The idea for this novel began, somewhat sadly, with the rather unpleasant case of Bridget Cleary, an Irish woman who was burned as a fairy changeling in 1895. Hers wasn’t an isolated case, though it was one of the most recent and shocking deaths connected with the idea of changelings. Of course, fairy beliefs are perhaps rooted deepest and linger longest in the Celtic countries. The word “Celtic” comes from the Greek “keltoi,” with “kel” meaning hidden—so they were the original “hidden people.” The name Kelthorpe in this book is a little nod in that direction.
Yorkshire has its own tales of the folk, however. The name Pudding Pye Hill is borrowed from an ancient barrow near Thirsk, a mound which was said to have been raised by the fairies. Legend has it that if you run around it nine times, climb to the top and stick a knife in the ground, you will be able to hear their revelry within. Maybe one day I’ll try it. There are also ancient tales of farm labourers stepping into fairy rings and being stolen by the folk; probably a grand excuse for an unexplained absence.
Several of my sources tell of the railways sweeping such beliefs away, and yet they persisted in forgotten corners of the land, or even not so forgotten: as late as 1917, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle proclaimed his belief in the fairies said to have been caught on camera at Cottingley, near Bradford in West Yorkshire. In his treatise The Coming of the Fairies he included several accounts of people’s sightings of the little folk.
It may surprise many that cunning folk such as the wise woman were operating as late as the first half of the twentieth century. They did indeed gain much of their income from simple charms, herbal remedies or finding lost things; using iron goggles to view the fairies or staring into a bird’s yellow eye to draw out the jaundice are based on real examples of their art.
And now to sources. The lines from William Butler Yeats in the epigraph are from a lesser-known version of his poem “The Stolen Child,” as published in his book Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry. I preferred the mention of woodland to the more usual “waters and the wild” for the contrast with Charlotte Mary Mew’s rather more terrifying wood in the extract from her poem “The Changeling.” The lines at the end of the novel are taken from the same poem by Mew, whilst the verses from Yeats are from “Into the Twilight.” All Things Bright and Beautiful was written by Cecil Frances Alexander.
The sharp-eyed will spot that Helena’s “Look, Lizzie” song in chapter twenty-eight is from Christina Rossetti’s poem “Goblin Market.” I have of course quoted in several places from Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and from the traditional folk songs A Beautiful Boy, My Bonny Yorkshire Lass and The Poor Old Weaver’s Daughter. The Yorkshire Garland website at www.yorkshirefolksong.net was invaluable for setting me on their trail.
For those who would like to delve more deeply into some of the subjects touched on in the novel, here are some of the books or websites I found particularly interesting during my research: