The Fenoderee of the Isle of Man

By Dawn Marie Hamilton

The Isle of Man sits in the Irish Sea. With its Celtic and Norse origins, Manx folklore includes many stories of mythical creatures. One such creature is the Fenoderee.

Originally a knight of the Ferrishyn royal court, the faerie tribe of Man, the Fenoderee lost his status by falling for a mortal woman and missing the faerie's autumnal festival while courting his lover. In punishment, his handsome glamour was taken from him, and he became an ugly, satyr-like creature, covered with copious body hair. At least, that is what I believe.

Some compare him to the Brùnaidh, the Scottish brownie.

The Fenoderee prances about without clothing, complaining that trousers and coats and hats are naught but discomfort. He becomes offended if offered garments, and will vacate the area in a huff.

He is known as an able worker of considerable strength, offering services, such as the herding of animals, to the farmers of Man. He is well suited to performing quarry work, lugging loads of stone too heavy for mortal men. His favorite task is mowing, and for clipping the grass with incredible speed, he has been nicknamed 'the nimble mower.'

The Fenoderee is a creature of folklore I wouldn't fear meeting.

Who is your favorite creature of folklore?

The Legend of the Vanishing Wedding Feast

By Dawn Marie Hamilton



Photo by Jason Hemmings

Old Castle Lachlan might look like a ruin today, but if you step with me through a mist of fantasy you will see a bustling castle where...once upon a time, resided an angry brùnaidh.

"Ouch." Had someone pinched her?

The somber friar raised his gaze from his prayer book. "Is anything wrong, my lady?"

Heat flashed across Mairi's chest and neck. She glanced at the man standing at her side, the one she met a mere few hours ago.

Iain glared at the shingle at her feet. He probably believed the stones poked through her thin bridal slippers and caused the outburst. Though the shingle made the proceedings uncomfortable, that wasn't what made her screech. Something sharp jabbed her hip, but no one stood near enough to inflict such abuse.

"All is well." She smiled at Father Ambrose. "Please, continue."

Mairi's gaze drifted over the faces of those who'd gathered to witness the uniting of two clans in peace. Bah. Her marriage to the Chief of Clan MacLachlan would change nothing. Her grandfather's quest for more land proved insatiable.

Where was Caitrina? Mairi couldn't find her amidst the crowd. Had the fairy forsaken her? Never. Caitrina must have hidden within a glamour of invisibility.

The friar's voice droned on. Mairi fixed her stare on the water, the ceremony taking place on the shore of Loch Fyne. The MacLachlan chapel within the castle tower was unable to accommodate the throngs of Campbells who'd come to witness the spectacle of her ruin.

She risked a sideways glance at Iain. His features remained inscrutable.

He'd dressed for the occasion in a crisp saffron leine and colorful plaide of red and blue. Two warrior braids hung to one side of his strong jaw and his chestnut hair glistened in the sunlight. When he leveled his stare on her, his sapphire eyes sparkled.

A shiver shimmied along her spine, and she couldn't suppress the prick of fear tangled with excitement for the bedding to come. How would she survive? A large man, he'd rip her asunder.

She moistened her lips. His eyes flared before he looked away.

"Join hands." Father Ambrose grasped her right hand and presented it to Iain who clasped her fingers with his left.

She gasped. A tingle spread gooseflesh up her arm. Iain's lips quirked into the first smile she'd seen from him since she'd arrived at Castle Lachlan.

The friar cleared his throat. "Is there any among the gathered with reason this couple should not wed?"

Mairi flinched when something pricked her arse. She looked over her shoulder, but no one was there. She raised her gaze to Iain.

His eyes sobered with concern and he fingered the ornamental dagger handle protruding from a sheath at his waist with his free hand.

"I pronounce thee man and wife."

Grumbling rose from the crowd, and Iain's expression turned fierce. No one dared step forward to denounce the union on fear of retribution.

 

With his palm cradling her back, Iain guided his new wife through the gathering of clansmen loitering within his council chamber toward the dais and head table. Silky strands of strawberry blond hair caressed his fingers. Lavender teased his senses. She seemed a wee, fragile lass, but after gazing into her silver eyes, he sensed her backbone. She'd need it to endure the challenging times ahead.

"He is a fool to wed a Campbell." The whisper came from amidst the crowd.

He felt Mairi flinch through the fabric of her silver gown, and he clamped his jaw tight. They could say what they wanted. He'd set his course. Marriage was the only way to ensure peace and prosperity.

Iain seated his wife to his right. He supposed he should say something to soothe her, but he wasn't adept with sweet words.

"Ignore the barbs. I am pleased with you, wife."

"And I with you, husband." Her eyes spoke volumes to the contrary, though her notion of duty would change when he convinced her to…

He couldn't hope for love, but would settle for trust.

"Quiet," he bellowed at the noisy crowd and inclined his head to the friar.

As Father Ambrose rose to say grace, the feast vanished from the tables in a fine, gray mist. Surprised and angry voices echoed through the chamber.

Iain slammed a fist on the table. Munn. The damn brùnaidh caused this havoc.

"Ach, my apologies. I shall ensure the situation remedied," Iain stammered as he clasped Mairi's hand and stood. "Please, come with me, my dear. We will see to the feast for our guests."

Wide eyes searched his face, but she rose without question and followed him to the vaults along with several servants. All was quiet. They found no trace of Munn or the stolen victuals.

Dropping Mairi's hand, Iain raised his arm in the air. "Where are you wee man? Where is my wedding feast? Show yourself or I will banish you to the darkest, coldest, cruelest corner of the Highlands."

Silence. Then a faint jingle of silver spoons tingled in the damp air.

Iain sighed. His ranting got them nowhere.

"Munn, return the feast. Dinnae disgrace the MacLachlan name or your own by forcing me to serve our Campbell guests naught but scraps."

"Ach, aye. The Campbells will enjoy the fine catch from our braw rivers and the bounty of our woods. 'Twill naught be long until the Campbells steal our fair lands as well," Munn muttered though he remained invisible.

"Please." Mairi stepped forward and sweetly implored.

Part of the feast was thrust into the hands of servants, the rest landed upon tables that appeared along with the food.

With a nod from Iain, the servants rushed to serve the dishes to the guests.

When he caught Mari's gaze, he expected to glimpse horror. Instead, she laughed. "I see we both have wielders of magic. And I think your Munn may have pinched me during the ceremony."

"What?"

"I have forgiven him. And I will explain about Caitrina after the feast."

Iain didn't care who Caitrina was. He wanted to kiss his persuasive wife. And that was what he did. When she melted into him, his heart leapt with joy.

 Copyright 2011-2012 Dawn Marie Hamilton

Although this legend ends happily for Mairi and Iain, Munn held hatred for the Campbells deep within his soul for generations.

To learn more about the brùnaidh—the Scottish brownie visit my post from last month.

The Brùnaidh (Scottish Brownie)

By Dawn Marie Hamilton

I'm excited about the launch of our new Celtic Hearts blog. A big thank you to everyone who made this site possible. Great job!

For those of you who know me—you've probably had first hand experience with my vivid imagination. When I sat to write my first romance story, I decided to write a Scottish time travel because the genre was one of my favorites as a reader. After doing a lot of research, I also decided to include fantasy elements—fae creatures.

One of these creatures is the brùnaidh.

Contradictory information regarding the diminutive creatures known to the Lowland Scots as brownie and to those who speak the Scottish Gaelic as brùnaidh abounds. I've seen where the brùnaidh is mistakenly lumped together with the ùruisg and the gruagach but each is a separate species of otherworldly creature, the brùnaidh being of the household, whereas the others are creatures of nature.

Some say brownies evolved from the lore of the elf, and in my mind, they have similar physical characteristics. The included drawing is of an ancient elf, but his image is similar to the one I imagine for a brownie.

My first exposure to brownies was as a young Girl Scout. Scouting Brownies take their name from the folklore brownies, as the wee men are a model for the young girls due to the brownie's penchant to assist in household chores, asking for only a bowl of cream or a honey cake for payment.

I became reacquainted with the brùnaidh while doing research for that very first romance story I mentioned earlier. Thus was born my Garden Gate series, which revolves around the MacLachlan clan, who resided at Old Castle Lachlan on the shore of Loch Fyne. The clan has several legends regarding their clan brownie. The History and Legends of Clan MacLachlan, written and edited by James A. Finegan, states, "The MacLachlan's brounie, known as both Harry and Munn, has been associated with the clan for so many generations that no one really knows when the brounie first appeared." The legends are from 1746 and before.

In the classic work, Faeries, from Brian Froud and Alan Lee—I have the twenty-fifth anniversary edition—brownies are introduced as a species of faerie. The brownie is described as a shaggy male of short stature, no more than twenty-five inches tall, wearing either tattered garments or nothing at all. It is also suggested that brownies living in the Highlands have no fingers or toes, whereas those living in the Lowlands have no noses.

Other references tell a different tale. "In appearance, they (brownies) have been variously described, from squat, shaggy, naked creatures to tall, handsome and well proportioned. They usually kept to themselves, being mostly solitaries, unlike the fairies who were notably gregarious." –Scottish Fairy Belief by Lizanne Henderson and Edward J. Cowan

Although few brownie names are known, there are some who've achieved notoriety: Billie Blin, Aiken Drum, Wag-at-the-wa', and Puddlefoot. With Meg Mullach, also known as Hairy Meg, being one of the few females.

Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, by John Gregorson Campbell, is available on the internet for download and provides additional references to the wee men.

Writers: Have you included Celtic mythological creatures in your romance stories?

Readers: Have you read a story including such creatures? What did you like or dislike?