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Long ago, Johnny Croy
of Volyar was the bravest, boldest and bonniest man in all the broken
isles of Orkney. Many a fair lass cast longing glances towards
young Johnny, but never a one did he care for.
Now it happened one day that Johnny went to seek driftwood on the
shore on the west side of Sanday. The tide was well out, and he was
threading his way through the big boulders under the crags.
Suddenly he heard the most lovely voice singing a strange sweet
tune. For a moment he stood dumbfounded with the beauty of the
music. It came from the other side of a big point of the crag, and
when Johnny peeped around it, he saw a wonderful sight. On a
weed-covered rock sat a mermaid, combing her long hair. Like
brightest gold it shone and flowed down over her white shoulders
like sunshine over snow. A silvery, glistening petticoat hung down
from her waist, the train of it folded together so that it lay behind
her like the tail of a fish. And all the while she combed, she sang
her bewitching song.
Johnny Croy was overcome with love for this beautiful creature.
She sat with her back to the sea, and he got down and crept quietly
among the boulders to get between her and the water. Every glance he
cast at her over the stones made his heart burn more with love.
Quietly, he crept up, coming within a few feet of her. Still she
combed, and still she sang. Then Johnny sprang forward, threw his
arms around her, and kissed her. She leaped to her feet (for two
pretty white feet she had under the silvery petticoats) and gave
Johnny such a wallop that he was thrown flat on the rocks. Gathering
here shimmering train over her arm, she ran down to the sea. As
Johnny scrambled to his feet, he spied the sea maid's golden comb on
the sand. She was out in the water now, staring at him with all her
eyes, angry at being so rudely kissed, yet with love growing fast in
her heart. Se knew well that only if she could take a mortal lover
could she keep her youth and beauty.
Johnny held up the golden comb and cried, "Thanks to thee, my
bonny lass, for this love-token!"
The mermaid gave a bitter cry. "Alas, alas! My golden comb! Oh,
give me back my golden comb! To lose it will shame me before all my
people! Oh, give me back my golden comb!"
"O no, my sweet!" says Johnny. "Come you and live on land with
me, for never can I love another now."
"Not so," replied the mermaid. "I cannot live in your cold land.
I cannot bide your black rain and your white snow. And your hot sun
and smoky fires would wizen me up in a week. Come with me, my bonny
lad. I'll make you a chief among the Fin Folk. Come away, come away
with me."
"O, no," said Johnny. "You cannot entice me - I was not born
yesterday. But come you to my stately house at Volyar. There I have
plenty of gear; I have cows and sheep. I will make you mistress of
all my store. Never shall you want for what I can give you."
But the mermaid shook her head and replied, "Come, come now with
me, my bonnie man. I will set you in a crystal palace under the sea.
There the sunbeams never blind, there the winds do not blow, and the
raindrops never fall. Oh, come away with me, and be my love, and we
shall both be happy as the day is long."
"It is for the lass to follow the lad," said Johnny Croy. "Just
come away and bide with me, my darling Gem-de-Lovely." So there they
stood, each tempting the other. And the longer they gazed, the better
they loved. But at last Gem-de-Lovely saw folk coming far airway.
Bidding Johnny farewell, she swam out to sea, singing mournfully,
"Alas, alas. My golden comb. Alas, my bonnie man."
Johnny watched her go, her golden locks shining over her white
shoulder s like sunbeams glinting over sea-foam. Then he went home
with a sore heart, carrying the treasured golden comb. His mother was
a Spae-Wife (a wise woman), and Johnny Croy told her his tale and
asked her advice. "Great fool that you are!" said his mother
sharply. "To fall in love with a sea maid when any land lass would
be glad of you! But men will be fools all the world over. To bring
this sea wife to you, you must keep her comb well hidden; it is her
dearest treasure. Keep it, and you have power over her. But be wise,
my son. Take my advice. Cast the comb into the sea, and forget her.
The folk of the sea are not of God's people."
But Johnny Croy could not do that. "Then," said Grannie Croy,
"she may make a bright summer for you, but it will end in a woeful
winter. I have seen that you will ride your own road, though you sink
in the quagmire at its end. Only one I can save - I would it were you,
my son. But what will be, will be."
Well, Johnny went about his work like one bewitched, thinking all
the while of his Gem-de-Lovely and the cautionary words of his
mother. But he put the Comb up safely for all that.
Then came a night when he could not sleep for tossing about and
thinking of his lost love. Towards morning he dozed, and at day-break
was wakened by beautiful music. He lay a while as if enchanted: it
was the voice that he had last heard at the shore. Opening his eyes
he saw that Gem-de-Lovely was sitting at the foot of the bed, the
most beautiful being that ever gladdened a man's eyes. Her face was
so fair, her hair so gleaming, and her dress so splendid that Johnny
took her for a vision and tried to say a prayer. But never a sword of
a prayer came to his lips.
"My bonnie man," said the mermaid, "I'm come to ask again for my
golden comb. I'm come to see if you will live with me in my crystal
palace under the waves."
"No," said Johnny. "No, that I cannot do. But unless you bide
with me now and be my loving wife, my heart will surely break."
"I will make you a fair offer," said Gem-de-Lovely. "I will be
your wife. I will live here with you for seven years, if you will
swear to come with me and all that's mine, to see my own folk at the
end of that time." At that, Johnny jumped out of bed, fell on his
knees before her, and swore to keep the bargain.
And so they were married. Gem-de-Lovely shivered and shook as they
came to the church, and stuffed her hair in her ears as the priest
prayed. But folks soon forgot that, for a bonnier bride was never
seen in Orkney. Her face was as lovely as the dawn; her dress shone
with silver and gold; and every pearl in her necklace was as big as
a cockle shell. Gem-de-Lovely was a frugal, loving wife to Johnny
Croy. She baked the best bread in the island, and brewed the
strongest ale. She was the best spinner in all the countryside.
For seven years, everything at Volyar was in good order: the sheep
and the cattle thrived; the barns were full. All things went merry
as a Yuletide from one year to the next. But all good things must
end; and the seventh year drew to a close.
Then; you may believe there was a stir in making ready for a
long sea voyage. Johnny said little, but he thought much.
Gem-de-Lovely was brisk and busy, and wore a far-away look. By now,
they had seven bonnie bairns, all as strong and well-favored as their
parents. Each of them in turn had been weaned in Grannie Croy's little
house, and now she had the youngest sleeping in her own room. And
what do you think Grannie Croy did on the eve of the day when the
seven years ended. She rose in the midnight, and blew up the ashes
in the fire. She made a cross of wire and heated it red-hot in the
glowing embers. And then she laid the red-hot cross on the bare seat
of the babe, he screeching like a demon all the awhile. In the
morning when they were fully equipped, Gem-de-Lovely walked down to
the boat. And oh she was a picture. Stately and splendid as a queen
in her shining dress with the great pearls gleaming on her neck, she
came to the beach. There was her Goodman, Johnny Croy with her six
eldest bairns.
There also was Grannie Croy', sitting on a stone with the tear in
her eye. Gem-de-Lovely sent up the servants to Grannie Croy's little
house to bring the seventh bairn down in his cradle. Back they came,
telling her that the four of them could not budge it one inch. A
cloud came over her beautiful face. She ran up to the house and tried
to move the cradle. Not an inch would it budge. She flung back the
blanket to lift the babe out in her arms. But the moment she touched
him, she felt a dreadful burning and started back with a wild
scream. Down to the beach she went, her head hanging and the tears
streaming from her deep blue eyes. And all the awhile, Grannie Croy
sat on the stone with the tears on her cheek and a half-smile on her
lips.
As the boat pushed off, they heard Gem-de-Lovely lamenting sore.
"Alas, alas, for my bonnie boy! Alas, that I must leave one to live
and die on dry land!" The wind blew; the sail filled. The boat turned
to the west and swiftly disappeared. Johnny Croy and his fair wife
and their six eldest bairns inhere never more seen in Orkney.
But Grannie Croy nursed up the babe that was left, and she named
him Corsa Croy (Croy of the Cross). He grew up the bravest, the
boldest and the bonniest man in the islands. When his grandmother
died, Corsa Croy took to the sword. Far over seas he advent on
crusade to fight the Pagans in the Holy Land.
And men said that enemies fell before his blade like thistles to
the reaping-hook.
Corsa Croy became rich and famous. He married a great jarl's
daughter and settled in the south country. He and his wife had many
bairns and long life and happiness, for the descendants of the
sea-folk are always handsome and always lucky.