Goblins
are a breed of small, swarthy, malicious beings- although 'goblin' as
a term is often used as a general name for the uglier inhabitants of
Faerie. They sometimes appear in the shape of animals which appropriately
reflects their bestial nature. They are the thieves and villains
of Faerie, companions to the dead, especially on Halloween:
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In that thrice hallow'd Eve abroad,
When Ghosts, as Cottage-Maids believe,
Their pebbled Beds permitted leave,
And Goblins haunt from Fire or Fen,
Or Mine, of Flood, the Walks of Men! |
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© Brian
Froud
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| More than this, goblins
are tempters, often using forbidden Faerie fruits to lure victims to
their doom: |
© Brian
Froud
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We must not look
at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits;
Who knows upon what soil they fed,
Their hungry thirsty roots?
Goblin Market
CHRISTINA GIORGINA ROSSETTI
Not all goblins are inherently
evil. The mine dwelling goblins are generally benign towards man.
The Knockers who inhabit Cornish and Devon tin mines make the knocking
noises that gave them their name to indicate rich veins of ore.
They are generally friendly towards the miners although they enjoy making
mischief. The Knocker is an exhibitionist and enjoys nothing more
than teasing miners by pulling his already ugly face into even more
horrible grimaces and performing grotesque dances. A small piece
of the miner's traditional underground meal, the pastie, should be left
for the Knockers or they will be angry and bring ill luck. |
| Whistling and swearing
also annoy them and are rewarded with a shower of harmless faerie stones.
Knockers are still active in the hundreds of abandoned Cornish tin mines
waiting to lead an enterprising miner to a hidden wealthy lode.
However, the Knockers in an old mine at Chaw Gully, Dartmoor, are zealous
guardians of their mine. Rich veins of tin and gold are said to
be hidden in the mine's depths. High on a rocky point above the
mine sit dark birds, silent and watching. If anyone should be
intrepid enough to lower himself by rope into the black shaft, halfway
down the birds croak, rasp a warning and a knife in a scrawny hand cuts
the rope as well as the thread of life. Then the body is found
neatly out at the top the following day.
--Excerpt
from FAERIES
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