URSILLA AND HER SELKIE LOVER

(folk tale from the Orkney Islands, told by Tom Muir, recorded by Sean Lewis)

In Orkney selkie stories are well known, where seals can remove their skins to reveal a human form underneath. They are of great beauty and men will steal a selkie woman’s skin to force her to live with him as his wife, until such time as she finds the skin’s hiding place and returns to the sea. In this variation of the tale it is a human woman who takes control of the situation and chooses a selkie man to be her lover, as her pride has led her to make a bad marriage. This story was collected by Walter Traill Dennison (1825-94), a folklorist from the island of Sanday. He changed the name of the woman as he didn’t want to embarrass her descendants, which included himself. I had it republished in the book ‘Orkney Stories & Sea Legends’ that commemorated the centenary of his death and have told it many times. (Tom)



Ursilla Balfour was the daughter of the laird of Stronsay, his only child and heir to his estate. She was a beautiful young woman, but she was proud, overbearing, strong willed and quick to anger. Her father tried to push her into marriage; not for love but as a good financial business transaction. If she married the son of another laird then it would unite two wealthy families and increase their fortune and reputation. But Ursilla was having none of it. No matter how hard her father tried she would always send away the hapless suitors who came to court her.

It looked like Ursilla would never marry, but there was a very good reason why she refused to accept the proposals that she received. You see, Ursilla Balfour was already in love. The object of her desires was not the son of a rich laird, but the man who worked in her father’s barn. She watched him go about his work and the fires of love burned fiercely inside her. But she had to hide her feelings and she did this very well for she treated the poor man like dirt. He was often on the wrong end of Ursilla’s sharp tongue and many a row he received from her. But as long as her father lived then Ursilla had to keep her love for the barn man a secret.

One day Ursilla’s luck changed and her father died, leaving her with all his land and money. The first thing that she did was to go to the barn man and say:

‘Right you; get home and wash and shave.’

‘Why?’ he asked, somewhat puzzled by her order.

‘Because you’re going to be married.’

‘Married,’ he spluttered, ‘married to whom?’

‘Why, married to me of course! Don’t you know that I love you?’

‘Eh, no,’ he said, even more confused than before, ‘I can’t say that I had noticed.’

‘Well, I do, and you need a wash and a shave before I get you ready for our marriage. Hurry up now; run along!’

The poor man was in a terrible fix. He certainly didn’t love her, in fact, he didn’t even like her. But she was the laird now and her word was law. If he refused he would be evicted from his house and would have to find himself a new home on another island. Maybe Ursilla would take out her anger on his family and his parents, brothers and sisters might suffer the same fate. No, he had to do it, no matter how much the idea appalled him. Ursilla, meanwhile, wasted no time in sending out the wedding invites to all the lairds whose sons had failed to win her. It caused quite a scandal among the lairds; Ursilla Balfour marrying a common farm servant. How awful!

‘It won’t last,’ they said, ‘six months; that’s all I give it. Marrying so far beneath yourself; it’s disgusting!’

But Ursilla didn’t care, she loved her handsome barn man and she was going to marry him no matter what they said. But the old saying is true; ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure’, and that’s what happened to Ursilla Balfour. Because the man didn’t love her and the marriage bed remained a cold, lonely place. She soon came to realise that she had acted too rashly in marrying the man. But it was too late to do anything about it and she didn’t want to give the other lairds the satisfaction of saying:

‘I told you so!’

She had to maintain the pretence of a happy marriage, but she was a passionate woman and she had needs. If her husband didn’t love her then she would take a lover to keep her warm at night. But if she was found out then there would be another scandal and she couldn’t trust any of the lairds’ sons to keep quiet about such an arrangement. But Ursilla was a strong willed, determined woman and she decided that she would find a lover among the selkie folk.

She went down to the sea early one morning and waited until the tide was full and then she shed seven tears into the water. Some folk said that they were the only tears that she ever shed in her life. As the ripples from the final tear were fading away the head of a great selkie broke the surface of the water and swam towards her. When it was near it rose from the water and pulled back the skin, revealing a strong, handsome face.

‘What do you want from me, fair lady?’ asked the selkie man.

‘I have made a bad marriage and the bed is a cold, unloving place. I want to feel strong arms around me. I want to be loved and to make love.’

‘So, you’ve come to the selkie folk?’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Well, I will come to you and satisfy your needs, but I can only take human form every seventh stream. [1] Meet me here at that time.’

With that the selkie man covered his face and slid beneath the waves.

At the next seventh stream Ursilla hurried to the shore and the selkie man rose up and shed his skin and they embraced. All of Ursilla’s needs and desires were answered that night and when it was time for them to part she promised to come back to him at the next seventh stream.

It was noted that Ursilla was in a much better mood after that. Her servants also noticed that she was putting on weight, especially around the belly. As the time passed it became obvious that there was more than one heart beating inside Ursilla’s body.

When her time came she gave birth to a fine baby boy, strong limbed, brown eyed and with webbed hands and feet. Now didn’t that tell a story? The nurse clipped the webs of skin between the fingers and toes, but they kept growing back again. The nurse continued to clip them until, as they couldn’t grow in the usual place, they spread onto the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet as a horny, thick skin.

It is said that this condition, known as ‘hard hands’ in Stronsay, is still to be seen in the descendant of Ursilla Balfour and her selkie lover to this day.