With the early troubadours and minstrels, those nymphs formed the subject of many a lay, and the fate of their amours, of many a wild romaunt.

The fondness of female fays for human society were fertile themes of Persian poetry and early European romances, such as "Sir Launfal and Sir Gruelan," wherein the Fairies of Normandy and Bretagne are endowed with all the splendour of Eastern description.

The Fairy _Malusina_, who married Guy de Lusignan under condition that he should never intrude on her privacy, was of this cla.s.s. She bore him many children, and erected for him a magnificent castle by her art. They lived in uninterrupted harmony until the prying husband concealed himself to behold his wife in her enchanted bath. When discovered, _Malusina_ fled in great sorrow, and was never again seen. A humiliating tale, which, _if true_, would seem to show that men are quite as curious and inquisitive as women are popularly supposed to be.

So common was the idea of the union of human beings with the females of Fairyland in early times, that it was firmly believed the ancestor of the English monarchs, Geoffrey Plantagenet, had married one of these beings.

In the ballad of "Thomas of Ercildoune," the Queen of Fairyland is represented as becoming enamoured of True Thomas. Among the Icelanders the belief was common. Torfaeus, in his history, gives an account of a female who, having born a child to an Icelander, claimed the privilege of baptism, and deposited the infant at the gate of the churchyard for that purpose, with a golden goblet as an offering. The belief is still held by the Laplanders.

The origin of the n.o.ble family of Hay dates from a remote period in our national history. In Normandy there were lands and a lordship denominated Hay, and in the roll of the adventurers who accompanied William the Conqueror into England in 1066, Le Sieur de la Haya is expressly mentioned; but the origin of the Erroll family is thus told by tradition:--The Danes, having landed in Aberdeenshire, ravaged the country as far as the town of Perth. King Kenneth hastened to give them battle, and the hostile armies met on the Leys of Luncarty, in Perthshire. The Scots at first gave way, and fled through a narrow pa.s.s, where they were stopped by a countryman of great strength and courage, and his two sons, who had no other weapons than the yokes of their ploughs, they having been at work in a field not far from the scene of action. Upbraiding the fugitives for their conduct in flying from the field, these peasants succeeded in rallying them. The Scots turned upon their conquerors, and, after a second encounter, still more furious than the first, they gained a complete victory. It is said that, after the Danes were defeated, the old man, lying on the ground, wounded and fatigued, cried "Hay, Hay," which word became the surname of his posterity. The King rewarded him with as much land in the Ca.r.s.e of Gowrie as a falcon should fly over before she settled; and a falcon, being accordingly let off, flew over an extent of ground six miles in length, afterwards called Erroll, and lighted on a stone still styled the Falcon Stone. The King also raised him to the dignity of n.o.bility, and a.s.signed to him and his family armorial bearings in accordance with the signal service which he and his two sons had rendered to their country.

"Till lately, indeed," says Lord Lindsay, in his _Lives of the Lindsays_, "more especially in Great Britain and north of the Tweed, Genealogy merited the ridicule which was so freely lavished on her. It is but a few years ago since the most unfounded fictions were currently believed as to the origin of the Scottish families. The Stuarts were universally held to be the descendants of Banquo--the Douglases of 'the dark grey man,' who fought under King Salvathius against the Danes. It would be endless to enumerate all the fictions with which vanity and flattery peopled the blank of time; they are now forgotten--all save the beautiful legend of the patriarch Hay of Luncarty, on which Milton, in his youth, purposed to found a drama, and which has been immortalised by Shakespeare in the play of _Cymbeline_."

"Circ.u.mstantial evidence," says Pratt, "is also so far in favour of the traditionary record as to render it hazardous to set it aside as wholly unworthy of credit. Thus, the _Hawkestone_ at St Madoes, the well-known boundary of the ancient possessions of the Hays of Erroll in Perthshire, is mentioned by Boethius as existing in his day (anno. 1500), and as having been set up immediately after the defeat of the Danes, in 980.

Also the _Stone_ so carefully preserved at Slains Castle, and which from time immemorial has been venerated by the family as that on which their ancestor sat down after the conflict. For the origin of these and similar traditions it would be difficult to account, had there been no foundation whatever for the narrative of Luncarty."

Gilbert de Haya, Regent of Scotland during the minority of Alexander II., married a daughter of William Comyn, Earl of Buchan, about 1255.

The old Castle of Slains belonged originally to the Earls of Buchan, and became afterwards, for many generations, the seat of the Earls of Erroll.

There is some doubt whether the Castle owed its erection to Fergus, who lived in the time of William the Lion (1065), or to the Comyns who succeeded to this earldom through marriage with Marjory, only daughter of Fergus, and Countess of Buchan in her own right.

Again,--Saladin, the famous Sultan of Syria, fought Guy de Lusignan, King of Jerusalem, in 1187. Then Phillip Augustus of France, Richard I.

of England, with many others, and among them numbers of our Scottish n.o.bility, deemed themselves called upon to fly to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre, and by a third crusade endeavour to wrest its possession from the infidel.

From these facts considerable doubt arises as to which of the "gallant Hays" was the hero of the following ballad. It could hardly be Gilbert, who married the daughter of the Earl of Buchan. If it was, then he could scarcely have been in the third crusade; and there are grave doubts as to the Lady Claribel having been the "child of the Elfin Queen." There may, however, be no doubt that she was beautiful as a Princess, for beauty is no rare qualification of the ladies of the district; nor may it be improbable that she waylaid and captured the Hay in one of the many knightly journeyings in search of adventures which the n.o.bles of those days undertook.

The ladies of those far-off times did many strange things--at least, what now-a-days would be considered such; nevertheless, from the ballad it appears she "made a good wife for all that."

_It is feared_, under all the circ.u.mstances, that, as in many other legendary tales, considerable liberty has been taken with fact in favour of fancy.

THE FAIRY BRIDE.

FROM THE RECITATION OF A COLLECTOR OF BALLADS OF THE OLDEN TIME.

I.

Long, long ago in the mist of years, Near the sh.o.r.es of a sunlit sea, Hid in a nook of a forest old, Rippled a burn in joyous glee, Filling with crystal a basin clear, Scooped from a bed of sparkling sand; And there, on a moss-clad bank, there lay The fairest maid of Fairyland.

Shading the water a birken tree Arched its h.o.a.ry branches above, And the sun peep'd thro' the trembling leaves,[5]

Smiling upon their silent love.

The well ne'er heeded the prying eye, Brighter it beamed upon the tree; And glance for glance, as in years gone by, Back it shadowed in love and lee.

The maid gazed long on that water clear, Mirroring back the bending tree, And longed for one in whose spirit-deeps, Imaged as fondly she should be.

And, though she sighed, she tremblingly hoped, For, looking still on that mirror fair, Her blue eyes flashed with a brighter glance At the figure reflected there.

As on the gra.s.s lay the fair, fair May, Dreaming away the fleeting hours, Her curls seemed rillets of burnished gold, Stealing among the springing flowers.

For seldom yet has the summer's sun, Smiling o'er earth's bright drapery green, Lit lovelier locks or form more fair Than this child of the Fairy Queen.

"Oh, sad is the fate," sighed Claribel, "Of the maidens of Fairyland, Who pine for the wedding-robes of love, With the grasp of a wedding hand.

Oh, were I loved by some gentle knight, Little I'd reck of royal birth; Station and rank I would freely change For that holiest joy of earth.

"No n.o.ble or knight of Elfinland My dreaming fancy e'er shall move; I'll seem a maiden of earth to be, And light my life with stars of love.

I'll win me a lord of fame and worth, Who'll love me fondly more and more; While I learn him lear of Gramarye He'll teach me all his earthly lore."[6]

The maiden rose from her couch of moss, Circled around with a mystic sheen; Such beauty, I trow, earth never saw, Such grace no living man hath seen.

Enswathed in the light of endless bloom, Her brow outpaling falling snow, Her cheeks like the blushing damask rose, Her lips with budding love aglow.

Round her she wrapped a cramosie cloak, To hide her robes of sun-wove air; A veil of the moonlit mist she donned, To shade her face so pa.s.sing fair.

Gliding along through the forest green, Brushing the dew with hasty feet, Smiling a hope on her parted lips, Thinking of him she longed to meet.

II.

Proudly there stood by the rock-bound sh.o.r.e A lordly home, with turrets gray; But the knight afar in Paynim land Had been many a year away.

Merrily dashed the sea-driven foam High on the lofty castle wall; But the henchmen moved them drowsily, For lone, alas! were bower and hall.

'Twas the hour when wearied daylight sinks In the arms of the waiting west, And gloaming steals from her purple cave, Bearing her lone star on her breast.

When the glades like minster windows gleam With slanting rays of burnished gold, And stealing shadows, in fond embrace, Are creeping the forest to fold.

Through the dim and faint-lit forest aisles, Flitting among the grey old trees, The maiden sped on, each weary sigh Mingling with the evening breeze.

"Oh, would he were come--the gallant Hay, Quickly the night begins to fall; Oh, would that his manly heart were mine, And my home were his castle hall."

Brighter anon flashed her bright blue eye, Rosier blushed her cheeks, I ween, As, breathless, she heard a war-horse tramp Through the glade of the forest green.

Then quickly came forth a youthful knight, Straining his eyes that home to see, He'd longed for many a watchful hour By the waters of Galilee.

Suddenly halted the courteous knight, Bright the glance of his martial eye Flashed in the light of his manhood's bloom 'Neath the plume of his morion high.

Marvelled he much as the evening rays Fell on a maid so wondrous rare; "Art thou a form from the beauty world Or the fairest of earthly fair?"

"List, warrior, list," the fair maid said; "Pray thee list a lady's behest.

I've wandered far and lost my way, And am wearied and fain would rest."

Full lowly he bent his waving plume, Till it mixed with his horse's mane, "Where is thy home, dear lady, I ask?

Let me carry thee thither again."

"Knowest thou, brave knight, where the elfin halls Gleam under skies of purple light, With their towering domes of chaste opal Glowing in clouds of crimson bright; With their waving trees of rarest kind, Soft'ning sunlight cheering the gloom, Catching the rays as they hasten by, Wreathing their tops with golden bloom.

"Last eve, with my maids, I left my home, Singing our songs in gay refrain; Seeking wild flowers, I wandered alone Over hill, over dale, and plain.

Laughingly trod we the dewy mead, Lit by the rays of the evening star; But sadly I've spent the weary day, For, ah me! I have wandered far.'

"I know not thy home," the young knight said, "Else in honour I'd bear thee there; Tho' never below the glorious sky Have I seen one so pa.s.sing fair.

Much have I mingled in court and camp, In revel, in tourney and strife, But never, till now, have mine eyes beheld A maid I could love as my wife."

Quickly the warrior lighted him down-- "Lady," he said, "my halls are near; Come to my arms--I'll carry thee home, And ye shall be my peerless fere."

"Gramercy, my lord," the maiden said; "Willingly shall I go with thee; And I'll be to thee a leal, true wife-- _Thou_ shalt be 'all the world to me.'"