Orkney Folk Tales Read online

  One evening, after the harvest had been won and the cold days shortened, Arthur went down to the rocks at Hamaness to gather limpets as bait for his fishing hooks. Arthur had gathered quite a few when he saw a group of fine, big limpets stuck to the face of a rock, just above the sea. He lay flat on his belly to reach over and knock them off with his bait pick. As he lay there he became aware of the sound of music coming from far below him. The sound of the sweet singing grew louder and louder, filling his senses until his head swam. He had lost the power to move, lying there helpless on the rocks looking down into the sea. Then he saw them, far below, burning bright and as blue as sapphires; a pair of beautiful eyes fixing him with their gaze. A face rose up from the depth of the waters; a face so beautiful that it made Arthur give a little stifled cry of amazement. The next thing that he knew a pair of milk-white arms broke the surface of the water and wrapped themselves around the back of Arthur’s neck and drew him lovingly into the sea. What happened next Arthur didn’t know, for he had lost all of his senses.

  When he woke again he found himself lying in the bow of a little boat that was heading at great speed towards the setting sun with not a sight of land to be seen. In the stern of the boat sat a beautiful mermaid with eyes that shone like sapphires. Her long golden hair hung down to her waist and she wore nothing but a silver-coloured skirt. This skirt was twisted together to form a tail which hung over the stern of the boat and was propelling the boat along. Under this tail-like skirt Arthur could see that the mermaid had a pair of dainty white feet. Then Arthur started to remember his former life, his home, his family and his love, Clara Peace. The mermaid sprang to the front of the boat and kissed Arthur’s lips and his memories started to fade. Then she breathed into his mouth; her breath went down his throat like honey and all memories of home left him. In their place was a burning, passionate love for the mermaid and Arthur curled up with her in his arms in the stern of the boat.

  The mermaid looked up into the sky until she saw a certain star; Arthur couldn’t see it, but mermaids have wonderfully good eyesight. When she saw the star she positioned the boat underneath it and said, in a clear, lyrical voice:

  Sea, sea, open to me!

  Open the door to Auga

  That was the first time that Arthur had heard the mermaid’s name; Auga. Suddenly the sea started to churn and to Arthur’s horror the boat sank beneath the waves, taking them both with it. Arthur soon became aware that he wasn’t drowning; in fact, he could breathe under water like a fish. The boat drifted gently onwards, like a feather on the breeze, going deeper all the time until Arthur saw stretching out beneath him a great city with fine houses made from coral and crystal and studded with precious gems. The boat came gently to rest in the centre of a great square in the middle of the city of Finfolkaheem and Auga took him by the hand and led him to a great palace. As he entered Arthur saw mermaids grinding on a hand-quern. But, instead of grinding corn, they were dropping pearls through the eye of the quern and pearl dust was being scattered onto the floor. Auga took him to a silver room and left him there for a time; staring in wonder at everything that he saw. When she returned she was dressed in a gown of gold and silver and she seemed to radiate beauty as bright as the midday sun. Around her neck was a string of pearls, each one the size of a cockle shell, but she wore no other jewellery, because the brightest diamond would look dull beneath the sparkle of her eyes. They kissed and cuddled for a while before she told him that he must get ready for their wedding. She took a fine robe from a chest and put it on him. Then she called to her servants and two young mermaids took off Arthur’s shoes and socks. They washed his feet and anointed them with oils and sprinkled them with pearl dust until they shone.

  Arthur was next led into the Foy-Hall, where the wedding celebrations were to take place. The walls, roof and pillars of the Foy-Hall were all made of crystal and it shone with a soft, green phosphorescent glow like you sometimes see on the summer sea. The Foy-Hall was full of fin men and mermaids and they all gave a huge cheer of triumph and welcome as the couple entered. Auga and Arthur were led to the high seats, next to the most important people in the city, and a line of mermaids came and kissed Arthur’s feet. Mermaids love the taste of mortal men, but Auga would not allow any of them to kiss him on the lips; they were for her alone. A great feast was set before them of whale, seal and otter meat, every kind of fish, seaweed stewed in seal fat and soup made from whale and seal, thickened with cod roe. Arthur enjoyed this very much and was kept supplied with drinking horns of ale and blood-red wine.

  An old fin man with a long white beard tucked into his belt called for silence. He placed a dish with a roast emmer goose12 in front of them and told them to eat it all between them, pick the bones clean and leave them on the dish as he had to count them when they had finished. As they started to eat Arthur saw that a black cat had appeared on his knee and was starting to pick at some of the meat from Auga’s half of the emmer goose. It also took a leg from Arthur’s half, picked it clean and put the bone on the plate. It seemed that no one could see the cat but Arthur. When the meat was all finished the old fin man counted the bones and found them to be even. But the cat had broken a powerful spell by taking part of the meat herself. Then they were given a wedding horn, mounted with silver and pearls and filled with the most delicious blood-red wine. Auga drank her half and then handed it to Arthur. But as Arthur raised it to his lips the cat knocked the bottom of the horn with her head, spilling most of it down between his robe and his skin. Once again the cat knocked into the horn, spilling the wine, but Arthur found that he had no power to prevent the cat from doing this, and so another powerful spell was broken.

  Then they all went into the Dancing-Hall, and if the first hall was beautiful than this one was even more wonderful. Along its walls were hung curtains of different coloured lights that shone like the merry dancers13 on a frosty night. By the fin folk’s magic these curtains of light gently shimmered up and down, just like the real ones. The dancing and the drinking went on all night until finally it was time to go to bed. Auga was carried off on a large cushion by two mermaids, while six mermaids danced before her and five behind her. Then two fin men carried Arthur off on a cushion, with six fin men dancing before him and five behind. He was brought into the bedroom where Auga was in bed waiting for him. The fin men undressed him and laid him in the bed next to Auga. Then the thirteen mermaids and the thirteen fin men danced around the bed before leaving them alone. Arthur was very drunk by this time, but he was only human and his desire for Auga was strong. Then he saw the cat again; it was at the foot of the bed and it dived under the blankets and crawled up between them. As it did so it seemed to get longer and thinner until it had turned into an eel, which lay between them. Every time that Arthur tried to touch Auga the eel bit him, but he was so drunk that he soon fell asleep. The last thing that he could remember was the eel whispering sweet nothings in Auga’s ear.

  The next morning they rose at rising time, as there is no day or night in Finfolkaheem. He went to look around the city and was amazed anew by the beauty of the place. All the fine houses had gardens where lovely coloured seaweeds grew instead of flowers and where brightly coloured fishes darted between their fronds. A huge horn sounded and at that signal the whales and sea cows were driven towards the city to be milked. Arthur went hunting fish with the fin men, riding on sea horses and using seals and otters like dogs. On his return home Auga would be waiting for him with the finest food, the strongest ale and other unknown pleasures. His days in Finfolkaheem were long and sweet and Arthur never once thought about home or Clara Peace.

  Back in Sanday everyone thought that Arthur had been lost. They searched for him and watched the sea in case his body was washed ashore, but he could not be found. Everyone mourned for the loss of Arthur Dearness, but nobody mourned more than young Clara Peace. Her loss was so great that the tears refused to flow; she just sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing but nursing a heart that was broken in two. Her Aunt Marion wa
s sent for, as she had the reputation of being a wise woman. Aunt Marion went to her home at Grindaley and locked herself away in a room. She came out well on through the night and was covered in sweat, like she had been fighting a great battle. She then set off on her horse and rode to Corsdale to see Arthur’s parents.

  ‘Your son lives!’ she cried. ‘And I will bring him back yet. You may well see your son alive again.’

  But Arthur’s parents just shook their heads in disbelief and said, ‘I doubt that. The good wife of Grindaley has got it wrong this time.’

  She then rode to North Skaill to see Clara and to tell her the news, but she just sat there, staring into space and said nothing. The light was fading from her eyes.

  Back in Finfolkaheem Arthur was sitting with Auga snuggled into his chest. He was holding her with his left arm and stroking her lovely, long golden hair with the other. Suddenly the black cat appeared on his left shoulder, it grabbed his right forefinger between its two paws and it drew a cross on Auga’s forehead. She screamed a terrible, loud scream and there was a sound like a clap of thunder. Immediately the light went from Arthur’s eyes and he fell to the floor. When he woke up he found himself lying on the rocks at Hamaness with Aunt Marion stooping over him. As he gazed at her in wonder his memory started to return. He remembered his home, his family and Clara Peace. He also remembered the eel and the black cat and, as he looked at Aunt Marion, he seemed to see a familiar look in her eye.

  ‘God bless you and your black cat, Marion, otherwise I would have been bewitched and held in Finfolkaheem for the rest of my life.’

  Aunt Marion took him up behind her on her horse and took him straight to Clara. When she saw him the tears that could not flow were released and she held him and sobbed. It was decided that the best thing that they could do was to get married as quickly as possible, and so they did.

  Time has passed and many generations have risen and fallen since the time of Arthur and Clara. But it is said that if you go to the rocks at Hamaness in Sanday as the dawn breaks you can still hear the song of the mermaid Auga drifting on the sea breeze. Only now her song is a lament for a love that is lost and a pain that is hard to bear.

  It seems that stories of mermaids were popular as a form of escapism from the harsh realities of poverty, as Walter Traill Dennison wrote in 1892:

  I have seen an old withered woman, with grey hair and wizened face, her head in a sooty cap, a sooty square of homespun over her shoulders, a torn, dirty petticoat of homespun over her knees, her left foot stretched before her on the hearth-stone, that foot in a stocking through which the big toe protruded, her naked right foot stretching over her left, while she was busy darning the stocking she had pulled off for that purpose; while in the midst of her poverty and squalor, she was painting in the most glowing colours, to a group of youngsters, the unequalled charms of the mermaid. The old woman seemed wholly absorbed by the beauty of the being she described; her hands dropped on her knees, her eyes glowed with the enthusiasm imparted by her description; and from the manner in which she emphasised her laudatory words, you could not for a moment but believe that she has seen with her own eyes the charming creature she described, while we youngsters, with eyes wide open and gaping mouths, sat around her spell-bound, believing every word she said.

  5

  FIN FOLK AND

  VANISHING ISLANDS

  Fin men, although apparently the mermaids’ menfolk, were nothing like them. They possessed no tail, but were said to be covered with fins, from which they got their name. They were skilled sorcerers and could wrap these fins around themselves and make them look like items of clothing. They were described as being well-built, black-haired, silent and moody. If you got on the wrong side of a fin man then you were in trouble, as we shall see later.

  THE FIN FOLK AND THE MILL

  At the Bay of Skaill in Sandwick there once stood a fine watermill, although there is nothing left of it now but the millstones and a part of the gears. The sea that uncovered the Neolithic village of Skara Brae next to the mill also ate away at the shoreline, leaving the mill undermined and dangerous. But once it was the scene of a remarkable struggle between the local people of Sandwick and the fin folk that lived nearby, in the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

  The miller at the Mill of Skaill was at his wits’ end. Every time he set the millwheel turning to grind the corn that the local crofters had brought to him, his activities were watched by many pairs of greedy eyes. In the bay there lived a number of fin folk and despite the fact that they lived on the produce of the sea they had developed a taste for meal; the flour that the miller ground. As soon as the sun had set the fin folk left their watery realm and crept up to the mill by the shore, as silent as cats, then they burst in through the door, frightened the miller away and stole sacks of flour for their own use. The miller’s nerves started to be affected by these nightly raids until he could bear it no longer. He locked up the mill and went home, refusing all pleas from the local folk who wanted him to grind their corn. Time passed and the local crofters found themselves in a very awkward position, as they had to take their corn many miles away to the next nearest mill. Many just didn’t bother.

  One day an old beggar woman came to the area around the Bay of Skaill and she went from house to house asking if the crofters could spare a bit of flour, or a bannock to allay her hunger. At each door she received the same story; there was no flour to be had since the mill closed. When she asked what had happened she was told about the fin folk and their nocturnal raids on the mill and the miller’s fear of returning to his former workplace. The old woman thought for a bit and then said that she could help them, if they would give her everything that she would need. Everyone was eager to get the mill working again and they agreed readily.

  ‘I will need a few things in order to make this plan work,’ said the old woman. ‘I’ll need an iron pot, some fresh water, kale, a ladle, some material for a fire and a spinning wheel with some wool.’

  Soon all these things were gathered together and ready to be taken to the mill. The miller refused to go near the place, but he had given them the key to the door. The local folk brought everything to the mill, just as the old woman had asked and then they left in a hurry. Left alone, the old woman lit the fire and hung the pot of water over it to boil before adding the kale and settling down to spin. From the bay the fin folk could see that there was a light burning in the mill and they thought that the miller must have gotten over his fright and returned to work. They left the sea and crept up the beach, over sand and stones, until they reached the door of the mill. With a loud yell they burst through the door and ran from room to room looking for the poor miller and the flour that he had ground, but they saw neither miller nor flour. One fin man went into the room where the old beggar woman sat spinning by her pot of boiling kale. The fin man made horrible sounds and pulled terrible faces to try to frighten her, but she just smiled at him and carried on spinning. The fin man went quiet when he saw that he couldn’t frighten the old woman, so he sat down beside her on a creepie14 and watched her for a while. Knowing that he would gain power over her if she revealed her name to him, he asked her, ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Myself in the Mill,’ she answered and then she scooped up a ladleful of the boiling water and kale and threw it over the fin man’s legs, scalding him badly.

  The fin man screamed in pain and ran out of the mill. His cries frightened the others and they all ran out as fast as they could. Once they had calmed down they found their burned friend and asked him, ‘Who did this to you?’

  ‘It was Myself in the Mill,’ he said.

  ‘Well, if Myself did it then Myself can sail away in the waters with it,’ they replied and they went back to the sea and never returned.

  The old woman was hailed as a heroine by the local folk, once it became clear that the fin folk had left for good. The miller returned and the crofters could get their corn ground once more. They hung up a straw basket by the door of the mill an
d everyone who had corn ground there left an offering of flour for the old woman, so she never had to beg again.

  THE BLINDING OF TAM SCOTT

  Tam Scott was a sailor who ran a large boat from his native island of Sanday. That was until he went blind, of course; so let this story be a warning to you all for I am about to tell you how Tam Scott lost his sight.

  It was a sunny day in August and the Lammas Fair was about to begin in Kirkwall. This was a great event with all sorts of folk coming from all over Orkney to sell their goods and have fun. Dealers and merchants, hawkers and showmen came to the fair from as far off as Scotland and Shetland to join in the merriment. It was certainly a sight worth seeing and was eagerly looked forward to by one and all.

  Tam Scott and his pal Willie got the boat ready for the voyage from Sanday to Kirkwall. There were plenty of passengers wanting to make use of their vessel and soon they were full and ready to go. Tam smiled a knowing smile to himself as the mothers fussed over their pretty young daughters, for he knew that they would have protected the girls by painting a cross on their breast as a protection in case the fin folk should try to carry them off as their bride. The sign of the cross was a powerful weapon against the fin folk, as was a blessing. The boat sailed swiftly between Eday and Stronsay, past Shapinsay and soon the spire of St Magnus Cathedral was looming large across the bay. Tam and Willie secured the boat, unloaded their passengers and then walked up the narrow, winding street to the Kirk Green in front of the cathedral where the main part of the fair was held. Willie’s thirst was bothering him, so he headed to the Anchor Close for a drink. Tam carried on chatting to old friends, catching up with the news and sharing a cog of ale.