Noble Ladies, most excellent Gentlemen, hear now the tale of Tam Lin, a man so beloved of the Fairy Queen in the Otherworld that she would not let him go, but kept him ever beside her in the deep and hollow hills and would let him love no other. Neither would she let him walk abroad in the visible world, this world of ours, the one we know — but only in one certain glade would she let him wander. Once a crossroads of the Ancient Ways, the glade sheltered a sweet and magical well. A briar of wild roses stood beside, and here Tam Lin could see the moon and sun and stars, never to be seen inside the Hollow Hills. For nine turnings of the moon, he breathed the air of this, our world, though never in the winter of the year. For then she drew him close to her mysterious heart and they dwelt together in her fairy hall with its gleaming spires and emerald floors, and they feasted by the shores of a glittering lake.
While snow covered the world above, they strolled in her magical orchard, where the trees of wonder grew, with trunks of silver and apples of gold, and they felt no strife, and they felt no cold. There amid the Otherworldly joys of her domain, Tam Lin forgot the world above and seemed to dream a long and waking vision of his delight, which he found in the arms of the Queen of Fairy, though what her own dreams might be he could not know, nor penetrate. For she was as fair and inscrutable as the sea, as deep and cool as the forest’s shade, and as strange and wild as the weather.
But then, when spring came again to the land above, she would take Tam Lin by the hand. She would lead him to the bower and the well in the fairy glade, at the crossroads of the ancient ways on the hill of Cartahaugh, and there she would leave him, saying, “This place I give to thee, Tam Lin, for it is my own sweet, earthly garden. But stray not from this glade, my fair boy, for I would fain let you go, and I will not love another while you live.” And each time that this happened, though it happened a hundred times or more, it was as if it was the first time for Tam Lin, and all was new, for he had forgotten his mortal life in this world, and lived only in the moment of his dreaming. But in the wide world, he gained an uncanny fame, for the well in the clearing was known to be a fairy well, and he himself came to be known (and feared by chaste maidens) as a fairy haunt, the wild, green, quickening spirit of Cartahaugh in spring. And a song was spun about the place, saying:
“I forbid ye maidens all, who wear gold in your hair, to come or go to Cartahaugh, for young Tam Lin is there. There’s none who go to Cartahaugh but pays to him their good, either their rings, or green mantles, or else their maidenhood.”
Now, it so happened one Candlemas, when Tam Lin emerged from the Underworld, that a young woman of the hills came to Cartahaugh. She was tall and fair, with a gold band about her head, and hair of gold, and a mantle of deepest green. Robes of purple and scarlet she wore, with gold broaches at her shoulders, and silver rings on all her fingers. Janet was her name, and her father was lord of the land in that time. He gave Cartahaugh to Janet as a gift on her naming day, when she was but sixteen, and the maiden gloried in her treasure, the fairest hill of all the land. She kilted her skirts above her knees and raced to Cartahaugh as fast as she could run to survey her domain, ignoring the warnings of the women. She found the glade of the well, next to the ancient crossroads, with its briar in first flower beside. She glanced about, but saw no man. Only a pure white stag was there, a young buck, grazing peacefully amid the roses, watching her with great amber eyes.
Janet bent to pluck a rose. She plucked two more, and a briar, and suddenly Tam Lin was beside her, swift and silent. Golden amber were his eyes, and bound in elf-locks his long golden hair. He scowled fiercely at her, saying, “Why pulls thou the red red rose, and why break thou the wand? And why come thou to Cartahaugh, all without my command?”
“Catahaugh is mine, my father gave it me,” replied Janet boldly, “And I will pick my roses ‘ere I please.” She stood and faced him fearlessly, and met his golden gaze, and Tam Lin bent his knee and bowed before her. Janet looked down upon his noble form. “Thou art full fair,” said Janet, “and though you do not ask, still I will meet your fee.” Then Janet bid him rise and gave to him her hand. Tam Lin led her to the pool of the well, where the soft green grass was strewn with roses, and here he lay her down, covering her with his sweet, wild kisses. And soon Janet’s green mantle was spread upon the ground, and the air was filled with the scent of crushed petals. And when Janet returned to her father’s house that evening, she took with her a green mantle, and she still kept her silver rings, but she left her maidenhood behind.
Back in her father’s hall, Janet’s four and twenty ladies noticed the change in her. And daily their jealousy grew, for Janet went to the bower of the well each day, to meet her lover. And as their love grew, so did her joy, as the spring wore on and the year turned to summer. Soon after Beltain, Janet’s form began to change, along with her spirit, and Janet’s ladies began to glance sideways at her, and her father’s knights began to worry, for they knew the blame would fall to them. But finally the old lord himself noticed something amiss with Janet’s bodice, and sadly he said to her, “Alas it is, my dear Janet, for I think you go with child.”
“If that I go with child father, ‘tis I must bear the blame,” said Janet.
“For there’s no knight in all the hall, shall get the bairnie’s name.” And spake she then of the father of her child:
“If my love were an earthly knight, as he’s an elvin grey
I would not give my own true love for any here today
The horse that my true love rides on is lighter than the wind
With silver he is shod before, with burning gold behind…”
Then, realizing that the father of Janet’s child must be the fey Tam Lin, Janet’s mother spoke up in fear, “I know an herb in the greenwood, to scathe thy babe from thee.” And suddenly Janet too was filled with fear, for her unearthly lover was not truly known to her, for she only ever met him in the rose bower of the well. How could she know for certain that the father of her child was not a demon? Janet kilted her skirts up above her knees, and ran with all speed to Cartahaugh. Tam Lin was not at the well, and though she cried for him and wrung her hands, he did not appear. Desperately, Janet decided to take her mother’s advice, and she plucked from the earth the herb that would take the child from her. Then suddenly Tam Lin was beside her, and he spoke his heart to her:
“Why do you pull the bitter herb among the leaves so green?
And all to kill the bonnie babe that we got us between?
“Now tell to me the truth, said she, a truth, we will not lie
If ever you were a mortal man, and born the same as I
“Oh I will tell the truth Janet, a lie will never be
It’s truth I was of woman born, a mortal just as thee
But once it fell upon a day as hunting I did ride
As I rode East and I rode West, strange chance did me betide
“There blew a fey, enchanted wind and sleep upon me fell
The Queen of Fairies had me found, and took me to herself
And with her unto Fairyland in yon green hill to dwell
And fair it is, of all the worlds, but an eerie tale to tell
“For every year as Fall approach, once more returns that sleep
And all my dwelling here above is lost within the deep…”
And Janet was sore troubled by these words, for she did not understand them, but Tam Lin could not explain any more to her and would talk no more about it.
The days passed by, and Janet continued to come each day to the glade, and their love became a tender, sad and painful thing. Though Janet pleaded for Tam Lim to come into her father’s hall, he refused, saying that it was forbidden to him to enter into human realms, other than this one small garden of the wilderness. Of what would follow he could not tell her, for he couldn’t remember his existence before his emergence upon the earth at Candlemas, when he had met Janet in the bower. Such were the terms of his enchantment if he but knew it. So, the doomed lovers took what time they had left to them, each fragile moment becoming ever more precious, while Janet’s pregnancy advanced, and she could run no more to meet her lover but could only slowly and painfully climb the hill.
It seemed to Janet that as her belly swelled, Tam Lin seemed to shrink, becoming ever more insubstantial, wistful and sad. Then, on All Hallows Eve, when the last leaves were blown from the trees and the roses had long since ceased to bloom, Tam Lin failed to come to the well. Though Janet waited all that day and late into the night, while a bitter wind began to blow, and rain clouds scudded across the stars, her lover did not appear. She thought of the babe inside her, and sadly turned to leave just as midnight fell and the rain at last began to spatter upon the ground. The wind whipped at her mantle and a high, wailing began in the trees. Then Janet saw a glorious and terrible sight. A great grey faery host was riding from the West, mounted on their fey steeds. They came out of the massing storm clouds that filled the sky and swept down upon the wind in awful majesty. A hectic, golden light danced about them, and lightning split the sky where their magical horses trod.
Janet fell to the ground in terror and watched from behind a stone. The first company rode by, all on black mounts, led by a fey knight of great splendor. The second company rode by, and they were mounted on flashing brown horses, led by another fierce elven lord. Then came the third company, all mounted on white horses, and they were led by Tam Lin. Janet caught her breath, for his amber eyes gazed ahead of him unseeingly, and she knew he had forgotten her. Then a great door opened in the side of the hill and, one by one, the fairy hosts rode in, their light swallowed up in the darkness.
And then they were gone, the hillside once again covering their portal in the hillside with winter’s leafless trees. It was as if they had never been. Janet shed bitter tears, for knew that, somehow, she had lost him. The Grey Queen had taken him back unto herself.
The following day, winter came upon Cartahaugh with a will. Snow and sleet drove at the castle walls, and the animals were put inside their biers and barns. Janet took to her bed, and ate and drank only for the child. Her heart was broken, and her family stood by helplessly, fearing Janet’s heartache, fearing her trouble, fearing the child. The days wore on and then it was Yule. All the castle prepared for the feast, dressing the halls for the festivities, all except Janet, who would not stir from her bed.
And then it was midwinter’s eve, and Janet’s child was born, a bonnie boy with eyes that would be gold, and jet black hair. That night, as Janet lay exhausted but happy for the first time in many a day, Tam Lin came to Janet in a dream.
“A year from when we met, Janet, the morn of Brigid Day
will mark when I return to earth, and win me back you may
Just at the bright and dawning hour, the elven folk will ride
And they who would their true love win, at Cartahaugh must bide
“Oh first let by the black black steeds and then let by the brown
but hast ye to the milk white steed and pull the rider down
For I’ll be on that milk white steed, a gold star on my crown
For though I was an earthly knight, they give me that renown
“And then they’ll change me, in your arms, into a lizard foul
But fear me not but hold me tight, if you value your own soul
And then they’ll change me in your arms into a beast so wild
But hold me fast and fear me not, but guard me as your child
“They’ll turn me in your arms my love into a writhing snake
But hold me close, and don’t let go, our future safe to make
At last they’ll turn me in your arms into the red hot steel
Then throw some water from the well, though burning fire you feel
“And then I’ll change, within your arms, a mother-naked man
Then throw your mantle over me, none other but your own…”
After this dream, Janet slept soundly and woke smiling. She fed her baby, then rose from her bed and met the day. Her mother and father marveled at her recovery, and the knights and ladies wondered what she was up to. But Janet told no one, just smiled to herself and sang songs to her baby, while she waited for the bairn to grow, the snow to melt, and spring to waken the buds.
On Candlemas morning, Janet kilted her gown above her knees and ran to Cartahaugh. She waited impatiently in the cold dawn, a chalice full of well water beside her, while the sky gradually lightened, and birdsong filled the air. At last, the first ray of sunlight shone through the clouds in the East, full on the hill of Cartahaugh. At that moment, a clarion call of golden horns and trumpets sounded, and a great hole opened in the hillside.
The black-mounted company rode forth. They swept past her, never seeing her, dissolving into the sunlight in the Eastern sky, then the brown-mounted company sprang forth. Janet let them pass, but when she saw the leader of the third company ride forth on his milk-white steed with his golden star upon his head, her heart swelled within her breast, for it was her own Tam Lin. And as he came abreast of her, she leapt up beside him and pulled him down, and as she gripped him in her arms upon the ground, he turned into a giant lizard, its dragonish jaws snapping and slavering at her. She ignored her terror and held him tight.
Then he changed into a snarling lion, with ravening claws and teeth slashing. Janet closed her eyes and held on tighter, determined not to let go of Tam Lin, no matter how horribly changed he may appear. Then suddenly he shrank in her arms into a slippery, writhing snake. He almost escaped her clutch, but she gripped him hard and wrestled him against her.
At last, the angered Fey turned him into a rod of cold steel, which became warm and then hot, and then was glowing and burning in her hands, until it became a molten rod of fiery pain. She did not let go but held on despite the fiery torment. She quickly threw the chalice of well water upon the torturous thing she held, and within the blink of an eye, there he was, Tam Lin, his own true self, naked as a babe within her arms.
She threw her mantle over him and knew that this had broken the Grey Queen’s enchantment. No one could take Tam Lin away from her. Nor could they take him away from himself any longer. But as Janet looked up into the furious eyes of the Queen of Fairy, she felt her heart grow cold. For there was a wrath in those eyes so formidable that any lesser mortal would have quailed.
And then, though her lips moved not at all, Janet heard the Grey Queen speaking to her from a thorn bush. And the words were strange, and the words were true, and the loss and loneliness of the fey Queen were terrible to hear:
And then she spoke, the great Grey Queen, out of a Hawthorn tree
“She has taken the fairest knight in all my company.”
The Queen of Elfland spoke to her out of the thorny tree
“Who has taken young Tam Lin has torn my love from me.”
“If what I’ve seen on this fell dawn, last night I’d understood
I’d have torn out his golden eyes, and put in two of wood
And if I’d known last night, Tam Lin, that love would take you home
I’d have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone
“But if I’d understood, Tam Lin, what I must know today
I’d pay seven times your weight in gold, ‘ere you’d be won away.”
And then she was gone, disappearing with her mighty and uncanny host, dissolving into sunlight, leaving only the strains of the sad, sweet fairy music behind her. Then that too faded, and there was only the quiet singing of the birds.
The End
