one of the times to ignite your intuition. If any of these processes disturb you, then you can ask them politely to bring your things back.

What faeries look like depends on the faery tribes you want to interact with. For example, the faeries of the earth belong to the ‘Dwarf race’. These faeries inhabit forests and woodland. They are between two feet and three feet tall, short and square with nut-brown skin. They easily blend into the forest, trees and fauna. Some Germanic legends place them as miners, searching for gold and gems Dryads, tree spirits are as tall as the tree they inhabit. They like to be touched and feel your warmth. If you are a tree huger, you already know this, but if you have never touched a tree, then please try it. You will be very surprised at its response. Sidhe, Celtic faeries, are now spread all over the world. These are faeries that are closest to us, in looks and stature—tall between six and seven ft, extremely beautiful and have been referred to as the shining ones because of the light that emanates from them. A warrior race that can be a friend or a foe. These more than any other faery race, regularly seek out the human race. The smaller faeries of land and air often appear as flashes of light just outside your vision. All faeries can shapeshift, so it pays to remain open-minded if you are trying to work with them. Always expect the unexpected.

Faeries are each as individual as we are. Just as no two fingerprints are alike, no two faeries are alike either. They are sentient beings, with their own personalities, likes and dislikes. They can be kind, cruel, helpful or a hindrance. They can be courtly, or they can be course. Your best friend or your worst nightmare. They can feel pain, their own or others, and they can express and feel anger. They do eat but do not have intestines as we do. They take the essence or life force from food and drink, which helps them to recharge. Many faeries can and do help humans in their everyday life. They do this by either leaving clues around that you cannot fail to notice or by entering your dreams and actually telling you what is needed to be done to resolve any particular problem.

Faeries then live pretty much as we do. Many have homes and raise children, they have certain work to do, and they celebrate and come together as friends and family do here. They also grieve deeply when someone they love dies. This is perhaps an even worse loss than ours because faeries are said to have no souls. And while they are very long-lived, once they die, that is the end for them. They love to dance. Stamping their small feet on the ground creates a vibration of energy that feeds mother earth, something like an electrical charge. They love to play tricks on us humans. Hiding things we need, often these things disappear forever. They also love to confuse travellers, leading them around in circles. They even watch tv with us. They are mesmerised by the things they see us do, both in life and on television. They can come and go into our world through portals, which they guard very fiercely. Once into our world, they will travel along ancient faerie paths or ley lines, paths that have been used by them for centuries, these paths can sometimes be called corpse paths, because they were also used to carry the coffins to their final resting place. By no means do not all faeries are hostile to humans, some do actually like us and will help us if we ask. They are however very sensitive, and the slightest throwaway remark can cause them great offence. Also, you should never say ‘thank you ‘ to a faerie. It offends them and makes them feel like paid employees. Practice saying alternatives in case you ever meet them. ‘I am grateful, is acceptable, or much obliged’, is another one. Think of alternatives, just in case you ever need one.

Faery is nature. They are as unpredictable and as changeable as nature itself. Imagine a fine summer day, the sun shines, the bees sing and you go out to a favourite place to have a picnic. Your eyes close in the warmth of the sun. Let us stop there for a minute because the sun continues to shine and the mercury continues to rise. Soon, it becomes unbearable, and your skin starts to blister. The children are crying, and their tender shin turns red and hurts them. The heat continues on its way, higher and higher until eventually, fire start to spring into life, and you find yourself trapped. Nature is very unpredictable, and crazy things can happen whenever we are out in it. We can hazard a guess how it will respond because of our long-standing relationship with it. But we can never be certain, and that is also the case with faery. We can never be absolutely certain of them, simply because of their mercurial nature.

Fey is well known for playing games, and some of their tricks can be extremely annoying. Apart from hiding objects, they also teleport objects, and these items can suddenly appear or disappear in front of your eyes. They consider this great fun, and if you get frustrated or angry, then they like it even more. Keeping calm and pretending disinterest can de-fuse these games very quickly. It is your reaction that they want after all. Don’t react, and they soon become bored. Their games are not limited to the waking dimension