Pixy-Led: The Survival of Folklore in Anna Eliza Bray’s Tales
Anna Eliza Bray, 'A Peep at the Pixies'. (1854). Classmark: S.W. Heritage 1854 BRA

This blog was researched and written by Evie Bensley, third year English Literature student at the University of Exeter.
The South-West of England is rich in folklore, from Arthurian legends to the haunting figure of the Black Dog. Devon’s landscape, in particular, has been invigorated with stories of mischievous pixies – small, mysterious creatures who reward kindness but punish those who disrespect their sacred haunts. These tales were traditionally passed down orally and offer a glimpse into how people understood the world around them.
Folklore is more than just storytelling; it is a language of survival, imparting generational wisdom about about nature, social values and general community life. The S.W. Heritage collection at the Devon and Exeter Institution is home to a wealth of works that illuminate such traditions of the West Country. A range of these are highlighted in this month’s table-top display Whispers of the West: Tracing the Folklore of the Southwest. Among them lies A Peep at the Pixies (1854) by Anna Eliza Bray, a collection of enchanting pixy tales that left a lasting impression on the people of the southwest.

Anna Eliza Bray, illustration for The Graphic, 3 March 1883
Anna was born on Christmas Day 1790 in Surrey and moved to Tavistock in 1822 when she married her second husband, the Revd Edward Atkyns Bray. She often wrote letters to her family describing the charms and heritage of the landscape, and by 1826, she committed to writing fiction full-time. She published prolifically until her death in January 1883, aiming to create what researcher Beverly Schneller describes as ‘living history’ in her narratives. Her writing helped to preserve the social memory of the South West, and according to Pamela Wootton’s report for the The Devonshire Association (2015), her compelling descriptions even drew visitors to the region.
Encouraged by the poet Robert Southey, both Bray’s fiction and non-fiction alike wove together Devon’s breathtaking scenery, customs and traditions. In her earlier novel, The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy (1836), she establishes her interest in pixies, writing:
“I would say that as no historian has here been found to record the acts of our pixies, I, unworthy as I may be to accomplish the task, will nevertheless adventure it” (160).
Whilst this text takes a more historical approach, A Peep at the Pixies aimed to connect with a younger audience, inspired by her niece’s fascination with tales of Devon’s “little people” (preface).
Although often dismissed as quaint superstition, recent scholarship recognises folklore’s role in reflecting societal norms and offering survival strategies. The Devonshire Association has documented local traditions since the nineteenth century, and Theo Brown, appointed folklore collector in 1952, frequently references Bray’s work, particularly in her Catalogue of Folklore Exhibition (1978).
Historian Paul Manning notes that it was primarily Bray’s work which helped to establish pixies within the canon of British fairy lore, and they could even be called “Mrs Bray’s creatures”. As interest in folklore exploded in the nineteenth century, pixy tales took on an increasingly moral dimension. Folklore researcher Mark Norman observes the common motif that “these creatures are used to deliver a moral message”. This is certainly reflected in Bray’s tales, which go beyond mere amusement. They are cautionary stories, warning against greed, selfishness, or disregard for the natural world. While pixies are often happy to help mortals in exchange for offerings, overstepping boundaries usually led to dire repercussions.
Let us uncover some of these hidden lessons…
Fontina or the Pixies’ Bath

The Pixies Bath, p103
Pools of water have long been regarded as one of the Pixies’ favourite haunts, captured in Mrs Bray’s tale, “Fontina or the Pixies Pool”. Deep in the Devonshire countryside, mischievous little folk protected a spring known as the Pixies’ Bath, where they “delighted to sport on its margin, to sail on its tiny waves by moonlight … and above all, to make it their bath” (103). When the villain of our story, Sir Roger de Stevenson, tries to drive away visitors and destroy the pool itself, the pixies take their revenge. One fateful night he is swallowed by the water, and with their vengeance fulfilled “their bath never flowed again” (130). While tales like this may seem purely fantastical, they also encourage positive social values. This one, in particular, urges respect for shared resources, communal spaces and more broadly the natural world, warning against selfishness lest you meet the same fate as Sir Stevenson.
Such fears about pixies’ retribution continued well into the twentieth century. In Theo Brown’s research papers, a Devon and Somerset News article from 1954 titled “Pixies and a Contract” recounts a peculiar case; a local firm laying water mains across Dartmoor encountered unexpected leaks near a Pixies’ Pool. A contractor’s son had washed his wellingtons in the sacred water, ignoring concerns about pixy mischief, and the unexplained leak was found directly opposite the pool! It certainly seems the pixies had taken their revenge.
The Lady of the Silver Bell

The Lady of the Silver Bell, p139
Another tale follows Serena, a young girl enchanted by a handsome man and his lute who leads her astray from her religious devotion. Her nurse fears she has been subject to the mischief of the pixies and advises her to consult a Cornish wizard called Swillpot to break the curse. He declares “all her sufferings and uneasiness proceeded from a wicked delusion – that, in fact, she had been pixy-led” (145). To break the spell, she must perform a ritual at the top of the waterfall. Yet before she can complete it, she tragically falls to her death.
Interestingly, people have linked being ‘pixy-led’ to more than just old tales and legends. Theo Brown’s research documents cases where temporal lobe epilepsy induced hallucinations resembling supernatural encounters. In 1995, neurologists Sir Russel Brian and E.B Strauss describe “visual hallucinations … of human or animal figures, sometimes of Lilliputian size, of complex scenes which may actually represent a remembered episode in the patient’s past life”. Could supernatural encounters in Devon have a neurological explanation? Even if these encounters are simply stories, Serena’s tale communicates yet another common social value: religious commitment.
The Belfry Rock; or The Pixies’ Revenge

The Pixies’ Revenge, p 152
The final tale from Bray’s collections we’ll delve into warns against disturbing sacred elements of the landscape. On the edge of Dartmoor stood “The Pixies’ Church”, an ancient rock formation said to ring out a “small tinkling sound” on Sundays, calling the townsfolk of Tavistock for Sunday service (149). Ignoring local warnings, a greedy farmer dismantles the structure for his own building work and provokes the pixies’ wrath. Led by the roguish Friskey, the pixies retaliate, stealing his firewood and draining the strength of his favourite oxen. The farmer is eventually forced to seek help from the White Wizard of Exeter (our saviour once again), who urges him to return the stolen rocks. The next morning, ‘The Pixies’ Church’ is restored. The tale is a lasting warning “never to meddle with, or to destroy, any Pixy rocks, houses or buildings, or rings” (158). In Devonian folklore, pixies were often known to meddle in farm life, particularly with cattle, if they felt slighted. The farmer of Tavistock clearly learnt his lesson, never crossing the pixies again.
These are but a few of the fascinating tales found in A Peep at the Pixies. Anna Bray’s collections go beyond simply preserving folklore but provide insight into how rural communities interacted with the world, where respect for nature and tradition is key to a harmonious life. The DEI proudly houses her work alongside so many other folklorists, from Enys Tregarthen to present-day researcher Mark Norman, ensuring these whispers of the west are able to enchant future generations.
The following books are available to view in the Devon and Exeter Institution library:
Anna Eliza Bray, The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy: their natural history, manners, customs, superstitions, scenery, antiquities, eminent persons etc., (1879). Classmark: S.W. Heritage 1879 BRA
Anna Eliza Bray, A Peep at the Pixies, (1854). Classmark: S.W. Heritage 1854 BRA
Mark Norman, The Folklore of Devon, (2023). Classmark: AD 398 NOR
Theo Brown, Catalogue of Folklore Exhibition, (1978). Classmark: AB 398 BRO (PAMP)
Reference List:
Brown, Theo. “Pixies” Theo Brown personal and research papers 1920s-1993, Folder 18, Special Collections, University of Exeter.
Manning, Paul. “Pixies’ Progress: How the Pixie Became Part of the Nineteenth-Century Fairy Mythology.” The Folkloresque: Reframing Folklore in a Popular Culture World, University Press of Colorado, 2016, pp. 81–103. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt17mvkfh.8.
Schneller, Beverly E. “Bray [Née Kempe; Other Married Name Stothard], Anna Eliza (1790–1883), Novelist and Writer.” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Aug. 2024, doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/3291.
Webster, Sheila K. “Women and folklore: Performers, characters, scholars” Women’s Studies International Forum, vol. 9, no. 3, 1986, pp. 219-226, https://doi.org/10.1016/0277-5395(86)90056-7.
Wootton, Pamela. “Tavistock. Report from the Literature and Art Section.” The Devonshire Association, Mar. 2015, devonassoc.org.uk/devoninfo/tavistock-report-from-the-literature-and-art-section/.