This was the old opinion as I rede.”
The old Welsh bards were accustomed to sing their belief that King Arthur was not dead, but conveyed away by the fairies into some charmed spot where he should remain awhile, and then return again to reign with undiminished power. These wondrous inhabitants of Elf-land—these Fays, Fairies, Elves, Little Folk, Pixies, Hobgoblins, Kobolds, Dwarfs, Pigmies, Gnomes, and Trolls are all more or less associated with the plant kingdom. They make their habitations in the leafy branches of trees, or dwell in the greater seclusion of their hollow trunks; they dally and gambol among opening buds and nodding blossoms; they hide among blushing Roses and fragrant shrubs; they dance amid the Buttercups, Daisies, and Meadow-Sweet of the grassy meads; and, as Shakspeare says, they “use flowers for their charactery.”
Grimm tells us that in Germany the Elves are fond of inhabiting Oak trees, the holes in the trunks of which are deemed by the people to be utilised by the Fairies as means of entry and exit. A similar belief is entertained by the Hindus, who consider holes in trees as doors by which the inhabiting spirit passes in and out. German elves are also fond of frequenting Elder-trees.
The Esthonians believe that during a thunder-storm, and in order to escape from the lightning, the timorous Elves burrow several feet beneath the roots of the trees they inhabit. As a rule these forest Elves are good-natured: if they are not offended, not only will they abstain from harming men, but they will even do them a good turn, and teach them some of the mysteries of nature, of which they possess the secret.
The Elves were in former days thought to practise works of mercy in the woods, and a certain sympathetic affinity with trees became thus propagated in the popular faith. The country-folk were careful not to offend the trees that were inhabited by Fairies, and they never sought to surprise the Elfin people in their mysterious retreats, for they dreaded the power of these invisible creatures to cause ill-luck or some unfortunate malady to fall on those against whom they had a spite. Even deaths were sometimes laid at their door.
A German legend relates that as a peasant woman one day tried to uproot the stump of an old tree in a Fir forest, she became so feeble that at last she could scarcely manage to walk. Suddenly, while endeavouring to crawl to her home, a mysterious-looking man appeared in the path before the poor woman, and upon hearing what was the matter with her, he at once remarked that she had wounded an Elf. If the Elf got well, so would she; but if the Elf should unfortunately perish, she would also assuredly die. The stump of the old Fir-tree was the abode of an Elf, and in endeavouring to uproot it, the woman had unintentionally injured the little creature. The words of the mysterious personage proved too true. The peasant languished for some time, but drooped and died on the same day as the wounded Elf. To this day, in the vast forests of Germany and Russia, instead of uprooting old Firs, the foresters, remembering the Elfish superstition, always chop them down above the roots.
In the Indian legend of Sâvitri, the youthful Satyavant, while felling a tree, perspires inordinately, is overcome with weakness, sinks exhausted, and dies. He had mortally wounded the Elf of the tree. Since the days of Æsop it has become a saying that Death has a weakness for woodmen.
In our own land, Oaks have always been deemed the favourite abodes of Elves, and wayfarers, upon approaching groves reputed to be haunted by them, used to think it judicious to turn their coats for good luck. Thus Bishop Corbet, in his Iter Boreale, writes:—
“William found
A means for our deliverance: ‘Turn your cloakes,’