So Supernatural - THE UNKNOWN: Green Children of Woolpit

Episode Date: April 7, 2021

In a 12th-century English village, farmers discovered two young children wandering alone in the woods. The kids’ unrecognizable clothing and language, along with their startling green complexions, led many to wonder if the people of Woolpit had a genuine encounter with fairies…

No matter how many Disney movies are made, there's one kind of story that never gets old. The fairy tale. Cinderella, Thumbelina, Hansel and Gretel, all of them are classic stories that have been told for centuries. But they're also a little bizarre. Which, like, that's what makes a fairy tale a fairy tale, right? It's so unrealistic, it's fascinating. Today's story sounds just like a fairy tale, but it's a little bit different because in this case, it's actually true. There are multiple sources around the time of the event who documented it. It took place in the 12th century in a small English village known as Woolpit.

Local farmers discovered a boy and a girl who spoke a strange language. Weirdest of all, their skin was this bright green color, leading everyone to think they had discovered real live fairies. This is Supernatural. I'm your host, Ashley Flowers. This week's episode is about the green children of Woolpit. In 12th century England, villagers discovered two lost children with inexplicably green skin. The boy and girl spoke an unknown language that the people of Woolpit tried to crack for years. And when they did, the truth was unbelievable. We have all that and more coming up. Stay with us.

The story begins around 1150 CE. England isn't in the best shape. King Stephen has seized the throne some 15 years earlier, and the country's been at each other's throats ever since. It's essentially a giant civil war. There's not much in the way of law and order, so people go broke. Some of them starve, while others are praying for a miracle, or at least a distraction. Oddly enough, the people of Woolpit's prayers are heard. Woolpit is this tiny village about 100 miles northeast of London, and despite all the chaos surrounding it, it's a pretty nice place to live.

The land is incredibly fertile, which means good crops and stable income. And it's close to the other bustling towns, so the locals are used to strangers passing through looking to buy a meal or, you know, maybe for a place to sleep for the night. But nothing could prepare them for two visitors who showed up one day. It's the cusp of autumn. Farmers are gathering crops near the outskirts of Woolpit when suddenly something catches their eye. Two children, a boy and a girl, are lurking on the edge of a field. They appear to be about four or five years old, with the boy looking a little younger than the girl, and they definitely look like brother and sister. The farmers put down their rakes to go check on the children, but

with each step, they realize that something's off. The children are dressed in clothes unlike anything the villagers have ever seen before. Like the textile or the fabric is unidentifiable. And they're dyed with these colors that are so unusual, the farmers can't really compare them to anything else. It's kind of like someone showing up on your doorstep wearing, say, a tin suit. But that's not even the first thing they notice.

Because as they get closer, they realize the children's skin is literally green. Obviously, this is hard to wrap their minds around. And at first, the farmers think like, I don't know, maybe these kids are just reflecting the colors of the trees behind them? But as they approach, they realize no, these children actually have green skin. Like we're talking Wicked Witch of the West kind of green. Even their eyes have this olive hue to them. When the boy and girl spot the villagers, they start acting a little skittish. I mean, whoever or whatever they are, they're clearly alone and probably terrified. And when the farmers try talking to them, the children eventually respond in this language that none of them have ever heard before.

They have nothing to even compare it to. I have no idea how the villagers earn the children's trust, but eventually they convince the boy and girl to follow them back to town. They bring them to the home of a local knight named Sir Richard de Caen. Now, knights at this time are basically like the medieval version of a police officer. They were well-educated, well-traveled, so they're thinking if anyone can figure out where these kids are from, it's probably Sir Richard. But even he can't figure it out. Eventually, Sir Richard assumes the kids must be famished, so he offers the children some fresh bread. And I mean, what kid doesn't like bread, right? But the boy and the girl hardly even register that it's food. They refuse to come near it and they start crying inconsolably.

Maybe it's the goodness of his heart or the fact that he has the most resources out of anyone in town, I'm not sure. But at some point, Sir Richard decides he's going to let these lost children stay with him. But no matter what he tries to feed them over the next few days, they will not eat. Days go by and the children become weaker and more frail. Meanwhile, villagers are coming to gawk at them, bringing whatever treats they can spare, but it's no use until one day the children spot a food that they recognize. Now this account comes from

two different 12th century chroniclers, a man named William of Newborough, who was actually the first person to ever write this story down, and a guy named Ralph of Cogges Hall, who allegedly heard this story from Sir Richard himself. They both say that one afternoon, a member of Sir Richard's staff brought in a basket of fava beans following a day's harvest. As soon as the girl and boy noticed them, they sort of flipped out and wanted to eat right away. But here's where it gets weird. Supposedly, when the boy and girl went to eat the fava beans, they started tearing into the stems instead of the pods.

The whole time, they were searching for the edible seeds until eventually one of Sir Richard's housekeepers had to show them the proper way to open and eat them. That definitely doesn't sound like a kid who's ever seen or eaten a fava bean before. And whether this version is true or not, it is such a weird detail and honestly so hard to believe, it's hard to take serious. But Ralph and William both claim they heard this story from so many respectable people that they had no choice but to believe it was fact. In any case, Sir Richard and his staff are just happy to know that they'll eat. Weeks go by, and he grows sort of a soft spot for the kids. As far as I can tell, he doesn't even search for wherever they came from.

After a few months, the girl starts expanding her culinary horizons. Gradually, her skin loses its green coloring. But her brother's stubborn. He refuses to eat anything but fava beans, and according to a few sources, he becomes more and more depressed. The whole time, he's growing weaker and weaker until within a year of his arrival at Woolpit, the little boy passes away.

I'm not sure how the little girl copes with his death, but she keeps living with Sir Richard, and allegedly she begins working as one of his servants, so it's not like she's his adopted daughter or anything. The whole time, she's learning enough English to start communicating with the rest of the village, And naturally, the question everyone's dying to ask is, where did you come from? But when the girl decides to share her story, it blows everyone away. She claims that she and her brother were transported from a place no one's ever heard of before. Coming up, the children's astonishing journey to Woolpit. Now back to the story. When the girl reveals where she's from, it's somewhere the people of Woolpit never even heard

of before. She calls it St. Martin's Land, and she describes it as a place that's always dim, like it's stuck in this perpetual twilight. She claims that everyone in St. Martin's Land had green skin, like she and her brother did, and the entire area was guarded by a river. The people of St. Martin's could see a luminous country on the other side of the river, but supposedly they'd never been. The girl makes it sound like it's impossible to even get there. But one afternoon, everything changed. Supposedly, she and her brother were feeding their father's cattle in a field when, out of nowhere, they heard the sound of unfamiliar chimes coming from somewhere in the distance. Suddenly, the two children were overwhelmed by this hypnotic force, as if the

noise had cast a spell over them. They left their father's herd and began wandering into the woods where they stumbled upon the entrance of a cave. They walked deeper and deeper into the cave for what felt like hours, days, maybe even weeks, and eventually they came out the other side. Suddenly, they were blinded by this bright sunlight unlike anything they'd ever experienced before, But they were just happy to be out of the cave and exhausted, so they laid down in the grass, basking in the warm sun, which is when the farmers discovered them. So obviously this sounds a little out there, but supposedly the people of Woolpit take the girl at her word. They really believe she and her brother had come from some far off place where the sun never shone and people were green. And some 400 years later, an English

author named William Camden also takes the girl's story at face value. Camden is the first person to write down what is probably a popular theory. He suggests that the children were wild beings or fairy folk and had come from another world. Nowadays, when we think of fairies, we think of Tinkerbell, right? Like magical little creatures with wings. But throughout history, there have been hundreds of interpretations of what fairies are like. Some cultures saw them as grotesque demons or spirits of the dead. Others believed they were spiteful little creatures resembling goblins or trolls. But in some English folklore, they're seen as mischievous figures with green skin. And by the turn of the 12th century, when this story took place, believing in fairies was still pretty common, but calling them fairies wasn't. There was this superstition that if you

said the word fairy out loud, you would invoke their wrath, which could be why the accounts told by the people closest to the children never actually used this word until William Camden finally inferred it in the late 1500s. In any case, there's plenty of support for his theory because throughout the British Isles, fairies are thought of as spirits of the dead who are stuck in a kind of purgatory. They're not good enough to be angels in heaven, but not bad enough to be demons in hell, which makes sense when you think about how the girl describes St. Martin's Land as being dim. The fairy world is also believed to be guarded by an impenetrable body of water, like the river surrounding St. Martin's Land. And the fact that the children had traveled to Woolpit by cave was another telling

detail. Since ancient Greece, caves have been thought of to be portals leading to other worlds. And in Celtic folklore, they believed caves were kind of like a highway for fairies. Another thing you might not have known about fairies is that supposedly they're great at the art of seduction. Ralph of Cogges Hall, the guy who was pals with Sir Richard, claimed that once the green girl of Woolpit was a little older, she became, quote, wanton and impudent towards people, apparently including Sir Richard. Of course, this could all be part of her role as a servant in the house, or maybe just a weird part of their relationship.

But all to say, there was a ton of superstition and what seemed like evidence surrounding this theory. For all we know, the girl could have heard these stories all her life and decided to pretend she came from a fairy world. Or maybe other people totally made this up pretend she came from a fairy world. Or maybe other people totally made this up and she never said anything about St. Martin's Land to begin with. But I also want to talk about her and her brother's eating habits for a second. Because remember, when they first came to Woolpit, they were basically afraid to eat normal food.

Well, legend has it, if a fairy does consume human food instead of their own, that they are bound to the human world forever, which could explain what happened to the green girl of Woolpit once she started eating human food. Remember, she lost her color and she never went back to where she came from. But what really brings this whole fairy theory full circle is that apparently, according to Celtic folklore, beans were the food of the dead. I'm talking zombies, ghosts, and in this case, fairies. Again, all the more reason for the people at the time to believe the children were from another realm or embellish the part about them only eating beans to prove they were fairies. Either way, when you look at it through a medieval lens, it makes sense. The whole story could have been passed around like a bad game of telephone.

But let's fast forward seven centuries to the year 1820 when a weirdly similar thing takes place. A man named Martin Fugate emigrates from France to America. Martin is an orphan, so he knows little about where he came from. But for some reason, he's been gifted a land grant in the town of Troublesome Creek, Kentucky. So he builds a home on a quaint riverbank where he settles down and lives out the American dream. But there's something about Martin that's got the town of Troublesome Creek whispering. His skin is as blue as the sky.

Eventually, Martin falls in love with a local named Elizabeth Smith. The two get married and they have seven children together. Three of them are completely white, but the other four have blue skin like their fathers. For years, there aren't paved roads leading throughout rural Kentucky. The town of Troublesome Creek remains pretty isolated, so as the Fugate family grows larger, many of them start marrying their own cousins, which means more babies are born in Troublesome Creek with inexplicably blue skin. The Fugates become something of a local legend. Many of them go on to live long, healthy lives well into their 80s and 90s. And it's not until about 1960, almost a century and a half after Martin Fugate came to America, that his descendants

decide to investigate their skin color. Their research leads them to the doorstep of Dr. Madison Colwine, a blood doctor at the University of Kentucky. And after running some blood tests, Dr. Colwine realizes the Fugates are a scientific marvel. Coming up, the Fugates unlock the mystery of the Green Children. Now back to the story. Once the Fugates team up with Dr. Madison Colline, they find out they have an incredibly rare genetic blood disorder. It basically causes the body to produce

an excess of protein in the blood cells, which keeps the body from properly dispersing oxygen. Hence, the blue skin tint. The Fugates aren't alone. You see, in the 1960s, this condition had been reported in Alaska among the indigenous population. They had at least 21 cases of blue-skinned people in the state. People with this condition generally have symptoms like long-term headaches, seizures, and heart problems, but the Fugates suffered none of this. So the question is, how did they live well into their 80s and 90s with no side effects? And in their case, the answer is pure luck. It is extremely rare, but some people with this condition don't have any symptoms. For that to happen, the gene has to be passed down by not one, but both of the parents, which means that Elizabeth Smith, who by all accounts looked completely alabaster, was also carrying this incredibly rare blood disorder.

But the gene was recessive, so she didn't show any signs. In other words, Martin managed to find and fall in love with one of the very few people on the planet who shared his condition. It's pretty remarkable if you think about it. Dr. Colline actually discovers a cure for the Fugates condition after they come to him. And it ends up being pretty simple. All it takes is a quick cocktail of medicine to balance out the protein in the Fugate's blood. Within minutes, their skin color begins to balance out. And just like that, the blue people of Troublesome Creek are no longer blue. The mystery is solved all because of science. So it stands to reason, if there's a logical explanation for what happened to the Fugates, there's probably one for the green

children of Woolpit too. And bear with me because it requires a little history lesson. So the first written account of this story, as reiterated by William of Newborough, places it around 1150 CE, during the reign of King Stephen. But if we jump forward about 20 years, to when Ralph of Cogges Hall, Sir Richard's friend, suggests it took place, there's a different king on the throne. His name is Henry II, and he's known for pitting his supporters against the Flemish immigrants living in England. Many Flemish people have been persecuted, and years into his reign, Henry is still going after them. In fact, one of the biggest battles between his forces and the Flemish

takes place only 11 miles away from Woolpit on October 17, 1173. Immigrants from three towns fight against the royal forces, including Flemish people from the village of Fornham St. Martin, some 10 miles away from Woolpit. In other words, the green children of Woolpit may have been Flemish orphans all along, and St. Martin's land was just a play on the real village that they came from. Farnham St. Martin also fits the location the girl described. I mean, it's close to St.

Edmund's Church, so St. Martin locals may have been able to overhear the bells, which may have been the chimes that the girl referred to. And it's also close to the River Lark. And some 10 miles outside of town, there was a wooded area known as the Thetford Forest, possibly the same woods the children got lost in. Except the forest is actually in the opposite direction from Woolpit. You'd have to travel north from Farnham St. Martin to get there, and Woolpit is south. However, the area around St. Martin did contain these ancient flint mines that looked like caves. Some even had a series of pathways. So theoretically, one of these could have spit the children out near Woolpit. And even without them, a straight shot from Farnham St. Martin to Woolpit is only about a three-hour walk,

probably a little more for two small children, but still not impossible. To be fair, though, if the children were Flemish-speaking immigrants, then the people of Woolpit should have recognized the language, especially Sir Richard, who was presumably well-educated and well-traveled. And that part about their clothing being unrecognizable doesn't make sense either. The Flemish were known for crafting beautifully dyed and hand-woven textiles,

but the colors that the people of Woolpit didn't recognize? I mean, that's just kind of hard to believe. Besides, none of this explains the green skin. But there are a couple of possibilities. The first is that the girl and boy were suffering from a form of anemia, which is when someone doesn't get enough iron in their diet. When that happens, the body is also deprived of oxygen, which can temporarily change the color of the skin. It doesn't work that well in this case, though, because usually when someone's color changes due to anemia, they look pale or like yellowish, not bright green. So the other possibility is that they

were poisoned. This one's kind of a wild rumor, and I have no idea how it got started, but supposedly the kids may have come from a wealthy family. Once their parents died, they were left in the care of a greedy earl who began slipping arsenic into their morning oats. When the children were frail enough, he abandoned them in Thetford Forest, hoping they'd die and leaving him to seize their fortune. Of course, this is just a theory, but it's true that arsenic poisoning can lead to abdominal pain, nausea, and other digestive issues, which might explain why the children weren't interested in eating anything Sir Richard put before them. Arsenic also has the potential to create rashes and hyperpigmentation in the skin, and in some cases, making it appear green. But when you think about

it, if the kids did emerge from the woods covered in rashes, it's hard to believe anyone would have come near them. In the 12th century, there were all kinds of deadly diseases roaming around Europe. If these kids were covered with rashes, the villagers would have wanted to keep their distance. But since they did take the kids in, we can probably rule out arsenic poisoning and possibly even the fact that they had green skin to begin with. Because let's be honest, that would look like a disease too. And there's no local folklore saying fairies are specifically green. Ultimately, there's just no answer that neatly explains it all, which is probably how this story has survived so long. If you're to visit the quaint English village today, you'd still be able to catch a glimpse of the green children of Woolpit displayed on a village sign. Local legend

says the girl went on to marry an archdeacon and that she took on the name Agnes Barr. Together, they settled down and started a family. And if you ask the right people, she is the reason why some of England's bloodline supposedly has a mysterious green glow today. Thanks for listening. I'll be back next week with another episode. To hear more stories hosted by me, check out Crime Junkie and all AudioChuck originals.