The Changeling of Torr-a-Bhuilg
{from Folk Tales and Fairy Lore in Gaelic and English
collected from oral tradition by Rev. James MacDougall (1910)}
The Changeling of Torr-a-bhuilg.
Long ago a wisewoman happened to call in a house near Torr-a-Bhuilg. At the time there was no one in the house but the housewife and what appeared to be a little child. The child kept tumbling about on the floor and screaming incessantly day and night.
The wisewoman asked what lad she had there on the floor. The housewife answered that she did not know. "Well," said the wisewoman, "I know well what he is, and if you take my advice you will get rid of him; but, if not, you will get enough of him." The housewife said that she would take her advice, and the wisewoman then told her what she was to do to him.
After the wisewoman left, the housewife went out and brought in a basket of eggs, which she placed in a circle on the floor. While she was thus engaged, the lad kept looking sullenly at her, and said at length, roughly, "What are you doing in that manner?" "I am making a brewing cauldron," was the reply. "A brewing cauldron? I am more than three hundred years old and i never yet saw a brewing cauldron like that!"
The housewife had no longer any doubt of the child being a fairy, but she went about her business for a while in her usual way. Then she looked out at the window and assumed a scared look and began to start back as if she beheld something dreadful. The squaller on the floor, looking askance at her for a while, at last asked what it was she beheld. "I see," said she, "Torr-a-Bhuilg on fire."
He waited where he was no longer, but sprung out at the door, saying, "My hammers and my anvil and my bellows," and after that he was never seen again.
Now this is a weird story from my point of view. Firstly, the housewife doesn't even know whose child it is; the title in the book is simply "Torr a' Bhuilg" which is the placename, I added the word changeling but now I'm wondering if that's entirely accurate. Was there a child changed? From the story, I think there was not and that's very different from most such stories.
Secondly, it's always bothered me that these random people come to a house and give advice that essentially says "get rid of the kid or else". The story in the book describes the visitor as "bean bhochd" - a poor woman, but I ask you - if a beggar came and told you you should do something horrible to a child, would you? I opened my Dwelly (massive Gaelic dictionary) and started looking through the B's, trying to find some reason why the housewife would take this person's advice. Now, I wouldn't take the advice of a random beggar, but a professional witch/wise woman of the neighbourhood? DEFINITELY. (on second thought, considering how I fight my doctor's advice... let's downgrade that to ... Most Likely).
The word for female wizard is bana-bhuidseach. Bhochd (poor) is pronounced "vok"; bhuidseach is pronounced "vootcheck" - not really very close but the people collecting the stories were Victorian clergymen for the most part. I suspect that there was some ... ummm, editing going on here. Censoring, either on the part of the teller or of the listener.
collected from oral tradition by Rev. James MacDougall (1910)}
The Changeling of Torr-a-bhuilg.
Long ago a wisewoman happened to call in a house near Torr-a-Bhuilg. At the time there was no one in the house but the housewife and what appeared to be a little child. The child kept tumbling about on the floor and screaming incessantly day and night.
The wisewoman asked what lad she had there on the floor. The housewife answered that she did not know. "Well," said the wisewoman, "I know well what he is, and if you take my advice you will get rid of him; but, if not, you will get enough of him." The housewife said that she would take her advice, and the wisewoman then told her what she was to do to him.
After the wisewoman left, the housewife went out and brought in a basket of eggs, which she placed in a circle on the floor. While she was thus engaged, the lad kept looking sullenly at her, and said at length, roughly, "What are you doing in that manner?" "I am making a brewing cauldron," was the reply. "A brewing cauldron? I am more than three hundred years old and i never yet saw a brewing cauldron like that!"
The housewife had no longer any doubt of the child being a fairy, but she went about her business for a while in her usual way. Then she looked out at the window and assumed a scared look and began to start back as if she beheld something dreadful. The squaller on the floor, looking askance at her for a while, at last asked what it was she beheld. "I see," said she, "Torr-a-Bhuilg on fire."
He waited where he was no longer, but sprung out at the door, saying, "My hammers and my anvil and my bellows," and after that he was never seen again.
Now this is a weird story from my point of view. Firstly, the housewife doesn't even know whose child it is; the title in the book is simply "Torr a' Bhuilg" which is the placename, I added the word changeling but now I'm wondering if that's entirely accurate. Was there a child changed? From the story, I think there was not and that's very different from most such stories.
Secondly, it's always bothered me that these random people come to a house and give advice that essentially says "get rid of the kid or else". The story in the book describes the visitor as "bean bhochd" - a poor woman, but I ask you - if a beggar came and told you you should do something horrible to a child, would you? I opened my Dwelly (massive Gaelic dictionary) and started looking through the B's, trying to find some reason why the housewife would take this person's advice. Now, I wouldn't take the advice of a random beggar, but a professional witch/wise woman of the neighbourhood? DEFINITELY. (on second thought, considering how I fight my doctor's advice... let's downgrade that to ... Most Likely).
The word for female wizard is bana-bhuidseach. Bhochd (poor) is pronounced "vok"; bhuidseach is pronounced "vootcheck" - not really very close but the people collecting the stories were Victorian clergymen for the most part. I suspect that there was some ... ummm, editing going on here. Censoring, either on the part of the teller or of the listener.