These spirits are the lay form ofthe abbey lubbers who used to be supposed to haunt rich abbeys, where the monks had grown self-indulgent and idle. As a rule it was thought that fairies could feed on any human food that had not been marked by a cross. The story of the tacksman of Auchriachan is an example of this. But, by an extension of this belief, it was sometimes thought that the fairies could take any food that was ungratefully received or belittled or anything that was dishonestly come by, any abuse of gifts, in fact. It was under these circumstances that the abbey lubbers and buttery spirits worked. A very vivid account of a buttery spirit is to be found in Heywood's Hierarchic of the Blessed Angels (Book 9).

A pious and holy priest went one day to visit his nephew who was a cook, or rather, it seemed, a tavern keeper. He was hospitably received, and as soon as they sat to meat the priest asked his nephew how he was getting on in the world, for he knew he was an ambitious man, anxious for worldly success.

'Oh Uncle,' said the taverner, 'my state is wretched; I grow poorer and poorer, though I'm sure I neglect nothing that can be to my profit. I buy cattle that have died of the murrain, even some that have been found dead in ditches; I make pies of dogs' carcasses, with a fine pastry and well spiced; I water my ale, and if anyone complains of the fare I outface them, and swear I use nothing but the best. I use every trick I can contrive, and in spite of that I grow poorer and poorer.'

'You'll never thrive using these wicked means,' said his Uncle. 'Let me see your Buttery.'

'Nothing easier,' said the Cook. 'If I open this casement you can look straight into it.'

The priest crossed himself, and said, 'Come and look with me.'

They looked through, and saw a great, fat, bloated fellow, gouty with over-eating, guzzling the food set around. Pies, loaves, joints, all disappeared like smoke. He tapped a cask and emptied it almost to the dregs in a twinkling.

'How does this scoundrel come here?' said the taverner. 'By what right does he devour my goods?'

'This is the Buttery Spirit,' said his Uncle, 'who has power over all ill-got gains and all dishonestly prepared food. If you wish to prosper you must leave these wicked ways. Seek God, deal honestly, serve your guests with good will. Your gains will be small but certain, and you will be happy.'

With that he left his nephew, and did not return for several years. When he came back he saw a different scene. The tavern was clean and prosperous, the food was good, the taverner was in high repute in the town and on his way to becoming a burgess. The priest told him to open the window again and there they saw the wretched Buttery Spirit, lean, hollow-bellied, tottering on a stick, stretching out in vain for the good things which were set on the shelves, with no strength to lift even an empty glass, let alone a bottle, in the last extremity and fast withering away. The taverner had found that honesty is the best policy.

George Macdonald mentions another spirit, the Cellar Demon, but he seems to be of a different kind, for his function is to protect the cellar from depredations, while the Buttery Spirit has no moral intentions and inadvertently brings it about that ill-gotten gains do not prosper.

[Motif: F473.6.3]