Elf Arrows, Land Spirits, and Spiritual Illness
Folk Medicine from an Animist Perspective
There is a nearly insurmountable gulf between our modern way of understanding the world and that of our more animist ancestors. To ancient people and modern indigenous people, the world was and is understood to be a web of souls, alive and in relationships of interdependence. Souls might not be the best word, freighted by theological baggage as it is. Indwelling consciousness may be better, although I do want to imply a metaphysical dimension here. Spirits. Everything is a person, plants, animals, rivers, clouds, mountains, even whole ecosystems are persons such as forest spirits or mountains spirits. Personhood is even extended to the no longer living, such as ancestors and the dead in general, as well as entities that never were alive, such as the gods and angels, fairies and the myriad of other non-physical entities that populate the folklore and mythologies of people around the world. Humans are considered to be just one part of a web of relationships among sentient beings that extends throughout the entire cosmos.
In contrast, our modern way of seeing fragments and isolates, breaking wholes into separate and independent parts, and prejudices the mind away from a realization of the essential interconnectedness of the natural world on a spiritual level. It is my belief, however, that we live, move, and subsist in a network of minds and spirits extending through all ontological levels of the spiritual cosmos.
Ancient people were no fools. Though lacking the compartmentalized view of modern science, they nevertheless were skilled observers of nature. Observing the onset of sickness, for example, but not possessing the technologies such as the microscope which allows the direct observation of the microorganisms associated with disease, they theorized about what external forces could be the causal agents for the myriad illnesses that plague humankind. Because these forces were not observable, therefore they assumed them to be spiritual. In other words the causal agents of disease lay in the realm of the demonic or the supernatural in general. Health was the default state, and deviation from a condition of health was caused by malefic spiritual forces which either had their own volition or were summoned via malefic magic. There were no accidents.
Let me just state here for the sake of clarity that this isn’t some sort of retrograde critique of science and modern medicine. It is a call to open our minds to the possibility that our ancestors and traditional cultures today, understand some things that we no longer understand. Modern medicine is an amazing group of technologies that have improved human life in many ways and continues to save countless lives daily. But it operates from a materialist premise that ignores any notion of reality beyond the physical, ignoring ideas such as life energy, subtle bodies, and spiritual entities, which are foundational concepts in traditional cultures. I’m not advocating going back to medieval or shamanic medicine exclusively, but as complementary medicine and alternative healing techniques. Being a Reiki practitioner, I have seen enough positive results from energy and magical healing that have really opened my mind about what is possible. But I would never advocate that people should practice these techniques to the exclusion of modern medicine.
In an Old English medical manuscript of the 9th century, one of a group of manuscripts known as the Lacnunga, the Leech-Books, (“leech” being the Old English word for healer, the blood sucking worm of the same name used in medicine for centuries is so named due to its healing properties) a magical remedy is prescribed for rheumatism, or “a sudden stitch”, færstice, a sharp pain of sudden onset. This ailment was believed to be caused by a spear or a bolt shot by supernatural creatures, who are referred to as smiths, hags, elves, or even Aesir, the Germanic word for one of the races of gods, demoted in this Christian charm to making mischief by causing pain in the unwary. The remedy, in common with many of the charms contained in the Lacnunga, consists of an herbal remedy prepared and delivered to the patient, while an incantation is chanted. The incantation is indispensable to the efficacy of the remedy, as this is not mere folk pharmacology, but ritual magic. I excerpt the text from Felix Grendon’s translation below:
“Loud were they, O loud, when o'er the hill they rode;
Infuriate were they when o'er the land they rode.
Now shield thyself, that thou this onslaught mayst survive!
Out, little spear, if herein thou be!
'Neath linden I stood, a light shield beneath,
Where mighty dames their potent arts prepared
And sent their whizzing spears.
Another will I send them back:
A flying arrow right against them.
Out, little spear, if herein it be!
Sat the smith, forged his little knife,
. . . with iron [blows] sore wounded.^
Out, little spear, if herein it be!
Six smiths sat, war-spears they wrought.
Out, spear, not in, spear!
If herein be aught of iron,
Work of witches, it shall melt !
Wert thou shot in skin, or wert shot in flesh,
Or wert shot in blood, or wert shot in bone.
Or wert shot in limb, may ne'er thy life be scathed !
If it were shot of gods, or it were shot of elves.
Or it were shot of hags, now thee I'll help.
This for relief from shot of gods, this for relief from shot of elves,
This for relief from shot of hags: thee will I help.
Yonder to the mountain flee [hag, who sent the dart]|
Be hale in head! Help thee the Lord!
Then take the knife, plunge it into the liquid.” (Grendon, Felix, Anglo-Saxon Charms,)
The idea that pain or disease is the result of invisible projectiles shot by mischievous supernatural creatures is found in nearly every part of the world, but particularly is associated with the elves and fairy beings of Northern and Western Europe. This forms what we may see as an animist theory of disease, wherein, in common with every other part of the world, even the agents of disease are spiritual entities. The healer, the leech, like the shaman healers of other animist cultures resorted to spiritual as well as herbal remedies to accomplish healing, combining these practices in the context of a magical healing ritual. The mechanics of this technique would involve the production of a trance state in both healer and patient and the application of a red nettle, plantain, and feverfew salve to the affected body parts. This approach would likely combine massage, touch, prayer, and an herbal remedy, all of which would have been beneficial to the sufferer of the “sudden stitch.”
One interesting question left unanswered by the texts is the reason for the malice of the elves and other assorted creatures which afflict humanity with sudden pains and a variety of other ailments. It was perhaps accepted as a given in a medieval Christian context, like that in which we find the Lacnunga texts, that creatures like elves and dwarves, being fallen angels or demons, were simply naturally hostile to humankind, and bent on causing harm as a matter of course. But there were other approaches.
It must be remembered that other cultures before that of of the Christian writers of these texts revered the nymphs, Pans, Sylvani, Dryads, piskies, fae, aes sidhe as well as the alfar and landvættir, of the Northern tradition, honoring them with offerings at springs, sacred trees, and other numinous sites where spiritual presence was felt. These beings were not always maligned and they were once respected, even loved and honored as vital to the health and prosperity of the people living on the land. Perhaps herein lies the hidden cause of the malice mentioned above: resentment toward the human community for its cavalier attitude toward the invisible inhabitants of the land, the indwelling spirits of place.
Once the Levantine monotheism imported by Christianity came to power the situation changed drastically, however, and devotion to the land spirits was punished with varying degrees of severity, as the groves and sacred sites were themselves desecrated in a continuing campaign to move the locus of the sacred from the natural world to the transcendent realm. St. Augustine, continued in a by then hallowed tradition of disenchanting the natural world. In his anti-pagan polemic The City of God, he flatly declared the gods of the pagans to be demons (Civitas Dei, Book VIII, Chap. 24) and the Earth to be a mere creation of the transcendent God and not divine Herself, heaping ridicule and scorn on the venerable traditions of the Classical world.
Numerous examples from medieval texts highlight the continued war against the gods and spirits of the natural world, in which (to use Joseph Campbell’s useful phrase) the Church fathers (note that this was an all male effort) practiced mythic defamation to reduce the former divinities of nature to the status of the evil demons and fallen angels of their own imported mythology. One example from the very edge of continental Europe will suffice to illustrate what was a very widespread phenomenon that continues to this day whenever a Christian missionary effort attempts to displace the traditional practices and beliefs of another culture. Martin of Braga (c. 520-528 CE) was a missionary bishop who converted some of the Germanic tribes residing in the Iberian Peninsula to Orthodox Christianity. He left to posterity a body of writings which includes an interesting sermon that deals with the conversion of the rural populace from their practices of folk paganism to Christianity. It appears from the sermon that the country folk kept practicing their ancestral practices alongside the new faith, a position which we now call “dual faith practice”, and one which was thoroughly unacceptable to Martin who wrote these words:
“Furthermore, many of the demons who had been expelled from heaven now preside over the sea or streams or fountains or forests, and in similar fashion ignorant men who do not know God worship them as gods and offer them sacrifice. In the sea, they call upon Neptune; in the streams, the Lamias; in the fountains, the nymphs; in the forests, the Dianas, which are all worthless demons and evil spirits, who trouble and harm infidels who do not know how to fortify themselves with the sign of the cross…To light candles beside rocks and beside trees and beside fountains and at crossroads, what else is this but worship of the devil? To observe divinations and auguries and days for idols, what else is this but worship of the devil? To observe Vulcan's day and the Kalends, to set out tables, to put up laurel wreaths, to watch the foot, to pour fruit and wine on a log in the hearth, to throw bread into a fountain, what else is this but worship of the devil? For women at their weaving to call on the name of Minerva and to observe the day of Venus in weddings and to be careful about the day on which one commences a journey, what else is this but worship of the devil? To chant over herbs to make poisons, and to invoke the names of demons in incantations, what else is this but worship of the devil?” (Martin of Braga, De Correctione Rusticorum, chaps 8, 16, in Barlow, C.W., Iberian Fathers vol. I. )
Writing from a position nearly 1500 years after the writing of this impassioned sermon, with all of the benefits of the clarity of vision historical hindsight allows, I can only think of the intervening history of colonialism, genocide, disenchantment, and environmental devastion. The demonization of both Nature and the people that hold the Earth in reverence has fueled this destruction. It seems vastly hypocritical, from this standpoint, for these righteous pillars of the Church to be so concerned about the works of the Devil in their rustic congregations, when the Evil one had so clearly ensconced himself in their hearts and their hallowed organization. And there he stays to this day, hidden like a shadow in the hearts of the self righteous, who can only see his reflection in the people they demonize. No wonder the Earth Spirits are furious and wage spiritual warfare on humanity, firing their arrows into our bodies and souls, weakened as they are from generations of disconnection from our matrix, Gaia herself.
As a practitioner of both magic and dual faith observervance, I am exactly the kind of wizard Martin was excoriating in his sermon. In fact, some of the very customs he condemns form parts of my practice. To me the divine is power, the power that creates and sustains the universe. It can be called upon and petitioned by the forms we inherit from our religious and magical traditions, as well as by linking our subtle bodies to the energies of nature, of the heavens, the Earth, the plants, animals, and elements of Nature. To me all of these are necessary. Likewise, there are two main approaches to spiritual imbalances, whether they be in the body or in the land, the propitiatory and the exorcistic. The first seeks to build and repair those relationships with the spirit world, which underlie both health and good fortune, and the second seeks to expel destructive energies when they become unbalanced. This is a common approach found in magical and spirit work traditions worldwide. Both approaches can even be found in the Lacnunga texts referenced above which contains rituals which offer bread to Mother Earth alongside more exorcistic healing rituals to expel elf arrows and counter the works of witches, and the like.
Unfortunately, the common view of relating to the spirits of the world and of place, bequeathed to the West by way of its Levantine heritage, is the latter, the exorcistic model of spiritual warfare, which sees all forms of spiritual beings as demonic. To the extent that the idea of spiritual imbalance is even recognized at all in our secular and materialistic culture, the model for spirit work, promoted by our sensationalistic movies and media, is the Exorcist. Cleansing and purifying space, and sometimes people, is necessary. This is all found in the literature that comes down to us from cultures worldwide, as well as the experience of practitioners. But, it should be practiced alongside devotions to the Divine, the spirits of place, and the ancestors.
To return to our topic: One question that intrigues me whenever I think about these issues is the basic one of what are we really talking about when we talk about elves that shoot arthritis causing arrows here? That this is something “real” can be deduced from the fact that these sorts of irascible projectile shooting land spirits are found in animist traditions worldwide. A few examples should suffice for the sake of brevity.
In the folklore of Early Modern Scotland the lore of elf-shot continued six centuries after the writing of the Lacnunga. According to Emma Wilby, in her masterful exploration of the Life of Scottish witch Isobel Gowdie, entitled The Visions of Isobel Gowdie, tells us “the fairy host would scour the land, commonly taking the goodness, or ‘foyson’ of grain, milk, and other foodstuffs. But it was also believed to hunt humans and animals. In order to make their kill, the fairies used what were commonly termed ‘elf arrows’ or ‘elf darts’; tiny projectiles fashioned in fairyland and identified, by the common folk, with the prehistoric flint arrowheads found then, as now, in many parts of Scotland. Thus armed, the fairies roamed the countryside, entering into fields, barns, and houses to, in the memorable words of one seventeenth century eyewitness, ‘seek a prey’. If the humans and animals that crossed the fairies path did not protect themselves through blessing (that is ‘saining’) themselves or being blessed by someone else, the fairy darts would cause them to sicken and/or die. According to some contemporary accounts, after hitting their victims, the fairies leapt upon the bodies of their victims and sucked their carcasses dry, while later tales emphasize the fact that the elf-shot victims were carried away by the fairy host.” (Wilby, The Visions of Isobel Gowdie, 93,94.)
A few observations about this paragraph are in order. It must be stated that this is a particularly malefic take on the fairies; they appear in the accounts here summarized by Wilby as extremely wicked land demons who held the populace in fear, known as the Unseelie Court. There is a legend that the fairy host, the Sluagh in Gaelic, is associated with strong winds that sweep across the land, can strip the goodness, or ‘foyson’ from crops and foodstuffs, as well as bringing sickness. this reminds me of the idea in feng shui, that dangerous feng sha, or malevolent “killing winds” can strip the Earth Qi, the life force, from the land, exposing a site and its residents to energetic depletion and illness.
According to Robert Kirk, the 17th century Highland Scottish minister and seer, whose 1691 book The Secret Commonwealth remains an important primary source on fairy belief in Early Modern Scotland, the fairies weapons “are not of iron, but of stone, like to yellow soft flint, shaped like a barbed arrowhead, but flung like a dart with great force. These arms (cut by art and tools it seems beyond human) have somewhat of the nature of the thunderbolt, subtly and mortally wounding the vital parts without breaking the skin, of which wounds I have observed in beasts and felt them in my hands.” With these subtle and mysterious weapons, the fairies pierce cattle or humans with their elf-shot, feeding on the exuded life force until the unfortunate victim wastes away. The cure is to find the hole in the subtle body and merely close it with one’s hand. (Kirk, The Secret Commonwealth, 54-55.)
If, by chance, a crofter or her livestock, for instance, were to come under the influence of unseelie wichts as the bad fairies were known, the local cunning man or woman was there to help, by providing a spiritual cleansing known as saining, which is mentioned in passing, above. Lizanne Henderson and Edward Cowan in their informative study titled Scottish Fairy Belief give the following account of a curing prayer and ritual from the period:
“Protective charms against elf-shot were occasionally recorded, for example in the testimony of Bartie (Barbara) Paterson in 1607, who sought to defend against specialist types of shot aimed at the portals of buildings or at different parts of the body. Note that herbal salves combined with incantations were still the standard treatment 600 years after the Lacnunga:
And for useing of thir charmes following, for charmeing of cattell; ‘I charme thé for arrow-schot, for dor-schot [door-shot], for wondo-schot [window-shot], for ey-schot, for tung-schote, for lever-schote [liver-shot], for lung-schote, for hert-schot, all the maist, in the name of the Father, the Sone and Haly Gaist. Amen’.
Bartie had no problem in combining magic and religion. She anointed one of her patients with green salves made from herbs, gave him ‘drenches’ or potions, and ordered him to fall down on his knees three times ‘to ask his health at all living witches above or under the eard, in the name of Jesus’. After the ritual, she gave him nine ‘pickles’, or berries, of rowan-tree to keep upon his person.” (Henderson and Cowan, Scottish Fairy Belief, 71.)
In other parts of the world spiritual defense against arrows shot by malevolent beings was a common concern of the shaman or public magician. We now turn our discussion to the subject of the Demonology of Tibet. This is a fascinating and vast topic and we only have space for the most cursory treatment of parallel traditions. Briefly, the Buddhism tradition of Tibet has a well developed catalog of spiritual entities that, both beneficial and negative, and a variety of approaches for coping with these entities when they become troublesome. There are also ritual methods for placating them so they don’t become mischievous in the first place. Germane to our topic are one particular class of entities known as Btsan. In a Tibetan Demon Directory (What a concept!) translated by scholar of Tibetan Buddhism and magical practitioner Ben Joffe on his blog Perfumed Skull (link here ), “if houses or people and so on block the course of the Btsan, these will be harmed due to being struck by the btsan’s arrows and poison.” (Joffe 2016) According to another text, the characteristic illness of the btsan demon is in this case colic. Perhaps arising like the sudden stitch from the Lacnunga charm.
Specific prescriptions for dealing with the troublesome Btsan demons are not given, however William F. Romaine, (whose writings are known to me from his books on the archaeology of the Hopewell and Adena cultures of North America), wrote in a paper entitled “Subduing the Demons of Tibet” that the yul ihar, which are “territorial deities associated with or manifested in specific mountains; although they can appear in multiple guises. If not propitiated with offerings and prayers, yul ihar can cause storms, flooding, rock falls, fires, and the deaths of livestock and people. When properly appeased and controlled, however, yul ihar can act as protector deities for a territory, a village, or lineage.” Romain continues, “Although some demons can be persuaded from causing harm by supplication or offerings, the control of more stubborn or ill willed entities requires other measures. These range from blocking walls and mirrors to spells and magical symbols and effigies to capture, hold, or otherwise neutralize the demon. Perhaps the most dramatic demonstration is the use of directed energy to subdue the demon” using the phurba, the ritual knife used by Tibetan Tantric practitioners to direct focused energy. (Romaine, William F. , “Subduing the Demons of Tibet”, link to this fascinating article here)
Similarly, many Native American cultures have also had traditional knowledge regarding the Little People. The Cherokee nation, whose territory once extended to include the land where I live and write, had several categories of spirit beings, which are parallel to the European categories. According to scholar Charles Hudson’s classic work The South-Eastern Indians, including the spirit beings of the Upper World, the Sun, the Moon, the Great Thunder, and Corn, corresponding more or less the European category of gods, the Immortals, who dwell in homes within mountains and burial mounds and were mostly friendly to the Cherokee people, aiding them in warfare by sending invisible arrows against their enemies. Another category of spirit being is the Little People, well formed people whose height reached no higher than the knee, much like the leprechauns of Irish legends. They dwell in the uninhabited forests, in caves and rock shelters, and like their Celtic counterparts, relished their seclusion and would visit misfortune in the form of disease, madness, or bad luck upon the careless interloper. The Cherokee, in common with nearly every traditional culture in the world, also believe in ghosts, who if not properly treated could also cause misfortune, illness, and death in the living. Not only human spirits could trouble the living, but those of animals killed by hunters, if the proper rituals were not observed, could cause rheumatism, dysentery, swollen joints, and violent headaches. (Hudson, Charles, The South-Eastern Indians, 169-172.) Interestingly, I know lots of deer hunters who meet with incredibly weird accidents and illnesses and you just have to wonder if there is perhaps a bit of substance to these tales of restless deer spirits.
The list of examples of folklore examples of spirit caused illness is nearly endless and enumerating them here only risks losing track of the theme of this brief essay: that the idea that of living in right relation to the spirits of place, land, and ancestors has a beneficial relationship to one’s fortune and health in some holistic sense. The elf-arrow fired by a denizen of the imaginal realm, works its way into the subtle body, causing internal disruption of the life force, and this is what leads to illness. The elf as an entity is not necessarily a literal wee person, (although they can be experienced that way) but is, in fact, an interaction between the energetic consciousness of the human and the telluric energy of the land and its associated consciousness and memory, which is perceived and processed by the human imaginative faculty, giving it its shape and form.
There exists in the traditions of the pagan folk of Northern Europe, a complex lore regarding fate, the various layers of the soul, and which regards health and luck as essentially a substance which one can gain or lose, or be given or have taken by the gods. This is fascinating to me, and regarding interactions with the small gods of the natural world, it seems like a highly appropriate model for conceptualizing how these beings affect the humans who enter into relationship with them, either by winning their favor or their displeasure. The English word fairy is ultimately derived from the Latin Fata, meaning “fate”, after all. These creatures, whatever they may be, can affect your very fate and fortune, health and luck. It is best to proceed with caution, especially if you live in the forest and the fields, far from the city lights and noise which frighten them away. As the Scottish proverb goes: “Call us Good Neighbors, Good Neighbors we’ll be, Call us fairies, and fairies we’ll be.”
Praxis: If you think you might have a problem with the Good Neighbors, I advise treading carefully. Winning their favor with offerings of cream or butter is a traditional suggestion. Carrying iron on your person and placing it over your bed and that of children is another time honored practice to repel unfriendly spirits. As is the practice of saining, mentioned above. Briefly, saining involves using smoke, fire, or water to drive away harmful spiritual influences. Resembling in some ways the Native American tradition of smudging, saining originates in the magical practice of Scottish cunning folk. It can involve burning juniper or mugwort or sprinkling blessed water over the afflicted area or person to be cleansed. This helpful article explains the practice in detail. According to Robert Kirk, in The Secret Commonwealth, the fairies “disappear when they hear His [God’s] name invoked or the name of Jesus, nor can they act ought at that time after hearing that sacred name.” This refers to standard techniques of the exorcist, in which the troublesome spirit is made to flee or obey upon hearing the recitation of sacred names. If you’re troubled by the Good Folk, and you’re not opposed to using Christian prayers, the recitation of psalms, litanies, and the like may be of some use to you in clearing your space. Kirk further tells us that the Tabhaiser, the Scottish seer, can summon fairies and command them to do his bidding, presumably using adjurations like the type found in the English grimoire recently published under the title of the Book of Oberon.
Helpful Books:
A pagan approach to working with Elves and the like, as well as ritual methods for clearing troublesome spirits based on the Lacnunga texts and coming from a modern Heathen perspective can be found in Cat Heath’s book Elves, Witches & Gods.
Morgan Daimler’s excellent book Fairies: A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk is highly recommended, it gives a well researched overview of the lore and an extremely helpful chapter on dealing with fairies in practice.
Another good resource on Fairy lore and magic is Lee Morgan’s book Sounds of Infinity, which combines lore, original fiction and ritual methods for working with fairies magically.
And of course, if this exploration of lore of the Good Neighbors and land spirits as they relate to health and good fortune interests you make sure to check in for updates on the publication of my own book, the Cunning Farmer: Agrarian Magic, Mythology and Folklore, which will be out next winter, but can be preordered Summer 2025. The book contains a more thorough treatment of these and many other topics.
Wow, that was so interesting. Thanks for sharing!