When choosing a folklore topic each month, I find that inspiration comes from many sources. Sometimes it stems from something I read in a folklore book or journal article. Or perhaps I might encounter something of note while performing research for my creative writing. But this time, the internet browser suggested an article to me that drew connections between faerie folktales and the craft of spinning.

I was familiar with spinning as an element in fairy tales, like “Rumpelstiltskin,” but I did not know much from a folklore perspective. I also knew that faeries were considered to live in a similar fashion to mortals, practicing a variety of crafts and trades. So I decided to look further into spinning as it relates to faerie folklore within a European scope, but with specific examples from the British Isles.

A Brief History of Spinning

As I gathered resources on the topic, I soon realized that it was helpful knowing a bit of the history of spinning. In his article “Spinning with Fate: Rumpelstiltskin and the Decline of Female Productivity,” Jack Zipes includes some historical information regarding spinning in society. He writes:

From the early formation of grazing societies up to the nineteenth century, women participated in almost all the work that concerned the spinning. They took care of the animals and helped plant the flax; they cleaned and prepared the wool and roasted, broke, and hatcheled the flax. They did practically all the spinning.

In addition to producing a useful product that could be sold, spinning also provided for social opportunities. Women working in spinning rooms during the day would be joined by men and boys in the evening. Then, all types of cultural activities might ensue—sharing a meal, singing and dancing, or telling stories.

But in 1764, James Hargreaves invented the spinning machine. Consequently, during the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the independent craft of spinning by women gradually transferred to factories full of spinning machines run by men. This change in roles not only affected spinning production, but also how spinning was regarded by Western society. This is reflected in the folktales told about spinners, which we’ll explore shortly.

Spinning Was Also a Faerie Craft

Like mortals, faeries were believed to be skilled in many crafts and trades. It was thought that they lived a sort of parallel life to humans: they worked to meet their own needs, but also helped mortals by teaching them skills or performing work for them.

One of the crafts faeries were most famous for was spinning, and there are many folktales that describe their skill. I also came across two faeries that served as a “patroness of spinning.” Katharine Briggs describes them in her book, An Encyclopedia of Fairies: Hobgoblins, Brownies, Bogies, and Other Supernatural Creatures. Probably the more well known patron faerie of spinning was Habetrot, who came from the border area between England and Scotland. Briggs explains that she is more than just a folktale character:

… Habetrot was really believed to be the patroness of spinners, and it was seriously held that a shirt made by her was a sovereign remedy for all sorts of diseases.

Briggs also mentions a water faerie from the Hebrides named Loireag, who was also considered a patroness of spinning. Loireag seemed to be a little less friendly than Habetrot, though, and would be upset by women who didn’t follow proper procedures.

So what types of faerie folktales explore spinning? Let’s look at a few examples from the British Isles.

Faerie Folktales That Combine Spinning With a Warning

Some Irish faerie folktales appear to offer reminders that it’s best not stay up too late spinning. In these types of tales, a woman is interrupted from her spinning by faeries who have come to spin as well. The sudden appearance of the faeries serves as a warning to the woman that it is late, and the woman quickly goes to bed. In the article, “‘We knew she was a fairy when we saw her:’ How Irish folklore around spinning instructed women artisans,” Brandi Goddard explains:

Despite the helpful nature of the fairies, this folktale is a warning for the spinner to ensure she is getting enough rest at the end of a long day.

Goddard asserts that folktales like these might have been told in order to encourage desired behaviors and pass down helpful daily routines to the next generation. In a similar vein, I also discovered a story which links spinning to the importance of good manners. It is included in The Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries by W. Y. Evans Wentz and comes from the Isle of Skye (Scotland).

This tale describes the consequences of refusing faerie hospitality. Two women were walking and thought they heard the sounds of churning coming from under a small, nearby hill. One of the women remarked how she was thirsty for some buttermilk. A faerie quickly brought her a bowlful, but the woman declined and within moments was imprisoned under the hill by the faerie. The only way to earn her freedom was to eat “a chest full of meal” and spin “a great bag of wool.” However, the meal and wool did not diminish even as she ate and spun. Another prisoner shared with her the trick of wetting the left eye with saliva every morning. The woman followed the advice, which enabled her to complete the tasks. But while she did gain her freedom, the faerie cursed the other prisoner, keeping him captive forever.

As I discussed in an earlier post on faerie morality, faeries did not hesitate to administer punishments to mortals who behaved in a manner they disapproved of. Indeed, refusing the offer of the faerie’s buttermilk proved to garner a swift consequence of imprisonment and (almost) impossible tasks. But if we follow Brandi Goddard’s reasoning, then this tale too, can be viewed as a warning not to refuse hospitality when it is offered.

Spinning, Marriage, and Faerie Folktales

Some faerie folktales seem to imply that women who excelled at spinning would marry well. In his article, Jack Zipes explains the primary throughline of these types of folktales:

The major theme from beginning to end, … is spinning as a creative and productive act, important for the women to control, for spinning will decide her fate.

He points out that this was a reflection of the real desire of many women in the past to self-identify as industrious spinners. I found several examples of these types of tales in Katharine Briggs’ book. It seems that they were common throughout Europe.

In the English faerie folktale, “Tom Tit Tot,” it is the mother who sees value in spinning. As the mother sat by her door spinning, she sang of her daughter who was more interested in eating pies. (Five pies to be exact!) But just then the king came down the street, and she quickly changed her song to announce that her daughter had spun five skeins that day.

Impressed, the king offered to marry the daughter on the condition that during the last month of the year, she must spin five skeins every day, or he would kill her. The mother thought it was an excellent match and agreed to the bargain. But when the last month arrived, the king took the daughter to a room with a spinning wheel and demanded that she keep her end of the agreement.

Frightened, the young woman realized she didn’t even know how to spin! But a faerie with a long tail (which twirls a great amount in the story) appeared and offered to help her. Each morning the faerie would get the flax from her and each night would bring it back spun. In return, she would try to guess the faerie’s name before the month ended. The faerie warned her though, “… if you hain’t guessed it afore the month’s up, yew shall be mine.”

With this new bargain in place, she received five skeins a day from the faerie and was kept free from bodily harm from her husband, the king. On the second-to-last day of the month, she by chance learned the faerie’s name from the king (who overheard the faerie singing in a chalk pit). In the final moment, she guessed the faerie’s name—Tom Tit Tot—and the faerie flew off with a shriek. We aren’t told what happened with her and the king—we are left to wonder what will transpire in the last month of the next year, and whether the daughter will learn to spin so well on her own.

Faerie Folktales as a Reflection of Social Attitudes Toward Spinning

Another folktale from Briggs’ book that pursues the idea that excellent spinning would lead to marriage is the story of Habetrot. What is interesting, though, is that this tale also seems to overtly reveal changing attitudes toward spinning.

The story takes place in Selkirkshire (Scotland), and like in “Tom Tit Tot” the daughter preferred to do other things (in this case roam the countryside and gather flowers) rather than spin. But the mother wanted her to be an industrious spinner. One day, the mother “… lost patience, gave her daughter a sound whipping, threw down seven heads of lint in front of her, and told her that they must all be spun up into yarn within three days, or it would be the worse for her.”

In this story, the daughter does know how to spin, but not very well. She tried her best, but ended up with only blisters and lumpy thread. Upset, she cried herself to sleep. The next morning she wandered around the countryside, then sat near a stream and cried some more. When she finally looked up, she saw an old woman “… plying her spindle busily and pulling out her thread with a lip that seemed made for that very purpose.” (From a quick internet search, it appears that flax should kept wet while being spun, and saliva was often used.) Unbeknownst to the daughter, this woman was the faerie, Habetrot.

Habetrot offered to help the daughter with the spinning and took the lint from her. With the assistance of other faeries, Habetrot spun seven skeins of yarn, then gave them to the young woman. In this tale, the only bargain made is that Habetrot asked the daughter not to tell her mother who spun the yarn (and the faerie ignored the young woman when asked her name). It was late when the daughter arrived home with the yarn, and she was hungry, so she ate seven black puddings (blood sausages).

In the morning, the mother discovered both the beautiful yarn and the missing black puddings. Similar to the mother in “Tom Tit Tot,” she rushed out of the house and sang about how her daughter had spun seven and eaten seven. A young laird was riding along and overheard her. He stopped, admired the skeins of yarn, and then asked the daughter to be his wife.

While the daughter was glad to marry the laird, she was concerned about all of the spinning he wanted her to do. So she consulted Habetrot, who told her not to worry, but to bring the laird to meet her. When the laird met Habetrot and the other faeries, and saw how their lips had changed from years of spinning, he decided that his bride would no longer spin. Instead, it was agreed that “… every head of lint that grew on their land went to old Habetrot to spin.”

While both the “Tom Tit Tot” and “Habetrot” folktales explore the belief that an excellent spinner would be desired and would marry well, there is a secondary observation about spinning that these two stories seem to be making. In both, the daughters want to avoid spinning, even though their mothers want them to be productive spinners. Jack Zipes explains these opposing values:

Here spinning is denigrated either as exhausting work or work that can lead to disfigurement. Though it may lead to marriage, spinning is not regarded with much esteem, reflecting the change in social attitudes toward the metier.

Eventually, even the word spinster evolved in meaning. Originally, it was a term added to the name of a woman to denote her occupation. But as time went on, it included a new definition: an unmarried woman.

Yet as I researched for this post, I discovered many videos, blogs, and magazines produced by people who are working to keep the craft of spinning relevant in our current society. Not only do many consider it relaxing and creative work, but I also see that folks enjoy the historical nature of spinning as well.

As ever, thank you for reading.

Art credit (featured image): A kitchen maid knitting by Hugues Taraval via Wikimedia Commons, public domain