River Sprites
All bodies of water, fresh or salt, still or moving, are inhabited by faery beings and, as a result, can be perilous places to linger or to play. In the Scottish Highlands, as will be described, the conjunction of fate and liminal states is even more highly developed in the character of the banshee or washerwoman.
Sprites of River & Stream
The risk of capture that exists in the sea and around lakes and ponds exists just as strongly around rivers as well, so that it is possible to distinguish throughout Britain a species of being that we may call river sprites, so as to distinguish them from the meremaids of springs, wells, and pools as well as from the merfolk of the ocean (although, as you will see, the word “mermaid” is often applied for the sake of convenience to beings who aren’t mermaids in the normal, everyday sense).
British River Sprite Types
Very typical of these freshwater sprites is “Peg Powler,” found at Piercebridge on the River Tees. She will drag incautious children from the banks under the choppy waters of this river. The foam on its surface is called Peg Powler’s suds, or cream, depending upon how agitated the river has become. There is, too, Peg o’Nell of the River Ribble in Lancashire—a being who lives in Peggy’s Well near the river and emerges to claim a life every seven years—unless a small animal or bird has been sacrificed to her. There is a similar sprite haunting the stepping-stones at Bungerley near Clitheroe, which has been seen in several forms and which, just like Peg o’Nell, takes a life every seven years. The River Gipping in Suffolk, the Derwent in Derbyshire, and the Dart in Devon are all believed to be infested by deadly sprites; the Dart is said to claim a victim annually.
An anomalous creature that lives on the River Trent in the English Midlands deserves a mention here. Between Wildsworth and Owston the river makes a very sharp bend, a place known as “Jean Yonde” or “Jenny Hurn.” Here there lives a sprite called Jenny on Boggard. He’s described as a tiny man with long hair and a seal’s face, who rows from shore to shore in a boat that resembles a piedish, using oars that look like teaspoons. At other times, Jenny is present but is invisible. Instead, boaters have reported feeling his craft bumping against theirs at times when the river appears to be empty. As his name demonstrates, Jenny might be regarded as a type of boggart (see Chapter 9), but his close link to the waterway sets him apart from other bogies of that type. Other unnamed bogies also lurk along the Trent, beings who may be detected either by their smell or by their bite—because they appear as midges. Further to the east, in the East Anglian Fens region, another “faery” man is known called the Tiddy Mun. He, too, is closely tied to the waterways, over which he has some kind of control, and might best be thought of as a river sprite.114
Along the Welsh Borders, rivers are haunted by Nicky Nicky Nye who, like Jenny Greenteeth, pulls in unwary children; near Wool in Dorset, the Frome is haunted by a “water nymph” who has lured at least one small boy into the river. Many of these sprites are female, it will be observed, just like the meremaids of standing water. This is the case in Scotland too. On the River Conan, a tall woman in green with a withered, scowling face emerges from the water at certain fording places and points and beckons at passing travellers. If they respond, they will be dragged under no matter how strong they are. There is a comparable lady in green and white who has attacked night travellers by the Lynn Burn at Lynturk.115
The Scottish ballad “The Mermaid of Galloway” recounts a story very similar to that of Clerk Colvill outlined in the last chapter. A “mermaid” sat singing on the banks of the River Nith near Cowhill Tower every new moon night. Her voice was seductive but deadly and she lured to her the young heir of Cowhill. Overwhelmed by the touch of her lips and hands, he fell asleep in her lap—upon which she bound him with her magic before pulling him below the waves of the Nith.116
A comparable “mermaid” was known at Dalbeattie Burn who, just like that at Cowhill, would sit on a rock combing her long hair on moonlit nights. As was the case with the marine mermaid at Knockdolion (see Chapter 1), a local woman objected to the sprite’s presence and had the rock removed; in revenge for which, the creature killed the woman’s child. The feud continued in this case, and the bereaved mother went on to have the stream polluted with weeds and soil until the sprite was driven away. Nevertheless, she departed cursing the family to be childless.117
Also in Scottish rivers lives the ceasg, a creature of great beauty (once you have reconciled yourself to the fact that she is half woman and half salmon). Her hair is described as being “long and flossy,” which I take to mean that it is very pale and silky—the name itself signifies a tuft of wool, linen, or silk.118 There are some stories of men marrying ceasgs, and of the maritime skills that their offspring seemed to inherit. Regardless of her physical charms, though, she is highly dangerous—as likely to consume a person as not, although this maighdean na tuinne (maid of the wave) can grant you three wishes if she’s been caught.119
From Wales come reports of the creature called the llamhigyn y dwr, “the water leaper.” This beast is conceived as a giant toad with wings and it lives primarily on sheep that have slipped from the banks. However, it will also break fishing lines and then shriek fearfully, paralysing fishermen with terror so that they can be dragged under the water without a struggle. There is also brief reference to a so-called “torrent spectre” that controls the Welsh mountain streams; this seems to be some form of the cyhyraeth, who’ll be discussed later. She (or possibly he—the sources differ on gender) is said to collect large rocks as ballast for when she flies above storms; when she returns to the mountain cave where she lives, she drops these boulders and they form the bed of mountain torrents. It has also been claimed that at least one “mermaid” (morforwyn) has been seen in the River Conwy at Trefriw, some miles inland from the sea. Whether she’s a true mermaid gone astray or a freshwater sprite is unclear.120
On the Isle of Man there is a pool along the Ballacoan stream, which is inhabited by a nyker, a water faery. A beautiful cow girl was once abducted into the river by this sprite. People heard her calling her cows near the pool, but then a mist descended, a voice was heard replying to her calls—and she was never seen again. Another nyker, in the form of a horse or pony, or sometimes a handsome young man, is known to haunt the pond called Nikkesen’s Pool in Lonan Parish. In male form, the nikkesen sings a beautiful but mournful song in an unknown tongue, with which he tries to tempt girls into the water with him. If a girl enters his pool, her body is never found again; instead, on moonlit nights, he may be seen near the pool dancing in a circle with his victims. As a last remark, it’s interesting to note that the word “nyker” is a good Old English term for a water faery, which, regrettably, has been entirely lost in the modern language—yet it has been preserved on the Celtic island of Man and, I suspect, in Wales, in the form of “Nicky Nicky Nye.”121
Interactions with Sprites
It was said that a sure way of detecting the presence of river sprites was to look for rings and bubbles on the water surface. Extreme caution would be needed if these telltale signs were seen, for then the risk was great that attempts would be made to snatch women and children away to act as the creatures’ servants. Another trick tried from time to time by the sprites was to take on the appearance of domestic implements in the hope that a passerby would pick the item up and so be trapped. In one case, the sprite was disguised as a wooden beetle (a mallet), to which a woman of Teviotdale took a fancy and carried home. During the night, her window sprang open and a voice started to call her name. Fortunately for her, she instinctively blessed herself when she heard the ghostly voice—at which the beetle became animated and flew out of the window. Had she pronounced the blessing over the item when she first picked it up, we are assured by the storyteller that all would have been well.122
Given the perilous nature of many river sprites, it’s unsurprising to learn that, across Britain, people for centuries have made offerings to appease them. They can dispense great fertility and prosperity upon a neighbourhood and, accordingly, salt was offered to the River Tweed to ensure a good catch of fish each year. On the Scottish island of Unst, people would go to the head of the Yelaburn and throw down three stones to guarantee good health.123
If a person drowned in the River Dee in Scotland, the body could be recovered by casting an item of the drowned person’s clothing on the water; the next day, the corpse would be found, wrapped in the item offered. On the River Don at Inverurie dropping biscuits on the water was practiced in the same way: wherever the biscuit sank, there the body lay.124
Loireag
The Scottish water sprite called the loireag is a strange amalgam of traits. Despite her riverine origin, she is especially known as “patron” of cloth making and is insistent upon the strict maintenance of traditional practices in the craft—a very human and domestic interest. In the past, when all cloth was homemade, women would appease the loireag with offerings of milk—in default of which she would suck the goats, sheep, and cows dry—and in this she behaves very much like hobs and similar more domestic faeries whenever they are aggrieved. Generally, the loireag is described as small, plaintive, cunning, and stubborn.125
The loireag shares certain characteristics with other Highland beings, such as the glaistig and the urisk who will be discussed in Chapter 8. They all have connections to human domestic affairs, as well as a taste for milk and cream, which might have justified dealing with them all together later under the heading of “Hobs.” At the same time, they all have links to running water, which might have made it appropriate to deal with them all here. As a rule, too, these creatures are female, which might have justified treating them all with the hags. The truth is that, for many of these faery beings, boundary crossing identities are the norm. Exactly the same could be said of the “banshees” that I’m about to describe. They could have been included with the hags, too, but their special association with flowing freshwater persuaded me to deal with them in this chapter.
Washerwomen
Most people have heard of the banshee, the sprite who predicts death within a family by her wailing. There is a special form of this faery being called the bean-nighe who’s inextricably linked with rivers and fords—so much so, in fact, that it’s said in the Hebrides that her feet can look like a duck’s, being red and webbed.
Bean-nighe
The bean-nighe, the washer of death shrouds, is found on the Hebridean Islands. She can be seen after dusk at eerie river pools or fords and sometimes at remote lochs, and she is regarded as a warning to all of some imminent mortality. She will be sighted, at night or early in the morning, washing linen or folding it and beating it on underwater stones. Her washing predicts death, but unlike the banshee, her knowledge of the future is not limited to just one family or clan but to the whole of the community.
The bean-nighe can become very absorbed in her work, washing the “death clothes” and singing her dirge, making it possible for daring humans to sneak up upon her. Opinion is divided on her response to humans approaching her in this manner. In some parts of the Scottish Highlands she is regarded as friendly and not inevitably linked to death; others say that hurt always follows the bean-nighe, although it may not be her doing, and that merely seeing her may bring illness or prove fatal. The bean-nighe can often get agitated if she is seen; in one case, a boy who got too close was violently dipped in the river for his presumption.
In Perthshire it’s said that, if you see the bean-nighe, you should try to creep up behind her and ask who she’s washing for—indeed, to fail to do so might prove fatal. She won’t be able to escape until she has answered your questions and, if you get between her and the river, as the price of her release she may grant you three wishes (although it’s said that any wealth acquired this way will seldom benefit the recipient). The possibility that the bean-nighe can be surprised and made to bestow favours led to the Highland saying that a successful man “has got the better of the nigheag.” Despite her apparent reluctance to disclose information in many cases, there is an account of her actively pursuing and stopping a young man of Houghgeary, near Uist, so that she might announce his fate to him—which was drowning at half tide at Sgeir Rois before the year was out. Just as she herself can’t be avoided, once the events are predicted, the victim will not be able to escape them.126
Although the bean-nighe is easily recognised by the fact that she’s washing, there are other identifying features. Some observers say that she has one nostril, one large tooth, and a single webbed foot, but she can also shape-shift and appear as a raven or crow. In Perthshire, the bean-nighe is described as “small and rotund,” dressed in the telltale emerald green of faery, whilst one seen on Eriskay was dressed oddly, if rather prosaically, in a topcoat with a large brooch.127
On Skye, the washerwoman is squat like a shrunken, miserable child; if she’s met, she’ll tell you your fate as long as you answer her questions truthfully. If this bean-nighe sees you first, though, she’ll render you powerless. On the islands of Mull and Tiree, the bean has exaggeratedly pendant breasts, which she throws over her shoulders when she is busy with her washing. If you’re able to approach her silently and place one of her nipples in your mouth, you may claim her as your foster-mother, to which she’ll reply that you are in need of such assistance and will then be bound to answer any question you might ask her. If the clothes of a foe are being washed, and the enquirer doesn’t intervene, that person will be sure to die; if the clothes are those of the witness or a friend’s, the bean-nighe can be told to stop her work, and this will save the wearer. In Inverness-shire only those “under the shadow of death” are able to see the washerwoman. She is said to be the ghost of a woman who died young in childbirth, leaving behind unwashed clothes. Because of this, she will continue to wash until the date of her natural death has passed.128
One encounter with the bean-nighe intriguingly created a second portent of death. A man called Hugh, the day before a battle, spotted the bean at her washing, crept up and placed her nipple in his mouth, requesting foreknowledge of his fate. He was told what he asked, but in a roundabout way. The bean told him that, if his wife served butter with his breakfast the next day, there would be victory. The man’s spouse did not do so—as Hugh had anticipated would be the case—and he went into battle prepared for death. His head was severed during the fighting, but this did not kill him: instead, he remounted his horse and has, ever since, acted as a premonition of death for the Maclaine family of Lochbuie.
There is one story in which a man attempted to escape the fate predicted for him by a bean-nighe. A ghillie of the MacDonalds on the Isle of Skye saw the bean washing a shroud at Benbecula. He crept up and seized her, demanding his three wishes, which were to know whom she washed for, to marry his heart’s desire, and always to have the loch near his home full of seaweed. She told him that the clan chief was doomed to die and that this would mean he would leave Skye forever. Displeased with the answer, the ghillie threw the shroud into the water and stormed off to deliver the bad news to his laird. The MacDonald chief was dismayed, but in response he acted quickly: he killed a calf, made a coracle with its hide, and then left the island forever, paddling out to sea alone. The life of the cow and the flight may have been intended to break the faery’s spell, or it may be that the chief simply chose to die on his own terms and alone.129
Caointeach
On the islands of Skye, Jura, Tiree, and Islay, and in Argyllshire, the equivalent being to the bean is called the caoineacheag or caointeach—the (little) weeper or “keener.” Views as to her role are rather mixed. Some believe that she exclusively forebodes violent death, such as in fighting, whilst others say that she has much more of a role as a banshee for a clan than marking deaths in a wider community. For example, on Kintyre a keener locally called the cannachan is the special spirit of the MacMillan family and her appearance will mark a death within that clan. The keener may foretell events generally and is not necessarily indicative of misfortune. She can’t be approached and forced to divulge information or to grant wishes, though, unlike the bean-nighe.130
The keener has been described variously as a small woman in green and wearing a cap, only so big as a child, or a “ ‘little white thing’ … white and as soft as wool” who seems to lack a physical body. One woman who touched the caointeach’s head, under the impression that she was a child in tears, found it to be very soft. Another, who once picked her up, found her to be very light and soft, just like a tuft of wool. The keener tends to emerge at night, meaning that people tend to hear her rather than actually meet her. Her voice has been described as a mournful wailing, weeping, screams, or even as sounding like falling or flowing water. These last descriptions underline their close association with rivers and pools as well as their role in marking or foretelling tragedy.131
She will haunt the vicinity of houses, circling them clockwise, but, just like the bean-nighe, she will also be encountered at fords and rivers, beating clothes on a stone. Some think of the caointeach as kind and friendly, whilst others believe that they’re irritable creatures—for they’ve even been seen fighting together. This view is supported by the evidence that the keener does not like to be disturbed in her labours and will strike trespassers on their legs with the shroud she’s busy washing—a blow that can sever their legs. Another man who accidentally stepped on the stone in the river on which she did her washing had his neck twisted in revenge; he had to beg the caointeach to put it right and had then to promise not to repeat his trespass again. In another case, a slap from her caused paralysis.132
Just like any other faery associated with human dwellings, the offer of clothing can repel the caointeach. In one case, she was bewailing a death outside a house where a wake was being held; one of the mourners took pity on her, sitting outside in the cold and wet, and well-meaningly suggested that she should move to the sheltered side of the house and put on a proffered plaid. The caointeach left and was never seen again by the family.133
Gwrach y Rhybin
The Welsh form of this sprite is the gwrach y rhybin, who is regarded as a portent of disaster and death. The Welsh name itself isn’t fully translatable, although the first element means a witch. She is hideous to see, with a long nose curving down to her chin and just two or three long, sharp black teeth, unkempt red hair, a very pale face, long, thin arms, and leathery wings. The gwrach y rhybin comes at night, flapping outside windows and calling out the name of the person destined to die. She may also be seen in the mist on mountains, at crossroads, or by a lake or watercourse, splashing her hands. Any person who sees her in these circumstances is fated.134
The gwrach y rhybin is normally a woman, calling for her husband or child, but she can sometimes appear in male form mourning the imminent death of a wife. If the sound she makes is inarticulate, it will signify that the hearer is the one fated to die. Lastly, Welsh folklore also identified yr hen wrach, “the old hag,” who seems to have been the spirit of the sickness ague.135
Manx Washerwomen
The Manx islanders identified their own faery washerwomen too. These beings were conceived as a kind of liannan-shee (a vampiric faery lover) who would be seen washing clothes in streams, always dressed in red. She would beat the clothes with a stick or on the river rocks, sometimes using one hand only whilst in the other she held a candle; on other occasions, the candle might be seen stuck into the earth of the riverbank. The appearance of the little red washerwoman was a sign of things to come but, unlike the other examples so far examined, in this case she presaged no more than very bad weather.136
Conclusions
Some river spirits are actively antagonistic to humankind; others may foresee their deaths but will not actually precipitate them. Seeing the bean-nighe can be advantageous for you if you have the courage to seize the opportunity and approach her, but the risk is that you may learn things you did not want to hear.
114. Young, “Folklore Pamphlet,” 37; for the Tiddy Mun, see my Faery, chapters 3 and 11 for more information.
115. “The Water Nymph of the River Frome,” Dark Dorset, accessed May 11, 2020 www.darkdorset.co.uk/water_nymph; McPherson, Primitive Beliefs, chapter 4; Mackinlay, Folklore of Scottish Lochs, 161.
116. R. Cromek, Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song: With Historical and Traditional Notices Relative to the Manners and Customs of the Peasantry (London: T. Cadell and W. Davies, 1810), 232–48.
117. Cromek, Remains of Nithsdale Song, 229–232.
118. Watson, “Highland Mythology,” Celtic Review 5, 67.
119. Watson, “Highland Mythology,” Celtic Review 5, 67; Mackenzie, Scottish Folk-lore, 251; Briggs, Dictionary of Fairies, 69.
120. Owen, Welsh Folk-lore, 141; Choice Notes—Folklore, 32; Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx, vol. 1, 36.
121. Morrison, Manx Fairy Tales, 83; Gill, A Manx Scrapbook, chapter 4; Mona Douglas, “Restoring to Use our Almost-Forgotten Dances”: Writings on the Collection and Revival of Manx Folk Dance and Song (Isle of Man: Chiollagh Books, 2004), 18.
122. Folk-lore and Legends: Scotland (W. W. Gibbings, 1889), 171.
123. Hibbert, Shetland Isles, 525.
124. McPherson, Primitive Beliefs, 64.
125. Alexander Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica: Hymns and Incantations […], vol. 2 (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1900), 320.
126. Watson, “Highland Mythology,” Celtic Review 5, 49; MacGregor, The Peat-Fire Flame, 297; Campbell, Superstitions, 43.
127. Campbell and Hall, Strange Things, 283; MacGregor, The Peat-Fire Flame, 297.
128. MacGregor, The Peat-Fire Flame, 297; Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands, 43.
129. MacCulloch, The Misty Isle of Skye, 243.
130. D. Mackenzie, Scottish Folk-lore and Folk Life, 239–40; Watson, “Highland Mythology,” Celtic Review 5, 50.
131. R. C. MacLagan, “‘The Keener’ in the Scottish Highlands and Islands,” Folklore 25, 84.
132. Lewis Spence, The Fairy Tradition in Britain (London: Rider & Co., 1948), 54; MacLagan, “‘The Keener’ in the Scottish,” Folklore 25, 86.
133. MacDougall, Folk Tales and Fairy Lore, 215.
134. Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx, vol. 2, 453.
135. Wirt Sikes, British Goblins (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, 1880), 216–218; Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx, vol. 2, 452.
136. Gill, A Third Manx Scrapbook, chapter 2.