A well-known story in most parts of Ulster is that of a dwarf who slept near a fairy-rath and was awakened by the singing of the fairies inside. The song was about the days of the week. It was very monotonous, for they appeared to known only the names for Monday and Tuesday, and they sang these over and over again. The dwarf added another day – and Wednesday – which not only broke the monotony, but improved the tune. The fairies were delighted and as a reward, they removed the dwarf’s hump. There was naturally, great excitement in the district when the dwarf appeared without his hump and told his story. One of his neighbours, a greedy fellow, thought that if he added a bit more to the song he would also be rewarded. So off he went to the fairy rath and, when the fairies sang the new version of the song, he added ‘and Thursday’, which spoiled it. The fairies were very angry, and they put the dwarf’s hump on his back as a punishment. This story was told to me in Randalstown, Ballyclare, Ballyhornan and Gilnahirk. (Foster, Ulster, 77-78)

The same fisherman told me about another relative who was startled to see a fairy-man standing on his doorstep one Sunday morning when he was washing the potatoes for his dinner. The visitor stepped inside and said to him, ‘Oh little man made of clay, why dost thou break the Sabbath-day?’ This is the only instance I know where a fairy is found supporting a Hebrew institution. There is a strong Prespyterian flavour about the story, and old-type Presbyterianism at that. It is the kind of thing my grandfather might have said. He was a staunch Sabbaterian and no work was permitted in the house, or on the famr, on the Sabbath (he would have thought it sacrilegious to say ‘Sunday’) unless it was absolutely essential. The meat was cooked, vegetables prepared, boots polised, and all the household cleaning was done on Saturday. None of the servants ever worked on Sunday; my grandfather did any work that was necessary himself. No Jew ever kept the Sabbath more strictly than he did, and he was typical of the older school of Presbyterians. (Foster, Ulster, 76)

Another favourite fairy-prank, which is known all over  the country, is riding horses at night, and leaving them back in the stables exhausted and lathered with foam. The ‘fairies’ in some of these stories were in actual fact smugglers who ‘borrowed’ horses from local farms. A Derry version of the story tells of a man whose horses were being used by the fairies and who, one night, decided to lock the stable door and put the dogs on guard. During the night he was awakened by a noise under his window. He looked out and was seized by the fairies who declared that, as they had been deprived of four-legged mounts, they would have to see how a two-legged one would do. They threw a saddle on the unfortunate man’s back, put reins around his neck, and one of them leaped up and rode roun the entire county of Derry. The moral of this tale would appear to be, if the fairies want to use your horses, you had better let them, lest worse befall.  (Foster, Ulster, 73-74)

In the townland of The Town-end, Bushmills, a man who lived in the moss had occasion one night to escort a neighbour down the rodden. They had to pass a fairy-forth on the way and, as they drew near it, there was such an uproar and commotion that ‘they couldn’t hear their ears.’ The Town-end man was angry and he cursed the fairies for a noisy pack. Soon after, when he had returned home, horsemen were heard approaching the house and, in a few minutes there was pandemonium in the farmyard. The horses and cows seemed to have been turned loose, and the fairy horsemen rode whooping round and round the house. The wee folk had heard the man cursing them and were seeking vengeance. They repeatedly shouted for him to come out and ‘face them’, but he, very wisely, stayed where he was. His wife, however, was much concerned lest the animals should be stampeded into the moss and lost, so she armed herself with a Bible and opened the door. The minute she laid her hand on the bolt the noise ceased and, when she looked out, not a living thing was to be seen in the yard. Warning her husband to bolt the door after her, she went to the stable and to the byre and found both horses and cows safely in their stalls, but as soon as she returned to the house the commotion broke out afresh. She went out once more and again she saw nothing and, when she returned, the noise re-commenced. She then made the entire family kneel down and repeat the Lord’s Prayer. Before the prayer ended silence fell upon the yard and house. The fairies had gone. It is interesting to notice that on this occasion no attempt was made to injure the farmer’s wife, nor were the animals interfered with; the man was the offender and it was the man only that they wanted to punish. (Foster, Ulster, 79)

There is a very fascinating story, found mostly in Ulster, of a great battle fought between Irish and Scottish fairies. In all the versions of the story that I have heard, news of the impending battle is brought to a woman who has been kind to the fairies. A fairy-man comes to say goodbye, because he thinks the Irish fairies will be defeated by the Scottish fairies and will be carried off to be slaves for a thousand years. The woman is told that on the night of the battle she will see lights on all the forths within sight of her house and, if she looks at the water in the nearby stream next morning, she will be able to tell how the battle had gone. If the water is red, the Irish fairies will have been defeated. One night the lights are seen on the raths and next morning the stream is running red. (Foster, Ulster, 80-81)

An old man in Ballinascreen told me that the fairies left Ulster in the year 1852. He had heard all about it from a woman at Straw. She was on friendly terms with the local fairies and they told her that they had to fight a battle with the Connaught host. They did not know when the battle would take place, but if they were defeated she would know because the stream would run red the day after the fight. One morning, after a night of terrible commotion in the air, the stream was red, and no more fairies were seen in Ulster. (Foster, Ulster, 80-81)

Another type of fairy, known in some Ulster districts as ‘the brownie’, was believed to come to the house and assist in the work of the household while the family was asleep. An Articlave version of the story tells of a brownie who came at nights to spin for two old women who were finding it hard to make ends meet. They found that all the flax left over at night was spun in the morning and, at first, they did not hdare to spy upon their benefactor. At last, curiosity got the better of them, and they waited up one night to see who or what had been helping them. At midnight the door opened and a little naked woman stepped into the room. She sat down at the wheel and began to spin. She worked until the flax was finished,then went away. They watched for several nights, and one cold night the little woman shivered pitifully. The women were sorry for her and made her a little woolen coat which they left on ‘the rock’ beside the spinning wheel. When the fairy came next ngith, she saw the coat and picked it up. Then, to the astonishment of the hidden women, she burst into tears and turned to the door crying ‘Ochanee, ochaneed, I hae my wages an’ I maun gang awa’. She never returned. Another story of the same type is told in Cullybackey. A man from that district told me that a brownie used to visit his father’s farm and assist with threshing operations. One night a bowl of porridge was left for it, and the fairy ran awaywailing that it had been given its reward and could never return (Foster, Ulster, 83)

Editor’s Note: this story comes from Co. Laois in the 1970s. The grandmother foolishly takes a banshee’s comb with her.

My grandmother was telling me that she was going home from town one day. She picked up a lovely comb and brought it home with her. And that night there was an awful noise at the door and the old man said he would get up and see what it was. She told him not to. And he suddenly saw the comb and he put the comb on the tongs, you know, and sure he put the tongs out of the door with the comb, and the tongs was broken in his hands. (quoted in Lysaght 1998, 79)

An old lady of around eighty who lived in Ballyoonan described a fairy she had once seen as being about two feet tall, dressed in a green suit and wearing a black hat and buckled shoes. Sh tried to catch him as he jumped along in front of her ‘from tuffet to tuffet’ and when she nearly had him, he called out that Warrenpoint was on fire and she looked down to see. When she looked back the fairy had vanished (Foster, Ulster 67)

All over Ulster you will hear stories of fairy women who called at farmhouses to ask that the dirty water should be thrown in a different place as it was going down the fairy chimney and making it smoke. This reasonable request is complied with and the fairies are satisfied. In the tales there is never any suggestion that the farmer’s wife is surprised either by the appearance of the fairy or by the request. (Foster, Ulster 70)