the NEW BOTTRELL diaries: How Big Are Fairies?

15 Oct 2012

How Big Are Fairies?

Posted by Beachcombing

There is a lot of confusion about the size of fairies in tradition and we often read that ‘small’ fairies were the invention of Shakespeare and his hangers on. The proof that small fairies were there all along comes, instead, in Gervase of Tilbury’s Otia Imperialia written and ‘published’ in the early thirteenth century: long before William was even a saliva droplet in the Oxfordian’s splutter. There can be no doubt that Gervase is describing some form of fairy here: solitaries rather than troopers, but fairies none the less.

Sicut inter hominess quedam mirabalia natura producit, ita spiritus, in humanis corporibus aeries que assumunt ex diuina permissione, ludibria sui faciunt. Ecce enim Anglia demons quosdam habet (demons, inquam, nescio dixerim an secretas et ignote generationis effigies), quos Galli neptunos, Angli portunos nominant. Istis insitum est quod simplicitatem fortunatorum colonorum amplectuntur, et cum nocturnas propter domesticas operas agunt uigilias, subito clauses ianuis ad ignem calefiunt, et ranuculas e sinu proiectas, prunes impositas, comedunt. Senili uultu, facie corrugate, statura pusili, dimidium pollicis non habentes, panniculis consertis induuntur; et si quid gestandum in domo fuerit aut honerosi operas agendum, ad operandumse ingerunt, cicius humana facilitate expedient. Id illis inditum est ut obsequi possint et obese non possint. Verumptamen unicum quasi nocendi modulum habent. Cum enim inter ambiguas noctis tenebras Angli solitarii quandoque equitant, portunus nonnumquam inuisus equitanti se copulat, et cum diucius comitatur euntem, tandem loris arreptis equum in lutum ad manum ducit ; in quo dum infixus uoluatur, portunus exiens cachinnum facit, et sic huiuscemodi ludebrio humanam simplicitatem deridet.

Just as nature produces certain marvels in the world of humans, so spirits perpertrate their jokes in human bodies made of air, which they put on with God’s permission. For instance, England has certain demons (though I admit that I do not know whether I should call them demons, or mysterious ghosts of unknown origin), which the French call neptunes [!], and the English portunes [!!]. It belongs to their nature to take pleasure in the simplicity of happy peasants. When peasants stay up late at night for the sake of their domestic tasks, suddenly, though the doors are closed, they are there warming themselves at the fire and eating little frogs [!!!] which they bring out of their pockets and roast on the coals. They have an aged appearance, and a wrinkled face; they are very small in stature, measuring less than half a thumb, and they wear tiny rags sewn together. If there should be anything to be carried in the house or any heavy task to be done, they apply themselves to the work and accomplish it more quickly than it could be done by human means. It is a law of their nature that they can be useful but cannot do harm. However, they do have one way of being something of a nuisance: when on occasion Englishmen ride alone through the uncertain shadows of night, a portune sometimes attaches himself to the rider without being seen, and when he has accompanied him on his way for some time, there comes a moment when he seizes the reins and leads the horse into some nearby mud. While the horse wallows stuck in the mud, the portune goes off roaring with laughter, and so with a trick of this kind he makes fun of human simplicity.

There is much that is interesting here but note two things. First, some of those familiar fairy features from eighteenth and nineteenth century belief: ragged clothes, mocking laughter, aged appearance, devils or ghosts, airy bodies (?)… Second, they are TINY. The author says, in fact, that they are less than half a thumb in size (statura pusili, dimidium pollicis). There have been some attempts to emend the Latin here so that the portunes become, instead, half a foot or half a yard etc etc. But the textual history of the Otia suggests no irregularities or alternatives. And the only objection to the half thumb size was that being so small they would not be able to do housework. If one wants to get practical there are far more serious objections: not least their very existence! Gervase, in any case, clearly believed that they were tiny: and this begs the question of how small their frogs were…
So seriously how big are fairies? drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com In the end fairies can be ant size and shrinking (visit Cornwall), half a thumb tall, they can look like stunted humans, they can be human size, they can be larger than humans, and Beach has the suspicion that some giants are essentially fairies. What we have are protean and powerful beings. Perhaps even some of those magical creatures of Welsh myth – not least Arthur himself – with their shape-changing proclivities were proto-Brittonic fairies? Certainly, there are lots of very weird cousins, pervy uncles and unlooked for step fathers in the fairy family. May God preserve us from them all…

Tags:Britain, Fairies, France, Gervase of Tilbury, Neptunes, Portunes, William Shakespeare

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william bottrell 1816-81

William Bottrell was born at Raftra (or Raughtra) in St. Levan, within a couple of miles or so of the Land’s End, on the 7th of March 1816. He was the son of William Vingoe Bottrell and Margaret, daughter of William and Margaret (née Andrew) Bosence, of Sancreed. The latter couple were married at St. Levan, 27 Sept. 1788, and Margaret, their daughter, was baptised at St. Buryan, on the15 June 1792. William Vingoe Bottrell was also born at Raftra in 1790, and baptised at Sennen. He was the son of Richard Bottrell, of St. Levan, and Mary Vingoe, who were married at Sennen, 2 Aug.1788. Williams father was a Yeoman Farmer of some means, so the first few years of William’s life were spent on the family farm at Raftra. It was in these surroundings that he heard his first stories while sitting by the fire in the kitchen with his Grandparents, Mary and Richard Bottrell. His Grandma told him how as a young girl her own mother had died, and how she had been sent to live with an aunt and uncle at Alverton in Penzance and had befriended Edward Pellew (Admiral Lord Exmouth) as a young boy. Bottrell later went on to tell this story in volume three of his Folktales.

Grandma Mary had a great influence on young William. She would take him for walks over the fields and cliffs around the Lands End telling him stories that had been handed down from generation to generation of Vingoe’s for hundreds of years. Stories that later became the basis of the three volumes. William was an only child so his parents were able to give him what was for those times a good education. This more formal education was started at Penzance Grammar School under William Purchase, who was the English master there, and under Nicholas Bice Julyan until 1831, when he was sent to Bodmin School, then under the headmastership of Leonard James Boor. William gained a love for the classics and mathematics, which stayed with him for the rest of his life. He left Bodmin School in 1837 and little is known of his life between 1837 and 1851 other than like so many of his fellow Cornishmen and women he travelled the world. About 1837 he visited France and went on to invest heavily in land in the Basque area of Spain. Later in his life he used to speak of his love for his Spanish garden with its herbs, fruit and flowers. He also collected local Basque folk tales but this idyllic life came to an end when his land was confiscated and given to the Catholic Church and Bottrell returned to Cornwall a ruined man.

Within months he was on the move again, this time to Canada where he had obtained a position as English Teacher in a College in Quebec (1847–1851). He became unsettled with academic life and left for the forests of the interior where he worked for a short time as an overseer for a timber company, returning to Penzance, in 1852 where he lived at No. 4, Clare Street. At some stage he married and took his wife to live in Australia where she unfortunately died. This was a black time in his life, which he refused to discuss with anyone, but would dismiss it with the words “I lost my love and my money so came home.”

On his return from Australia he lived the life of a recluse at Hawke’s Point Lelant. A friend of his later wrote: “Here he lived in a hovel and cultivated a little moorland, He had a black cat called ‘Spriggans’ plus a cow and pony. These animals would all follow him down the almost perpendicular cliff, over a goats path, to the spring which was their water supply and no accidents happened to either.” His friend went on to tell how Bottrell became a friend of the tinners who worked in near-by mines. They would do a days work underground then think nothing of spending a couple of hours helping Bottrell clear ground in order that he could create a garden. It was from these men that Bottrell learned more of the ancient tales of west Cornwall. As they sat by the fire in the cottage which he had made his home, one of the number would tell a tale whilst William drew a sketch of the man. Bottrell always acknowledged the debt he owed to these men, he said of them “they have intelligence, mother-wit and memories and I am able to garner from the ample harvest.”

Only a few years later and most of the stories which make up the volumes of not only Bottrell’s own work but also a large part of the two volumes produced by Robert Hunt would have been lost. Much of his work was utilised by Hunt in his two-volume Popular Romances of the West of England, first printed in 1865, of which upward of 50 “drolls” were communicated to him by Bottrell, a help which is not as handsomely acknowledged as it deserved. The then editor of the “Cornish Telegraph” suggested to Bottrell that he should write and publish the stories himself.

William Bottrell’s first appearance in print was in the columns of The Cornish Telegraph of 1867, where he gave an account of “The Penzance of our Grandfathers.” Many articles of his appeared subsequently in this paper and in One and All, a particularly interesting periodical, and in 1873 he contributed to the Reliquary. Of all these various articles the best were gathered together and published in the three volumes. Life began to improve for William and he moved into St Ives. Before the completion of his last volume, however, he suffered a stroke and was paralysed. After six weeks of suffering he died at 10am on the 27 August, 1881 at Dove St., St. Ives and was buried in the churchyard he loved the most, St. Levan amongst his ancestors.

William Bottrell had become:

“A sun-dial pillar left alone,
On which no dial meets the eye;
A black mill-wheel with grass o’ergrown,
That hears no water trickle by:
Dark, palsied mass of severed rock,
Deaf, blind and sear to sun and rain;
A shatter’d gravestone’s time worn block
That only shows an honoured name.”

Anon.