When the early saints intruded on the silent haunts of the earth-spirits in wood or mountain solitude, the earth-spirits arose to resist the invasion. They attacked St. Botulf fiercely when he desired to pitch his cell in their quiet retreats, crying out: a long time have we possessed this spot, and we had hoped to dwell in it forever. Why, cruel Botulf, dost thou forcibly drive us from our haunts?
Eleanor Hull / Folklore of the British Isles / Methuen / 1928 / p87
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