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“Goblinproofing
One’s Chicken Coop” is now part of the Little
Wonder Series. Learn more at the Little
Wonder page.
Surely
there is no pursuit more rewarding than the gentlemanly
art of chickenry. For a minor initial investment an individual
can provide boundless meat and eggs for himself and his
family, as well as a natural alarm clock in the form of
the rooster's crow at dawn. The forces of the dark fey never
truly let man rest, however, and the threat of a goblin
intrusion into the hencottage is a danger that can destroy
a fine coop, its residents, and the very will of the farmer.
A few simple checks and alterations to your existing coop
can keep your hencottage secure against this unbearable
prospect.
Goblins
are known to lodge in chicken coops in two ways: as willing
tenants and as changelings. The former either wander into
the hencottage and decide to stay or are trapped. (See the
paragraphs below on ley lines.) The latter are exchanged
during infancy for a hen of your own. (Goblins love eggs
for food and pranks.) Both types are hazardous, as they
will grow into warped versions of our own hens if left in
the coop. Aside from the peril presented by their eggs,
goblin hens are dangerous enough on their own, having tempers
nearly as quick as their razor-sharp beaks.
To
keep goblins from approaching your coop voluntarily, it
is advised to keep the place as spic and span as possible.
A thorough cleaning every two weeks will keep your chickens
happy and healthy and repel potential miscreants from calling
the little house their own, as they prefer dwellings similar
to their kingdom's murky, subterranean haunts.
Nothing
spoils a carefully prepared breakfast like the cracking
of a changeling egg. While so many of these horrifying eggs
look and feel perfectly normal, they have repulsive qualities
that are seldom noticed until it is time to eat. Some are
filled with maggots, others with blood. There are reports
of changeling eggs as hard as concrete, and some that explode
when cracked. A few have beautiful shells that hatch tuberculosis
and pneumonia.
The
Ungerslud family of Cornwall was the unlucky recipient of
a goblin curse via changeling eggs, for the morning after
the eggs were cracked and eaten, the entire clan woke up
with their legs on backward, as they remain today. Young
Ettie Ungerslud went on to become Cornwall's hero at the
National Backward Hopscotch Championship later that year,
but surely you can imagine that all is not fun and games
in a family with a curse like this.
In
all honesty, it's not always the goblin's fault that he
becomes trapped in a henhouse. Often when traveling from
place to place via ley lines, the unseelie fairies enter
into structures from which there is no escape. A small crack
or niche between the planks of the western wall of the coop
will trap any goblin coming from that direction unless there
is a corresponding gap on the wall opposite. Being a rather
stupid lot, goblins are not able to change their course
unless advised. An example is seen in the story presented
here.
A
chicken farmer in Niton once discovered a goblin in his
coop. When the surprised rustic asked the goblin from whence
he came the creature responded, "From the northern
coast." To the question of "And where are you
going?" the inmate replied, "To the far, far south."
Indeed, upon later inspection, the farmer found a minor
crevice in the northern wall of the coop and none in the
south. The kind farmer offered to set the goblin free, but
warned him that there was nothing to the south but the cold,
dark sea. The grateful intruder had no idea he would have
leapt into the ocean with his next steps, and asked the
farmer if there was anything he could do to repay the favor.
The
simple-minded rustic thought for a long while, and finally
decided that the goblin should marry his daughter, who was
very ugly and more trouble than she was worth. The goblin
agreed happily, and took the horrified, screaming girl with
him on his way back to the northern coast. The farmer breathed
a sigh of relief, knowing that life would be good from now
on, his breakfasts safe from repulsive changeling eggs.
Ley
lines are channels of energy that run along the surface
of the earth. They are marked by stone circles, mounds,
and other geographical features, as well as manmade Structures
of Ancient and Mysterious Origin. Since the dawn of the
Fairy Kingdom, the Seelie and Unseelie Courts have used
ley lines as a system of highways, and if your chicken coop
happens to rest upon one of these channels, then brother,
it's only a matter of time before you gain your first changeling
hen. Every chickener should check their hencottage's location
and ensure it is not built on a ley line. On a clear day,
climb to the roof of the chickenhouse and point the tail
end of the weathervane in the precise direction of the nearest
site of Ancient and Mysterious Origin. If there is no such
place within sight as you stand on the roof, consult the
findings prepared by Geoffrey Ashe in his Mythology of
the British Isles, and find an example of the highest
importance on his list:
Ashe's
List of Ley Markers, Ranked in Descending Importance
Mounds (meaning chiefly burial mounds),
Stones (covering various kinds of megalith),
Circular Moats,
Castles (as "evolved sites"),
Beacons,
Traditional Wells,
Pre-Reformation Churches,
Crossroads,
Road Alignments (stretches of road that coincide with a
ley),
Fords,
Tree Groups,
Single Trees (if ancient and named),
Notches (dips in a hill profile),
Track Junctions,
Camps (i.e. hill-forts),
Ponds,
Square Moats, and
Hillside Figures (a recent addition).
Once
the weathervane is positioned with tail feathers pointing
toward the ley marker, squat down and shoot your gaze along
the arrow's path. If you see along its line anything listed
above, be it well or moat, notch or mound, then you may
as well fashion your coop a doormat that reads, "Welcome,
Sprites!" for you will soon be entertaining such guests.
Ashe also advises us that ley lines can at times be wider,
stretching miles across, and dowsers have determined ley
lines sometimes curve slightly. Allowing an extra ten degrees
to either side of the arrow's path may give you a better
idea of your coop's susceptibility to changelings.
Apart
from leaving the door to your coop open at night (which
would clear out chickens both changeling and standard),
or the costly solution of constructing a coop entirely of
iron (which acts as poison to goblins), there isn't much
one can do to the structure itself to keep changelings from
setting up camp. The farmer must either move to a new farm
in disgrace, or-and this option is less outlandish than
it sounds-divert the ley.
Some
readers might think that going to the bother of constructing
a new ley marker is a rash step in thwarting goblins. These
readers obviously don't have much insight. Think of a new
ley marker as you do your chicken coop. It is a structure
that costs something to build, not much to maintain, and
benefits future generations. Foremost, it diverts the ley,
curving it around your farm and leaving you guarded against
goblins. Furthermore, a new site will bring more commerce
to your town in the form of (we must hope) bearable tourists.
To maximize the benefits, set up an egg stand once the holiday
seekers arrive.
In
many towns the local Freemason chapter is more than capable
of building a lasting ley marker. Because the fraternity's
studies focus on construction and the Mysteries, and due
to their precepts of charity and brotherhood, such a task
is well in keeping with Freemasonry's ideals. All that is
required of the individual is an idea of which kind of site
he wishes constructed and a set amount of cash. Brotherhood
or not, stone circles and the like are not built on the
cheap. The secretary of your local lodge can provide you
with a list of site types and prices. Choose one of higher
importance on Ashe's list than the site neighbouring your
farm. Building a site of lesser importance will not bend
the ley. No ley line worth its salt is going out of its
way for any old (or in this case, "new,") hillside
figure. Make it grand. The cost varies depending on guild
and season, but most constructions fall below the £40.000
mark, and can be completed inside a few months. An occasional
delivery of eggs from your henhouse to the lodge will secure
relations.
If
the ley marker you've built is a geographical one (such
as a notch), then you needn't worry about de-sanctification.
All constructions (churches, hill-forts, wells, etc.) require
this essential step to begin the flow of unnatural energy
that will attract the goblins away from your farm. This
is where the real money comes in. Petition the bishop of
your diocese for an official de-sanctification certificate.
Bribery is usually not out of the question in these cases,
and bishops aren't going to settle for a bucket of eggs
every now and then, either. To keep costs down, it is best
to remind the bishop of the increased economy your site
will bring. As a general rule, de-sanctification of a ley
marker costs roughly twice as much as construction.
Once
the bishop has held the ceremony and issued your certificate,
the last body to hire will be that of a dowser, who can
verify the ley line has in fact curved around your plot.
Go to bed early that night and rise at dawn to gather eggs
from your freshly goblinproofed chicken coop.
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