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The Golden Bough

The Golden Bough

A Study in Magic and Religion

A Study of Magic and Religion

By

By

James George Frazer, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.

James George Frazer, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.

Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge

Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge

Professor of Social Anthropology in the University of Liverpool

Professor of Social Anthropology at the University of Liverpool

Vol. X. of XII.

Volume 10 of 12.

Part VII: Balder the Beautiful.

Part VII: Balder the Beautiful.

The Fire-Festivals of Europe and the Doctrine of the External Soul.

The Fire Festivals in Europe and the Concept of the External Soul.

Vol. 1 of 2.

Vol. 1 of 2.

New York and London

NY and London

MacMillan and Co.

Macmillan Publishers

1919

1919


Cover Art

[Transcriber's Note: The above cover image was produced by the submitter at Distributed Proofreaders, and is being placed into the public domain.]

[Transcriber's Note: The above cover image was created by the submitter at Distributed Proofreaders and is now in the public domain.]

[pg v]

Introduction.

In this concluding part of The Golden Bough I have discussed the problem which gives its title to the whole work. If I am right, the Golden Bough over which the King of the Wood, Diana's priest at Aricia, kept watch and ward was no other than a branch of mistletoe growing on an oak within the sacred grove; and as the plucking of the bough was a necessary prelude to the slaughter of the priest, I have been led to institute a parallel between the King of the Wood at Nemi and the Norse god Balder, who was worshipped in a sacred grove beside the beautiful Sogne fiord of Norway and was said to have perished by a stroke of mistletoe, which alone of all things on earth or in heaven could wound him. On the theory here suggested both Balder and the King of the Wood personified in a sense the sacred oak of our Aryan forefathers, and both had deposited their lives or souls for safety in the parasite which sometimes, though rarely, is found growing on an oak and by the very rarity of its appearance excites the wonder and stimulates the devotion of ignorant men. Though I am now less than ever disposed to lay weight on the analogy between the Italian priest and the Norse god, I have allowed it to stand because it furnishes me with a pretext for discussing not only the general question of the external soul in popular superstition, but also the fire-festivals of Europe, since fire played a part both in the myth of Balder and in the ritual of the Arician grove. Thus Balder the [pg vi] Beautiful in my hands is little more than a stalking-horse to carry two heavy pack-loads of facts. And what is true of Balder applies equally to the priest of Nemi himself, the nominal hero of the long tragedy of human folly and suffering which has unrolled itself before the readers of these volumes, and on which the curtain is now about to fall. He, too, for all the quaint garb he wears and the gravity with which he stalks across the stage, is merely a puppet, and it is time to unmask him before laying him up in the box.

In this final section of The Golden Bough, I've talked about the issue that gives the whole work its title. If I'm correct, the Golden Bough that the King of the Wood, Diana's priest at Aricia, guarded was actually a mistletoe branch growing on an oak in the sacred grove; and since picking the bough was a necessary step before the priest's sacrifice, I've drawn a comparison between the King of the Wood at Nemi and the Norse god Balder, who was worshipped in a sacred grove near the beautiful Sogne fjord in Norway and was said to have died from a mistletoe strike, which was the only thing on Earth or in heaven that could harm him. According to the theory I've suggested, both Balder and the King of the Wood symbolized, in a way, the sacred oak of our Aryan ancestors, and both had entrusted their lives or souls for protection in the rare parasite that occasionally grows on oaks, and because of its scarcity, it inspires awe and devotion in the uninformed. Although I'm now even less inclined to emphasize the similarities between the Italian priest and the Norse god, I've allowed it to remain because it gives me a reason to discuss not just the broader topic of the external soul in popular superstition, but also the fire festivals of Europe, since fire played a role in both Balder's myth and the rituals of the Arician grove. Therefore, Balder the [pg vi] Beautiful in my hands serves as little more than a tool to carry two heavy loads of information. And what applies to Balder is also true for the priest of Nemi himself, the supposed hero of the long tale of human folly and suffering that has unfolded before the readers of these volumes, and on which the curtain is about to drop. He, too, despite the strange outfit he wears and the seriousness with which he moves across the stage, is merely a puppet, and it's time to reveal him before putting him away.

To drop metaphor, while nominally investigating a particular problem of ancient mythology, I have really been discussing questions of more general interest which concern the gradual evolution of human thought from savagery to civilization. The enquiry is beset with difficulties of many kinds, for the record of man's mental development is even more imperfect than the record of his physical development, and it is harder to read, not only by reason of the incomparably more subtle and complex nature of the subject, but because the reader's eyes are apt to be dimmed by thick mists of passion and prejudice, which cloud in a far less degree the fields of comparative anatomy and geology. My contribution to the history of the human mind consists of little more than a rough and purely provisional classification of facts gathered almost entirely from printed sources. If there is one general conclusion which seems to emerge from the mass of particulars, I venture to think that it is the essential similarity in the working of the less developed human mind among all races, which corresponds to the essential similarity in their bodily frame revealed by comparative anatomy. But while this general mental similarity may, I believe, be taken as established, we must always be on our guard against tracing to it a multitude of particular resemblances which may be and often are due to simple diffusion, since nothing is more certain than [pg vii] that the various races of men have borrowed from each other many of their arts and crafts, their ideas, customs, and institutions. To sift out the elements of culture which a race has independently evolved and to distinguish them accurately from those which it has derived from other races is a task of extreme difficulty and delicacy, which promises to occupy students of man for a long time to come; indeed so complex are the facts and so imperfect in most cases is the historical record that it may be doubted whether in regard to many of the lower races we shall ever arrive at more than probable conjectures.

To put it plainly, while I seem to be looking into a specific issue in ancient mythology, I’m actually discussing broader questions about how human thought has evolved from primitive times to civilization. This exploration is full of challenges because the record of human mental development is even more incomplete than that of physical development, and it's harder to interpret. This difficulty arises not just from the more subtle and complex nature of the subject, but also because readers often have their judgments clouded by strong emotions and biases—much less so in fields like comparative anatomy and geology. My contribution to understanding the history of the human mind is mostly a rough and temporary classification of facts I've gathered, mostly from published sources. If there's one overarching conclusion that seems to stand out, I believe it's the fundamental similarity in how less developed minds function across all races, which mirrors the bodily similarities identified in comparative anatomy. However, while we can recognize this general mental similarity, we must be cautious about associating it with numerous specific similarities, as many of these are often the result of simple cultural exchange. It's clear that various races have borrowed elements from each other, including their skills, ideas, customs, and institutions. Separating the aspects of culture that a race has developed independently from those it has acquired from others is an incredibly challenging and delicate task, which will likely keep researchers busy for a long time. In fact, the complexities involved and the often flawed historical records may leave us with only tentative guesses regarding many of the less developed races.

Since the last edition of The Golden Bough was published some thirteen years ago, I have seen reason to change my views on several matters discussed in this concluding part of the work, and though I have called attention to these changes in the text, it may be well for the sake of clearness to recapitulate them here.

Since the last edition of The Golden Bough was published about thirteen years ago, I have found reasons to change my opinions on several issues addressed in this final section of the work. While I've pointed out these changes in the text, it might be helpful for clarity to summarize them here.

In the first place, the arguments of Dr. Edward Westermarck have satisfied me that the solar theory of the European fire-festivals, which I accepted from W. Mannhardt, is very slightly, if at all, supported by the evidence and is probably erroneous. The true explanation of the festivals I now believe to be the one advocated by Dr. Westermarck himself, namely that they are purificatory in intention, the fire being designed not, as I formerly held, to reinforce the sun's light and heat by sympathetic magic, but merely to burn or repel the noxious things, whether conceived as material or spiritual, which threaten the life of man, of animals, and of plants. This aspect of the fire-festivals had not wholly escaped me in former editions; I pointed it out explicitly, but, biassed perhaps by the great authority of Mannhardt, I treated it as secondary and subordinate instead of primary and dominant. Out of deference to Mannhardt, for whose work I entertain the highest respect, and because the evidence for the purificatory theory of the fires is perhaps [pg viii] not quite conclusive, I have in this edition repeated and even reinforced the arguments for the solar theory of the festivals, so that the reader may see for himself what can be said on both sides of the question and may draw his own conclusion; but for my part I cannot but think that the arguments for the purificatory theory far outweigh the arguments for the solar theory. Dr. Westermarck based his criticisms largely on his own observations of the Mohammedan fire-festivals of Morocco, which present a remarkable resemblance to those of Christian Europe, though there seems no reason to assume that herein Africa has borrowed from Europe or Europe from Africa. So far as Europe is concerned, the evidence tends strongly to shew that the grand evil which the festivals aimed at combating was witchcraft, and that they were conceived to attain their end by actually burning the witches, whether visible or invisible, in the flames. If that was so, the wide prevalence and the immense popularity of the fire-festivals provides us with a measure for estimating the extent of the hold which the belief in witchcraft had on the European mind before the rise of Christianity or rather of rationalism; for Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, accepted the old belief and enforced it in the old way by the faggot and the stake. It was not until human reason at last awoke after the long slumber of the Middle Ages that this dreadful obsession gradually passed away like a dark cloud from the intellectual horizon of Europe.

First of all, Dr. Edward Westermarck’s arguments have convinced me that the solar theory of the European fire festivals, which I previously accepted from W. Mannhardt, is barely, if at all, supported by evidence and is likely incorrect. I now believe the real explanation for the festivals is the one Dr. Westermarck proposed himself, meaning they are intended for purification; the fire is meant not, as I once believed, to amplify the sun's light and heat through sympathetic magic, but simply to burn or ward off harmful things, whether understood as physical or spiritual, that threaten the well-being of humans, animals, and plants. I had not completely overlooked this aspect of the fire festivals in earlier editions; I pointed it out explicitly, but perhaps swayed by the strong authority of Mannhardt, I treated it as a secondary and minor point rather than as primary and important. To show respect to Mannhardt, whose work I greatly admire, and because the evidence for the purificatory theory of the fires may not be entirely conclusive, in this edition I have reiterated and even strengthened the arguments for the solar theory of the festivals, so that readers can see for themselves the arguments on both sides of the issue and draw their own conclusions. However, I personally believe the arguments for the purificatory theory significantly outweigh those for the solar theory. Dr. Westermarck based his criticisms largely on his own observations of the Mohammedan fire festivals in Morocco, which bear a striking resemblance to those in Christian Europe, though there seems to be no reason to think that Africa borrowed from Europe or vice versa. In terms of Europe, the evidence strongly suggests that the main evil these festivals sought to combat was witchcraft, and that they were designed to achieve their goal by actually burning witches, whether they were visible or invisible, in the flames. If that is the case, the widespread occurrence and immense popularity of the fire festivals give us a way to gauge the extent to which belief in witchcraft influenced the European mind before the rise of Christianity or rationalism; both Catholic and Protestant Christianity accepted the old belief and enforced it in the traditional manner with faggots and stakes. It was not until human reason finally awakened after the long slumber of the Middle Ages that this terrifying obsession gradually faded away like a dark cloud from the intellectual landscape of Europe.

Yet we should deceive ourselves if we imagined that the belief in witchcraft is even now dead in the mass of the people; on the contrary there is ample evidence to shew that it only hibernates under the chilling influence of rationalism, and that it would start into active life if that influence were ever seriously relaxed. The truth seems to be that to this day the peasant remains a pagan and savage at heart; his civilization is merely a thin veneer which the [pg ix] hard knocks of life soon abrade, exposing the solid core of paganism and savagery below. The danger created by a bottomless layer of ignorance and superstition under the crust of civilized society is lessened, not only by the natural torpidity and inertia of the bucolic mind, but also by the progressive decrease of the rural as compared with the urban population in modern states; for I believe it will be found that the artisans who congregate in towns are far less retentive of primitive modes of thought than their rustic brethren. In every age cities have been the centres and as it were the lighthouses from which ideas radiate into the surrounding darkness, kindled by the friction of mind with mind in the crowded haunts of men; and it is natural that at these beacons of intellectual light all should partake in some measure of the general illumination. No doubt the mental ferment and unrest of great cities have their dark as well as their bright side; but among the evils to be apprehended from them the chances of a pagan revival need hardly be reckoned.

Yet we would be fooling ourselves if we thought that belief in witchcraft is completely gone among the general public; on the contrary, there's plenty of evidence to show that it only lies dormant under the cold influence of rational thinking, and it would spring back to life if that influence were ever significantly weakened. The reality seems to be that even today, the peasant remains a pagan and primitive at heart; his civilization is merely a thin layer that the hard knocks of life quickly wear away, revealing the solid core of paganism and primitiveness underneath. The threat posed by a deep layer of ignorance and superstition beneath the surface of civilized society is reduced, not just by the natural sluggishness and inertia of rural minds, but also by the steady decline of the rural population compared to the urban population in modern countries; because I believe it will be found that the workers who gather in cities are much less bound by primitive ways of thinking than their country counterparts. Throughout history, cities have been the centers and, in a way, the lighthouses from which ideas shine into the surrounding darkness, sparked by the interaction of minds in the crowded spaces of humanity; and it is natural that at these beacons of intellectual illumination, everyone shares in some degree of the general enlightenment. No doubt, the mental unrest and turmoil of large cities have both positive and negative aspects; but among the problems to be feared from them, the risk of a resurgence of paganism hardly needs to be considered.

Another point on which I have changed my mind is the nature of the great Aryan god whom the Romans called Jupiter and the Greeks Zeus. Whereas I formerly argued that he was primarily a personification of the sacred oak and only in the second place a personification of the thundering sky, I now invert the order of his divine functions and believe that he was a sky-god before he came to be associated with the oak. In fact, I revert to the traditional view of Jupiter, recant my heresy, and am gathered like a lost sheep into the fold of mythological orthodoxy. The good shepherd who has brought me back is my friend Mr. W. Warde Fowler. He has removed the stone over which I stumbled in the wilderness by explaining in a simple and natural way how a god of the thundering sky might easily come to be afterwards associated with the oak. The explanation turns on the great frequency with which, as statistics prove, the oak [pg x] is struck by lightning beyond any other tree of the wood in Europe. To our rude forefathers, who dwelt in the gloomy depths of the primaeval forest, it might well seem that the riven and blackened oaks must indeed be favourites of the sky-god, who so often descended on them from the murky cloud in a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder.

Another point on which I’ve changed my mind is the nature of the great Aryan god that the Romans called Jupiter and the Greeks Zeus. I used to argue that he was mainly a representation of the sacred oak and only secondarily tied to the thundering sky. Now, I’ve flipped that idea and believe he was originally a sky-god before being linked to the oak. In fact, I’m returning to the traditional view of Jupiter, renouncing my previous beliefs, and rejoining the community of mythological orthodoxy. The good shepherd who has led me back is my friend Mr. W. Warde Fowler. He’s helped me clear the obstacle that tripped me up by explaining simply and naturally how a god of the thundering sky could later be connected to the oak. The explanation hinges on the frequent occurrence of oaks being struck by lightning more than any other tree in Europe, as statistics show. To our early ancestors living in the dark depths of the ancient forest, it would make sense that the shattered and charred oaks were indeed favored by the sky-god, who often struck them with lightning and thunder from the murky clouds.

This change of view as to the great Aryan god necessarily affects my interpretation of the King of the Wood, the priest of Diana at Aricia, if I may take that discarded puppet out of the box again for a moment. On my theory the priest represented Jupiter in the flesh, and accordingly, if Jupiter was primarily a sky-god, his priest cannot have been a mere incarnation of the sacred oak, but must, like the deity whose commission he bore, have been invested in the imagination of his worshippers with the power of overcasting the heaven with clouds and eliciting storms of thunder and rain from the celestial vault. The attribution of weather-making powers to kings or priests is very common in primitive society, and is indeed one of the principal levers by which such personages raise themselves to a position of superiority above their fellows. There is therefore no improbability in the supposition that as a representative of Jupiter the priest of Diana enjoyed this reputation, though positive evidence of it appears to be lacking.

This shift in perspective regarding the great Aryan god definitely influences how I interpret the King of the Wood, the priest of Diana at Aricia, if I can bring that discarded figure back into the conversation for a moment. According to my theory, the priest embodied Jupiter in human form; therefore, if Jupiter was mainly a sky-god, his priest couldn't just be a simple representation of the sacred oak. Instead, like the deity he represented, he must have been imagined by his followers as having the ability to cover the sky with clouds and invoke storms, thunder, and rain from the heavens. It’s quite common in primitive societies for kings or priests to be attributed with weather-controlling powers, which serves as one of the key means for these individuals to elevate themselves above others. Thus, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that the priest of Diana, as a representative of Jupiter, held this status, even though concrete evidence for it seems to be lacking.

Lastly, in the present edition I have shewn some grounds for thinking that the Golden Bough itself, or in common parlance the mistletoe on the oak, was supposed to have dropped from the sky upon the tree in a flash of lightning and therefore to contain within itself the seed of celestial fire, a sort of smouldering thunderbolt. This view of the priest and of the bough which he guarded at the peril of his life has the advantage of accounting for the importance which the sanctuary at Nemi acquired and the treasure which it amassed through the offerings of the faithful; for the shrine would seem to have been to ancient what Loreto [pg xi] has been to modern Italy, a place of pilgrimage, where princes and nobles as well as commoners poured wealth into the coffers of Diana in her green recess among the Alban hills, just as in modern times kings and queens vied with each other in enriching the black Virgin who from her Holy House on the hillside at Loreto looks out on the blue Adriatic and the purple Apennines. Such pious prodigality becomes more intelligible if the greatest of the gods was indeed believed to dwell in human shape with his wife among the woods of Nemi.

Lastly, in this edition, I’ve shown some reasons to think that the Golden Bough, or what we commonly call the mistletoe on the oak, was believed to have fallen from the sky onto the tree in a bolt of lightning and therefore contained within it the seed of celestial fire, a sort of smoldering thunderbolt. This perspective on the priest and the bough he protected at the risk of his life helps explain the significance of the sanctuary at Nemi and the wealth it gathered from the offerings of the faithful; the shrine seems to have been similar to how Loreto [pg xi] has been for modern Italy, a pilgrimage site where princes, nobles, and commoners all contributed wealth to Diana in her green retreat among the Alban hills, just as in modern times kings and queens competed to enrich the black Virgin who, from her Holy House on the hillside at Loreto, overlooks the blue Adriatic and the purple Apennines. Such generous devotion makes more sense if the greatest of the gods was indeed believed to live in human form with his wife among the woods of Nemi.

These are the principal points on which I have altered my opinion since the last edition of my book was published. The mere admission of such changes may suffice to indicate the doubt and uncertainty which attend enquiries of this nature. The whole fabric of ancient mythology is so foreign to our modern ways of thought, and the evidence concerning it is for the most part so fragmentary, obscure, and conflicting that in our attempts to piece together and interpret it we can hardly hope to reach conclusions that will completely satisfy either ourselves or others. In this as in other branches of study it is the fate of theories to be washed away like children's castles of sand by the rising tide of knowledge, and I am not so presumptuous as to expect or desire for mine an exemption from the common lot. I hold them all very lightly and have used them chiefly as convenient pegs on which to hang my collections of facts. For I believe that, while theories are transitory, a record of facts has a permanent value, and that as a chronicle of ancient customs and beliefs my book may retain its utility when my theories are as obsolete as the customs and beliefs themselves deserve to be.

These are the main points where I've changed my opinion since the last edition of my book was published. Just mentioning these changes shows the doubt and uncertainty that come with this kind of inquiry. The entire structure of ancient mythology feels so different from our modern thinking, and the evidence we have is mostly fragmented, unclear, and contradictory. So, when we try to piece it together and make sense of it, we can hardly expect to come to conclusions that will fully satisfy either ourselves or others. In this field, just like in others, theories often get wiped away like children’s sandcastles by the rising tide of knowledge, and I’m not arrogant enough to think my theories deserve any special protection. I take them all with a grain of salt and have mainly used them as handy reference points for my collection of facts. I believe that while theories may be temporary, a record of facts holds lasting value, and that my book, as a chronicle of ancient customs and beliefs, may still be useful when my theories have become as outdated as the customs and beliefs themselves.

I cannot dismiss without some natural regret a task which has occupied and amused me at intervals for many years. But the regret is tempered by thankfulness and hope. I am thankful that I have been able to conclude [pg xii] at least one chapter of the work I projected a long time ago. I am hopeful that I may not now be taking a final leave of my indulgent readers, but that, as I am sensible of little abatement in my bodily strength and of none in my ardour for study, they will bear with me yet a while if I should attempt to entertain them with fresh subjects of laughter and tears drawn from the comedy and the tragedy of man's endless quest after happiness and truth.

I can’t completely let go of a task that has entertained me on and off for many years without feeling some natural regret. However, this regret is balanced by thankfulness and hope. I’m grateful that I’ve managed to finish [pg xii] at least one chapter of the project I started a long time ago. I’m hopeful that I might not be saying goodbye to my kind readers for good, but rather that, since I feel little decline in my physical strength and none in my passion for studying, they will stick with me a little longer if I try to entertain them with new stories of laughter and tears from mankind's ongoing search for happiness and truth.

J. G. FRAZER.

J.G. Frazer.

Cambridge, 17th October 1913.

Cambridge, 17th October 1913.

[pg 001]

Chapter I. Between Heaven and Earth.

§ 1. Do not touch the Earth.

The priest of Aricia and the Golden Bough.

We have travelled far since we turned our backs on Nemi and set forth in quest of the secret of the Golden Bough. With the present volume we enter on the last stage of our long journey. The reader who has had the patience to follow the enquiry thus far may remember that at the outset two questions were proposed for answer: Why had the priest of Aricia to slay his predecessor? And why, before doing so, had he to pluck the Golden Bough?1 Of these two questions the first has now been answered. The priest of Aricia, if I am right, was one of those sacred kings or human divinities on whose life the welfare of the community and even the course of nature in general are believed to be intimately dependent. It does not appear that the subjects or worshippers of such a spiritual potentate form to themselves any very clear notion of the exact relationship in which they stand to him; probably their ideas on the point are vague and fluctuating, and we should err if we attempted to define the relationship with logical precision. All that the people know, or rather imagine, is that somehow they themselves, their cattle, and their crops are mysteriously bound up with their divine king, so that according as he is well or ill the community is healthy or sickly, the flocks and herds thrive or languish with disease, and the fields yield an abundant or a scanty harvest. The worst evil which they can conceive of is the natural death of their ruler, whether he succumb to [pg 002] sickness or old age, for in the opinion of his followers such a death would entail the most disastrous consequences on themselves and their possessions; fatal epidemics would sweep away man and beast, the earth would refuse her increase, nay the very frame of nature itself might be dissolved. To guard against these catastrophes it is necessary to put the king to death while he is still in the full bloom of his divine manhood, in order that his sacred life, transmitted in unabated force to his successor, may renew its youth, and thus by successive transmissions through a perpetual line of vigorous incarnations may remain eternally fresh and young, a pledge and security that men and animals shall in like manner renew their youth by a perpetual succession of generations, and that seedtime and harvest, and summer and winter, and rain and sunshine shall never fail. That, if my conjecture is right, was why the priest of Aricia, the King of the Wood at Nemi, had regularly to perish by the sword of his successor.

We have come a long way since we left Nemi and set out to uncover the secret of the Golden Bough. With this volume, we are entering the final stage of our long journey. The reader who has been patient enough to follow our exploration so far may recall that at the beginning, we posed two questions to answer: Why did the priest of Aricia have to kill his predecessor? And why did he have to pick the Golden Bough before doing so? Of these two questions, the first has now been answered. The priest of Aricia, if I’m correct, was one of those sacred kings or human deities whose life is believed to be intimately linked to the well-being of the community and even the course of nature itself. It seems that the subjects or worshippers of such a spiritual leader don’t have a clear understanding of their exact relationship with him; their ideas on the matter are probably vague and changeable, and we would be mistaken to try to define the relationship with logical precision. All that the people know, or rather believe, is that somehow they, their livestock, and their crops are mysteriously connected to their divine king, so that when he is well, the community is healthy, and when he is unwell, they suffer. Their flocks and herds thrive or fall ill, and the fields yield either abundant or meager harvests. The worst thing they can imagine is the natural death of their ruler, whether from sickness or old age, because his followers believe that such a death would bring disastrous consequences for them and their possessions; deadly epidemics could wipe out people and animals, the earth could stop producing, and even the very structure of nature might collapse. To prevent these calamities, it's necessary to kill the king while he is still in the prime of his divine life, so that his sacred life, passed on with full vigor to his successor, can renew its youth. This way, through a continuous line of strong incarnations, it can remain eternally fresh and young, a guarantee that people and animals will likewise renew their vitality through endless generations, and that planting and harvest, summer and winter, rain and sunshine will never cease. That, if my theory is correct, is why the priest of Aricia, the King of the Wood at Nemi, regularly had to die by the sword of his successor.

What is the Golden Bough?

But we have still to ask, What was the Golden Bough? and why had each candidate for the Arician priesthood to pluck it before he could slay the priest? These questions I will now try to answer.

But we still need to ask, what was the Golden Bough? And why did each candidate for the Arician priesthood have to pick it before he could kill the priest? I will now attempt to answer these questions.

Sacred kings and priests were not allowed to touch the ground with their feet.

It will be well to begin by noticing two of those rules or taboos by which, as we have seen, the life of divine kings or priests is regulated. The first of the rules to which I desire to call the reader's attention is that the divine personage may not touch the ground with his foot. This rule was observed by the supreme pontiff of the Zapotecs in Mexico; he profaned his sanctity if he so much as touched the ground with his foot.2 Montezuma, emperor of Mexico, never set foot on the ground; he was always carried on the shoulders of noblemen, and if he lighted anywhere they laid rich tapestry for him to walk upon.3 For the Mikado of Japan to touch the ground with his foot was a shameful [pg 003] degradation; indeed, in the sixteenth century, it was enough to deprive him of his office. Outside his palace he was carried on men's shoulders; within it he walked on exquisitely wrought mats.4 The king and queen of Tahiti might not touch the ground anywhere but within their hereditary domains; for the ground on which they trod became sacred. In travelling from place to place they were carried on the shoulders of sacred men. They were always accompanied by several pairs of these sanctified attendants; and when it became necessary to change their bearers, the king and queen vaulted on to the shoulders of their new bearers without letting their feet touch the ground.5 It was an evil omen if the king of Dosuma touched the ground, and he had to perform an expiatory ceremony.6 Within his palace the king of Persia walked on carpets on which no one else might tread; outside of it he was never seen on foot but only in a chariot or on horseback.7 In old days the king of Siam never set foot upon the earth, but was carried on a throne of gold from place to place.8 Formerly neither the kings of Uganda, nor their mothers, nor their queens might walk on foot outside of the spacious enclosures in which they lived. Whenever they went forth they were carried on the shoulders of men of the Buffalo clan, several of whom accompanied any of these royal personages on a journey and took it in turn to bear the burden. The king sat astride the bearer's neck with a leg over each shoulder and his feet tucked under the bearer's arms. When one of these royal carriers grew tired he shot the king on to the shoulders of a second man without allowing the royal feet to touch the ground. In this way they went at a great pace and travelled long distances in a day, when the king was on a journey. The bearers had a special hut in the [pg 004] king's enclosure in order to be at hand the moment they were wanted.9 Among the Bakuba or rather Bushongo, a nation in the southern region of the Congo, down to a few years ago persons of the royal blood were forbidden to touch the ground; they must sit on a hide, a chair, or the back of a slave, who crouched on hands and feet; their feet rested on the feet of others. When they travelled they were carried on the backs of men; but the king journeyed in a litter supported on shafts.10 Among the Ibo people about Awka, in Southern Nigeria, the priest of the Earth has to observe many taboos; for example, he may not see a corpse, and if he meets one on the road he must hide his eyes with his wristlet. He must abstain from many foods, such as eggs, birds of all sorts, mutton, dog, bush-buck, and so forth. He may neither wear nor touch a mask, and no masked man may enter his house. If a dog enters his house, it is killed and thrown out. As priest of the Earth he may not sit on the bare ground, nor eat things that have fallen on the ground, nor may earth be thrown at him.11 According to ancient Brahmanic ritual a king at his inauguration trod on a tiger's skin and a golden plate; he was shod with shoes of boar's skin, and so long as he lived thereafter he might not stand on the earth with his bare feet.12

It’s important to start by noticing two of the rules or taboos that govern the lives of divine kings or priests. The first rule I want to highlight is that the divine figure cannot touch the ground with their foot. This rule was followed by the supreme pontiff of the Zapotecs in Mexico; if he touched the ground with his foot, it would defile his holiness. Montezuma, the emperor of Mexico, never walked on the ground; he was always carried by nobles, and when he stopped, they laid down rich tapestries for him to walk on. For the Mikado of Japan, touching the ground with his foot was a disgrace; indeed, in the sixteenth century, it could lead to him losing his position. Outside his palace, he was carried on men's shoulders, and inside, he walked on beautifully crafted mats. The king and queen of Tahiti could only touch the ground within their own lands; the soil they walked on became sacred. When traveling, they were carried on the shoulders of chosen men. They always had several of these sacred attendants, and when it was time to change bearers, the king and queen would jump onto their new bearers' shoulders without letting their feet touch the ground. It was considered a bad omen if the king of Dosuma touched the ground, and he had to perform a purification ceremony. Inside his palace, the king of Persia walked on carpets that were off-limits to anyone else; outside, he was only seen in a chariot or on horseback. In ancient times, the king of Siam never set foot on the ground but was carried on a golden throne. Previously, neither the kings of Uganda, nor their mothers, nor their queens could walk outside the large enclosures where they lived. Whenever they went out, they were carried on the shoulders of men from the Buffalo clan, who accompanied these royals on journeys and took turns carrying them. The king would sit astride the bearer's neck with his legs on each shoulder and his feet tucked under the bearer's arms. When a royal carrier got tired, he would lift the king onto the shoulders of another person without letting the royal feet touch the ground. This way, they could move quickly and travel long distances in a day when the king was on the go. The bearers had a special hut in the king's enclosure to be ready whenever needed. Among the Bakuba, or Bushongo, a nation in southern Congo, until a few years ago, members of royal blood were not allowed to touch the ground; they had to sit on a hide, a chair, or on the back of a slave who crouched on hands and feet; their feet were supported by others. When traveling, they were carried on men's backs, but the king traveled in a litter on poles. Among the Ibo people near Awka in Southern Nigeria, the priest of the Earth must follow many taboos; for instance, he cannot see a corpse, and if he encounters one on the road, he must cover his eyes with his wristlet. He has to avoid many foods, like eggs, all kinds of birds, mutton, dogs, bush-bucks, and the like. He cannot wear or touch a mask, and no masked person can enter his home. If a dog enters his house, it is killed and removed. As the priest of the Earth, he cannot sit on the bare ground, eat food that has fallen on the ground, or have dirt thrown at him. According to ancient Brahmanic rituals, a king at his coronation would stand on a tiger's skin and a golden plate; he wore shoes made of boar's skin, and for the rest of his life, he could not stand on the earth with bare feet.

Some people are not allowed to touch the ground with their feet on certain occasions.

But besides persons who are permanently sacred or tabooed and are therefore permanently forbidden to touch the ground with their feet, there are others who enjoy the character of sanctity or taboo only on certain occasions, and to whom accordingly the prohibition in question only applies at the definite seasons during which they exhale the odour of sanctity. Thus among the Kayans or Bahaus of Central [pg 005] Borneo, while the priestesses are engaged in the performance of certain rites they may not step on the ground, and boards are laid for them to tread on.13 At a funeral ceremony observed by night among the Michemis, a Tibetan tribe near the northern frontier of Assam, a priest fantastically bedecked with tiger's teeth, many-coloured plumes, bells, and shells, executed a wild dance for the purpose of exorcising the evil spirits; then all fires were extinguished and a new light was struck by a man suspended by his feet from a beam in the ceiling; “he did not touch the ground,” we are told, “in order to indicate that the light came from heaven.”14 Again, newly born infants are strongly tabooed; accordingly in Loango they are not allowed to touch the earth.15 Among the Iluvans of Malabar the bridegroom on his wedding-day is bathed by seven young men and then carried or walks on planks from the bathing-place to the marriage booth; he may not touch the ground with his feet.16 With the Dyaks of Landak and Tajan, two districts of Dutch Borneo, it is a custom that for a certain time after marriage neither bride nor bridegroom may tread on the earth.17 Warriors, again, on the war-path are surrounded, so to say, by an atmosphere of taboo; hence some Indians of North America might not sit on the bare ground the whole time they were out on a warlike expedition.18 In Laos the hunting of elephants gives rise to many taboos; one of them is that the chief hunter may not touch the earth with his foot. Accordingly, when he alights from his elephant, the others spread a carpet of leaves for him to step upon.19 German wiseacres recommended that when witches were led to the block or the stake, they should not be allowed to touch the bare [pg 006] earth, and a reason suggested for the rule was that if they touched the earth they might make themselves invisible and so escape. The sagacious author of The Striped-petticoat Philosophy in the eighteenth century ridicules the idea as mere silly talk. He admits, indeed, that the women were conveyed to the place of execution in carts; but he denies that there is any deep significance in the cart, and he is prepared to maintain this view by a chemical analysis of the timber of which the cart was built. To clinch his argument he appeals to plain matter of fact and his own personal experience. Not a single instance, he assures us with apparent satisfaction, can be produced of a witch who escaped the axe or the fire in this fashion. “I have myself,” says he, “in my youth seen divers witches burned, some at Arnstadt, some at Ilmenau, some at Schwenda, a noble village between Arnstadt and Ilmenau, and some of them were pardoned and beheaded before being burned. They were laid on the earth in the place of execution and beheaded like any other poor sinner; whereas if they could have escaped by touching the earth, not one of them would have failed to do so.”20

But in addition to people who are always considered sacred or tabooed and are therefore never allowed to touch the ground with their feet, there are others who are seen as sacred or taboo only on certain occasions. For them, the prohibition only applies during specific times when they give off the scent of sanctity. For example, among the Kayans or Bahaus of Central [pg 005] Borneo, priestesses cannot step on the ground while performing certain rites, so boards are laid down for them to walk on.13 During a nighttime funeral ceremony among the Michemis, a Tibetan tribe near the northern border of Assam, a priest adorned with tiger's teeth, colorful feathers, bells, and shells performed a wild dance to exorcise evil spirits. Afterwards, all fires were put out, and a new light was created by a man hanging upside down from a beam in the ceiling; “he didn’t touch the ground,” we learn, "to demonstrate that the light originated from heaven."14 Additionally, newborn infants are considered strongly taboo; in Loango, they are not permitted to touch the earth.15 Among the Iluvans of Malabar, on his wedding day, the groom is bathed by seven young men and then either carried or walks on planks from the bathing area to the marriage booth; he must not touch the ground with his feet.16 With the Dyaks of Landak and Tajan, two areas of Dutch Borneo, there is a tradition that for a period after marriage, neither the bride nor the groom may set foot on the earth.17 Warriors on the warpath are surrounded by a kind of taboo atmosphere; thus some North American Indians were not allowed to sit on bare ground while on a military expedition.18 In Laos, hunting elephants involves many taboos, one of which is that the chief hunter cannot touch the ground with his foot. So, when he gets off his elephant, others spread a carpet of leaves for him to step on.19 German scholars suggested that when witches were taken to the execution block or stake, they should not be permitted to touch the ground. One reason given for this rule was that touching the earth could make them invisible and allow them to escape. The clever author of The Striped-Petticoat Philosophy in the eighteenth century mocks this notion as nonsensical. He acknowledges that women were transported to the execution site in carts; however, he denies any deeper meaning in the cart and claims to support this with a chemical analysis of the wood from which the cart was made. To strengthen his argument, he points to factual evidence and his own personal experiences. He confidently assures us that there is not a single case of a witch escaping the axe or the fire in this way. "I have myself." he claims, "In my youth, I saw several witches burned—some in Arnstadt, some in Ilmenau, and some in Schwenda, a nice village between Arnstadt and Ilmenau. Some of them were pardoned and beheaded before being burned. They were laid on the ground at the execution site and beheaded like any other poor sinner; if they could have escaped by touching the earth, none of them would have passed up that chance."20

Sacred or tabooed individuals are believed to possess a mysterious power, similar to a fluid, that would dissipate or erupt if it comes into contact with the ground.

Apparently holiness, magical virtue, taboo, or whatever we may call that mysterious quality which is supposed to pervade sacred or tabooed persons, is conceived by the primitive philosopher as a physical substance or fluid, with which the sacred man is charged just as a Leyden jar is charged with electricity; and exactly as the electricity in the jar can be discharged by contact with a good conductor, so the holiness or magical virtue in the man can be discharged and drained away by contact with the earth, which on this theory serves as an excellent conductor for the magical fluid. Hence in order to preserve the charge from running to waste, the sacred or tabooed personage must be carefully prevented from touching the ground; in electrical language he must be insulated, if he is not to be emptied of the precious substance or fluid with which he, as a vial, is filled to the brim. And in many cases apparently the insulation of the tabooed person is recommended as a precaution not merely for his own sake but for the sake of others; for [pg 007] since the virtue of holiness or taboo is, so to say, a powerful explosive which the smallest touch may detonate, it is necessary in the interest of the general safety to keep it within narrow bounds, lest breaking out it should blast, blight, and destroy whatever it comes into contact with.

Apparently, holiness, magical virtue, taboo, or whatever we call that mysterious quality thought to surround sacred or taboo individuals, is viewed by primitive thinkers as a physical substance or fluid. This sacred person is charged in the same way a Leyden jar is charged with electricity; just as the electricity in the jar can be released by contact with a good conductor, the holiness or magical virtue in the person can be drained away by touching the earth, which, according to this idea, acts as an excellent conductor for the magical fluid. To keep this charge from wasting away, the sacred or tabooed individual must be prevented from touching the ground; in electrical terms, they need to be insulated to avoid losing the valuable substance or fluid that fills them to the brim. In many cases, the insulation of the tabooed person is recommended not just for their own well-being but for the safety of others as well; since the power of holiness or taboo is, in a sense, a volatile explosive that can be triggered by the lightest touch, it’s essential to keep it contained to prevent it from blasting, blighting, and destroying everything it touches.

Both objects and people can be imbued with a mysterious quality of holiness or taboo; and when they have this quality, they must be kept off the ground.

But things as well as persons are often charged with the mysterious quality of holiness or taboo; hence it frequently becomes necessary for similar reasons to guard them also from coming into contact with the ground, lest they should in like manner be drained of their valuable properties and be reduced to mere commonplace material objects, empty husks from which the good grain has been eliminated. Thus, for example, the most sacred object of the Arunta tribe in Central Australia is, or rather used to be, a pole about twenty feet high, which is completely smeared with human blood, crowned with an imitation of a human head, and set up on the ground where the final initiatory ceremonies of young men are performed. A young gum-tree is chosen to form the pole, and it must be cut down and transported in such a way that it does not touch the earth till it is erected in its place on the holy ground. Apparently the pole represents some famous ancestor of the olden time.21

But both things and people often carry a mysterious quality of holiness or taboo; for this reason, it’s often necessary to protect them from touching the ground, so they don’t lose their valuable qualities and become just ordinary material objects, hollow shells from which the good stuff has been removed. For example, the most sacred object of the Arunta tribe in Central Australia is, or rather used to be, a pole about twenty feet high, completely smeared with human blood, topped with a replica of a human head, and placed on the ground where the final initiation ceremonies for young men take place. A young gum tree is selected to make the pole, and it must be cut down and moved in such a way that it doesn’t touch the earth until it is set up on the sacred ground. Apparently, the pole represents a famous ancestor from ancient times.21

Festival of the wild mango tree in British New Guinea.

Again, at a great dancing festival celebrated by the natives of Bartle Bay, in British New Guinea, a wild mango tree plays a prominent part. The tree must be self-sown, that is, really wild and so young that it has never flowered. It is chosen in the jungle some five or six weeks before the festival, and a circle is cleared round its trunk. From that time the master of the ceremonies and some eight to twenty other men, who have aided him in choosing the tree and in clearing the jungle, become strictly holy or tabooed. They sleep by themselves in a house into which no one else may intrude: they may not wash or drink water, nor even allow it accidentally to touch their bodies: they are forbidden to eat boiled food and the fruit of mango trees: they may drink only the milk of a young coco-nut which has been baked, and they may eat certain fruits and vegetables, such as paw-paws [pg 008] (Carica papaya) and sugar-cane, but only on condition that they have been baked. All refuse of their food is kept in baskets in their sleeping-house and may not be removed from it till the festival is over. At the time when the men begin to observe these rules of abstinence, some six to ten women, members of the same clan as the master of the ceremonies, enter on a like period of mortification, avoiding the company of the other sex, and refraining from water, all boiled food, and the fruit of the mango tree. These fasting men and women are the principal dancers at the festival. The dancing takes place on a special platform in a temporary village which has been erected for the purpose. When the platform is about to be set up, the fasting men rub the stepping posts and then suck their hands for the purpose of extracting the ghost of any dead man that might chance to be in the post and might be injured by the weight of the platform pressing down on him. Having carefully extracted these poor souls, the men carry them away tenderly and set them free in the forest or the long grass.

Again, at a big dancing festival celebrated by the locals of Bartle Bay in British New Guinea, a wild mango tree plays a key role. The tree must be self-sown, meaning it's truly wild and so young that it has never flowered. It's chosen in the jungle about five or six weeks before the festival, and a circle is cleared around its trunk. From that point on, the master of ceremonies and about eight to twenty other men, who helped him select the tree and clear the area, become strictly holy or forbidden to others. They sleep separately in a house that no one else can enter: they can't wash or drink water, nor can they let it touch their bodies by accident. They are not allowed to eat boiled food or the fruit of mango trees; they can only drink the milk of a young coconut that has been baked, and they can eat certain fruits and vegetables, like paw-paws (Papaya) and sugar cane, but only if they are baked. All leftover food is kept in baskets in their sleeping house and can't be removed until the festival is over. When the men start following these abstinence rules, six to ten women from the same clan as the master of ceremonies also begin a similar period of self-denial, avoiding the company of men and refraining from water, boiled food, and mango tree fruit. These fasting men and women are the main dancers at the festival. The dancing occurs on a special platform in a temporary village built for the occasion. When the platform is about to be set up, the fasting men rub the stepping posts and then suck their hands to draw out the spirit of any deceased person that might be in the post, so they aren't harmed by the weight of the platform. After carefully releasing these unfortunate souls, the men gently carry them away and set them free in the forest or tall grass.

The wild mango tree should not touch the ground.

On the day before the festival one of the fasting men cuts down the chosen mango tree in the jungle with a stone adze, which is never afterwards put to any other use; an iron tool may not be used for the purpose, though iron tools are now common enough in the district. In cutting down the mango they place nets on the ground to catch any leaves or twigs that might fall from the tree as it is being felled, and they surround the trunk with new mats to receive the chips which fly out under the adze of the woodman; for the chips may not drop on the earth. Once the tree is down, it is carried to the centre of the temporary village, the greatest care being taken to prevent it from coming into contact with the ground. But when it is brought into the village, the houses are connected with the top of the mango by means of long vines decorated with streamers. In the afternoon the fasting men and women begin to dance, the men bedizened with gay feathers, armlets, streamers, and anklets, the women flaunting in parti-coloured petticoats and sprigs of croton leaves, which wave from their waistbands as they dance. The dancing stops at sundown, and when the full moon rises over the shoulder of the [pg 009] eastern hill (for the date of the festival seems to be determined with reference to the time of the moon), two chiefs mount the gables of two houses on the eastern side of the square, and, their dusky figures standing sharply out against the moonlight, pray to the evil spirits to go away and not to hurt the people. Next morning pigs are killed by being speared as slowly as possible in order that they may squeal loud and long; for the people believe that the mango trees hear the squealing, and are pleased at the sound, and bear plenty of fruit, whereas if they heard no squeals they would bear no fruit. However, the trees have to content themselves with the squeals; the flesh of the pigs is eaten by the people. This ends the festival.

On the day before the festival, one of the fasting men cuts down the selected mango tree in the jungle with a stone adze, which is never used for anything else afterward; iron tools aren’t allowed for this task, even though they’re pretty common in the area now. While cutting down the mango tree, they spread nets on the ground to catch any leaves or twigs that might fall as the tree is being cut down, and they wrap the trunk with new mats to catch the chips that fly off from the woodcutter's tool since the chips can't touch the ground. Once the tree is down, it's carefully brought to the center of the temporary village, making sure it doesn’t touch the ground at all. When it reaches the village, they connect the houses to the top of the mango tree with long vines decorated with streamers. In the afternoon, the fasting men and women start to dance, with the men adorned in colorful feathers, armlets, streamers, and anklets, while the women show off in brightly colored petticoats and sprigs of croton leaves that sway from their waistbands as they move. The dancing stops at sunset, and when the full moon rises over the shoulder of the eastern hill (it seems the date of the festival is linked to the lunar cycle), two chiefs climb onto the roofs of two houses on the eastern side of the square. Their dark silhouettes stand out against the moonlight as they pray for the evil spirits to leave and not harm the people. The next morning, pigs are slowly speared to ensure they squeal loudly; the community believes the mango trees can hear the squealing and enjoy the sound, which makes them bear plenty of fruit, while if there are no squeals, they won't produce any fruit at all. However, the trees only get to hear the squeals; the people feast on the pigs. This concludes the festival.

Final disposition of the wild mango tree.

Next day the mango is taken down from the platform, wrapt in new mats, and carried by the fasting men to their sleeping house, where it is hung from the roof. But after an interval, it may be of many months, the tree is brought forth again. As to the reason for its reappearance in public opinions are divided; but some say that the tree itself orders the master of the ceremonies to bring it forth, appearing to him in his dreams and saying, “Let me smell the smoking fat of pigs. So will your pigs be healthy and your crops will grow.” Be that as it may, out it comes, conducted by the fasting men in their dancing costume; and with it come in the solemn procession all the pots, spoons, cups and so forth used by the fasting men during their period of holiness or taboo, also all the refuse of their food which has been collected for months, and all the fallen leaves and chips of the mango in their bundles of mats. These holy relics are carried in front and the mango tree itself brings up the rear of the procession. While these sacred objects are being handed out of the house, the men who are present rush up, wipe off the hallowed dust which has accumulated on them, and smear it over their own bodies, no doubt in order to steep themselves in their blessed influence. Thus the tree is carried as before to the centre of the temporary village, care being again taken not to let it touch the ground. Then one of the fasting men takes from a basket a number of young green mangoes, cuts them in pieces, and places them with his own hands in the mouths of his fellows, the other [pg 010] fasting men, who chew the pieces small and turning round spit the morsels in the direction of the setting sun, in order that “the sun should carry the mango bits over the whole country and everyone should know.” A portion of the mango tree is then broken off and in the evening it is burnt along with the bundles of leaves, chips, and refuse of food, which have been stored up. What remains of the tree is taken to the house of the master of the ceremonies and hung over the fire-place; it will be brought out again at intervals and burned bit by bit, till all is consumed, whereupon a new mango will be cut down and treated in like manner. The ashes of the holy fire on each occasion are gathered by the people and preserved in the house of the master of the ceremonies.22

The next day, the mango is taken down from the platform, wrapped in fresh mats, and carried by the fasting men to their sleeping house, where it’s hung from the roof. After some time, which could be many months, the tree is brought out again. People have different opinions on why it reappears; some say the tree itself instructs the master of ceremonies to bring it out, appearing to him in dreams and saying, "Let me breathe in the scent of sizzling pig fat. Then your pigs will be healthy and your crops will thrive." Regardless, out it comes, led by the fasting men in their dancing costumes; along with it comes a solemn procession that includes all the pots, spoons, cups, and so on used by the fasting men during their period of holiness or taboos, as well as all the scraps of food collected for months, and all the fallen leaves and bits of the mango in their bundles of mats. These holy items are carried in front, and the mango tree itself brings up the rear of the procession. As these sacred objects are being handed out of the house, the men present rush up, wipe off the sacred dust that’s accumulated on them, and smear it on their own bodies, likely to soak in their blessed influence. Thus, the tree is carried again to the center of the temporary village, making sure not to let it touch the ground. Then one of the fasting men takes a number of young green mangoes from a basket, cuts them into pieces, and hands them directly to his fellow fasting men, who chew the pieces small and then spit the morsels in the direction of the setting sun, so that "The sun should spread the mango pieces all over the country so everyone knows." A portion of the mango tree is then broken off, and in the evening, it is burned along with the bundles of leaves, chips, and food scraps that have been stored up. What’s left of the tree is taken to the house of the master of ceremonies and hung over the fireplace; it will be brought out again at intervals and burned bit by bit until it’s all consumed, after which a new mango will be cut down and treated in the same way. The ashes from the holy fire each time are collected by the people and kept in the house of the master of ceremonies.22

The ceremony seemed to be meant to fertilize the mango trees.

The meaning of these ceremonies is not explained by the authorities who describe them; but we may conjecture that they are intended to fertilize the mango trees and cause them to bear a good crop of fruit. The central feature of the whole ritual is a wild mango tree, so young that it has never flowered: the men who cut it down, carry it into the village, and dance at the festival, are forbidden to eat mangoes: pigs are killed in order that their dying squeals may move the mango trees to bear fruit: at the end of the ceremonies pieces of young green mangoes are solemnly placed in the mouths of the fasting men and are by them spurted out towards the setting sun in order that the luminary may carry the fragments to every part of the country; and finally when after a longer or shorter interval the tree is wholly consumed, its place is supplied by another. All these circumstances are explained simply and naturally by the supposition that the young mango tree is taken as a representative of mangoes generally, that the dances are intended to quicken it, and that it is preserved, like a May-pole of old in England, as a sort of general fund of vegetable life, till the fund being exhausted by the destruction of the tree it is renewed by the importation of a fresh young tree from the forest. We can therefore understand why, as a storehouse of vital energy, the tree should be carefully kept from [pg 011] contact with the ground, lest the pent-up and concentrated energy should escape and dribbling away into the earth be dissipated to no purpose.

The meaning of these ceremonies isn't explained by the authorities who describe them; however, we can guess that they're meant to help fertilize the mango trees and ensure a good fruit harvest. The main part of the ritual centers around a wild mango tree, so young that it has never bloomed: the men who chop it down, bring it to the village, and dance at the festival are not allowed to eat mangoes. Pigs are slaughtered so their dying cries might encourage the mango trees to produce fruit. At the end of the ceremonies, pieces of young green mangoes are seriously placed in the mouths of the fasting men, who then spit them out towards the setting sun, hoping that the sun will carry the pieces to every corner of the land. Finally, after some time, when the tree is completely consumed, it's replaced by another. All these events can be simply and logically explained by the idea that the young mango tree represents all mangoes, that the dances are meant to energize it, and that it is kept, like an old May-pole in England, as a sort of general source of plant life. Once that source is diminished by the tree's destruction, it is refreshed by bringing in a new young tree from the forest. This explains why, as a reservoir of vital energy, the tree is carefully kept from [pg 011] contact with the ground, to prevent the stored energy from leaking out and being wasted.

Sacred objects of different kinds are not allowed to touch the ground.

To take other instances of what we may call the conservation of energy in magic or religion by insulating sacred bodies from the ground, the natives of New Britain have a secret society called the Duk-duk, the members of which masquerade in petticoats of leaves and tall headdresses of wickerwork shaped like candle extinguishers, which descend to the shoulders of the wearers, completely concealing their faces. Thus disguised they dance about to the awe and terror, real or assumed, of the women and uninitiated, who take, or pretend to take, them for spirits. When lads are being initiated into the secrets of this august society, the adepts cut down some very large and heavy bamboos, one for each lad, and the novices carry them, carefully wrapt up in leaves, to the sacred ground, where they arrive very tired and weary, for they may not let the bamboos touch the ground nor the sun shine on them. Outside the fence of the enclosure every lad deposits his bamboo on a couple of forked sticks and covers it up with nut leaves.23 Among the Carrier Indians of North-Western America, who burned their dead, the ashes of a chief used to be placed in a box and set on the top of a pole beside his hut: the box was never allowed to touch the ground.24 In the Omaha tribe of North American Indians the sacred clam shell of the Elk clan was wrapt up from sight in a mat, placed on a stand, and never suffered to come in contact with the earth.25 The Cherokees and kindred Indian tribes of the United States used to have certain sacred boxes or arks, which they regularly took with them to war. Such a holy ark consisted of a square wooden box, which contained “certain consecrated vessels made by beloved superannuated women, and of such various antiquated forms, as would have puzzled Adam to have given significant names to each.” The [pg 012] leader of a war party and his attendant bore the ark by turns, but they never set it on the ground nor would they themselves sit on the bare earth while they were carrying it against the enemy. Where stones were plentiful they rested the ark on them; but where no stones were to be found, they deposited it on short logs. “The Indian ark is deemed so sacred and dangerous to be touched, either by their own sanctified warriors, or the spoiling enemy, that they durst not touch it upon any account. It is not to be meddled with by any, except the war chieftain and his waiter, under the penalty of incurring great evil. Nor would the most inveterate enemy touch it in the woods, for the very same reason.” After their return home they used to hang the ark on the leader's red-painted war pole.26 At Sipi, near Simla, in Northern India, an annual fair is held, at which men purchase wives. A square box with a domed top figures prominently at the fair. It is fixed on two poles to be carried on men's shoulders, and long heavily-plaited petticoats hang from it nearly to the ground. Three sides of the box are adorned with the head and shoulders of a female figure and the fourth side with a black yak's tail. Four men bear the poles, each carrying an axe in his right hand. They dance round, with a swinging rhythmical step, to the music of drums and a pipe. The dance goes on for hours and is thought to avert ill-luck from the fair. It is said that the box is brought to Simla from a place sixty miles off by relays of men, who may not stop nor set the box on the ground the whole way.27 In Scotland, when water was carried from sacred wells to sick people, the water-vessel might not touch the earth.28 In some parts of Aberdeenshire the last bunch of standing corn, which is commonly viewed as very sacred, being the last refuge of the corn-spirit retreating before the reapers, is not suffered to touch the ground; the master or “gueedman” sits down and receives each handful of corn as it is cut on his lap.29

To give other examples of what we can call the conservation of energy in magic or religion by keeping sacred bodies off the ground, the people of New Britain have a secret society called the Duk-duk. The members wear skirts made of leaves and tall wicker headdresses shaped like candle extinguishers that hang down to their shoulders, completely hiding their faces. Disguised this way, they dance to awe and terrify the women and uninitiated, who either genuinely believe or pretend to believe they are spirits. When boys are being initiated into the secrets of this esteemed society, the members cut down large, heavy bamboos—one for each boy—and the novices carry them, carefully covered in leaves, to the sacred ground, arriving very tired and worn out, as they can’t let the bamboos touch the ground or let the sun shine on them. Outside the enclosure's fence, each boy places his bamboo on two forked sticks and covers it with nut leaves.23 Among the Carrier Indians of North-Western America, who cremated their dead, the ashes of a chief were placed in a box and set on top of a pole beside his hut: the box was never allowed to touch the ground.24 In the Omaha tribe of North American Indians, the sacred clam shell of the Elk clan was wrapped from view in a mat, placed on a stand, and never allowed to come into contact with the earth.25 The Cherokees and related Indian tribes in the United States used to have certain sacred boxes or arks that they took with them to war. Such a holy ark was a square wooden box that contained “certain sacred vessels crafted by cherished elderly women, with such a variety of old-fashioned shapes that it would have puzzled Adam to assign meaningful names to each one.” The [pg 012] leader of a war party and his attendant took turns carrying the ark, but they never set it on the ground, nor would they sit on the bare earth while carrying it against the enemy. When stones were available, they rested the ark on them; but where no stones could be found, they placed it on short logs. The Indian ark is seen as incredibly sacred and too risky to touch, whether by their own holy warriors or the invading enemies, so they avoid touching it at all costs. Only the war chieftain and his assistant are allowed to handle it, as touching it otherwise could bring serious misfortune. Even their fiercest enemies wouldn't dare touch it in the woods for the same reason. After returning home, they used to hang the ark on the leader's red-painted war pole.26 In Sipi, near Simla in Northern India, an annual fair is held where men buy wives. A square box with a domed top is prominently featured at the fair. It is carried on men's shoulders using two poles, with long, heavily-plaited skirts hanging from it nearly to the ground. Three sides of the box are decorated with the head and shoulders of a female figure, and the fourth side has a black yak's tail. Four men carry the poles, each holding an axe in his right hand. They dance around in a rhythmic swinging motion to the music of drums and a pipe. The dance continues for hours and is believed to prevent bad luck at the fair. It is said that the box is carried to Simla from a place sixty miles away without stopping or letting the box touch the ground the entire way.27 In Scotland, when water was taken from sacred wells to sick people, the water container was not allowed to touch the earth.28 In some areas of Aberdeenshire, the last bunch of standing corn, which is usually seen as very sacred since it is the final refuge of the corn spirit retreating from the reapers, is not allowed to touch the ground; the master or “good man” sits down and receives each handful of corn as it is cut on his lap.29

[pg 013]

Sacred food cannot touch the ground.

Again, sacred food may not under certain circumstances be brought into contact with the earth. Some of the aborigines of Victoria used to regard the fat of the emu as sacred, believing that it had once been the fat of the black man. In taking it from the bird or giving it to another they handled it reverently. Any one who threw away the fat or flesh of the emu was held accursed. “The late Mr. Thomas observed on one occasion, at Nerrenerre-Warreen, a remarkable exhibition of the effects of this superstition. An aboriginal child—one attending the school—having eaten some part of the flesh of an emu, threw away the skin. The skin fell to the ground, and this being observed by his parents, they showed by their gestures every token of horror. They looked upon their child as one utterly lost. His desecration of the bird was regarded as a sin for which there was no atonement.”30 The Roumanians of Transylvania believe that “every fresh-baked loaf of wheaten bread is sacred, and should a piece inadvertently fall to the ground, it is hastily picked up, carefully wiped and kissed, and if soiled, thrown into the fire—partly as an offering to the dead, and partly because it were a heavy sin to throw away or tread upon any particle of it.”31 At certain festivals in south-eastern Borneo the food which is consumed in the common house may not touch the ground; hence, a little before the festivals take place, foot-bridges made of thin poles are constructed from the private dwellings to the common house.32 When Hall was living with the Esquimaux and grew tired of eating walrus, one of the women brought the head and neck of a reindeer for him to eat. This venison had to be completely wrapt up before it was brought into the house, and once in the house it could only be placed on the platform which served as a bed. “To have placed it on the floor or on the platform behind the fire-lamp, among the walrus, musk-ox, and polar-bear meat which occupy a goodly portion of both of these places, would have horrified the whole town, as, according to the actual [pg 014] belief of the Innuits, not another walrus could be secured this year, and there would ever be trouble in catching any more.”33 But in this case the real scruple appears to have been felt not so much at placing the venison on the ground as at bringing it into contact with walrus meat.34

Again, sacred food may not, under certain circumstances, touch the ground. Some Aboriginal people in Victoria believed the fat of the emu was sacred, thinking it used to belong to a black man. When they took it from the bird or passed it to someone else, they handled it with great reverence. Anyone who discarded the fat or meat of the emu was considered cursed. “The late Mr. Thomas once noted a clear example of this superstition at Nerrenerre-Warreen. An Aboriginal child in school ate some emu meat and discarded the skin. When his parents saw the skin hit the ground, they were horrified and regarded their child as completely lost. His disrespect towards the bird was seen as an unforgivable sin.”30 The Roumanians of Transylvania believe that “Every fresh-baked loaf of wheat bread is sacred, and if a piece accidentally falls to the ground, it is quickly picked up, carefully cleaned, and kissed. If it's dirty, it's thrown into the fire—partly as an offering to the dead and partly because discarding or stepping on any piece of it would be a serious sin.”31 During certain festivals in south-eastern Borneo, food eaten in the communal house cannot touch the ground; therefore, just before the festivals, footbridges made of thin poles are built from the private homes to the communal house.32 When Hall lived with the Inuit and grew tired of walrus meat, one of the women brought him the head and neck of a reindeer to eat. This venison had to be completely wrapped before it was brought inside, and once inside, it could only be placed on the platform that served as a bed. Putting it on the floor or on the platform behind the fire-lamp, among the walrus, musk-ox, and polar bear meat taking up most of the space, would have shocked the whole town. According to Inuit beliefs, if that happened, no more walrus could be caught that year, and there would always be difficulties in catching more.33 In this case, the main concern seems to have been not so much placing the venison on the ground as bringing it into contact with walrus meat.34

Magical tools and remedies are believed to lose their power when they come into contact with the ground.

Sometimes magical implements and remedies are supposed to lose their virtue by contact with the ground, the volatile essence with which they are impregnated being no doubt drained off into the earth. Thus in the Boulia district of Queensland the magical bone, which the native sorcerer points at his victim as a means of killing him, is never by any chance allowed to touch the earth.35 The wives of rajahs in Macassar, a district of southern Celebes, pride themselves on their luxuriant tresses and are at great pains to oil and preserve them. Should the hair begin to grow thin, the lady resorts to many devices to stay the ravages of time; among other things she applies to her locks a fat extracted from crocodiles and venomous snakes. The unguent is believed to be very efficacious, but during its application the woman's feet may not come into contact with the ground, or all the benefit of the nostrum would be lost.36 Some people in antiquity believed that a woman in hard labour would be delivered if a spear, which had been wrenched from a man's body without touching the ground, were thrown over the house where the sufferer lay. Again, according to certain ancient writers, arrows which had been extracted from a body without coming into contact with the earth and laid under sleepers, acted as a love-charm.37 Among the peasantry of the north-east of Scotland the prehistoric [pg 015] weapons called celts went by the name of “thunderbolts” and were coveted as the sure bringers of success, always provided that they were not allowed to fall to the ground.38

Sometimes magical tools and remedies are thought to lose their power if they touch the ground, as the special essence they carry gets drained into the earth. For example, in the Boulia district of Queensland, the magical bone that a native sorcerer uses to curse a victim can never touch the ground. The wives of rajahs in Macassar, in southern Celebes, take great pride in their beautiful hair and go to great lengths to maintain it. If their hair starts to thin, they try various methods to prevent it, including using fat from crocodiles and venomous snakes. This ointment is believed to be very effective, but during its application, the woman's feet cannot touch the ground, or she would lose all the benefits of the treatment. Some people in ancient times believed that a woman in labor would give birth if a spear, pulled from a man's body without touching the ground, were thrown over the house where she lay. Additionally, according to some ancient authors, arrows that had been taken from a body without ever hitting the ground and placed under someone's pillow would act as a love charm. Among the peasantry in the northeast of Scotland, prehistoric weapons known as celts were called "thunderbolts" and were highly sought after as guaranteed bringers of success, as long as they weren’t allowed to fall to the ground.

Serpent eggs or Snake Stones.

In ancient Gaul certain glass or paste beads attained great celebrity as amulets under the name of serpents' eggs; it was believed that serpents, coiling together in a wriggling, writhing mass, generated them from their slaver and shot them into the air from their hissing jaws. If a man was bold and dexterous enough to catch one of these eggs in his cloak before it touched the ground, he rode off on horseback with it at full speed, pursued by the whole pack of serpents, till he was saved by the interposition of a river, which the snakes could not pass. The proof of the egg being genuine was that if it were thrown into a stream it would float up against the current, even though it were hooped in gold. The Druids held these beads in high esteem; according to them, the precious objects could only be obtained on a certain day of the moon, and the peculiar virtue that resided in them was to secure success in law suits and free access to kings. Pliny knew of a Gaulish knight who was executed by the emperor Claudius for wearing one of these amulets.39 Under the name of Snake Stones (glain neidr) or Adder Stones the beads are still known in those parts of our own country where the Celtic population has lingered, with its immemorial superstitions, down to the present or recent times; and the old story of the origin of the beads from the slaver of serpents was believed by the modern peasantry of Cornwall, Wales, and Scotland as by the Druids of ancient Gaul. In Cornwall the time when the serpents united to fashion the beads was commonly said to be at or about Midsummer Eve; in Wales it was usually thought to be spring, especially the Eve of May Day, and even within recent years persons in the Principality have affirmed that they witnessed the great [pg 016] vernal congress of the snakes and saw the magic stone in the midst of the froth. The Welsh peasants believe the beads to possess medicinal virtues of many sorts and to be particularly efficacious for all maladies of the eyes. In Wales and Ireland the beads sometimes went by the name of the Magician's or Druid's Glass (Gleini na Droedh and Glaine nan Druidhe). Specimens of them may be seen in museums; some have been found in British barrows. They are of glass of various colours, green, blue, pink, red, brown, and so forth, some plain and some ribbed. Some are streaked with brilliant hues. The beads are perforated, and in the Highlands of Scotland the hole is explained by saying that when the bead has just been conflated by the serpents jointly, one of the reptiles sticks his tail through the still viscous glass. An Englishman who visited Scotland in 1699 found many of these beads in use throughout the country. They were hung from children's necks to protect them from whooping cough and other ailments. Snake Stones were, moreover, a charm to ensure prosperity in general and to repel evil spirits. When one of these priceless treasures was not on active service, the owner kept it in an iron box to guard it against fairies, who, as is well known, cannot abide iron.40

In ancient Gaul, certain glass or paste beads became well-known as amulets called serpents' eggs. People believed that serpents, entwining in a writhing mass, produced these eggs from their saliva and shot them into the air from their hissing mouths. If someone was brave and quick enough to catch one of these eggs in their cloak before it touched the ground, they would ride off on horseback at full speed, chased by a swarm of serpents, until they reached a river that the snakes couldn't cross. The proof of the egg's authenticity was that if it were thrown into a stream, it would float upstream, even if it were encased in gold. The Druids valued these beads highly; they claimed that the precious objects could only be collected on a specific moon day, and that their unique power could secure success in lawsuits and guaranteed access to kings. Pliny noted a Gaulish knight who was executed by Emperor Claudius for wearing one of these amulets. Under the name of Snake Stones (snake shine) or Adder Stones, these beads are still recognized in regions of our country where the Celtic population has held onto its ancient superstitions, even to modern times; the old tale of the beads originating from the saliva of serpents is still believed by present-day peasants in Cornwall, Wales, and Scotland, just like it was by the Druids of ancient Gaul. In Cornwall, it was commonly said that the serpents came together to create the beads around Midsummer Eve; in Wales, it was thought to happen in spring, particularly on the Eve of May Day. Even in recent years, people in the Principality have claimed to witness the grand spring gathering of the snakes and saw the magic stone in the midst of the froth. Welsh peasants believe the beads have various medicinal properties and are particularly effective for eye ailments. In both Wales and Ireland, these beads were sometimes referred to as the Magician's or Druid's Glass (Gleini na Droedh and The Glade of the Druids). Examples of them can be seen in museums; some have been discovered in British barrows. They come in different colors: green, blue, pink, red, brown, and others, with some being plain and others ribbed. Some beads display vibrant streaks of color. The beads are perforated, and in the Highlands of Scotland, it's said that when the bead has just been formed by the serpents together, one of the creatures sticks its tail through the still-molten glass. An Englishman who visited Scotland in 1699 found many of these beads in use throughout the country. They were hung around children's necks to protect them from whooping cough and other illnesses. Snake Stones also served as a charm for general prosperity and to ward off evil spirits. When not in use, the owner kept one of these valuable treasures in an iron box to protect it from fairies, who, as is well-known, cannot tolerate iron.

[pg 017]

Medicinal plants, water, etc., are not allowed to touch the ground.

Pliny mentions several medicinal plants, which, if they were to retain their healing virtue, ought not to be allowed to touch the earth.41 The curious medical treatise of Marcellus, a native of Bordeaux in the fourth century of our era, abounds with prescriptions of this sort; and we can well believe the writer when he assures us that he borrowed many of his quaint remedies from the lips of common folk and peasants rather than from the books of the learned.42 Thus he tells us that certain white stones found in the stomachs of young swallows assuage the most persistent headache, always provided that their virtue be not impaired by contact with the ground.43 Another of his cures for the same malady is a wreath of fleabane placed on the head, but it must not touch the earth.44 On the same condition a decoction of the root of elecampane in wine kills worms; a fern, found growing on a tree, relieves the stomach-ache; and the pastern-bone of a hare is an infallible remedy for colic, provided, first, it be found in the dung of a wolf, second, that it does not touch the ground, and, third, that it is not touched by a woman.45 Another cure for colic is effected by certain hocus-pocus with a scrap of wool from the forehead of a first-born lamb, if only the lamb, instead of being allowed to fall to the ground, has been caught by hand as it dropped from its dam.46 In Andjra, a district of Morocco, the people attribute many magical virtues to rain-water which has fallen on the twenty-seventh day of April, Old Style; accordingly they collect it and use it for a variety of purposes. Mixed with tar and sprinkled on the door-posts it prevents snakes and scorpions from entering the house: sprinkled on heaps of threshed corn it protects them from the evil eye: mixed with an egg, henna, and seeds of cress it is an invaluable medicine for sick cows: poured over a [pg 018] plate, on which a passage of the Koran has been written, it strengthens the memory of schoolboys who drink it; and if you mix it with cowdung and red earth and paint rings with the mixture round the trunks of your fig-trees at sunset on Midsummer Day, you may depend on it that the trees will bear an excellent crop and will not shed their fruit untimely on the ground. But in order to preserve these remarkable properties it is absolutely essential that the water should on no account be allowed to touch the ground; some say too that it should not be exposed to the sun nor breathed upon by anybody.47 Again, the Moors ascribe great magical efficacy to what they call “the sultan of the oleander,” which is a stalk of oleander with a cluster of four pairs of leaves springing from it. They think that the magical virtue is greatest if the stalk has been cut immediately before midsummer. But when the plant is brought into the house, the branches may not touch the ground, lest they should lose their marvellous qualities.48 In the olden days, before a Lithuanian or Prussian farmer went forth to plough for the first time in spring, he called in a wizard to perform a certain ceremony for the good of the crops. The sage seized a mug of beer with his teeth, quaffed the liquor, and then tossed the mug over his head. This signified that the corn in that year should grow taller than a man. But the mug might not fall to the ground; it had to be caught by somebody stationed at the wizard's back, for if it fell to the ground the consequence naturally would be that the corn also would be laid low on the earth.49

Pliny talks about several medicinal plants that, in order to keep their healing properties, should never touch the ground.41 Marcellus, a doctor from Bordeaux in the fourth century, wrote a fascinating medical treatise filled with such remedies. We believe him when he says he got many of his unusual cures from everyday people and farmers instead of scholarly texts.42 He mentions that certain white stones found in the stomachs of young swallows can relieve even the worst headache, as long as they don’t come into contact with the ground.43 Another remedy for the same headache is a garland made of fleabane worn on the head, but it must not touch the ground.44 Under the same condition, a decoction of elecampane root in wine kills worms; a fern growing on a tree relieves stomachaches; and the pastern-bone of a hare is a foolproof cure for colic, as long as it is first found in wolf dung, doesn’t touch the ground, and isn’t touched by a woman.45 Another cure for colic involves a bit of trickery with a piece of wool from the forehead of a first-born lamb, as long as the lamb is caught by hand and not allowed to fall to the ground.46 In Andjra, a region in Morocco, people believe rainwater collected on April 27th, Old Style, has many magical properties, so they collect it for various uses. When mixed with tar and sprinkled on doorposts, it keeps snakes and scorpions out of the house. Sprinkled on piles of threshed corn, it protects them from bad luck; mixed with an egg, henna, and cress seeds, it becomes a valuable medicine for sick cows; poured over a [pg 018] plate with a Koran passage written on it, it improves the memory of schoolboys who drink it; and if you combine it with cow dung and red earth and paint rings around the trunks of fig trees at sunset on Midsummer Day, you can be sure those trees will produce a good crop and won’t drop their fruit early. But to keep these amazing qualities, this water must never touch the ground, and some say it shouldn’t be exposed to the sun or breathed on by anyone.47 Additionally, the Moors believe strongly in the magical power of what they call “the sultan of oleander,” which is a oleander stem with four pairs of leaves growing from it. They think the magic is strongest if the stem is cut just before midsummer. However, when this plant is brought inside, the branches must not touch the ground to maintain their incredible properties.48 In the past, before a Lithuanian or Prussian farmer would plow for the first time in spring, he would call in a wizard to perform a specific ceremony to bless the crops. The wizard would grab a mug of beer with his teeth, drink it, and then throw the mug over his head. This act meant that the corn would grow taller than a man that year. But the mug had to be caught by someone behind the wizard; if it fell to the ground, it would mean that the corn would also lie low on the earth.49

§ 2. Not to see the Sun.

Holy individuals are not allowed to see the sun.

The second rule to be here noted is that the sun may not shine upon the divine person. This rule was observed [pg 019] both by the Mikado and by the pontiff of the Zapotecs. The latter “was looked upon as a god whom the earth was not worthy to hold, nor the sun to shine upon.”50 The Japanese would not allow that the Mikado should expose his sacred person to the open air, and the sun was not thought worthy to shine on his head.51 The Indians of Granada, in South America, “kept those who were to be rulers or commanders, whether men or women, locked up for several years when they were children, some of them seven years, and this so close that they were not to see the sun, for if they should happen to see it they forfeited their lordship, eating certain sorts of food appointed; and those who were their keepers at certain times went into their retreat or prison and scourged them severely.”52 Thus, for example, the heir to the throne of Bogota, who was not the son but the sister's son of the king, had to undergo a rigorous training from his infancy: he lived in complete retirement in a temple, where he might not see the sun nor eat salt nor converse with a woman: he was surrounded by guards who observed his conduct and noted all his actions: if he broke a single one of the rules laid down for him, he was deemed infamous and forfeited all his rights to the throne.53 So, too, the heir to the kingdom of Sogamoso, before succeeding to the crown, had to fast for seven years in the temple, being shut up in the dark and not allowed to see the sun or light.54 The prince who was to become Inca of Peru had to fast for a month without seeing light.55 On [pg 020] the day when a Brahman student of the Veda took a bath, to signify that the time of his studentship was at an end, he entered a cow-shed before sunrise, hung over the door a skin with the hair inside, and sat there; on that day the sun should not shine upon him.56

The second rule to note is that the sun should not shine on the divine person. This rule was followed [pg 019] by both the Mikado and the high priest of the Zapotecs. The latter “was seen as a god that the earth wasn't worthy to support, nor the sun to shine on.”50 The Japanese would not allow the Mikado to expose his sacred self to the open air, and they believed the sun was not worthy to shine on his head.51 The Indians of Granada, in South America, "Those who were meant to be rulers or commanders, whether male or female, were kept locked away for several years during their childhood, sometimes for as long as seven years, in a way that prevented them from seeing the sun. If they did see the sun, they would forfeit their right to rule. They were fed specific types of food chosen for them, and their keepers would come into their confinement at designated times to punish them harshly."52 Thus, for example, the heir to the throne of Bogota, who was the king's sister's son, had to undergo strict training from infancy: he lived in complete seclusion in a temple, where he could not see the sun, eat salt, or talk to a woman; he was surrounded by guards who watched his behavior and noted all his actions: if he broke even one of the rules set for him, he was considered infamous and lost all his rights to the throne.53 Similarly, the heir to the kingdom of Sogamoso had to fast for seven years in the temple, kept in the dark and not allowed to see the sun or light.54 The prince who was to become Inca of Peru had to fast for a month without seeing light.55 On [pg 020] the day when a Brahman student of the Veda took a bath to mark the end of his studies, he entered a cow-shed before sunrise, hung a skin with the hair inside over the door, and sat there; on that day the sun should not shine on him.56

Prohibited individuals are not allowed to see the sun. Certain individuals are forbidden from seeing fire.

Again, women after childbirth and their offspring are more or less tabooed all the world over; hence in Corea the rays of the sun are rigidly excluded from both mother and child for a period of twenty-one or a hundred days, according to their rank, after the birth has taken place.57 Among some of the tribes on the north-west coast of New Guinea a woman may not leave the house for months after childbirth. When she does go out, she must cover her head with a hood or mat; for if the sun were to shine upon her, it is thought that one of her male relations would die.58 Again, mourners are everywhere taboo; accordingly in mourning the Ainos of Japan wear peculiar caps in order that the sun may not shine upon their heads.59 During a solemn fast of three days the Indians of Costa Rica eat no salt, speak as little as possible, light no fires, and stay strictly indoors, or if they go out during the day they carefully cover themselves from the light of the sun, believing that exposure to the sun's rays would turn them black.60 On Yule Night it has been customary in parts of Sweden from time immemorial to go on pilgrimage, whereby people learn many secret things and know what is to happen in the coming year. As a preparation for this pilgrimage, “some secrete themselves for three days previously in a dark cellar, so as to be shut out altogether from the light of [pg 021] heaven. Others retire at an early hour of the preceding morning to some out-of-the-way place, such as a hay-loft, where they bury themselves in the hay, that they may neither see nor hear any living creature; and here they remain, in silence and fasting, until after sundown; whilst there are those who think it sufficient if they rigidly abstain from food on the day before commencing their wanderings. During this period of probation a man ought not to see fire, but should this have happened, he must strike a light with flint and steel, whereby the evil that would otherwise have ensued will be obviated.”61 During the sixteen days that a Pima Indian is undergoing purification for killing an Apache he may not see a blazing fire.62

Again, women after giving birth and their children are somewhat tabooed all over the world; therefore, in Korea, sunlight is strictly avoided for both mother and child for a period of twenty-one to a hundred days, depending on their social status, after the birth has taken place.57 Among some tribes on the north-west coast of New Guinea, a woman may not leave the house for months after childbirth. When she finally goes out, she must cover her head with a hood or mat; for if the sun were to shine on her, it is believed that a male relative would die.58 Similarly, mourners everywhere are taboo; hence in mourning, the Ainos of Japan wear special caps so that the sun does not shine on their heads.59 During a solemn fast of three days, the Indians of Costa Rica eat no salt, speak as little as possible, light no fires, and stay strictly indoors, or if they go out during the day, they carefully cover themselves from the sun, believing that exposure to the sun's rays would make them dark-skinned.60 On Yule Night, it has been a long-standing tradition in parts of Sweden to go on pilgrimage, where people learn many secrets and discover what will happen in the coming year. As preparation for this pilgrimage, "Some hide for three days in a dark cellar to be completely shut away from the light of [pg 021] heaven. Others go to a quiet spot, like a hayloft, where they bury themselves in hay so they don’t see or hear any living thing; they stay there in silence and fasting until after sunset. Then there are those who believe it's enough to just fast the day before starting their journey. During this testing period, a person should not see fire, but if that happens, they must start a fire with flint and steel to ward off any potential evil."61 During the sixteen days that a Pima Indian is undergoing purification for killing an Apache, he may not see a blazing fire.62

The story of Prince Sunless.

Acarnanian peasants tell of a handsome prince called Sunless, who would die if he saw the sun. So he lived in an underground palace on the site of the ancient Oeniadae, but at night he came forth and crossed the river to visit a famous enchantress who dwelt in a castle on the further bank. She was loth to part with him every night long before the sun was up, and as he turned a deaf ear to all her entreaties to linger, she hit upon the device of cutting the throats of all the cocks in the neighbourhood. So the prince, whose ear had learned to expect the shrill clarion of the birds as the signal of the growing light, tarried too long, and hardly had he reached the ford when the sun rose over the Aetolian mountains, and its fatal beams fell on him before he could regain his dark abode.63

Acarnanian peasants talk about a handsome prince named Sunless, who would die if he saw the sun. So he lived in an underground palace where the ancient Oeniadae once stood, but at night he would come out and cross the river to visit a famous enchantress who lived in a castle on the other side. She hated to say goodbye every night long before dawn, and when he ignored all her pleas to stay longer, she came up with the idea of killing all the roosters in the neighborhood. The prince, whose ears had grown accustomed to the loud calls of the birds as a signal for the coming light, stayed too late, and just as he reached the ford, the sun rose over the Aetolian mountains, and its deadly rays hit him before he could return to his dark home.63

[pg 022]

Chapter II. The Isolation of Girls During Puberty.

§ 1. Isolation of Girls During Puberty in Africa.

Girls going through puberty are forbidden to touch the ground and see the sun. This is the practice of secluding girls at puberty among the A-Kamba. The same seclusion occurs for girls at puberty among the Baganda.

Now it is remarkable that the foregoing two rules—not to touch the ground and not to see the sun—are observed either separately or conjointly by girls at puberty in many parts of the world. Thus amongst the negroes of Loango girls at puberty are confined in separate huts, and they may not touch the ground with any part of their bare body.64 Among the Zulus and kindred tribes of South Africa, when the first signs of puberty shew themselves “while a girl is walking, gathering wood, or working in the field, she runs to the river and hides herself among the reeds for the day, so as not to be seen by men. She covers her head carefully with her blanket that the sun may not shine on it and shrivel her up into a withered skeleton, as would result from exposure to the sun's beams. After dark she returns to her home and is secluded” in a hut for some time.65 During her seclusion, which lasts for about a fortnight, neither she nor the girls who wait upon her may drink any milk, lest the cattle should die. And should she be overtaken by the first flow while she is in the fields, she must, after hiding in the bush, scrupulously avoid all pathways in returning home.66 A [pg 023] reason for this avoidance is assigned by the A-Kamba of British East Africa, whose girls under similar circumstances observe the same rule. “A girl's first menstruation is a very critical period of her life according to A-Kamba beliefs. If this condition appears when she is away from the village, say at work in the fields, she returns at once to her village, but is careful to walk through the grass and not on a path, for if she followed a path and a stranger accidentally trod on a spot of blood and then cohabited with a member of the opposite sex before the girl was better again, it is believed that she would never bear a child.” She remains at home till the symptoms have ceased, and during this time she may be fed by none but her mother. When the flux is over, her father and mother are bound to cohabit with each other, else it is believed that the girl would be barren all her life.67 Similarly, among the Baganda, when a girl menstruated for the first time she was secluded and not allowed to handle food; and at the end of her seclusion the kinsman with whom she was staying (for among the Baganda young people did not reside with their parents) was obliged to jump over his wife, which with the Baganda is regarded as equivalent to having intercourse with her. Should the girl happen to be living near her parents at the moment when she attained to puberty, she was expected on her recovery to inform them of the fact, whereupon her father jumped over her mother. Were this custom omitted, the Baganda, like the A-Kamba, thought that the girl would never have children or that they would die in infancy.68 Thus the pretence of sexual intercourse between the parents or other relatives of [pg 024] the girl was a magical ceremony to ensure her fertility. It is significant that among the Baganda the first menstruation was often called a marriage, and the girl was spoken of as a bride.69 These terms so applied point to a belief like that of the Siamese, that a girl's first menstruation results from her defloration by one of a host of aerial spirits, and that the wound thus inflicted is repeated afterwards every month by the same ghostly agency.70 For a like reason, probably, the Baganda imagine that a woman who does not menstruate exerts a malign influence on gardens and makes them barren71 if she works in them. For not being herself fertilized by a spirit, how can she fertilize the garden?

Now it’s remarkable that the two rules mentioned earlier—not touching the ground and not seeing the sun—are followed either separately or together by girls at puberty in many parts of the world. For example, among the Loango people, girls going through puberty are kept in separate huts and are not allowed to touch the ground with any part of their bare body. Among the Zulus and similar tribes in South Africa, when the first signs of puberty appear, “if a girl is walking, gathering firewood, or working in the fields, she runs to the river and hides among the reeds for the day so that men don’t see her. She carefully covers her head with her blanket to protect it from the sun, which could shrivel her into a withered skeleton if exposed to its rays. After dark, she returns home and is kept in a hut for some time.” During her seclusion, which lasts about two weeks, neither she nor the girls who tend to her can drink milk, otherwise, it is believed the cattle will die. If she starts menstruating while in the fields, she must hide in the bush and avoid all pathways while returning home. The A-Kamba people in British East Africa explain the importance of this avoidance: “A girl’s first menstruation is a very crucial time in her life according to A-Kamba beliefs. If this happens when she is away from the village, say while working in the fields, she should return home immediately but must walk through the grass and not on a path. If she walks on a path and a stranger accidentally steps on a spot of blood and then has relations with someone before the girl is better, it is believed she will never be able to have children.” She stays at home until the symptoms subside, and during this time, only her mother can feed her. Once her menstruation ends, her father and mother are expected to have intercourse; otherwise, it is believed that the girl will be infertile for life. Similarly, among the Baganda, when a girl menstruates for the first time, she is secluded and not allowed to handle food; when her seclusion ends, the relative she is staying with (as young people among the Baganda do not live with their parents) must jump over his wife, which is seen as equivalent to having sex with her. If the girl is living near her parents when she reaches puberty, she is expected to inform them once she recovers, and her father would then jump over her mother. If this custom is not followed, the Baganda, like the A-Kamba, believe the girl will not be able to have children or that they will die young. Thus, the act of pretending to have sex between the girl’s parents or other relatives is a ritual to ensure her fertility. Notably, among the Baganda, the first menstruation is often referred to as a marriage, and the girl is viewed as a bride. These terms indicate a belief similar to that of the Siamese, where a girl’s first menstruation results from her being deflowered by one of a number of spirits, and this wound is believed to be repeated each month by the same supernatural force. For a similar reason, the Baganda think that a woman who does not menstruate has a negative impact on gardens, causing them to be barren if she works in them. Since she herself is not fertilized by a spirit, how can she fertilize the garden?

Seclusion of girls at puberty among the tribes of the Tanganyika plateau.

Among the Amambwe, Winamwanga, Alungu, and other tribes of the great plateau to the west of Lake Tanganyika, “when a young girl knows that she has attained puberty, she forthwith leaves her mother's hut, and hides herself in the long grass near the village, covering her face with a cloth and weeping bitterly. Towards sunset one of the older women—who, as directress of the ceremonies, is called nachimbusa—follows her, places a cooking-pot by the cross-roads, and boils therein a concoction of various herbs, with which she anoints the neophyte. At nightfall the girl is carried on the old woman's back to her mother's hut. When the customary period of a few days has elapsed, she is allowed to cook again, after first whitewashing the floor of the hut. But, by the following month, the preparations for her initiation are complete. The novice must remain in her hut throughout the whole period of initiation, and is carefully guarded by the old women, who accompany her whenever she leaves her quarters, veiling her head with a native cloth. The ceremonies last for at least one month.” During this period of seclusion, drumming and songs are kept up within the mother's hut by the village women, and no male, except, it is said, the father of twins, is allowed to enter. The directress of the rites and the older women instruct the [pg 025] young girl as to the elementary facts of life, the duties of marriage, and the rules of conduct, decorum, and hospitality to be observed by a married woman. Amongst other things the damsel must submit to a series of tests such as leaping over fences, thrusting her head into a collar made of thorns, and so on. The lessons which she receives are illustrated by mud figures of animals and of the common objects of domestic life. Moreover, the directress of studies embellishes the walls of the hut with rude pictures, each with its special significance and song, which must be understood and learned by the girl.72 In the foregoing account the rule that a damsel at puberty may neither see the sun nor touch the ground seems implied by the statement that on the first discovery of her condition she hides in long grass and is carried home after sunset on the back of an old woman.

Among the Amambwe, Winamwanga, Alungu, and other tribes on the great plateau west of Lake Tanganyika, When a young girl realizes she has hit puberty, she immediately leaves her mother’s hut and hides in the tall grass near the village, covering her face with a cloth and crying hard. As the sun starts to set, an older woman—who leads the ceremonies and is known as nachimbusa—finds her, sets a cooking pot at the crossroads, and boils a mix of various herbs to anoint the girl. At nightfall, the girl is carried on the old woman’s back to her mother’s hut. After a customary period of a few days, she is allowed to cook again, but only after first cleaning the hut’s floor. By the next month, preparations for her initiation are ready. The young girl must stay in her hut throughout the entire initiation period and is closely monitored by the older women, who accompany her whenever she leaves, covering her head with a traditional cloth. The ceremonies last for at least a month. During this time of seclusion, drumming and songs continue in the mother’s hut, and no man, except, it's said, the father of twins, is allowed to enter. The leader of the rituals and the older women teach the [pg 025] young girl about the basics of life, the responsibilities of marriage, and the rules of conduct, decorum, and hospitality expected from a married woman. Among other things, the girl must undergo a series of tests, such as jumping over fences and putting her head into a thorn collar, and so on. The lessons she receives are illustrated with mud figures of animals and common household items. Additionally, the leader of the studies decorates the hut's walls with simple drawings, each with a specific meaning and song that the girl must learn and understand.72 In this account, the rule that a girl at puberty cannot see the sun or touch the ground is implied by the fact that upon first realizing her condition, she hides in the tall grass and is carried home after sunset on the back of an older woman.

Separation of girls during puberty among the tribes of British Central Africa.

Among the Nyanja-speaking tribes of Central Angoniland, in British Central Africa, when a young girl finds that she has become a woman, she stands silent by the pathway leading to the village, her face wrapt in her calico. An old woman, finding her there, takes her off to a stream to bathe; after that the girl is secluded for six days in the old woman's hut. She eats her porridge out of an old basket and her relish, in which no salt is put, from a potsherd. The basket is afterwards thrown away. On the seventh day the aged matrons gather together, go with the girl to a stream, and throw her into the water. In returning they sing songs, and the old woman, who directs the proceedings, carries the maiden on her back. Then they spread a mat and fetch her husband and set the two down on the mat and shave his head. When it is dark, the old women escort the girl to her husband's hut. There the ndiwo relish is cooking on the fire. During the night the woman rises and puts some salt in the pot. Next morning, before dawn, while all is dark and the villagers have not yet opened their doors, the young married woman goes off and gives some of the relish to her mother and to the old woman who was mistress of the ceremony. This relish she sets down at the doors of their [pg 026] houses and goes away. And in the morning, when the sun has risen and all is light in the village, the two women open their doors, and there they find the relish with the salt in it; and they take of it and rub it on their feet and under their arm-pits; and if there are little children in the house, they eat of it. And if the young wife has a kinsman who is absent from the village, some of the relish is put on a splinter of bamboo and kept against his return, that when he comes he, too, may rub his feet with it. But if the woman finds that her husband is impotent, she does not rise betimes and go out in the dark to lay the relish at the doors of her mother and the old woman. And in the morning, when the sun is up and all the village is light, the old women open their doors, and see no relish there, and they know what has happened, and so they go wilily to work. For they persuade the husband to consult the diviner that he may discover how to cure his impotence; and while he is closeted with the wizard, they fetch another man, who finishes the ceremony with the young wife, in order that the relish may be given out and that people may rub their feet with it. But if it happens that when a girl comes to maturity she is not yet betrothed to any man, and therefore has no husband to go to, the matrons tell her that she must go to a lover instead. And this is the custom which they call chigango. So in the evening she takes her cooking pot and relish and hies away to the quarters of the young bachelors, and they very civilly sleep somewhere else that night. And in the morning the girl goes back to the kuka hut.73

Among the Nyanja-speaking tribes of Central Angoniland, in British Central Africa, when a young girl realizes she has become a woman, she stands quietly by the path leading to the village, her face covered with her calico. An older woman, finding her there, takes her to a stream to bathe; afterwards, the girl is secluded for six days in the older woman's hut. She eats her porridge from an old basket and her relish, which has no salt, from a piece of broken pot. The basket is thrown away afterwards. On the seventh day, the elderly women gather, take the girl to a stream, and throw her into the water. On their way back, they sing songs, and the older woman in charge of the ceremony carries the girl on her back. Then they spread a mat and bring her husband, sitting the two down on the mat and shaving his head. When it gets dark, the older women guide the girl to her husband's hut. There, the ndiwo relish is cooking over the fire. During the night, the woman gets up and adds some salt to the pot. The next morning, before dawn, while it’s still dark and the villagers haven’t opened their doors yet, the young married woman goes out and gives some of the relish to her mother and to the older woman who oversaw the ceremony. She places the relish at the doors of their [pg 026] houses and then leaves. In the morning, when the sun rises and it’s light in the village, the two women open their doors and find the relish with the salt in it; they take some and rub it on their feet and under their armpits; if there are little children in the house, they eat some too. If the young wife has a relative who is away from the village, some of the relish is placed on a splinter of bamboo and saved for his return, so he can rub his feet with it as well. However, if the woman discovers that her husband is impotent, she doesn’t get up early and leave in the dark to lay the relish at her mother’s and the older woman’s doors. In the morning, when the sun is up and the village is bright, the older women open their doors, see no relish, and know what has happened. They then cleverly figure out how to handle the situation. They persuade the husband to consult a diviner to find out how to cure his impotence; while he is with the wizard, they bring in another man to finish the ceremony with the young wife so that the relish can be distributed and people can rub their feet with it. But if it turns out that a girl reaches maturity and is not yet engaged to any man, and therefore has no husband to go to, the matrons tell her that she must go to a lover instead. This custom is known as chigango. So in the evening, she takes her cooking pot and relish and heads to the young bachelors' quarters, and they kindly sleep elsewhere that night. The next morning, the girl returns to the kuka hut.73

Abstaining from salt is linked to a rule of chastity in many tribes.

From the foregoing account it appears that among these tribes no sooner has a girl attained to womanhood than she is expected and indeed required to give proof of her newly acquired powers by cohabiting with a man, whether her husband or another. And the abstinence from salt during the girl's seclusion is all the more remarkable because as soon as the seclusion is over she has to use salt for a particular purpose, to which the people evidently attach very great importance, since in the event of her husband proving impotent she is even compelled, apparently, to commit [pg 027] adultery in order that the salted relish may be given out as usual. In this connexion it deserves to be noted that among the Wagogo of German East Africa women at their monthly periods may not sleep with their husbands and may not put salt in food.74 A similar rule is observed by the Nyanja-speaking tribes of Central Angoniland, with whose puberty customs we are here concerned. Among them, we are told, “some superstition exists with regard to the use of salt. A woman during her monthly sickness must on no account put salt into any food she is cooking, lest she give her husband or children a disease called tsempo (chitsoko soko), but calls a child to put it in, or, as the song goes, Natira mchere ni bondo chifukwa n'kupanda mwana,’ and pours in the salt by placing it on her knee, because there is no child handy. Should a party of villagers have gone to make salt, all sexual intercourse is forbidden among the people of the village, until the people who have gone to make the salt (from grass) return. When they do come back, they must make their entry into the village at night, and no one must see them. Then one of the elders of the village sleeps with his wife. She then cooks some relish, into which she puts some of the salt. This relish is handed round to the people who went to make the salt, who rub it on their feet and under their armpits.”75 Hence it would seem that in the mind of these people abstinence from salt is somehow associated with the idea of chastity. The same association meets us in the customs of many peoples in various parts of the world. For example, ancient Hindoo ritual prescribed that for three nights after a husband had brought his bride home, the two should sleep on the ground, remain chaste, and eat no salt.76 Among the Baganda, when a man was making a net, he had to refrain from eating salt and meat and from living with his wife; these restrictions he observed until the net took its first catch of fish. Similarly, so long as a fisherman's nets or traps were in the water, he must live apart from his wife, and neither he nor she nor their children might eat salt or [pg 028] meat.77 Evidence of the same sort could be multiplied,78 but without going into it further we may say that for some reason which is not obvious to us primitive man connects salt with the intercourse of the sexes and therefore forbids the use of that condiment in a variety of circumstances in which he deems continence necessary or desirable. As there is nothing which the savage regards as a greater bar between the sexes than the state of menstruation, he naturally prohibits the use of salt to women and girls at their monthly periods.

From the previous account, it seems that once a girl reaches womanhood among these tribes, she is expected—and indeed required—to demonstrate her new abilities by living with a man, whether he is her husband or not. The ban on salt during the girl's seclusion is particularly noteworthy because once her seclusion ends, she must use salt for a special purpose, which the community clearly considers very important. If her husband turns out to be impotent, she may even be forced to have an affair so that the salted dish can be served as usual. It's also worth noting that among the Wagogo of German East Africa, women are not allowed to sleep with their husbands or use salt in food during their monthly periods. A similar rule is followed by the Nyanja-speaking tribes of Central Angoniland, which is relevant to the puberty customs we are discussing. Among them, it is said, “some superstition exists regarding the use of salt. A woman during her monthly sickness must not put salt in any food she is cooking, for fear that she will cause her husband or children to get a disease called tsempo (chitsoko soko), but instead calls a child to do it, or as the song goes, Natira mchere ni bondo chifukwa n'kupanda mwana,’ and pours in the salt by placing it on her knee, because there is no child available. If a group of villagers has gone to make salt, all sexual activity is forbidden among the villagers until those who went to make the salt (from grass) return. When they do come back, they must enter the village at night, and no one is allowed to see them. Then, one of the village elders sleeps with his wife. She then cooks some dish, adding some of the salt. This dish is shared with the people who made the salt, and they rub it on their feet and under their armpits.” Thus, it seems that for these people, abstaining from salt is somehow linked to the idea of chastity. This same connection is found in the customs of many different cultures around the world. For instance, ancient Hindu rituals required that for three nights after a husband brought his bride home, the couple should sleep on the ground, remain chaste, and eat no salt. Among the Baganda, when a man was making a net, he had to avoid eating salt and meat and also refrain from sleeping with his wife; he followed these restrictions until the net caught its first fish. Similarly, as long as a fisherman’s nets or traps were in the water, he had to live apart from his wife, and neither he, she, nor their children could eat salt or [pg 028] meat. More examples like this could be given, but without delving deeper, we can conclude that for reasons that are not clear to us, primitive societies associate salt with sexual relations and therefore prohibit its use in various contexts where they feel self-control is necessary or desired. Since nothing signifies a greater barrier between the sexes for these societies than menstruation, they naturally restrict the use of salt for women and girls during their monthly periods.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the tribes around Lake Nyassa and along the Zambesi.

With the Awa-nkonde, a tribe at the northern end of Lake Nyassa, it is a rule that after her first menstruation a girl must be kept apart, with a few companions of her own sex, in a darkened house. The floor is covered with dry banana leaves, but no fire may be lit in the house, which is called “the house of the Awasungu,” that is, “of maidens who have no hearts.”79 When a girl reaches puberty, the Wafiomi of Eastern Africa hold a festival at which they make a noise with a peculiar kind of rattle. After that the girl remains for a year in the large common hut (tembe), where she occupies a special compartment screened off from the men's quarters. She may not cut her hair or touch food, but is fed by other women. At night, however, she quits the hut and dances with young men.80 Among the Barotse or Marotse of the upper Zambesi, “when a girl arrives at the age of puberty she is sent into the fields, where a hut is constructed far from the village. There, with two or three companions, she spends a month, returning home late and starting before dawn in order not to be seen by the men. The women of the village visit her, bringing food and honey, and singing and dancing to amuse her. At the end of a month her husband comes and fetches her. It is only after this ceremony that women have the right to smear themselves with ochre.”81 We may suspect that the chief reason why [pg 029] the girl during her seclusion may visit her home only by night is a fear, not so much lest she should be seen by men, as that she might be seen by the sun. Among the Wafiomi, as we have just learned, the young woman in similar circumstances is even free to dance with men, provided always that the dance is danced at night. The ceremonies among the Barotse or Marotse are somewhat more elaborate for a girl of the royal family. She is shut up for three months in a place which is kept secret from the public; only the women of her family know where it is. There she sits alone in the darkness of the hut, waited on by female slaves, who are strictly forbidden to speak and may communicate with her and with each other only by signs. During all this time, though she does nothing, she eats much, and when at last she comes forth, her appearance is quite changed, so fat has she grown. She is then led by night to the river and bathed in presence of all the women of the village. Next day she flaunts before the public in her gayest attire, her head bedecked with ornaments and her face mottled with red paint. So everybody knows what has happened.82

With the Awa-nkonde, a tribe at the northern end of Lake Nyassa, it's a rule that after her first period, a girl must be kept apart, with a few female friends, in a darkened house. The floor is covered with dry banana leaves, but no fire can be lit in the house, which is called "the house of the Awasungu," meaning "of maidens who lack hearts."79 When a girl reaches puberty, the Wafiomi of Eastern Africa hold a festival where they make noise with a special kind of rattle. After that, the girl stays for a year in the large communal hut (tembe), where she occupies a private area separated from the men's quarters. She is not allowed to cut her hair or touch food, but other women take care of her meals. However, at night, she leaves the hut and dances with young men.80 Among the Barotse or Marotse of the upper Zambesi, "When a girl hits puberty, she is sent out to the fields, where a hut is constructed far from the village. There, she spends a month with two or three friends, coming home late and leaving before dawn to avoid being seen by men. The village women come to visit her, bringing food and honey, and they sing and dance to keep her entertained. At the end of the month, her husband comes to pick her up. It is only after this ceremony that women are allowed to apply ochre on themselves."81 We might suspect that the main reason the girl can only visit her home at night during her seclusion is not just that she shouldn't be seen by men, but that she should not be seen by the sun. Among the Wafiomi, as we have just learned, the young woman in similar situations can even dance with men, as long as it’s at night. The rituals among the Barotse or Marotse are a bit more elaborate for a girl from a royal family. She is kept hidden for three months in a place that remains secret from the public; only her female relatives know where it is. There, she sits alone in the dark of the hut, attended by female slaves, who are strictly forbidden to speak and can communicate with her and each other only through gestures. During this time, although she does nothing, she eats a lot, and when she finally emerges, her appearance is quite transformed, having gained significant weight. She is then led by night to the river and bathed in front of all the village women. The next day, she parades before the public in her most vibrant outfit, her head adorned with ornaments and her face painted with red. So everyone is aware of what has occurred.82

The isolation of girls during puberty among the Thonga of Delagoa Bay.

Among the northern clans of the Thonga tribe, in South-Eastern Africa, about Delagoa Bay, when a girl thinks that the time of her nubility is near, she chooses an adoptive mother, perhaps in a neighbouring village. When the symptoms appear, she flies away from her own village and repairs to that of her adopted mother “to weep near her.” After that she is secluded with several other girls in the same condition for a month. They are shut up in a hut, and whenever they come outside they must wear a dirty greasy cloth over their faces as a veil. Every morning they are led to a pool and plunged in the water up to their necks. Initiated girls or women accompany them, singing obscene songs and driving away with sticks any man who meets them; for no man may see a girl during this time of seclusion. If he saw her, it is said that he would be struck blind. On their return from the river, the girls are again imprisoned in the hut, where they remain wet and shivering, for they may not go near the fire to warm themselves. During their seclusion they listen to lascivious songs sung by [pg 030] grown women and are instructed in sexual matters. At the end of the month the adoptive mother brings the girl home to her true mother and presents her with a pot of beer.83

Among the northern clans of the Thonga tribe in South-Eastern Africa, around Delagoa Bay, when a girl feels that she’s approaching adulthood, she picks an adoptive mother, possibly from a nearby village. Once the signs show up, she leaves her own village to go to her adoptive mother "to cry next to her." After that, she and several other girls in the same situation are kept secluded for a month. They stay in a hut, and whenever they venture outside, they have to wear a dirty, greasy cloth over their faces as a veil. Each morning, they are taken to a pool and submerged in the water up to their necks. Initiated girls or women accompany them, singing inappropriate songs and using sticks to chase away any man they encounter; no man is allowed to see a girl during this time of seclusion. If he does, it’s said that he would be struck blind. After returning from the river, the girls are confined again in the hut, where they remain wet and shivering because they can't go near the fire to warm up. During their seclusion, they listen to risqué songs sung by [pg 030] older women and are taught about sexual matters. At the end of the month, the adoptive mother takes the girl back to her biological mother and gifts her a pot of beer.83

The isolation of girls during puberty among the Caffre tribes of South Africa.

Among the Caffre tribes of South Africa the period of a girl's seclusion at puberty varies with the rank of her father. If he is a rich man, it may last twelve days; if he is a chief, it may last twenty-four days.84 And when it is over, the girl rubs herself over with red earth, and strews finely powdered red earth on the ground, before she leaves the hut where she has been shut up. Finally, though she was forbidden to drink milk all the days of her separation, she washes out her mouth with milk, and is from that moment regarded as a full-grown woman.85 Afterwards, in the dusk of the evening, she carries away all the objects with which she came into contact in the hut during her seclusion and buries them secretly in a sequestered spot.86 When the girl is a chief's daughter the ceremonies at her liberation from the hut are more elaborate than usual. She is led forth from the hut by a son of her father's councillor, who, wearing the wings of a blue crane, the badge of bravery, on his head, escorts her to the cattle kraal, where cows are slaughtered and dancing takes place. Large skins full of milk are sent to the spot from neighbouring villages; and after the dances are over the girl drinks milk for the first time since the day she entered into retreat. But the first mouthful is drunk by the girl's aunt or other female relative who had charge of her during her seclusion; and a little of it is poured on the fire-place.87 Amongst the Zulus, when the girl was a princess royal, the end of her time of separation was celebrated by a sort of saturnalia: law and order were for the time being in abeyance: every man, woman, and child might appropriate any article of property: the king abstained from interfering; and if during this reign of misrule he was robbed of anything he valued he could only [pg 031] recover it by paying a fine.88 Among the Basutos, when girls at puberty are bathed as usual by the matrons in a river, they are hidden separately in the turns and bends of the stream, and told to cover their heads, as they will be visited by a large serpent. Their limbs are then plastered with clay, little masks of straw are put on their faces, and thus arrayed they daily follow each other in procession, singing melancholy airs, to the fields, there to learn the labours of husbandry in which a great part of their adult life will be passed.89 We may suppose, though we are not told, that the straw masks which they wear in these processions are intended to hide their faces from the gaze of men and the rays of the sun.

Among the Caffre tribes of South Africa, a girl's period of seclusion during puberty varies depending on her father's status. If he is wealthy, it may last twelve days; if he is a chief, it could last twenty-four days.84 Once the seclusion ends, the girl rubs her body with red earth and scatters finely powdered red earth on the ground before she leaves the hut where she was isolated. Although she was forbidden to drink milk throughout her seclusion, she rinses her mouth with milk and is regarded as a full-grown woman from that moment.85 Afterwards, in the evening, she gathers all the items she touched in the hut during her seclusion and buries them in a hidden spot.86 When the girl is a chief's daughter, the ceremonies marking her release from the hut are more elaborate. She is led out by a son of her father's advisor, who wears the wings of a blue crane, a symbol of bravery, on his head, and escorts her to the cattle kraal, where cows are slaughtered and dancing occurs. Large skins filled with milk are sent from nearby villages, and after the dances, the girl drinks milk for the first time since entering her retreat. However, her aunt or another female relative who took care of her during seclusion takes the first sip, and a little milk is poured on the fire.87 Among the Zulus, when the girl is a princess royal, the end of her separation is celebrated with a sort of festival: rules and order are temporarily disregarded. Everyone—men, women, and children—can take any property, and the king does not intervene; if he loses something valuable during this chaotic time, he can only recover it by paying a fine.88 Among the Basutos, when girls reach puberty, they are bathed in a river by older women, hidden separately in the river’s bends, and told to cover their heads as a large serpent will visit them. Their limbs are then covered in clay, straw masks are placed on their faces, and dressed this way, they process daily, singing sad songs, to the fields to learn about farming, which will occupy much of their adult lives.89 We can assume, although it is not specified, that the straw masks they wear in these processions are meant to shield their faces from men’s gazes and the sun's rays.

Isolation of girls during puberty in the Lower Congo.

Among the tribes in the lower valley of the Congo, such as the Bavili, when a girl arrives at puberty, she has to pass two or three months in seclusion in a small hut built for the purpose. The hair of her head is shaved off, and every day the whole of her body is smeared with a red paint (takulla) made from a powdered wood mixed with water. Some of her companions reside in the hut with her and prepare the paint for her use. A woman is appointed to take charge of the hut and to keep off intruders. At the end of her confinement she is taken to water by the women of her family and bathed; the paint is rubbed off her body, her arms and legs are loaded with brass rings, and she is led in solemn procession under an umbrella to her husband's house. If these ceremonies were not performed, the people believe that the girl would be barren or would give birth to monsters, that the rain would cease to fall, the earth to bear fruit, and the fishing to be successful.90 Such serious importance do these savages [pg 032] ascribe to the performance of rites which to us seem so childish.

Among the tribes in the lower valley of the Congo, like the Bavili, when a girl reaches puberty, she must spend two or three months in seclusion in a small hut built for this purpose. Her head is shaved, and every day her entire body is covered with a red paint (takulla) made from powdered wood mixed with water. Some of her friends stay in the hut with her to prepare the paint. A woman is assigned to oversee the hut and keep out intruders. At the end of her confinement, the women in her family take her to water and bathe her; the paint is scrubbed off her body, her arms and legs are adorned with brass rings, and she is led in a solemn procession under an umbrella to her husband’s house. If these ceremonies are not performed, the people believe that the girl would be unable to have children or would give birth to monsters, that the rain would stop falling, the earth would stop producing, and fishing would fail. 90 Such serious importance do these individuals [pg 032] assign to performing rites that seem so childish to us.

§ 2. Isolation of Girls at Puberty in New Ireland, New Guinea, and Indonesia.

The isolation of girls during puberty in New Ireland.

In New Ireland girls are confined for four or five years in small cages, being kept in the dark and not allowed to set foot on the ground. The custom has been thus described by an eye-witness. “I heard from a teacher about some strange custom connected with some of the young girls here, so I asked the chief to take me to the house where they were. The house was about twenty-five feet in length, and stood in a reed and bamboo enclosure, across the entrance to which a bundle of dried grass was suspended to show that it was strictly tabu.’ Inside the house were three conical structures about seven or eight feet in height, and about ten or twelve feet in circumference at the bottom, and for about four feet from the ground, at which point they tapered off to a point at the top. These cages were made of the broad leaves of the pandanus-tree, sewn quite close together so that no light and little or no air could enter. On one side of each is an opening which is closed by a double door of plaited cocoa-nut tree and pandanus-tree leaves. About three feet from the ground there is a stage of bamboos which forms the floor. In each of these cages we were told there was a young woman confined, each of whom had to remain for at least four or five years, without ever being allowed to go outside the house. I could scarcely credit the story when I heard it; the whole thing seemed too horrible to be true. I spoke to the chief, and told him that I wished to see the inside of the cages, and also to see the girls that I might make them a present of a few beads. He told me that it was tabu,’ forbidden for any men but their own relations to look at them; but I suppose the promised beads [pg 033] acted as an inducement, and so he sent away for some old lady who had charge, and who alone is allowed to open the doors. While we were waiting we could hear the girls talking to the chief in a querulous way as if objecting to something or expressing their fears. The old woman came at length and certainly she did not seem a very pleasant jailor or guardian; nor did she seem to favour the request of the chief to allow us to see the girls, as she regarded us with anything but pleasant looks. However, she had to undo the door when the chief told her to do so, and then the girls peeped out at us, and, when told to do so, they held out their hands for the beads. I, however, purposely sat at some distance away and merely held out the beads to them, as I wished to draw them quite outside, that I might inspect the inside of the cages. This desire of mine gave rise to another difficulty, as these girls were not allowed to put their feet to the ground all the time they were confined in these places. However, they wished to get the beads, and so the old lady had to go outside and collect a lot of pieces of wood and bamboo, which she placed on the ground, and then going to one of the girls, she helped her down and held her hand as she stepped from one piece of wood to another until she came near enough to get the beads I held out to her. I then went to inspect the inside of the cage out of which she had come, but could scarcely put my head inside of it, the atmosphere was so hot and stifling. It was clean and contained nothing but a few short lengths of bamboo for holding water. There was only room for the girl to sit or lie down in a crouched position on the bamboo platform, and when the doors are shut it must be nearly or quite dark inside. The girls are never allowed to come out except once a day to bathe in a dish or wooden bowl placed close to each cage. They say that they perspire profusely. They are placed in these stifling cages when quite young, and must remain there until they are young women, when they are taken out and have each a great marriage feast provided for them. One of them was about fourteen or fifteen years old, and the chief told us that she had been there for five years, but would soon be taken out now. The other two were about eight and ten years old, and they have to stay there for several years [pg 034] longer.”91 A more recent observer has described the custom as it is observed on the western coast of New Ireland. He says: “A buck is the name of a little house, not larger than an ordinary hen-coop, in which a little girl is shut up, sometimes for weeks only, and at other times for months.... Briefly stated, the custom is this. Girls, on attaining puberty or betrothal, are enclosed in one of these little coops for a considerable time. They must remain there night and day. We saw two of these girls in two coops; the girls were not more than ten years old, still they were lying in a doubled-up position, as their little houses would not admit of them lying in any other way. These two coops were inside a large house; but the chief, in consideration of a present of a couple of tomahawks, ordered the ends to be torn out of the house to admit the light, so that we might photograph the buck. The occupant was allowed to put her face through an opening to be photographed, in consideration of another present.”92 As a consequence of their long enforced idleness in the shade the girls grow fat and their dusky complexion bleaches to a more pallid hue. Both their corpulence and their pallor are regarded as beauties.93

In New Ireland, girls are confined for four or five years in small cages, kept in the dark and not allowed to touch the ground. An eyewitness described the custom: “I heard from a teacher about a strange custom involving some of the young girls here, so I asked the chief to take me to the house where they were. The house was about twenty-five feet long and stood in a reed and bamboo enclosure, with a bundle of dried grass hanging across the entrance to indicate it was strictly ‘tabu.’ Inside the house were three conical structures about seven or eight feet tall, and about ten or twelve feet wide at the bottom, tapering off to a point at the top. These cages were made of broad leaves from the pandanus tree, sewn tightly together to keep out light and air. Each cage had an opening closed by a double door of woven coconut and pandanus leaves. About three feet off the ground, there was a bamboo platform serving as the floor. We were told that each cage held a young woman who had to stay inside for at least four or five years without ever going outside. I could hardly believe the story when I heard it; it seemed too horrible to be true. I told the chief that I wanted to see inside the cages and meet the girls to give them some beads. He informed me it was ‘tabu,’ forbidden for any men but their own relatives to look at them; but I guess the promised beads acted as an incentive, so he sent for an old woman in charge who was the only one allowed to open the doors. While we waited, we could hear the girls talking to the chief in a whiny tone as if they were objecting or expressing their fears. The old woman eventually arrived and didn’t seem very pleasant or eager to comply with the chief's request to let us see the girls; she looked at us with anything but friendly eyes. However, she had to unlock the door when the chief instructed her to, and then the girls peeked out at us, and when prompted, they reached out their hands for the beads. I purposely sat at a distance and just held out the beads to them, wanting to coax them outside so I could examine the inside of their cages. This wish created another obstacle since these girls weren’t allowed to touch the ground while confined. But they wanted the beads, so the old lady went outside to gather pieces of wood and bamboo, placing them on the ground. Then she helped one of the girls down, holding her hand as she stepped from one piece of wood to another until she got close enough to grab the beads I was holding out to her. I then went to inspect the inside of the cage she had exited, but I could barely fit my head inside due to the hot, stifling atmosphere. It was clean and had nothing but a few short bamboo pieces for holding water. There was only space for the girl to sit or lie down in a crouched position on the bamboo platform, and when the doors were shut, it must have been dark inside. The girls are never allowed out except once a day to bathe in a dish or wooden bowl placed next to each cage. They say they sweat profusely. They are placed in these tight cages when they are very young and must stay there until they become young women, at which point they are taken out and given a big marriage feast. One of them was about fourteen or fifteen years old, and the chief told us she had been there for five years but would be taken out soon. The other two girls were about eight and ten years old and had to stay there for several more years.” A more recent observer described the custom on the western coast of New Ireland: “A buck is a small house, not larger than an ordinary hen-coop, in which a little girl is shut up, sometimes for weeks and other times for months... In short, the custom is this. Girls, upon reaching puberty or engagement, are enclosed in one of these little coops for a considerable time. They must stay there day and night. We saw two girls in two coops; they were no more than ten years old and were lying in a curled-up position because their little houses wouldn’t allow them to lie any other way. These two coops were inside a large house, but the chief, in exchange for a couple of tomahawks, ordered the ends to be removed from the house to let in light so we could photograph the buck. The girl inside was allowed to stick her face out through an opening to be photographed, thanks to another gift.” As a result of their long forced idleness in the shade, the girls become plump and their dark skin lightens to a paler shade. Both their bulk and paleness are considered beautiful.

[pg 035]

Separation of girls during puberty in New Guinea, Borneo, Ceram, and Yap.

In Kabadi, a district of British New Guinea, “daughters of chiefs, when they are about twelve or thirteen years of age, are kept indoors for two or three years, never being allowed, under any pretence, to descend from the house, and the house is so shaded that the sun cannot shine on them.”94 Among the Yabim and Bukaua, two neighbouring and kindred tribes on the coast of German New Guinea, a girl at puberty is secluded for some five or six weeks in an inner part of the house; but she may not sit on the floor, lest her uncleanness should cleave to it, so a log of wood is placed for her to squat on. Moreover, she may not touch the ground with her feet; hence if she is obliged to quit the house for a short time, she is muffled up in mats and walks on two halves of a coco-nut shell, which are fastened like sandals to her feet by creeping plants. During her seclusion she is in charge of her aunts or other female relatives. At the end of the time she bathes, her person is loaded with ornaments, her face is grotesquely painted with red stripes on a white ground, and thus adorned she is brought forth in public to be admired by everybody. She is now marriageable.95 Among the Ot Danoms of Borneo girls at the age of eight or ten years are shut up in a little room or cell of the house, and cut off from all intercourse with the world for a long time. The cell, like the rest of the house, is raised on piles above the ground, and is lit by a single small window opening on a lonely place, so that the girl is in almost total darkness. She may not leave the room on any pretext whatever, not even for the most necessary purposes. None of her family may see her all the time she is shut up, but a single slave woman is appointed to wait on her. During her lonely confinement, which often lasts seven years, the girl occupies herself in weaving mats or with other handiwork. Her bodily growth is stunted by the long want of exercise, and [pg 036] when, on attaining womanhood, she is brought out, her complexion is pale and wax-like. She is now shewn the sun, the earth, the water, the trees, and the flowers, as if she were newly born. Then a great feast is made, a slave is killed, and the girl is smeared with his blood.96 In Ceram girls at puberty were formerly shut up by themselves in a hut which was kept dark.97 In Yap, one of the Caroline Islands, should a girl be overtaken by her first menstruation on the public road, she may not sit down on the earth, but must beg for a coco-nut shell to put under her. She is shut up for several days in a small hut at a distance from her parents' house, and afterwards she is bound to sleep for a hundred days in one of the special houses which are provided for the use of menstruous women.98

In Kabadi, a district of British New Guinea, "Daughters of chiefs, when they are around twelve or thirteen years old, are kept indoors for two or three years, never allowed to leave the house under any circumstances, and the house is shaded so that the sun cannot shine on them."94 Among the Yabim and Bukaua, two neighboring and related tribes on the coast of German New Guinea, when a girl reaches puberty, she is secluded for about five to six weeks in a part of the house. However, she is not allowed to sit on the floor, as they believe her uncleanness might contaminate it, so a log is provided for her to squat on. Furthermore, she must not touch the ground with her feet; if she has to leave the house briefly, she is wrapped in mats and walks on two halves of a coconut shell, which are tied to her feet with creeping plants. During her seclusion, her aunts or other female relatives take care of her. At the end of this period, she bathes, adorns herself with jewelry, paints her face in a striking design with red stripes on a white background, and is then presented in public to be admired by everyone. She is now eligible for marriage.95 Among the Ot Danoms of Borneo, girls around eight or ten years old are shut in a small room or cell in the house, completely cut off from the outside world for an extended time. The cell, like the rest of the house, is elevated above the ground and has only a small window facing a lonely area, keeping the girl in almost total darkness. She cannot leave the room for any reason, not even for essential necessities. No family members are allowed to see her while she is confined, except for a single slave woman who is assigned to care for her. During her lengthy isolation, which can last seven years, the girl keeps herself busy by weaving mats or engaging in other crafts. Due to the lack of physical activity, her growth is stunted, and [pg 036] when she finally reaches adulthood, she is brought out with a pale, waxy complexion. She is then introduced to the sun, earth, water, trees, and flowers, as if she were just born. A large feast is held, a slave is killed, and the girl is smeared with his blood.96 In Ceram, girls at puberty were previously isolated in a dark hut by themselves.97 In Yap, one of the Caroline Islands, if a girl experiences her first menstruation on the public road, she cannot sit on the ground but must ask for a coconut shell to place underneath her. She is confined for several days in a small hut away from her parents' house, and afterward, she is required to sleep for a hundred days in one of the designated houses meant for menstruating women.98

§ 3. Isolation of Girls at Puberty in the Torres Straits Islands and Northern Australia.

Girls' seclusion during puberty in Mabuiag, Torres Straits.

In the island of Mabuiag, Torres Straits, when the signs of puberty appear on a girl, a circle of bushes is made in a dark corner of the house. Here, decked with shoulder-belts, armlets, leglets just below the knees, and anklets, wearing a chaplet on her head, and shell ornaments in her ears, on her chest, and on her back, she squats in the midst of the bushes, which are piled so high round about her that only her head is visible. In this state of seclusion she must remain for three months. All this time the sun may not shine upon her, but at night she is allowed to slip out of the hut, and the bushes that hedge her in are then changed. She may not feed herself or handle food, but is fed by one or two old women, her maternal aunts, who are especially appointed to look after her. One of these women cooks food for her at a special fire in the forest. The girl is forbidden to eat turtle or [pg 037] turtle eggs during the season when the turtles are breeding; but no vegetable food is refused her. No man, not even her own father, may come into the house while her seclusion lasts; for if her father saw her at this time he would certainly have bad luck in his fishing, and would probably smash his canoe the very next time he went out in it. At the end of the three months she is carried down to a fresh-water creek by her attendants, hanging on to their shoulders in such a way that her feet do not touch the ground, while the women of the tribe form a ring round her, and thus escort her to the beach. Arrived at the shore, she is stripped of her ornaments, and the bearers stagger with her into the creek, where they immerse her, and all the other women join in splashing water over both the girl and her bearers. When they come out of the water one of the two attendants makes a heap of grass for her charge to squat upon. The other runs to the reef, catches a small crab, tears off its claws, and hastens back with them to the creek. Here in the meantime a fire has been kindled, and the claws are roasted at it. The girl is then fed by her attendants with the roasted claws. After that she is freshly decorated, and the whole party marches back to the village in a single rank, the girl walking in the centre between her two old aunts, who hold her by the wrists. The husbands of her aunts now receive her and lead her into the house of one of them, where all partake of food, and the girl is allowed once more to feed herself in the usual manner. A dance follows, in which the girl takes a prominent part, dancing between the husbands of the two aunts who had charge of her in her retirement.99

On the island of Mabuiag in the Torres Straits, when a girl starts showing signs of puberty, a circle of bushes is made in a dark corner of the house. Dressed with shoulder belts, armlets, leglets just below the knees, and anklets, and wearing a chaplet on her head along with shell ornaments in her ears, on her chest, and on her back, she sits in the middle of the bushes, which are piled high around her so that only her head is visible. In this secluded state, she must stay for three months. During this time, the sun is not allowed to shine on her, but at night she can sneak out of the hut, and the bushes surrounding her are changed. She is not allowed to feed herself or handle food; instead, one or two older women, her maternal aunts, are specifically assigned to take care of her. One of these women cooks food for her over a special fire in the forest. The girl is forbidden to eat turtle or turtle eggs while the turtles are breeding, but she can eat all other types of food. No man, not even her father, is allowed in the house during her seclusion; if her father were to see her at this time, it would bring him bad luck while fishing, and he might even break his canoe the next time he used it. At the end of the three months, her attendants carry her to a freshwater creek, supporting her in such a way that her feet don't touch the ground, while the women of the tribe create a ring around her to escort her to the beach. Once they reach the shore, she is stripped of her ornaments, and the bearers carry her into the creek, where they immerse her and the other women splash water over both the girl and her bearers. When they come out of the water, one of the attendants makes a pile of grass for her to sit on. The other goes to the reef, catches a small crab, tears off its claws, and quickly brings them back to the creek. Meanwhile, a fire has been started, and the claws are roasted. The girl is then fed by her attendants with the roasted claws. After that, she is decorated again, and the whole group walks back to the village in a single line, with the girl walking in the center between her two aunts, who hold her by the wrists. The husbands of her aunts then welcome her and take her into one of their houses, where everyone shares a meal, and she is allowed to feed herself normally again. A dance follows, in which the girl plays a key role, dancing between the husbands of the two aunts who cared for her during her seclusion.

Seclusion of girls during puberty in Northern Australia.

Among the Yaraikanna tribe of Cape York Peninsula, in Northern Queensland, a girl at puberty is said to live by herself for a month or six weeks; no man may see her, though any woman may. She stays in a hut or shelter specially made for her, on the floor of which she lies supine. She may not see the sun, and towards sunset she must keep her eyes shut until the sun has gone down, otherwise it is thought that her nose will be diseased. During her seclusion [pg 038] she may eat nothing that lives in salt water, or a snake would kill her. An old woman waits upon her and supplies her with roots, yams, and water.100 Some tribes are wont to bury their girls at such seasons more or less deeply in the ground, perhaps in order to hide them from the light of the sun. Thus the Larrakeeyah tribe in the northern territory of South Australia used to cover a girl up with dirt for three days at her first monthly period.101 In similar circumstances the Otati tribe, on the east coast of the Cape York Peninsula, make an excavation in the ground, where the girl squats. A bower is then built over the hole, and sand is thrown on the young woman till she is covered up to the hips. In this condition she remains for the first day, but comes out at night. So long as the period lasts, she stays in the bower during the day-time, but is not again covered with sand. Afterwards her body is painted red and white from the head to the hips, and she returns to the camp, where she squats first on the right side, then on the left side, and then on the lap of her future husband, who has been previously selected for her.102 Among the natives of the Pennefather River, in the Cape York Peninsula, Queensland, when a girl menstruates for the first time, her mother takes her away from the camp to some secluded spot, where she digs a circular hole in the sandy soil under the shade of a tree. In this hole the girl squats with crossed legs and is covered with sand from the waist downwards. A digging-stick is planted firmly in the sand on each side of her, and the place is surrounded by a fence of bushes except in front, where her mother kindles a fire. Here the girl stays all day, sitting with her arms crossed and the palms of her hands resting on the sand. She may not move her arms except to take food from her mother or to scratch herself; and in scratching herself she may not touch herself with her own hands, but must use for the purpose a splinter of wood, which, when it is not in use, is stuck in her hair. She may speak to nobody but her mother; indeed nobody else would [pg 039] think of coming near her. At evening she lays hold of the two digging-sticks and by their help frees herself from the superincumbent weight of sand and returns to the camp. Next morning she is again buried in the sand under the shade of the tree and remains there again till evening. This she does daily for five days. On her return at evening on the fifth day her mother decorates her with a waist-band, a forehead-band, and a necklet of pearl-shell, ties green parrot feathers round her arms and wrists and across her chest, and smears her body, back and front, from the waist upwards with blotches of red, white, and yellow paint. She has in like manner to be buried in the sand at her second and third menstruations, but at the fourth she is allowed to remain in camp, only signifying her condition by wearing a basket of empty shells on her back.103 Among the Kia blacks of the Prosperine River, on the east coast of Queensland, a girl at puberty has to sit or lie down in a shallow pit away from the camp; a rough hut of bushes is erected over her to protect her from the inclemency of the weather. There she stays for about a week, waited on by her mother and sister, the only persons to whom she may speak. She is allowed to drink water, but may not touch it with her hands; and she may scratch herself a little with a mussel-shell. This seclusion is repeated at her second and third monthly periods, but when the third is over she is brought to her husband bedecked with savage finery. Eagle-hawk or cockatoo feathers are stuck in her hair: a shell hangs over her forehead: grass bugles encircle her neck and an apron of opossum skin her waist: strings are tied to her arms and wrists; and her whole body is mottled with patterns drawn in red, white, and yellow pigments and charcoal.104

Among the Yaraikanna tribe of Cape York Peninsula, in Northern Queensland, a girl who has started her period is said to live alone for a month or six weeks; no man is allowed to see her, but any woman can. She stays in a hut or shelter made just for her, lying on her back on the floor. She must not see the sun, and at sunset, she has to keep her eyes shut until it has completely gone down, otherwise, people believe her nose will get sick. During her seclusion, she can't eat anything from saltwater, or a snake would kill her. An old woman takes care of her, providing her with roots, yams, and water. Some tribes bury their girls at this time, sometimes partially underground, perhaps to keep them out of the sun. For example, the Larrakeeyah tribe in northern South Australia used to cover a girl with dirt for three days when she got her first period. In similar situations, the Otati tribe on the east coast of Cape York Peninsula digs a hole in the ground where the girl squats. A shelter is built above the hole, and sand is piled on her until she's covered up to her hips. She stays like that for the first day, but comes out at night. As long as her period lasts, she remains in the shelter during the day but isn't covered with sand again. Afterward, her body is painted red and white from head to hips, and she returns to the camp, where she squats first on the right side, then on the left, and finally on the lap of her future husband, who has already been chosen for her. Among the natives of the Pennefather River in Cape York Peninsula, Queensland, when a girl menstruates for the first time, her mother takes her away to a private spot, where she digs a circular hole in the sandy soil under a tree's shade. The girl squats in the hole with her legs crossed and is covered with sand from the waist down. A digging stick is placed firmly in the sand on each side of her, surrounded by a bush fence except in front, where her mother lights a fire. She stays there all day, sitting with her arms crossed and her palms resting on the sand. She can only use her arms to take food from her mother or to scratch herself; if she scratches, she can't use her hands but must use a stick, which she keeps in her hair when not using it. She can only speak to her mother, as no one else would think to come near. In the evening, she uses the digging sticks to free herself from the sand's weight and returns to the camp. The next morning, she's again buried in the sand under the tree's shade and remains there until evening. She does this daily for five days. When she returns on the evening of the fifth day, her mother decorates her with a waistband, a forehead band, and a necklace made of pearl shell, ties green parrot feathers around her arms and wrists and across her chest, and covers her body from the waist up with red, white, and yellow paint. She must also go through the sand burial for her second and third periods, but by the fourth, she can stay in camp, only indicating her condition by wearing a basket of empty shells on her back. Among the Kia blacks of the Proserpine River on the east coast of Queensland, a girl at puberty has to sit or lie down in a shallow pit away from the camp; a rough hut of bushes is built over her to protect her from bad weather. She stays there for about a week, attended to by her mother and sister, the only people she can talk to. She can drink water but must not touch it with her hands; she can scratch herself a little with a mussel shell. This seclusion is repeated during her second and third periods, but when the third is over, she is brought to her husband dressed in traditional decorations. Eagle-hawk or cockatoo feathers are placed in her hair; a shell hangs over her forehead; grass bugles encircle her neck, and an apron of opossum skin is tied around her waist. Strings are attached to her arms and wrists, and her whole body is covered in patterns painted with red, white, yellow pigments, and charcoal.

Isolation of girls during puberty in the Torres Strait Islands.

Among the Uiyumkwi tribe in Red Island the girl lies at full length in a shallow trench dug in the foreshore, and sand is lightly thrown over her legs and body up to the breasts, which appear not to be covered. A rough shelter of boughs is then built over her, and thus she [pg 040] remains lying for a few hours. Then she and her attendant go into the bush and look for food, which they cook at a fire close to the shelter. They sleep under the boughs, the girl remaining secluded from the camp but apparently not being again buried. At the end of the symptoms she stands over hot stones and water is poured over her, till, trickling from her body on the stones, it is converted into steam and envelops her in a cloud of vapour. Then she is painted with red and white stripes and returns to the camp. If her future husband has already been chosen, she goes to him and they eat some food together, which the girl has previously brought from the bush.105 In Prince of Wales Island, Torres Strait, the treatment of the patient is similar, but lasts for about two months. During the day she lies covered up with sand in a shallow hole on the beach, over which a hut is built. At night she may get out of the hole, but she may not leave the hut. Her paternal aunt looks after her, and both of them must abstain from eating turtle, dugong, and the heads of fish. Were they to eat the heads of fish no more fish would be caught. During the time of the girl's seclusion, the aunt who waits upon her has the right to enter any house and take from it anything she likes without payment, provided she does so before the sun rises. When the time of her retirement has come to an end, the girl bathes in the sea while the morning star is rising, and after performing various other ceremonies is readmitted to society.106 In Saibai, another island of Torres Straits, at her first monthly sickness a girl lives secluded in the forest for about a fortnight, during which no man may see her; even the women who have spoken to her in the forest must wash in salt water before they speak to a man. Two girls wait upon and feed the damsel, putting the food into her mouth, [pg 041] for she is not allowed to touch it with her own hands. Nor may she eat dugong and turtle. At the end of a fortnight the girl and her attendants bathe in salt water while the tide is running out. Afterwards they are clean, may again speak to men without ceremony, and move freely about the village. In Yam and Tutu a girl at puberty retires for a month to the forest, where no man nor even her own mother may look upon her. She is waited on by women who stand to her in a certain relationship (mowai), apparently her paternal aunts. She is blackened all over with charcoal and wears a long petticoat reaching below her knees. During her seclusion the married women of the village often assemble in the forest and dance, and the girl's aunts relieve the tedium of the proceedings by thrashing her from time to time as a useful preparation for matrimony. At the end of a month the whole party go into the sea, and the charcoal is washed off the girl. After that she is decorated, her body blackened again, her hair reddened with ochre, and in the evening she is brought back to her father's house, where she is received with weeping and lamentation because she has been so long away.107

Among the Uiyumkwi tribe on Red Island, the girl lies flat in a shallow trench dug on the shore, and sand is lightly thrown over her legs and body up to her breasts, which remain uncovered. A rough shelter made of branches is built over her, and she stays there for a few hours. Then, she and her attendant go into the bush to search for food, which they cook over a fire near the shelter. They sleep beneath the branches, with the girl kept away from the camp but seemingly not buried again. At the end of her seclusion, she stands over hot stones while water is poured over her, creating steam that envelops her in a vaporous cloud. Then, she's painted with red and white stripes and returns to the camp. If her future husband has already been selected, she goes to him, and they share a meal that the girl has brought from the bush. In Prince of Wales Island, Torres Strait, the girl's seclusion is similar but lasts about two months. During the day, she lies covered with sand in a shallow hole on the beach, which has a hut constructed over it. At night, she can leave the hole but must remain in the hut. Her paternal aunt takes care of her, and both must avoid eating turtle, dugong, and fish heads. If they eat fish heads, no more fish will be caught. During her seclusion, the aunt can enter any house and take whatever she wants without paying, as long as she does so before dawn. When her seclusion ends, the girl bathes in the sea as the morning star rises, and after performing various ceremonies, she is readmitted to society. In Saibai, another island in Torres Strait, during her first monthly period, a girl stays secluded in the forest for about two weeks, during which no man may see her; even the women who have talked to her in the forest must wash in saltwater before speaking to any men. Two girls attend to and feed her, placing food into her mouth, as she is not allowed to touch it herself. She is also prohibited from eating dugong and turtle. After two weeks, the girl and her attendants bathe in saltwater as the tide goes out. Once clean, they can speak to men freely and move about the village. In Yam and Tutu, a girl going through puberty spends a month in the forest, where neither men nor even her own mother may see her. She is attended by women related to her (mowai), likely her paternal aunts. She is covered in charcoal and wears a long petticoat that goes below her knees. During her seclusion, married women from the village often gather in the forest to dance, and the girl's aunts occasionally whip her to prepare her for marriage. At the end of the month, everyone goes into the sea, and the charcoal is washed off her. Afterward, she is decorated again, her body covered with charcoal, her hair dyed red with ochre, and in the evening, she is brought back to her father's house, where she is welcomed with tears and mourning for having been away for so long.

§ 4. Isolation of Girls at Puberty among Native Americans in North America.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Native Americans of California.

Among the Indians of California a girl at her first menstruation “was thought to be possessed of a particular degree of supernatural power, and this was not always regarded as entirely defiling or malevolent. Often, however, there was a strong feeling of the power of evil inherent in her condition. Not only was she secluded from her family and the community, but an attempt was made to seclude the world from her. One of the injunctions most strongly laid upon her was not to look about her. She kept her head bowed and was forbidden to see the world and the sun. Some tribes covered her with a blanket. Many of the customs in this connection resembled those of the North Pacific Coast most strongly, such as the prohibition to the girl to touch or scratch her head with her hand, a special implement being furnished her for the purpose. Sometimes [pg 042] she could eat only when fed and in other cases fasted altogether. Some form of public ceremony, often accompanied by a dance and sometimes by a form of ordeal for the girl, was practised nearly everywhere. Such ceremonies were well developed in Southern California, where a number of actions symbolical of the girl's maturity and subsequent life were performed.”108 Thus among the Maidu Indians of California a girl at puberty remained shut up in a small separate hut. For five days she might not eat flesh or fish nor feed herself, but was fed by her mother or other old woman. She had a basket, plate, and cup for her own use, and a stick with which to scratch her head, for she might not scratch it with her fingers. At the end of five days she took a warm bath and, while she still remained in the hut and plied the scratching-stick on her head, was privileged to feed herself with her own hands. After five days more she bathed in the river, after which her parents gave a great feast in her honour. At the feast the girl was dressed in her best, and anybody might ask her parents for anything he pleased, and they had to give it, even if it was the hand of their daughter in marriage. During the period of her seclusion in the hut the girl was allowed to go by night to her parents' house and listen to songs sung by her friends and relations, who assembled for the purpose. Among the songs were some that related to the different roots and seeds which in these tribes it is the business of women to gather for food. While the singers sang, she sat by herself in a corner of the house muffled up completely in mats and skins; no man or boy might come near her.109 Among the Hupa, another Indian tribe of California, when a girl had reached maturity her male relatives danced all night for nine successive nights, while the girl remained apart, eating no meat and blindfolded. But on the tenth night she entered the house and took part in the last dance.110 Among the Wintun, [pg 043] another Californian tribe, a girl at puberty was banished from the camp and lived alone in a distant booth, fasting rigidly from animal food; it was death to any person to touch or even approach her.111

Among the Indians of California, when a girl got her first period, she was believed to have a certain degree of supernatural power, and this wasn't always seen as entirely unclean or evil. Often, though, there was a strong sense of the inherent evil in her condition. She was not only kept away from her family and community, but there was also a serious effort to keep the world away from her. One of the main rules was that she was not to look around. She kept her head down and was forbidden from seeing the world and the sun. Some tribes covered her with a blanket. Many of the customs in this context were very similar to those of the North Pacific Coast, like the rule that the girl couldn't touch or scratch her head with her hand; instead, she was given a special tool for that purpose. Sometimes she could only eat when someone fed her, and in other cases, she completely fasted. Almost everywhere, some kind of public ceremony was practiced, often involving a dance and sometimes even an ordeal for the girl. Such ceremonies were well established in Southern California, where several actions symbolizing the girl's maturity and future life took place. Thus, among the Maidu Indians, a girl at puberty stayed isolated in a small separate hut. For five days, she couldn’t eat meat or fish or feed herself; instead, her mother or another older woman would feed her. She had her own basket, plate, and cup, along with a stick to scratch her head since she wasn’t allowed to do it with her fingers. After five days, she took a warm bath and, while still in the hut and using the scratching stick on her head, was allowed to feed herself. After another five days, she bathed in the river, after which her parents held a grand feast in her honor. At the feast, the girl was dressed in her finest clothes, and anyone could ask her parents for anything they wanted, and they had to give it, even if it was a request for their daughter’s hand in marriage. During her time of seclusion, the girl could go at night to her parents' house to listen to songs sung by her friends and family who gathered for this purpose. Among the songs were those that talked about the various roots and seeds that women in these tribes gathered for food. While the singers sang, she sat alone in a corner of the house, completely wrapped up in mats and skins; no man or boy was allowed to come near her. Among the Hupa, another California Indian tribe, when a girl reached maturity, her male relatives danced all night for nine nights in a row while the girl stayed apart, eating no meat and wearing a blindfold. But on the tenth night, she entered the house and took part in the final dance. Among the Wintun, another Californian tribe, a girl at puberty was sent away from the camp and lived alone in a distant booth, strictly fasting from animal food; it was considered lethal for anyone to touch or even get close to her.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Indigenous people of Washington State.

In the interior of Washington State, about Colville, “the customs of the Indians, in relation to the treatment of females, are singular. On the first appearance of the menses, they are furnished with provisions, and sent into the woods, to remain concealed for two days; for they have a superstition, that if a man should be seen or met with during that time, death will be the consequence. At the end of the second day, the woman is permitted to return to the lodge, when she is placed in a hut just large enough for her to lie in at full length, in which she is compelled to remain for twenty days, cut off from all communication with her friends, and is obliged to hide her face at the appearance of a man. Provisions are supplied her daily. After this, she is required to perform repeated ablutions, before she can resume her place in the family. At every return, the women go into seclusion for two or more days.”112 Among the Chinook Indians who inhabited the coast of Washington State, from Shoalwater Bay as far as Grey's Harbour, when a chief's daughter attained to puberty, she was hidden for five days from the view of the people; she might not look at them nor at the sky, nor might she pick berries. It was believed that if she were to look at the sky, the weather would be bad; that if she picked berries, it would rain; and that when she hung her towel of cedar-bark on a spruce-tree, the tree withered up at once. She went out of the house by a separate door and bathed in a creek far from the village. She fasted for some days, and for many days more she might not eat fresh food.113

In the interior of Washington State, around Colville, The customs of Native Americans concerning the treatment of women are quite distinct. When a girl first gets her period, she is given food and sent into the woods to stay hidden for two days, as they believe that if a man sees her during this time, it could lead to death. After the second day, she can return home, but she must stay in a small hut where she can only lie down for twenty days, completely isolated from her friends, and she has to cover her face if a man is present. Daily meals are provided to her. After this period, she must undergo several washings before she can rejoin her family. Each time, women go into seclusion for two or more days.112 Among the Chinook people, who lived along the coast of Washington State from Shoalwater Bay to Grey's Harbour, when a chief's daughter reaches puberty, she is hidden from the community for five days; she cannot look at people, the sky, or pick berries. It was believed that if she looked at the sky, the weather would turn bad, and if she picked berries, it would rain, and if she hung her cedar-bark towel on a spruce tree, that tree would instantly wither. She would leave the house through a separate door and bathe in a creek far from the village. She fasted for several days, and for many days after that, she couldn't eat fresh food. 113

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island.

Amongst the Aht or Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island, when girls reach puberty they are placed in a sort of gallery in the house “and are there surrounded completely [pg 044] with mats, so that neither the sun nor any fire can be seen. In this cage they remain for several days. Water is given them, but no food. The longer a girl remains in this retirement the greater honour is it to the parents; but she is disgraced for life if it is known that she has seen fire or the sun during this initiatory ordeal.”114 Pictures of the mythical thunder-bird are painted on the screens behind which she hides. During her seclusion she may neither move nor lie down, but must always sit in a squatting posture. She may not touch her hair with her hands, but is allowed to scratch her head with a comb or a piece of bone provided for the purpose. To scratch her body is also forbidden, as it is believed that every scratch would leave a scar. For eight months after reaching maturity she may not eat any fresh food, particularly salmon; moreover, she must eat by herself, and use a cup and dish of her own.115

Among the Aht or Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island, when girls hit puberty, they are placed in a sort of gallery in the house “and are completely surrounded [pg 044] with mats, so that neither the sun nor any fire can be seen. In this enclosed space, they remain for several days. They receive water but no food. The longer a girl remains in this isolation, the more honor it brings to her parents; however, she will be shamed for life if it's discovered that she has seen fire or the sun during this initiation.”114 Pictures of the mythical thunderbird are painted on the screens behind which she hides. During her seclusion, she cannot move or lie down, but must always squat. She is not allowed to touch her hair with her hands but can scratch her head with a comb or a piece of bone provided for that purpose. Scratching her body is also forbidden, as it's believed that every scratch would leave a scar. For eight months after reaching maturity, she cannot eat any fresh food, especially salmon; additionally, she must eat alone and use her own cup and dish.115

Seclusion of girls at puberty among the Haida Indians of the Queen Charlotte Islands.

Among the Haida Indians of the Queen Charlotte Islands girls at puberty were secluded behind screens in the house for about twenty days. In some parts of the islands separate fires were provided for the girls, and they went out and in by a separate door at the back of the house. If a girl at such a time was obliged to go out by the front door, all the weapons, gambling-sticks, medicine, and other articles had to be removed from the house till her return, for otherwise it was thought that they would be unlucky; and if there was a good hunter in the house, he also had to go out at the same time on pain of losing his good luck if he remained. During several months or even half a year the girl was bound to wear a peculiar cloak or hood made of cedar-bark, nearly conical in shape and reaching [pg 045] down below the breast, but open before the face. After the twenty days were over the girl took a bath; none of the water might be spilled, it had all to be taken back to the woods, else the girl would not live long. On the west coast of the islands the damsel might eat nothing but black cod for four years; for the people believed that other kinds of fish would become scarce if she partook of them. At Kloo the young woman at such times was forbidden to look at the sea, and for forty days she might not gaze at the fire; for a whole year she might not walk on the beach below high-water mark, because then the tide would come in, covering part of the food supply, and there would be bad weather. For five years she might not eat salmon, or the fish would be scarce; and when her family went to a salmon-creek, she landed from the canoe at the mouth of the creek and came to the smoke-house from behind; for were she to see a salmon leap, all the salmon might leave the creek. Among the Haidas of Masset it was believed that if the girl looked at the sky, the weather would be bad, and that if she stepped over a salmon-creek, all the salmon would disappear.116

Among the Haida Indians of the Queen Charlotte Islands, girls at puberty were kept behind screens in the house for about twenty days. In some areas of the islands, they had separate fires for the girls, and they would enter and exit through a separate door at the back of the house. If a girl needed to go out the front door during this time, all weapons, gambling sticks, medicine, and other items had to be removed from the house until she returned, because it was believed they would bring bad luck. If a skilled hunter was in the house, he also had to leave at the same time, or he risked losing his good fortune by staying. For several months or even up to half a year, the girl was required to wear a special cloak or hood made of cedar bark, which was almost conical in shape and reached below her breast but was open at the front. After the twenty days were finished, the girl would take a bath; none of the water could be spilled; it all had to be returned to the woods, or she wouldn’t live long. On the west coast of the islands, the girl could only eat black cod for four years, as the people believed that eating other types of fish would cause them to become scarce. In Kloo, the young woman was not allowed to look at the sea, and for forty days, she couldn’t look at the fire; for an entire year, she couldn’t walk on the beach below high-water mark, because it was thought that the tide would come in, covering part of the food supply and causing bad weather. For five years, she was not allowed to eat salmon, or the fish would become scarce. When her family went to a salmon creek, she would get out of the canoe at the mouth of the creek and approach the smokehouse from behind; if she were to see a salmon leap, all the salmon might leave the creek. Among the Haidas of Masset, it was believed that if the girl looked at the sky, the weather would turn bad, and if she stepped over a salmon creek, all the salmon would vanish.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Tlingit Indians of Alaska.

Amongst the Tlingit (Thlinkeet) or Kolosh Indians of Alaska, when a girl shewed signs of womanhood she used to be confined to a little hut or cage, which was completely blocked up with the exception of a small air-hole. In this dark and filthy abode she had to remain a year, without fire, exercise, or associates. Only her mother and a female slave might supply her with nourishment. Her food was put in at the little window; she had to drink out of the wing-bone of a white-headed eagle. The time of her seclusion was afterwards reduced in some places to six or three months or even less. She had to wear a sort of hat with long flaps, [pg 046] that her gaze might not pollute the sky; for she was thought unfit for the sun to shine upon, and it was imagined that her look would destroy the luck of a hunter, fisher, or gambler, turn things to stone, and do other mischief. At the end of her confinement her old clothes were burnt, new ones were made, and a feast was given, at which a slit was cut in her under lip parallel to the mouth, and a piece of wood or shell was inserted to keep the aperture open.117

Among the Tlingit (Thlinkeet) or Kolosh Indians of Alaska, when a girl showed signs of becoming a woman, she would be placed in a small hut or cage that was mostly sealed off except for a tiny air hole. In this dark and grim space, she had to stay for a year, without fire, exercise, or companionship. Only her mother and a female helper were allowed to bring her food. Her meals were handed to her through the small window, and she drank from the wing bone of a white-headed eagle. In some places, the duration of her seclusion was later shortened to six months, three months, or even less. She had to wear a type of hat with long flaps to prevent her gaze from polluting the sky; it was believed she was unfit for the sun's light, and that her look could ruin the luck of a hunter, fisherman, or gambler, turn things to stone, and cause other mischief. At the end of her confinement, her old clothes were burned, new ones were made, and a feast was held, during which a slit was cut in her lower lip, parallel to her mouth, and a piece of wood or shell was inserted to keep the opening from closing.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Tsetsaut and Bella Coola Indigenous peoples of British Columbia.

In the Tsetsaut tribe of British Columbia a girl at puberty wears a large hat of skin which comes down over her face and screens it from the sun. It is believed that if she were to expose her face to the sun or to the sky, rain would fall. The hat protects her face also against the fire, which ought not to strike her skin; to shield her hands she wears mittens. In her mouth she carries the tooth of an animal to prevent her own teeth from becoming hollow. For a whole year she may not see blood unless her face is blackened; otherwise she would grow blind. For two years she wears the hat and lives in a hut by herself, although she is allowed to see other people. At the end of two years a man takes the hat from her head and throws it away.118 In the Bilqula or Bella Coola tribe of British Columbia, when a girl attains puberty she must stay in the shed which serves as her bedroom, where she has a separate fireplace. She is not allowed to descend to the main part of the house, and may not sit by the fire of the family. For four days she is [pg 047] bound to remain motionless in a sitting posture. She fasts during the day, but is allowed a little food and drink very early in the morning. After the four days' seclusion she may leave her room, but only through a separate opening cut in the floor, for the houses are raised on piles. She may not yet come into the chief room. In leaving the house she wears a large hat which protects her face against the rays of the sun. It is believed that if the sun were to shine on her face her eyes would suffer. She may pick berries on the hills, but may not come near the river or sea for a whole year. Were she to eat fresh salmon she would lose her senses, or her mouth would be changed into a long beak.119

In the Tsetsaut tribe of British Columbia, a girl at puberty wears a large skin hat that covers her face to shield it from the sun. It's believed that if she exposes her face to the sun or sky, it will rain. The hat also protects her face from fire, which should never touch her skin; she wears mittens to protect her hands. In her mouth, she carries an animal tooth to prevent her own teeth from becoming hollow. For a whole year, she cannot see blood unless her face is blackened; otherwise, she would go blind. She wears the hat for two years and lives in a hut by herself, although she can still see other people. At the end of two years, a man takes the hat off her head and discards it. 118 In the Bilqula or Bella Coola tribe of British Columbia, when a girl reaches puberty, she has to stay in the shed that serves as her bedroom, which has a separate fireplace. She isn’t allowed to go down to the main part of the house and cannot sit by the family fire. For four days, she must stay completely still in a sitting position. She fasts during the day but is allowed a little food and drink very early in the morning. After four days of seclusion, she can leave her room, but only through a separate opening cut into the floor since the houses are built on stilts. She still cannot enter the main room. When leaving the house, she wears a large hat to protect her face from the sun's rays. It's believed that if sunlight touches her face, her eyes will be harmed. She can pick berries on the hills but must stay away from the river or sea for a whole year. If she eats fresh salmon, she would lose her senses, or her mouth would turn into a long beak. 119

Girls' Seclusion at Puberty Among the Tinneh Indians of British Columbia.

Among the Tinneh Indians about Stuart Lake, Babine Lake, and Fraser Lake in British Columbia “girls verging on maturity, that is when their breasts begin to form, take swans' feathers mixed with human hair and plait bands, which they tie round their wrists and ankles to secure long life. At this time they are careful that the dishes out of which they eat, are used by no other person, and wholly devoted to their own use; during this period they eat nothing but dog fish, and starvation only will drive them to eat either fresh fish or meat. When their first periodical sickness comes on, they are fed by their mothers or nearest female relation by themselves, and on no account will they touch their food with their own hands. They are at this time also careful not to touch their heads with their hands, and keep a small stick to scratch their heads with. They remain outside the lodge, all the time they are in this state, in a hut made for the purpose. During all this period they wear a skull-cap made of skin to fit very tight; this is never taken off until their first monthly sickness ceases; they also wear a strip of black paint about one inch wide across their eyes, and wear a fringe of shells, bones, etc., hanging down from their foreheads to below their eyes; and this is never taken off [pg 048] till the second monthly period arrives and ceases, when the nearest male relative makes a feast; after which she is considered a fully matured woman; but she has to refrain from eating anything fresh for one year after her first monthly sickness; she may however eat partridge, but it must be cooked in the crop of the bird to render it harmless. I would have thought it impossible to perform this feat had I not seen it done. The crop is blown out, and a small bent willow put round the mouth; it is then filled with water, and the meat being first minced up, put in also, then put on the fire and boiled till cooked. Their reason for hanging fringes before their eyes, is to hinder any bad medicine man from harming them during this critical period: they are very careful not to drink whilst facing a medicine man, and do so only when their backs are turned to him. All these habits are left off when the girl is a recognised woman, with the exception of their going out of the lodge and remaining in a hut, every time their periodical sickness comes on. This is a rigidly observed law with both single and married women.”120

Among the Tinneh Indians around Stuart Lake, Babine Lake, and Fraser Lake in British Columbia, "girls approaching maturity, meaning when their breasts start to develop, take swan feathers mixed with human hair and braid bands, which they tie around their wrists and ankles for long life. During this time, they make sure that the dishes they eat from are not used by anyone else and are solely for their own use; they eat nothing but dog fish, and only starvation will force them to eat fresh fish or meat. When their first menstrual cycle begins, they are fed by their mothers or closest female relatives, and they won't touch their food with their own hands. They also avoid touching their heads with their hands and keep a small stick to scratch their heads. They stay outside the lodge while in this state, in a hut made specifically for this purpose. Throughout this period, they wear a tight-fitting skull-cap made of skin, which is not removed until their first monthly cycle ends; they also wear a one-inch wide strip of black paint across their eyes and have a fringe of shells and bones hanging from their foreheads to below their eyes; this is not taken off until the second monthly cycle arrives and ends, after which a nearest male relative holds a feast; at this point, she is considered a fully matured woman; however, she must avoid eating anything fresh for a year after her first menstrual cycle, though she can eat partridge if it's cooked in the bird's crop to make it safe. I would have thought it impossible to do this if I hadn't seen it myself. The crop is inflated, and a small bent willow is placed around the opening; it's then filled with water, along with minced meat, and boiled until cooked. They wear fringes before their eyes to protect them from any harm a bad medicine man might cause during this critical time; they are very careful not to drink while facing a medicine man and only do so when their backs are turned to him. All these practices are abandoned when the girl is recognized as a woman, except for going out of the lodge and staying in a hut each time her menstrual cycle occurs. This is strictly observed by both single and married women."

Isolation of girls during puberty among the Tinneh Indians of Alaska.

Among the Hareskin Tinneh a girl at puberty was secluded for five days in a hut made specially for the purpose; she might only drink out of a tube made from a swan's bone, and for a month she might not break a hare's bones, nor taste blood, nor eat the heart or fat of animals, nor birds' eggs.121 Among the Tinneh Indians of the middle Yukon valley, in Alaska, the period of the girl's seclusion lasts exactly a lunar month; for the day of the moon on which the symptoms first occur is noted, and she is sequestered until the same day of the next moon. If the season is winter, a corner of the house is curtained off for her use by a blanket or a sheet of canvas; if it is summer, a small tent is erected for her near the common one. Here she lives and sleeps. She wears a long robe and a large [pg 049] hood, which she must pull down over her eyes whenever she leaves the hut, and she must keep it down till she returns. She may not speak to a man nor see his face, much less touch his clothes or anything that belongs to him; for if she did so, though no harm would come to her, he would grow unmanly. She has her own dishes for eating out of and may use no other; at Kaltag she must suck the water through a swan's bone without applying her lips to the cup. She may eat no fresh meat or fish except the flesh of the porcupine. She may not undress, but sleeps with all her clothes on, even her mittens. In her socks she wears, next to the skin, the horny soles cut from the feet of a porcupine, in order that for the rest of her life her shoes may never wear out. Round her waist she wears a cord to which are tied the heads of femurs of a porcupine; because of all animals known to the Tinneh the porcupine suffers least in parturition, it simply drops its young and continues to walk or skip about as if nothing had happened. Hence it is easy to see that a girl who wears these portions of a porcupine about her waist, will be delivered just as easily as the animal. To make quite sure of this, if anybody happens to kill a porcupine big with young while the girl is undergoing her period of separation, the foetus is given to her, and she lets it slide down between her shirt and her body so as to fall on the ground like an infant.122 Here the imitation of childbirth is a piece of homoeopathic or imitative magic designed to facilitate the effect which it simulates.123

Among the Hareskin Tinneh, a girl going through puberty is isolated for five days in a specially built hut. She can only drink from a tube made from a swan's bone, and for a month, she cannot break a hare's bones, taste blood, eat the heart or fat of animals, or consume bird eggs. Among the Tinneh Indians of the middle Yukon valley in Alaska, the girl’s isolation lasts exactly one lunar month; the day she first shows signs is noted, and she remains secluded until the same day of the next moon. In winter, a corner of the house is separated for her use with a blanket or a canvas sheet; in summer, a small tent is set up close to the main one. She lives and sleeps here, wearing a long robe and a large hood that she must pull down over her eyes whenever she leaves the hut, keeping it down until she returns. She is not allowed to speak to a man or see his face, let alone touch his clothing or anything he owns; if she does, even though no harm would come to her, he would become less masculine. She has her own dishes for eating and cannot use any others; in Kaltag, she must sip water through a swan's bone without touching her lips to the cup. She may only eat porcupine meat and cannot undress, sleeping in all her clothes, including her mittens. Inside her socks, she wears the tough soles cut from a porcupine’s feet so that her shoes will never wear out for the rest of her life. Around her waist, she wears a cord with porcupine femur heads tied to it; because, of all animals known to the Tinneh, the porcupine experiences the least suffering during childbirth, simply dropping its young and continuing to move around as if nothing has happened. It is clear that by wearing these porcupine parts, a girl will have an easy childbirth like the animal. To ensure this, if someone happens to kill a pregnant porcupine while the girl is in her period of isolation, the fetus is given to her, and she lets it slide between her shirt and her body, allowing it to fall to the ground like a newborn. Here, the mimicry of childbirth is a type of homeopathic or imitative magic intended to ease the process it represents.

The isolation of girls at puberty among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia.

Among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia, when a girl attained puberty, she was at once separated from all the people. A conical hut of fir branches and bark was erected at some little distance from the other houses, and in it the girl had to squat on her heels during the day. Often a deep circular hole was dug in the hut and the girl squatted in the hole, with her head projecting above the surface of the ground. She might quit the hut for various purposes in the early morning, but had always to be back at sunrise. On the first appearance of the symptoms her face was [pg 050] painted red all over, and the paint was renewed every morning during her term of seclusion. A heavy blanket swathed her body from top to toe, and during the first four days she wore a conical cap made of small fir branches, which reached below the breast but left an opening for the face. In her hair was fastened an implement made of deer-bone with which she scratched herself. For the first four days she might neither wash nor eat, but a little water was given her in a birch-bark cup painted red, and she sucked up the liquid through a tube made out of the leg of a crane, a swan, or a goose, for her lips might not touch the surface of the water. After the four days she was allowed, during the rest of the period of isolation, to eat, to wash, to lie down, to comb her hair, and to drink of streams and springs. But in drinking at these sources she had still to use her tube, otherwise the spring would dry up. While her seclusion lasted she performed by night various ceremonies, which were supposed to exert a beneficial influence on her future life. For example, she ran as fast as she could, praying at the same time to the Earth or Nature that she might be fleet of foot and tireless of limb. She dug trenches, in order that in after life she might be able to dig well and to work hard. These and other ceremonies she repeated for four nights or mornings in succession, four times each morning, and each time she supplicated the Dawn of the Day. Among the Lower Thompson Indians she carried a staff for one night; and when the day was breaking she leaned the staff against the stump of a tree and prayed to the Dawn that she might be blessed with a good husband, who was symbolized by the staff. She also wandered some nights to lonely parts of the mountains, where she would dance, imploring the spirits to pity and protect her during her future life; then, the dance and prayer over, she would lie down on the spot and fall asleep. Again, she carried four stones in her bosom to a spring, where she spat upon the stones and threw them one after the other into the water, praying that all disease might leave her, as these stones did. Also she ran four times in the early morning with two small stones in her bosom; and as she ran the stones slipped down between her bare body and her clothes and fell to the [pg 051] ground. At the same time she prayed to the Dawn that when she should be with child, she might be delivered as easily as she was delivered of these stones. But whatever exercises she performed or prayers she offered on the lonely mountains during the hours of darkness or while the morning light was growing in the east, she must always be back in her little hut before the sun rose. There she often passed the tedious hours away picking the needles, one by one, from the cones on two large branches of fir, which hung from the roof of her hut on purpose to provide her with occupation. And as she picked she prayed to the fir-branch that she might never be lazy, but always quick and active at work. During her seclusion, too, she had to make miniatures of all the articles that Indian women make, or used to make, such as baskets, mats, ropes, and thread. This she did in order that afterwards she might be able to make the real things properly. Four large fir-branches also were placed in front of the hut, so that when she went out or in, she had to step over them. The branches were renewed every morning and the old ones thrown away into the water, while the girl prayed, “May I never bewitch any man, nor my fellow-women! May it never happen!” The first four times that she went out and in, she prayed to the fir-branches, saying, “If ever I step into trouble or difficulties or step unknowingly inside the magical spell of some person, may you help me, O Fir-branches, with your power!” Every day she painted her face afresh, and she wore strings of parts of deer-hoofs round her ankles and knees, and tied to her waistband on either side, which rattled when she walked or ran. Even the shape of the hut in which she lived was adapted to her future rather than to her present needs and wishes. If she wished to be tall, the hut was tall; if she wished to be short, it was low, sometimes so low that there was not room in it for her to stand erect, and she would lay the palm of her hand on the top of her head and pray to the Dawn that she might grow no taller. Her seclusion lasted four months. The Indians say that long ago it extended over a year, and that fourteen days elapsed before the girl was permitted to wash for the first time. The dress which she wore during her time of separation was [pg 052] afterwards taken to the top of a hill and burned, and the rest of her clothes were hung up on trees.124

Among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia, when a girl reached puberty, she was immediately separated from everyone. A conical hut made of fir branches and bark was built a short distance from the other houses, where the girl had to squat on her heels during the day. Often, a deep circular hole was dug in the hut for her to sit in, her head sticking out above the ground. She could leave the hut for various reasons in the early morning, but had to be back by sunrise. At the first signs of puberty, her face was painted bright red all over, and the paint was refreshed every morning during her time of isolation. A heavy blanket wrapped around her body completely, and for the first four days, she wore a conical cap made of small fir branches that reached below her breasts but left her face exposed. In her hair, she had an implement made from deer bone for scratching herself. For the first four days, she couldn’t wash or eat, but she was given a little water in a red-painted birch-bark cup, which she drank through a tube made from a crane, swan, or goose leg, as her lips couldn't touch the water's surface. After those four days, she could eat, wash, lie down, comb her hair, and drink from streams and springs. However, she still had to use her tube when drinking, or the spring would dry up. While she was secluded, she performed various ceremonies at night that were believed to have a positive impact on her future. For instance, she ran as fast as she could while praying to the Earth or Nature to make her swift and tireless. She dug trenches so that she could be skilled at working hard in the future. She repeated these and other ceremonies for four nights or mornings in a row, four times each morning, always praying to the Dawn. Among the Lower Thompson Indians, she carried a staff for one night; when dawn approached, she leaned the staff against a tree stump and prayed to the Dawn for a good husband symbolized by the staff. She also ventured to secluded areas of the mountains some nights to dance, asking the spirits to watch over her in her future life; after dancing and praying, she would lie down on the ground and fall asleep. Additionally, she took four stones in her clothing to a spring, where she spat on the stones and tossed them into the water, praying for all illness to leave her like those stones. She also ran four times early in the morning with two small stones in her clothes, and as she ran, the stones slipped down between her bare skin and clothing, falling to the ground. At the same time, she prayed to the Dawn that she would have an easy delivery when she was pregnant, just like giving birth to those stones. No matter what activities she did or prayers she offered on a lonely mountain during the night or as the morning light broke in the east, she always had to be back in her little hut before sunrise. There, she often passed the long hours picking needles off two large fir branches that hung from the roof of her hut, which were there for her to have something to do. As she picked, she prayed to the fir branch that she would never be lazy and would always be quick and active in her work. During her isolation, she also had to create miniatures of all the things that Indian women made or used to make, like baskets, mats, ropes, and thread. This was so that later, she could make the real items properly. Four large fir branches were placed in front of the hut, so she had to step over them each time she went in or out. The branches were replaced every morning, and the old ones were thrown into the water as she prayed, "May I never charm any man or my fellow women! May it never happen!" The first four times she went in and out, she prayed to the fir branches, saying, "If I ever find myself in trouble or face difficulties, or unknowingly fall under someone’s magical spell, may you help me, O Fir-branches, with your strength!" Every day, she repainted her face, wore strings of parts of deer hooves around her ankles and knees, and had them tied to her waistband on both sides, which rattled as she walked or ran. Even the shape of the hut she lived in was designed for her future rather than her present needs and desires. If she wanted to be tall, the hut was tall; if she wanted to be short, it was low—sometimes so low that she couldn’t stand up straight and would press her palm on the top of her head, praying to the Dawn that she wouldn’t grow any taller. Her isolation lasted four months. The Indians say that long ago it lasted over a year, and that fourteen days passed before the girl was allowed to wash for the first time. The clothing she wore during her separation was [pg 052] eventually taken to the top of a hill and burned, and the rest of her clothes were hung on trees.124

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Lillooet Indians of British Columbia.

Among the Lillooet Indians of British Columbia, neighbours of the Thompsons, the customs observed by girls at puberty were similar. The damsels were secluded for a period of not less than one year nor more than four years, according to their own inclination and the wishes of their parents. Among the Upper Lillooets the hut in which the girl lodged was made of bushy fir-trees set up like a conical tent, the inner branches being lopped off, while the outer branches were closely interwoven and padded to form a roof. Every month or half-month the hut was shifted to another site or a new one erected. By day the girl sat in the hut; for the first month she squatted in a hole dug in the middle of it; and she passed the time making miniature baskets of birch-bark and other things, praying that she might be able to make the real things well in after years. At the dusk of the evening she left the hut and wandered about all night, but she returned before the sun rose. Before she quitted the hut at nightfall to roam abroad, she painted her face red and put on a mask of fir-branches, and in her hand, as she walked, she carried a basket-rattle to frighten ghosts and guard herself from evil. Among the Lower Lillooets, the girl's mask was often made of goat-skin, covering her head, neck, shoulders and breast, and leaving only a narrow opening from the brow to the chin. During the nocturnal hours she performed many ceremonies. Thus she put two smooth stones in her bosom and ran, and as they fell down between her body and her clothes, she prayed, saying, “May I always have easy child-births!” Now one of these stones represented her future child and the other represented the afterbirth. Also she dug trenches, praying that in the years to come she might be strong and tireless in digging roots; she picked leaves and needles from the fir-trees, praying that her fingers might be nimble in picking berries; and she tore sheets of birch-bark into [pg 053] shreds, dropping the shreds as she walked and asking that her hands might never tire and that she might make neat and fine work of birch-bark. Moreover, she ran and walked much that she might be light of foot. And every evening, when the shadows were falling, and every morning, when the day was breaking, she prayed to the Dusk of the Evening or to the Dawn of Day, saying, “O Dawn of Day!” or “O Dusk,” as it might be, “may I be able to dig roots fast and easily, and may I always find plenty!” All her prayers were addressed to the Dusk of the Evening or the Dawn of Day. She supplicated both, asking for long life, health, wealth, and happiness.125

Among the Lillooet people of British Columbia, who are neighbors of the Thompsons, the customs observed by girls during puberty were quite similar. The young women were secluded for a period ranging from about one year to four years, depending on their preferences and their parents' wishes. In Upper Lillooet culture, the hut where the girl stayed was constructed from bushy fir trees arranged like a conical tent, with the inner branches trimmed while the outer branches were closely woven and padded to create a roof. Every month or every couple of weeks, the hut would be relocated, or a new one would be built. During the day, the girl would sit inside the hut; for the first month, she squatted in a hole dug in the center, passing the time making small baskets out of birch bark and other items, praying that she would be able to create the real things well in the future. At dusk, she would leave the hut and wander all night, returning before sunrise. Before she left the hut at night to explore, she painted her face red, donned a mask made of fir branches, and carried a basket-rattle in her hand to scare off ghosts and protect herself from harm. Among the Lower Lillooets, the girl's mask was often made from goat skin, covering her head, neck, shoulders, and breast, leaving only a narrow space from her brow to her chin. During the night, she performed various ceremonies. For instance, she would place two smooth stones in her bosom and run, and as they slipped down between her body and clothing, she prayed, saying, "May I always have smooth deliveries!" One stone represented her future child and the other represented the afterbirth. She also dug trenches, praying that she would be strong and tireless in gathering roots in the future; she picked leaves and needles from the fir trees, praying that her fingers would be agile when picking berries; and she tore sheets of birch bark into [pg 053] shreds, dropping the shreds as she walked and asking that her hands would never tire and that she could create finely crafted birch bark items. Additionally, she would run and walk a lot to stay light on her feet. Every evening, as the shadows fell, and every morning, as the day began, she prayed to the Dusk of the Evening or the Dawn of Day, saying, “O Dawn of a New Day!” or "O Dusk," depending on the time, "May I be able to dig roots quickly and easily, and may I always find enough!" All her prayers were directed to the Dusk of the Evening or the Dawn of Day. She appealed to both, asking for long life, health, wealth, and happiness.125

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Shuswap Indians of British Columbia.

Among the Shuswap Indians of British Columbia, who are neighbours of the Thompsons and Lillooets, “a girl on reaching maturity has to go through a great number of ceremonies. She must leave the village and live alone in a small hut on the mountains. She cooks her own food, and must not eat anything that bleeds. She is forbidden to touch her head, for which purpose she uses a comb with three points. Neither is she allowed to scratch her body, except with a painted deer-bone. She wears the bone and the comb suspended from her belt. She drinks out of a painted cup of birch-bark, and neither more nor less than the quantity it holds. Every night she walks about her hut, and plants willow twigs, which she has painted, and to the ends of which she has attached pieces of cloth, into the ground. It is believed that thus she will become rich in later life. In order to become strong she should climb trees and try to break off their points. She plays with lehal sticks that her future husbands might have good luck when gambling.”126 During the day the girl stays in her hut and occupies herself in making miniature bags, mats, and baskets, in sewing and embroidery, in manufacturing thread, twine, and so forth; in short she makes a beginning of all kinds of [pg 054] woman's work, in order that she may be a good housewife in after life. By night she roams the mountains and practises running, climbing, carrying burdens, and digging trenches, so that she may be expert at digging roots. If she has wandered far and daylight overtakes her, she hides herself behind a veil of fir branches; for no one, except her instructor or nearest relatives, should see her face during her period of seclusion. She wore a large robe painted red on the breast and sides, and her hair was done up in a knot at each ear.127

Among the Shuswap Indians of British Columbia, who live near the Thompsons and Lillooets, "When a girl reaches adulthood, she has to go through several ceremonies. She must leave the village and live alone in a small hut in the mountains. She prepares her own meals and can't eat anything that comes from an animal. She's not allowed to touch her head, so she uses a three-pronged comb for that. She also cannot scratch her body, except with a painted deer bone. She keeps the bone and the comb attached to her belt. She drinks from a painted birch-bark cup and must drink exactly what it holds. Every night, she walks around her hut and plants painted willow twigs with pieces of cloth tied to the ends into the ground. It’s believed that this will bring her wealth later in life. To gain strength, she should climb trees and try to break off their tips. She plays with lehal sticks to bring good luck to her future husbands when they gamble."126 During the day, the girl stays in her hut and keeps busy making small bags, mats, and baskets, sewing and embroidering, making thread, twine, and other things; in short, she begins all kinds of [pg 054] women’s work so that she can be a good housewife later on. At night, she roams the mountains to practice running, climbing, carrying loads, and digging trenches, so she can get good at digging roots. If she wanders too far and daylight catches up to her, she hides behind a screen of fir branches because no one, except her instructor or close relatives, is allowed to see her face during her time of seclusion. She wears a large robe painted red on the chest and sides, and her hair is styled in a knot at each ear.127

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Delaware and Cheyenne Indians.

Ceremonies of the same general type were probably observed by girls at puberty among all the Indian tribes of North America. But the record of them is far less full for the Central and Eastern tribes, perhaps because the settlers who first came into contact with the Red Man in these regions were too busy fighting him to find leisure, even if they had the desire, to study his manners and customs. However, among the Delaware Indians, a tribe in the extreme east of the continent, we read that “when a Delaware girl has her first monthly period, she must withdraw into a hut at some distance from the village. Her head is wrapped up for twelve days, so that she can see nobody, and she must submit to frequent vomits and fasting, and abstain from all labor. After this she is washed and new clothed, but confined to a solitary life for two months, at the close of which she is declared marriageable.”128 Again, among the Cheyennes, an Indian tribe of the Missouri valley, a girl at her first menstruation is painted red all over her body and secluded in a special little lodge for four days. However, she may remain in her father's lodge provided that there are no charms (“medicine”), no sacred bundle, and no shield in it, or that these and all other objects invested with a sacred character have been removed. For four days she may not eat boiled meat; the flesh of which she partakes must be roasted over coals. Young men will not eat from the dish nor drink from the pot, which has been used by her; because [pg 055] they believe that were they to do so they would be wounded in the next fight. She may not handle nor even touch any weapon of war or any sacred object. If the camp moves, she may not ride a horse, but is mounted on a mare.129

Ceremonies of a similar nature were likely practiced by girls during puberty in all the Indian tribes of North America. However, the documentation of these rites is much less extensive for the Central and Eastern tribes, possibly because the settlers who first interacted with the Native Americans in these areas were too preoccupied with conflict to take the time, even if they were interested, to observe their customs and traditions. Among the Delaware Indians, a tribe located in the far east of the continent, it is noted that When a girl from Delaware gets her first period, she has to go into a hut away from the village. Her head is wrapped for twelve days, so she can't see anyone, and she must deal with frequent vomiting, fasting, and avoid all work. After that, she is washed and given new clothes, but she has to live in isolation for two months, after which she's seen as eligible for marriage.128 Similarly, among the Cheyennes, a tribe from the Missouri valley, a girl experiences her first menstruation by being painted red all over her body and staying in a special little lodge for four days. She can stay in her father's lodge as long as there are no charms (“healthcare”), no sacred bundle, and no shield inside, or if these and all other sacred items have been removed. For four days, she cannot eat boiled meat; any meat she consumes must be roasted over coals. Young men will not eat from or drink from any dish or pot she has used, as [pg 055] they believe doing so would lead to injury in the next battle. She is not allowed to touch any weapons or sacred objects. If the camp relocates, she cannot ride a horse, but must be mounted on a mare.129

Seclusion of girls at puberty among the Eskimos.

Among the Esquimaux also, in the extreme north of the continent, who belong to an entirely different race from the Indians, the attainment of puberty in the female sex is, or used to be, the occasion of similar observances. Thus among the Koniags, an Esquimau people of Alaska, a girl at puberty was placed in a small hut in which she had to remain on her hands and knees for six months; then the hut was enlarged a little so as to allow her to straighten her back, but in this posture she had to remain for six months more. All this time she was regarded as an unclean being with whom no one might hold intercourse. At the end of the year she was received back by her parents and a great feast held.130 Again, among the Malemut, and southward from the lower Yukon and adjacent districts, when a girl reaches the age of puberty she is considered unclean for forty days and must therefore live by herself in a corner of the house with her face to the wall, always keeping her hood over her head and her hair hanging dishevelled over her eyes. But if it is summer, she commonly lives in a rough shelter outside the house. She may not go out by day, and only once at night, when every one else is asleep. At the end of the period she bathes and is clothed in new garments, whereupon she may be taken in marriage. During her seclusion she is supposed to be enveloped in a peculiar atmosphere of such a sort that were a young man to come near enough for it to touch him, it would render him visible to every animal he might hunt, so that his luck as a hunter would be gone.131

Among the Eskimos in the far north of the continent, who belong to an entirely different race than the Indigenous peoples, the arrival of puberty for girls is or was marked by similar rituals. For instance, among the Koniags, an Eskimo group in Alaska, a girl at puberty was placed in a small hut where she had to stay on her hands and knees for six months; then the hut was made a bit larger so she could straighten her back, but she had to remain in that position for another six months. During this entire time, she was considered unclean and was not allowed to interact with anyone. At the end of the year, she was welcomed back by her parents with a large feast. Similarly, among the Malemut, located south of the lower Yukon and nearby areas, when a girl reaches puberty, she is considered unclean for forty days and must live alone in a corner of the house facing the wall, always with her hood over her head and her hair messy over her eyes. In summer, she usually stays in a rough shelter outside. She cannot go out during the day and only can once at night when everyone else is asleep. After the forty days, she bathes and puts on new clothes, and then she is eligible for marriage. During her seclusion, she is believed to be surrounded by a unique aura such that if a young man were to get too close, it would make him visible to any animal he might hunt, ruining his chances as a hunter.

[pg 056]

§ 5. Isolation of Girls During Puberty among the Indigenous Peoples of South America.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Guaranis, Chiriguanos, and Lengua Indians of South America.

When symptoms of puberty appeared on a girl for the first time, the Guaranis of Southern Brazil, on the borders of Paraguay, used to sew her up in her hammock, leaving only a small opening in it to allow her to breathe. In this condition, wrapt up and shrouded like a corpse, she was kept for two or three days or so long as the symptoms lasted, and during this time she had to observe a most rigorous fast. After that she was entrusted to a matron, who cut the girl's hair and enjoined her to abstain most strictly from eating flesh of any kind until her hair should be grown long enough to hide her ears. Meanwhile the diviners drew omens of her future character from the various birds or animals that flew past or crossed her path. If they saw a parrot, they would say she was a chatterbox; if an owl, she was lazy and useless for domestic labours, and so on.132 In similar circumstances the Chiriguanos of south-eastern Bolivia hoisted the girl in her hammock to the roof, where she stayed for a month: the second month the hammock was let half-way down from the roof; and in the third month old women, armed with sticks, entered the hut and ran about striking everything they met, saying they were hunting the snake that had wounded the girl.133 The Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco under similar circumstances hang the girl in her hammock from the roof of the house, but they leave her there only three days and nights, during which they give her nothing to eat but a little Paraguay tea or boiled maize. Only her mother or grandmother has access to her; nobody else approaches or speaks to her. If she is obliged to leave the hammock for a little, [pg 057] her friends take great care to prevent her from touching the Boyrusu, which is an imaginary serpent that would swallow her up. She must also be very careful not to set foot on the droppings of fowls or animals, else she would suffer from sores on the throat and breast. On the third day they let her down from the hammock, cut her hair, and make her sit in a corner of the room with her face turned to the wall. She may speak to nobody, and must abstain from flesh and fish. These rigorous observances she must practise for nearly a year. Many girls die or are injured for life in consequence of the hardships they endure at this time. Their only occupations during their seclusion are spinning and weaving.134

When a girl first shows signs of puberty, the Guaranis of Southern Brazil, near Paraguay, used to wrap her up in her hammock, leaving just a small opening for her to breathe. In this state, bundled up and covered like a corpse, she would remain for two or three days or as long as the symptoms lasted, during which she had to follow a strict fasting regimen. After that, she was handed over to a matron, who cut her hair and instructed her to avoid all kinds of meat until her hair grew long enough to cover her ears. Meanwhile, diviners would interpret omens about her future personality based on the birds or animals that passed by her. If they saw a parrot, they would say she would be chatty; if an owl, they would declare she was lazy and unfit for household chores, and so on. In similar situations, the Chiriguanos of southeastern Bolivia would lift the girl in her hammock to the roof, where she would stay for a month. In the second month, the hammock would be lowered halfway, and in the third month, older women armed with sticks would enter the hut, running around and striking everything in sight, claiming they were hunting the snake that had harmed the girl. The Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco, in similar cases, hang the girl in her hammock from the roof of the house, but she stays there for only three days and nights, during which she is given only a bit of Paraguay tea or boiled maize. Only her mother or grandmother is allowed to see her; no one else is permitted to approach or speak to her. If she has to get out of the hammock for any reason, her friends make sure she doesn't touch the Boyrusu, an imaginary serpent that would swallow her. She also needs to avoid stepping on the droppings of birds or animals, as that could cause sores on her throat and chest. On the third day, they lower her from the hammock, cut her hair, and make her sit in a corner of the room facing the wall. She can't speak to anyone and must stay away from meat and fish. She has to follow these strict rules for nearly a year. Many girls end up dying or suffering life-altering injuries due to the hardships they face during this time. Their only activities while secluded are spinning and weaving.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Yuracares in Bolivia.

Among the Yuracares, an Indian tribe of Bolivia, at the eastern foot of the Andes, when a girl perceives the signs of puberty, she informs her parents. The mother weeps and the father constructs a little hut of palm leaves near the house. In this cabin he shuts up his daughter so that she cannot see the light, and there she remains fasting rigorously for four days. Meantime the mother, assisted by the women of the neighbourhood, has brewed a large quantity of the native intoxicant called chicha, and poured it into wooden troughs and palm leaves. On the morning of the fourth day, three hours before the dawn, the girl's father, having arrayed himself in his savage finery, summons all his neighbours with loud cries. The damsel is seated on a stone, and every guest in turn cuts off a lock of her hair, and running away hides it in the hollow trunk of a tree in the depths of the forest. When they have all done so and seated themselves again gravely in the circle, the girl offers [pg 058] to each of them a calabash full of very strong chicha. Before the wassailing begins, the various fathers perform a curious operation on the arms of their sons, who are seated beside them. The operator takes a very sharp bone of an ape, rubs it with a pungent spice, and then pinching up the skin of his son's arm he pierces it with the bone through and through, as a surgeon might introduce a seton. This operation he repeats till the young man's arm is riddled with holes at regular intervals from the shoulder to the wrist. Almost all who take part in the festival are covered with these wounds, which the Indians call culucute. Having thus prepared themselves to spend a happy day, they drink, play on flutes, sing and dance till evening. Rain, thunder, and lightning, should they befall, have no effect in damping the general enjoyment or preventing its continuance till after the sun has set. The motive for perforating the arms of the young men is to make them skilful hunters; at each perforation the sufferer is cheered by the promise of another sort of game or fish which the surgical operation will infallibly procure for him. The same operation is performed on the arms and legs of the girls, in order that they may be brave and strong; even the dogs are operated on with the intention of making them run down the game better. For five or six months afterwards the damsel must cover her head with bark and refrain from speaking to men. The Yuracares think that if they did not submit a young girl to this severe ordeal, her children would afterwards perish by accidents of various kinds, such as the sting of a serpent, the bite of a jaguar, the fall of a tree, the wound of an arrow, or what not.135

Among the Yuracares, an Indigenous tribe in Bolivia at the eastern foot of the Andes, when a girl notices signs of puberty, she tells her parents. The mother cries, and the father builds a small hut made of palm leaves near their home. He locks his daughter inside so she can’t see the light, and she stays there fasting rigorously for four days. Meanwhile, the mother, with help from the neighborhood women, prepares a large amount of the local alcoholic drink called chicha, pouring it into wooden troughs and palm leaves. On the morning of the fourth day, three hours before dawn, the girl’s father, dressed in his traditional attire, calls all his neighbors with loud shouts. The girl sits on a stone, and each guest takes turns cutting off a lock of her hair and hiding it in a hollow tree trunk deep in the forest. Once everyone has done this and sits back down in a serious circle, the girl offers each of them a calabash full of very strong chicha. Before the celebrations begin, the fathers perform a strange procedure on their sons' arms, who sit beside them. The performer takes a sharp bone from an ape, rubs it with a strong spice, and then pinching the skin of his son's arm, pierces it through and through, like a surgeon inserting a seton. He repeats this until the young man's arm is full of holes at regular intervals from shoulder to wrist. Almost everyone involved in the festival has these wounds, which the Indians call culucute. After preparing themselves for a joyful day, they drink, play flutes, sing, and dance until evening. Rain, thunder, and lightning don’t dampen their spirits or stop the fun until after sunset. The purpose of piercing the young men's arms is to make them skilled hunters; with each hole, the sufferer is encouraged by the promise of different types of game or fish that the procedure will help him catch. The same procedure is done on the arms and legs of the girls so they can be strong and brave; even the dogs are treated this way to improve their hunting abilities. For five or six months afterward, the girl must cover her head with bark and avoid talking to men. The Yuracares believe that if they don’t put a young girl through this tough trial, her children may face various accidents, like snake bites, jaguar attacks, falling trees, or arrow wounds. 135

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Indigenous people of the Gran Chaco and Brazil.

Among the Matacos or Mataguayos, an Indian tribe of the Gran Chaco, a girl at puberty has to remain in seclusion for some time. She lies covered up with branches or other things in a corner of the hut, seeing no one and speaking to no one, and during this time she may eat neither flesh nor fish. Meantime a man beats a drum in front of the house.136 [pg 059] Similarly among the Tobas, another Indian tribe of the same region, when a chief's daughter has just attained to womanhood, she is shut up for two or three days in the house, all the men of the tribe scour the country to bring in game and fish for a feast, and a Mataco Indian is engaged to drum, sing, and dance in front of the house without cessation, day and night, till the festival is over. As the merrymaking lasts for two or three weeks, the exhaustion of the musician at the end of it may be readily conceived. Meat and drink are supplied to him on the spot where he pays his laborious court to the Muses. The proceedings wind up with a saturnalia and a drunken debauch.137 Among the Yaguas, an Indian tribe of the Upper Amazon, a girl at puberty is shut up for three months in a lonely hut in the forest, where her mother brings her food daily.138 When a girl of the Peguenches tribe perceives in herself the first signs of womanhood, she is secluded by her mother in a corner of the hut screened off with blankets, and is warned not to lift up her eyes on any man. Next day, very early in the morning and again after sunset, she is taken out by two women and made to run till she is tired; in the interval she is again secluded in her corner. On the following day she lays three packets of wool beside the path near the house to signify that she is now a woman.139 Among the Passes, Mauhes, and other tribes of Brazil the young woman in similar circumstances is hung in her hammock from the roof and has to fast there for a month or as long as she can hold out.140 One of the early settlers in Brazil, about the middle of the sixteenth century, has described the severe ordeal which damsels at puberty had to undergo among the Indians on the south-east coast of that country, near what is now Rio de Janeiro. When a girl had reached this critical period of life, her hair was burned or shaved off close to the head. [pg 060] Then she was placed on a flat stone and cut with the tooth of an animal from the shoulders all down the back, till she ran with blood. Next the ashes of a wild gourd were rubbed into the wounds; the girl was bound hand and foot, and hung in a hammock, being enveloped in it so closely that no one could see her. Here she had to stay for three days without eating or drinking. When the three days were over, she stepped out of the hammock upon the flat stone, for her feet might not touch the ground. If she had a call of nature, a female relation took the girl on her back and carried her out, taking with her a live coal to prevent evil influences from entering the girl's body. Being replaced in her hammock, she was now allowed to get some flour, boiled roots, and water, but might not taste salt or flesh. Thus she continued to the end of the first monthly period, at the expiry of which she was gashed on the breast and belly as well as all down the back. During the second month she still stayed in her hammock, but her rule of abstinence was less rigid, and she was allowed to spin. The third month she was blackened with a certain pigment and began to go about as usual.141

Among the Matacos or Mataguayos, an Indigenous tribe from the Gran Chaco, a girl going through puberty must stay in seclusion for a period. She lies covered with branches or other materials in a corner of the hut, seeing and speaking to no one, and during this time she cannot eat meat or fish. Meanwhile, a man plays a drum outside the house.136 [pg 059] Similarly, among the Tobas, another Indigenous tribe in the same area, when a chief's daughter reaches womanhood, she is confined in the house for two or three days. All the men in the tribe go out to hunt and catch fish for a feast, and a Mataco Indian is hired to drum, sing, and dance in front of the house continuously, day and night, until the festival concludes. Since the celebrations last for two or three weeks, it's easy to imagine how exhausted the musician is by the end. He is provided with food and drinks on-site as he entertains. The festivities culminate in revelry and a drunken binge.137 Among the Yaguas, an Indigenous group from the Upper Amazon, a girl at puberty is isolated for three months in a secluded hut in the forest, where her mother brings her food daily.138 When a girl from the Peguenches tribe notices the first signs of womanhood, her mother confines her to a corner of the hut, separated by blankets, and advises her not to look at any man. The following day, very early in the morning and again after sunset, two women take her out to run until she is exhausted; in between these sessions, she is secluded again. The next day, she places three bundles of wool beside the path near the house to indicate that she is now a woman.139 Among the Passes, Mauhes, and other tribes of Brazil, a young woman in similar circumstances is hung in her hammock from the ceiling and must fast there for a month or until she can endure it.140 One of the early settlers in Brazil, around the mid-16th century, described the harsh initiation rituals that girls going through puberty faced among the Indigenous people along the south-east coast near present-day Rio de Janeiro. When a girl reached this critical life stage, her hair was burned or shaved off close to her head. [pg 060] Then she was laid on a flat stone and cut with an animal tooth from her shoulders down her back until she bled. Next, the ashes from a wild gourd were rubbed into the wounds; the girl was bound hand and foot and hung in a hammock, wrapped tightly so no one could see her. She had to stay there for three days without eating or drinking. Once the three days were over, she stepped out of the hammock onto the flat stone, as her feet could not touch the ground. If she needed to relieve herself, a female relative would carry her out on her back, bringing a live coal to ward off any evil influences. After being placed back in her hammock, she was allowed to have some flour, boiled roots, and water, but she could not eat salt or meat. She continued this way until the end of the first monthly period, after which she was cut on the breast and belly as well as down her back. During the second month, she remained in her hammock, but her restrictions were less strict, and she was allowed to spin. By the third month, she was painted with a certain pigment and began to move around as usual.141

Isolation of girls during puberty among the Indigenous people of Guiana. The practice of beating the girls and having them stung by ants.

Amongst the Macusis of British Guiana, when a girl shews the first signs of puberty, she is hung in a hammock at the highest point of the hut. For the first few days she may not leave the hammock by day, but at night she must come down, light a fire, and spend the night beside it, else she would break out in sores on her neck, throat, and other parts of her body. So long as the symptoms are at their height, she must fast rigorously. When they have abated, she may come down and take up her abode in a little compartment that is made for her in the darkest corner of the hut. In the morning she may cook her food, but it must be at a separate fire and in a vessel of her own. After about ten days the magician comes and undoes the spell by muttering charms and breathing on her and on the more valuable of the things with which she has come in contact. [pg 061] The pots and drinking-vessels which she used are broken and the fragments buried. After her first bath, the girl must submit to be beaten by her mother with thin rods without uttering a cry. At the end of the second period she is again beaten, but not afterwards. She is now “clean,” and can mix again with people.142 Other Indians of Guiana, after keeping the girl in her hammock at the top of the hut for a month, expose her to certain large ants, whose bite is very painful.143 Sometimes, in addition to being stung with ants, the sufferer has to fast day and night so long as she remains slung up on high in her hammock, so that when she comes down she is reduced to a skeleton. The intention of stinging her with ants is said to be to make her strong to bear the burden of maternity.144 Amongst the Uaupes of Brazil a girl at puberty is secluded in the house for a month, and allowed only a small quantity of bread and water. Then she is taken out into the midst of her relations and friends, each of whom gives her four or five blows with pieces of sipo (an elastic climber), till she falls senseless or dead. If she recovers, the operation is repeated four times at intervals of six hours, and it is considered an offence to the parents not to strike hard. Meantime, pots of meats and fish have been made ready; the sipos are dipped into them and then given to the girl to lick, who is now considered a marriageable woman.145

Among the Macusis of British Guiana, when a girl shows the first signs of puberty, she is hung in a hammock at the highest point of the hut. For the first few days, she can’t leave the hammock during the day, but at night she must come down, light a fire, and spend the night by it, or else she would develop sores on her neck, throat, and other parts of her body. As long as the symptoms are at their peak, she has to fast strictly. When they lessen, she may come down and move into a small section made for her in the darkest corner of the hut. In the morning, she can cook her food, but it must be at a separate fire and in her own cooking pot. After about ten days, the magician comes and breaks the spell by muttering charms and breathing on her and on the more valuable items she has touched. [pg 061] The pots and drinking vessels she used are broken and the pieces buried. After her first bath, the girl must endure being beaten by her mother with thin rods without making a sound. At the end of the second period, she is beaten again, but not afterwards. She is now "clean" and can mix again with others.142 Other Indians of Guiana, after keeping the girl in her hammock at the top of the hut for a month, expose her to large ants that have a very painful bite.143 Sometimes, in addition to being stung by ants, the girl has to fast day and night as long as she remains suspended in her hammock, leaving her looking like a skeleton when she finally comes down. The purpose of stinging her with ants is said to make her strong enough to handle the responsibilities of motherhood.144 Among the Uaupes of Brazil, a girl at puberty is isolated in the house for a month, receiving only a small amount of bread and water. Then she is brought out in front of her relatives and friends, each of whom gives her four or five hits with pieces of sipo (an elastic vine), until she falls unconscious or dead. If she recovers, the process is repeated four times at six-hour intervals, and it's considered an insult to the parents if the strikes aren’t given with force. Meanwhile, pots of meat and fish have been prepared; the sipos are dipped into them and then given to the girl to lick, marking her as a marriageable woman.145

In South America, there is a tradition where young men are stung by ants as part of an initiation ceremony.

The custom of stinging the girl at such times with ants or beating her with rods is intended, we may be sure, not as a punishment or a test of endurance, but as a purification, the object being to drive away the malignant influences with which a girl in this condition is believed to be beset and enveloped. Examples of purification, by beating, by incisions in the flesh, and by [pg 062] stinging with ants, have already come before us.146 In some Indian tribes of Brazil and Guiana young men do not rank as warriors and may not marry till they have passed through a terrible ordeal, which consists in being stung by swarms of venomous ants whose bite is like fire. Thus among the Mauhes on the Tapajos river, a southern tributary of the Amazon, boys of eight to ten years are obliged to thrust their arms into sleeves stuffed with great ferocious ants, which the Indians call tocandeira (Cryptocerus atratus, F.). When the young victim shrieks with pain, an excited mob of men dances round him, shouting and encouraging him till he falls exhausted to the ground. He is then committed to the care of old women, who treat his fearfully swollen arms with fresh juice of the manioc; and on his recovery he has to shew his strength and skill in bending a bow. This cruel ordeal is commonly repeated again and again, till the lad has reached his fourteenth year and can bear the agony without betraying any sign of emotion. Then he is a man and can marry. A lad's age is reckoned by the number of times he has passed through the ordeal.147 An eye-witness has described how a young Mauhe hero bore the torture with an endurance more than Spartan, dancing and singing, with his arms cased in the terrible mittens, before every cabin of the great common house, till pallid, staggering, and with chattering teeth he triumphantly laid the gloves before the old chief and received the congratulations of the men and the caresses of the women; then breaking away from his friends and admirers he threw himself into the river and remained in its cool soothing water till nightfall.148 Similarly among the Ticunas of the Upper Amazon, on the border of Peru, the young man who would take his place among the [pg 063] warriors must plunge his arm into a sort of basket full of venomous ants and keep it there for several minutes without uttering a cry. He generally falls backwards and sometimes succumbs to the fever which ensues; hence as soon as the ordeal is over the women are prodigal of their attentions to him, and rub the swollen arm with a particular kind of herb.149 Ordeals of this sort appear to be in vogue among the Indians of the Rio Negro as well as of the Amazon.150 Among the Rucuyennes, a tribe of Indians in the north of Brazil, on the borders of Guiana, young men who are candidates for marriage must submit to be stung all over their persons not only with ants but with wasps, which are applied to their naked bodies in curious instruments of trellis-work shaped like fantastic quadrupeds or birds. The patient invariably falls down in a swoon and is carried like dead to his hammock, where he is tightly lashed with cords. As they come to themselves, they writhe in agony, so that their hammocks rock violently to and fro, causing the hut to shake as if it were about to collapse. This dreadful ordeal is called by the Indians a maraké.151

The practice of stinging the girl with ants or beating her with rods during these times is meant, without a doubt, not as punishment or a test of endurance, but as a way to purify her, aiming to drive away the harmful influences that it is believed are surrounding her. We've already seen examples of purification through beating, cutting the skin, and stinging with ants. In some Indian tribes of Brazil and Guiana, young men are not considered warriors and cannot marry until they endure a frightening ordeal, which involves being stung by swarms of painful ants whose bite feels like fire. For instance, among the Mauhes living along the Tapajos river, a southern tributary of the Amazon, boys aged eight to ten are required to thrust their arms into sleeves filled with fierce ants, referred to as *tocandeira* (*Cryptocerus atratus*, F.). When the young boy cries out in pain, a thrilled group of men dances around him, shouting and cheering until he collapses from exhaustion. He is then taken care of by elderly women, who apply fresh manioc juice to his severely swollen arms; once he recovers, he must demonstrate his strength and skill in bending a bow. This harsh ordeal is often repeated until the boy turns fourteen and can withstand the pain without showing any emotions. At that point, he is considered a man and can marry. A boy's age is measured by the number of times he has gone through this ordeal. One eyewitness described how a young Mauhe hero endured the pain with remarkable perseverance, dancing and singing with his arms encased in painful mittens before every cabin of the great communal house until pale, staggering, and with chattering teeth, he proudly presented the mittens to the old chief and received congratulations from the men and affection from the women; then, breaking away from his friends and admirers, he jumped into the river and stayed in the cool, soothing water until nightfall. Similarly, among the Ticunas of the Upper Amazon, on the border of Peru, a young man who wants to join the warriors must insert his arm into a basket full of venomous ants and keep it there for several minutes without crying out. He usually falls backward and sometimes succumbs to the fever that follows; therefore, as soon as the ordeal ends, the women shower him with attention and rub his swollen arm with a special kind of herb. Such ordeals seem to be common among the Indians of the Rio Negro as well as the Amazon. Among the Rucuyennes, a tribe in northern Brazil near Guiana, young men seeking marriage must undergo stings all over their bodies, not only from ants but also from wasps, applied to their bare skin using intricate trellis-work instruments shaped like fantastical quadrupeds or birds. The recipient typically faints and is carried like a corpse to his hammock, where he is tightly bound with cords. Once they regain consciousness, they writhe in pain, causing the hammocks to rock violently back and forth, shaking the hut as if it might fall apart. This terrifying ordeal is known among the Indians as a *maraké*.

The practice of having men and women be stung by ants to enhance their character and health or to make them invulnerable.

The same ordeal, under the same name, is also practised by the Wayanas, an Indian tribe of French Guiana, but with them, we are told, it is no longer deemed an indispensable preliminary to marriage; “it is rather a sort of national medicine administered chiefly to the youth of both sexes.” Applied to men, the maraké, as it is called, “sharpens them, prevents them from being heavy and lazy, makes them active, brisk, industrious, imparts strength, and helps them to shoot well with the bow; without it the Indians would always be slack and rather sickly, would always have a little fever, and would lie perpetually in their hammocks. As for the women, the maraké keeps them from going to sleep, renders them active, alert, brisk, [pg 064] gives them strength and a liking for work, makes them good housekeepers, good workers at the stockade, good makers of cachiri. Every one undergoes the maraké at least twice in his life, sometimes thrice, and oftener if he likes. It may be had from the age of about eight years and upward, and no one thinks it odd that a man of forty should voluntarily submit to it.”152 Similarly the Indians of St. Juan Capistrano in California used to be branded on some part of their bodies, generally on the right arm, but sometimes on the leg also, not as a proof of manly fortitude, but because they believed that the custom “added greater strength to the nerves, and gave a better pulse for the management of the bow.” Afterwards “they were whipped with nettles, and covered with ants, that they might become robust, and the infliction was always performed in summer, during the months of July and August, when the nettle was in its most fiery state. They gathered small bunches, which they fastened together, and the poor deluded Indian was chastised, by inflicting blows with them upon his naked limbs, until unable to walk; and then he was carried to the nest of the nearest and most furious species of ants, and laid down among them, while some of his friends, with sticks, kept annoying the insects to make them still more violent. What torments did they not undergo! What pain! What hellish inflictions! Yet their faith gave them power to endure all without a murmur, and they remained as if dead. Having undergone these dreadful ordeals, they were considered as invulnerable, and believed that the arrows of their enemies could no longer harm them.”153 Among the Alur, a tribe inhabiting the south-western region of the upper Nile, to bury a man in an ant-hill and leave him there for a while is the regular treatment for insanity.154

The same experience, under the same name, is also practiced by the Wayanas, an Indian tribe in French Guiana, but for them, it's no longer seen as a necessary step before marriage; "It’s more of a type of national medicine mainly given to young people of all genders." When applied to men, the maraké, as it is called, “makes them sharper, prevents laziness, helps them be active, energetic, and hardworking, gives them strength, and improves their aim with a bow; without it, the Indigenous people would always be sluggish and kind of sickly, would constantly have mild fevers, and would spend all their time lying in hammocks. As for the women, the maraké keeps them from getting drowsy, makes them energetic, alert, and lively, [pg 064] gives them strength and a desire to work, makes them good homemakers, effective workers at the stockade, and skilled makers of cachiri. Everyone goes through the maraké at least twice in their lives, sometimes three times, and more if they choose to. It can start as early as around eight years old, and no one finds it odd for a forty-year-old man to decide to do it.”152 Similarly, the Indians of St. Juan Capistrano in California used to be branded on some part of their bodies, typically on the right arm, but sometimes on the leg too, not as a mark of manly strength, but because they believed this practice "enhanced nerve strength and improved pulse for archery." Afterwards, They were whipped with nettles and covered with ants to toughen them up, and this always happened in the summer, during July and August, when the nettles were most intense. They would collect small bundles, tie them together, and the poor, misled Indian would be punished by having these struck against his bare skin until he couldn't walk; then he would be laid down in a nest of the nearest and most aggressive species of ants, while some friends with sticks stirred up the insects to make them even more vicious. What suffering they endured! What pain! What hellish torture! Yet their beliefs gave them the strength to endure it all without complaint, and they lay there as if dead. After going through these horrific trials, they were seen as invulnerable, believing that the arrows from their enemies could no longer harm them.153 Among the Alur, a tribe in the southwestern region of the upper Nile, burying a man in an ant hill and leaving him there for a while is the typical treatment for insanity.154

In these situations, the beating or stinging was initially seen as a way to purify; later, it came to be viewed as a test of bravery and resilience.

In like manner it is probable that beating or scourging as a religious or ceremonial rite was originally a [pg 065] mode of purification. It was meant to wipe off and drive away a dangerous contagion, whether personified as demoniacal or not, which was supposed to be adhering physically, though invisibly, to the body of the sufferer.155 The pain inflicted on the person beaten was no more the object of the beating than it is of a surgical operation with us; it was a necessary accident, that was all. In later times such customs were interpreted otherwise, and the pain, from being an accident, became the prime object of the ceremony, which was now regarded either as a test of endurance imposed upon persons at critical epochs of life, or as a mortification of the flesh well pleasing to the god. But asceticism, under any shape or form, is never primitive. [pg 066] The savage, it is true, in certain circumstances will voluntarily subject himself to pains and privations which appear to us wholly needless; but he never acts thus unless he believes that some solid temporal advantage is to be gained by so doing. Pain for the sake of pain, whether as a moral discipline in this life or as a means of winning a glorious immortality hereafter, is not an object which he sets himself deliberately to pursue.

In a similar way, it’s likely that beating or scourging as a religious or ceremonial rite was originally a [pg 065] method of purification. It was intended to wipe away and drive off a dangerous contagion, whether personified as demonic or not, which was believed to be physically clinging, though invisibly, to the body of the sufferer.155 The pain inflicted on the person being beaten was not the point of the beating any more than it is in a surgical procedure today; it was just a necessary side effect. In later times, these customs were seen in a different light, and the pain, which had been an accident, became the main focus of the ceremony. It was now viewed either as a test of endurance imposed on individuals during critical moments in life or as a way to mortify the flesh to please the deity. But asceticism, in any form, is never primitive. [pg 066] It's true that savages, under certain circumstances, will voluntarily put themselves through pains and hardships that seem completely unnecessary to us; however, they never do this unless they believe that some tangible benefit will come from it. Pain for the sake of pain, whether as moral discipline in this life or as a way to achieve glorious immortality later, is not something they actively seek out.

This explanation is supported by the beating of girls at puberty among South American Indians. The treatment of a girl at puberty among the Banivas of the Orinoco involves viewing the symptoms of puberty as wounds caused by a demon.

If this view is correct, we can understand why so many Indian tribes of South America compel the youth of both sexes to submit to these painful and sometimes fatal ordeals. They imagine that in this way they rid the young folk of certain evils inherent in youth, especially at the critical age of puberty; and when they picture to themselves the evils in a personal form as dangerous spirits or demons, the ceremony of their expulsion may in the strict sense be termed an exorcism. This certainly appears to be the interpretation which the Banivas of the Orinoco put upon the cruel scourgings which they inflict on girls at puberty. At her first menstruation a Baniva girl must pass several days and nights in her hammock, almost motionless and getting nothing to eat and drink but water and a little manioc. While she lies there, the suitors for her hand apply to her father, and he who can afford to give most for her or can prove himself the best man, is promised the damsel in marriage. The fast over, some old men enter the hut, bandage the girl's eyes, cover her head with a bonnet of which the fringes fall on her shoulders, and then lead her forth and tie her to a post set up in an open place. The head of the post is carved in the shape of a grotesque face. None but the old men may witness what follows. Were a woman caught peeping and prying, it would go ill with her; she would be marked out for the vengeance of the demon, who would make her expiate her crime at the very next moon by madness or death. Every participant in the ceremony comes armed with a scourge of cords or of fish skins; some of them reinforce the virtue of the instrument by tying little sharp stones to the end of the thongs. Then, to the dismal and deafening notes of shell-trumpets blown by two or three supernumeraries, the men circle round and round the [pg 067] post, every one applying his scourge as he passes to the girl's back, till it streams with blood. At last the musicians, winding tremendous blasts on their trumpets against the demon, advance and touch the post in which he is supposed to be incorporate. Then the blows cease to descend; the girl is untied, often in a fainting state, and carried away to have her wounds washed and simples applied to them. The youngest of the executioners, or rather of the exorcists, hastens to inform her betrothed husband of the happy issue of the exorcism. “The spirit,” he says, “had cast thy beloved into a sleep as deep almost as that of death. But we have rescued her from his attacks, and laid her down in such and such a place. Go seek her.” Then going from house to house through the village he cries to the inmates, “Come, let us burn the demon who would have taken possession of such and such a girl, our friend.” The bridegroom at once carries his wounded and suffering bride to his own house; and all the people gather round the post for the pleasure of burning it and the demon together. A great pile of firewood has meanwhile been heaped up about it, and the women run round the pyre cursing in shrill voices the wicked spirit who has wrought all this evil. The men join in with hoarser cries and animate themselves for the business in hand by deep draughts of an intoxicant which has been provided for the occasion by the parents-in-law. Soon the bridegroom, having committed the bride to the care of his mother, appears on the scene brandishing a lighted torch. He addresses the demon with bitter mockery and reproaches; informs him that the fair creature on whom he, the demon, had nefarious designs, is now his, the bridegroom's, blooming spouse; and shaking his torch at the grinning head on the post, he screams out, “This is how the victims of thy persecution take vengeance on thee!” With these words he puts a light to the pyre. At once the drums strike up, the trumpets blare, and men, women, and children begin to dance. In two long rows they dance, the men on one side, the women on the other, advancing till they almost touch and then retiring again. After that the two rows join hands, and forming a huge circle trip it round and round the blaze, till the post with its grotesque face is consumed in the flames [pg 068] and nothing of the pyre remains but a heap of red and glowing embers. “The evil spirit has been destroyed. Thus delivered from her persecutor, the young wife will be free from sickness, will not die in childbed, and will bear many children to her husband.”156 From this account it appears that the Banivas attribute the symptoms of puberty in girls to the wounds inflicted on them by an amorous devil, who, however, can be not only exorcised but burnt to ashes at the stake.

If this view is correct, we can see why many Indian tribes in South America force the youth of both genders to undergo these painful and sometimes deadly rituals. They believe that this process helps rid the young people of certain evils associated with youth, especially during the critical time of puberty. When they envision these evils as dangerous spirits or demons, the act of driving them away can be seen as an exorcism. This seems to be how the Banivas of the Orinoco interpret the severe beatings they administer to girls during puberty. When a Baniva girl has her first period, she must spend several days and nights in her hammock, almost completely still, surviving only on water and a little manioc. While she lies there, suitors approach her father, and the one who can pay the most or prove himself to be the best man is promised her hand in marriage. After the fasting period ends, some older men enter the hut, blindfold the girl, cover her head with a bonnet that has fringes dropping to her shoulders, and then take her outside to tie her to a post set up in an open space. The top of the post is carved to look like a grotesque face. Only the older men can witness what happens next. If a woman is caught peeking, it would go badly for her; she would be marked for the demon's wrath, which could lead to madness or death by the next full moon. Every participant in the ritual carries a scourge made of cords or fish skins; some even enhance the scourge's effectiveness by attaching small sharp stones to the ends of the thongs. To the loud and haunting sounds of shell trumpets played by a couple of extras, the men circle around the post, each one striking the girl's back with their scourge until it is covered in blood. Eventually, the musicians, blasting their trumpets against the demon, approach and touch the post where he is believed to be present. Then the blows stop; the girl is untied, often in a faint state, and taken away to have her wounds cleaned and treated. The youngest of the executioners, or rather exorcists, rushes to inform her fiancé about the successful exorcism. “The spirit," he says, "had put your beloved into a sleep almost as deep as death. But we have saved her from his grasp, and laid her down in such and such a place. Go find her.” Then he goes from house to house in the village, calling out to the people, “Come, let us burn the demon that tried to possess our friend, such and such a girl.” The groom immediately takes his wounded and suffering bride to his own house, and all the villagers gather around the post to prepare to burn it and the demon together. A huge pile of firewood has been stacked around it, and the women circle the pyre, loudly cursing the evil spirit that caused all this harm. The men join in with voices that are rougher and hype themselves up for the task at hand by taking deep swigs of a drink prepared for the occasion by the bride’s parents. Soon, the groom, having entrusted the bride to his mother's care, appears with a lit torch. He taunts and ridicules the demon, informing him that the beautiful woman he sought to harm is now the groom's lovely wife; shaking his torch at the grinning face on the post, he yells, “This is how the victims of your persecution take revenge on you!” With that, he sets the pyre ablaze. Instantly, the drums start playing, the trumpets sound, and everyone—men, women, and children—begins to dance. They form two long lines, with men on one side and women on the other, moving close enough to nearly touch, then pulling back again. Afterward, the two rows join hands and form a large circle, dancing around and around the fire until the post with its grotesque face is consumed by the flames and all that remains of the pyre is a pile of red and glowing embers. “The evil spirit has been destroyed. Now freed from her tormentor, the young wife will be healthy, will not die in childbirth, and will have many children with her husband.” From this description, it seems that the Banivas believe the signs of puberty in girls are caused by the wounds inflicted by a lustful devil, who can be both exorcised and burned to ashes at the stake.

§ 6. Isolation of Girls at Puberty in India and Cambodia.

Seclusion of girls during puberty among the Hindus in Southern India.

When a Hindoo maiden reaches maturity she is kept in a dark room for four days, and is forbidden to see the sun. She is regarded as unclean; no one may touch her. Her diet is restricted to boiled rice, milk, sugar, curd, and tamarind without salt. On the morning of the fifth day she goes to a neighbouring tank, accompanied by five women whose husbands are alive. Smeared with turmeric water, they all bathe and return home, throwing away the mat and other things that were in the room.157 The Rarhi Brahmans of Bengal compel a girl at puberty to live alone, and do not allow her to see the face of any male. For three days she remains shut up in a dark room, and has to undergo certain penances. Fish, flesh, and sweetmeats are forbidden her; she must live upon rice and ghee.158 Among the Tiyans of Malabar a girl is thought to be polluted for four days from the beginning of her first menstruation. During this time she must keep to the north side of the house, where she sleeps on a grass mat of a particular kind, in a room festooned with garlands of young coco-nut leaves. Another girl keeps her company and sleeps with her, but she may [pg 069] not touch any other person, tree or plant. Further, she may not see the sky, and woe betide her if she catches sight of a crow or a cat! Her diet must be strictly vegetarian, without salt, tamarinds, or chillies. She is armed against evil spirits by a knife, which is placed on the mat or carried on her person.159 Among the Kappiliyans of Madura and Tinnevelly a girl at her first monthly period remains under pollution for thirteen days, either in a corner of the house, which is screened off for her use by her maternal uncle, or in a temporary hut, which is erected by the same relative on the common land of the village. On the thirteenth day she bathes in a tank, and, on entering the house, steps over a pestle and a cake. Near the entrance some food is placed and a dog is allowed to partake of it; but his enjoyment is marred by suffering, for while he eats he receives a sound thrashing, and the louder he howls the better, for the larger will be the family to which the young woman will give birth; should there be no howls, there will be no children. The temporary hut in which the girl passed the days of her seclusion is burnt down, and the pots which she used are smashed to shivers.160 Similarly among the Parivarams of Madura, when a girl attains to puberty she is kept for sixteen days in a hut, which is guarded at night by her relations; and when her sequestration is over the hut is burnt down and the pots she used are broken into very small pieces, because they think that if rain-water gathered in any of them, the girl would be childless.161 The Pulayars of Travancore build a special hut in the jungle for the use of a girl at puberty; there she remains for seven days. No one else may enter the hut, not even her mother. Women stand a little way off and lay down food for her. At the end of the time she is brought home, clad in a new or clean cloth, and friends are treated to betel-nut, toddy, and arack.162 Among the Singhalese a girl at her first menstruation is confined to a room, where she may neither see nor be seen by any male. After being thus secluded for two weeks she is taken out, with her face covered, and is bathed by women at the back [pg 070] of the house. Near the bathing-place are kept branches of any milk-bearing tree, usually of the jak-tree. In some cases, while the time of purification or uncleanness lasts, the maiden stays in a separate hut, which is afterwards burnt down.163

When a Hindu girl comes of age, she is kept in a dark room for four days and is not allowed to see the sun. She is considered unclean, and no one is permitted to touch her. Her diet consists only of boiled rice, milk, sugar, curd, and tamarind without salt. On the morning of the fifth day, she goes to a nearby tank, accompanied by five women whose husbands are alive. Coated in turmeric water, they all bathe together and return home, discarding the mat and other items that were in the room.157 The Rarhi Brahmans of Bengal require a girl at puberty to live alone and do not allow her to see any male faces. For three days, she is confined in a dark room and has to perform certain penances. Fish, meat, and sweets are off-limits; she can only eat rice and ghee.158 Among the Tiyans of Malabar, a girl is considered impure for four days from the start of her first menstruation. During this time, she must stay on the north side of the house, sleeping on a specific kind of grass mat in a room decorated with garlands of young coconut leaves. Another girl keeps her company and sleeps with her, but she cannot touch anyone or anything else, including trees or plants. Furthermore, she is not allowed to see the sky, and it is bad luck if she spots a crow or a cat! Her diet must be strictly vegetarian, free of salt, tamarind, or chilies. She is protected from evil spirits by a knife, which is placed on her mat or carried with her.159 For the Kappiliyans of Madura and Tinnevelly, a girl at her first period remains in a state of pollution for thirteen days, either in a designated corner of the house, which is separated for her by her maternal uncle, or in a temporary hut set up by that same relative on common village land. On the thirteenth day, she bathes in a tank and, upon entering the house, steps over a pestle and a cake. Food is placed near the entrance, and a dog is allowed to eat it, but his enjoyment is interrupted by being beaten; the louder he howls, the better, as this predicts a larger family for the young woman. If he does not howl, she will have no children. The temporary hut where she spent her seclusion is burned down, and the pots she used are shattered.160 Similarly, among the Parivarams of Madura, when a girl reaches puberty, she is confined for sixteen days in a hut that her relatives guard at night; when her isolation ends, the hut is burned down, and the pots she used are broken into tiny pieces, as they believe that if rainwater collects in any of them, the girl will remain childless.161 The Pulayars of Travancore build a special hut in the forest for a girl at puberty, where she stays for seven days. No one else is allowed to enter, not even her mother. Women stand a distance away and leave food for her. At the end of this period, she is brought home wearing new or clean clothing, and friends are treated to betel nut, toddy, and arack.162 Among the Singhalese, a girl at her first menstruation is confined to a room where she cannot see or be seen by any male. After being secluded for two weeks, she is taken out, with her face covered, and bathed by women at the back of the house. Near the bathing area, branches of any milk-bearing tree, usually the jak-tree, are kept. In some cases, during her time of purification or uncleanness, the girl stays in a separate hut, which is later burned down.163

Isolation of girls during puberty in Cambodia.

In Cambodia a girl at puberty is put to bed under a mosquito curtain, where she should stay a hundred days. Usually, however, four, five, ten, or twenty days are thought enough; and even this, in a hot climate and under the close meshes of the curtain, is sufficiently trying.164 According to another account, a Cambodian maiden at puberty is said to “enter into the shade.” During her retirement, which, according to the rank and position of her family, may last any time from a few days to several years, she has to observe a number of rules, such as not to be seen by a strange man, not to eat flesh or fish, and so on. She goes nowhere, not even to the pagoda. But this state of seclusion is discontinued during eclipses; at such times she goes forth and pays her devotions to the monster who is supposed to cause eclipses by catching the heavenly bodies between his teeth.165 This permission to break her rule of retirement and appear abroad during an eclipse seems to shew how literally the injunction is interpreted which forbids maidens entering on womanhood to look upon the sun.

In Cambodia, when a girl reaches puberty, she is placed in bed under a mosquito net, where she is expected to stay for a hundred days. However, typically, she only remains in seclusion for four, five, ten, or twenty days, which is still quite challenging in a hot climate and under the close fabric of the net. According to another account, a Cambodian girl at puberty is said to "step into the shade." During her time in seclusion, which can last anywhere from a few days to several years depending on her family’s status, she must follow strict rules, such as not being seen by a strange man and avoiding meat and fish. She does not go out, not even to the pagoda. However, this seclusion is lifted during eclipses; at these times, she goes outside to offer her prayers to the entity believed to cause eclipses by swallowing celestial bodies. This allowance to break her seclusion and be seen during an eclipse seems to illustrate how strictly the rule is interpreted that forbids young women entering adulthood from looking directly at the sun.

§ 7. Girls' Seclusion at Puberty in Folk Tales.

Signs of girls' seclusion during puberty in folklore. Danish tale about a girl who was forbidden to see the sun.

A superstition so widely diffused as this might be expected to leave traces in legends and folk-tales. And it has done so. In a Danish story we read of a princess who was fated to be carried off by a warlock if ever the sun shone on her before she had passed her thirtieth year; so the king her father kept her shut up in the palace, and had all the windows on the east, south, and west sides blocked up, lest a sunbeam should fall on his darling child, and he [pg 071] should thus lose her for ever. Only at evening, when the sun was down, might she walk for a little in the beautiful garden of the castle. In time a prince came a-wooing, followed by a train of gorgeous knights and squires on horses all ablaze with gold and silver. The king said the prince might have his daughter to wife on condition that he would not carry her away to his home till she was thirty years old but would live with her in the castle, where the windows looked out only to the north. The prince agreed, so married they were. The bride was only fifteen, and fifteen more long weary years must pass before she might step out of the gloomy donjon, breathe the fresh air, and see the sun. But she and her gallant young bridegroom loved each other and they were happy. Often they sat hand in hand at the window looking out to the north and talked of what they would do when they were free. Still it was a little dull to look out always at the same window and to see nothing but the castle woods, and the distant hills, and the clouds drifting silently over them. Well, one day it happened that all the people in the castle had gone away to a neighbouring castle to witness a tournament and other gaieties, and the two young folks were left as usual all alone at the window looking out to the north. They sat silent for a time gazing away to the hills. It was a grey sad day, the sky was overcast, and the weather seemed to draw to rain. At last the prince said, “There will be no sunshine to-day. What if we were to drive over and join the rest at the tournament?” His young wife gladly consented, for she longed to see more of the world than those eternal green woods and those eternal blue hills, which were all she ever saw from the window. So the horses were put into the coach, and it rattled up to the door, and in they got and away they drove. At first all went well. The clouds hung low over the woods, the wind sighed in the trees, a drearier day you could hardly imagine. So they joined the rest at the other castle and took their seats to watch the jousting in the lists. So intent were they in watching the gay spectacle of the prancing steeds, the fluttering pennons, and the glittering armour of the knights, that they failed to mark the change, the fatal change, in the [pg 072] weather. For the wind was rising and had begun to disperse the clouds, and suddenly the sun broke through, and the glory of it fell like an aureole on the young wife, and at once she vanished away. No sooner did her husband miss her from his side than he, too, mysteriously disappeared. The tournament broke up in confusion, the bereft father hastened home, and shut himself up in the dark castle from which the light of life had departed. The green woods and the blue hills could still be seen from the window that looked to the north, but the young faces that had gazed out of it so wistfully were gone, as it seemed, for ever.166

A superstition this widespread is bound to leave its mark in legends and folk tales. And it has. In a Danish story, we find a princess doomed to be stolen by a warlock if the sun ever shone on her before she turned thirty. To protect her, her father, the king, kept her locked away in the palace, blocking all the windows on the east, south, and west sides to prevent even a single sunbeam from touching his precious daughter, fearing he would lose her forever. She was allowed to walk briefly in the beautiful garden of the castle only in the evening after the sun had set. Eventually, a prince came to woo her, accompanied by a stunning procession of knights and squires on horses adorned with gold and silver. The king agreed to let the prince marry his daughter but insisted that he could not take her home until she turned thirty; instead, they would live together in the castle where the windows opened only to the north. The prince agreed, and they got married. The bride was just fifteen, meaning she had to wait another fifteen long, tiresome years before she could step out of the dreary castle, breathe fresh air, and see the sun. However, she and her dashing young groom loved each other and found happiness together. They often sat hand in hand at the window, gazing north and dreaming about what they would do when they were finally free. Still, it became a bit monotonous to always look out from the same window, seeing only the castle woods, distant hills, and clouds drifting silently above. One day, all the castle’s residents went to a nearby castle to watch a tournament and participate in the festivities, leaving the two young lovers alone at the north-facing window. They sat in silence for a while, staring at the hills. It was a gray, gloomy day; the sky was overcast, and it looked like rain was coming. Finally, the prince said, “There won’t be any sunshine today. How about we drive over and join everyone at the tournament?” His young wife eagerly agreed, longing to see more of the world than those endless green woods and blue hills that were all she saw from the window. So, they got the horses ready, hopped into the coach, and set off. At first, everything went smoothly. The clouds hung low over the trees, the wind whispered through the leaves, and it was as dreary a day as one could imagine. They reached the other castle and took their seats to watch the jousting. They were so focused on the lively scene of prancing horses, fluttering banners, and shining armor that they didn’t notice the weather changing; the wind was picking up and pushing the clouds away. Suddenly, the sun broke through, casting a glorious light around the young wife, and in an instant, she vanished. As soon as her husband realized she was gone, he mysteriously disappeared too. The tournament ended in chaos, and the heartbroken father rushed home, locking himself in the dark castle from which the light of life had vanished. The green woods and blue hills were still visible from the north-facing window, but the young faces that had peered out so longingly were gone, seemingly forever.

Tyrolean tale of the girl who might never see the sun.

A Tyrolese story tells how it was the doom of a lovely maiden with golden hair to be transported into the belly of a whale if ever a sunbeam fell on her. Hearing of the fame of her beauty the king of the country sent for her to be his bride, and her brother drove the fair damsel to the palace in a carefully closed coach, himself sitting on the box and handling the reins. On the way they overtook two hideous witches, who pretended they were weary and begged for a lift in the coach. At first the brother refused to take them in, but his tender-hearted sister entreated him to have compassion on the two poor footsore women; for you may easily imagine that she was not acquainted with their true character. So down he got rather surlily from the box, opened the coach door, and in the two witches stepped, laughing in their sleeves. But no sooner had the brother mounted the box and whipped up the horses, than one of the two wicked witches bored a hole in the closed coach. A sunbeam at once shot through the hole and fell on the fair damsel. So she vanished from the coach and was spirited away into the belly of a whale in the neighbouring sea. You can imagine the consternation of the king, when the coach door opened and instead of his blooming bride out bounced two hideous hags!167

A Tyrolese story tells how a beautiful maiden with golden hair was doomed to be trapped in the belly of a whale if a sunbeam ever touched her. Hearing about her beauty, the king of the land called for her to be his bride, and her brother drove the lovely girl to the palace in a carefully closed carriage, while he sat on the front and handled the reins. On their way, they came across two ugly witches who pretended to be tired and asked for a ride in the carriage. At first, her brother refused to let them in, but his kind-hearted sister pleaded with him to help the two weary women; you can easily guess that she didn’t know their true nature. So, he reluctantly got down from the front, opened the carriage door, and the two witches climbed in, secretly laughing to themselves. But as soon as her brother got back on the front and urged the horses on, one of the wicked witches drilled a hole in the closed carriage. A sunbeam immediately shot through the hole and illuminated the beautiful maiden. Just like that, she vanished from the carriage and was whisked away into the belly of a whale in the nearby sea. You can imagine the shock on the king’s face when the carriage door opened and instead of his beautiful bride, out jumped two ugly hags!167

Modern Greek tales of the maid who might not see the sun.

In a modern Greek folk-tale the Fates predict that in her fifteenth year a princess must be careful not to let the sun [pg 073] shine on her, for if this were to happen she would be turned into a lizard.168 In another modern Greek tale the Sun bestows a daughter upon a childless woman on condition of taking the child back to himself when she is twelve years old. So, when the child was twelve, the mother closed the doors and windows, and stopped up all the chinks and crannies, to prevent the Sun from coming to fetch away her daughter. But she forgot to stop up the key-hole, and a sunbeam streamed through it and carried off the girl.169 In a Sicilian story a seer foretells that a king will have a daughter who, in her fourteenth year, will conceive a child by the Sun. So, when the child was born, the king shut her up in a lonely tower which had no window, lest a sunbeam should fall on her. When she was nearly fourteen years old, it happened that her parents sent her a piece of roasted kid, in which she found a sharp bone. With this bone she scraped a hole in the wall, and a sunbeam shot through the hole and got her with child.170

In a modern Greek folk tale, the Fates predict that on her fifteenth birthday, a princess must be careful not to let the sun [pg 073] shine on her, because if it does, she will be turned into a lizard.168 In another modern Greek story, the Sun grants a daughter to a woman who can't have children, but only on the condition that he can take the child back when she turns twelve. When the girl reached twelve, the mother closed all the doors and windows, and blocked up every crack to keep the Sun from taking her daughter away. However, she forgot to cover the keyhole, and a sunbeam came through it and took the girl away.169 In a Sicilian tale, a seer predicts that a king will have a daughter who, when she turns fourteen, will become pregnant by the Sun. So, when the girl was born, the king locked her in a lonely tower without any windows to prevent a sunbeam from reaching her. As she was approaching her fourteenth birthday, her parents sent her a piece of roasted kid, in which she found a sharp bone. With this bone, she scraped a hole in the wall, and a sunbeam came through the hole and got her pregnant.170

The tale of Danae and its counterpart in a Kirghiz legend.

The old Greek story of Danae, who was confined by [pg 074] her father in a subterranean chamber or a brazen tower, but impregnated by Zeus, who reached her in the shape of a shower of gold,171 perhaps belongs to the same class of tales. It has its counterpart in the legend which the Kirghiz of Siberia tell of their ancestry. A certain Khan had a fair daughter, whom he kept in a dark iron house, that no man might see her. An old woman tended her; and when the girl was grown to maidenhood she asked the old woman, “Where do you go so often?” “My child,” said the old dame, “there is a bright world. In that bright world your father and mother live, and all sorts of people live there. That is where I go.” The maiden said, “Good mother, I will tell nobody, but shew me that bright world.” So the old woman took the girl out of the iron house. But when she saw the bright world, the girl tottered and fainted; and the eye of God fell upon her, and she conceived. Her angry father put her in a golden chest and sent her floating away (fairy gold can float in fairyland) over the wide sea.172 The shower of gold in the Greek story, and the eye of God in the Kirghiz legend, probably stand for sunlight and the sun.

The old Greek story of Danae, who was locked away by her father in an underground chamber or a bronze tower, but became pregnant by Zeus, who reached her in the form of a shower of gold, perhaps belongs to a similar category of tales. It has its counterpart in the legend told by the Kirghiz of Siberia about their ancestry. A certain Khan had a beautiful daughter, whom he kept in a dark iron house so no man could see her. An old woman looked after her; and when the girl grew into a young woman, she asked the old woman, "Where do you go all the time?" "My kid," said the old woman, "There is a bright world. In that bright world, your father and mother live, along with all kinds of people. That's where I go." The young woman said, "Good mother, I won’t say a word to anyone, but please show me that amazing world." So the old woman took the girl out of the iron house. But when she saw the bright world, the girl staggered and fainted; and the eye of God fell upon her, and she became pregnant. Her angry father placed her in a golden chest and sent her floating away (fairy gold can float in fairyland) over the wide sea. 172 The shower of gold in the Greek story, and the eye of God in the Kirghiz legend, likely represent sunlight and the sun.

The sun's conception of women in legends.

The idea that women may be impregnated by the sun is not uncommon in legends. Thus, for example, among the Indians of Guacheta in Colombia, it is said, a report once ran that the sun would impregnate one of their maidens, who should bear a child and yet remain a virgin. The chief had two daughters, and was very desirous that one of them should conceive in this miraculous manner. So every day he made them climb a hill to the east of his house in order to be touched by the first beams of the rising sun. His wishes were fulfilled, for one of the damsels conceived and after nine months gave birth to an emerald. So she wrapped it in cotton and placed it in her bosom, and in a few days it turned into a child, who received the name of Garanchacha and was universally recognized as a son of the sun.173 Again, the Samoans tell of a woman named Mangamangai, [pg 075] who became pregnant by looking at the rising sun. Her son grew up and was named “Child of the Sun.” At his marriage he applied to his mother for a dowry, but she bade him apply to his father, the sun, and told him how to go to him. So one morning he took a long vine and made a noose in it; then climbing up a tree he threw the noose over the sun and caught him fast. Thus arrested in his progress, the luminary asked him what he wanted, and being told by the young man that he wanted a present for his bride, the sun obligingly packed up a store of blessings in a basket, with which the youth descended to the earth.174

The idea that women can be impregnated by the sun isn't uncommon in legends. For instance, among the Guacheta Indians in Colombia, there’s a story about how the sun would impregnate one of their maidens, who would give birth to a child while remaining a virgin. The chief had two daughters and really wanted one of them to conceive in this miraculous way. So every day, he made them climb a hill east of his house to be touched by the first rays of the rising sun. His wishes came true when one of the young women became pregnant and after nine months gave birth to an emerald. She wrapped it in cotton and held it close to her chest, and in a few days, it turned into a child, who was named Garanchacha and was universally recognized as a son of the sun.173 Similarly, the Samoans tell the story of a woman named Mangamangai, [pg 075] who became pregnant just by looking at the rising sun. Her son grew up and was called "Child of the Sun." When he was getting married, he asked his mother for a dowry, but she told him to ask his father, the sun, and showed him how to reach him. So one morning, he took a long vine and made a noose with it; then he climbed up a tree and threw the noose over the sun, catching it. The sun, held up in its path, asked what he wanted, and when the young man said he needed a gift for his bride, the sun kindly packed up a basket full of blessings, which the youth took back down to earth.174

There are remnants in marriage traditions reflecting the belief that women can become pregnant from the sun. There is also a belief that women can be impregnated by the moon.

Even in the marriage customs of various races we may perhaps detect traces of this belief that women can be impregnated by the sun. Thus amongst the Chaco Indians of South America a newly married couple used to sleep the first night on a mare's or bullock's skin with their heads towards the west, “for the marriage is not considered ratified till the rising sun shines on their feet the succeeding morning.”175 At old Hindoo marriages the first ceremony was the “Impregnation-rite” (Garbhādhāna); during the previous day the bride was made to look towards the sun or to be in some way exposed to its rays.176 Amongst the Turks of Siberia it was formerly the custom on the morning after the marriage to lead the young couple out of the hut to greet the rising sun. The same custom is said to be still practised in Iran and Central Asia under a belief that the beams of the rising sun are the surest means of impregnating the new bride.177 And as some people think that women may be gotten with child by the sun, so others imagine that they can conceive by the moon. According to the Greenlanders [pg 076] the moon is a young man, and he “now and then comes down to give their wives a visit and caress them; for which reason no woman dare sleep lying upon her back, without she first spits upon her fingers and rubs her belly with it. For the same reason the young maids are afraid to stare long at the moon, imagining they may get a child by the bargain.”178 Similarly Breton peasants are reported to believe that women or girls who expose their persons to the moonlight may be impregnated by it and give birth to monsters.179

Even in the marriage customs of different cultures, we might find hints of the belief that women can become pregnant by the sun. For example, among the Chaco Indians of South America, a newlywed couple used to sleep their first night on a mare's or bullock's skin with their heads facing west, “because the marriage isn't considered official until the sunrise touches their feet the next morning.”175 In traditional Hindu marriages, the first ceremony was the "Conception ritual" (Garbhādhāna); the day before, the bride would be made to look towards the sun or somehow be exposed to its rays.176 Among the Turks in Siberia, it used to be customary to take the newlyweds out of their hut in the morning to greet the rising sun. This practice is reportedly still followed in Iran and Central Asia, based on the belief that the sun's rays are the most reliable way to make the new bride pregnant.177 Just as some people believe that women can conceive by the sun, others think they might get pregnant by the moon. According to the Greenlanders [pg 076], the moon is a young man who “Sometimes they come down to visit their wives and show them affection; that's why no woman dares to sleep on her back without first spitting on her fingers and rubbing her belly with it. For the same reason, young girls are afraid to look at the moon for too long, fearing they might get pregnant.”178 Similarly, Breton peasants are said to believe that women or girls who expose themselves to moonlight could become pregnant by it and give birth to monsters.179

§ 8. Reasons for Keeping Girls Isolated During Puberty.

The reason for isolating women during puberty is the fear of menstrual blood.

The motive for the restraints so commonly imposed on girls at puberty is the deeply engrained dread which primitive man universally entertains of menstruous blood. He fears it at all times but especially on its first appearance; hence the restrictions under which women lie at their first menstruation are usually more stringent than those which they have to observe at any subsequent recurrence of the mysterious flow. Some evidence of the fear and of the customs based on it has been cited in an earlier part of this work;180 but as the terror, for it is nothing less, which the phenomenon periodically strikes into the mind of the savage has deeply influenced his life and institutions, it may be well to illustrate the subject with some further examples.

The reason behind the strict rules often placed on girls during puberty stems from the deep-seated fear that ancient humans universally felt towards menstruation. They feared it at all times, but especially when it first happened; therefore, the restrictions girls face during their first period are typically harsher than those they experience during future menstrual cycles. Some evidence of this fear and the related customs has been mentioned earlier in this work;180 but since the terror— which is nothing less— that this event instills in primitive minds has significantly shaped their lives and customs, it’s useful to provide more examples to illustrate the subject.

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Indigenous peoples of Australia.

Thus in the Encounter Bay tribe of South Australia there is, or used to be, a “superstition which obliges a woman to separate herself from the camp at the time of her monthly illness, when, if a young man or boy should approach, she calls out, and he immediately makes a circuit to avoid her. If she is neglectful upon this point, she exposes herself to scolding, and sometimes to severe beating by her husband or nearest relation, because the boys are told from their infancy, that if they see the blood they will early become grey-headed, and their strength will fail prematurely.”181 And [pg 077] of the South Australian aborigines in general we read that there is a “custom requiring all boys and uninitiated young men to sleep at some distance from the huts of the adults, and to remove altogether away in the morning as soon as daylight dawns, and the natives begin to move about. This is to prevent their seeing the women, some of whom may be menstruating; and if looked upon by the young males, it is supposed that dire results will follow.”182 And amongst these tribes women in their courses “are not allowed to eat fish of any kind, or to go near the water at all; it being one of their superstitions, that if a female, in that state, goes near the water, no success can be expected by the men in fishing.”183 Similarly, among the natives of the Murray River, menstruous women “were not allowed to go near water for fear of frightening the fish. They were also not allowed to eat them, for the same reason. A woman during such periods would never cross the river in a canoe, or even fetch water for the camp. It was sufficient for her to say Thama, to ensure her husband getting the water himself.”184 The Dieri of Central Australia believe that if women at these times were to eat fish or bathe in a river, the fish would all die and the water would dry up. In this tribe a mark made with red ochre round a woman's mouth indicates that she has her courses; no one would offer fish to such a woman.185 The Arunta of Central Australia forbid menstruous women to gather the irriakura bulbs, which form a staple article of diet for both men and women. They believe that were a woman to break this rule, the supply of bulbs would fail.186 Among the aborigines of Victoria the wife at her monthly periods had to sleep on the opposite side of the fire from her husband; she might partake of nobody's food, and nobody would partake of hers, for people thought that if they ate or drank anything that had been touched by a woman in her courses, it would make them weak or ill. Unmarried girls [pg 078] and widows at such times had to paint their heads and the upper parts of their bodies red,187 no doubt as a danger signal.

Thus in the Encounter Bay tribe of South Australia, there is, or used to be, a“superstition that forces a woman to isolate herself from the camp during her menstrual period. If a young man or boy comes near, she shouts out, and he quickly changes his path to avoid her. If she ignores this rule, she risks being reprimanded, and sometimes even severely beaten by her husband or a close relative, because boys are raised to believe that if they see blood, they will age prematurely and lose their strength.”181 And[pg 077] in general, the South Australian aborigines have a“Tradition requires that all boys and uninitiated young men sleep a bit away from the adults' huts and leave completely at dawn when the locals start to wake up. This is to keep them from seeing women, some of whom may be menstruating; it's believed that if young males look at them, serious consequences will occur.”182 And among these tribes, menstruating women"are not allowed to eat any type of fish or go near water at all, because one of their superstitions is that if a woman in that condition approaches water, the men will have no luck fishing."183 Similarly, among the natives of the Murray River, menstruating women“they weren’t allowed to go near water for fear of scaring the fish. They also couldn’t eat fish for the same reason. A woman on her period would never cross the river in a canoe or even get water for the camp. It was enough for her to say Thama, and her husband would fetch the water himself.”184 The Dieri of Central Australia believe that if women at this time eat fish or bathe in a river, all the fish will die, and the water will dry up. In this tribe, a mark made with red ochre around a woman’s mouth signifies that she is menstruating; nobody would offer fish to such a woman.185 The Arunta of Central Australia prohibit menstruating women from gathering the irriakura bulbs, which are a staple food for both men and women. They believe that if a woman breaks this rule, the supply of bulbs will run out.186 Among the aborigines of Victoria, a wife during her monthly period had to sleep on the opposite side of the fire from her husband; she could not share anyone’s food, and no one could eat hers, because people thought that consuming anything touched by a menstruating woman would make them weak or ill. Unmarried girls[pg 078] and widows at such times had to paint their heads and the upper parts of their bodies red,187 which likely served as a danger signal.

Severe penalties will be imposed for violations of the custom of seclusion.

In some Australian tribes the seclusion of menstruous women was even more rigid, and was enforced by severer penalties than a scolding or a beating. Thus with regard to certain tribes of New South Wales and Southern Queensland we are told that “during the monthly illness, the woman is not allowed to touch anything that men use, or even to walk on a path that any man frequents, on pain of death.”188 Again, “there is a regulation relating to camps in the Wakelbura tribe which forbids the women coming into the encampment by the same path as the men. Any violation of this rule would in a large camp be punished with death. The reason for this is the dread with which they regard the menstrual period of women. During such a time, a woman is kept entirely away from the camp, half a mile at least. A woman in such a condition has boughs of some tree of her totem tied round her loins, and is constantly watched and guarded, for it is thought that should any male be so unfortunate as to see a woman in such a condition, he would die. If such a woman were to let herself be seen by a man, she would probably be put to death. When the woman has recovered, she is painted red and white, her head covered with feathers, and returns to the camp.”189

In some Australian tribes, the isolation of menstruating women was even stricter and enforced with harsher penalties than simply being scolded or hit. For instance, in certain tribes of New South Wales and Southern Queensland, it is said that "During their menstrual period, women are forbidden to touch anything used by men or even walk on paths commonly used by men, with the consequence of death."188 Furthermore, The Wakelbura tribe has a rule that prevents women from entering the camp using the same path as men. Violating this rule in a large camp could lead to death. This originates from their extreme fear of women’s menstrual cycles. During this time, women must stay at least half a mile away from the camp. A menstruating woman has branches from her totem tree tied around her waist and is closely monitored and protected because it is believed that if a man accidentally sees a woman during this period, he would die. If a man were to see her, she would likely be killed. Once her period ends, the woman is painted red and white, wears feathers on her head, and can return to the camp.189

Fear and isolation of menstruating women in the Torres Strait Islands, New Guinea, Galela, and Sumatra.

In Muralug, one of the Torres Straits Islands, a menstruous woman may not eat anything that lives in the sea, else the natives believe that the fisheries would fail. Again, in Mabuiag, another of these islands, women who have their courses on them may not eat turtle flesh nor turtle eggs, probably for a similar reason. And during the season when the turtles are pairing the restrictions laid on [pg 079] such a woman are much severer. She may not even enter a house in which there is turtle flesh, nor approach a fire on which the flesh is cooking; she may not go near the sea and she should not walk on the beach below high-water mark. Nay, the infection extends to her husband, who may not himself harpoon or otherwise take an active part in catching turtle; however, he is permitted to form one of the crew on a turtling expedition, provided he takes the precaution of rubbing his armpits with certain leaves, to which no doubt a disinfectant virtue is ascribed.190 Among the Kai of German New Guinea women at their monthly sickness must live in little huts built for them in the forest; they may not enter the cultivated fields, for if they did go to them, and the pigs were to taste of the blood, it would inspire the animals with an irresistible desire to go likewise into the fields, where they would commit great depredations on the growing crops. Hence the issue from women at these times is carefully buried to prevent the pigs from getting at it. And conversely, if the pigs often break into the fields, the blame is laid on the women who by the neglect of these elementary precautions have put temptation in the way of the swine.191 In Galela, to the west of New Guinea, women at their monthly periods may not enter a tobacco-field, or the plants would be attacked by disease.192 The Minangkabauers of Sumatra are persuaded that if a woman in her unclean state were to go near a rice-field, the crop would be spoiled.193

In Muralug, one of the Torres Straits Islands, a menstruating woman cannot eat anything from the sea, as the locals believe it would cause the fisheries to fail. In Mabuiag, another island, women who are menstruating are not allowed to eat turtle meat or turtle eggs, likely for similar reasons. During the mating season of turtles, the restrictions on such women become even stricter. They cannot enter a house that has turtle meat, approach a fire where the meat is being cooked, go near the sea, or walk on the beach below high tide. Additionally, the rules extend to their husbands, who are not allowed to harpoon or otherwise participate in catching turtles, although they can join a turtling crew if they rub their armpits with certain leaves believed to have disinfectant properties. Among the Kai of German New Guinea, women during their monthly period must stay in small huts built for them in the forest; they are not allowed in cultivated fields, because if pigs were to consume their blood, it would create an uncontrollable urge in the animals to invade the fields, causing major damage to the crops. Therefore, any discharge from women during this time is carefully buried to keep it away from the pigs. Conversely, if pigs frequently break into the fields, the women are blamed for not following these basic precautions that would have prevented the swine from being tempted. In Galela, west of New Guinea, women on their period cannot enter a tobacco field, or the plants would become diseased. The Minangkabau of Sumatra believe that if a woman in her unclean state goes near a rice field, the crop will be ruined.

The fear and isolation of menstruating women among the tribes of South Africa, Central Africa, and East Africa.

The Bushmen of South Africa think that, by a glance of a girl's eye at the time when she ought to be kept in strict retirement, men become fixed in whatever position they happen to occupy, with whatever they were holding in their hands, and are changed into trees that talk.194 Cattle-rearing [pg 080] tribes of South Africa hold that their cattle would die if the milk were drunk by a menstruous woman;195 and they fear the same disaster if a drop of her blood were to fall on the ground and the oxen were to pass over it. To prevent such a calamity women in general, not menstruous women only, are forbidden to enter the cattle enclosure; and more than that, they may not use the ordinary paths in entering the village or in passing from one hut to another. They are obliged to make circuitous tracks at the back of the huts in order to avoid the ground in the middle of the village where the cattle stand or lie down. These women's tracks may be seen at every Caffre village.196 Similarly among the Bahima, a cattle-breeding tribe of Ankole, in Central Africa, no menstruous woman may drink milk, lest by so doing she should injure the cows; and she may not lie on her husband's bed, no doubt lest she should injure him. Indeed she is forbidden to lie on a bed at all and must sleep on the ground. Her diet is restricted to vegetables and beer.197 Among the Baganda, in like manner, no menstruous woman might drink milk or come into contact with any milk-vessel;198 and she might not touch anything that belonged to her husband, nor sit on his mat, nor cook his food. If she touched anything of his at such a time it was deemed equivalent to wishing him dead or to actually working magic for his destruction.199 Were she to handle any article of his, he would surely fall ill; were she to handle his weapons, he would certainly be killed in the next battle. Even a woman [pg 081] who did not menstruate was believed by the Baganda to be a source of danger to her husband, indeed capable of killing him. Hence, before he went to war, he used to wound her slightly with his spear so as to draw blood; this was thought to ensure his safe return.200 Apparently the notion was that if the wife did not lose blood in one way or another, her husband would be bled in war to make up for her deficiency; so by way of guarding against this undesirable event, he took care to relieve her of a little superfluous blood before he repaired to the field of honour. Further, the Baganda would not suffer a menstruous woman to visit a well; if she did so, they feared that the water would dry up, and that she herself would fall sick and die, unless she confessed her fault and the medicine-man made atonement for her.201 Among the Akikuyu of British East Africa, if a new hut is built in a village and the wife chances to menstruate in it on the day she lights the first fire there, the hut must be broken down and demolished the very next day. The woman may on no account sleep a second night in it; there is a curse (thahu) both on her and on it.202 In the Suk tribe of British East Africa warriors may not eat anything that has been touched by menstruous women. If they did so, it is believed that they would lose their virility; “in the rain they will shiver and in the heat they will faint.” Suk men and women take their meals apart, because the men fear that one or more of the women may be menstruating.203 The Anyanja of British Central Africa, at the southern end of Lake Nyassa, think that a man who should sleep with a woman in her courses would fall sick and die, unless some remedy were applied in time. And with them it is a rule that at such times a woman should not put any salt into the food she is cooking, otherwise the people who partook of the food salted by her would suffer from a certain disease called [pg 082] tsempo; hence to obviate the danger she calls a child to put the salt into the dish.204

The Bushmen of South Africa believe that when a girl glances at a man during her seclusion period, he becomes frozen in whatever position he is in, holding whatever he has, and turns into a talking tree.194 Cattle-rearing tribes in South Africa believe that their cattle would die if a menstruating woman drank the milk;195 they also fear the same outcome if a drop of her blood falls on the ground where the oxen walk. To avoid such a disaster, all women, not just those who are menstruating, are prohibited from entering the cattle enclosure. Furthermore, they cannot use the usual paths to enter the village or move between huts. They must take longer routes behind the huts to avoid the central area of the village where the cattle stand or lie down. The paths used by these women are visible in every Caffre village.196 Similarly, among the Bahima, a cattle-breeding tribe of Ankole in Central Africa, menstruating women are not allowed to drink milk, fearing they might harm the cows; they are also prohibited from lying on their husband's bed, likely for the same reason. In fact, they are not allowed to sleep on any bed and must rest on the ground. Their diet is limited to vegetables and beer.197 Among the Baganda, menstruating women are also restricted from drinking milk or touching any milk containers;198 they cannot touch anything belonging to their husbands, sit on his mat, or prepare his food. If they touch any of his belongings during this time, it is considered an act wishing him dead or performing magic against him.199 If she handles anything of his, he is believed to fall ill; if she touches his weapons, he is predicted to be killed in the next battle. Furthermore, even a woman who is not menstruating is believed by the Baganda to be a threat to her husband’s life, potentially capable of harming him. Therefore, before he goes to war, he would slightly wound her with his spear to draw blood; this was thought to ensure his safe return.200 The idea was that if the wife didn’t lose blood in some way, her husband would lose blood in battle to compensate; therefore, to prevent this undesirable outcome, he would relieve her of some excess blood before heading to war. Additionally, the Baganda do not allow menstruating women to visit a well; if they do, it is feared the water will dry up, and she would become sick and die unless she confessed her wrongdoing and had a medicine-man make amends.201 Among the Akikuyu of British East Africa, if a new hut is built and the wife happens to menstruate on the day she lights the first fire there, the hut must be destroyed the very next day. She cannot sleep in it a second night; there is a curse (thahu) on both her and the hut.202 In the Suk tribe of British East Africa, warriors cannot eat anything touched by menstruating women. It is believed that if they do, they will lose their virility; "In the rain, they'll shiver, and in the heat, they'll faint." Suk men and women eat separately because the men fear that some of the women may be menstruating.203 The Anyanja of British Central Africa, near Lake Nyassa, believe that a man who sleeps with a menstruating woman will fall ill and die unless a remedy is applied quickly. It is also a rule among them that during this time, a woman should not add salt to her cooking; otherwise, those who eat the food salted by her will suffer from a certain illness called [pg 082]tsempo; to avoid this risk, she calls a child to add the salt instead.204

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the tribes of West Africa.

Among the Hos, a tribe of Ewe negroes of Togoland in West Africa, so long as a wife has her monthly sickness she may not cook for her husband, nor lie on his bed, nor sit on his stool; an infraction of these rules would assuredly, it is believed, cause her husband to die. If her husband is a priest, or a magician, or a chief, she may not pass the days of her uncleanness in the house, but must go elsewhere till she is clean.205 Among the Ewe negroes of this region each village has its huts where women who have their courses on them must spend their time secluded from intercourse with other people. Sometimes these huts stand by themselves in public places; sometimes they are mere shelters built either at the back or front of the ordinary dwelling-houses. A woman is punishable if she does not pass the time of her monthly sickness in one of these huts or shelters provided for her use. Thus, if she shews herself in her own house or even in the yard of the house, she may be fined a sheep, which is killed, its flesh divided among the people, and its blood poured on the image of the chief god as a sin-offering to expiate her offence. She is also forbidden to go to the place where the villagers draw water, and if she breaks the rule, she must give a goat to be killed; its flesh is distributed, and its blood, diluted with water and mixed with herbs, is sprinkled on the watering-place and on the paths leading to it. Were any woman to disregard these salutary precautions, the chief fetish-man in the village would fall sick and die, which would be an irreparable loss to society.206

Among the Hos, a tribe of Ewe people in Togoland, West Africa, as long as a woman has her period, she cannot cook for her husband, lie on his bed, or sit on his stool; breaking these rules is believed to cause her husband to die. If her husband is a priest, magician, or chief, she must leave the house during her time of uncleanness and find somewhere else to stay until she’s clean. Among the Ewe people in this area, each village has specific huts where women on their periods must isolate themselves from others. Sometimes these huts are located in public spaces, while other times they are simple shelters at the back or front of regular homes. A woman can be punished if she doesn’t spend her period in one of these designated huts or shelters. If she is seen in her own house or even in the yard, she may be fined a sheep, which is killed, its meat shared among the people, and its blood poured on the image of the chief god as a sin-offering to make up for her offense. She is also not allowed to go to the village water source, and if she does, she must provide a goat to be sacrificed; its meat is shared, and its blood mixed with water and herbs is sprinkled on the watering place and the paths leading to it. If a woman ignores these important rules, the chief fetish-man of the village would become ill and die, which would be a significant loss to the community.

In Arab legend, menstruating blood is believed to hold powerful influence.

The miraculous virtue ascribed to menstruous blood is well illustrated in a story told by the Arab chronicler Tabari. He relates how Sapor, king of Persia, besieged the strong city of Atrae, in the desert of Mesopotamia, for several years without [pg 083] being able to take it. But the king of the city, whose name was Daizan, had a daughter, and when it was with her after the manner of women she went forth from the city and dwelt for a time in the suburb, for such was the custom of the place. Now it fell out that, while she tarried there, Sapor saw her and loved her, and she loved him; for he was a handsome man and she a lovely maid. And she said to him, “What will you give me if I shew you how you may destroy the walls of this city and slay my father?” And he said to her, “I will give you what you will, and I will exalt you above my other wives, and will set you nearer to me than them all.” Then she said to him, “Take a greenish dove with a ring about its neck, and write something on its foot with the menstruous blood of a blue-eyed maid; then let the bird loose, and it will perch on the walls of the city, and they will fall down.” For that, says the Arab historian, was the talisman of the city, which could not be destroyed in any other way. And Sapor did as she bade him, and the city fell down in a heap, and he stormed it and slew Daizan on the spot.207

The miraculous virtue attributed to menstrual blood is well demonstrated in a story recounted by the Arab historian Tabari. He tells of Sapor, the king of Persia, who laid siege to the fortified city of Atrae in the desert of Mesopotamia for several years without success. The king of the city, named Daizan, had a daughter who, during her menstrual cycle, left the city and stayed in the suburb, as was customary. While she was there, Sapor noticed her and fell in love; she loved him back, for he was a handsome man and she a beautiful young woman. She asked him, "What will you give me if I show you how to break down the walls of this city and kill my father?" He replied, "I'll give you anything you desire, and I'll honor you more than my other wives, making you closer to me than all of them." Then she instructed him, “Catch a greenish dove with a ring around its neck, and write something on its foot using the menstrual blood of a blue-eyed girl; then release the bird, and it will land on the city walls, causing them to fall down.” According to the Arab historian, that was the city’s talisman, which could not be destroyed in any other way. Sapor followed her instructions, and the city crumbled, allowing him to storm it and kill Daizan on the spot.207

The fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Jews in Syria, India, and Annam.

According to the Talmud, if a woman at the beginning of her period passes between two men, she thereby kills one of them; if she passes between them towards the end of her period, she only causes them to quarrel violently.208 Maimonides tells us that down to his time it was a common custom in the East to keep women at their periods in a separate house and to burn everything on which they had trodden; a man who spoke with such a woman or who was merely exposed to the same wind that blew over her, became thereby unclean.209 Peasants of the Lebanon think that menstruous women are the cause of many misfortunes; their shadow [pg 084] causes flowers to wither and trees to perish, it even arrests the movements of serpents; if one of them mounts a horse, the animal might die or at least be disabled for a long time.210 In Syria to this day a woman who has her courses on her may neither salt nor pickle, for the people think that whatever she pickled or salted would not keep.211 The Toaripi of New Guinea, doubtless for a similar reason, will not allow women at such times to cook.212 The Bhuiyars, a Dravidian tribe of South Mirzapur, are said to feel an intense dread of menstrual pollution. Every house has two doors, one of which is used only by women in this condition. During her impurity the wife is fed by her husband apart from the rest of the family, and whenever she has to quit the house she is obliged to creep out on her hands and knees in order not to defile the thatch by her touch.213 The Kharwars, another aboriginal tribe of the same district, keep their women at such seasons in the outer verandah of the house for eight days, and will not let them enter the kitchen or the cow-house; during this time the unclean woman may not cook nor even touch the cooking vessels. When the eight days are over, she bathes, washes her clothes, and returns to family life.214 Hindoo women seclude themselves at their monthly periods and observe a number of rules, such as not to drink milk, not to milk cows, not to touch fire, not to lie on a high bed, not to walk on common paths, not to cross the track of animals, not to walk by the side of flowering plants, and not to observe the heavenly bodies.215 The motive for these [pg 085] restrictions is not mentioned, but probably it is a dread of the baleful influence which is supposed to emanate from women at these times. The Parsees, who reverence fire, will not suffer menstruous women to see it or even to look on a lighted taper;216 during their infirmity the women retire from their houses to little lodges in the country, whither victuals are brought to them daily; at the end of their seclusion they bathe and send a kid, a fowl, or a pigeon to the priest as an offering.217 In Annam a woman at her monthly periods is deemed a centre of impurity, and contact with her is avoided. She is subject to all sorts of restrictions which she must observe herself and which others must observe towards her. She may not touch any food which is to be preserved by salting, whether it be fish, flesh, or vegetables; for were she to touch it the food would putrefy. She may not enter any sacred place, she may not be present at any religious ceremony. The linen which she wears at such times must be washed by herself at sunrise, never at night. On reaching puberty girls may not touch flowers or the fruits of certain trees, for touched by them the flowers would fade and the fruits fall to the ground. “It is on account of their reputation for impurity that the women generally live isolated. In every house they have an apartment reserved for them, and they never eat at the same table as the men. For the same reason they are excluded from all religious ceremonies. They may only be present at family ceremonies, but without ever officiating in them.”218

According to the Talmud, if a woman at the start of her period walks between two men, she effectively causes one of them to die; if she passes between them toward the end of her period, she only incites them to argue fiercely. 208 Maimonides states that up until his time, it was common in the East to keep women who were menstruating in a separate house and to burn everything they had walked on; a man who spoke with such a woman or who was merely touched by the same air she breathed would become unclean. 209 Peasants in Lebanon believe that menstruating women bring about many misfortunes; their shadow [pg 084] can cause flowers to wilt and trees to die, and it even halts the movements of snakes; if one of them rides a horse, the animal could die or at least be seriously injured for a long time. 210 In Syria today, a woman on her period is not allowed to salt or pickle food, as people believe that anything she preserves will spoil. 211 The Toaripi of New Guinea, likely for similar reasons, do not permit women during their periods to cook. 212 The Bhuiyars, a Dravidian tribe in South Mirzapur, are said to be very fearful of menstrual pollution. Every house has two doors, one of which is used only by women in this state. During her impurity, the wife is fed separately from the family, and whenever she needs to leave the house, she must crawl out on her hands and knees to avoid contaminating the thatch with her touch. 213 The Kharwars, another indigenous tribe from the same region, keep their women outside the house for eight days during their period, and they are not allowed in the kitchen or the cow-house; during this time, the unclean woman cannot cook or even touch the cooking utensils. After the eight days are over, she bathes, cleans her clothes, and returns to family life. 214 Hindu women isolate themselves during their monthly cycles and follow several rules, such as not drinking milk, not milking cows, avoiding fire, not lying on a high bed, not walking on common paths, not crossing the tracks of animals, avoiding flowering plants, and not observing celestial bodies. 215 The reason for these [pg 085] restrictions is not specified, but it likely stems from a fear of the negative influence thought to come from women during these times. The Parsees, who have a deep reverence for fire, do not allow menstruating women to see it or even look at a burning flame; 216 during their period, women retreat to small lodges in the countryside, where food is brought to them daily; at the end of their seclusion, they bathe and offer a kid, a fowl, or a pigeon to the priest as a sacrifice. 217 In Annam, a woman during her monthly period is considered a source of impurity, and people avoid contact with her. She faces all kinds of restrictions that she must follow and that others must observe regarding her. She cannot touch any food meant to be preserved by salting, whether it be fish, meat, or vegetables; if she were to touch it, the food would spoil. She is not allowed to enter any sacred space or attend any religious ceremonies. The linens she wears during this time must be washed by her at sunrise, never at night. Once girls reach puberty, they are prohibited from touching flowers or the fruits of certain trees, as touching them would cause the flowers to wilt and the fruits to drop. "Because of their reputation for impurity, women typically live in isolation. Each house has a specific room for them, and they never share a table with the men. For the same reason, they are excluded from all religious ceremonies. They can only be present at family gatherings, but they never participate in them." 218

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Indigenous peoples of South and Central America.

The Guayquiries of the Orinoco think that when a woman has her courses, everything upon which she steps will die, and that if a man treads on the place where she has passed, his legs will immediately swell up.219 Among the Guaraunos of the same great river, women at their periods are regarded as unclean and kept apart in special huts, where [pg 086] all that they need is brought to them.220 In like manner among the Piapocos, an Indian tribe on the Guayabero, a tributary of the Orinoco, a menstruous woman is secluded from her family every month for four or five days. She passes the time in a special hut, whither her husband brings her food; and at the end of the time she takes a bath and resumes her usual occupations.221 So among the Indians of the Mosquito territory in Central America, when a woman is in her courses, she must quit the village for seven or eight days. A small hut is built for her in the wood, and at night some of the village girls go and sleep with her to keep her company. Or if the nights are dark and jaguars are known to be prowling in the neighbourhood, her husband will take his gun or bow and sleep in a hammock near her. She may neither handle nor cook food; all is prepared and carried to her. When the sickness is over, she bathes in the river, puts on clean clothes, and returns to her household duties.222 Among the Bri-bri Indians of Costa Rica a girl at her first menstruation retires to a hut built for the purpose in the forest, and there she must stay till she has been purified by a medicine-man, who breathes on her and places various objects, such as feathers, the beaks of birds, the teeth of beasts, and so forth, upon her body. A married woman at her periods remains in the house with her husband, but she is reckoned unclean (bukuru) and must avoid all intimate relations with him. She uses for plates only banana leaves, which, when she has done with them, she throws away in a sequestered spot; for should a cow find and eat them, the animal would waste away and perish. Also she drinks only out of a special vessel, because any person who should afterwards drink out of the same vessel would infallibly pine away and die.223

The Guayquiries of the Orinoco believe that when a woman is menstruating, everything she steps on will die, and if a man walks over the places she has been, his legs will swell up. Among the Guaraunos of the same river, women during their periods are considered unclean and kept in special huts where everything they need is brought to them. Similarly, among the Piapocos, an Indian tribe on the Guayabero, a tributary of the Orinoco, a menstruating woman is separated from her family for four or five days each month. She spends this time in a designated hut, where her husband brings her food, and after this period, she takes a bath and returns to her usual activities. In the Mosquito territory in Central America, when a woman is on her period, she must leave the village for seven or eight days. A small hut is built for her in the woods, and at night, some village girls go to keep her company. If it's dark and there are jaguars nearby, her husband will stay close by with his gun or bow. She is not allowed to handle or cook food; everything is provided for her. Once her period is over, she bathes in the river, puts on clean clothes, and returns to her household responsibilities. Among the Bri-bri Indians of Costa Rica, a girl experiences her first menstruation in a hut built for her in the forest, where she must stay until purified by a medicine man who breathes on her and places various objects like feathers, bird beaks, and animal teeth on her body. A married woman during her period stays at home with her husband but is considered unclean (bukuru) and must avoid any intimate relations with him. She uses banana leaves as plates, which she discards in a secluded spot; if a cow eats them, it would waste away and die. She also drinks from a special vessel, as anyone who drinks from the same vessel afterward would surely waste away and die.

[pg 087]

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Indigenous peoples of North America.

Among most tribes of North American Indians the custom was that women in their courses retired from the camp or the village and lived during the time of their uncleanness in special huts or shelters which were appropriated to their use. There they dwelt apart, eating and sleeping by themselves, warming themselves at their own fires, and strictly abstaining from all communications with men, who shunned them just as if they were stricken with the plague. No article of furniture used in these menstrual huts might be used in any other, not even the flint and steel with which in the old days the fires were kindled. No one would borrow a light from a woman in her seclusion. If a white man in his ignorance asked to light his pipe at her fire, she would refuse to grant the request, telling him that it would make his nose bleed and his head ache, and that he would fall sick in consequence. If an Indian's wooden pipe cracked, his friends would think that he had either lit it at one of these polluted fires or had held some converse with a woman during her retirement, which was esteemed a most disgraceful and wicked thing to do. Decent men would not approach within a certain distance of a woman at such times, and if they had to convey anything to her they would stand some forty or fifty paces off and throw it to her. Everything which was touched by her hands during this period was deemed ceremonially unclean. Indeed her touch was thought to convey such pollution that if she chanced to lay a finger on a chief's lodge or his gun or anything else belonging to him, it would be instantly destroyed. If she crossed the path of a hunter or a warrior, his luck for that day at least would be gone. Were she not thus secluded, it was supposed that the men would be attacked by diseases of various kinds, which would prove mortal. In some tribes a woman who infringed the rules of separation might have to answer with her life for any misfortunes that might happen to individuals or to the tribe in consequence, as it was supposed, of her criminal negligence. When she quitted her tent or hut to go into retirement, the fire in it was extinguished and the ashes thrown away outside of the village, and a new fire was kindled, as if the old one had been defiled by her presence. At the end of their [pg 088] seclusion the women bathed in running streams and returned to their usual occupations.224

Among most tribes of North American Indians, women would isolate themselves from the camp or village during their menstrual periods and stay in designated huts or shelters meant for this purpose. While there, they lived separately, cooking and sleeping alone, warming themselves by their own fires, and strictly avoiding any interaction with men, who would keep their distance as if they were infected with a disease. No furniture used in these menstrual huts could be used elsewhere, not even the flint and steel used to start fires in the past. Nobody would borrow a light from a woman in seclusion. If a white man, unaware of the customs, asked to light his pipe at her fire, she would refuse and explain that it would make him ill, causing nosebleeds and headaches. If an Indian's wooden pipe cracked, his friends would assume he had either lit it at one of these tainted fires or spoken to a woman during her retreat, both of which were considered shameful and sinful. Respectable men would keep their distance from a woman during this time, and if they needed to pass something to her, they would stand about forty or fifty paces away and toss it to her. Anything she touched during this period was viewed as ceremonially unclean. Her touch was thought to carry such contamination that if she inadvertently touched a chief's lodge, his gun, or any of his belongings, those items would be immediately destroyed. If a hunter or warrior crossed paths with her, they would lose their good luck for the day. It was believed that if she weren't isolated, the men would suffer from various diseases that could be fatal. In some tribes, if a woman broke the rules of separation, she could be held accountable for any misfortunes that befell individuals or the tribe due to what was seen as her negligent behavior. When she left her hut for seclusion, the fire inside would be extinguished, and the ashes thrown away outside the village, followed by lighting a new fire as if the old one had been tainted by her presence. Once their seclusion ended, the women would bathe in running streams and then return to their usual activities.

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Creek, Choctaw, Omaha, and Cheyenne tribes.

Thus, to take examples, the Creek and kindred Indians of the United States compelled women at menstruation to live in separate huts at some distance from the village. There the women had to stay, at the risk of being surprised and cut off by enemies. It was thought “a most horrid and dangerous pollution” to go near the women at such times; and the danger extended to enemies who, if they slew the women, had to cleanse themselves from the pollution by means of certain sacred herbs and roots.225 Similarly, the Choctaw women had to quit their huts during their monthly periods, and might not return till after they had been purified. While their uncleanness lasted they had to prepare their own food. The men believed that if they were to approach a menstruous woman, they would fall ill, and that some mishap would overtake them when they went to the wars.226 When an Omaha woman has her courses on her, she retires from the family to a little shelter of bark or grass, supported by sticks, where she kindles a fire and cooks her victuals alone. Her seclusion lasts four days. During this time she may not approach or touch a horse, for the Indians believe that [pg 089] such contamination would impoverish or weaken the animal.227 Among the Potawatomis the women at their monthly periods “are not allowed to associate with the rest of the nation; they are completely laid aside, and are not permitted to touch any article of furniture or food which the men have occasion to use. If the Indians be stationary at the time, the women are placed outside of the camp; if on a march, they are not allowed to follow the trail, but must take a different path and keep at a distance from the main body.”228 Among the Cheyennes menstruous women slept in special lodges; the men believed that if they slept with their wives at such times, they would probably be wounded in their next battle. A man who owned a shield had very particularly to be on his guard against women in their courses. He might not go into a lodge where one of them happened to be, nor even into a lodge where one of them had been, until a ceremony of purification had been performed. Sweet grass and juniper were burnt in the tent, and the pegs were pulled up and the covering thrown back, as if the tent were about to be struck. After this pretence of decamping from the polluted spot the owner of the shield might enter the tent.229

So, for example, the Creek and similar Native American tribes forced women to live in separate huts during their menstrual periods, away from the village. The women had to remain there, risking being surprised and attacked by enemies. It was considered "a very terrible and dangerous form of pollution" to come near the women at those times; this danger also applied to enemies who, if they harmed the women, had to cleanse themselves of the pollution using specific sacred herbs and roots.225 Similarly, Choctaw women had to leave their huts during their monthly periods and couldn't return until they were purified. While they were considered unclean, they had to prepare their own meals. The men believed that approaching a menstruating woman would make them ill and that bad luck would befall them in battle.226 When an Omaha woman is on her period, she isolates herself in a small shelter made of bark or grass, supported by sticks, where she lights a fire and cooks her food alone. Her isolation lasts four days. During this time, she must not approach or touch any horses, as the tribe believes that [pg 089] such contact would harm or weaken the animals.227 Among the Potawatomis, women on their monthly periods "are not allowed to interact with the rest of the nation; they are entirely set apart and are not permitted to handle any furniture or food that the men need. If the Indians are stationary, the women are kept outside the camp; if they're on the move, they cannot follow the trail but must take a different route and stay away from the main group."228 Among the Cheyennes, menstruating women slept in special lodges; the men believed that sleeping with their wives during this time would likely result in injury in their next battle. A man who owned a shield had to be particularly careful around menstruating women. He couldn't enter a lodge where one was present or even where one had been until a purification ceremony took place. They burned sweet grass and juniper in the tent, pulled up the pegs, and threw back the covering as if preparing to leave the polluted spot. After this pretense of moving away, the shield owner could then enter the tent.229

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Indigenous people of British Columbia.

The Stseelis Indians of British Columbia imagined that if a menstruous woman were to step over a bundle of arrows, the arrows would thereby be rendered useless and might even cause the death of their owner; and similarly that if she passed in front of a hunter who carried a gun, the weapon would never shoot straight again. Neither her husband nor her father would dream of going out to hunt while she was in this state; and even if he had wished to do so, the other hunters would not go with him. Hence to keep them out of harm's way, the women, both married and unmarried, were secluded at these times for four days in shelters.230 Among the Thompson [pg 090] Indians of British Columbia every woman had to isolate herself from the rest of the people during every recurring period of menstruation, and had to live some little way off in a small brush or bark lodge made for the purpose. At these times she was considered unclean, must use cooking and eating utensils of her own, and was supplied with food by some other woman. If she smoked out of a pipe other than her own, that pipe would ever afterwards be hot to smoke. If she crossed in front of a gun, that gun would thenceforth be useless for the war or the chase, unless indeed the owner promptly washed the weapon in “medecine” or struck the woman with it once on each principal part of her body. If a man ate or had any intercourse with a menstruous woman, nay if he merely wore clothes or mocassins made or patched by her, he would have bad luck in hunting and the bears would attack him fiercely. Before being admitted again among the people, she had to change all her clothes and wash several times in clear water. The clothes worn during her isolation were hung on a tree, to be used next time, or to be washed. For one day after coming back among the people she did not cook food. Were a man to eat food cooked by a woman at such times, he would have incapacitated himself for hunting and exposed himself to sickness or death.231

The Stseelis Indians of British Columbia believed that if a menstruating woman stepped over a bundle of arrows, the arrows would become useless and might even lead to the owner's death. Similarly, if she walked in front of a hunter with a gun, that weapon would never shoot straight again. Her husband or father wouldn’t even think about going hunting while she was in this condition, and even if he wanted to, the other hunters wouldn’t join him. To keep everyone safe, both married and unmarried women were secluded for four days in shelters during this time.230 Among the Thompson [pg 090] Indians of British Columbia, every woman had to isolate herself from the rest of the community during each menstruation and live a bit away in a small brush or bark lodge built for that purpose. During this time, she was considered unclean, had to use her own cooking and eating utensils, and was provided with food by another woman. If she smoked from a pipe that wasn’t hers, that pipe would be too hot to use afterward. If she crossed in front of a gun, that gun would be useless for war or hunting, unless the owner promptly washed it in healthcare or struck the woman once on each main part of her body. If a man ate or had any kind of sexual contact with a menstruating woman, or even wore clothes or moccasins made or mended by her, he would suffer bad luck in hunting and might be attacked fiercely by bears. Before being welcomed back into the community, she had to change all her clothes and wash several times in clear water. The clothes she wore during her isolation were hung on a tree to be used next time or to be washed. For one day after returning to the community, she wouldn’t cook food. If a man ate food cooked by a woman during that time, he would disqualify himself for hunting and risk becoming sick or dying.231

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Chippeway Indians.

Among the Chippeways and other Indians of the Hudson Bay Territory, menstruous women are excluded from the camp, and take up their abode in huts of branches. They wear long hoods, which effectually conceal the head and breast. They may not touch the household furniture nor any objects used by men; for their touch “is supposed to defile them, so that their subsequent use would be followed by certain mischief or misfortune,” such as disease or death. They must drink out of a swan's bone. They may not walk on the common paths nor cross the tracks of animals. They “are never permitted to walk on the ice of rivers or lakes, or near the part where the men are hunting beaver, or where a fishing-net is set, for fear of averting [pg 091] their success. They are also prohibited at those times from partaking of the head of any animal, and even from walking in or crossing the track where the head of a deer, moose, beaver, and many other animals have lately been carried, either on a sledge or on the back. To be guilty of a violation of this custom is considered as of the greatest importance; because they firmly believe that it would be a means of preventing the hunter from having an equal success in his future excursions.”232 So the Lapps forbid women at menstruation to walk on that part of the shore where the fishers are in the habit of setting out their fish;233 and the Esquimaux of Bering Strait believe that if hunters were to come near women in their courses they would catch no game.234

Among the Chippeways and other Indigenous tribes of the Hudson Bay area, women who are menstruating are kept away from the camp and stay in huts made of branches. They wear long hoods that completely obscure their heads and chests. They are not allowed to touch household items or anything used by men because their touch is believed to defile these objects, which could lead to bad luck or misfortune, such as illness or death. They must drink from a swan's bone. They are also prohibited from walking on common paths or crossing animal tracks. They are never permitted to walk on the ice of rivers or lakes, or near areas where men are hunting beavers or fishing, as this could ruin their chances of success. During this time, they also cannot eat the head of any animal or walk on or cross tracks where the heads of deer, moose, beaver, and other animals have recently been carried, either on sleds or on backs. Breaking this custom is considered very serious because they strongly believe it will hinder the hunter's success in future outings. Similarly, the Lapps prevent menstruating women from walking on the part of the shore where fishermen usually set up, and the Esquimaux of Bering Strait think that if hunters come close to menstruating women, they will catch no game.

Fear and isolation of menstruating women among the Tinneh or Déné Indians. Traditions and beliefs of the Carrier Indians concerning menstruating women.

But the beliefs and superstitions of this sort that prevail among the western tribes of the great Déné or Tinneh stock, to which the Chippeways belong, have been so well described by an experienced missionary, that I will give his description in his own words. Prominent among the ceremonial rites of these Indians, he says, “are the observances peculiar to the fair sex, and many of them are remarkably analogous to those practised by the Hebrew women, so much so that, were it not savouring of profanity, the ordinances of the Déné ritual code might be termed a new edition ‘revised and considerably augmented’ of the Mosaic ceremonial law. Among the Carriers,235 as soon as a girl has experienced the first flow of the menses which in the female constitution are a natural discharge, her father believed himself under the obligation of atoning for her supposedly sinful condition by a small impromptu distribution of clothes among the natives. This periodical state of women was considered as one of legal impurity [pg 092] fateful both to the man who happened to have any intercourse, however indirect, with her, and to the woman herself who failed in scrupulously observing all the rites prescribed by ancient usage for persons in her condition.

But the beliefs and superstitions of this kind that are common among the western tribes of the great Déné or Tinneh stock, which includes the Chippeways, have been clearly described by an experienced missionary, so I will share his description in his own words. He says that prominent among the ceremonial rites of these Indians are the practices specific to women, many of which are remarkably similar to those followed by Hebrew women. In fact, if it didn't seem sacrilegious, one might call the Déné ritual code a new edition “revised and considerably augmented” of the Mosaic ceremonial law. Among the Carriers, as soon as a girl experiences her first menstruation, which is a natural occurrence in women, her father feels obligated to make amends for her supposedly sinful state by giving out some clothes to the locals. This periodic state of women was viewed as one of legal impurity, which could have dire consequences both for any man who had even indirect contact with her and for the woman herself if she failed to follow all the traditional rites required for someone in her condition.

Isolation of Carrier girls during puberty.

“Upon entering into that stage of her life, the maiden was immediately sequestered from company, even that of her parents, and compelled to dwell in a small branch hut by herself away from beaten paths and the gaze of passers-by. As she was supposed to exercise malefic influence on any man who might inadvertently glance at her, she had to wear a sort of head-dress combining in itself the purposes of a veil, a bonnet, and a mantlet. It was made of tanned skin, its forepart was shaped like a long fringe completely hiding from view the face and breasts; then it formed on the head a close-fitting cap or bonnet, and finally fell in a broad band almost to the heels. This head-dress was made and publicly placed on her head by a paternal aunt, who received at once some present from the girl's father. When, three or four years later, the period of sequestration ceased, only this same aunt had the right to take off her niece's ceremonial head-dress. Furthermore, the girl's fingers, wrists, and legs at the ankles and immediately below the knees, were encircled with ornamental rings and bracelets of sinew intended as a protection against the malign influences she was supposed to be possessed with.236 To a belt girding her waist were suspended two bone implements called respectively Tsoenkuz (bone tube) and Tsiltsoet (head scratcher). The former was a hollowed swan bone to drink with, any other mode of drinking being unlawful to her. The latter was fork-like and was called into requisition whenever she wanted to scratch her head—immediate contact of the fingers with the head being reputed injurious to her health. While thus secluded, she was called asta, that [pg 093] is ‘interred alive’ in Carrier, and she had to submit to a rigorous fast and abstinence. Her only allowed food consisted of dried fish boiled in a small bark vessel which nobody else must touch, and she had to abstain especially from meat of any kind, as well as fresh fish. Nor was this all she had to endure; even her contact, however remote, with these two articles of diet was so dreaded that she could not cross the public paths or trails, or the tracks of animals. Whenever absolute necessity constrained her to go beyond such spots, she had to be packed or carried over them lest she should contaminate the game or meat which had passed that way, or had been brought over these paths; and also for the sake of self-preservation against tabooed, and consequently to her, deleterious food. In the same way she was never allowed to wade in streams or lakes, for fear of causing death to the fish.

When the young woman reached that point in her life, she was immediately cut off from everyone, including her parents, and forced to live alone in a small hut away from common paths and people. It was believed she would have a negative impact on any man who might accidentally see her, so she had to wear a special headpiece that acted as a veil, bonnet, and mantlet all at once. Made of tanned skin, the front was designed like a long fringe that completely hid her face and chest; it then fitted like a cap on her head and extended down into a wide band almost to her heels. Her paternal aunt made and ceremoniously placed this headpiece on her head, and in return, the girl’s father gave the aunt a gift. When the isolation period ended three or four years later, only this same aunt could remove her niece's ceremonial headpiece. Furthermore, her fingers, wrists, and ankles were decorated with decorative rings and bracelets made of sinew, intended to protect her from perceived harmful influences. She wore two bone tools attached to a belt around her waist: Tsoenkuz (bone tube) and Tsiltsoet (head scratcher). The first was a hollow swan bone for drinking, as any other drinking method was forbidden for her. The second was fork-like, used whenever she needed to scratch her head—touching her head with her fingers was thought to be harmful. During her seclusion, she was called asta, which in Carrier means ‘interred alive’[pg 093], and she had to follow strict fasting and abstinence rules. The only food she was allowed was dried fish boiled in a small bark vessel that no one else could touch, and she especially had to avoid any kind of meat and fresh fish. That wasn’t all; even the slightest contact with these two types of food was seen as extremely dangerous, preventing her from crossing public trails or animal paths. If it was absolutely necessary to go beyond those areas, she had to be carried over to avoid contaminating any game or meat that had passed through there and to protect herself from forbidden foods that were harmful to her. Similarly, she was never allowed to wade in streams or lakes for fear of causing death to the fish.

“It was also a prescription of the ancient ritual code for females during this primary condition to eat as little as possible, and to remain lying down, especially in course of each monthly flow, not only as a natural consequence of the prolonged fast and resulting weakness; but chiefly as an exhibition of a becoming penitential spirit which was believed to be rewarded by long life and continual good health in after years.

It was also a rule from the ancient ritual code that women during this primary condition should eat very little and remain lying down, especially during their monthly period. This wasn’t just a natural consequence of prolonged fasting and the resulting weakness; it was primarily viewed as a reflection of a proper penitential spirit, which people believed would lead to a long life and good health in the future.

Isolation of Carrier women during their monthly periods. Reasons for the isolation of menstruating women among the Indigenous peoples.

“These mortifications or seclusion did not last less than three or four years. Useless to say that during all that time marriage could not be thought of, since the girl could not so much as be seen by men. When married, the same sequestration was practised relatively to husband and fellow-villagers—without the particular head-dress and rings spoken of—on the occasion of every recurring menstruation. Sometimes it was protracted as long as ten days at a time, especially during the first years of cohabitation. Even when she returned to her mate, she was not permitted to sleep with him on the first nor frequently on the second night, but would choose a distant corner of the lodge to spread her blanket, as if afraid to defile him with her dread uncleanness.”237 Elsewhere the same writer tells us that most of [pg 094] the devices to which these Indians used to resort for the sake of ensuring success in the chase “were based on their regard for continence and their excessive repugnance for, and dread of, menstruating women.”238 But the strict observances imposed on Tinneh or Déné women at such times were designed at the same time to protect the women themselves from the evil consequences of their dangerous condition. Thus it was thought that women in their courses could not partake of the head, heart, or hind part of an animal that had been caught in a snare without exposing themselves to a premature death through a kind of rabies. They might not cut or carve salmon, because to do so would seriously endanger their health, and especially would enfeeble their arms for life. And they had to abstain from cutting up the grebes which are caught by the Carriers in great numbers every spring, because otherwise the blood with which these fowls abound would occasion hæmorrhage or an unnaturally prolonged flux in the transgressor.239 Similarly Indian women of the Thompson tribe abstained from venison and the flesh of other large game during menstruation, lest the animals should be displeased and the menstrual flow increased.240 For a similar reason, probably, Shuswap girls during their seclusion at puberty are forbidden to eat anything that bleeds.241 The same principle may perhaps partly explain the rule, of which we have had some examples, that women at such times should refrain from fish and flesh, and restrict themselves to a vegetable diet.

“These periods of isolation lasted at least three or four years. It's pointless to mention that during this time, marriage was impossible since the girl couldn’t even be seen by men. Once married, similar isolation was practiced regarding her husband and fellow villagers—without the special headgear and rings mentioned—every time her period came. Sometimes this lasted as long as ten days, especially during the early years of living together. Even when she returned to her husband, she wasn’t allowed to sleep with him on the first night or often on the second night either; instead, she’d choose a far corner of the lodge to lay her blanket, as if she were afraid of contaminating him with her so-called uncleanness.”237 Elsewhere, the same writer tells us that most of [pg 094] the methods these Indians used to ensure success in hunting “were rooted in their respect for purity and their strong dislike for, and fear of, menstruating women.”238 But the strict rules imposed on Tinneh or Déné women during these times were also meant to protect the women themselves from the harmful effects of their situation. It was believed that women on their periods could not eat the head, heart, or hindquarters of an animal that had been trapped without risking a premature death due to a kind of rabies. They were not allowed to cut or prepare salmon, as doing so could seriously threaten their health, particularly weakening their arms for life. They also had to avoid cutting up the grebes, which are caught in large numbers by the Carriers every spring, since otherwise the blood abundant in these birds could cause excessive bleeding or an unusually prolonged flow in the violator.239 Similarly, Indian women of the Thompson tribe avoided venison and the meat of other large game during their periods to prevent displeasing the animals and worsening their menstrual flow.240 For a similar reason, Shuswap girls are likely forbidden from eating anything that bleeds during their isolation at puberty.241 This same principle might partly explain the rule, which we have seen some examples of, that women during this time should avoid fish and meat and limit themselves to a vegetarian diet.

Similar rules of seclusion were imposed on menstruating women in ancient Hindu, Persian, and Hebrew laws.

The philosophic student of human nature will observe, or learn, without surprise that ideas thus deeply ingrained [pg 095] in the savage mind reappear at a more advanced stage of society in those elaborate codes which have been drawn up for the guidance of certain peoples by lawgivers who claim to have derived the rules they inculcate from the direct inspiration of the deity. However we may explain it, the resemblance which exists between the earliest official utterances of the deity and the ideas of savages is unquestionably close and remarkable; whether it be, as some suppose, that God communed face to face with man in those early days, or, as others maintain, that man mistook his wild and wandering thoughts for a revelation from heaven. Be that as it may, certain it is that the natural uncleanness of woman at her monthly periods is a conception which has occurred, or been revealed, with singular unanimity to several ancient legislators. The Hindoo lawgiver Manu, who professed to have received his institutes from the creator Brahman, informs us that the wisdom, the energy, the strength, the sight, and the vitality of a man who approaches a woman in her courses will utterly perish; whereas, if he avoids her, his wisdom, energy, strength, sight, and vitality will all increase.242 The Persian lawgiver Zoroaster, who, if we can take his word for it, derived his code from the mouth of the supreme being Ahura Mazda, devoted special attention to the subject. According to him, the menstrous flow, at least in its abnormal manifestations, is a work of Ahriman, or the devil. Therefore, so long as it lasts, a woman “is unclean and possessed of the demon; she must be kept confined, apart from the faithful whom her touch would defile, and from the fire which her very look would injure; she is not allowed to eat as much as she wishes, as the strength she might acquire would accrue to the fiends. Her food is not given her from hand to hand, but is passed to her from a distance, in a long leaden spoon.”243 The Hebrew lawgiver Moses, whose divine legation is as little open to question as that of Manu and Zoroaster, treats the subject at still greater length; but I must leave to the reader the task of comparing the inspired ordinances [pg 096] on this head with the merely human regulations of the Carrier Indians which they so closely resemble.

The philosophical student of human nature will notice, or discover without surprise, that ideas deeply ingrained in the primitive mind reappear at a more advanced stage of society in the detailed laws created by lawmakers who claim these rules come directly from divine inspiration. Regardless of how we interpret it, the similarity between the earliest official statements from the divine and the beliefs of primitive people is undeniably close and striking; whether it is, as some believe, that God spoke directly to humans in those early days, or, as others argue, that humans confused their wild and erratic thoughts for messages from heaven. Regardless, it's clear that the idea of a woman's natural uncleanness during her monthly period is a concept that has been consistently recognized or revealed to various ancient lawmakers. The Hindu lawgiver Manu, who claimed to have received his teachings from the creator Brahman, tells us that a man who approaches a woman during her period will lose all his wisdom, energy, strength, sight, and vitality; however, if he stays away, these qualities will grow. The Persian lawgiver Zoroaster, who, if we can believe him, received his laws from the supreme being Ahura Mazda, paid particular attention to this subject. According to him, the menstrual flow, especially its abnormal forms, is a work of Ahriman, or the devil. As a result, while it lasts, a woman “is unclean and possessed by the demon; she must be kept isolated from the faithful whom her touch would taint, and from fire which her mere gaze could harm; she is not allowed to eat as much as she wants, as any strength she might gain would go to the fiends. Her food is not handed directly to her but is passed to her from a distance, using a long leaden spoon.” The Hebrew lawgiver Moses, whose divine mission is as unquestionable as that of Manu and Zoroaster, explores this topic in even greater depth; however, I will leave it to the reader to compare the inspired rules concerning this matter with the purely human regulations of the Carrier Indians, which closely resemble them.

Superstitions about menstruating women in ancient and modern Europe.

Amongst the civilized nations of Europe the superstitions which cluster round this mysterious aspect of woman's nature are not less extravagant than those which prevail among savages. In the oldest existing cyclopaedia—the Natural History of Pliny—the list of dangers apprehended from menstruation is longer than any furnished by mere barbarians. According to Pliny, the touch of a menstruous woman turned wine to vinegar, blighted crops, killed seedlings, blasted gardens, brought down the fruit from trees, dimmed mirrors, blunted razors, rusted iron and brass (especially at the waning of the moon), killed bees, or at least drove them from their hives, caused mares to miscarry, and so forth.244 Similarly, in various parts of Europe, it is still believed that if a woman in her courses enters a brewery the beer will turn sour; if she touches beer, wine, vinegar, or milk, it will go bad; if she makes jam, it will not keep; if she mounts a mare, it will miscarry; if she touches buds, they will wither; if she climbs a cherry tree, it will die.245 In Brunswick people think that if a menstruous woman assists at the killing of a pig, the pork will putrefy.246 In the Greek island of Calymnos a woman at such times may not [pg 097] go to the well to draw water, nor cross a running stream, nor enter the sea. Her presence in a boat is said to raise storms.247

Among the civilized nations of Europe, the superstitions surrounding this mysterious aspect of women's nature are just as extreme as those found among primitive cultures. In the oldest existing encyclopedia—the Natural History by Pliny—the list of dangers associated with menstruation is longer than any provided by mere savages. According to Pliny, the touch of a menstruating woman could turn wine into vinegar, ruin crops, kill seedlings, damage gardens, cause fruit to drop from trees, cloud mirrors, dull razors, rust iron and brass (especially during the waning moon), kill bees or at least drive them away from their hives, cause mares to have miscarriages, and so on.244 Similarly, in various parts of Europe, it is still believed that if a woman on her period enters a brewery, the beer will turn sour; if she touches beer, wine, vinegar, or milk, it will spoil; if she makes jam, it won’t preserve; if she rides a mare, it will miscarry; if she touches buds, they will wither; if she climbs a cherry tree, it will die.245 In Brunswick, people think that if a menstruating woman helps kill a pig, the pork will rot.246 On the Greek island of Calymnos, a woman during her periods is not allowed to go to the well to draw water, cross a running stream, or enter the sea. Her presence in a boat is believed to cause storms.247

The purpose of isolating menstruating women is to counteract the harmful effects believed to come from them during that time. It creates a separation between heaven and earth.

Thus the object of secluding women at menstruation is to neutralize the dangerous influences which are supposed to emanate from them at such times. That the danger is believed to be especially great at the first menstruation appears from the unusual precautions taken to isolate girls at this crisis. Two of these precautions have been illustrated above, namely, the rules that the girl may not touch the ground nor see the sun. The general effect of these rules is to keep her suspended, so to say, between heaven and earth. Whether enveloped in her hammock and slung up to the roof, as in South America, or raised above the ground in a dark and narrow cage, as in New Ireland, she may be considered to be out of the way of doing mischief, since, being shut off both from the earth and from the sun, she can poison neither of these great sources of life by her deadly contagion. In short, she is rendered harmless by being, in electrical language, insulated. But the precautions thus taken to isolate or insulate the girl are dictated by a regard for her own safety as well as for the safety of others. For it is thought that she herself would suffer if she were to neglect the prescribed regimen. Thus Zulu girls, as we have seen, believe that they would shrivel to skeletons if the sun were to shine on them at puberty, and in some Brazilian tribes the young women think that a transgression of the rules would entail sores on the neck and throat. In short, the girl is viewed as charged with a powerful force which, if not kept within bounds, may prove destructive both to herself and to all with whom she comes in contact. To repress this force within the limits necessary for the safety of all concerned is the object of the taboos in question.

Thus, the purpose of isolating women during their menstruation is to neutralize the dangerous influences that are believed to come from them at that time. The perceived danger is thought to be particularly significant during a girl’s first menstruation, as reflected in the unusual precautions taken to separate her during this period. Two of these precautions are mentioned above, specifically the rules that the girl cannot touch the ground or see the sun. The overall effect of these rules is to keep her in a sort of limbo between heaven and earth. Whether she is wrapped in her hammock and suspended from the roof, as in South America, or elevated in a dark, narrow cage as seen in New Ireland, she is kept from causing harm, since, by being cut off from both the earth and the sun, she cannot poison these essential sources of life with her negative energy. In short, she is made harmless by being, in electrical terms, insulated. However, the measures taken to isolate or insulate the girl are based on concern for both her own safety and the safety of others. It is believed that she would suffer if she disregarded the established guidelines. For instance, Zulu girls believe they would wither away if exposed to sunlight during puberty, and among some Brazilian tribes, young women think breaking the rules could result in sores on their neck and throat. In summary, the girl is seen as carrying a powerful force that, if not contained, could be harmful both to herself and to those around her. The purpose of these taboos is to keep this force within the limits necessary for the safety of everyone involved.

The same explanation applies to the similar rules of isolation followed by divine kings and priests. A balance between heaven and earth.

The same explanation applies to the observance of the same rules by divine kings and priests. The uncleanness, as it is called, of girls at puberty and the sanctity of holy men do not, to the primitive mind, differ materially from each other. They are only different manifestations of the same mysterious energy which, like energy in general, is in itself neither good [pg 098] nor bad, but becomes beneficent or maleficent according to its application.248 Accordingly, if, like girls at puberty, divine personages may neither touch the ground nor see the sun, the reason is, on the one hand, a fear lest their divinity might, at contact with earth or heaven, discharge itself with fatal violence on either; and, on the other hand, an apprehension that the divine being, thus drained of his ethereal virtue, might thereby be incapacitated for the future performance of those magical functions, upon the proper discharge of which the safety of the people and even of the [pg 099] world is believed to hang. Thus the rules in question fall under the head of the taboos which we examined in the second part of this work;249 they are intended to preserve the life of the divine person and with it the life of his subjects and worshippers. Nowhere, it is thought, can his precious yet dangerous life be at once so safe and so harmless as when it is neither in heaven nor in earth, but, as far as possible, suspended between the two.250

The same explanation applies to the behavior of divine kings and priests. The idea of girls being "unclean" during puberty and the holiness of religious figures don't seem that different to someone from a primitive mindset. They are just different expressions of the same mysterious energy that, like energy in general, isn't inherently good or bad but becomes helpful or harmful depending on how it's used. So, if divine beings, like girls during puberty, aren't allowed to touch the ground or see the sun, it's partly because there’s a fear that their divinity might cause catastrophic consequences upon contact with earth or sky. On the other hand, there’s concern that if a divine being loses their ethereal power, they might not be able to perform those magical duties that are believed to ensure the safety of the people and even the world. Thus, these rules fall under the category of taboos we discussed in the second part of this work; they are meant to protect the life of the divine being and, in turn, the lives of their subjects and worshippers. It’s believed that his valuable yet risky existence is safest and least harmful when it’s neither fully in heaven nor on earth, but as suspended as possible between the two.

Stories of immortality achieved by being suspended between heaven and earth.

In legends and folk-tales, which reflect the ideas of earlier ages, we find this suspension between heaven and earth attributed to beings who have been endowed with the coveted yet burdensome gift of immortality. The wizened remains of the deathless Sibyl are said to have been preserved in a jar or urn which hung in a temple of Apollo at Cumae; and when a group of merry children, tired, perhaps, of playing in the sunny streets, sought the shade of the temple and amused themselves by gathering underneath the familiar jar and calling out, “Sibyl, what do you wish?” a hollow voice, like an echo, used to answer from the urn, “I wish to die.”251 A story, taken down from the lips of a German peasant at Thomsdorf, relates that once upon a time there was a girl in London who wished to live for ever, so they say:

In legends and folk tales, which reflect the ideas of earlier times, we find this connection between heaven and earth attributed to beings who have been given the coveted yet heavy burden of immortality. The aging remains of the immortal Sibyl are said to have been kept in a jar or urn that hung in a temple of Apollo at Cumae; and when a group of joyful children, perhaps tired from playing in the sunny streets, sought the shade of the temple and entertained themselves by gathering under the familiar jar and calling out, “Sibyl, what do you want?” a hollow voice, like an echo, would answer from the urn, “I want to die.”251 A story recorded from a German peasant at Thomsdorf tells of a girl in London who, it is said, wanted to live forever:

London is a great city.
A young woman prayed to live forever.

And still she lives and hangs in a basket in a church, and every St. John's Day, about the hour of noon, she eats a roll of bread.252 Another German story tells of a lady who [pg 100] resided at Danzig and was so rich and so blest with all that life can give that she wished to live always. So when she came to her latter end, she did not really die but only looked like dead, and very soon they found her in a hollow of a pillar in the church, half standing and half sitting, motionless. She stirred never a limb, but they saw quite plainly that she was alive, and she sits there down to this blessed day. Every New Year's Day the sacristan comes and puts a morsel of the holy bread in her mouth, and that is all she has to live on. Long, long has she rued her fatal wish who set this transient life above the eternal joys of heaven.253 A third German story tells of a noble damsel who cherished the same foolish wish for immortality. So they put her in a basket and hung her up in a church, and there she hangs and never dies, though many a year has come and gone since they put her there. But every year on a certain day they give her a roll, and she eats it and cries out, “For ever! for ever! for ever!” And when she has so cried she falls silent again till the same time next year, and so it will go on for ever and for ever.254 A fourth story, taken down near Oldenburg in Holstein, tells of a jolly dame that ate and drank and lived right merrily and had all that heart could desire, and she wished to live always. For the first hundred years all went well, but after that she began to shrink and shrivel up, till at last she could neither walk nor stand nor eat nor drink. But die she could not. At first they fed her as if she were a little child, but when she grew smaller and smaller they put her in a glass bottle and hung her up in the church. And there she still hangs, in the church of St. Mary, at Lübeck. She is as small as a mouse, but once a year she stirs.255

And still she lives and hangs in a basket in a church, and every St. John's Day, around noon, she eats a roll of bread.252 Another German story tells of a lady who [pg 100] lived in Danzig and was so wealthy and blessed with everything life could offer that she wished to live forever. So when her time came, she didn’t actually die but only looked dead, and soon they found her in a hollow of a pillar in the church, half standing and half sitting, motionless. She didn’t move at all, but it was clear she was alive, and she remains there to this day. Every New Year's Day, the sacristan comes and puts a piece of the holy bread in her mouth, and that’s all she has to survive. She has long regretted her fatal wish that placed this fleeting life above the eternal joys of heaven.253 A third German story tells of a noble lady who had the same foolish desire for immortality. So they placed her in a basket and hung her in a church, and there she hangs, never dying, even though many years have passed since they did that. But every year on a specific day, they give her a roll, and she eats it and cries out, "Forever! Forever! Forever!" After she cries this, she falls silent again until the same time next year, and it will continue this way forever.254 A fourth story, recorded near Oldenburg in Holstein, tells of a cheerful woman who ate and drank and lived joyfully, having everything her heart desired, and she wished to live forever. For the first hundred years, everything was fine, but after that, she started to shrink and wither until, in the end, she couldn’t walk, stand, eat, or drink. But die she could not. At first, they fed her like a little child, but as she became smaller and smaller, they put her in a glass bottle and hung her in the church. And there she still hangs, in the church of St. Mary, in Lübeck. She is as small as a mouse, but once a year she stirs.255

[pg 101]

Chapter III. The Myth of Balder.

How Balder, the good and beautiful god, was killed by a blow from the mistletoe.

A deity whose life might in a sense be said to be neither in heaven nor on earth but between the two, was the Norse Balder, the good and beautiful god, the son of the great god Odin, and himself the wisest, mildest, best beloved of all the immortals. The story of his death, as it is told in the younger or prose Edda, runs thus. Once on a time Balder dreamed heavy dreams which seemed to forebode his death. Thereupon the gods held a council and resolved to make him secure against every danger. So the goddess Frigg took an oath from fire and water, iron and all metals, stones and earth, from trees, sicknesses and poisons, and from all four-footed beasts, birds, and creeping things, that they would not hurt Balder. When this was done Balder was deemed invulnerable; so the gods amused themselves by setting him in their midst, while some shot at him, others hewed at him, and others threw stones at him. But whatever they did, nothing could hurt him; and at this they were all glad, Only Loki, the mischief-maker, was displeased, and he went in the guise of an old woman to Frigg, who told him that the weapons of the gods could not wound Balder, since she had made them all swear not to hurt him. Then Loki asked, “Have all things sworn to spare Balder?” She answered, “East of Walhalla grows a plant called mistletoe; it seemed to me too young to swear.” So Loki went and pulled the mistletoe and took it to the assembly of the gods. There he found the blind god Hother standing at the outside of the circle. Loki asked him, “Why do you not shoot at Balder?” Hother answered, “Because I do not see where [pg 102] he stands; besides I have no weapon.” Then said Loki, “Do like the rest and shew Balder honour, as they all do. I will shew you where he stands, and do you shoot at him with this twig.” Hother took the mistletoe and threw it at Balder, as Loki directed him. The mistletoe struck Balder and pierced him through and through, and he fell down dead. And that was the greatest misfortune that ever befell gods and men. For a while the gods stood speechless, then they lifted up their voices and wept bitterly. They took Balder's body and brought it to the sea-shore. There stood Balder's ship; it was called Ringhorn, and was the hugest of all ships. The gods wished to launch the ship and to burn Balder's body on it, but the ship would not stir. So they sent for a giantess called Hyrrockin. She came riding on a wolf and gave the ship such a push that fire flashed from the rollers and all the earth shook. Then Balder's body was taken and placed on the funeral pile upon his ship. When his wife Nanna saw that, her heart burst for sorrow and she died. So she was laid on the funeral pile with her husband, and fire was put to it. Balder's horse, too, with all its trappings, was burned on the pile.256

A deity whose life could be said to exist neither in heaven nor on earth but in between was the Norse god Balder, the good and beautiful god, the son of the great god Odin, who was also the wisest, gentlest, and most beloved of all the immortals. The story of his death, as told in the younger or prose Edda, goes like this. Once, Balder had troubling dreams that seemed to predict his death. The gods then held a meeting and decided to protect him from every danger. The goddess Frigg made everything—fire and water, iron and all metals, stones, earth, trees, illnesses, poisons, and all animals, birds, and creeping things—swear an oath not to harm Balder. After this, Balder was thought to be invulnerable, so the gods entertained themselves by placing him in their midst while some shot arrows at him, others struck him with weapons, and others threw stones. But no matter what they did, nothing could hurt him, and everyone was happy about it. Only Loki, the troublemaker, was upset, so he disguised himself as an old woman and approached Frigg, who told him that the gods' weapons could not injure Balder, as she had made them all swear not to do so. Then Loki asked, "Has everything sworn to protect Balder?" She replied, "East of Walhalla, there's a plant called mistletoe; it looked too young to swear." So Loki went and picked the mistletoe and took it to the gathering of the gods. There, he found the blind god Hother standing outside the circle. Loki asked him, "Why don’t you take a shot at Balder?" Hother replied, "Because I can't see where [pg 102] he is; also, I don't have any weapon." Then Loki said, "Just like the others, show Balder the respect he deserves. I’ll let you know where he is, and you can take a shot at him with this stick." Hother took the mistletoe and threw it at Balder as Loki instructed. The mistletoe struck Balder and pierced him completely, causing him to fall down dead. That was the greatest misfortune that ever happened to gods and men. For a while, the gods were speechless, then they cried out and wept bitterly. They took Balder's body and brought it to the shore. There was Balder's ship, called Ringhorn, the largest of all ships. The gods wanted to launch the ship and burn Balder's body on it, but the ship wouldn’t budge. So they called for a giantess named Hyrrockin. She arrived riding a wolf and gave the ship such a shove that sparks flew from the rollers and the earth trembled. Then Balder's body was placed on the funeral pyre on his ship. When his wife Nanna saw this, her heart broke from grief, and she died. So she was laid on the pyre with her husband, and the fire was set to it. Balder's horse was also burned on the pyre, along with all its gear.256

The Story of Balder in the olden days Edda.

In the older or poetic Edda the tragic tale of Balder is hinted at rather than told at length. Among the visions which the Norse Sibyl sees and describes in the weird prophecy known as the Voluspa is one of the fatal mistletoe. “I behold,” says she, “Fate looming for Balder, Woden's son, the bloody victim. There stands the Mistletoe slender and delicate, blooming high above the ground. Out of this shoot, so slender to look on, there shall grow a harmful fateful shaft. Hod shall shoot it, but Frigga in Fen-hall shall weep over the woe of Wal-hall.”257 Yet looking far into [pg 103] the future the Sibyl sees a brighter vision of a new heaven and a new earth, where the fields unsown shall yield their increase and all sorrows shall be healed; then Balder will come back to dwell in Odin's mansions of bliss, in a hall brighter than the sun, shingled with gold, where the righteous shall live in joy for ever more.258

In the older or poetic Edda, the tragic story of Balder is suggested rather than elaborated on. Among the visions that the Norse Sibyl sees and describes in the eerie prophecy known as the Voluspa, there’s one about the fateful mistletoe. "Got it," she says, “Fate is closing in on Balder, Woden's son, the bloody sacrifice. There stands the slender, delicate Mistletoe, blooming high above the ground. From this fragile shoot will come a deadly, fateful arrow. Hod will shoot it, but Frigga in Fen-hall will mourn the sorrow of Wal-hall.”257 Yet, gazing far into [pg 103] the future, the Sibyl sees a brighter vision of a new heaven and a new earth, where the untilled fields will yield their harvest, and all grief will be healed; then Balder will return to live in Odin's halls of joy, in a hall brighter than the sun, covered in gold, where the righteous will live in happiness forever. 258

The story of Balder as told by Saxo Grammaticus.

Writing about the end of the twelfth century, the old Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus tells the story of Balder in a form which professes to be historical. According to him, Balder and Hother were rival suitors for the hand of Nanna, daughter of Gewar, King of Norway. Now Balder was a demigod and common steel could not wound his sacred body. The two rivals encountered each other in a terrific battle, and though Odin and Thor and the rest of the gods fought for Balder, yet was he defeated and fled away, and Hother married the princess. Nevertheless Balder took heart of grace and again met Hother in a stricken field. But he fared even worse than before; for Hother dealt him a deadly wound with a magic sword, which he had received from Miming, the Satyr of the woods; and after lingering three days in pain Balder died of his hurt and was buried with royal honours in a barrow.259

Writing about the end of the twelfth century, the old Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus tells the story of Balder in a way that seems historical. According to him, Balder and Hother were competing suitors for the hand of Nanna, daughter of Gewar, King of Norway. Balder was a demigod, and regular steel couldn't harm his sacred body. The two rivals faced off in a fierce battle, and even though Odin, Thor, and the other gods fought for Balder, he was defeated and fled, allowing Hother to marry the princess. However, Balder found courage and confronted Hother again on a battlefield. But things went even worse for him this time; Hother struck him a fatal blow with a magical sword he had received from Miming, the Satyr of the woods. After suffering in pain for three days, Balder died from his injury and was buried with royal honors in a mound. 259

[pg 104]

Balder worshiped in Norway.

Whether he was a real or merely a mythical personage, Balder was worshipped in Norway. On one of the bays of the beautiful Sogne Fiord, which penetrates far into the depths of the solemn Norwegian mountains, with their sombre pine-forests and their lofty cascades dissolving into spray before they reach the dark water of the fiord far below, Balder had a great sanctuary. It was called Balder's Grove. A palisade enclosed the hallowed ground, and within it stood a spacious temple with the images of many gods, but none of them was worshipped with such devotion as Balder. So great was the awe with which the heathen regarded the place that no man might harm another there, nor steal his cattle, nor defile himself with women. But women cared for the images of the gods in the temple; they warmed them at the fire, anointed them with oil, and dried them with cloths.260

Whether he was a real person or just a mythical figure, Balder was worshipped in Norway. On one of the bays of the beautiful Sogne Fjord, which stretches deep into the majestic Norwegian mountains, filled with dark pine forests and tall waterfalls that dissolve into mist before reaching the dark waters of the fjord below, Balder had a great sanctuary. It was called Balder's Grove. A fence surrounded the sacred ground, and inside stood a spacious temple with images of many gods, but none were worshipped with as much devotion as Balder. The respect that the pagans had for the site was so intense that no one was allowed to harm another there, steal livestock, or engage in inappropriate behavior. However, women took care of the images of the gods in the temple; they warmed them by the fire, anointed them with oil, and dried them with cloths.260

The legendary death of Balder is similar to the legendary death of the Persian hero Isfendiyar in Firdusi's epic.

It might be rash to affirm that the romantic figure of Balder was nothing but a creation of the mythical fancy, a radiant phantom conjured up as by a wizard's wand to glitter for a time against the gloomy background of the stern Norwegian landscape. It may be so; yet it is also possible that the myth was founded on the tradition of a hero, popular and beloved in his lifetime, who long survived in the memory of the people, gathering more and more of the marvellous about him as he passed from generation to generation of story-tellers. At all events it is worth while to observe that a somewhat similar story is told of another national hero, who may well have been a real man. In his great poem, The Epic of Kings, which is founded on Persian traditions, the poet Firdusi tells us that in the combat between Rustem and Isfendiyar the arrows of the former did no harm to his adversary, “because Zerdusht had charmed his body against all dangers, so that it was like unto brass.” But Simurgh, the bird of God, shewed Rustem the way he should follow in order to vanquish his redoubtable foe. He rode after her, and they halted not till they came to the sea-shore. There she led him into a garden, where grew a [pg 105] tamarisk, tall and strong, and the roots thereof were in the ground, but the branches pierced even unto the sky. Then the bird of God bade Rustem break from the tree a branch that was long and slender, and fashion it into an arrow, and she said, “Only through his eyes can Isfendiyar be wounded. If, therefore, thou wouldst slay him, direct this arrow unto his forehead, and verily it shall not miss its aim.” Rustem did as he was bid; and when next he fought with Isfendiyar, he shot the arrow at him, and it pierced his eye, and he died. Great was the mourning for Isfendiyar. For the space of one year men ceased not to lament for him, and for many years they shed bitter tears for that arrow, and they said, “The glory of Iran hath been laid low.”261

It might be hasty to say that the romantic image of Balder was simply a figment of imagination, a bright illusion created like magic to shine for a moment against the dark backdrop of the harsh Norwegian landscape. It could be true; however, it’s also possible that the myth was based on the legend of a hero, well-liked and admired during his life, who continued to be remembered by the people, accumulating more and more extraordinary tales about him as he was retold through generations of storytellers. In any case, it’s interesting to note that a somewhat similar story is told about another national hero, who might have been a real person. In his epic poem, The Epic of Kings, which draws from Persian traditions, the poet Firdusi recounts that during the battle between Rustem and Isfendiyar, Rustem’s arrows did not harm his opponent, "because Zerdusht had protected his body from all dangers, making it as tough as brass." But Simurgh, the divine bird, showed Rustem how he should proceed to defeat his formidable enemy. He followed her, and they did not stop until they reached the seashore. There, she led him into a garden where there grew a [pg 105] tall and strong tamarisk tree, with its roots firmly in the ground, but its branches reached high into the sky. Then the divine bird instructed Rustem to break off a long, slender branch from the tree and make it into an arrow, saying, "The only way to hurt Isfendiyar is through his eyes. If you want to kill him, shoot this arrow at his forehead, and it will definitely hit." Rustem followed her instructions; when he next fought Isfendiyar, he shot the arrow at him, piercing his eye, and he died. There was great mourning for Isfendiyar. For an entire year, people did not stop grieving for him, and for many years they shed bitter tears over that arrow, saying, "The greatness of Iran has been diminished."261

The myth of Balder was likely performed as a magical ceremony. The two main events of the myth, which are the pulling of the mistletoe and the death and burning of the god, probably have parallels in popular rituals.

Whatever may be thought of an historical kernel underlying a mythical husk in the legend of Balder, the details of the story suggest that it belongs to that class of myths which have been dramatized in ritual, or, to put it otherwise, which have been performed as magical ceremonies for the sake of producing those natural effects which they describe in figurative language. A myth is never so graphic and precise in its details as when it is, so to speak, the book of the words which are spoken and acted by the performers of the sacred rite. That the Norse story of Balder was a myth of this sort will become probable if we can prove that ceremonies resembling the incidents in the tale have been performed by Norsemen and other European peoples. Now the main incidents in the tale are two—first, the pulling of the mistletoe, and second, the death and burning of the god; and both of them may perhaps be found to have had their counterparts in yearly rites observed, whether separately or conjointly, by people in various parts of Europe. These rites will be described and discussed in the following chapters. We shall begin with the annual festivals of fire and shall reserve the pulling of the mistletoe for consideration later on.

Whatever you think about the historical core of the myth surrounding Balder, the details of the story indicate that it belongs to a category of myths that have been acted out in rituals, or, to put it another way, that have been performed as magical ceremonies aimed at creating the natural effects they describe in figurative language. A myth is never as vivid and precise in its details as when it serves, so to speak, as the script for the words spoken and actions performed by those carrying out the sacred rite. It will seem likely that the Norse story of Balder is this type of myth if we can show that ceremonies similar to the events in the tale have been carried out by Norse people and other Europeans. The main events in the tale are two: first, the gathering of mistletoe, and second, the death and cremation of the god; and both may have counterparts in yearly rituals performed, whether separately or together, by people in different parts of Europe. These rituals will be described and discussed in the following chapters. We will start with the annual fire festivals and will address the gathering of mistletoe later on.

[pg 106]

Chapter IV. The Fire Festivals of Europe.

The Lenten Fires.

European tradition of lighting bonfires on specific days of the year, dancing around them, and jumping over them. Effigies are sometimes burned in the fires.

All over Europe the peasants have been accustomed from time immemorial to kindle bonfires on certain days of the year, and to dance round or leap over them. Customs of this kind can be traced back on historical evidence to the Middle Ages,262 and their analogy to similar customs observed in antiquity goes with strong internal evidence to prove that their origin must be sought in a period long prior to the spread of Christianity. Indeed the earliest proof of their observance in Northern Europe is furnished by the attempts made by Christian synods in the eighth century to put them down as heathenish rites.263 Not uncommonly effigies are burned in these fires, or a pretence is made of burning a living person in them; and there are grounds for believing that anciently human beings were actually burned on these occasions. A general survey of the customs in question will bring out the traces of human sacrifice, and will serve at the same time to throw light on their meaning.264

All over Europe, the peasants have long been in the habit of lighting bonfires on certain days of the year, and dancing around or jumping over them. Historical evidence traces these customs back to the Middle Ages, and their similarity to customs observed in ancient times strongly suggests that their roots can be found in a period well before the spread of Christianity. In fact, the earliest evidence of their practice in Northern Europe comes from attempts by Christian synods in the eighth century to eliminate them as pagan rituals. Often, effigies are burned in these fires, or there is a charade of burning a living person; there are reasons to believe that in ancient times actual human beings were sacrificed on these occasions. A general look at these traditions will reveal traces of human sacrifice and help clarify their significance.

Times of the year when the bonfires are lit.

The seasons of the year when these bonfires are most commonly lit are spring and midsummer; but in some places they are kindled also at the end of autumn or during the [pg 107] course of the winter, particularly on Hallow E'en (the thirty-first of October), Christmas Day, and the Eve of Twelfth Day. We shall consider them in the order in which they occur in the calendar year. The earliest of them is the winter festival of the Eve of Twelfth Day (the fifth of January); but as it has been already described in an earlier part of this work265 we shall pass it over here and begin with the fire-festivals of spring, which usually fall on the first Sunday of Lent (Quadragesima or Invocavit),266 Easter Eve, and May Day.

The times of year when these bonfires are most often lit are spring and midsummer; however, in some places, they are also started at the end of autumn or during the [pg 107] winter months, especially on Halloween (October 31), Christmas Day, and the evening of Twelfth Night. We will look at them in the order they appear in the calendar year. The first of these is the winter festival on the eve of Twelfth Night (January 5); however, since this has already been described earlier in this work265, we will skip it and begin with the fire festivals of spring, which usually occur on the first Sunday of Lent (Lent or Invocavit),266 Easter Eve, and May Day.

Tradition of lighting bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in the Belgian Ardennes.

The custom of kindling bonfires on the first Sunday in Lent has prevailed in Belgium, the north of France, and many parts of Germany. Thus in the Belgian Ardennes for a week or a fortnight before the “day of the great fire,” as it is called, children go about from farm to farm collecting fuel. At Grand Halleux any one who refuses their request is pursued next day by the children, who try to blacken his face with the ashes of the extinct fire. When the day has come, they cut down bushes, especially juniper and broom, and in the evening great bonfires blaze on all the heights. It is a common saying that seven bonfires should be seen if the village is to be safe from conflagrations. If the Meuse happens to be frozen hard at the time, bonfires are lit also on the ice. At Grand Halleux they set up a pole called makral, or “the witch,” in the midst of the pile, and the fire is kindled by the man who was last married in the village. In the neighbourhood of Morlanwelz a straw man is burnt in the fire. Young people and children dance and sing round the bonfires, and leap over the embers to secure good crops or a happy marriage within the year, or as a means of guarding themselves against colic. In Brabant on the same Sunday, down to the beginning of the nineteenth century, women and men disguised in female attire used to go with burning torches to the fields, where they danced and sang comic songs for the purpose, as they alleged, of driving away “the wicked sower,” who is mentioned in the Gospel for the day. At Maeseyck and in many villages of Limburg, [pg 108] on the evening of the day children run through the streets carrying lighted torches; then they kindle little fires of straw in the fields and dance round them. At Ensival old folks tell young folks that they will have as many Easter eggs as they see bonfires on this day.267 At Pâturages, in the province of Hainaut, down to about 1840 the custom was observed under the name of Escouvion or Scouvion. Every year on the first Sunday of Lent, which was called the Day of the Little Scouvion, young folks and children used to run with lighted torches through the gardens and orchards. As they ran they cried at the pitch of their voices,

The tradition of lighting bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent has been common in Belgium, northern France, and several areas in Germany. In the Belgian Ardennes, for a week or two leading up to the “Great Fire Day,” children visit farms gathering firewood. In Grand Halleux, anyone who turns them down is chased the next day by the children, who try to smear his face with ashes from the extinguished fire. When the day arrives, they cut down brush, especially juniper and broom, and by evening, large bonfires are set ablaze on the hilltops. There's a saying that seven bonfires must be visible for the village to be protected from fires. If the Meuse River is completely frozen at that time, bonfires are also lit on the ice. In Grand Halleux, a pole called makral, or "the witch," is set up in the center of the bonfire pile, and the fire is lit by the man who was the last to marry in the village. Near Morlanwelz, a straw figure is burned in the fire. Young people and children dance and sing around the bonfires, jumping over the embers to ensure good harvests, a happy marriage in the coming year, or to protect themselves against colic. In Brabant, on the same Sunday, up until the early 1800s, men dressed in women’s clothing used to go into the fields with burning torches, dancing and singing funny songs, claiming it was to drive away "the evil sower," mentioned in that day’s Gospel. In Maeseyck and various villages in Limburg, on the evening of that day, children run through the streets carrying lit torches, then they start small straw fires in the fields and dance around them. In Ensival, older folks tell the younger ones that they will receive as many Easter eggs as they see bonfires on this day.267 In Pâturages, Hainaut province, until about 1840, the tradition was celebrated under the name Escouvion or Scouvion. Each year on the first Sunday of Lent, called the Day of the Little Scouvion, young people and children would run through gardens and orchards with lit torches, shouting at the top of their lungs,

“Bear apples, bear pears”
And all-black cherries
To Scouvion!

At these words the torch-bearer whirled his blazing brand and hurled it among the branches of the apple-trees, the pear-trees, and the cherry-trees. The next Sunday was called the Day of the Great Scouvion, and the same race with lighted torches among the trees of the orchards was repeated in the afternoon till darkness fell. The same custom was observed on the same two days at Wasmes.268 In the neighbourhood of Liège, where the Lenten fires were put down by the police about the middle of the nineteenth century, girls thought that by leaping over the fires without being smirched they made sure of a happy marriage. Elsewhere in order to get a good husband it was necessary to see seven of the bonfires from one spot. In Famenne, a district of Namur, men and cattle who traversed the Lenten fires were thought to be safe from sickness and witchcraft. Anybody who saw seven such fires at once had nothing to fear from sorcerers. An old saying ran, that if you do not light “the great fire,” God will light it for you; which seems to imply that the kindling of the bonfires was deemed a protection against conflagrations throughout the year.269

At these words, the torchbearer spun his flaming torch and threw it into the branches of the apple, pear, and cherry trees. The following Sunday was named the Day of the Great Scouvion, and the same race with lit torches among the orchard trees was repeated in the afternoon until darkness fell. The same tradition was observed on those two days in Wasmes. In the area around Liège, where the Lenten fires were banned by the police in the mid-nineteenth century, girls believed that jumping over the fires without getting dirty assured them of a happy marriage. In other places, to secure a good husband, one needed to see seven bonfires from a single spot. In Famenne, a region of Namur, men and livestock who crossed the Lenten fires were thought to be protected from illness and witchcraft. Anyone who saw seven such fires at once had no fear of sorcerers. An old saying claimed that if you do not light “the Great Fire,” God will light it for you; suggesting that starting the bonfires was considered a safeguard against fires throughout the year.

[pg 109]

Bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in the French region of Ardennes.

In the French department of the Ardennes the whole village used to dance and sing round the bonfires which were lighted on the first Sunday in Lent. Here, too, it was the person last married, sometimes a man and sometimes a woman, who put the match to the fire. The custom is still kept up very commonly in the district. Cats used to be burnt in the fire or roasted to death by being held over it; and while they were burning the shepherds drove their flocks through the smoke and flames as a sure means of guarding them against sickness and witchcraft. In some communes it was believed that the livelier the dance round the fire, the better would be the crops that year.270 In the Vosges Mountains it is still customary to light great fires on the heights and around the villages on the first Sunday in Lent; and at Rupt and elsewhere the right of kindling them belongs to the person who was last married. Round the fires the people dance and sing merrily till the flames have died out. Then the master of the fire, as they call the man who kindled it, invites all who contributed to the erection of the pile to follow him to the nearest tavern, where they partake of good cheer. At Dommartin they say that, if you would have the hemp tall, it is absolutely necessary that the women should be tipsy on the evening of this day.271 At Épinal in the Vosges, on the first Sunday in Lent, bonfires used to be kindled at various places both in the town and on the banks of the Moselle. They consisted of pyramids of sticks and faggots, which had been collected some days earlier by young folks going from door to door. When the flames blazed up, the names of various couples, whether young or old, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, were called out, and the persons thus linked in mock marriage were forced, whether they liked it or not, to march arm in arm round the fire amid the laughter and jests of the crowd. The festivity lasted till the fire died out, and then the spectators dispersed through the streets, stopping under the windows of the houses and proclaiming the names of the [pg 110] féchenots and féchenottes or Valentines whom the popular voice had assigned to each other. These couples had to exchange presents; the mock bridegroom gave his mock bride something for her toilet, while she in turn presented him with a cockade of coloured ribbon. Next Sunday, if the weather allowed it, all the couples, arrayed in their best attire and attended by their relations, repaired to the wood of Saint Antony, where they mounted a famous stone called the danserosse or danseresse. Here they found cakes and refreshments of all sorts, and danced to the music of a couple of fiddlers. The evening bell, ringing the Angelus, gave the signal to depart. As soon as its solemn chime was heard, every one quitted the forest and returned home. The exchange of presents between the Valentines went by the name of ransom or redemption (rachat), because it was supposed to redeem the couple from the flames of the bonfire. Any pair who failed thus to ransom themselves were not suffered to share the merrymaking at the great stone in the forest; and a pretence was made of burning them in small fires kindled before their own doors.272

In the French department of the Ardennes, the entire village used to dance and sing around bonfires that were lit on the first Sunday in Lent. It was traditionally the person who was last married, sometimes a man and sometimes a woman, who would ignite the fire. This custom is still commonly observed in the area. Cats were sometimes burned in the fire or roasted to death by being held over it; while they burned, shepherds drove their flocks through the smoke and flames as a way to protect them from illness and witchcraft. In some communities, it was believed that the more lively the dance around the fire, the better the crops would be that year. In the Vosges Mountains, it’s still a tradition to light large fires on the hills and around the villages on the first Sunday in Lent; in places like Rupt, the right to light them belongs to the person who was last married. People dance and sing joyfully around the fires until the flames go out. Then, the "master of the fire," as they call the person who started it, invites everyone who helped build the fire to follow him to the nearest tavern for some refreshments. In Dommartin, they say that to have tall hemp, it’s absolutely necessary for the women to be a bit tipsy on that evening. In Épinal, on the first Sunday in Lent, bonfires used to be lit at various spots in the town and along the Moselle River. These bonfires were made of piles of sticks and twigs gathered a few days earlier by young people going from door to door. When the flames flared up, names of different couples, whether they were young or old, attractive or unattractive, rich or poor, were called out, and those named were playfully forced to walk arm in arm around the fire while the crowd laughed and joked. The festivities went on until the fire went out, and then the crowd would disperse through the streets, stopping under windows to announce the names of the “féchenots” and “féchenottes” or Valentines that the community had paired up. These couples had to exchange gifts; the mock bridegroom would give his mock bride something for her vanity, while she would gift him a cockade made of colorful ribbons. The next Sunday, if the weather was good, all the couples, dressed in their finest clothes and accompanied by family, would head to the wood of Saint Antony, where they would stand on a famous stone called the “danserosse” or “danseresse.” There they would find cakes and refreshments of all kinds and dance to the tunes played by a couple of fiddlers. The evening bell, ringing the Angelus, signaled it was time to leave. As soon as its solemn ringing could be heard, everyone would leave the forest and head home. The exchange of gifts between the Valentines was called ransom or redemption (rachat), as it was thought to save the couple from the flames of the bonfire. Any couple that failed to ransom themselves couldn’t partake in the celebrations at the great stone in the forest, and it was pretended that they would be burned in small fires lit outside their own doors.

Bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in Franche-Comté.

In the French province of Franche-Comté, to the west of the Jura Mountains, the first Sunday of Lent is known as the Sunday of the Firebrands (Brandons), on account of the fires which it is customary to kindle on that day. On the Saturday or the Sunday the village lads harness themselves to a cart and drag it about the streets, stopping at the doors of the houses where there are girls and begging for a faggot. When they have got enough, they cart the fuel to a spot at some little distance from the village, pile it up, and set it on fire. All the people of the parish come out to see the bonfire. In some villages, when the bells have rung the Angelus, the signal for the observance is given by cries of, “To the fire! to the fire!” Lads, lasses, and children dance round the blaze, and when the flames have died down they vie with each other in leaping over the red embers. He or she who does so without singeing his or her garments will be married within the year. Young folk also carry lighted torches about the streets or the fields, and when they pass [pg 111] an orchard they cry out, “More fruit than leaves!” Down to recent years at Laviron, in the department of Doubs, it was the young married couples of the year who had charge of the bonfires. In the midst of the bonfire a pole was planted with a wooden figure of a cock fastened to the top. Then there were races, and the winner received the cock as a prize.273

In the French province of Franche-Comté, west of the Jura Mountains, the first Sunday of Lent is called the Sunday of the Firebrands (Brandons) because of the fires that are typically lit on that day. On Saturday or Sunday, the village boys load themselves onto a cart and pull it through the streets, stopping at the houses where there are girls to ask for firewood. Once they have gathered enough, they take the wood to a spot a little way from the village, stack it up, and set it ablaze. Everyone from the parish comes out to watch the bonfire. In some villages, after the bells ring for the Angelus, the signal for the celebration is given with cries of, "To the fire! To the fire!" Boys, girls, and children dance around the fire, and when the flames die down, they compete to jump over the glowing embers. Whoever succeeds without burning their clothes is said to be getting married within the year. Young people also carry lit torches around the streets or fields, and when they pass an orchard, they shout, “More fruit than foliage!” Up until recent years in Laviron, in the Doubs department, it was the newly married couples of the year who managed the bonfires. In the middle of the bonfire, a pole was planted with a wooden figure of a rooster attached to the top. Then there were races, and the winner received the rooster as a prize.273

Bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in Auvergne. The Granno called upon at these bonfires may be the ancient Celtic god Grannus, who was associated with Apollo.

In Auvergne fires are everywhere kindled on the evening of the first Sunday in Lent. Every village, every hamlet, even every ward, every isolated farm has its bonfire or figo, as it is called, which blazes up as the shades of night are falling. The fires may be seen flaring on the heights and in the plains; the people dance and sing round about them and leap through the flames. Then they proceed to the ceremony of the Grannas-mias. A granno-mio274 is a torch of straw fastened to the top of a pole. When the pyre is half consumed, the bystanders kindle the torches at the expiring flames and carry them into the neighbouring orchards, fields, and gardens, wherever there are fruit-trees. As they march they sing at the top of their voices,

In Auvergne, fires are lit everywhere on the evening of the first Sunday in Lent. Every village, every small community, even every neighborhood and every isolated farm has its bonfire or figo, as it's called, that blazes up as night falls. The fires can be seen flickering on the hills and in the plains; people dance and sing around them and jump through the flames. Then they move on to the ceremony of the Grannas-mias. A granno-mio274 is a torch made of straw attached to the top of a pole. When the bonfire is half burned down, the onlookers light the torches from the dying flames and carry them into nearby orchards, fields, and gardens, wherever there are fruit trees. As they walk, they sing at the top of their lungs,

“Granno, my dear,”
Granno, my dear,
Granno, move now!

that is, “Grannus my friend, Grannus my father, Grannus my mother.” Then they pass the burning torches under the branches of every tree, singing,

that is, “Grannus, my friend, Grannus, my father, Grannus, my mother.” Then they pass the burning torches under the branches of every tree, singing,

“Brando, brandounci”
Tsaque brantso, in plan panei!
[pg 112]

that is, “Firebrand burn; every branch a basketful!” In some villages the people also run across the sown fields and shake the ashes of the torches on the ground; also they put some of the ashes in the fowls' nests, in order that the hens may lay plenty of eggs throughout the year. When all these ceremonies have been performed, everybody goes home and feasts; the special dishes of the evening are fritters and pancakes.275 Here the application of the fire to the fruit-trees, to the sown fields, and to the nests of the poultry is clearly a charm intended to ensure fertility; and the Granno to whom the invocations are addressed, and who gives his name to the torches, may possibly be, as Dr. Pommerol suggests,276 no other than the ancient Celtic god Grannus, whom the Romans identified with Apollo, and whose worship is attested by inscriptions found not only in France but in Scotland and on the Danube.277 If the name Grannus is derived, as the learned tell us, from a root meaning “to glow, burn, shine,”278 the deity who bore the name and was identified with Apollo may well have been a sun-god; and in that case the prayers addressed to him by the peasants of the Auvergne, while they wave the blazing, crackling torches about the fruit-trees, would be eminently appropriate. For who could ripen the fruit so well as the sun-god? and what better process could be devised to draw the blossoms from the bare boughs than the application to them of that genial warmth which is ultimately derived from the solar beams? Thus the fire-festival of the first Sunday in Lent, as it is observed in Auvergne, may be interpreted very naturally and simply as a religious or rather perhaps magical ceremony designed to procure a due supply of the sun's heat for plants and animals. At the same time we should remember that the employment of fire in this and kindred ceremonies may have been designed originally, not so much to stimulate growth and reproduction, as to burn and destroy all agencies, [pg 113] whether in the shape of vermin, witches, or what not, which threatened or were supposed to threaten the growth of the crops and the multiplication of animals. It is often difficult to decide between these two different interpretations of the use of fire in agricultural rites. In any case the fire-festival of Auvergne on the first Sunday in Lent may date from Druidical times.

that is, “Let the fire burn; every branch is a basketful!” In some villages, people run through the planted fields and shake the ashes from the torches onto the ground. They also put some of the ashes in the hens' nests so that the chickens will lay lots of eggs throughout the year. Once all these ceremonies are done, everyone goes home and celebrates; the special foods for the evening are fritters and pancakes.275 Here, applying fire to the fruit trees, the planted fields, and the poultry nests clearly serves as a charm meant to ensure fertility; and the Granno to whom these invocations are directed, and who lends his name to the torches, could possibly be, as Dr. Pommerol suggests,276 none other than the ancient Celtic god Grannus, whom the Romans associated with Apollo, and whose worship is documented by inscriptions found not only in France but also in Scotland and along the Danube.277 If the name Grannus comes, as scholars tell us, from a root that means “to glow, burn, shine,”278 the deity with that name, identified with Apollo, might have been a sun god; and in that case, the prayers spoken to him by the peasants of Auvergne while they wave the blazing, crackling torches around the fruit trees would be extremely fitting. Who could ripen fruit as well as the sun god? And what better way to encourage blossoms from the bare branches than by applying that warm glow which ultimately comes from the sun's rays? Thus, the fire festival on the first Sunday in Lent, as it is celebrated in Auvergne, can be easily and naturally interpreted as a religious or perhaps even a magical ceremony aimed at ensuring an adequate supply of the sun’s warmth for plants and animals. At the same time, we should keep in mind that using fire in this and similar ceremonies may have originally been intended not just to stimulate growth and reproduction, but also to burn away and eliminate any threats—[pg 113] whether in the form of pests, witches, or whatever—that were believed to threaten crop growth and the breeding of animals. It's often tough to choose between these two different interpretations of fire’s role in agricultural rituals. In any event, the fire festival in Auvergne on the first Sunday in Lent could date back to Druidic times.

The French tradition of holding lit torchesbrandonsabout the orchards and fields to fertilize them on the first Sunday of Lent.

The custom of carrying lighted torches of straw (brandons) about the orchards and fields to fertilize them on the first Sunday of Lent seems to have been common in France, whether it was accompanied with the practice of kindling bonfires or not. Thus in the province of Picardy “on the first Sunday of Lent people carried torches through the fields, exorcising the field-mice, the darnel, and the smut. They imagined that they did much good to the gardens and caused the onions to grow large. Children ran about the fields, torch in hand, to make the land more fertile. All that was done habitually in Picardy, and the ceremony of the torches is not entirely forgotten, especially in the villages on both sides the Somme as far as Saint-Valery.”279 “A very agreeable spectacle, said the curate of l'Étoile, is to survey from the portal of the church, situated almost on the top of the mountain, the vast plains of Vimeux all illuminated by these wandering fires. The same pastime is observed at Poix, at Conty, and in all the villages round about.”280 Again, in the district of Beauce a festival of torches (brandons or brandelons) used to be held both on the first and on the second Sunday in Lent; the first was called “the Great Torches” and the second “the Little Torches.” The torches were, as usual, bundles of straw wrapt round poles. In the evening the village lads carried the burning brands through the country, running about in disorder and singing,

The tradition of carrying flaming straw torches (brandons) around the orchards and fields to help them grow on the first Sunday of Lent seems to have been popular in France, whether it involved lighting bonfires or not. In the Picardy region, "On the first Sunday of Lent, people carried torches through the fields to scare away field mice, weeds, and mold. They believed they were benefiting the gardens and helping the onions grow large. Children ran around the fields with torches to make the land more fertile. This was a common practice in Picardy, and the torch ceremony isn't entirely forgotten, especially in the villages on both sides of the Somme all the way to Saint-Valery."279 "A really nice view, said the curate of l'Étoile, is to look from the church entrance, which is almost at the top of the mountain, over the wide Vimeux plains illuminated by these drifting lights. The same celebration takes place in Poix, Conty, and all the nearby villages."280 In the Beauce area, a torch festival ( or brandelons) was held on both the first and second Sundays of Lent; the first was known as “the Great Torches” and the second as “the Little Torches.” The torches were, as usual, bundles of straw wrapped around poles. In the evening, the village boys carried the burning torches through the countryside, running around chaotically and singing,

“Torches burn”
At these vines, at this wheat;
Torches light up
For the brides that will marry!

From time to time the bearers would stand still and smite [pg 114] the earth all together with the blazing straw of the torches, while they cried, “A sheaf of a peck and a half!” (Gearbe à boissiaux). If two torchbearers happened to meet each other on their rounds, they performed the same ceremony and uttered the same words. When the straw was burnt out, the poles were collected and a great bonfire made of them. Lads and lasses danced round the flames, and the lads leaped over them. Afterwards it was customary to eat a special sort of hasty-pudding made of wheaten flour. These usages were still in vogue at the beginning of the nineteenth century, but they have now almost disappeared. The peasants believed that by carrying lighted torches through the fields they protected the crops from field-mice, darnel, and smut.281 “At Dijon, in Burgundy, it is the custom upon the first Sunday in Lent to make large fires in the streets, whence it is called Firebrand Sunday. This practice originated in the processions formerly made on that day by the peasants with lighted torches of straw, to drive away, as they called it, the bad air from the earth.”282 In some parts of France, while the people scoured the country with burning brands on the first Sunday in Lent, they warned the fruit-trees that if they did not take heed and bear fruit they would surely be cut down and cast into the fire.283 On the same day peasants in the department of Loiret used to run about the sowed fields with burning torches in their hands, while they adjured the field-mice to quit the wheat on pain of having their whiskers burned.284 In the department of Ain the great fires of straw and faggots which are kindled in the fields at this time are or were supposed to destroy the nests of the caterpillars.285 At Verges, a lonely village surrounded by forests between the Jura and the Combe d'Ain, the torches used at this season were kindled in [pg 115] a peculiar manner. The young people climbed to the top of a mountain, where they placed three nests of straw in three trees. These nests being then set on fire, torches made of dry lime-wood were lighted at them, and the merry troop descended the mountain to their flickering light, and went to every house in the village, demanding roasted peas and obliging all couples who had been married within the year to dance.286 In Berry, a district of central France, it appears that bonfires are not lighted on this day, but when the sun has set the whole population of the villages, armed with blazing torches of straw, disperse over the country and scour the fields, the vineyards, and the orchards. Seen from afar, the multitude of moving lights, twinkling in the darkness, appear like will-o'-the-wisps chasing each other across the plains, along the hillsides, and down the valleys. While the men wave their flambeaus about the branches of the fruit-trees, the women and children tie bands of wheaten-straw round the tree-trunks. The effect of the ceremony is supposed to be to avert the various plagues from which the fruits of the earth are apt to suffer; and the bands of straw fastened round the stems of the trees are believed to render them fruitful.287 In the peninsula of La Manche the Norman peasants used to spend almost the whole night of the first Sunday in Lent rushing about the country with lighted torches for the purpose, as they supposed, of driving away the moles and field-mice; fires were also kindled on some of the dolmens.288

From time to time, the bearers would stop and hit the ground together with the blazing straw from the torches while calling out, "A bundle of a peck and a half!" (Wooden gear). If two torchbearers met during their rounds, they would perform the same ceremony and say the same words. Once the straw was burnt out, they collected the poles and built a large bonfire with them. Young men and women danced around the flames, and the guys leaped over them. Later, it became a tradition to eat a special type of hasty-pudding made from wheat flour. These customs were still common at the start of the nineteenth century, but they have now nearly vanished. The peasants believed that by carrying lit torches through the fields, they were protecting the crops from field mice, darnel, and smut.281 "In Dijon, Burgundy, it's a tradition on the first Sunday of Lent to light big bonfires in the streets, which is why it’s called Firebrand Sunday. This practice comes from the processions that peasants would hold on that day, carrying lit straw torches to drive away, as they believed, the bad air from the ground."282 In some regions of France, while people roamed the countryside with burning torches on the first Sunday of Lent, they warned the fruit trees that if they didn’t take care and bear fruit, they would be cut down and thrown into the fire.283 On the same day, peasants in the department of Loiret would run around the sowed fields holding burning torches, while telling the field mice to leave the wheat or face having their whiskers burned.284 In the department of Ain, the large straw and brush fires lit in the fields during this time were believed to destroy caterpillar nests.285 In Verges, a remote village surrounded by forests between the Jura and the Combe d'Ain, the torches used during this season were lit in a unique way. The young people would climb to the top of a mountain and place three straw nests in three trees. After setting the nests on fire, they lit torches made of dry lime wood from them and happily descended the mountain to their flickering light, going to every house in the village to ask for roasted peas and to make all couples married within the year dance.286 In Berry, a region of central France, it seems that bonfires are not lit on this day, but when the sun sets, the entire village population, armed with flaming straw torches, spreads out over the countryside, scouring the fields, vineyards, and orchards. From a distance, the swarm of moving lights twinkling in the darkness looks like will-o'-the-wisps chasing each other across the plains, along the hills, and down into the valleys. While the men wave their torches around the branches of the fruit trees, the women and children tie bands of wheat straw around the tree trunks. The purpose of the ceremony is believed to be to protect the various plagues that can affect the earth's fruits, and the straw bands tied around the trees are thought to make them fruitful.287 In the La Manche peninsula, Norman peasants used to spend almost the entire night of the first Sunday in Lent running around the countryside with lighted torches, thinking they were driving away moles and field mice; fires were also lit on some of the dolmens.288

Bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in Germany and Austria. “Burning the witch.”Discs on fire tossed into the air. Fiery wheels rolling down the hill.

In Germany, Austria, and Switzerland at the same season similar customs have prevailed. Thus in the Eifel Mountains, Rhenish Prussia, on the first Sunday in Lent young people used to collect straw and brushwood from house to house. These they carried to an eminence and piled up round a tall, slim beech-tree, to which a piece of wood was fastened at [pg 116] right angles to form a cross. The structure was known as the “hut” or “castle.” Fire was set to it and the young people marched round the blazing “castle” bareheaded, each carrying a lighted torch and praying aloud. Sometimes a straw-man was burned in the “hut.” People observed the direction in which the smoke blew from the fire. If it blew towards the corn-fields, it was a sign that the harvest would be abundant. On the same day, in some parts of the Eifel, a great wheel was made of straw and dragged by three horses to the top of a hill. Thither the village boys marched at nightfall, set fire to the wheel, and sent it rolling down the slope. Two lads followed it with levers to set it in motion again, in case it should anywhere meet with a check. At Oberstattfeld the wheel had to be provided by the young man who was last married.289 About Echternach in Luxemburg the same ceremony is called “burning the witch”; while it is going on, the older men ascend the heights and observe what wind is blowing, for that is the wind which will prevail the whole year.290 At Voralberg in the Tyrol, on the first Sunday in Lent, a slender young fir-tree is surrounded with a pile of straw and firewood. To the top of the tree is fastened a human figure called the “witch,” made of old clothes and stuffed with gunpowder. At night the whole is set on fire and boys and girls dance round it, swinging torches and singing rhymes in which the words “corn in the winnowing-basket, the plough in the earth” may be distinguished.291 In Swabia on the first Sunday in Lent a figure called the “witch” or the “old wife” or “winter's grandmother” is made up of clothes and fastened to a pole. This is stuck in the middle of a pile of wood, to which fire is applied. While the “witch” is burning, the young people throw blazing discs into the air. The discs are thin round pieces of wood, a few inches in diameter, with notched edges to imitate the [pg 117] rays of the sun or stars. They have a hole in the middle, by which they are attached to the end of a wand. Before the disc is thrown it is set on fire, the wand is swung to and fro, and the impetus thus communicated to the disc is augmented by dashing the rod sharply against a sloping board. The burning disc is thus thrown off, and mounting high into the air, describes a long fiery curve before it reaches the ground. A single lad may fling up forty or fifty of these discs, one after the other. The object is to throw them as high as possible. The wand by which they are hurled must, at least in some parts of Swabia, be of hazel. Sometimes the lads also leap over the fire brandishing lighted torches of pine-wood. The charred embers of the burned “witch” and discs are taken home and planted in the flax-fields the same night, in the belief that they will keep vermin from the fields.292 At Wangen, near Molsheim in Baden, a like custom is observed on the first Sunday in Lent. The young people kindle a bonfire on the crest of the mountain above the village; and the burning discs which they hurl into the air are said to present in the darkness the aspect of a continual shower of falling stars. When the supply of discs is exhausted and the bonfire begins to burn low, the boys light torches and run with them at full speed down one or other of the three steep and winding paths that descend the mountain-side to the village. Bumps, bruises, and scratches are often the result of their efforts to outstrip each other in the headlong race.293 In the Rhön Mountains, situated on the borders of Hesse and Bavaria, the people used to march to the top of a hill or eminence on the first Sunday in Lent. Children and lads carried torches, brooms daubed with tar, and poles swathed in straw. A wheel, wrapt in combustibles, was kindled and rolled down [pg 118] the hill; and the young people rushed about the fields with their burning torches and brooms, till at last they flung them in a heap, and standing round them, struck up a hymn or a popular song. The object of running about the fields with the blazing torches was to “drive away the wicked sower.” Or it was done in honour of the Virgin, that she might preserve the fruits of the earth throughout the year and bless them.294 In neighbouring villages of Hesse, between the Rhön and the Vogel Mountains, it is thought that wherever the burning wheels roll, the fields will be safe from hail and storm.295 At Konz on the Moselle, on the Thursday before the first Sunday in Lent, the two guilds of the butchers and the weavers used to repair to the Marxberg and there set up an oak-tree with a wheel fastened to it. On the following Sunday the people ascended the hill, cut down the oak, set fire to the wheel, and sent both oak and wheel rolling down the hillside, while a guard of butchers, mounted on horses, fired at the flaming wheel in its descent. If the wheel rolled down into the Moselle, the butchers were rewarded with a waggon-load of wine by the archbishop of Treves.296

In Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, similar customs have been observed during this season. For instance, in the Eifel Mountains in Rhenish Prussia, on the first Sunday of Lent, young people would go door to door collecting straw and brushwood. They would take these materials to a hilltop and stack them around a tall, slender beech tree, to which a piece of wood was attached at right angles to form a cross. This structure was called the “hut” or “castle.” They would set it on fire, and the young people would march around the blazing “castle” without hats, each holding a lit torch and praying aloud. Sometimes a straw figure was burned inside the “hut.” People watched which way the smoke blew from the fire; if it blew towards the cornfields, it was a sign of an abundant harvest. On the same day in some parts of the Eifel, a large wheel made of straw was pulled by three horses to the top of a hill. The village boys would march up at night, set the wheel on fire, and let it roll down the slope. Two boys would follow it with levers to keep it moving if it slowed down. In Oberstattfeld, the wheel had to be provided by the last young man who was married. In the area around Echternach in Luxembourg, this ceremony is called “burning the witch.” While this is happening, older men would climb up and observe the wind direction, as it would indicate which wind would prevail for the whole year. In Vorarlberg in Tyrol, on the first Sunday of Lent, a slender young fir tree is surrounded by a pile of straw and firewood. At the top of the tree, a human figure called the “witch,” made of old clothes and stuffed with gunpowder, is attached. At night, everything is set on fire, and boys and girls dance around it, waving torches and singing rhymes that include the words “corn in the winnowing-basket, the plough in the earth.” In Swabia, on the first Sunday of Lent, a figure known as the “witch,” “old wife,” or “winter's grandmother” is made from clothes and attached to a pole that is stuck in the middle of a woodpile, which is then lit on fire. While the “witch” burns, the young people toss flaming discs into the air. These discs are thin, round pieces of wood a few inches in diameter, with notched edges to resemble sun or star rays. They have a hole in the middle for attaching them to a stick. Before throwing the disc, it is set on fire, the stick is swung back and forth, and the force is increased by striking the stick against a sloped board. The burning disc is then launched, soaring high into the air and creating a long fiery arc before landing. A single boy may throw up to fifty discs one after the other, aiming to throw them as high as possible. The stick used must, in some parts of Swabia, be made of hazel. Sometimes, the boys also jump over the fire while waving lit torches made of pine wood. The charred remnants of the burned “witch” and discs are taken home and planted in the flax fields that night, with the belief that they will keep pests away. In Wangen, near Molsheim in Baden, a similar tradition occurs on the first Sunday in Lent. The young people light a bonfire on the mountain above the village, and the flaming discs they throw into the air resemble a continuous shower of falling stars in the dark. When the discs run out and the bonfire starts to dim, the boys light torches and race down one of the three steep and winding paths from the mountain to the village. This often leads to bumps, bruises, and scratches as they try to outpace each other. In the Rhön Mountains, on the border of Hesse and Bavaria, people would march to the top of a hill on the first Sunday of Lent, with children and boys carrying torches, tar-soaked brooms, and poles wrapped in straw. A wheel wrapped in flammable materials was lit and rolled down the hill, while the young people ran through the fields with their burning torches and brooms, eventually tossing them into a pile and standing around it to sing a hymn or popular song. The aim of running around with the torches was to “drive away the wicked sower” or to honor the Virgin, asking her to protect the fruits of the earth for the year and bless them. In neighboring villages of Hesse, between the Rhön and Vogel Mountains, it is believed that where the burning wheels roll, the fields will be safe from hail and storms. In Konz on the Moselle, on the Thursday before the first Sunday of Lent, the two guilds of butchers and weavers would go to the Marxberg and set up an oak tree with a wheel attached to it. The following Sunday, the people would climb the hill, cut down the oak, light the wheel on fire, and send both the oak and wheel rolling down the hillside, while a group of butchers on horseback shot at the flaming wheel as it descended. If the wheel reached the Moselle, the butchers were rewarded with a wagon-load of wine from the archbishop of Treves.

Bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in Switzerland. Burning discs tossed into the air.

In Switzerland, also, it is or used to be customary to kindle bonfires on high places on the evening of the first Sunday in Lent, and the day is therefore popularly known as Spark Sunday. The custom prevailed, for example, throughout the canton of Lucerne. Boys went about from house to house begging for wood and straw, then piled the fuel on a conspicuous mountain or hill round about a pole, which bore a straw effigy called “the witch.” At nightfall the pile was set on fire, and the young folks danced wildly round it, some of them cracking whips or ringing bells; and when the fire burned low enough, they leaped over it. This [pg 119] was called “burning the witch.” In some parts of the canton also they used to wrap old wheels in straw and thorns, put a light to them, and send them rolling and blazing down hill. The same custom of rolling lighted wheels down hill is attested by old authorities for the cantons of Aargau and Bâle. The more bonfires could be seen sparkling and flaring in the darkness, the more fruitful was the year expected to be; and the higher the dancers leaped beside or over the fire, the higher, it was thought, would grow the flax. In the district of Freiburg and at Birseck in the district of Bâle it was the last married man or woman who must kindle the bonfire. While the bonfires blazed up, it was customary in some parts of Switzerland to propel burning discs of wood through the air by means of the same simple machinery which is used for the purpose in Swabia. Each lad tried to send his disc fizzing and flaring through the darkness as far as possible, and in discharging it he mentioned the name of the person to whose honour it was dedicated. But in Prättigau the words uttered in launching the fiery discs referred to the abundance which was apparently expected to follow the performance of the ceremony. Among them were, “Grease in the pan, corn in the fan, and the plough in the earth!”297

In Switzerland, it used to be a tradition to light bonfires on high places on the evening of the first Sunday in Lent, which is commonly known as Spark Sunday. This custom took place, for example, throughout the canton of Lucerne. Boys went from house to house asking for wood and straw, then stacked the fuel on a prominent mountain or hill around a pole that held a straw figure known as “the witch.” At nightfall, they lit the pile on fire, and the young people danced energetically around it, some cracking whips or ringing bells; and when the fire burned low enough, they jumped over it. This was called "burning the witch." In some areas of the canton, they also used to wrap old wheels in straw and thorns, set them on fire, and send them rolling and blazing down the hill. The same tradition of rolling lit wheels downhill is documented by old records for the cantons of Aargau and Bâle. The more bonfires that could be seen sparkling and flickering in the dark, the more fruitful the year was expected to be; and the higher the dancers leaped beside or over the fire, the higher, it was believed, the flax would grow. In the district of Freiburg and at Birseck in the district of Bâle, the last married man or woman was responsible for lighting the bonfire. While the bonfires blazed, it was customary in some parts of Switzerland to hurl burning discs of wood through the air using a simple mechanism similar to that used in Swabia. Each boy aimed to send his disc fizzing and flaring through the darkness as far as he could, and when launching it, he would mention the name of the person to whom it was dedicated. However, in Prättigau, the words spoken while launching the fiery discs referred to the abundance that was expected to follow the ceremony. Among them were, "Grease in the pan, corn in the fan, and the plow in the ground!"297

The connection between these bonfires and the tradition of __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ “Executing Death.” Effigies burned on Fat Tuesday.

It seems hardly possible to separate from these bonfires, kindled on the first Sunday in Lent, the fires in which, about the same season, the effigy called Death is burned as part of the ceremony of “carrying out Death.” We have seen that at Spachendorf, in Austrian Silesia, on the morning of Rupert's Day (Shrove Tuesday?), a straw-man, dressed in a fur coat and a fur cap, is laid in a hole outside the village and there burned, and that while it is blazing every one seeks to snatch a fragment of it, which he fastens to a branch of the highest tree in his garden or buries in his field, believing that this will make the crops to grow better. The ceremony is known as the “burying of Death.”298 Even [pg 120] when the straw-man is not designated as Death, the meaning of the observance is probably the same; for the name Death, as I have tried to shew, does not express the original intention of the ceremony. At Cobern in the Eifel Mountains the lads make up a straw-man on Shrove Tuesday. The effigy is formally tried and accused of having perpetrated all the thefts that have been committed in the neighbourhood throughout the year. Being condemned to death, the straw-man is led through the village, shot, and burned upon a pyre. They dance round the blazing pile, and the last bride must leap over it.299 In Oldenburg on the evening of Shrove Tuesday people used to make long bundles of straw, which they set on fire, and then ran about the fields waving them, shrieking, and singing wild songs. Finally they burned a straw-man on the field.300 In the district of Düsseldorf the straw-man burned on Shrove Tuesday was made of an unthreshed sheaf of corn.301 On the first Monday after the spring equinox the urchins of Zurich drag a straw-man on a little cart through the streets, while at the same time the girls carry about a May-tree. When vespers ring, the straw-man is burned.302 In the district of Aachen on Ash Wednesday a man used to be encased in peas-straw and taken to an appointed place. Here he slipped quietly out of his straw casing, which was then burned, the children thinking that it was the man who was being burned.303 In the Val di Ledro (Tyrol) on the last day of the Carnival a figure is made up of straw and brushwood and then burned. The figure is called the Old Woman, and the ceremony “burning the Old Woman.”304

It seems almost impossible to separate from these bonfires, lit on the first Sunday in Lent, the fires in which, around the same time, the effigy known as Death is burned as part of the ceremony of “executing Death.” We have seen that at Spachendorf, in Austrian Silesia, on the morning of Rupert's Day (Shrove Tuesday?), a straw man, dressed in a fur coat and fur cap, is laid in a hole outside the village and burned there. While it is blazing, everyone tries to grab a piece of it, which they hang on a branch of the tallest tree in their garden or bury in their field, believing this will help their crops grow better. The ceremony is known as the "burial of Death."298 Even [pg 120] when the straw man is not specifically labeled as Death, the meaning of the observance is likely the same; because the name Death, as I've tried to explain, does not capture the original intention of the ceremony. In Cobern, in the Eifel Mountains, the boys create a straw man on Shrove Tuesday. The effigy is formally tried and accused of committing all the thefts that have occurred in the neighborhood over the past year. After being found guilty, the straw man is paraded through the village, shot, and burned on a pyre. They dance around the blazing pile, and the last bride must leap over it.299 In Oldenburg, on the evening of Shrove Tuesday, people would make long bundles of straw, light them on fire, and then run around the fields waving them, screaming, and singing wild songs. Finally, they would burn a straw man in the field.300 In the Düsseldorf area, the straw man burned on Shrove Tuesday was made from an unthreshed sheaf of corn.301 On the first Monday after the spring equinox, kids in Zurich drag a straw man on a small cart through the streets, while girls carry around a May tree. When vespers ring, the straw man is burned.302 In the Aachen area on Ash Wednesday, a man used to be wrapped in pea straw and taken to a designated spot. There he would quietly slip out of his straw covering, which would then be burned, while the children thought it was the man being burned.303 In the Val di Ledro (Tyrol) on the last day of Carnival, a figure made of straw and brushwood is burned. This figure is called the Old Woman, and the ceremony is known as "burning the Old Woman."304

Easter Fires.

Easter Eve Fire Festivals. A tradition in Catholic countries of lighting a sacred new fire at the church on Easter Saturday; remarkable qualities are attributed to the embers of the fire. The burning of Judas.

Another occasion on which these fire-festivals are held is [pg 121] Easter Eve, the Saturday before Easter Sunday. On that day it has been customary in Catholic countries to extinguish all the lights in the churches, and then to make a new fire, sometimes with flint and steel, sometimes with a burning-glass. At this fire is lit the great Paschal or Easter candle, which is then used to rekindle all the extinguished lights in the church. In many parts of Germany a bonfire is also kindled, by means of the new fire, on some open space near the church. It is consecrated, and the people bring sticks of oak, walnut, and beech, which they char in the fire, and then take home with them. Some of these charred sticks are thereupon burned at home in a newly-kindled fire, with a prayer that God will preserve the homestead from fire, lightning, and hail. Thus every house receives “new fire.” Some of the sticks are kept throughout the year and laid on the hearth-fire during heavy thunder-storms to prevent the house from being struck by lightning, or they are inserted in the roof with the like intention. Others are placed in the fields, gardens, and meadows, with a prayer that God will keep them from blight and hail. Such fields and gardens are thought to thrive more than others; the corn and the plants that grow in them are not beaten down by hail, nor devoured by mice, vermin, and beetles; no witch harms them, and the ears of corn stand close and full. The charred sticks are also applied to the plough. The ashes of the Easter bonfire, together with the ashes of the consecrated palm-branches, are mixed with the seed at sowing. A wooden figure called Judas is sometimes burned in the consecrated bonfire, and even where this custom has been abolished the bonfire itself in some places goes by the name of “the burning of Judas.”305

Another occasion when these fire festivals are held is [pg 121] Easter Eve, the Saturday before Easter Sunday. On that day, it has been a tradition in Catholic countries to turn off all the lights in the churches and then light a new fire, sometimes using flint and steel, other times a burning glass. From this fire, the great Paschal or Easter candle is lit, which is then used to relight all the extinguished lights in the church. In many parts of Germany, a bonfire is also lit from the new fire in an open space near the church. It is consecrated, and people bring sticks of oak, walnut, and beech to char in the fire and then take home with them. Some of these charred sticks are burned at home in a newly kindled fire, with a prayer asking God to protect the homestead from fire, lightning, and hail. Thus, every house receives “new flame.” Some of the sticks are kept throughout the year and placed on the hearth during heavy thunderstorms to prevent lightning strikes, or they are inserted into the roof for the same purpose. Others are laid in fields, gardens, and meadows, along with a prayer for God to protect them from blight and hail. The fields and gardens that receive these sticks are believed to thrive more than others; the crops and plants in them are not flattened by hail, nor eaten by mice, pests, or beetles; no witch can harm them, and the ears of corn grow close and full. The charred sticks are also used with the plow. The ashes from the Easter bonfire, along with the ashes from the blessed palm branches, are mixed with the seed when sowing. A wooden figure called Judas is sometimes burned in the consecrated bonfire, and even where this practice has been stopped, in some places the bonfire is still referred to as "the burning of Judas."305

[pg 122]

Easter bonfires in Bavaria and the Abruzzi.

In the Hollertau, Bavaria, the young men used to light their lanterns at the newly-kindled Easter candle in the church and then race to the bonfire; he who reached it first set fire to the pile, and next day, Easter Sunday, was rewarded at the church-door by the housewives, who presented him with red eggs. Great was the jubilation while the effigy of the traitor was being consumed in the flames. The ashes were carefully collected and thrown away at sunrise in running water.306 In many parts of the Abruzzi, also, pious people kindle their fires on Easter Saturday with a brand brought from the sacred new fire in the church. When the brand has thus served to bless the fire on the domestic hearth, it is extinguished, and the remainder is preserved, partly in a cranny of the outer wall of the house, partly on a tree to which it is tied. This is done for the purpose of guarding the homestead against injury by storms. At Campo di Giove the people say that if you can get a piece of one of the three holy candles which the priest lights from the new fire, you should allow a few drops of the wax to fall into the crown of your hat; for after that, if it should thunder and lighten, you have nothing to do but to clap the hat on your head, and no flash of lightning can possibly strike you.307

In the Hollertau, Bavaria, young men used to light their lanterns at the newly lit Easter candle in the church and then race to the bonfire. The first one to arrive set fire to the pile, and the next day, Easter Sunday, was rewarded at the church door by the housewives, who gave him red eggs. There was great celebration while the effigy of the traitor was consumed in the flames. The ashes were carefully collected and thrown away at sunrise in moving water. 306 In many parts of the Abruzzi, pious people also light their fires on Easter Saturday with a brand taken from the blessed new fire in the church. Once the brand has blessed the fire on the home hearth, it is extinguished, and the leftover piece is kept, partly in a nook of the outer wall of the house and partly tied to a tree. This is done to protect the homestead from storm damage. In Campo di Giove, people believe that if you can get a piece of one of the three holy candles that the priest lights from the new fire, you should let a few drops of the wax fall into the crown of your hat. After that, if it thunders and lightens, you just need to put the hat on your head, and no flash of lightning can possibly strike you. 307

Water and fire were consecrated in Abruzzi on Easter Saturday. Water was consecrated in Calabria on Easter Saturday. Water and fire were consecrated on Easter Saturday among the Germans in Bohemia. Easter rituals of fire and water took place in Hildesheim.

Further, it deserves to be noted that in the Abruzzi water as well as fire is, as it were, renewed and consecrated on Easter Saturday. Most people fetch holy water on [pg 123] that day from the churches, and every member of the family drinks a little of it, believing that it has power to protect him or her against witchcraft, fever, and stomach-aches of all sorts. And when the church bells ring again after their enforced silence, the water is sprinkled about the house, and especially under the beds, with the help of a palm-branch. Some of this blessed water is also kept in the house for use in great emergencies, when there is no time to fetch a priest; thus it may be employed to baptize a new-born infant gasping for life or to sprinkle a sick man in the last agony; such a sprinkling is reckoned equal to priestly absolution.308 In Calabria the customs with regard to the new water, as it is called, on Easter Saturday are similar; it is poured into a new vessel, adorned with ribbons and flowers, is blessed by the priest, and is tasted by every one of the household, beginning with the parents. And when the air vibrates with the glad music of the church bells announcing the resurrection, the people sprinkle the holy water about the houses, bidding in a loud voice all evil things to go forth and all good things to come in. At the same time, to emphasize the exorcism, they knock on doors, window-shutters, chests, and other domestic articles of furniture. At Cetraro people who suffer from diseases of the skin bathe in the sea at this propitious moment; at Pietro in Guarano they plunge into the river on the night of Easter Saturday before Easter Sunday dawns, and while they bathe they utter never a word. Moreover, the Calabrians keep the “new water” as a sacred thing. They believe that it serves as a protection against witchcraft if it is sprinkled on a fire or a lamp, when the wood crackles or the wick sputters; for they regard it as a bad omen when the fire talks, as they say.309 Among the Germans of Western Bohemia, also, water as well as fire is consecrated by the priest in front of the church on Easter Saturday. People bring jugs full of water to the church and set them beside the holy fire; afterwards they use the water to sprinkle on the palm-branches which are stuck in the fields. Charred sticks of the Judas fire, as it is popularly called, are supposed to possess a magical and healing virtue; [pg 124] hence the people take them home with them, and even scuffle with each other for the still glowing embers in order to carry them, still glimmering, to their houses and so obtain “the light” or “the holy light.”310 At Hildesheim, also, and the neighbouring villages of central Germany rites both of fire and water are or were till lately observed at Easter. Thus on Easter night many people fetch water from the Innerste river and keep it carefully, believing it to be a remedy for many sorts of ailments both of man and beast. In the villages on the Leine river servant men and maids used to go silently on Easter night between the hours of eleven and twelve and silently draw water in buckets from the river; they mixed the water with the fodder and the drink of the cattle to make the animals thrive, and they imagined that to wash in it was good for human beings. Many were also of opinion that at the same mystic hour the water turned to wine as far as the crowing of a cock could be heard, and in this belief they laid themselves flat on their stomachs and kept their tongues in the water till the miraculous change occurred, when they took a great gulp of the transformed water. At Hildesheim, too, and the neighbouring villages fires used to blaze on all the heights on Easter Eve; and embers taken from the bonfires were dipped in the cattle troughs to benefit the beasts and were kept in the houses to avert lightning.311

Additionally, it's worth mentioning that in the Abruzzi, water and fire are, in a way, renewed and blessed on Easter Saturday. Most people collect holy water on [pg 123] from the churches that day, and each family member drinks a little, believing it can protect them from witchcraft, fever, and various stomach issues. When the church bells ring again after their silent period, the water is sprinkled around the house, especially under the beds, using a palm branch. Some of this blessed water is also saved in the house for emergencies when there's no time to call a priest; it can be used to baptize a newborn struggling for life or to sprinkle on a dying person, as such a sprinkling is considered equivalent to a priest's absolution. In Calabria, the customs surrounding the new water on Easter Saturday are similar; it’s poured into a new container decorated with ribbons and flowers, blessed by the priest, and tasted by everyone in the household, starting with the parents. When the air is filled with the joyful sound of church bells announcing the resurrection, people sprinkle the holy water in their homes, loudly commanding all evil to leave and all good to enter. At the same time, to emphasize the exorcism, they knock on doors, window shutters, chests, and other household items. In Cetraro, those with skin diseases bathe in the sea at this favorable moment; in Pietro in Guarano, they immerse themselves in the river on Easter Saturday night before dawn, remaining silent during the process. Additionally, the Calabrians treat the “fresh water” as sacred. They believe it protects against witchcraft if sprinkled on a fire or lamp, especially when the wood crackles or the wick sputters; they consider it a bad omen when the fire "talks," as they say. Among the Germans of Western Bohemia, water and fire are also blessed by the priest in front of the church on Easter Saturday. People bring jugs full of water to the church and place them beside the holy fire; later, they use the water to sprinkle on palm branches stuck in the fields. Charred sticks from the so-called Judas fire are believed to have magical and healing properties; [pg 124] so people take them home and even fight over the still-glowing embers to carry them, glowing, to their houses and thereby obtain “the light” or “the divine light.” In Hildesheim and the surrounding villages in central Germany, both fire and water rituals have been observed at Easter until recently. On Easter night, many people fetch water from the Innerste river and keep it carefully, believing it to be a remedy for various ailments in both humans and animals. In the villages near the Leine river, servants used to go quietly on Easter night between eleven and midnight to draw water in buckets, mixing it with the livestock's food and drink to ensure their health, believing that washing in it was beneficial for people too. Many believed that at that same mystical hour, the water turned into wine as long as they could hear a rooster crowing, and in this belief, they laid flat on their stomachs, keeping their tongues in the water until the miraculous transformation occurred, at which point they took a big gulp of the changed water. In Hildesheim and neighboring villages, fires blazed on all the heights on Easter Eve; embers from the bonfires were dipped in water troughs to benefit the animals and were kept in homes to ward off lightning.

New fire at Easter in Carinthia. Consecration of fire and water by the Catholic Church at Easter.

In the Lesachthal, Carinthia, all the fires in the houses used to be extinguished on Easter Saturday, and rekindled with a fresh fire brought from the churchyard, where the priest had lit it by the friction of flint and steel and had bestowed his blessing on it.312 Such customs were probably widespread. In a Latin poem of the sixteenth century, written by a certain Thomas Kirchmeyer and translated into English by Barnabe Googe, we read:—

In the Lesachthal, Carinthia, all the fires in the houses used to be put out on Easter Saturday and then reignited with a new flame brought from the churchyard, where the priest had lit it by striking flint and steel and had blessed it. 312 These customs were likely common. In a Latin poem from the sixteenth century, written by a guy named Thomas Kirchmeyer and translated into English by Barnabe Googe, we read:—

On Easter Eve, the fire is extinguished everywhere,
And freshly taken from the flint with solemn grace:
[pg 125]
The priest blesses this to protect against many great dangers,
A brand that every man eagerly takes home,
When the fearful storm shows up, or dark tempests arise,
By lighting this, he can be protected from the harmful effects of the skies:
A large taper, called the Paschal, is blessed with music.
And they sprinkle frankincense here for greater holiness:
This burns night and day as a sign of Christ who conquered hell,
It seems foolish to think that this alone is enough to say.
Then the Bishop or the Priest blesses the water right away,
That is reserved for their baptism: for now, nothing else of significance.
They used that the year before, and they can’t anymore,
Young children are named the same way as they always have been.
In grand style and with elaborate decorations, they move through the Church,
With candles, crosses, banners, Chrisme, and oil prepared for this:
They march around the fountain nine times and call upon the saints,
Then they finally stand still, and right away the Priest begins.
And three times he touches the water and makes the crosses there.
Here he uses big and harsh words to make the devil tremble:
And healthy waters summon, and foolishly do they prepare,
Assuming it’s holy to create what God has already blessed:
And after this, his candle goes out, he pushes it into the flood,
And three times he breathes on it with a breath that smells of past food:
And here, at the end, he pours his Chrisme over it,
The people staring here stand, amazed at each one:
Believing that great power is given to this water here,
By the amazement of these knowledgeable men, and other trivial things.
So they take vessels to draw water, and some they carry home.
Against the troubles that may come to themselves or to their beasts.
Then Clappers stop, and bells are free to ring again.
And so, all the hungry times of fasting are over here. 313

It is said that formerly all the fires in Rome were lighted afresh from the holy fire kindled in St. Peter's on Easter Saturday. 314

It is said that formerly all the fires in Rome were lit again from the holy fire started in St. Peter's on Easter Saturday. 314

[pg 126]

The new fire on Easter Saturday in Florence.

In Florence the ceremony of kindling the new fire on Easter Eve is peculiar. The holy flame is elicited from certain flints which are said to have been brought by a member of the Pazzi family from the Holy Land. They are kept in the church of the Holy Apostles on the Piazza del Limbo, and on the morning of Easter Saturday the prior strikes fire from them and lights a candle from the new flame. The burning candle is then carried in solemn procession by the clergy and members of the municipality to the high altar in the cathedral. A vast crowd has meanwhile assembled in the cathedral and the neighbouring square to witness the ceremony; amongst the spectators are many peasants drawn from the surrounding country, for it is commonly believed that on the success or failure of the ceremony depends the fate of the crops for the year. Outside the door of the cathedral stands a festal car drawn by two fine white oxen with gilded horns. The body of the car is loaded with a pyramid of squibs and crackers and is connected by a wire with a pillar set up in front of the high altar. The wire extends down the middle of the nave at a height of about six feet from the ground. Beneath it a clear passage is left, the spectators being ranged on either side and crowding the vast interior from wall to wall. When all is ready, High Mass is celebrated, and precisely at noon, when the first words of the Gloria are being chanted, the sacred fire is applied to the pillar, which like the car is wreathed with fireworks. A moment more and a fiery dove comes flying down the nave, with a hissing sound and a sputter of sparks, between the two hedges of eager spectators. If all goes well, the bird pursues its course along the wire and out at the door, and in another moment a prolonged series of fizzes, pops and bangs announces to the excited crowd in the cathedral that the fireworks on the car are going off. Great is the joy accordingly, especially among the bumpkins, who are now sure of an abundant harvest. But if, as sometimes happens, the dove stops short in its career and fizzles out, revealing itself as a stuffed bird with a packet of squibs tied to its tail, great is the consternation, and deep the curses that issue from between the set teeth of the clodhoppers, who now give up the harvest for lost. Formerly the unskilful [pg 127] mechanician who was responsible for the failure would have been clapped into gaol; but nowadays he is thought sufficiently punished by the storm of public indignation and the loss of his pay. The disaster is announced by placards posted about the streets in the evening; and next morning the newspapers are full of gloomy prognostications.315

In Florence, the tradition of lighting the new fire on Easter Eve is unique. The holy flame is taken from specific flints that are said to have been brought by a member of the Pazzi family from the Holy Land. These flints are kept in the church of the Holy Apostles in Piazza del Limbo, and on the morning of Easter Saturday, the prior strikes them to create a spark and lights a candle from the new flame. This burning candle is then carried in a solemn procession by the clergy and local officials to the high altar in the cathedral. A large crowd gathers in the cathedral and the nearby square to witness the event; among the spectators are many peasants from the surrounding countryside, as it is widely believed that the success or failure of the ceremony determines the fate of the crops for the year. Outside the cathedral stands a festive cart pulled by two beautiful white oxen with gilded horns. The cart is loaded with a pyramid of firecrackers and is connected by a wire to a pillar set up in front of the high altar. The wire runs down the middle of the nave at about six feet off the ground. There is a clear path underneath, with spectators lined up on either side, filling the vast interior from wall to wall. When everything is ready, High Mass begins, and exactly at noon, as the first words of the Gloria are sung, the sacred fire is applied to the pillar, which, like the cart, is adorned with fireworks. In a moment, a fiery dove flies down the nave, hissing and sparking, weaving through the eager spectators. If everything goes well, the dove continues along the wire and exits through the door, leading to a lengthy series of fizzes, pops, and bangs that signal to the excited crowd in the cathedral that the fireworks on the cart are igniting. This brings great joy, especially to the peasants, who are now confident of a bountiful harvest. However, if, as sometimes happens, the dove stops abruptly and fizzles out, revealing itself as a stuffed bird with a packet of firecrackers tied to its tail, there is widespread panic, and deep curses erupt from the frustrated peasants, who now accept that the harvest is lost. In the past, the clumsy technician responsible for the failure would have been thrown into jail; nowadays, however, he is deemed sufficiently punished by the public outrage and the loss of his wages. The disaster is announced on placards posted around the streets in the evening, and the following morning, the newspapers are filled with bleak predictions.

The new fire and the burning of Judas on Easter Saturday in Mexico.

Some of these customs have been transported by the Catholic Church to the New World. Thus in Mexico the new fire is struck from a flint early in the morning of Easter Saturday, and a candle which has been lighted at the sacred flame is carried through the church by a deacon shouting Lumen Christi.” Meantime the whole city, we are informed, has been converted into a vast place of execution. Ropes stretch across the streets from house to house, and from every house dangles an effigy of Judas, made of paper pulp. Scores or hundreds of them may adorn a single street. They are of all shapes and sizes, grotesque in form and garbed in strange attire, stuffed with gunpowder, squibs and crackers, sometimes, too, with meat, bread, soap, candy, and clothing, for which the crowd will scramble and scuffle while the effigies are burning. There they hang grim, black, and sullen in the strong sunshine, greeted with a roar of execration by the pious mob. A peal of bells from the cathedral tower on the stroke of noon gives the signal for the execution. At the sound a frenzy seizes the crowd. They throw themselves furiously on the figures of the detested traitor, cut them down, hurl them with curses into the fire, and fight and struggle with each other in their efforts to tear the effigies to tatters and appropriate their contents. Smoke, stink, sputter of crackers, oaths, curses, yells are now the order of the day. But the traitor does not perish unavenged. For the anatomy of his frame has been cunningly contrived so as in burning to discharge volleys of squibs into his assailants; and the wounds and burns with which their [pg 128] piety is rewarded form a feature of the morning's entertainment. The English Jockey Club in Mexico used to improve on this popular pastime by suspending huge figures of Judas, stuffed with copper coins, from ropes in front of their clubhouse. These were ignited at the proper moment and lowered within reach of the expectant rabble, and it was the privilege of members of the club, seated in the balcony, to watch the grimaces and to hear the shrieks of the victims, as they stamped and capered about with the hot coppers sticking to their hands, divided in their minds between an acute sense of pain and a thirst for filthy lucre.316

Some of these customs have been brought by the Catholic Church to the New World. In Mexico, the new fire is struck from a flint early on Easter Saturday morning, and a candle lit from the sacred flame is carried through the church by a deacon shouting Light of Christ.” Meanwhile, the entire city has been transformed into a massive site of execution. Ropes stretch across the streets from house to house, and from every house hangs an effigy of Judas made of paper pulp. Dozens or even hundreds of them can decorate a single street. They come in all shapes and sizes, grotesque in appearance and dressed in bizarre attire, stuffed with gunpowder, firecrackers, and sometimes even meat, bread, soap, candy, and clothes, which the crowd scrambles for while the effigies burn. They hang grim, black, and gloomy under the bright sunshine, met with a roar of condemnation from the devout crowd. A peal of bells from the cathedral tower at noon signals the start of the execution. At the sound, the crowd goes wild. They furiously attack the figures of the hated traitor, cut them down, hurl them with curses into the fire, and wrestle with each other to tear the effigies apart and grab their contents. Smoke, stink, firecrackers sputtering, oaths, curses, and shouts fill the air. But the traitor does not go down without a fight. The construction of his figure has been cleverly designed to fire off squibs at his attackers as he burns; and the wounds and burns that their [pg 128] piety gives them are part of the morning's entertainment. The English Jockey Club in Mexico once improved upon this popular event by hanging large figures of Judas stuffed with copper coins from ropes in front of their clubhouse. These were ignited at the right moment and lowered within reach of the eager crowd. Club members seated in the balcony could watch the grimaces and hear the screams of the victims as they danced around with the hot coins sticking to their hands, torn between sharp pain and a craving for filthy lucre.

The burning of Judas at Easter in South America.

Scenes of the same sort, though on a less ambitious scale, are witnessed among the Catholics of South America on the same day. In Brazil the mourning for the death of Christ ceases at noon on Easter Saturday and gives place to an extravagant burst of joy at his resurrection. Shots are fired everywhere, and effigies of Judas are hung on trees or dragged about the streets, to be finally burned or otherwise destroyed.317 In the Indian villages scattered among the wild valleys of the Peruvian Andes figures of the traitor, made of pasteboard and stuffed with squibs and crackers, are hanged on gibbets before the door of the church on Easter Saturday. Fire is set to them, and while they crackle and explode, the Indians dance and shout for joy at the destruction of their hated enemy.318 Similarly at Rio Hacha, in Colombia, Judas is represented during Holy Week by life-sized effigies, and the people fire at them as if they were discharging a sacred duty.319

Scenes like this, although on a smaller scale, can also be seen among Catholics in South America on the same day. In Brazil, mourning for Christ's death ends at noon on Easter Saturday and transforms into a wild celebration for his resurrection. Gunshots ring out everywhere, and effigies of Judas are hung from trees or dragged through the streets, eventually being burned or destroyed. 317 In the Indian villages scattered throughout the rugged valleys of the Peruvian Andes, figures of the traitor, made from cardboard and filled with firecrackers, are hung on gibbets outside the church on Easter Saturday. They're set on fire, and as they crackle and pop, the Indians dance and cheer, reveling in the downfall of their despised enemy. 318 Similarly, in Rio Hacha, Colombia, Judas is portrayed during Holy Week through life-sized effigies, and the people shoot at them as if fulfilling a sacred duty. 319

The new fire on Easter Saturday at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.

But usages of this sort are not confined to the Latin Church; they are common to the Greek Church also. Every year on the Saturday before Easter Sunday a new fire is miraculously kindled at the Holy Sepulchre in [pg 129] Jerusalem. It descends from heaven and ignites the candles which the patriarch holds in his hands, while with closed eyes he wrestles in prayer all alone in the chapel of the Angel. The worshippers meanwhile wait anxiously in the body of the church, and great are their transports of joy when at one of the windows of the chapel, which had been all dark a minute before, there suddenly appears the hand of an angel, or of the patriarch, holding a lighted taper. This is the sacred new fire; it is passed out to the expectant believers, and the desperate struggle which ensues among them to get a share of its blessed influence is only terminated by the intervention of the Turkish soldiery, who restore peace and order by hustling the whole multitude impartially out of the church. In days gone by many lives were often lost in these holy scrimmages. For example, in the year 1834, the famous Ibrahim Pasha witnessed the frantic scene from one of the galleries, and, being moved with compassion at the sight, descended with a few guards into the arena in the chimerical hope of restoring peace and order among the contending Christians. He contrived to force his way into the midst of the dense crowd, but there the heat and pressure were so great that he fainted away; a body of soldiers, seeing his danger, charged straight into the throng and carried him out of it in their arms, trampling under foot the dying and dead in their passage. Nearly two hundred people were killed that day in the church. The fortunate survivors on these occasions who succeeded in obtaining a portion of the coveted fire applied it freely to their faces, their beards, and their garments. The theory was that the fire, being miraculous, could only bless and not burn them; but the practical results of the experiment were often disappointing, for while the blessings were more or less dubious, there could be no doubt whatever about the burns.320 The history of the miracle has been carefully [pg 130] investigated by a Jesuit father. The conclusions at which he arrives are that the miracle was a miracle indeed so long as the Catholics had the management of it; but that since it fell into the hands of the heretics it has been nothing but a barefaced trick and imposture.321 Many people will be disposed to agree with the latter conclusion who might hesitate to accept the former.

But these types of practices aren’t exclusive to the Latin Church; they’re also common in the Greek Church. Every year on the Saturday before Easter Sunday, a new fire is miraculously lit at the Holy Sepulchre in [pg 129] Jerusalem. It comes down from heaven and lights the candles that the patriarch holds while he prays alone with his eyes closed in the chapel of the Angel. Meanwhile, the worshippers wait anxiously in the church, and their joy is immense when, at one of the chapel’s windows that was dark just a minute before, suddenly appears the hand of an angel or the patriarch holding a lit taper. This is the sacred new fire; it’s passed out to the eager believers, and the chaotic scramble that follows among them to get a share of its blessed power only ends when the Turkish soldiers intervene, restoring peace and order by pushing the entire crowd out of the church. In the past, many lives were often lost in these holy frenzies. For instance, in 1834, the notable Ibrahim Pasha watched the frantic scene from one of the galleries and, feeling compassion for the situation, went down with a few guards hoping to restore peace among the arguing Christians. He managed to push into the dense crowd, but the heat and pressure were so intense that he fainted. A group of soldiers, noticing his danger, charged into the crowd and carried him out in their arms, trampling over the dying and dead in the process. Nearly two hundred people were killed that day in the church. The lucky survivors who managed to get a bit of the coveted fire would apply it to their faces, beards, and clothes. The belief was that the fire, being miraculous, would bless and not burn them; however, the real results of this practice were often disappointing, as while the blessings were questionable, the burns were definitely real. 320 The story of the miracle has been carefully [pg 130] investigated by a Jesuit priest. His conclusions are that the miracle was genuine as long as the Catholics managed it, but since it fell to the heretics, it has been nothing but a blatant trick and deception.321 Many people might agree with this latter conclusion while hesitating to accept the former.

The new fire and the burning of Judas on Easter Saturday in Greece.

At Athens the new fire is kindled in the cathedral at midnight on Holy Saturday. A dense crowd with unlit candles in their hands fills the square in front of the cathedral; the king, the archbishop, and the highest dignitaries of the church, arrayed in their gorgeous robes, occupy a platform; and at the exact moment of the resurrection the bells ring out, and the whole square bursts as by magic into a blaze of light. Theoretically all the candles are lit from the sacred new fire in the cathedral, but practically it may be suspected that the matches which bear the name of Lucifer have some share in the sudden illumination.322 Effigies of Judas used to be burned at Athens on Easter Saturday, but the custom has been forbidden by the Government. However, firing goes on more or less continuously all over the city both on Easter Saturday and Easter Sunday, and the cartridges used on this occasion are not always blank. The shots are aimed at Judas, but sometimes they miss him and hit other people. Outside of Athens the practice of burning Judas in effigy still survives in some places. For example, in Cos a straw image of the traitor is made on Easter Day, and after being hung up and shot at it is burned.323 A similar custom [pg 131] appears to prevail at Thebes;324 it used to be observed by the Macedonian peasantry, and it is still kept up at Therapia, a fashionable summer resort of Constantinople.325

At midnight on Holy Saturday in Athens, the new fire is lit in the cathedral. A large crowd with unlit candles fills the square in front of the cathedral; the king, the archbishop, and the highest church officials, dressed in their elaborate robes, stand on a platform. At the exact moment of the resurrection, the bells ring, and the entire square suddenly lights up. In theory, all the candles are lit from the sacred new fire in the cathedral, but in reality, it’s likely that matches known as Lucifer play a part in this sudden brightness. 322 In the past, effigies of Judas were burned in Athens on Easter Saturday, but the government has banned this practice. However, shooting is still a continuous event across the city on both Easter Saturday and Easter Sunday, and the cartridges used are not always blanks. The shots are meant for Judas, but sometimes they miss and hit bystanders instead. Outside of Athens, the tradition of burning Judas in effigy still exists in some areas. For instance, in Cos, a straw figure of the traitor is made on Easter Day, and after being hung up and shot at, it is burned. 323 A similar custom [pg 131] is seen in Thebes; 324 it was once practiced by the Macedonian peasantry and is still observed at Therapia, a popular summer resort in Constantinople. 325

The new fire at Candlemas in Armenia.

In the Armenian Church the sacred new fire is kindled not at Easter but at Candlemas, that is, on the second of February, or on the eve of that festival. The materials of the bonfire are piled in an open space near a church, and they are generally ignited by young couples who have been married within the year. However, it is the bishop or his vicar who lights the candles with which fire is set to the pile. All young married pairs are expected to range themselves about the fire and to dance round it. Young men leap over the flames, but girls and women content themselves with going round them, while they pray to be preserved from the itch and other skin-diseases. When the ceremony is over, the people eagerly pick up charred sticks or ashes of the fire and preserve them or scatter them on the four corners of the roof, in the cattle-stall, in the garden, and on the pastures; for these holy sticks and ashes protect men and cattle against disease, and fruit-trees against worms and caterpillars. Omens, too, are drawn from the direction in which the wind blows the flames and the smoke: if it carries them eastward, there is hope of a good harvest; but if it inclines them westward, the people fear that the crops will fail.326

In the Armenian Church, the sacred new fire is lit not at Easter but at Candlemas, which falls on February 2nd, or on the night before that festival. The materials for the bonfire are stacked in an open area near a church, and they are usually ignited by young couples who have been married in the past year. However, it's the bishop or his vicar who lights the candles that then set fire to the pile. All young married couples are expected to gather around the fire and dance around it. Young men jump over the flames, while girls and women simply walk around them, praying to be protected from itch and other skin diseases. After the ceremony, people eagerly collect charred sticks or ashes from the fire to keep or scatter in the four corners of the roof, in the cattle stall, in the garden, and in the pastures, as these holy items are believed to protect people and livestock from illness and to safeguard fruit trees from worms and caterpillars. Omens are also interpreted from the direction of the wind blowing the flames and smoke: if it carries them eastward, there's hope for a good harvest, but if it pushes them westward, people fear that the crops will fail.326

The new fire and the burning of Judas at Easter are likely remnants of pagan traditions.

In spite of the thin cloak of Christianity thrown over these customs by representing the new fire as an emblem of Christ and the figure burned in it as an effigy of Judas, we can hardly doubt that both practices are of pagan origin. Neither of them has the authority of Christ or of his disciples; but both of them have abundant analogies in popular custom [pg 132] and superstition. Some instances of the practice of annually extinguishing fires and relighting them from a new and sacred flame have already come before us;327 but a few examples may here be cited for the sake of illustrating the wide diffusion of a custom which has found its way into the ritual both of the Eastern and of the Western Church.

Despite the thin layer of Christianity wrapped around these customs by depicting the new fire as a symbol of Christ and the figure burned in it as an effigy of Judas, it's hard to overlook that both practices are rooted in pagan traditions. Neither has the endorsement of Christ or his disciples; however, both have strong connections to popular customs and superstitions. Some instances of the practice of extinguishing fires annually and relighting them from a new and sacred flame have already been mentioned;327 but a few examples can be cited here to illustrate the widespread nature of a custom that has been incorporated into the rituals of both the Eastern and Western Church.

The new fire at the summer solstice among the Incas of Peru. The new fire among the Indigenous people of Mexico and New Mexico. The new fire among the Eskimo.

The Incas of Peru celebrated a festival called Raymi, a word which their native historian Garcilasso de la Vega tells us was equivalent to our Easter. It was held in honour of the sun at the solstice in June. For three days before the festival the people fasted, men did not sleep with their wives, and no fires were lighted in Cuzco, the capital. The sacred new fire was obtained direct from the sun by concentrating his beams on a highly polished concave plate and reflecting them on a little cotton wool. With this holy fire the sheep and lambs offered to the sun were consumed, and the flesh of such as were to be eaten at the festival was roasted. Portions of the new fire were also conveyed to the temple of the sun and to the convent of the sacred virgins, where they were kept burning all the year, and it was an ill omen if the holy flame went out.328 At a festival held in the last month of the old Mexican year all the fires both in the temples and in the houses were extinguished, and the priest kindled a new fire by rubbing two sticks against each other before the image of the fire-god.329 The Zuni Indians of New Mexico kindle a new fire by the friction of wood both at the winter and the summer solstice. At the winter solstice the chosen fire-maker collects a faggot of cedar-wood from every house in the village, and each person, as he hands the wood to the fire-maker, prays that the crops may be good in the coming year. For several days before the new fire is kindled, no [pg 133] ashes or sweepings may be removed from the houses and no artificial light may appear outside of them, not even a burning cigarette or the flash of firearms. The Indians believe that no rain will fall on the fields of the man outside whose house a light has been seen at this season. The signal for kindling the new fire is given by the rising of the Morning Star. The flame is produced by twirling an upright stick between the hands on a horizontal stick laid on the floor of a sacred chamber, the sparks being caught by a tinder of cedar-dust. It is forbidden to blow up the smouldering tinder with the breath, for that would offend the gods. After the fire has thus been ceremonially kindled, the women and girls of all the families in the village clean out their houses. They carry the sweepings and ashes in baskets or bowls to the fields and leave them there. To the sweepings the woman says: “I now deposit you as sweepings, but in one year you will return to me as corn.” And to the ashes she says: “I now deposit you as ashes, but in one year you will return to me as meal.” At the summer solstice the sacred fire which has been procured by the friction of wood is used to kindle the grass and trees, that there may be a great cloud of smoke, while bull-roarers are swung and prayers offered that the Rain-makers up aloft will water the earth.330 From this account we see how intimately the kindling of a new fire at the two turning-points of the sun's course is associated in the minds of these Indians with the fertility of the land, particularly with the growth of the corn. The rolling smoke is apparently an imitation of rain-clouds designed, on the principle of homoeopathic magic, to draw showers from the blue sky. Once a year the Iroquois priesthood supplied the people with a new fire. As a preparation for the annual rite [pg 134] the fires in all the huts were extinguished and the ashes scattered about. Then the priest, wearing the insignia of his office, went from hut to hut relighting the fires by means of a flint.331 Among the Esquimaux with whom C. F. Hall resided, it was the custom that at a certain time, which answered to our New Year's Day, two men went about from house to house blowing out every light in the village. One of the men was dressed to represent a woman. Afterwards the lights were rekindled from a fresh fire. An Esquimau woman being asked what all this meant, replied, “New sun—new light.”332 Among the Esquimaux of Iglulik, when the sun first rises above the horizon after the long night of the Arctic winter, the children who have watched for his reappearance run into the houses and blow out the lamps. Then they receive from their mothers presents of pieces of wick.333

The Incas of Peru celebrated a festival called Raymi, which their native historian Garcilasso de la Vega said was similar to our Easter. It took place in honor of the sun at the solstice in June. For three days leading up to the festival, the people fasted, men did not sleep with their wives, and no fires were lit in Cuzco, the capital. The sacred new fire was created directly from the sun by focusing its rays on a highly polished concave plate and reflecting them onto a piece of cotton wool. With this holy fire, the sheep and lambs offered to the sun were burned, and the meat destined for the festival was roasted. Portions of the new fire were also taken to the temple of the sun and to the convent of the sacred virgins, where it was kept burning all year round, and it was considered bad luck if the holy flame went out.328 At a festival held in the last month of the old Mexican year, all the fires in the temples and homes were put out, and a priest would create a new fire by rubbing two sticks together in front of the image of the fire-god.329 The Zuni Indians of New Mexico create a new fire by rubbing wood together during both the winter and summer solstices. At the winter solstice, the designated fire-maker collects a bundle of cedar wood from each household in the village, and as each person hands over the wood, they pray for good crops in the upcoming year. For several days before the new fire is made, no ashes or sweepings are removed from the homes, and no artificial light is allowed outside, not even a lit cigarette or the flash of firearms. The Indians believe that no rain will fall on the fields of anyone whose house has had a light visible during this time. The signal for lighting the new fire is given by the rising of the Morning Star. The flame is generated by twirling an upright stick between the hands on a horizontal stick placed on the floor of a sacred chamber, with a tinder of cedar dust catching the sparks. Blowing on the smoldering tinder with one's breath is forbidden, as it would offend the gods. After the fire is ceremonially started, the women and girls from all the families in the village clean their homes. They take the sweepings and ashes in baskets or bowls to the fields and leave them there. To the sweepings, the woman says: “I’m putting you down as trash right now, but in a year, you’ll come back to me as something valuable.” And to the ashes, she says: "I’m now burying you as ashes, but in a year, you will come back to me as food." At the summer solstice, the sacred fire created from the wood friction is used to ignite the grass and trees, creating a great cloud of smoke while bull-roarers are swung and prayers are offered for the Rain-makers above to water the earth.330 From this account, we see how closely tied the lighting of a new fire at the two turning points of the sun's journey is viewed by these Indians as related to the land's fertility, especially in terms of corn growth. The rising smoke seems to imitate rain clouds, designed on the principle of homeopathic magic to draw rain from the blue sky. Once a year, the Iroquois priesthood supplied the people with a new fire. As preparation for the annual rite [pg 134], all the fires in the huts were extinguished, and the ashes were scattered around. Then, the priest, wearing his official insignia, went from hut to hut relighting the fires using a flint.331 Among the Esquimaux with whom C. F. Hall lived, it was customary that at a specific time, corresponding to our New Year's Day, two men would go from house to house blowing out every light in the village. One of the men wore clothing to represent a woman. Afterward, the lights were reignited from a new fire. When an Esquimau woman was asked what this meant, she replied, "New sun, new light."332 Among the Esquimaux of Iglulik, when the sun first rises above the horizon after the long Arctic winter night, the children who have watched for its return run into the homes and blow out the lamps. They then receive presents of pieces of wick from their mothers.333

The new fire in Wadai, among the Swahili, and in other areas of Africa.

In the Sudanese kingdom of Wadai all the fires in the villages are put out and the ashes removed from the houses on the day which precedes the New Year festival. At the beginning of the new year a new fire is lit by the friction of wood in the great straw hut where the village elders lounge away the sultry hours together; and every man takes thence a burning brand with which he rekindles the fire on his domestic hearth.334 In the Bahr-el-Ghazal province of the Egyptian Sudan the people extinguish their old fires at the Arab New Year and bring in new fire. On the same occasion they beat the walls of their huts, the grass thatches, and the walls of their enclosures in order to drive away the devil or evil spirits. The beating of the walls and roofs is accompanied by the firing of guns, the shouting of men, and the shriller cries of the women.335 Thus these people combine [pg 135] an annual expulsion of demons with an annual lighting of a new fire. Among the Swahili of East Africa the greatest festival is that of the New Year, which falls in the second half of August. At a given moment all the fires are extinguished with water and afterwards relit by the friction of two dry pieces of wood. The ashes of the old fires are carried out and deposited at cross-roads. All the people get up very early in the morning and bathe in the sea or some other water, praying to be kept in good health and to live that they may bathe again next year. Sham-fights form part of the amusements of the day; sometimes they pass into grim reality. Indeed the day was formerly one of general license; every man did that which was good in his own eyes. No awkward questions were asked about any crimes committed on this occasion, so some people improved the shining hour by knocking a few poor devils on the head. Shooting still goes on during the whole day, and at night the proceedings generally wind up with a great dance.336 The King of Benametapa, as the early Portuguese traders called him, in East Africa used to send commissioners annually to every town in his dominions; on the arrival of one of these officers the inhabitants of each town had to put out all their fires and to receive a new fire from him. Failure to comply with this custom was treated as rebellion.337 Some tribes of British Central Africa carefully extinguish the fires on the hearths at [pg 136] the beginning of the hoeing season and at harvest; the fires are afterwards rekindled by friction, and the people indulge in dances of various kinds.338

In the Sudanese kingdom of Wadai, all the fires in the villages are put out and the ashes cleared from the homes on the day before the New Year festival. At the start of the new year, a new fire is lit by rubbing two pieces of wood together in the large straw hut where the village elders relax during the hot hours; then, each man takes a burning brand from there to rekindle the fire in his own home.334 In the Bahr-el-Ghazal province of the Egyptian Sudan, people put out their old fires at the Arab New Year and bring in a new fire. At the same time, they beat the walls of their huts, the grass roofs, and the fences to drive away devils or evil spirits. This beating of walls and roofs is accompanied by gunfire, men shouting, and women’s high-pitched cries.335 In this way, these people combine an annual banishment of demons with the annual lighting of a new fire. Among the Swahili in East Africa, the biggest celebration is the New Year, which occurs in the second half of August. At a specific moment, all the fires are put out with water and then rekindled by rubbing two dry pieces of wood together. The ashes from the old fires are taken out and left at crossroads. Everyone wakes up early and bathes in the sea or another body of water, praying for good health and the chance to bathe again next year. Play-fights are part of the festivities; sometimes they turn serious. In fact, this day was once marked by a sense of freedom; everyone did as they pleased. No difficult questions were asked about crimes committed on this day, so some people took advantage of the situation to hit a few unlucky individuals. Shooting continues throughout the day, and at night, the celebrations typically culminate in a big dance.336 The King of Benametapa, as early Portuguese traders referred to him, in East Africa would send commissioners to every town in his kingdom each year; when one of these officials arrived, the residents of the town had to extinguish all their fires and welcome a new fire from him. Failing to follow this custom was considered an act of rebellion.337 Some tribes in British Central Africa carefully put out their hearth fires at the beginning of the planting season and during harvest time; the fires are then rekindled by friction, and the people enjoy various dance celebrations.338

The new movement among the Todas in Southern India and the Nagas in North-Eastern India.

The Todas of the Neilgherry Hills, in Southern India, annually kindle a sacred new fire by the friction of wood in the month which begins with the October moon. The ceremony is performed by two holy dairymen at the foot of a high hill. When they have lighted the fire by rubbing two dry sticks together, and it begins to burn well, they stand a little way off and pray, saying, “May the young grass flower! May honey flourish! May fruit ripen!” The purpose of the ceremony is to make the grass and honey plentiful. In ancient times the Todas lived largely on wild fruits, and then the rite of the new fire was very important. Now that they subsist chiefly on the milk of their buffaloes, the ceremony has lost much of its old significance.339 When the Nagas of North-Eastern India have felled the timber and cut down the scrub in those patches of jungle which they propose to cultivate, they put out all the fires in the village and light a new fire by rubbing two dry pieces of wood together. Then having kindled torches at it they proceed with them to the jungle and ignite the felled timber and brushwood. The flesh of a cow or buffalo is also roasted on the new fire and furnishes a sacrificial meal.340 Near the small town of Kahma in Burma, between Prome and Thayetmyo, certain gases escape from a hollow in the ground and burn with a steady flame during the dry season of the year. The people regard the flame as the forge of a spectral smith who here carried on his business after death had removed him from his old smithy in the village. Once a year all the household fires in Kahma are extinguished and then lighted afresh from the ghostly flame.341

The Todas of the Neilgherry Hills in Southern India start a sacred new fire every year through wood friction during the month that begins with the October moon. This ceremony is carried out by two holy dairymen at the base of a high hill. After they light the fire by rubbing two dry sticks together and it starts to burn well, they step back a bit and pray, saying, "Let the young grass bloom! Let the honey thrive! Let the fruit grow ripe!" The purpose of this ceremony is to ensure a good supply of grass and honey. In ancient times, the Todas mainly consumed wild fruits, making the new fire rite quite significant. Now that their diet relies mostly on buffalo milk, the ceremony has lost much of its former importance.339 When the Nagas of North-Eastern India have cut down the timber and cleared the brush in the parts of the jungle they plan to farm, they extinguish all the fires in the village and create a new fire by rubbing two dry pieces of wood together. They then use this fire to light torches and head into the jungle to ignite the felled timber and brushwood. The flesh of a cow or buffalo is also cooked on this new fire, providing a sacrificial meal.340 Near the small town of Kahma in Burma, between Prome and Thayetmyo, certain gases escape from a depression in the ground and burn steadily during the dry season. The locals see this flame as the forge of a ghostly blacksmith who continues his work here after being removed from his old smithy in the village. Once a year, all the household fires in Kahma are put out and then rekindled from the ghostly flame.341

The new fire in China and Japan.

In China every year, about the beginning of April, certain [pg 137] officials, called Sz'hüen, used of old to go about the country armed with wooden clappers. Their business was to summon the people and command them to put out every fire. This was the beginning of a season called Han-shih-tsieh, or “eating cold food.” For three days all household fires remained extinct as a preparation for the solemn renewal of the fire, which took place on the fifth or sixth day of April, being the hundred and fifth day after the winter solstice. The ceremony was performed with great pomp by the same officials, who procured the new fire from heaven by reflecting the sun's rays either from a metal mirror or from a crystal on dry moss. Fire thus obtained is called by the Chinese heavenly fire, and its use is enjoined in sacrifices; whereas fire elicited by the friction of wood is termed by them earthly fire, and its use is prescribed for cooking and other domestic purposes. When once the new fire had thus been drawn from the sun, all the people were free to rekindle their domestic hearths; and, as a Chinese distich has it—

In China, every year, around the beginning of April, certain [pg 137] officials, called Sz'hüen, would travel around the country with wooden clappers. Their job was to gather the people and instruct them to put out all fires. This marked the start of a season known as Han-shih-tsieh, or "eating cold food." For three days, all household fires were extinguished in preparation for the solemn revival of fire, which occurred on the fifth or sixth of April, precisely the hundred and fifth day after the winter solstice. The ceremony was conducted with great ceremony by these officials, who obtained new fire from the heavens by reflecting the sun's rays either from a metal mirror or a crystal on dry moss. This fire is referred to by the Chinese as heavenly fire, and it is used in sacrifices; whereas fire created through the friction of wood is called earthly fire, which is used for cooking and other domestic tasks. Once the new fire had been drawn from the sun, everyone was allowed to relight their home fires; as a Chinese couplet states—

During the Cold Food Festival, there are a thousand white stalks among the flowers;
On Tsing-ming day, at sunrise, you can see the smoke from ten thousand homes.

According to a Chinese philosopher, the reason for thus renewing fire periodically is that the vital principle grows weaker and weaker in old fire, whereas in new fire it is young and vigorous. This annual renewal of fire was a ceremony of very great antiquity in China, since it is known to have been observed in the time of the first dynasty, about two thousand years before Christ. Under the Tcheou dynasty a change in the calendar led to shifting the fire-festival from spring to the summer solstice, but afterwards it was brought back to its original date. Although the custom appears to have long fallen into disuse, the barbarous inhabitants of Hainan, an island to the south of China, still call a year “a fire,” as if in memory of the time when the years were reckoned by the annually recurring ceremony of rekindling the sacred fire.342 “A Japanese book written two [pg 138] centuries ago informs us that sticks resembling the wands used for offerings at the purification ceremony were part shaven and set up in bundles at the four corners of the Gion shrine on the last day of the year. The priests, after prayers were recited, broke up the bundles and set fire to the sticks, which the people then carried home to light their household fires with for the New Year. The object of this ceremony was to avert pestilence.”343

According to a Chinese philosopher, the reason for periodically renewing fire is that the essential energy weakens in old fire, while new fire is fresh and strong. This annual fire renewal was a very ancient ceremony in China, known to have been practiced during the first dynasty, around two thousand years before Christ. During the Tcheou dynasty, a change in the calendar moved the fire festival from spring to the summer solstice, but it was later reverted to its original date. Although this custom seems to have largely disappeared, the primitive inhabitants of Hainan, an island south of China, still refer to a year as "a fire," as if recalling the time when years were counted by the yearly ritual of rekindling the sacred fire.342 A Japanese book written two centuries ago states that sticks similar to the wands used for offerings in the purification ceremony were partially shaved and arranged in bundles at the four corners of the Gion shrine on New Year's Eve. After prayers were offered, the priests broke up the bundles and lit the sticks on fire, which people then took home to start their household fires for the New Year. This ceremony was intended to ward off disease.343

The new fire in ancient Greece and Rome.

In classical antiquity the Greek island of Lemnos was devoted to the worship of the smith-god Hephaestus, who was said to have fallen on it when Zeus hurled him from heaven.344 Once a year every fire in the island was extinguished and remained extinct for nine days, during which sacrifices were offered to the dead and to the infernal powers. New fire was brought in a ship from the sacred isle of Delos, and with it the fires in the houses and the workshops were relit. The people said that with the new fire they made a new beginning of life. If the ship that bore the sacred flame arrived too soon, it might not put in to shore, but had to cruise in the offing till the nine days were expired.345 At Rome the sacred fire in the temple of Vesta was kindled anew every year on the first of March, which used to be the beginning of the Roman year;346 the task of lighting it was entrusted to the Vestal Virgins, and they performed it by drilling a hole in a board of lucky wood till the flame was elicited by friction. The new fire thus produced was carried into the temple of Vesta by one of the virgins in a bronze sieve.347

In ancient times, the Greek island of Lemnos was dedicated to the worship of the god of blacksmiths, Hephaestus, who was believed to have fallen there when Zeus threw him out of heaven.344 Once a year, every fire on the island was put out and stayed out for nine days, during which sacrifices were made to the dead and the underworld. New fire was brought on a ship from the sacred island of Delos, and it was used to rekindle the flames in homes and workshops. The people believed that with the new fire, they were starting a fresh chapter in life. If the ship carrying the sacred flame arrived too early, it would have to wait offshore until the nine days were over.345 In Rome, the sacred fire in the temple of Vesta was reignited every year on March 1st, which marked the start of the Roman year;346 lighting it was the responsibility of the Vestal Virgins, who did so by drilling into a piece of lucky wood until the heat created a flame through friction. The new fire was then carried into the temple of Vesta by one of the virgins in a bronze sieve.347

[pg 139]

The new fire at Halloween among the old Celts of Ireland. The new fire on September 1st among the Russian peasants.

Among the Celts of Ireland a new fire was annually kindled on Hallowe'en or the Eve of Samhain, as they called it, the last day of October, from which the Irish new year began; and all the hearths throughout the country are said to have been relighted from the fresh fire. The place where this holy flame was lit bore the name of Tlachtga or Tlactga; it has been identified with a rath or native fort on the Hill of Ward near Athboy in the county of Meath. “It was there,” says the old Irish historian, Geoffrey Keating, “that the Festival of the Fire of Tlactga was ordered to be held, and it was thither that the Druids of Ireland were wont to repair and to assemble, in solemn meeting, on the eve of Samhain, for the purpose of making a sacrifice to all the gods. It was in that fire at Tlactga, that their sacrifice was burnt; and it was made obligatory, under pain of punishment, to extinguish all the fires of Ireland, on that eve; and the men of Ireland were allowed to kindle no other fire but that one; and for each of the other fires, which were all to be lighted from it, the king of Munster was to receive a tax of a sgreball, that is, of three pence, because the land, upon which Tlactga was built, belongs to the portion of Meath which had been taken from Munster.”348 In the villages near Moscow at the present time the peasants put out all their fires on the eve of the first of September, and next morning at sunrise a wise man or a wise woman rekindles them with the help of muttered incantations and spells.349

Among the Celts of Ireland, a new fire was lit every year on Hallowe'en, or the Eve of Samhain, as they called it, which marked the last day of October and the start of the Irish new year. It's said that all the hearths in the country were rekindled from this fresh fire. The site where this sacred flame was kindled was known as Tlachtga or Tlactga; it's been identified with a rath or native fort on the Hill of Ward near Athboy in County Meath. "It was right there," notes the old Irish historian, Geoffrey Keating, The Festival of the Fire of Tlactga was supposed to happen, and it was there that the Druids of Ireland would come together for a serious meeting on the night before Samhain to make a sacrifice to all the gods. Their sacrifice was burned in the fire at Tlactga, and it was mandatory, under threat of punishment, to put out all the fires in Ireland that evening. The people of Ireland were only allowed to light a fire from that one, and for each additional fire that had to be lit from it, the king of Munster was to collect a tax of a sgreball, or three pence, since the land where Tlactga was located belonged to the part of Meath that had been taken from Munster.348 Today, in the villages near Moscow, peasants extinguish all their fires on the eve of the first of September, and the next morning at sunrise, a wise man or woman rekindles them using whispered incantations and spells.349

The ceremony of the new fire in both the Eastern and Western Church is likely a leftover from an ancient pagan ritual.

Instances of such practices might doubtless be multiplied, but the foregoing examples may suffice to render it [pg 140] probable that the ecclesiastical ceremony of lighting a sacred new fire on Easter Saturday had originally nothing to do with Christianity, but is merely one case of a world-wide custom which the Church has seen fit to incorporate in its ritual. It might be supposed that in the Western Church the custom was merely a survival of the old Roman usage of renewing the fire on the first of March, were it not that the observance by the Eastern Church of the custom on the same day seems to point back to a still older period when the ceremony of lighting a new fire in spring, perhaps at the vernal equinox, was common to many peoples of the Mediterranean area. We may conjecture that wherever such a ceremony has been observed, it originally marked the beginning of a new year, as it did in ancient Rome and Ireland, and as it still does in the Sudanese kingdom of Wadai and among the Swahili of Eastern Africa.

Instances of such practices could certainly be multiplied, but the examples given are enough to suggest that the church ceremony of lighting a sacred new fire on Easter Saturday likely had nothing to do with Christianity originally. It seems to be just one example of a global tradition that the Church has chosen to include in its rituals. One might think that in the Western Church, this custom is simply a remnant of the old Roman practice of renewing the fire on March first, if not for the fact that the Eastern Church observes this custom on the same day, which indicates a much older origin when lighting a new fire in spring, possibly at the vernal equinox, was common among many peoples in the Mediterranean. We can speculate that wherever this ceremony has taken place, it originally marked the start of a new year, like it did in ancient Rome and Ireland, and as it still does in the Sudanese kingdom of Wadai and among the Swahili of Eastern Africa.

The pagan nature of the Easter fire is evident in the superstitions tied to it, like the belief that the fire helps fertilize the fields and protects homes from fire and illness.

The essentially pagan character of the Easter fire festival appears plainly both from the mode in which it is celebrated by the peasants and from the superstitious beliefs which they associate with it. All over northern and central Germany, from Altmark and Anhalt on the east, through Brunswick, Hanover, Oldenburg, the Harz district, and Hesse to Westphalia the Easter bonfires still blaze simultaneously on the hill-tops. As many as forty may sometimes be counted within sight at once. Long before Easter the young people have been busy collecting firewood; every farmer contributes, and tar-barrels, petroleum cases, and so forth go to swell the pile. Neighbouring villages vie with each other as to which shall send up the greatest blaze. The fires are always kindled, year after year, on the same hill, which accordingly often takes the name of Easter Mountain. It is a fine spectacle to watch from some eminence the bonfires flaring up one after another on the neighbouring heights. As far as their light reaches, so far, in the belief of the peasants, the fields will be fruitful, and the houses on which they shine will be safe from conflagration or sickness. At Volkmarsen and other places in Hesse the people used to observe which way the wind blew the flames, and then they sowed flax seed in that direction, confident that it would grow well. Brands taken from the bonfires preserve houses from [pg 141] being struck by lightning; and the ashes increase the fertility of the fields, protect them from mice, and mixed with the drinking-water of cattle make the animals thrive and ensure them against plague. As the flames die down, young and old leap over them, and cattle are sometimes driven through the smouldering embers. In some places tar-barrels or wheels wrapt in straw used to be set on fire, and then sent rolling down the hillside. In others the boys light torches and wisps of straw at the bonfires and rush about brandishing them in their hands. Where the people are divided between Protestantism and Catholicism, as in Hildesheim, it has been observed that among Protestants the Easter bonfires are generally left to the boys, while in Catholic districts they are cared for by grown-up persons, and here the whole population will gather round the blazing pile and join in singing choral hymns, which echo far and wide in the stillness of night.350

The essentially pagan nature of the Easter fire festival is clearly visible in how the peasants celebrate it and the superstitious beliefs they attach to it. Across northern and central Germany, from Altmark and Anhalt in the east, through Brunswick, Hanover, Oldenburg, the Harz district, and Hesse to Westphalia, the Easter bonfires burn simultaneously on hilltops. At times, up to forty can be counted visible at once. Long before Easter, young people gather firewood; every farmer contributes, adding tar barrels, petroleum containers, and more to the pile. Neighboring villages compete to see which can create the biggest blaze. The fires are always lit, year after year, on the same hill, which often becomes known as Easter Mountain. It is a beautiful sight to watch the bonfires ignite one after another on the surrounding heights. According to local belief, the farther the fire's light reaches, the more fruitful the fields will be, and the homes it illuminates will be safe from fires and illnesses. In Volkmarsen and other areas in Hesse, people used to observe which direction the wind blew the flames, then sow flax seed in that direction, believing it would grow well. Brands taken from the bonfires protect homes from lightning strikes; their ashes boost field fertility, prevent mice infestations, and when mixed with cattle's drinking water, help the animals thrive and guard against disease. As the flames start to die down, both young and old leap over them, and sometimes cattle are driven through the glowing embers. In some areas, tar barrels or straw-wrapped wheels are set on fire and rolled down the hillside. In others, boys ignite torches and straw from the bonfires and run around waving them. In places divided between Protestantism and Catholicism, like Hildesheim, it's noted that among Protestants, the Easter bonfires are typically left to the boys, while in Catholic areas, they are tended to by adults, with the entire community gathering around the fire to sing hymns, their voices echoing through the quiet night.

The Easter fires in Münsterland, Oldenburg, the Harz Mountains, and the Altmark.

In Münsterland these Easter fires are always kindled upon certain definite hills, which are hence known as Easter or Paschal Mountains. The whole community assembles about the fire. Fathers of families form an inner circle round it. An outer circle is composed of the young men and maidens, who, singing Easter hymns, march round and round the fire in the direction of the sun, till the blaze dies down. Then the girls jump over the fire in a line, one after the other, each supported by two young men who hold her hands and run beside her. When the fire has burned out, the whole assembly marches in solemn procession to the church, singing hymns. They go thrice round the church, and then break up. In the twilight boys with [pg 142] blazing bundles of straw run over the fields to make them fruitful.351 At Delmenhorst, in Oldenburg, it used to be the custom to cut down two trees, plant them in the ground side by side, and pile twelve tar-barrels, one above the other, against each of the trees. Brushwood was then heaped about the trees, and on the evening of Easter Saturday the boys, after rushing about with blazing bean-poles in their hands, set fire to the whole. At the end of the ceremony the urchins tried to blacken each other and the clothes of grown-up people.352 In Schaumburg the Easter bonfires may be seen blazing on all the mountains around for miles. They are made with a tar-barrel fastened to a pine-tree, which is wrapt in straw. The people dance singing round them.353 In the Harz Mountains the fire is commonly made by piling brushwood about a tree and setting it on fire. At Osterode every one tries to snatch a brand from the bonfire and runs about with it; the better it burns, the more lucky it is. In Grund there are torch-races.354 In the Altmark the Easter bonfires are composed of tar-barrels, bee-hives, and so forth, piled round a pole. The young folk dance round the fire; and when it has died out, the old folk come and collect the ashes, which they preserve as a remedy for the ailments of bees. It is also believed that as far as the blaze of the bonfire is visible, the corn will grow well throughout the year, and no conflagration will break out.355 At Braunröde, in the Harz Mountains, it was the custom to burn squirrels in the Easter bonfire.356 In the Altmark, bones were burned in it.357

In Münsterland, Easter fires are always lit on specific hills, known as Easter or Paschal Mountains. The whole community gathers around the fire. Families form an inner circle around it. An outer circle consists of young men and women, who sing Easter hymns and march around the fire in the direction of the sun until the flames die down. Then, the girls take turns jumping over the fire, each supported by two young men who hold their hands and run alongside them. Once the fire is out, everyone marches in a solemn procession to the church, singing hymns. They circle the church three times before dispersing. In the twilight, boys with blazing bundles of straw run across the fields to make them fruitful. At Delmenhorst, in Oldenburg, it used to be traditional to cut down two trees, plant them side by side, and stack twelve tar barrels on each tree. Brushwood was piled around the trees, and on Easter Saturday evening, boys, after running around with flaming bean poles, set everything on fire. At the end of the event, the kids would try to blacken each other and the clothes of the adults. In Schaumburg, Easter bonfires can be seen blazing on all the surrounding hills for miles. They are made with a tar barrel attached to a pine tree wrapped in straw, and people dance and sing around them. In the Harz Mountains, the fire is usually created by piling brushwood around a tree and lighting it. In Osterode, everyone tries to grab a brand from the bonfire and run around with it; the better it burns, the luckier it is. In Grund, torch races are held. In the Altmark, Easter bonfires consist of tar barrels, beehives, and other materials stacked around a pole. Young people dance around the fire, and when it goes out, the older folks come to collect the ashes, which they keep as a remedy for bee ailments. It is also believed that as far as the flame from the bonfire is visible, the crops will thrive throughout the year, and no fire will break out. In Braunröde, in the Harz Mountains, it was customary to burn squirrels in the Easter bonfire. In the Altmark, bones were burned in it.

[pg 143]

The Easter bonfires in Bavaria. The burning of Judas. Burning the Easter figure.

Further south the Easter fires are, or used to be, lit in many districts of Bavaria. Thus on Easter Monday in some parts of Middle Franken the schoolboys collect all the old worn-out besoms they can lay hands on, and march with them in a long procession to a neighbouring height. When the first chime of the evening bell comes up from the dale they set fire to the brooms, and run along the ridges waving them, so that seen from below the hills appear to be crested with a twinkling and moving chain of fire.358 In some parts of Upper Bavaria at Easter burning arrows or discs of wood were shot from hill-tops high into the air, as in the Swabian and Swiss customs already described.359 At Oberau, instead of the discs, an old cart-wheel was sometimes wrapt in straw, ignited, and sent rolling and blazing down the mountain. The lads who hurled the discs received painted Easter eggs from the girls.360 Near Forchheim, in Upper Franken, a straw-man called the Judas used to be burned in the churchyards on Easter Saturday. The whole village contributed wood to the pyre on which he perished, and the charred sticks were afterwards kept and planted in the fields on Walpurgis Day (the first of May) to preserve the wheat from blight and mildew.361 About a hundred years ago or more the custom at Althenneberg, in Upper Bavaria, used to be as follows. On the afternoon of Easter Saturday the lads collected wood, which they piled in a cornfield, while in the middle of the pile they set up a tall wooden cross all swathed in straw. After the evening service they lighted their lanterns at the consecrated candle in the church, and ran with them at full speed to the pyre, each striving to get there first. The first to arrive set fire to the heap. No woman or girl might come near the bonfire, but they were allowed to watch it from a distance. As the flames rose the men and lads rejoiced and made merry, shouting, “We are burning the Judas!” Two of them had to watch the glowing embers the whole night long, lest people should come and steal them. Next morning at sunrise they carefully collected the [pg 144] ashes, and threw them into the running water of the Röten brook. The man who had been the first to reach the pyre and to kindle it was rewarded on Easter Sunday by the women, who gave him coloured eggs at the church door. Well-to-do women gave him two; poorer women gave him only one. The object of the whole ceremony was to keep off the hail. About a century ago the Judas fire, as it was called, was put down by the police.362 At Giggenhausen and Aufkirchen, two other villages of Upper Bavaria, a similar custom prevailed, yet with some interesting differences. Here the ceremony, which took place between nine and ten at night on Easter Saturday, was called “burning the Easter Man.” On a height about a mile from the village the young fellows set up a tall cross enveloped in straw, so that it looked like a man with his arms stretched out. This was the Easter Man. No lad under eighteen years of age might take part in the ceremony. One of the young men stationed himself beside the Easter Man, holding in his hand a consecrated taper which he had brought from the church and lighted. The rest stood at equal intervals in a great circle round the cross. At a given signal they raced thrice round the circle, and then at a second signal ran straight at the cross and at the lad with the lighted taper beside it; the one who reached the goal first had the right of setting fire to the Easter Man. Great was the jubilation while he was burning. When he had been consumed in the flames, three lads were chosen from among the rest, and each of the three drew a circle on the ground with a stick thrice round the ashes. Then they all left the spot. On Easter Monday the villagers gathered the ashes and strewed them on their fields; also they planted in the fields palm-branches which had been consecrated on Palm Sunday, and sticks which had been charred and hallowed on Good Friday, all for the purpose of protecting their fields against showers of hail. The custom of burning an Easter Man made of straw on Easter Saturday was observed also at Abensberg, in Lower Bavaria.363 In some parts of Swabia the Easter fires might [pg 145] not be kindled with iron or steel or flint, but only by the friction of wood.364

Further south, the Easter fires are, or used to be, lit in many areas of Bavaria. On Easter Monday in some parts of Middle Franken, schoolboys gather all the old, worn-out brooms they can find and march in a long procession to a nearby hill. When the first sound of the evening bell rings from the valley, they set fire to the brooms and run along the ridges waving them, making it look like the hills are topped with a twinkling and moving chain of fire. In some parts of Upper Bavaria at Easter, burning arrows or wooden discs were shot from hilltops into the air, similar to the customs already described in Swabia and Switzerland. In Oberau, instead of the discs, an old cartwheel was sometimes wrapped in straw, lit on fire, and sent rolling down the mountain in flames. The boys who threw the discs received decorated Easter eggs from the girls. Near Forchheim, in Upper Franken, a straw figure called Judas was burned in churchyards on Easter Saturday. The whole village contributed wood to the pyre where he was burned, and the charred sticks were later saved and planted in the fields on Walpurgis Day (May 1) to protect the wheat from disease. About a hundred years ago or more, the tradition in Althenneberg, Upper Bavaria, was as follows: on Easter Saturday afternoon, the boys collected wood and piled it in a cornfield, placing a tall wooden cross wrapped in straw in the center of the pile. After the evening service, they would light their lanterns at the consecrated candle in the church and race to the pyre, each trying to be the first to arrive. The first one to get there set fire to the pile. No woman or girl could come close to the bonfire, but they could watch from a distance. As the flames rose, the men and boys celebrated, shouting, “We are burning the Judas!” Two of them were responsible for watching the glowing embers all night to prevent anyone from stealing them. The next morning at sunrise, they collected the ashes and tossed them into the running water of the Röten brook. The boy who was first to reach the pyre and light it was rewarded on Easter Sunday with colored eggs from the women at the church door. Wealthier women gave him two, while poorer women gave him just one. The whole point of the ceremony was to ward off hail. About a century ago, the police put a stop to the Judas fire. In Giggenhausen and Aufkirchen, two other villages in Upper Bavaria, a similar tradition took place, but with some interesting differences. This ceremony, which happened between nine and ten at night on Easter Saturday, was called “burning the Easter Man.” On a hill about a mile from the village, the young men built a tall cross covered in straw so it looked like a man stretching out his arms. This was the Easter Man. No boy under eighteen could participate in the ritual. One young man stood beside the Easter Man holding a blessed taper he had brought from the church and lit. The rest stood evenly spaced in a large circle around the cross. At a certain signal, they raced three times around the circle, and at a second signal, they ran straight for the cross and the boy with the lit taper next to it; the first one to reach the goal had the honor of setting fire to the Easter Man. They celebrated joyously while he burned. Once he was consumed in flames, three boys were chosen from the others, and each drew a circle around the ashes with a stick three times. Then they all left the area. On Easter Monday, the villagers gathered the ashes and spread them on their fields; they also planted in the fields palm branches that had been blessed on Palm Sunday and sticks that had been burned and blessed on Good Friday, all to protect their fields from hailstorms. The tradition of burning a straw Easter Man on Easter Saturday was also followed in Abensberg, Lower Bavaria. In some parts of Swabia, the Easter fires could not be lit with iron or steel or flint, but only by rubbing wood together.

The Easter bonfires in Baden. “Thunder poles.”

In Baden bonfires are still kindled in the churchyards on Easter Saturday, and ecclesiastical refuse of various sorts, such as candle-ends, old surplices, and the wool used by the priest in the application of extreme unction, is consumed in the flames. At Zoznegg down to about 1850 the fire was lighted by the priest by means of a flint which had never been used before. People bring sticks, especially oaken sticks, char them in the fire, and then carry them home and keep them in the house as a preservative against lightning. At Zoznegg these oaken sticks were sword-shaped, each about an ell and a half long, and they went by the name of “weather or thunder poles” (Wetterpfähle). When a thunder-storm threatened to break out, one of the sticks was put into a small fire, in order that the hallowed smoke, ascending to the clouds, might ward off the lightning from the house and the hail from the fields and gardens. At Schöllbronn the oaken sticks, which are thus charred in the Easter bonfire and kept in the house as a protective against thunder and lightning, are three in number, perhaps with an allusion to the Trinity; they are brought every Easter to be consecrated afresh in the bonfire, till they are quite burnt away. In the lake district of Baden it is also customary to burn one of these holy sticks in the fire when a heavy thunderstorm is raging.365 Hence it seems that the ancient association of the oak with the thunder366 persists in the minds of German peasants to the present day.

In Baden, bonfires are still lit in the churchyards on Easter Saturday, and various ecclesiastical scraps, like candle stubs, old surplices, and the wool used by the priest for extreme unction, are burnt in the flames. In Zoznegg, up until around 1850, the fire was started by the priest using a flint that had never been used before. People bring sticks, especially oak sticks, char them in the fire, and then take them home to keep in the house as protection against lightning. In Zoznegg, these oak sticks were sword-shaped, each about one and a half yards long, and were called “weather or thunder poles” (Wetterpfähle). When a thunderstorm was about to hit, one of the sticks was placed in a small fire so that the sacred smoke rising to the clouds could protect the house from lightning and keep hail away from the fields and gardens. In Schöllbronn, the oak sticks charred in the Easter bonfire and kept in the house as protection against thunder and lightning number three, possibly as a reference to the Trinity; they are brought every Easter to be blessed again in the bonfire until they are completely burned away. In the lake district of Baden, it is also a tradition to burn one of these holy sticks during a heavy thunderstorm. Hence, it seems that the ancient connection between the oak and thunder continues in the minds of German peasants today.

Easter bonfires in the Netherlands and Sweden. The burning of Judas in Bohemia.

Thus the custom of the Easter fires appears to have prevailed all over central and western Germany from north to south. We find it also in Holland, where the fires were kindled on the highest eminences, and the people danced round them and leaped through the flames or over the glowing embers. Here too, as so often in Germany, the materials for the bonfire were collected by the young folk [pg 146] from door to door.367 In many parts of Sweden firearms are, as at Athens, discharged in all directions on Easter eve, and huge bonfires are lighted on hills and eminences. Some people think that the intention is to keep off the Troll and other evil spirits who are especially active at this season.368 When the afternoon service on Good Friday is over, German children in Bohemia drive Judas out of the church by running about the sacred edifice and even the streets shaking rattles and clappers. Next day, on Easter Saturday, the remains of the holy oil are burnt before the church door in a fire which must be kindled with flint and steel. This fire is called “the burning of Judas,” but in spite of its evil name a beneficent virtue is ascribed to it, for the people scuffle for the cinders, which they put in the roofs of their houses as a safeguard against fire and lightning.369

The tradition of Easter fires seems to have been widespread across central and western Germany, from north to south. It's also found in Holland, where the fires were lit on the highest hills, and people danced around them and jumped through the flames or over the glowing coals. Similarly to Germany, the young people gathered materials for the bonfire by going from door to door.[pg 146] In many regions of Sweden, as in Athens, guns are fired in all directions on Easter eve, and large bonfires are lit on hills and ridges. Some believe the purpose is to ward off trolls and other evil spirits that are particularly active during this time.“the burning of Judas” After the Good Friday afternoon service, German children in Bohemia chase Judas out of the church by running around the sacred building and even the streets, shaking rattles and clappers. The next day, on Easter Saturday, the leftover holy oil is burned in a fire that must be started with flint and steel. This fire is referred to as"the burning of Judas," but despite its ominous name, people attribute a positive quality to it, as they fight for the ashes to place in their roofs as a protection against fire and lightning.[pg 146]

The Beltane Fires.

The Beltane fires on May 1st in the Highlands of Scotland. A description of the Beltane fires by John Ramsay of Ochtertyre in the 18th century.

In the central Highlands of Scotland bonfires, known as the Beltane fires, were formerly kindled with great ceremony on the first of May, and the traces of human sacrifices at them were particularly clear and unequivocal. The custom of lighting the bonfires lasted in various places far into the eighteenth century, and the descriptions of the ceremony by writers of that period present such a curious and interesting picture of ancient heathendom surviving in our own country that I will reproduce them in the words of their authors. The fullest of the descriptions, so far as I know, is the one bequeathed to us by John Ramsay, laird of Ochtertyre, near Crieff, the patron of Burns and the friend of Sir [pg 147] Walter Scott. From his voluminous manuscripts, written in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, a selection was published in the latter part of the nineteenth century. The following account of Beltane is extracted from a chapter dealing with Highland superstitions. Ramsay says: “But the most considerable of the Druidical festivals is that of Beltane, or May-day, which was lately observed in some parts of the Highlands with extraordinary ceremonies. Of later years it is chiefly attended to by young people, persons advanced in years considering it as inconsistent with their gravity to give it any countenance. Yet a number of circumstances relative to it may be collected from tradition, or the conversation of very old people, who witnessed this feast in their youth, when the ancient rites were better observed.

In the central Highlands of Scotland, bonfires, known as the Beltane fires, were once lit with great ceremony on May 1st, and the evidence of human sacrifices made at them was very clear. The tradition of lighting these bonfires continued in various places well into the eighteenth century, and the accounts of the ceremonies by writers from that time provide a fascinating glimpse into ancient pagan practices that persisted in our country, so I will share them in the words of their authors. The most comprehensive description, as far as I know, comes from John Ramsay, laird of Ochtertyre, near Crieff, a patron of Burns and friend of Sir [pg 147] Walter Scott. A selection from his extensive manuscripts, written in the late eighteenth century, was published in the latter part of the nineteenth century. The following account of Beltane is taken from a chapter about Highland superstitions. Ramsay writes: "But the most important of the Druid festivals is Beltane, or May Day, which was recently celebrated in some areas of the Highlands with impressive ceremonies. Nowadays, it’s mostly young people who participate, while older folks think it’s not fitting for them to join in. However, you can learn various details about it from tradition or by talking to very old people who experienced this festival in their youth when the ancient rituals were more properly followed."

Need fire.

“This festival is called in Gaelic Beal-tenei.e., the fire of Bel.... Like the other public worship of the Druids, the Beltane feast seems to have been performed on hills or eminences. They thought it degrading to him whose temple is the universe, to suppose that he would dwell in any house made with hands. Their sacrifices were therefore offered in the open air, frequently upon the tops of hills, where they were presented with the grandest views of nature, and were nearest the seat of warmth and order. And, according to tradition, such was the manner of celebrating this festival in the Highlands within the last hundred years. But since the decline of superstition, it has been celebrated by the people of each hamlet on some hill or rising ground around which their cattle were pasturing. Thither the young folks repaired in the morning, and cut a trench, on the summit of which a seat of turf was formed for the company. And in the middle a pile of wood or other fuel was placed, which of old they kindled with tein-eigini.e., forced-fire or need-fire. Although, for many years past, they have been contented with common fire, yet we shall now describe the process, because it will hereafter appear that recourse is still had to the tein-eigin upon extraordinary emergencies.

This festival is called in Gaelic Beal-tenei.e., the fire of Bel. Like other public ceremonies of the Druids, the Beltane feast was usually held on hills or high places. They thought it was beneath the one whose temple is the universe to reside in any man-made structure. So, their offerings were made outdoors, often at the tops of hills, where they could enjoy the best views of nature and feel closer to warmth and order. According to tradition, this is how the festival was celebrated in the Highlands for the past hundred years. However, as belief in superstition declined, it has been celebrated by people in each village on some hill or rise near where their cattle grazed. Young people would go there in the morning and dig a trench, on top of which they made a turf seat for the guests. In the center, they placed a pile of wood or other fuel, which they used to ignite with tein-eigini.e., forced-fire or need-fire. Although they have been content with regular fire for many years, we will now explain the process, as it will become clear later that they still turn to tein-eigin in extraordinary situations.

Need-fire created by rubbing oak wood together.

“The night before, all the fires in the country were carefully extinguished, and next morning the materials for exciting this sacred fire were prepared. The most primitive method seems to be that which was used in the islands of [pg 148] Skye, Mull, and Tiree. A well-seasoned plank of oak was procured, in the midst of which a hole was bored. A wimble of the same timber was then applied, the end of which they fitted to the hole. But in some parts of the mainland the machinery was different. They used a frame of green wood, of a square form, in the centre of which was an axle-tree. In some places three times three persons, in others three times nine, were required for turning round by turns the axle-tree or wimble. If any of them had been guilty of murder, adultery, theft, or other atrocious crime, it was imagined either that the fire would not kindle, or that it would be devoid of its usual virtue. So soon as any sparks were emitted by means of the violent friction, they applied a species of agaric which grows on old birch-trees, and is very combustible. This fire had the appearance of being immediately derived from heaven, and manifold were the virtues ascribed to it. They esteemed it a preservative against witchcraft, and a sovereign remedy against malignant diseases, both in the human species and in cattle; and by it the strongest poisons were supposed to have their nature changed.

The night before, all the fires in the country were carefully extinguished, and the next morning, the materials to create this sacred fire were prepared. The most basic method appears to be the one used on the islands of [pg 148] Skye, Mull, and Tiree. They used a well-seasoned oak plank with a hole drilled in the center. A wimble made from the same type of wood was then inserted into the hole. In some areas of the mainland, they used a different method; a square frame made of green wood held an axle in the middle. In some places, nine people would take turns rotating the axle, while in others, just three were sufficient. If any of the participants had committed murder, adultery, theft, or another serious crime, it was believed that the fire either wouldn’t ignite or wouldn’t have its usual potency. As soon as sparks were created from the friction, they used a type of fungus found on old birch trees, which is highly flammable. This fire seemed to come straight from heaven, and many benefits were attributed to it. People believed it protected against witchcraft and served as a potent cure for serious illnesses in both humans and animals; it was also thought to change the nature of even the strongest poisons.

The Beltane cake and the Beltane carlinecailleach).

“After kindling the bonfire with the tein-eigin the company prepared their victuals. And as soon as they had finished their meal, they amused themselves a while in singing and dancing round the fire. Towards the close of the entertainment, the person who officiated as master of the feast produced a large cake baked with eggs and scalloped round the edge, called am bonnach beal-tinei.e., the Beltane cake. It was divided into a number of pieces, and distributed in great form to the company. There was one particular piece which whoever got was called cailleach beal-tinei.e., the Beltane carline, a term of great reproach. Upon his being known, part of the company laid hold of him and made a show of putting him into the fire; but the majority interposing, he was rescued. And in some places they laid him flat on the ground, making as if they would quarter him. Afterwards, he was pelted with egg-shells, and retained the odious appellation during the whole year. And while the feast was fresh in people's memory, they affected to speak of the cailleach beal-tine as dead.

After they lit the bonfire with the tein-eigin, the group got ready to eat. Once they finished their meal, they entertained themselves by singing and dancing around the fire. Towards the end of the celebration, the person in charge of the feast brought out a large cake made with eggs and decorated around the edges, called am bonnach beal-tinei.e., the Beltane cake. It was cut into several pieces and ceremoniously handed out to everyone. One special piece was given to someone who would be called cailleach beal-tinei.e., the Beltane carline, a term of great disrespect. When it was revealed who received it, some of the company grabbed him and pretended to throw him into the fire; however, most intervened, and he was saved. In some places, they would lay him flat on the ground, pretending to quarter him. Later, he was pelted with eggshells and kept the unpleasant title for the entire year. While the feast was still fresh in everyone’s mind, they pretended to speak of the cailleach beal-tine as if he were dead.

[pg 149]

Local variations in the Beltane cakes.

“This festival was longest observed in the interior Highlands, for towards the west coast the traces of it are faintest. In Glenorchy and Lorne, a large cake is made on that day, which they consume in the house; and in Mull it has a large hole in the middle, through which each of the cows in the fold is milked. In Tiree it is of a triangular form. The more elderly people remember when this festival was celebrated without-doors with some solemnity in both these islands. There are at present no vestiges of it in Skye or the Long Island, the inhabitants of which have substituted the connach Micheil or St. Michael's cake. It is made at Michaelmas with milk and oatmeal, and some eggs are sprinkled on its surface. Part of it is sent to the neighbours.

This festival has been celebrated the longest in the interior Highlands, as it’s less noticeable on the west coast. In Glenorchy and Lorne, a large cake is baked on that day, which they enjoy at home; in Mull, it features a big hole in the middle, through which each cow in the fold is milked. In Tiree, it’s shaped like a triangle. Older generations recall when this festival was celebrated outdoors with a serious atmosphere on both islands. Nowadays, there are no signs of it in Skye or the Long Island, where the locals have replaced it with the connach Micheil or St. Michael's cake. It’s prepared at Michaelmas with milk and oatmeal, and some eggs are sprinkled on top. A portion of it is given to the neighbors.

Evidence of two fires at Beltane.

“It is probable that at the original Beltane festival there were two fires kindled near one another. When any person is in a critical dilemma, pressed on each side by unsurmountable difficulties, the Highlanders have a proverb, The e' eada anda theine bealtuini.e., he is between the two Beltane fires. There are in several parts small round hills, which, it is like, owe their present names to such solemn uses. One of the highest and most central in Icolmkil is called Cnoch-nan-ainneali.e., the hill of the fires. There is another of the same name near the kirk of Balquhidder; and at Killin there is a round green eminence which seems to have been raised by art. It is called Tom-nan-ainneali.e., the eminence of the fires. Around it there are the remains of a circular wall about two feet high. On the top a stone stands upon end. According to the tradition of the inhabitants, it was a place of Druidical worship; and it was afterwards pitched on as the most venerable spot for holding courts of justice for the country of Breadalbane. The earth of this eminence is still thought to be possessed of some healing virtue, for when cattle are observed to be diseased some of it is sent for, which is rubbed on the part affected.”370

It's likely that at the original Beltane festival, two fires were lit close to each other. When someone is in a tough situation, stuck between two impossible choices, the Highlanders say, The e' eada anda theine bealtuini.e., they are between the two Beltane fires. In various places, there are small round hills that probably got their names from such important traditions. One of the tallest and most central in Icolmkil is called Cnoch-nan-ainneali.e., the hill of the fires. There's another with the same name near the church of Balquhidder, and at Killin, there's a round green hill that looks man-made. It's called Tom-nan-ainneali.e., the hill of the fires. Surrounding it are the remains of a circular wall about two feet high. On top, there's a stone standing upright. According to local tradition, it was a place for Druid worship and later became the most respected site for holding courts of justice for the Breadalbane region. The earth from this hill is still believed to have healing properties; when cattle are sick, some of it is taken and rubbed on the affected area.370

[pg 150]

Beltane fires and cakes in the Callander parish.

In the parish of Callander, a beautiful district of western Perthshire, the Beltane custom was still in vogue towards the end of the eighteenth century. It has been described as follows by the parish minister of the time: “Upon the first day of May, which is called Beltan, or Bal-tein day, all the boys in a township or hamlet, meet in the moors. They cut a table in the green sod, of a round figure, by casting a trench in the ground, of such circumference as to hold the whole company. They kindle a fire, and dress a repast of eggs and milk in the consistence of a custard. They knead a cake of oatmeal, which is toasted at the embers against a stone. After the custard is eaten up, they divide the cake into so many portions, as similar as possible to one another in size and shape, as there are persons in the company. They daub one of these portions all over with charcoal, until it be perfectly black. They put all the bits of the cake into a bonnet. Every one, blindfold, draws out a portion. He who holds the bonnet, is entitled to the last bit. Whoever draws the black bit, is the devoted person who is to be sacrificed to Baal,371 whose favour they mean to implore, in [pg 151] rendering the year productive of the sustenance of man and [pg 152] beast. There is little doubt of these inhuman sacrifices having been once offered in this country, as well as in the east, although they now pass from the act of sacrificing, and only compel the devoted person to leap three times through the flames; with which the ceremonies of this festival are closed.”372

In the parish of Callander, a beautiful area in western Perthshire, the Beltane tradition was still practiced toward the end of the eighteenth century. The parish minister of that time described it as follows: On the first day of May, known as Beltan or Bal-tein day, all the boys in a town or village gather on the moors. They carve out a round table in the green grass by digging a trench in the ground, big enough to circle the whole group. They start a fire and prepare a meal of eggs and milk that feels like custard. They mix a cake from oatmeal, which is toasted over the embers against a stone. After eating the custard, they divide the cake into as many pieces as there are people, trying to make them as similar in size and shape as possible. One of these pieces is covered completely in charcoal until it’s entirely black. They put all the pieces of cake into a hat. Everyone, blindfolded, picks a piece. The person holding the hat gets the last piece. Whoever draws the black piece is the devoted person meant to be sacrificed to Baal, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, whose favor they seek to gain for a fruitful year providing sustenance for both people and [pg 151] animals. It’s clear that these brutal sacrifices were once carried out in this country and in the east, although they've now changed from actual sacrifices to only requiring the devoted person to jump three times through the flames; and that's how the ceremonies of this festival come to an end.372

Pennant's account of the Beltane fires and cakes in Perthshire.

Thomas Pennant, who travelled in Perthshire in the year 1769, tells us that “on the first of May, the herdsmen of every village hold their Bel-tien, a rural sacrifice. They cut a square trench on the ground, leaving the turf in the middle; on that they make a fire of wood, on which they dress a large caudle of eggs, butter, oatmeal and milk; and bring besides the ingredients of the caudle, plenty of beer and whisky; for each of the company must contribute something. The rites begin with spilling some of the caudle on the ground, by way of libation: on that every one takes a cake of oatmeal, upon which are raised nine square knobs, each dedicated to some particular being, the supposed preserver of their flocks and herds, or to some particular animal, the real destroyer of them: each person then turns his face to the fire, breaks off a knob, and flinging it over his shoulders, says, ‘This I give to thee, preserve thou my horses; this to thee, preserve thou my sheep; and so on.’ After that, they use the same ceremony to the noxious animals: ‘This I give to thee, O fox! spare thou my lambs; this to thee, O hooded crow! this to thee, O eagle!’ When the ceremony is over, they dine on the caudle; and after the feast is finished, what is left is hid by two persons deputed for that purpose; but on the next Sunday they re-assemble, and finish the reliques of the first entertainment.”373

Thomas Pennant, who traveled in Perthshire in 1769, tells us that On May 1st, the herdsmen from every village celebrate their Bel-tien, a rural sacrifice. They dig a square trench in the ground, leaving the turf in the center; on that, they build a fire with wood, where they prepare a large caudle made of eggs, butter, oatmeal, and milk. In addition to the caudle ingredients, they bring plenty of beer and whisky since everyone in the group must contribute something. The rituals start with spilling some of the caudle on the ground as a libation. Then everyone takes a cake of oatmeal with nine square knobs on it, each dedicated to a specific being believed to protect their livestock or a particular animal that harms them. Each person then faces the fire, breaks off a knob, and tosses it over their shoulder, saying, ‘This I give to you, preserve my horses; this to you, preserve my sheep; and so on.’ After that, they perform the same ceremony for the harmful animals: ‘This I give to you, O fox! spare my lambs; this to you, O hooded crow! this to you, O eagle!’ Once the ceremony is complete, they feast on the caudle, and after the meal, what remains is hidden by two chosen people. The following Sunday, they gather again to finish the leftovers from the first gathering.373

Beltane cakes and fires in the parishes of Logierait and Kirkmichael. Omens interpreted from the cakes.

Another writer of the eighteenth century has described the Beltane festival as it was held in the parish of Logierait in Perthshire. He says: “On the first of May, O.S., a festival called Beltan is annually held here. It is chiefly celebrated by the cow-herds, who assemble by scores in the fields, to dress a dinner for themselves, of boiled milk [pg 153] and eggs. These dishes they eat with a sort of cakes baked for the occasion, and having small lumps in the form of nipples, raised all over the surface.”374 In this last account no mention is made of bonfires, but they were probably lighted, for a contemporary writer informs us that in the parish of Kirkmichael, which adjoins the parish of Logierait on the east, the custom of lighting a fire in the fields and baking a consecrated cake on the first of May was not quite obsolete in his time.375 We may conjecture that the cake with knobs was formerly used for the purpose of determining who should be the “Beltane carline” or victim doomed to the flames. A trace of this custom survived, perhaps, in the custom of baking oatmeal cakes of a special kind and rolling them down hill about noon on the first of May; for it was thought that the person whose cake broke as it rolled would die or be unfortunate within the year. These cakes, or bannocks as we call them in Scotland, were baked in the usual way, but they were washed over with a thin batter composed of whipped egg, milk or cream, and a little oatmeal. This custom appears to have prevailed at or near Kingussie in Inverness-shire. At Achterneed, near Strathpeffer in Ross-shire, the Beltane bannocks were called tcharnican or hand-cakes, because they were kneaded entirely in the hand, and not on a board or table like common cakes; and after being baked they might not be placed anywhere but in the hands of the children who were to eat them.376

Another writer from the eighteenth century described the Beltane festival as it took place in the parish of Logierait in Perthshire. He says: Every year on May 1st, according to the Old Style calendar, a festival called Beltan takes place here. It's primarily celebrated by the cow-herds, who come together in groups in the fields to prepare a meal for themselves that includes boiled milk [pg 153] and eggs. They enjoy these dishes with a special cake made for the occasion, which has small lumps all over its surface that are shaped like nipples.374 This account doesn’t mention bonfires, but they were likely lit, as a contemporary writer tells us that in the parish of Kirkmichael, which is next to Logierait to the east, the tradition of lighting a fire in the fields and baking a special cake on May 1st was still somewhat alive in his time.375 We can guess that the cake with lumps was previously used to decide who would be the "Beltane spirit" or victim meant for the flames. A remnant of this practice may live on in the custom of baking a specific kind of oatmeal cake and rolling it downhill around noon on May 1st; as it was believed that the person whose cake broke while rolling would face death or misfortune within the year. These cakes, or bannocks as we call them in Scotland, were baked in the usual way but were brushed with a thin batter made of whipped egg, milk or cream, and a bit of oatmeal. This custom seems to have been common at or near Kingussie in Inverness-shire. At Achterneed, near Strathpeffer in Ross-shire, the Beltane bannocks were called tcharnican or hand-cakes because they were kneaded entirely by hand, not on a board or table like regular cakes; and after baking, they could only be placed in the hands of the children who were going to eat them.376

Beltane fires in the northeast of Scotland to burn the witches. Burning the witches. The Beltane cake.

In the north-east of Scotland the Beltane fires were still kindled in the latter half of the eighteenth century; the herdsmen of several farms used to gather dry wood, kindle it, and dance three times “southways” about the burning [pg 154] pile.377 But in this region, according to a later authority, the Beltane fires were lit not on the first but on the second of May, Old Style. They were called bone-fires. The people believed that on that evening and night the witches were abroad and busy casting spells on cattle and stealing cows' milk. To counteract their machinations, pieces of rowan-tree and woodbine, but especially of rowan-tree, were placed over the doors of the cow-houses, and fires were kindled by every farmer and cottar. Old thatch, straw, furze, or broom was piled in a heap and set on fire a little after sunset. While some of the bystanders kept tossing the blazing mass, others hoisted portions of it on pitchforks or poles and ran hither and thither, holding them as high as they could. Meantime the young people danced round the fire or ran through the smoke shouting, “Fire! blaze and burn the witches; fire! fire! burn the witches.” In some districts a large round cake of oat or barley meal was rolled through the ashes. When all the fuel was consumed, the people scattered the ashes far and wide, and till the night grew quite dark they continued to run through them, crying, “Fire! burn the witches.”378

In the northeast of Scotland, the Beltane fires were still lit in the later part of the eighteenth century. The herdsmen from several farms would gather dry wood, set it on fire, and dance three times “southward” around the burning [pg 154] pile. However, in this area, according to a later source, the Beltane fires were ignited not on the first but on the second of May, Old Style. They were known as bone-fires. The locals believed that on that evening and night, witches would be active, casting spells on livestock and stealing cows' milk. To counteract their evil, pieces of rowan tree and honeysuckle, especially rowan tree, were placed over the doors of the cow sheds, and every farmer and cottar would light fires. Old thatch, straw, gorse, or broom was stacked into a heap and set on fire shortly after sunset. While some of the spectators kept tossing the burning pile, others raised portions of it on pitchforks or poles and ran around, holding them as high as possible. Meanwhile, the young people danced around the fire or ran through the smoke shouting, “Fire! Set the witches ablaze; fire! fire! Burn the witches.” In some areas, a large round cake made of oat or barley flour was rolled through the ashes. Once all the fuel was burned up, the people scattered the ashes far and wide, and until it got completely dark, they continued to run through the ashes, chanting, "Fire! Burn the witches."

Beltane cakes and bonfires in the Hebrides.

In the Hebrides “the Beltane bannock is smaller than that made at St. Michael's, but is made in the same way; it is no longer made in Uist, but Father Allan remembers seeing his grandmother make one about twenty-five years ago. There was also a cheese made, generally on the first of May, which was kept to the next Beltane as a sort of charm against the bewitching of milk-produce. The Beltane customs seem to have been the same as elsewhere. Every fire was put out and a large one lit on the top of the hill, and the cattle driven round it sunwards (dessil), to keep off murrain all the year. Each man would take home fire wherewith to kindle his own.”379

In the Hebrides The Beltane bannock is smaller than the one made at St. Michael's, but it's prepared in the same way. It's no longer made in Uist, but Father Allan remembers seeing his grandmother make one about twenty-five years ago. A cheese was also made, usually on the first of May, which was kept until the next Beltane as a sort of charm against the bewitching of dairy products. The Beltane customs appear to have been similar to those elsewhere. Every fire was extinguished, and a big one was lit on top of the hill, with the cattle driven around it clockwise (dessil) to keep diseases away all year. Each man would take home fire to light his own.379

[pg 155]

Beltane fires and cakes in Wales.

In Wales also the custom of lighting Beltane fires at the beginning of May used to be observed, but the day on which they were kindled varied from the Eve of May Day to the third of May. The flame was sometimes elicited by the friction of two pieces of oak, as appears from the following description. “The fire was done in this way. Nine men would turn their pockets inside out, and see that every piece of money and all metals were off their persons. Then the men went into the nearest woods, and collected sticks of nine different kinds of trees. These were carried to the spot where the fire had to be built. There a circle was cut in the sod, and the sticks were set crosswise. All around the circle the people stood and watched the proceedings. One of the men would then take two bits of oak, and rub them together until a flame was kindled. This was applied to the sticks, and soon a large fire was made. Sometimes two fires were set up side by side. These fires, whether one or two, were called coelcerth or bonfire. Round cakes of oatmeal and brown meal were split in four, and placed in a small flour-bag, and everybody present had to pick out a portion. The last bit in the bag fell to the lot of the bag-holder. Each person who chanced to pick up a piece of brown-meal cake was compelled to leap three times over the flames, or to run thrice between the two fires, by which means the people thought they were sure of a plentiful harvest. Shouts and screams of those who had to face the ordeal could be heard ever so far, and those who chanced to pick the oatmeal portions sang and danced and clapped their hands in approval, as the holders of the brown bits leaped three times over the flames, or ran three times between the two fires. As a rule, no danger attended [pg 156] these curious celebrations, but occasionally somebody's clothes caught fire, which was quickly put out. The greatest fire of the year was the eve of May, or May first, second, or third. The Midsummer Eve fire was more for the harvest. Very often a fire was built on the eve of November. The high ground near the Castle Ditches at Llantwit Major, in the Vale of Glamorgan, was a familiar spot for the Beltane on May third and on Midsummer Eve.... Sometimes the Beltane fire was lighted by the flames produced by stone instead of wood friction. Charred logs and faggots used in the May Beltane were carefully preserved, and from them the next fire was lighted. May fires were always started with old faggots of the previous year, and midsummer from those of the last summer. It was unlucky to build a midsummer fire from May faggots. People carried the ashes left after these fires to their homes, and a charred brand was not only effectual against pestilence, but magical in its use. A few of the ashes placed in a person's shoes protected the wearer from any great sorrow or woe.”380

In Wales, the tradition of lighting Beltane fires at the start of May used to be practiced, but the date they were lit varied from the night before May Day to May 3rd. Sometimes, the fire was created by rubbing two pieces of oak together, as shown in the following description. The fire was made like this. Nine men would turn their pockets inside out to make sure they had no money or metal on them. Then they would go into the nearest woods to gather sticks from nine different types of trees. They carried these sticks to the spot where the fire would be built. There, they cut a circle in the ground and placed the sticks in a crisscross pattern. Everyone stood around the circle, watching. One man would take two pieces of oak and rub them together until a flame ignited. This flame would then be used to light the sticks, quickly creating a big fire. Sometimes, two fires would be set up side by side. These fires, whether one or two, were called coelcerth or bonfire. Round cakes made from oatmeal and brown meal were split into four pieces and placed in a small flour bag, and everyone present had to take a portion. The last piece in the bag went to the person holding the bag. Anyone who picked up a piece of brown-meal cake had to jump over the flames three times or run three times between the two fires, which was believed to guarantee a good harvest. Shouts and screams from those taking on this challenge could be heard from far away, while those who received oatmeal portions sang, danced, and clapped as the brown-meal holders jumped over the flames or ran between the fires. Generally, these unique celebrations were not dangerous, but occasionally someone’s clothes would catch fire, which was quickly extinguished. The biggest fire of the year occurred on the eve of May or on May 1st, 2nd, or 3rd. The midsummer fire was more focused on the harvest. A fire was often lit on the eve of November as well. The high ground near the Castle Ditches at Llantwit Major in the Vale of Glamorgan was a popular place for Beltane on May 3rd and on Midsummer Eve. Sometimes, the Beltane fire was started by friction from stone instead of wood. Charred logs and twigs from the May Beltane were carefully saved for the next fire. May fires were always lit with old twigs from the previous year, and midsummer fires used twigs from the last summer. It was considered unlucky to start midsummer fires with May twigs. People would take the ashes from these fires back to their homes, and a charred stick was believed to protect against disease and hold magical properties. A little bit of ash in a person’s shoes was said to guard the wearer against major sadness or grief.380

The Welsh believed that crossing over or between the fires would guarantee good harvests.

From the foregoing account we learn that bonfires were kindled in Wales on Midsummer Eve and Hallowe'en (the thirty-first of October), as well as at the beginning of May, but that the Beltane fires in May were deemed the most important. To the Midsummer Eve and Hallowe'en fires we shall return presently. The belief of the people that by leaping thrice over the bonfires or running thrice between them they ensured a plentiful harvest is worthy of note. The mode in which this result was supposed to be brought about is indicated by another writer on Welsh folk-lore, according to whom it used to be held that “the bonfires lighted in May or Midsummer protected the lands from sorcery, so that good crops would follow. The ashes were also considered valuable as charms.”381 Hence it appears that the heat of the fires was thought to fertilize the fields, not directly by quickening the seeds in the ground, but indirectly by counteracting the baleful influence [pg 157] of witchcraft or perhaps by burning up the persons of the witches.

From the above account, we learn that bonfires were lit in Wales on Midsummer Eve and Halloween (October 31), as well as at the beginning of May, but the Beltane fires in May were considered the most important. We will return to the Midsummer Eve and Halloween fires shortly. It’s noteworthy that people believed that jumping three times over the bonfires or running three times between them would ensure a bountiful harvest. Another writer on Welsh folklore explains that it was thought that "The bonfires lit in May or on Midsummer protected the land from witchcraft, resulting in good crops. The ashes were also considered valuable charms."381 Thus, it seems the heat of the fires was believed to fertilize the fields, not directly by stimulating the seeds in the soil, but indirectly by countering the harmful effects [pg 157] of witchcraft or perhaps by burning the witches themselves.

Beltane fires on the Isle of Man to burn the witches. Beltane fires in Nottinghamshire.

“The Druidical anniversary of Beil or Baal is still celebrated in the Isle of Man. On the first of May, 1837, the Baal fires were, as usual on that day, so numerous as to give the island the appearance of a general conflagration.”382 By May Day in Manx folk-lore is meant May Day Old Style, or Shenn Laa Boaldyn, as it is called in Manx. The day was one on which the power of elves and witches was particularly dreaded, and the people resorted to many precautions in order to protect themselves against these mischievous beings. Hence at daybreak they set fire to the ling or gorse, for the purpose of burning out the witches, who are wont to lurk in the form of hares.383 On the Hemlock Stone, a natural pillar of sandstone standing on Stapleford Hill in Nottinghamshire, a fire used to be solemnly kindled every year on Beltane Eve. The custom seems to have survived down to the beginning of the nineteenth century; old people could remember and describe the ceremony long after it had fallen into desuetude.384

The Druid celebration of Beil or Baal is still celebrated on the Isle of Man. On May 1, 1837, the Baal fires were, as usual on that day, so numerous that the island appeared to be on fire.382 By May Day in Manx folklore, they mean May Day Old Style, or Shenn Laa Boaldyn, which is the Manx term. This day was particularly feared for the power of elves and witches, and people took many precautions to protect themselves from these troublesome beings. So at dawn, they would set fire to the ling or gorse to drive out the witches, who were known to hide in the form of hares.383 On the Hemlock Stone, a natural sandstone pillar on Stapleford Hill in Nottinghamshire, a fire would be solemnly lit every year on Beltane Eve. This tradition seems to have survived until the early nineteenth century; older people could remember and describe the ceremony long after it had fallen out of practice.384

Beltane bonfires in Ireland.

The Beltane fires appear to have been kindled also in Ireland, for Cormac, “or somebody in his name, says that belltaine, May-day, was so called from the ‘lucky fire,’ or the ‘two fires,’ which the druids of Erin used to make on that day with great incantations; and cattle, he adds, used to be brought to those fires, or to be driven between them, as a safeguard against the diseases of the year.”385 Again, a very ancient Irish poem, enumerating the May Day celebrations, mentions among them a bonfire on a hill (tendal ar cnuc); and another old authority says that these fires were kindled in the name of the idol-god Bel.386 From an old life of St. Patrick we learn that on a day [pg 158] in spring the heathen of Ireland were wont to extinguish all their fires until a new fire was kindled with solemn ceremony in the king's house at Tara. In the year in which St. Patrick landed in Ireland it chanced that the night of the extinguished fires coincided with the Eve of Easter; and the saint, ignorant of this pagan superstition, resolved to celebrate his first Easter in Ireland after the true Christian fashion by lighting the holy Paschal fire on the hill of Slane, which rises high above the left bank of the Boyne, about twelve miles from the mouth of the river. So that night, looking from his palace at Tara across the darkened landscape, the king of Tara saw the solitary fire flaring on the top of the hill of Slane, and in consternation he asked his wise men what that light meant. They warned him of the danger that it betokened for the ancient faith of Erin.387 In spite of the difference of date between Easter and Beltane, we may suspect that the new fire annually kindled with solemn ceremony about Easter in the king of Ireland's palace at Tara was no other than the Beltane fire. We have seen that in the Highlands of Scotland down to modern times it was customary to extinguish all fires in the neighbourhood before proceeding to kindle the sacred flame.388 The Irish historian Geoffrey Keating, who wrote in the first part of the seventeenth century, tells us that the men of Ireland held a great fair every year in the month of May at Uisnech (Ushnagh) in the county of Meath, “and at it they were wont to exchange their goods and their wares and their jewels. At it, they were, also, wont to make a sacrifice to the Arch-God that they adored, whose name was Bèl (bayl). It was, likewise, their usage to light two fires to Bèl, in every district of Ireland, at this season, and to drive a pair of each kind of cattle that the district contained, between those two fires, as a preservative to guard them against all the diseases of that year. It is from that fire, thus made in honour of Bèl, that the day [the first of May] on which the noble feast of the apostles, Philip and James, is held, has been called Bèltaini, or Bèaltaine (Bayltinnie); for Beltaini is the same as Bèil-teinè, i.e. Teiné Bhèil (Tinnie Vayl) or [pg 159] Bèl's Fire.”389 The custom of driving cattle through or between fires on May Day or the eve of May Day persisted in Ireland down to a time within living memory. Thus Sir John Rhys was informed by a Manxman that an Irish cattle-dealer of his acquaintance used to drive his cattle through fire on May Day so as to singe them a little, since he believed that it would preserve them from harm. When the Manxman was asked where the dealer came from, he answered, “From the mountains over there,” pointing to the Mourne Mountains then looming faintly in the mists on the western horizon.390

The Beltane fires seem to have also been lit in Ireland, because Cormac, “or someone on his behalf, states that belltaine, May Day, got its name from the ‘lucky fire,’ or the ‘two fires,’ which the druids of Ireland would create on that day with powerful incantations; he also mentions that cattle were brought to those fires or driven between them for protection against the diseases of the year.”385 Again, a very old Irish poem that lists the May Day celebrations mentions a bonfire on a hill (tendal ar cnuc); and another ancient source states that these fires were lit in honor of the idol-god Bel.386 From an old biography of St. Patrick, we learn that on a day [pg 158] in spring, the pagans of Ireland used to extinguish all their fires until a new fire was ceremoniously kindled in the king's house at Tara. The year St. Patrick arrived in Ireland, the night of the extinguished fires happened to coincide with Easter Eve; and the saint, unaware of this pagan custom, decided to celebrate his first Easter in Ireland the true Christian way by lighting the holy Paschal fire on the hill of Slane, which rises high above the left bank of the Boyne, about twelve miles from the river's mouth. So that night, looking from his palace at Tara across the dark landscape, the king of Tara saw the solitary fire blazing on the top of the hill of Slane, and in distress, he asked his wise men what that light meant. They warned him of the danger it posed to the ancient faith of Erin.387 Despite the difference in timing between Easter and Beltane, we can suspect that the new fire, which was annually kindled with solemnity around Easter in the king of Ireland's palace at Tara, was none other than the Beltane fire. We have seen that in the Highlands of Scotland, right up to modern times, it was customary to extinguish all fires nearby before lighting the sacred flame.388 The Irish historian Geoffrey Keating, who wrote in the early seventeenth century, tells us that the people of Ireland held a major fair every year in May at Uisnech (Ushnagh) in Meath, "and there they would exchange their goods, merchandise, and jewels. They would also offer a sacrifice to the Arch-God they worshiped, named Bèl (bayl). They had the tradition of lighting two fires to Bèl in every district of Ireland during this time, and driving a pair of each kind of cattle in the district between those two fires as a protection against all the diseases of that year. It is from that fire, made in honor of Bèl, that the day [the first of May] on which the grand feast of the apostles Philip and James is celebrated has been called Bèltaini, or Bèaltaine (Bayltinnie); for Beltaini is the same as Bèil-teinè, i.e. Teiné Bhèil (Tinnie Vayl) or [pg 159] Bèl's Fire."389 The tradition of driving cattle through or between fires on May Day or the eve of May Day continued in Ireland until relatively recently. For instance, Sir John Rhys learned from a Manxman that an Irish cattle dealer he knew would drive his cattle through fire on May Day to singe them a little, as he believed it would protect them from harm. When the Manxman was asked where the dealer was from, he replied, "From those mountains over there," pointing to the Mourne Mountains faintly visible in the mist on the western horizon.390

Fires on the night before May Day in Sweden. Fires on the night before May Day in Austria and Saxony to burn the witches.

The first of May is a great popular festival in the more midland and southern parts of Sweden. On the eve of the festival, huge bonfires, which should be lighted by striking two flints together, blaze on all the hills and knolls. Every large hamlet has its own fire, round which the young people dance in a ring. The old folk notice whether the flames incline to the north or to the south. In the former case, the spring will be cold and backward; in the latter, it will be mild and genial.391 Similarly, in Bohemia, on the eve of May Day, young people kindle fires on hills and eminences, at crossways, and in pastures, and dance round them. They leap over the glowing embers or even through the flames. The ceremony is called “burning the witches.” In some places an effigy representing a witch used to be burnt in the bonfire.392 We have to remember that the eve of May Day is the notorious Walpurgis Night, when the witches are everywhere speeding unseen through the air on their hellish [pg 160] errands. On this witching night children in Voigtland also light bonfires on the heights and leap over them. Moreover, they wave burning brooms or toss them into the air. So far as the light of the bonfire reaches, so far will a blessing rest on the fields. The kindling of the fires on Walpurgis Night is called “driving away the witches.”393 The custom of kindling fires on the eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night) for the purpose of burning the witches is, or used to be, widespread in the Tyrol, Moravia, Saxony and Silesia.394

The first of May is a major festival in the central and southern regions of Sweden. On the night before the celebration, large bonfires, which should be lit by striking two flints together, blaze on all the hills and knolls. Each big village has its own fire, where young people dance in a circle. The older folks watch to see if the flames flicker north or south. If they lean north, spring will be cold and late; if they lean south, it will be mild and pleasant. 391 Similarly, in Bohemia, on the eve of May Day, young people light fires on hills, at crossroads, and in fields, dancing around them. They leap over the glowing embers or even through the flames. This ceremony is called "burning the witches." In some places, an effigy of a witch used to be burned in the bonfire. 392 We must remember that the eve of May Day is notorious for Walpurgis Night, when witches are said to be flying unseen through the air on their evil missions. On this witching night, children in Voigtland also light bonfires on the hills and jump over them. They also wave burning brooms or toss them into the air. As far as the light of the bonfire reaches, a blessing will fall on the fields. The lighting of the fires on Walpurgis Night is called “banishing the witches.” 393 The tradition of lighting fires on the eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night) to burn witches is or used to be common in the Tyrol, Moravia, Saxony, and Silesia. 394

§ 4. The Midsummer Bonfires.

The main time for fire festivals in Europe is around the summer solstice, Midsummer Eve, or Midsummer Day, which the church has designated for St. John the Baptist. The celebrations include bonfires, torches, and burning wheels.

But the season at which these fire-festivals have been mostly generally held all over Europe is the summer solstice, that is Midsummer Eve (the twenty-third of June) or Midsummer Day (the twenty-fourth of June). A faint tinge of Christianity has been given to them by naming Midsummer Day after St. John the Baptist, but we cannot doubt that the celebration dates from a time long before the beginning of our era. The summer solstice, or Midsummer Day, is the great turning-point in the sun's career, when, after climbing higher and higher day by day in the sky, the luminary stops and thenceforth retraces his steps down the heavenly road. Such a moment could not but be regarded with anxiety by primitive man so soon as he began to observe and ponder the courses of the great lights across the celestial vault; and having still to learn his own powerlessness in face of the vast cyclic changes of nature, he may have fancied that he could help the sun in his seeming decline—could prop his failing [pg 161] steps and rekindle the sinking flame of the red lamp in his feeble hand. In some such thoughts as these the midsummer festivals of our European peasantry may perhaps have taken their rise. Whatever their origin, they have prevailed all over this quarter of the globe, from Ireland on the west to Russia on the east, and from Norway and Sweden on the north to Spain and Greece on the south.395 According to a mediæval writer, the three great features of the midsummer celebration were the bonfires, the procession with torches round the fields, and the custom of rolling a wheel. He tells us that boys burned bones and filth of various kinds to make a foul smoke, and that the smoke drove away certain noxious dragons which at this time, excited by the summer heat, copulated in the air and poisoned the wells and rivers by dropping their seed into them; and he explains the custom of trundling a wheel to mean that the sun, having now reached the highest point in the ecliptic, begins thenceforward to descend.396

But the season when these fire festivals have typically taken place all over Europe is the summer solstice, or Midsummer Eve (June 23) and Midsummer Day (June 24). A slight influence of Christianity has been added by naming Midsummer Day after St. John the Baptist, but it's clear that the celebration goes back to a time long before our era. The summer solstice, or Midsummer Day, marks a significant turning point in the sun's journey, when, after rising higher each day in the sky, the sun stops and begins to move back down the heavenly path. This moment must have caused anxiety for early humans as they started to observe and reflect on the movement of the celestial bodies. Still unaware of their own powerlessness against the vast cyclical changes in nature, they might have thought they could assist the sun in its decline—support its weak steps and reignite the dwindling flame in its fragile hand. The midsummer festivals of our European peasantry may have originated from such thoughts. Regardless of their beginnings, these celebrations have spread across this part of the world, from Ireland in the west to Russia in the east, and from Norway and Sweden in the north to Spain and Greece in the south.395 According to a medieval writer, the three main features of the midsummer celebration were the bonfires, the procession with torches around the fields, and the tradition of rolling a wheel. He mentions that boys burned bones and various kinds of waste to create a foul smoke, which drove away certain poisonous dragons that, during this time of year, were stirred by the summer heat to mate in the air and contaminate the wells and rivers by dropping their seed into them; and he explains the custom of rolling a wheel as a way of signifying that the sun, having reached the highest point on the ecliptic, now begins its descent.396

[pg 162]

Th. Kirchmeyer's account of the Midsummer festival.

A good general account of the midsummer customs, together with some of the reasons popularly alleged for observing them, is given by Thomas Kirchmeyer, a writer of the sixteenth century, in his poem The Popish Kingdome:—

A solid overview of the midsummer traditions, along with some of the common reasons people give for following them, is provided by Thomas Kirchmeyer, a writer from the sixteenth century, in his poem The Catholic Kingdom:—

Then the joyful feast of John the Baptist takes its turn,
When bonfires burn brightly in every town;
Young men and maidens dance in every street.
With garlands made of Motherwort, or sweet Vervain,
And many other beautiful flowers, with Violets in their hands,
They all believe that whoever stands,
And through the flowers, he sees the flame; his eyes will feel no pain.
When they have danced like this until night, they go through the fire.
With determined minds, they race forward, throwing in all their herbs.
Then, with heartfelt words and prayers, they begin solemnly,
Wishing that God lets all their troubles be resolved there,
They believe that throughout the entire year they will be free from fevers.
Some others get a broken wheel, all worn out and thrown away,
Which are covered all around with straw and tow, they hide them well:
And carried to the top of some mountains, all aglow with fire,
They throw it down violently when darkness falls at night:
[pg 163]
Like the Sun that should fall down from the heavens,
It looks like a strange and monstrous sight, and it's frightening to everyone:
But they think all their misdeeds are also cast into hell,
And now, they live here in safety, free from harm and danger.397

From these general descriptions, which to some extent still hold good, or did so till lately, we see that the main features of the midsummer fire-festival resemble those which we have found to characterize the vernal festivals of fire. The similarity of the two sets of ceremonies will plainly appear from the following examples.

From these general descriptions, which to some extent still apply, or did until recently, we see that the main features of the midsummer fire festival are comparable to those that we've identified in the spring fire festivals. The similarities between the two sets of ceremonies will clearly be shown in the following examples.

The Midsummer fires in Germany. The celebration at Konz on the Moselle: rolling a burning wheel down the hill.

A writer of the first half of the sixteenth century informs us that in almost every village and town of Germany public bonfires were kindled on the Eve of St. John, and young and old, of both sexes, gathered about them and passed the time in dancing and singing. People on this occasion wore chaplets of mugwort and vervain, and they looked at the fire through bunches of larkspur which they held in their hands, believing that this would preserve their eyes in a healthy state throughout the year. As each departed, he threw the mugwort and vervain into the fire, saying, “May all my ill-luck depart and be burnt up with these.”398 At Lower Konz, a village prettily situated on a hillside overlooking the Moselle, in the midst of a wood of walnut-trees and fruit-trees, the midsummer festival used to be celebrated as follows. A quantity of straw was collected on the top of the steep Stromberg Hill. Every inhabitant, or at least every householder, had to contribute his share of straw to the pile; a recusant was looked at askance, and if in the course of the year he happened to break a leg or lose a child, there was not a gossip in the village but knew the reason why. At nightfall the whole male population, men and boys, mustered on the top of the hill; the women and girls were not allowed to join them, but had to take up their position at a certain spring half-way down the slope. On the summit stood a huge wheel completely encased in some of the straw which had been jointly contributed by the villagers; the rest of the [pg 164] straw was made into torches. From each side of the wheel the axle-tree projected about three feet, thus furnishing handles to the lads who were to guide it in its descent. The mayor of the neighbouring town of Sierck, who always received a basket of cherries for his services, gave the signal; a lighted torch was applied to the wheel, and as it burst into flame, two young fellows, strong-limbed and swift of foot, seized the handles and began running with it down the slope. A great shout went up. Every man and boy waved a blazing torch in the air, and took care to keep it alight so long as the wheel was trundling down the hill. Some of them followed the fiery wheel, and watched with amusement the shifts to which its guides were put in steering it round the hollows and over the broken ground on the mountainside. The great object of the young men who guided the wheel was to plunge it blazing into the water of the Moselle; but they rarely succeeded in their efforts, for the vineyards which cover the greater part of the declivity impeded their progress, and the wheel was often burned out before it reached the river. As it rolled past the women and girls at the spring, they raised cries of joy which were answered by the men on the top of the mountain; and the shouts were echoed by the inhabitants of neighbouring villages who watched the spectacle from their hills on the opposite bank of the Moselle. If the fiery wheel was successfully conveyed to the bank of the river and extinguished in the water, the people looked for an abundant vintage that year, and the inhabitants of Konz had the right to exact a waggon-load of white wine from the surrounding vineyards. On the other hand, they believed that, if they neglected to perform the ceremony, the cattle would be attacked by giddiness and convulsions and would dance in their stalls.399

A writer from the first half of the sixteenth century tells us that in nearly every village and town in Germany, public bonfires were lit on the Eve of St. John. People of all ages and both sexes gathered around the fires to dance and sing. During this celebration, everyone wore crowns made of mugwort and vervain, and they looked at the flames through bunches of larkspur that they held, believing this would keep their eyes healthy throughout the year. As they left, they threw their mugwort and vervain into the fire, saying, “May all my bad luck leave and be burned away with these.”398 In Lower Konz, a charming village on a hillside overlooking the Moselle, the midsummer festival used to be celebrated like this. A pile of straw was gathered at the top of the steep Stromberg Hill. Every resident, or at least each head of household, had to contribute straw to the pile; anyone who didn’t was eyed suspiciously, and if they happened to suffer a misfortune like breaking a leg or losing a child within the year, everyone in the village would know why. At nightfall, all the men and boys gathered at the top of the hill; the women and girls were not allowed to join them and had to stay at a spring halfway down the slope. At the summit stood a huge wheel covered entirely with some of the straw collected from the villagers; the remaining straw was made into torches. The axle of the wheel extended about three feet on each side, providing handles for the young men who were to guide it down the hill. The mayor of the nearby town of Sierck, who always received a basket of cherries for his help, gave the signal; a lit torch was set to the wheel, and as it caught fire, two strong and swift young men grabbed the handles and started running down the slope. A loud cheer erupted. Every man and boy waved a flaming torch in the air, making sure to keep it lit as long as the wheel rolled down the hill. Some followed the fiery wheel, enjoying the challenges its guides faced as they navigated the dips and rough terrain down the mountainside. The main goal of the young men guiding the wheel was to plunge it, still blazing, into the Moselle, but they rarely succeeded because the vineyards covering most of the slope slowed their progress, and the wheel often burned out before reaching the river. As it rolled past the women and girls at the spring, they cheered, and the men at the top of the mountain responded. The shouts echoed from neighboring villages where residents watched the spectacle from hills on the opposite bank of the Moselle. If the fiery wheel made it successfully to the riverbank and was extinguished in the water, the people expected a plentiful harvest that year, and the residents of Konz had the right to demand a wagon-load of white wine from the surrounding vineyards. Conversely, they believed that if they failed to perform the ceremony, their cattle would suffer from dizziness and convulsions and would dance in their stalls.399

The Midsummer fires in Bavaria. Cattle are led through the fire. The new fire. Signs of the harvest interpreted from the fires. Burning discs tossed into the sky.

Down at least to the middle of the nineteenth century the midsummer fires used to blaze all over Upper Bavaria. [pg 165] They were kindled especially on the mountains, but also far and wide in the lowlands, and we are told that in the darkness and stillness of night the moving groups, lit up by the flickering glow of the flames, presented an impressive spectacle. In some places the people shewed their sense of the sanctity of the fires by using for fuel the trees past which the gay procession had defiled, with fluttering banners, on Corpus Christi Day. In others the children collected the firewood from door to door on the eve of the festival, singing their request for fuel at every house in doggerel verse. Cattle were driven through the fire to cure the sick animals and to guard such as were sound against plague and harm of every kind throughout the year. Many a householder on that day put out the fire on the domestic hearth and rekindled it by means of a brand taken from the midsummer bonfire. The people judged of the height to which the flax would grow in the year by the height to which the flames of the bonfire rose; and whoever leaped over the burning pile was sure not to suffer from backache in reaping the corn at harvest. But it was especially the practice for lovers to spring over the fire hand in hand, and the way in which each couple made the leap was the subject of many a jest and many a superstition. In one district the custom of kindling the bonfires was combined with that of lighting wooden discs and hurling them in the air after the manner which prevails at some of the spring festivals.400 In many parts of Bavaria it was believed that the flax would grow as high as the young people leaped over the fire.401 In others the old folk used to plant three charred sticks from the bonfire in the fields, believing that this would make the flax grow tall.402 Elsewhere an extinguished brand was put in the roof of the house to protect it against fire. In the towns about Würzburg the bonfires used to be kindled in the market-places, and the young people who jumped over them wore garlands of flowers, especially of mugwort and vervain, and carried sprigs of larkspur in their hands. They thought [pg 166] that such as looked at the fire holding a bit of larkspur before their face would be troubled by no malady of the eyes throughout the year.403 Further, it was customary at Würzburg, in the sixteenth century, for the bishop's followers to throw burning discs of wood into the air from a mountain which overhangs the town. The discs were discharged by means of flexible rods, and in their flight through the darkness presented the appearance of fiery dragons.404

Down at least until the middle of the nineteenth century, midsummer fires would blaze all over Upper Bavaria. [pg 165] They were lit especially on the mountains, but also widely in the lowlands. It’s said that in the darkness and stillness of night, the moving groups, illuminated by the flickering flames, created a stunning scene. In some places, people showed their respect for the fires by using for fuel the trees that had been passed by the festive procession, with fluttering banners, on Corpus Christi Day. In other areas, children collected firewood from door to door on the eve of the festival, singing their requests for fuel at each house in playful rhymes. Cattle were driven through the fire to heal sick animals and to protect healthy ones from plagues and harm for the entire year. Many homeowners would put out the fire on their hearth that day and reignite it using a brand taken from the midsummer bonfire. People believed the height of the flames from the bonfire would predict how high the flax would grow that year, and anyone who jumped over the burning pile was sure not to suffer from back pain when harvesting the corn. It was especially common for lovers to jump over the fire hand in hand, and the way each couple made the leap became the subject of many jokes and superstitions. In one area, lighting the bonfires was combined with igniting wooden discs and throwing them in the air, similar to some spring festivals.400 In many parts of Bavaria, it was believed that the flax would grow as high as the young people leaped over the fire.401 In other areas, the elders would plant three charred sticks from the bonfire in the fields, believing this would make the flax grow tall.402 Elsewhere, an extinguished brand was placed on the roof of the house for fire protection. In the towns around Würzburg, bonfires were set up in the markets, and the young people jumping over them wore garlands of flowers, especially mugwort and vervain, and carried sprigs of larkspur in their hands. They believed [pg 166] that anyone looking at the fire while holding a piece of larkspur in front of their face would not suffer from any eye ailments throughout the year.403 Additionally, it was customary in Würzburg during the sixteenth century for the bishop's followers to throw burning wooden discs into the air from a mountain overlooking the town. The discs were launched using flexible rods, and as they flew through the darkness, they looked like fiery dragons.404

The Midsummer fires in Swabia. Signs taken from jumping over the fires. Burning wheels rolled down the hill. Burning the Angel-Man in Rottenburg.

In the valley of the Lech, which divides Upper Bavaria from Swabia, the midsummer customs and beliefs are, or used to be, very similar. Bonfires are kindled on the mountains on Midsummer Day; and besides the bonfire a tall beam, thickly wrapt in straw and surmounted by a cross-piece, is burned in many places. Round this cross as it burns the lads dance with loud shouts; and when the flames have subsided, the young people leap over the fire in pairs, a young man and a young woman together. If they escape unsmirched, the man will not suffer from fever, and the girl will not become a mother within the year. Further, it is believed that the flax will grow that year as high as they leap over the fire; and that if a charred billet be taken from the fire and stuck in a flax-field it will promote the growth of the flax.405 Similarly in Swabia, lads and lasses, hand in hand, leap over the midsummer bonfire, praying that the hemp may grow three ells high, and they set fire to wheels of straw and send them rolling down the hill. Among the places where burning wheels were thus bowled down hill at Midsummer were the Hohenstaufen mountains in Wurtemberg and the Frauenberg near Gerhausen.406 At Deffingen, in Swabia, as the people sprang over the midsummer [pg 167] bonfire they cried out, “Flax, flax! may the flax this year grow seven ells high!”407 At Rottenburg in Swabia, down to the year 1807 or 1808, the festival was marked by some special features. About mid-day troops of boys went about the town begging for firewood at the houses. In each troop there were three leaders, one of whom carried a dagger, a second a paper banner, and a third a white plate covered with a white cloth. These three entered each house and recited verses, in which they expressed an intention of roasting Martin Luther and sending him to the devil; and for this meritorious service they expected to be paid, the contributions being received in the cloth-covered plate. In the evening they counted up their money and proceeded to “behead the Angel-man.” For this ceremony an open space was chosen, sometimes in the middle of the town. Here a stake was thrust into the ground and straw wrapt about it, so as to make a rude effigy of human form with arms, head, and face. Every boy brought a handful of nosegays and fastened them to the straw-man, who was thus enveloped in flowers. Fuel was heaped about the stake and set on fire. When the Angel-man, as the straw-effigy was called, blazed up, all the boys of the neighbourhood, who had gathered expectantly around, fell upon him with their wooden swords and hewed him to pieces. As soon as he had vanished in smoke and flame, the lads leaped backward and forward over the glowing embers, and later in the evening they feasted on the proceeds of their collection.408 Here the Angel-man burnt in the fire appears to be identified with Martin Luther, to whom, as we have seen, allusion was made during the house-to-house visitation. The identification was probably modern, for we may assume that the custom of burning an effigy in the Midsummer bonfire is far older than the time of Luther.

In the valley of the Lech, which separates Upper Bavaria from Swabia, the midsummer traditions and beliefs are, or used to be, quite alike. Bonfires are lit on the mountains on Midsummer Day; in addition to the bonfire, a tall pole wrapped in straw and topped with a cross-piece is burned in many places. Around this burning cross, the young men dance and shout loudly; when the flames die down, the young couples jump over the fire together. If they make it over without getting burned, the guy won't catch a fever, and the girl won't become a mother that year. It's also believed that the flax will grow as tall as they jump over the fire; and if a burned piece of wood is taken from the fire and placed in a flax field, it will help the flax grow. Similarly, in Swabia, boys and girls hold hands and jump over the midsummer bonfire, hoping for the hemp to grow three ells high. They also set fire to straw wheels and let them roll down the hill. Some places where these flaming wheels were rolled down during Midsummer include the Hohenstaufen mountains in Wurtemberg and the Frauenberg near Gerhausen. At Deffingen in Swabia, when people jumped over the midsummer bonfire, they would shout, "Flax, flax! May this year's flax grow seven ells high!" At Rottenburg in Swabia, until around 1807 or 1808, the festival had some unique elements. Around midday, groups of boys would walk around the town asking for firewood from the houses. In each group, there were three leaders: one carried a dagger, another a paper banner, and the third a white plate covered with a cloth. They would enter each house and recite verses expressing their intention to roast Martin Luther and send him to the devil; for this valuable service, they collected contributions in the cloth-covered plate. In the evening, they would count their money and prepare to "behead the Angel-man." For this ceremony, a public space was chosen, sometimes in the town center. They would stick a pole into the ground, wrap it in straw to create a rough effigy shaped like a person, complete with arms, a head, and a face. Each boy brought a handful of flowers and attached them to the straw figure, covering it in blossoms. They would pile fuel around the pole and set it on fire. When the Angel-man, as the straw effigy was called, burst into flames, all the neighborhood boys, who had gathered around in anticipation, would attack it with wooden swords and chop it to bits. After it disappeared in the smoke and fire, the boys jumped back and forth over the glowing embers, and later that evening, they enjoyed a feast with the money they had collected. Here, the burned Angel-man seems to be linked to Martin Luther, as references were made during the house-to-house visits. This connection was likely a more recent interpretation, since the custom of burning an effigy during the Midsummer bonfire is probably much older than Luther's time.

The Midsummer fires in Baden. Signs interpreted from jumping over the fires. Burning discs tossed into the air. Midsummer fires in Alsace, Lorraine, the Eifel, the Harz regions, and Thuringia. A burning barrel swung around a pole.

In Baden the children used to collect fuel from house to house for the Midsummer bonfire on St. John's Day; and lads and lasses leaped over the fire in couples. Here, [pg 168] as elsewhere, a close connexion was traced between these bonfires and the harvest. In some places it was thought that those who leaped over the fires would not suffer from backache at reaping. Sometimes, as the young folk sprang over the flames, they cried, “Grow, that the hemp may be three ells high!” This notion that the hemp or the corn would grow as high as the flames blazed or as the people jumped over them, seems to have been widespread in Baden. It was held that the parents of the young people who bounded highest over the fire would have the most abundant harvest; and on the other hand, if a man contributed nothing to the bonfire, it was imagined that there would be no blessing on his crops, and that his hemp in particular would never grow.409 In the neighbourhood of Bühl and Achern the St. John's fires were kindled on the tops of hills; only the unmarried lads of the village brought the fuel, and only the unmarried young men and women sprang through the flames. But most of the villagers, old and young, gathered round the bonfires, leaving a clear space for the leapers to take their run. One of the bystanders would call out the names of a pair of sweethearts; on which the two would step out from the throng, take each other by the hand, and leap high and lightly through the swirling smoke and flames, while the spectators watched them critically and drew omens of their married life from the height to which each of them bounded. Such an invitation to jump together over the bonfire was regarded as tantamount to a public betrothal.410 Near Offenburg, in the Black Forest, on Midsummer Day the village boys used to collect faggots and straw on some steep and conspicuous height, and they spent some time in making circular wooden discs by slicing the trunk of a pine-tree across. When darkness had fallen, they kindled the bonfire, and then, as it blazed up, they lighted the discs at it, and, after swinging them to and fro at the end of a stout and supple hazel-wand, they hurled them one after the other, whizzing and flaming, into the air, where they described [pg 169] great arcs of fire, to fall at length, like shooting-stars, at the foot of the mountain.411 In many parts of Alsace and Lorraine the midsummer fires still blaze annually or did so not very many years ago.412 At Speicher in the Eifel, a district which lies on the middle Rhine, to the west of Coblentz, a bonfire used to be kindled in front of the village on St. John's Day, and all the young people had to jump over it. Those who failed to do so were not allowed to join the rest in begging for eggs from house to house. Where no eggs were given, they drove a wedge into the keyhole of the door. On this day children in the Eifel used also to gather flowers in the fields, weave them into garlands, and throw the garlands on the roofs or hang them on the doors of the houses. So long as the flowers remained there, they were supposed to guard the house from fire and lightning.413 In the southern Harz district and in Thuringia the Midsummer or St. John's fires used to be commonly lighted down to about the middle of the nineteenth century, and the custom has probably not died out. At Edersleben, near Sangerhausen, a high pole was planted in the ground and a tar-barrel was hung from it by a chain which reached to the ground. The barrel was then set on fire and swung round the pole amid shouts of joy.414

In Baden, the children used to collect firewood from house to house for the Midsummer bonfire on St. John's Day; and boys and girls leaped over the fire in pairs. Here, [pg 168] as in other places, a strong connection was made between these bonfires and the harvest. In some areas, it was believed that those who jumped over the fires would not have back pain when it came time to reap. Sometimes, as the young people leaped over the flames, they shouted, "Grow, so the hemp can be three yards tall!" This idea that the hemp or grain would grow as high as the flames burned or as high as the people jumped seemed to be widespread in Baden. It was believed that the parents of the young people who jumped the highest over the fire would have the most plentiful harvest; conversely, if a man contributed nothing to the bonfire, it was thought that his crops would lack blessings, especially his hemp. 409 In the area around Bühl and Achern, the St. John's fires were lit on hilltops; only the unmarried young men of the village gathered the fuel, and only the unmarried young men and women jumped through the flames. However, most villagers, both young and old, gathered around the bonfires, leaving a clear space for the jumpers to take their run. One of the onlookers would call out the names of a couple, prompting them to step out from the crowd, take each other's hands, and leap high and lightly through the swirling smoke and flames, while the spectators watched closely and made predictions about their future marriage based on how high they jumped. Such an invitation to jump together over the bonfire was seen as a public betrothal. 410 Near Offenburg, in the Black Forest, on Midsummer Day, village boys used to gather sticks and straw on a steep and visible hill, and they spent time making circular wooden discs by cutting the trunk of a pine tree. When darkness fell, they lit the bonfire, and as it flared up, they ignited the discs and swung them back and forth at the end of a sturdy, flexible hazel wand, throwing them one by one into the air, where they created [pg 169] great arcs of fire, falling like shooting stars at the base of the mountain. 411 In many parts of Alsace and Lorraine, the midsummer fires still blaze every year or did so not too many years ago. 412 In Speicher in the Eifel, a region on the middle Rhine, west of Coblentz, a bonfire used to be lit in front of the village on St. John's Day, and all the young people had to jump over it. Those who didn’t manage to jump were not allowed to participate in begging for eggs from house to house. Where no eggs were given, they would wedge something into the keyhole of the door. On this day, kids in the Eifel also used to collect flowers from the fields, weave them into garlands, and throw the garlands onto roofs or hang them on the doors of houses. As long as the flowers stayed there, they were thought to protect the house from fire and lightning. 413 In the southern Harz region and in Thuringia, Midsummer or St. John's fires were commonly lit until about the mid-nineteenth century, and the tradition might not have completely disappeared. At Edersleben, near Sangerhausen, a tall pole was set in the ground, and a tar-barrel was hung from it by a chain that reached down to the ground. The barrel was then set on fire and swung around the pole amid cheers of joy. 414

Midsummer fires lit by the friction of wood in Germany and Switzerland. Driving away demons and witches.

According to one account, German tradition required that the midsummer fire should be lighted, not from a common hearth, but by the friction of two sorts of wood, namely oak and fir.415 In some old farm-houses of the Surenthal and Winenthal, in Switzerland, a couple of holes or a whole row of them may be seen facing each other in the door-posts of the barn or stable. Sometimes the holes are smooth and [pg 170] round; sometimes they are deeply burnt and blackened. The explanation of them is this. About midsummer, but especially on Midsummer Day, two such holes are bored opposite each other, into which the extremities of a strong pole are fixed. The holes are then stuffed with tow steeped in resin and oil; a rope is looped round the pole, and two young men, who must be brothers or must have the same baptismal name, and must be of the same age, pull the ends of the rope backwards and forwards so as to make the pole revolve rapidly, till smoke and sparks issue from the two holes in the door-posts. The sparks are caught and blown up with tinder, and this is the new and pure fire, the appearance of which is greeted with cries of joy. Heaps of combustible materials are now ignited with the new fire, and blazing bundles are placed on boards and sent floating down the brook. The boys light torches at the new fire and run to fumigate the pastures. This is believed to drive away all the demons and witches that molest the cattle. Finally the torches are thrown in a heap on the meadow and allowed to burn out. On their way back the boys strew the ashes over the fields, which is supposed to make them fertile. If a farmer has taken possession of a new house, or if servants have changed masters, the boys fumigate the new abode and are rewarded by the farmer with a supper.416

According to one account, German tradition requires that the midsummer fire should be lit, not from a common hearth, but by rubbing together two types of wood: oak and fir. In some old farmhouses in the Surenthal and Winenthal regions of Switzerland, you can see a couple of holes or even a whole row of them facing each other in the doorposts of barns or stables. Sometimes the holes are smooth and round; other times, they are deeply burnt and blackened. Here’s how it works: Around midsummer, especially on Midsummer Day, two such holes are drilled opposite each other, into which the ends of a strong pole are fixed. The holes are then packed with tow soaked in resin and oil; a rope is looped around the pole, and two young men, who must be brothers or share the same first name and be of the same age, pull the ends of the rope back and forth to make the pole spin quickly, until smoke and sparks come out of the two holes in the doorposts. The sparks are caught and fanned into flames with tinder, creating the new and pure fire, which is celebrated with cheers. Piles of combustible materials are then ignited with this new fire, and burning bundles are placed on boards and sent floating down the stream. The boys light torches from the new fire and run to bless the pastures. This is believed to drive away any demons and witches that bother the cattle. Finally, the torches are piled on the meadow and allowed to burn out. On their way back, the boys scatter the ashes over the fields, which is thought to make them fertile. If a farmer has moved into a new house or if servants have changed employers, the boys will bless the new home and are rewarded with dinner from the farmer.

Midsummer bonfires in Silesia. Driving away the witches.

In Silesia, from the south-eastern part of the Sudeten range and north-westward as far as Lausitz, the mountains are ablaze with bonfires on Midsummer Eve; and from the valleys and the plains round about Leobschütz, Neustadt, Zülz, Oels, and other places answering fires twinkle through the deepening gloom. While they are smouldering and sending forth volumes of smoke across the fields, young men kindle broom-stumps, soaked in pitch, at the bonfires and then, brandishing the stumps, which emit showers of sparks, they chase one another or dance with the girls round the burning pile. Shots, too, are fired, and shouts raised. The fire, the smoke, the shots, and the shouts are all intended to scare away the witches, who are let loose on this witching day, and who would certainly work harm to the crops and the cattle, if they were not deterred by these salutary measures. [pg 171] Mere contact with the fire brings all sorts of blessings. Hence when the bonfire is burning low, the lads leap over it, and the higher they bound, the better is the luck in store for them. He who surpasses his fellows is the hero of the day and is much admired by the village girls. It is also thought to be very good for the eyes to stare steadily at the bonfire without blinking; moreover he who does so will not drowse and fall asleep betimes in the long winter evenings. On Midsummer Eve the windows and doors of houses in Silesia are crowned with flowers, especially with the blue corn-flowers and the bright corn-cockles; in some villages long strings of garlands and nosegays are stretched across the streets. The people believe that on that night St. John comes down from heaven to bless the flowers and to keep all evil things from house and home.417

In Silesia, from the southeastern part of the Sudeten range and northwest as far as Lausitz, the mountains are lit up with bonfires on Midsummer Eve; and from the valleys and plains around Leobschütz, Neustadt, Zülz, Oels, and other areas, responding fires sparkle in the gathering darkness. While they burn and send up clouds of smoke across the fields, young men light broom-stumps soaked in pitch at the bonfires and, waving the stumps that throw off showers of sparks, they chase each other or dance with the girls around the burning pile. Shots are fired, and shouts ring out. The fire, the smoke, the gunfire, and the cheers are all meant to scare away the witches who are unleashed on this witching day, as they would surely harm the crops and livestock if these protective measures weren't taken. [pg 171] Just being near the fire brings all sorts of blessings. So when the bonfire burns down, the young men jump over it, and the higher they leap, the better their luck will be. The one who jumps the highest becomes the hero of the day and earns admiration from the village girls. It's also thought to be very good for the eyes to stare steadily at the bonfire without blinking; besides, whoever does that won’t feel sleepy during the long winter evenings. On Midsummer Eve, the windows and doors of homes in Silesia are decorated with flowers, especially blue cornflowers and bright corn-cockles; in some villages, long strings of garlands and nosegays are hung across the streets. People believe that on that night, St. John comes down from heaven to bless the flowers and keep all evil away from homes.

The Midsummer fires in Denmark and Norway are meant to ward off witches. The Midsummer fires in Sweden.

In Denmark and Norway also Midsummer fires were kindled on St. John's Eve on roads, open spaces, and hills. People in Norway thought that the fires banished sickness from among the cattle.418 Even yet the fires are said to be lighted all over Norway on the night of June the twenty-third, Midsummer Eve, Old Style. As many as fifty or sixty bonfires may often be counted burning on the hills round Bergen. Sometimes fuel is piled on rafts, ignited, and allowed to drift blazing across the fiords in the darkness of night. The fires are thought to be kindled in order to keep off the witches, who are said to be flying from all parts that night to the Blocksberg, where the big witch lives.419 [pg 172] In Sweden the Eve of St. John (St. Hans) is the most joyous night of the whole year. Throughout some parts of the country, especially in the provinces of Bohus and Scania and in districts bordering on Norway, it is celebrated by the frequent discharge of firearms and by huge bonfires, formerly called Balder's Balefires (Balder's Bălar), which are kindled at dusk on hills and eminences and throw a glare of light over the surrounding landscape. The people dance round the fires and leap over or through them. In parts of Norrland on St. John's Eve the bonfires are lit at the cross-roads. The fuel consists of nine different sorts of wood, and the spectators cast into the flames a kind of toad-stool (Bäran) in order to counteract the power of the Trolls and other evil spirits, who are believed to be abroad that night; for at that mystic season the mountains open and from their cavernous depths the uncanny crew pours forth to dance and disport themselves for a time. The peasants believe that should any of the Trolls be in the vicinity they will shew themselves; and if an animal, for example a he or she goat, happens to be seen near the blazing, crackling pile, the peasants are firmly persuaded that it is no other than the Evil One in person.420 Further, it deserves to be remarked that in Sweden St. John's Eve is a festival of water as well as of fire; for certain holy springs are then supposed to be endowed with wonderful medicinal virtues, and many sick people resort to them for the healing of their infirmities.421

In Denmark and Norway, Midsummer fires were lit on St. John's Eve along roads, in open areas, and on hills. People in Norway believed these fires drove away illness from the cattle. Even today, it's said that the fires are lit all over Norway on the night of June 23rd, Midsummer Eve, according to the old calendar. Often, fifty or sixty bonfires can be seen burning on the hills around Bergen. Sometimes, fuel is piled on rafts, set on fire, and allowed to drift, blazing across the fjords in the darkness of night. The fires are thought to be ignited to ward off witches, who are believed to fly from all parts that night to Blocksberg, where the great witch resides. [pg 172] In Sweden, St. John's Eve (St. Hans) is the happiest night of the year. In some regions, especially in Bohus and Scania and areas near Norway, it’s celebrated with frequent gunfire and large bonfires, formerly known as Balder's Balefires (Balder's Bălar), which are lit at dusk on hills and ridges, casting a bright light over the landscape. People dance around the fires and jump over or through them. In parts of Norrland on St. John's Eve, the bonfires are set up at crossroads. The fuel consists of nine different types of wood, and spectators throw a type of toadstool (Bears) into the flames to counteract the power of the Trolls and other evil spirits, who are believed to be roaming that night; at that mystical time, the mountains open up and from their deep caves, the eerie creatures come out to dance and enjoy themselves for a while. The villagers believe that if any Trolls are nearby, they will reveal themselves; if an animal, like a male or female goat, is spotted near the crackling fire, the villagers are convinced it’s none other than the Evil One in disguise. Additionally, it's worth noting that in Sweden, St. John's Eve is a festival of water as well as fire; certain holy springs are believed to possess remarkable healing powers, and many sick people go to them seeking relief from their ailments.

The Midsummer fires in Switzerland and Austria involve burning effigies. Burning wheels are rolled down hills.

In Switzerland on Midsummer Eve fires are, or used to be, kindled on high places in the cantons of Bern, Neuchatel, Valais, and Geneva.422 In Austria the midsummer customs and superstitions resemble those of Germany. Thus in some parts of the Tyrol bonfires are kindled and burning discs hurled into the air.423 In the lower valley of the Inn a taterdemalian effigy is carted about the village on Midsummer [pg 173] Day and then burned. He is called the Lotter, which has been corrupted into Luther. At Ambras, one of the villages where Martin Luther is thus burned in effigy, they say that if you go through the village between eleven and twelve on St. John's Night and wash yourself in three wells, you will see all who are to die in the following year.424 At Gratz on St. John's Eve (the twenty-third of June) the common people used to make a puppet called the Tatermann, which they dragged to the bleaching ground, and pelted with burning besoms till it took fire.425 At Reutte, in the Tyrol, people believed that the flax would grow as high as they leaped over the midsummer bonfire, and they took pieces of charred wood from the fire and stuck them in their flax-fields the same night, leaving them there till the flax harvest had been got in.426 In Lower Austria fires are lit in the fields, commonly in front of a cross, and the people dance and sing round them and throw flowers into the flames. Before each handful of flowers is tossed into the fire, a set speech is made; then the dance is resumed and the dancers sing in chorus the last words of the speech. At evening bonfires are kindled on the heights, and the boys caper round them, brandishing lighted torches drenched in pitch. Whoever jumps thrice across the fire will not suffer from fever within the year. Cart-wheels are often smeared with pitch, ignited, and sent rolling and blazing down the hillsides.427

In Switzerland, on Midsummer Eve, bonfires are, or used to be, lit on high places in the cantons of Bern, Neuchatel, Valais, and Geneva.422 In Austria, the midsummer customs and superstitions are similar to those in Germany. For example, in some areas of Tyrol, bonfires are lit and burning discs are thrown into the air.423 In the lower valley of the Inn, a makeshift effigy is paraded around the village on Midsummer Day and then burned. This figure is called the Lottery, which has been changed into Luther. In Ambras, one of the villages where Martin Luther is burned in effigy, people believe that if you walk through the village between eleven and twelve on St. John's Night and wash yourself in three wells, you will see all the people who are going to die in the coming year.424 In Gratz, on St. John's Eve (the twenty-third of June), locals used to make a puppet called the Tatermann, which they dragged to the bleaching ground and pelted with burning brooms until it caught fire.425 In Reutte, Tyrol, people believed that the flax would grow as high as they jumped over the midsummer bonfire, and they would take pieces of charred wood from the fire and stick them in their flax fields the same night, leaving them there until they harvested the flax.426 In Lower Austria, fires are lit in the fields, usually in front of a cross, and people dance and sing around them, throwing flowers into the flames. Before each handful of flowers is tossed in, a set speech is made; then the dancing resumes, and the dancers sing the last words of the speech as a chorus. In the evening, bonfires are lit on the hills, and boys dance around them, waving burning torches dipped in pitch. Anyone who jumps over the fire three times will not suffer from fever in the year ahead. Cart-wheels are often coated in pitch, set on fire, and rolled blazing down the hillsides.427

Midsummer fires in Bohemia. Wreaths tossed over the fire. Uses for the burned wreaths. Burning wheels rolled down hills. Embers from the fire left in fields, gardens, and homes as a charm against lightning and fires. Use of mugwort. Cattle safeguarded against witchcraft.

All over Bohemia bonfires still burn on Midsummer Eve. In the afternoon boys go about with handcarts from house to house collecting fuel, such as sticks, brushwood, old besoms, and so forth. They make their request at each house in rhyming verses, threatening with evil consequences the curmudgeons who refuse them a dole. Sometimes the young men fell a tall straight fir in the woods and set it up on a height, where the girls deck it with nosegays, wreaths of leaves, and red ribbons. Then brushwood is piled about it, and at nightfall the whole is set on fire. While the flames break out, the young men climb [pg 174] the tree and fetch down the wreaths which the girls had placed on it. After that, lads and lasses stand on opposite sides of the fire and look at one another through the wreaths to see whether they will be true to each other and marry within the year. Also the girls throw the wreaths across the flames to the men, and woe to the awkward swain who fails to catch the wreath thrown him by his sweetheart. When the blaze has died down, each couple takes hands, and leaps thrice across the fire. He or she who does so will be free from ague throughout the year, and the flax will grow as high as the young folks leap. A girl who sees nine bonfires on Midsummer Eve will marry before the year is out. The singed wreaths are carried home and carefully preserved throughout the year. During thunderstorms a bit of the wreath is burned on the hearth with a prayer; some of it is given to kine that are sick or calving, and some of it serves to fumigate house and cattle-stall, that man and beast may keep hale and well. Sometimes an old cart-wheel is smeared with resin, ignited, and sent rolling down the hill. Often the boys collect all the worn-out besoms they can get hold of, dip them in pitch, and having set them on fire wave them about or throw them high into the air. Or they rush down the hillside in troops, brandishing the flaming brooms and shouting, only however to return to the bonfire on the summit when the brooms have burnt out. The stumps of the brooms and embers from the fire are preserved and stuck in cabbage gardens to protect the cabbages from caterpillars and gnats. Some people insert charred sticks and ashes from the bonfire in their sown fields and meadows, in their gardens and the roofs of their houses, as a talisman against lightning and foul weather; or they fancy that the ashes placed in the roof will prevent any fire from breaking out in the house. In some districts they crown or gird themselves with mugwort while the midsummer fire is burning, for this is supposed to be a protection against ghosts, witches, and sickness; in particular, a wreath of mugwort is a sure preventive of sore eyes. Sometimes the girls look at the bonfires through garlands of wild flowers, praying the fire to strengthen their eyes and eyelids. She who does this thrice will have no sore eyes [pg 175] all that year. In some parts of Bohemia they used to drive the cows through the midsummer fire to guard them against witchcraft.428

All over Bohemia, bonfires still burn on Midsummer Eve. In the afternoon, boys go around with handcarts from house to house collecting fuel, like sticks, brushwood, old brooms, and so on. They make their requests at each house in rhyming verses, threatening bad luck for those who refuse to give them anything. Sometimes, young men chop down a tall, straight fir tree in the woods and set it up on a hill, where the girls decorate it with bouquets, leafy wreaths, and red ribbons. Then they pile brushwood around it, and at nightfall, everything is set on fire. As the flames blaze, the young men climb the tree to take down the wreaths that the girls had placed on it. After that, boys and girls stand on opposite sides of the fire and look at each other through the wreaths to see if they will remain faithful and marry within the year. The girls also toss the wreaths across the flames to the guys, and woe to the awkward lad who fails to catch the wreath thrown to him by his sweetheart. When the fire has died down, each couple holds hands and jumps three times over the fire. Whoever does this will be free from fever for the whole year, and the flax will grow as high as the young people leap. A girl who sees nine bonfires on Midsummer Eve will marry before the year ends. The singed wreaths are taken home and carefully kept throughout the year. During thunderstorms, a piece of the wreath is burned on the hearth with a prayer; some of it is given to sick or calving cows, and some is used to fumigate the home and barn so that both humans and animals stay healthy. Sometimes, an old cartwheel is coated with resin, set on fire, and sent rolling down the hill. Often, the boys gather as many old brooms as they can find, dip them in pitch, light them on fire, and wave them around or toss them into the air. They may rush down the hillside together, brandishing the flaming brooms and shouting, only to return to the bonfire at the top when the brooms are burnt out. The stubs of the brooms and the embers from the fire are kept and stuck in cabbage gardens to protect the cabbages from caterpillars and gnats. Some people put charred sticks and ashes from the bonfire in their fields, meadows, gardens, and on the roofs of their houses as a charm against lightning and bad weather; or they believe that ashes placed on the roof will prevent any fire from breaking out in the house. In some areas, they wear or crown themselves with mugwort while the midsummer fire burns, as it is thought to protect against ghosts, witches, and illness; especially, a mugwort wreath is believed to prevent sore eyes. Sometimes the girls look at the bonfires through wildflower garlands, asking the fire to strengthen their eyes and eyelids. She who does this three times will have no sore eyes all year. In some parts of Bohemia, they used to drive cows through the midsummer fire to protect them from witchcraft.

The Midsummer fires in Moravia, Austrian Silesia, and the Cracow region are lit by the friction of wood.

The Germans of Moravia in like manner still light bonfires on open grounds and high places on Midsummer Eve; and they kindle besoms in the flames and then stick the charred stumps in the cabbage-fields as a powerful protection against caterpillars. On the same mystic evening Moravian girls gather flowers of nine sorts and lay them under their pillow when they go to sleep; then they dream every one of him who is to be her partner for life. For in Moravia maidens in their beds as well as poets by haunted streams have their Midsummer Night's dreams.429 In Austrian Silesia the custom also prevails of lighting great bonfires on hilltops on Midsummer Eve, and here too the boys swing blazing besoms or hurl them high in the air, while they shout and leap and dance wildly. Next morning every door is decked with flowers and birchen saplings.430 In the district of Cracow, especially towards the Carpathian Mountains, great fires are kindled by the peasants in the fields or on the heights at nightfall on Midsummer Eve, which among them goes by the name of Kupalo's Night. The fire must be kindled by the friction of two sticks. The young people dance round or leap over it; and a band of sturdy fellows run a race with lighted torches, the winner being rewarded with a peacock's feather, which he keeps throughout the year as a distinction. Cattle also are driven round the fire in the belief that this is a charm against pestilence and disease of every sort.431

The Germans in Moravia also still light bonfires in open fields and on high places on Midsummer Eve. They toss broomsticks into the flames and then stick the charred ends into the cabbage fields as a strong defense against caterpillars. On the same mystical evening, Moravian girls gather nine kinds of flowers and place them under their pillows when they go to sleep; they will dream of the person who is meant to be their life partner. Because in Moravia, maidens in their beds, just like poets by enchanting streams, have their Midsummer Night's dreams.429 In Austrian Silesia, the tradition of lighting large bonfires on hilltops on Midsummer Eve also continues, and here too, boys swing flaming broomsticks or throw them high in the air while they shout, leap, and dance energetically. The next morning, every door is adorned with flowers and birch saplings.430 In the Cracow district, especially near the Carpathian Mountains, peasants light big fires in the fields or on hillsides at dusk on Midsummer Eve, known among them as Kupalo's Night. The fire has to be started by rubbing two sticks together. Young people dance around or jump over the fire, and a group of strong guys race with lit torches, with the winner receiving a peacock feather as a prize, which he keeps for the whole year as a mark of honor. Cattle are also led around the fire, believed to be a charm against sickness and disease of all kinds.431

[pg 176]

The Midsummer fires among the Slavs of Russia. Cattle safeguarded against witchcraft. The fires lit by rubbing wood together.

The name of Kupalo's Night, applied in this part of Galicia to Midsummer Eve, reminds us that we have now passed from German to Slavonic ground; even in Bohemia the midsummer celebration is common to Slavs and Germans. We have already seen that in Russia the summer solstice or Eve of St. John is celebrated by young men and maidens, who jump over a bonfire in couples carrying a straw effigy of Kupalo in their arms.432 In some parts of Russia an image of Kupalo is burnt or thrown into a stream on St. John's Night.433 Again, in some districts of Russia the young folk wear garlands of flowers and girdles of holy herbs when they spring through the smoke or flames; and sometimes they drive the cattle also through the fire in order to protect the animals against wizards and witches, who are then ravenous after milk.434 In Little Russia a stake is driven into the ground on St. John's Night, wrapt in straw, and set on fire. As the flames rise the peasant women throw birchen boughs into them, saying, “May my flax be as tall as this bough!”435 In Ruthenia the bonfires are lighted by a flame procured by the friction of wood. While the elders of the party are engaged in thus “churning” the fire, the rest maintain a respectful silence; but when the flame bursts from the wood, they break forth into joyous songs. As soon as the bonfires are kindled, the young people take hands and leap in pairs through the smoke, if not through the flames; and after that the cattle in their turn are driven through the fire.436

The name Kupalo's Night, used in this part of Galicia for Midsummer Eve, reminds us that we've now moved from German to Slavic territory; even in Bohemia, the midsummer celebration is shared by Slavs and Germans. We’ve already seen that in Russia, the summer solstice or Eve of St. John is celebrated by young men and women, who jump over a bonfire together while carrying a straw effigy of Kupalo in their arms.432 In some areas of Russia, an image of Kupalo is burned or thrown into a stream on St. John's Night.433 Additionally, in some regions of Russia, young people wear flower crowns and belts made of sacred herbs when they leap through the smoke or flames; sometimes they also drive cattle through the fire to protect the animals from wizards and witches, who are thirsting for milk.434 In Little Russia, a stake is driven into the ground on St. John's Night, wrapped in straw, and set on fire. As the flames rise, peasant women throw birch branches into them, saying, “May my flax grow as tall as this branch!”435 In Ruthenia, bonfires are lit from a flame created by rubbing wood together. While the older members of the group are busy "churning" the fire, the others remain respectfully silent; but when the flames burst out, they joyfully sing. Once the bonfires are lit, young people join hands and leap in pairs through the smoke, if not through the flames; after that, the cattle are also driven through the fire.436

The Midsummer fires in Prussia and Lithuania were believed to protect against witchcraft, thunder, hail, and cattle disease. The fire was started by rubbing wood together.

In many parts of Prussia and Lithuania great fires are kindled on Midsummer Eve. All the heights are ablaze with them, as far as the eye can see. The fires are supposed to be a protection against witchcraft, thunder, hail, and cattle disease, especially if next morning the cattle are driven over the places where the fires burned. Above all, the bonfires ensure the farmer against the arts of witches, who try to steal the milk from his cows by charms and [pg 177] spells. That is why next morning you may see the young fellows who lit the bonfire going from house to house and receiving jugfuls of milk. And for the same reason they stick burs and mugwort on the gate or the hedge through which the cows go to pasture, because that is supposed to be a preservative against witchcraft.437 In Masuren, a district of Eastern Prussia inhabited by a branch of the Polish family, it is the custom on the evening of Midsummer Day to put out all the fires in the village. Then an oaken stake is driven into the ground and a wheel is fixed on it as on an axle. This wheel the villagers, working by relays, cause to revolve with great rapidity till fire is produced by friction. Every one takes home a lighted brand from the new fire and with it rekindles the fire on the domestic hearth.438 In the sixteenth century Martin of Urzedow, a Polish priest, denounced the heathen practices of the women who on St. John's Eve (Midsummer Eve) kindled fires by the friction of wood, danced, and sang songs in honour of the devil.439

In many areas of Prussia and Lithuania, large bonfires are lit on Midsummer Eve. The fires illuminate the hills as far as the eye can see. They are believed to protect against witchcraft, thunder, hail, and livestock diseases, especially if the next morning the cattle are driven over the spots where the fires burned. Most importantly, the bonfires safeguard farmers from witches who try to steal milk from their cows using charms and spells. That’s why the young men who lit the bonfire can be seen going from house to house the next morning, collecting jugfuls of milk. For the same reason, they place burs and mugwort on the gate or hedge through which the cows pass to pasture, as it's thought to protect against witchcraft. In Masuren, a region of Eastern Prussia with a Polish community, it's customary on Midsummer Day evening to extinguish all the village fires. Then, an oak stake is driven into the ground, and a wheel is mounted on it like an axle. The villagers take turns making the wheel spin quickly until it creates fire through friction. Everyone takes home a lit brand from this new fire to rekindle their household fire. In the sixteenth century, Martin of Urzedow, a Polish priest, condemned the pagan practices of women who, on St. John's Eve (Midsummer Eve), created fires by rubbing wood together, danced, and sang songs in honor of the devil.

The Midsummer fires among the Letts of Russia. Midsummer Day in ancient Rome.

Among the Letts who inhabit the Baltic provinces of Russia the most joyful festival of the year is held on Midsummer Day. The people drink and dance and sing and adorn themselves and their houses with flowers and branches. Chopped boughs of fir are strewn about the rooms, and leaves are stuck in the roofs. In every farm-yard a birch tree is set up, and every person of the name of John who enters the farm that day must break off a twig from the tree and hang up on its branches in return a small present for the family. When the serene twilight of the summer night has veiled the landscape, bonfires gleam on all the hills, and wild shouts of “Ligho! Ligho!” echo from the woods and fields. In Riga the day is a festival of flowers. From all the neighbourhood the peasants stream into the city laden with flowers and garlands. A market of flowers is held in an open square and on the chief bridge over the river; here wreaths of immortelles, which grow wild in the meadows and woods, are sold in great profusion and deck the houses [pg 178] of Riga for long afterwards. Roses, too, are now at the prime of their beauty, and masses of them adorn the flower-stalls. Till far into the night gay crowds parade the streets to music or float on the river in gondolas decked with flowers.440 So long ago in ancient Rome barges crowned with flowers and crowded with revellers used to float down the Tiber on Midsummer Day, the twenty-fourth of June,441 and no doubt the strains of music were wafted as sweetly across the water to listeners on the banks as they still are to the throngs of merrymakers at Riga.

Among the Letts who live in the Baltic provinces of Russia, the biggest celebration of the year happens on Midsummer Day. The people drink, dance, sing, and decorate themselves and their homes with flowers and branches. Chopped fir branches are spread throughout the rooms, and leaves are placed in the roofs. In every farmyard, a birch tree is set up, and anyone named John who enters the farm that day must break off a twig from the tree and hang a small gift on its branches in return for the family. When the calm twilight of the summer night has covered the landscape, bonfires light up all the hills, and joyful shouts of “Ligho! Ligho!” echo through the woods and fields. In Riga, the day is a flower festival. Peasants from the surrounding area flock into the city carrying flowers and garlands. A flower market takes place in an open square and on the main bridge over the river; here, wreaths of immortelles, which grow wild in the meadows and woods, are sold in abundance and decorate the houses of Riga for a long time afterward. Roses are also at the height of their beauty, with many of them brightening up the flower stalls. Until late into the night, cheerful crowds stroll the streets to music or drift on the river in gondolas adorned with flowers.440 Long ago in ancient Rome, boats decorated with flowers and filled with partygoers used to glide down the Tiber on Midsummer Day, the twenty-fourth of June,441 and surely the sounds of music floated as sweetly across the water to listeners on the banks as they still do to the crowds of revelers in Riga.

The Midsummer fires among the South Slavs.

Bonfires are commonly kindled by the South Slavonian peasantry on Midsummer Eve, and lads and lasses dance and shout round them in the usual way. The very names of St. John's Day (Ivanje) and the St. John's fires (kries) are said to act like electric sparks on the hearts and minds of these swains, kindling a thousand wild, merry, and happy fancies and ideas in their rustic breasts. At Kamenagora in Croatia the herdsmen throw nine three-year old vines into the bonfire, and when these burst into flames the young men who are candidates for matrimony jump through the blaze. He who succeeds in leaping over the fire without singeing himself will be married within the year. At Vidovec in Croatia parties of two girls and one lad unite to kindle a Midsummer bonfire and to leap through the flames; he or she who leaps furthest will soonest wed. Afterwards lads and lasses dance in separate rings, but the ring of lads bumps up against the ring of girls and breaks it, and the girl who has to let go her neighbour's hand will forsake her true love hereafter.442 In Servia on Midsummer Eve herdsmen light torches of birch bark and march round the sheepfolds and cattle-stalls; then they climb the hills and there allow the torches to burn out.443

Bonfires are commonly lit by the South Slavonian farmers on Midsummer Eve, and young men and women dance and cheer around them as is traditional. The names of St. John's Day (Ivanje) and the St. John's fires (kries) are said to spark excitement in the hearts and minds of these young people, igniting a thousand wild, joyful, and happy thoughts in their rural hearts. At Kamenagora in Croatia, shepherds throw nine three-year-old vines into the bonfire, and when they catch fire, young men hoping to marry jump through the flames. Those who make it over the fire without getting burned will get married within the year. At Vidovec in Croatia, groups of two girls and one boy come together to light a Midsummer bonfire and jump through the flames; whoever leaps the furthest will be the first to marry. Afterwards, boys and girls dance in separate circles, but the boys' circle bumps into the girls' circle and breaks it, and the girl who has to let go of her neighbor’s hand will lose her true love from that point on.442 In Serbia on Midsummer Eve, shepherds light birch bark torches and walk around the sheepfolds and cattle pens; then they climb the hills and let the torches burn out.443

The Midsummer fires among the Magyars of Hungary.

Among the Magyars in Hungary the midsummer fire-festival is marked by the same features that meet us in so many parts of Europe. On Midsummer Eve in many [pg 179] places it is customary to kindle bonfires on heights and to leap over them, and from the manner in which the young people leap the bystanders predict whether they will marry soon. At Nograd-Ludany the young men and women, each carrying a truss of straw, repair to a meadow, where they pile the straw in seven or twelve heaps and set it on fire. Then they go round the fire singing, and hold a bunch of iron-wort in the smoke, while they say, “No boil on my body, no sprain in my foot!” This holding of the flowers over the flames is regarded, we are told, as equally important with the practice of walking through the fire barefoot and stamping it out. On this day also many Hungarian swineherds make fire by rotating a wheel round a wooden axle wrapt in hemp, and through the fire thus made they drive their pigs to preserve them from sickness.444 In villages on the Danube, where the population is a cross between Magyar and German, the young men and maidens go to the high banks of the river on Midsummer Eve; and while the girls post themselves low down the slope, the lads on the height above set fire to little wooden wheels and, after swinging them to and fro at the end of a wand, send them whirling through the air to fall into the Danube. As he does so, each lad sings out the name of his sweetheart, and she listens well pleased down below.445

Among the Magyars in Hungary, the midsummer fire festival features the same traditions found in many parts of Europe. On Midsummer Eve, it’s common in many places to light bonfires on hilltops and jump over them, with bystanders predicting soon-to-be marriages based on how the young people leap. In Nograd-Ludany, young men and women, each carrying a bundle of straw, gather in a meadow, where they stack the straw into seven or twelve piles and set it on fire. They then walk around the fire singing and hold a bunch of iron-wort in the smoke while saying, “No boil on my body, no sprain in my foot!” This act of holding flowers over the flames is considered just as important as walking barefoot through the fire and putting it out. On this day, many Hungarian swineherds create fire by rotating a wheel around a wooden axle wrapped in hemp, and they drive their pigs through the fire they make to protect them from illness. In villages along the Danube, where the population blends Magyar and German cultures, young men and women go to the riverbanks on Midsummer Eve; as the girls position themselves lower down the slope, the boys above ignite small wooden wheels, swinging them on a stick before sending them flying through the air into the Danube. As they do this, each boy calls out the name of his sweetheart, who listens happily from below.

The Midsummer bonfires among the Estonians. The Midsummer bonfires in Oesel.

The Esthonians of Russia, who, like the Magyars, belong to the great Turanian family of mankind, also celebrate the summer solstice in the usual way. On the Eve of St. John all the people of a farm, a village, or an estate, walk solemnly in procession, the girls decked with flowers, the men with leaves and carrying bundles of straw under their arms. The lads carry lighted torches or flaming hoops steeped in tar at the top of long poles. Thus they go singing to the cattle-sheds, the granaries, and so forth, and afterwards march thrice round the dwelling-house. Finally, preceded by the shrill music of the bagpipes and shawms, they repair to a neighbouring hill, where the materials of a bonfire have [pg 180] been collected. Tar-barrels filled with combustibles are hung on poles, or the trunk of a felled tree has been set up with a great mass of juniper piled about it in the form of a pyramid. When a light has been set to the pile, old and young gather about it and pass the time merrily with song and music till break of day. Every one who comes brings fresh fuel for the fire, and they say, “Now we all gather together, where St. John's fire burns. He who comes not to St. John's fire will have his barley full of thistles, and his oats full of weeds.” Three logs are thrown into the fire with special ceremony; in throwing the first they say, “Gold of pleasure (a plant with yellow flowers) into the fire!” in throwing the second they say, “Weeds to the unploughed land!” but in throwing the third they cry, “Flax on my field!” The fire is said to keep the witches from the cattle.446 According to others, it ensures that for the whole year the milk shall be “as pure as silver and as the stars in the sky, and the butter as yellow as the sun and the fire and the gold.”447 In the Esthonian island of Oesel, while they throw fuel into the midsummer fire, they call out, “Weeds to the fire, flax to the field,” or they fling three billets into the flames, saying, “Flax grow long!” And they take charred sticks from the bonfire home with them and keep them to make the cattle thrive. In some parts of the island the bonfire is formed by piling brushwood and other combustibles round a tree, at the top of which a flag flies. Whoever succeeds in knocking down the flag with a pole before it begins to burn will have good luck. Formerly the festivities lasted till daybreak, and ended in scenes of debauchery which looked doubly hideous by the growing light of a summer morning.448

The Esthonians of Russia, who, like the Magyars, belong to the larger Turanian family of humanity, also celebrate the summer solstice in their traditional way. On St. John's Eve, everyone from a farm, village, or estate walks in a solemn procession, with girls adorned in flowers and men decorated with leaves, carrying bundles of straw under their arms. The young men carry lit torches or flaming hoops dipped in tar on long poles. They sing as they head toward the cattle sheds, granaries, and other places, then march around the house three times. Finally, led by the lively music of bagpipes and shawms, they go to a nearby hill where materials for a bonfire have been gathered. Tar barrels filled with flammable materials are hung on poles, or a felled tree trunk is set up with a large mound of juniper arranged like a pyramid. Once the pile is lit, people of all ages gather around to enjoy music and songs until dawn. Everyone who comes brings more fuel for the fire, and they say, “Now we all gather together, where St. John's fire burns. He who does not come to St. John's fire will have his barley full of thistles and his oats full of weeds.” Three logs are ceremoniously thrown into the fire; when throwing the first, they say, “Gold of pleasure (a plant with yellow flowers) into the fire!” When throwing the second, they say, “Weeds to the unplowed land!” and for the third, they shout, “Flax on my field!” The fire is said to keep witches away from the cattle. According to some, it ensures that throughout the year, the milk will be “as pure as silver and the stars in the sky, and the butter as yellow as the sun, the fire, and gold.” In the Esthonian island of Oesel, while adding fuel to the midsummer fire, they shout, “Weeds to the fire, flax to the field,” or they toss three logs into the flames, saying, “Flax grow long!” They take charred sticks from the bonfire home with them to help the cattle thrive. In some areas of the island, the bonfire is made by stacking brushwood and other combustible materials around a tree that has a flag flying at the top. Whoever manages to knock down the flag with a pole before it catches fire will have good luck. In the past, the festivities continued until dawn, often ending in scenes of debauchery that seemed even more grotesque in the growing light of a summer morning.

The Midsummer bonfires among the Finns and Cheremiss people in Russia.

Still farther north, among a people of the same Turanian [pg 181] stock, we learn from an eye-witness that Midsummer Night used to witness a sort of witches' sabbath on the top of every hill in Finland. The bonfire was made by setting up four tall birches in a square and piling the intermediate space with fuel. Round the roaring flames the people sang and drank and gambolled in the usual way.449 Farther east, in the valley of the Volga, the Cheremiss celebrate about midsummer a festival which Haxthausen regarded as identical with the midsummer ceremonies of the rest of Europe. A sacred tree in the forest, generally a tall and solitary oak, marks the scene of the solemnity. All the males assemble there, but no woman may be present. A heathen priest lights seven fires in a row from north-west to south-east; cattle are sacrificed and their blood poured in the fires, each of which is dedicated to a separate deity. Afterwards the holy tree is illumined by lighted candles placed on its branches; the people fall on their knees and with faces bowed to the earth pray that God would be pleased to bless them, their children, their cattle, and their bees, grant them success in trade, in travel, and in the chase, enable them to pay the Czar's taxes, and so forth.450

Further north, among a group of the same Turanian [pg 181] descent, an eyewitness reports that Midsummer Night used to celebrate a kind of witches' gathering on the top of every hill in Finland. The bonfire was created by erecting four tall birch trees in a square and filling the space inside with fuel. Around the crackling flames, people sang, drank, and danced as is traditional.449 Further east, in the Volga valley, the Cheremiss celebrate a festival around midsummer that Haxthausen considered to be similar to the midsummer festivities in the rest of Europe. A sacred tree in the forest, usually a tall and solitary oak, serves as the focal point of the event. All the men gather there, but no women are allowed. A heathen priest lights seven fires in a line from the northwest to the southeast; cattle are sacrificed, and their blood is poured into the fires, each one dedicated to a different deity. Afterward, the holy tree is lit up with candles placed on its branches; the people kneel down, bowing their heads to the ground, and pray for God's blessings on them, their children, their cattle, and their bees, asking for success in business, travel, and hunting, and for the ability to pay the Czar's taxes, among other requests.450

The Midsummer fires in France. Bossuet on the Midsummer celebration.

When we pass from the east to the west of Europe we still find the summer solstice celebrated with rites of the same general character. Down to about the middle of the nineteenth century the custom of lighting bonfires at midsummer prevailed so commonly in France that there was hardly a town or a village, we are told, where they were not kindled.451 Though the pagan origin of the custom may be regarded as certain, the Catholic Church threw a Christian cloak over it by boldly declaring that the bonfires were lit in token of the general rejoicing at the birth of the Baptist, who opportunely came into the world at the solstice of summer, just as his greater successor did at the solstice of winter; so that the whole year might be said to revolve on [pg 182] the golden hinges of these two great birthdays.452 Writing in the seventeenth century Bishop Bossuet expressly affirms this edifying theory of the Midsummer bonfires, and he tells his catechumens that the Church herself participated in the illumination, since in several dioceses, including his own diocese of Meaux, a number of parishes kindled what were called ecclesiastical fires for the purpose of banishing the superstitions practised at the purely mundane bonfires. These superstitions, he goes on to say, consisted in dancing round the fire, playing, feasting, singing ribald songs, throwing herbs across the fire, gathering herbs at noon or while fasting, carrying them on the person, preserving them throughout the year, keeping brands or cinders of the fire, and other similar practices.453 However excellent the intentions of the ecclesiastical authorities may have been, they failed of effecting their purpose; for the superstitions as well as the bonfires survived in France far into the nineteenth century, if indeed they are extinct even now at the beginning of the twentieth. Writing in the latter part of the nineteenth century Mr. Ch. Cuissard tells us that he himself witnessed in Touraine and Poitou the superstitious practices which he describes as follows: “The most credulous examine the ways in which the flame burns and draw good or bad omens accordingly. Others, after leaping through the flames crosswise, pass their little children through them thrice, fully persuaded that the little ones will then be able to walk at once. In some places the shepherds make their sheep tread the embers of the extinct fire in order to preserve them from the foot-rot. Here you may see about midnight an old woman grubbing among the cinders of the pyre to find the hair of the Holy Virgin or Saint [pg 183] John, which she deems an infallible specific against fever. There, another woman is busy plucking the roots of the herbs which have been burned on the surface of the ground; she intends to eat them, imagining that they are an infallible preservative against cancer. Elsewhere a girl wears on her neck a flower which the touch of St. John's fire has turned for her into a talisman, and she is sure to marry within the year. Shots are fired at the tree planted in the midst of the fire to drive away the demons who might purpose to send sicknesses about the country. Seats are set round about the bonfire, in order that the souls of dead relations may come and enjoy themselves for a little with the living.”454

When we travel from the east to the west of Europe, we still see the summer solstice celebrated with similar rituals. Up until about the mid-nineteenth century, the tradition of lighting bonfires at midsummer was so widespread in France that it's said there was hardly a town or village without them. Although the pagan roots of this custom are well-established, the Catholic Church gave it a Christian twist by claiming that the bonfires represented the joy over the birth of John the Baptist, who conveniently was born at the summer solstice, just as his greater successor was born at the winter solstice; thus, it could be said that the entire year revolves around the significant anniversaries of these two births. Writing in the seventeenth century, Bishop Bossuet explicitly supports this uplifting interpretation of the Midsummer bonfires, informing his catechumens that the Church itself took part in the illumination since several dioceses, including his own in Meaux, lit what were called ecclesiastical fires to rid the observance of the superstitions associated with the secular bonfires. He goes on to explain that these superstitions involved dancing around the fire, playing, feasting, singing lewd songs, throwing herbs over the fire, collecting herbs at noon or while fasting, keeping them close, and saving embers or ashes from the fire, among other similar practices. Despite the good intentions of the church authorities, they were unable to achieve their goal; the superstitions and bonfires persisted in France well into the nineteenth century, and perhaps even continue at the start of the twentieth century. In the late nineteenth century, Mr. Ch. Cuissard reports witnessing in Touraine and Poitou the superstitious traditions he describes as follows: “The most gullible examine the way the flames burn and interpret good or bad omens based on that. Others, after leaping through the flames crosswise, pass their little children through them three times, firmly believing this will enable the children to walk right away. In some areas, shepherds make their sheep walk over the ashes of the extinguished fire to protect them from foot-rot. At midnight, you might see an old woman rummaging through the ashes of the pyre looking for the hair of the Holy Virgin or St. John, which she believes is a sure remedy against fever. Meanwhile, another woman is busy pulling up the roots of the herbs burned on the ground, intending to eat them, convinced they are a guaranteed protection against cancer. Elsewhere, a girl wears a flower on her neck that St. John's fire has transformed into a talisman, and she is certain she'll marry within the year. Shots are fired at the tree planted in the middle of the fire to scare off demons that might send sicknesses into the area. Seats are arranged around the bonfire so the souls of deceased relatives can come and spend some time with the living.”

The Midsummer bonfires in Brittany. Ways to use the burnt sticks and flowers.

In Brittany, apparently, the custom of the Midsummer bonfires is kept up to this day. Thus in Lower Brittany every town and every village still lights its tantad or bonfire on St. John's Night. When the flames have died down, the whole assembly kneels round about the bonfire and an old man prays aloud. Then they all rise and march thrice round the fire; at the third turn they stop and every one picks up a pebble and throws it on the burning pile. After that they disperse.455 In Finistère the bonfires of St. John's Day are kindled by preference in an open space near a chapel of St. John; but if there is no such chapel, they are lighted in the square facing the parish church and in some districts at cross-roads. Everybody brings fuel for the fire, it may be a faggot, a log, a branch, or an armful of gorse. When the vespers are over, the parish priest sets a light to the pile. All heads are bared, prayers recited, and hymns sung. Then the dancing begins. The young folk skip round the blazing pile and leap over it, when the flames have died down. If anybody makes a false step and falls or rolls in the hot embers, he or she is greeted with hoots and retires abashed from the circle of dancers. Brands are carried home from the bonfire to protect the houses against lightning, conflagrations, and certain maladies and spells. The precious talisman is carefully kept in a cupboard till [pg 184] St. John's Day of the following year.456 At Quimper, and in the district of Léon, chairs used to be placed round the midsummer bonfire, that the souls of the dead might sit on them and warm themselves at the blaze.457 At Brest on this day thousands of people used to assemble on the ramparts towards evening and brandish lighted torches, which they swung in circles or flung by hundreds into the air. The closing of the town gates put an end to the spectacle, and the lights might be seen dispersing in all directions like wandering will-o'-the-wisps.458 In Upper Brittany the materials for the midsummer bonfires, which generally consist of bundles of furze and heath, are furnished by voluntary contributions, and piled on the tops of hills round poles, each of which is surmounted by a nosegay or a crown. This nosegay or crown is generally provided by a man named John or a woman named Jean, and it is always a John or a Jean who puts a light to the bonfire. While the fire is blazing the people dance and sing round it, and when the flames have subsided they leap over the glowing embers. Charred sticks from the bonfire are thrown into wells to improve the water, and they are also taken home as a protection against thunder.459 To make them thoroughly effective, however, against thunder and lightning you should keep them near your bed, between a bit of a Twelfth Night cake and a sprig of boxwood which has been blessed on Palm Sunday.460 Flowers from the nosegay or crown which overhung the fire are accounted charms against disease and pain, both bodily and spiritual; hence girls hang them at their breast by a thread of scarlet wool. In many parishes of Brittany the priest used to go in procession with the crucifix and kindle the bonfire with his own hands; [pg 185] and farmers were wont to drive their flocks and herds through the fire in order to preserve them from sickness till midsummer of the following year. Also it was believed that every girl who danced round nine of the bonfires would marry within the year.461

In Brittany, the tradition of Midsummer bonfires continues to this day. In Lower Brittany, every town and village still lights its tantad or bonfire on St. John's Night. Once the flames have died down, everyone gathers around the bonfire and an older man prays aloud. After that, they all stand up and walk around the fire three times; on the third lap, they stop, grab a pebble, and throw it onto the burning pile. Afterward, they scatter. In Finistère, the St. John's Day bonfires are typically set up in an open space near a chapel dedicated to St. John; if there's no chapel, they are lit in the square in front of the parish church or at crossroads in some areas. Everyone brings something to fuel the fire, whether it's a bundle of sticks, a log, a branch, or an armful of gorse. When vespers conclude, the parish priest lights the pile. Everyone removes their hats, says prayers, and sings hymns. Then the dancing starts. The young people skip around the fire and jump over it once the flames have calmed down. If someone trips and falls into the hot embers, they are met with jeers and retreat embarrassed from the dancing circle. People take burning embers home from the bonfire to protect their houses from lightning, fires, and certain illnesses and curses. This valuable charm is carefully stored in a cupboard until [pg 184] St. John's Day the next year. In Quimper and the Léon region, chairs were once placed around the midsummer bonfire for the souls of the dead to sit on and warm themselves by the fire. At Brest, thousands of people used to gather on the ramparts in the evening and wave lit torches, swinging them in circles or throwing them into the air by the hundreds. The closing of the town gates would end this event, and the lights could be seen scattering like wandering will-o'-the-wisps. In Upper Brittany, the materials for the midsummer bonfires, usually bundles of furze and heath, are supplied through voluntary donations and stacked on hilltops around poles, with each pole topped by a bouquet or a crown. This bouquet or crown is typically provided by someone named John or Jean, who also lights the bonfire. While the fire blazes, people dance and sing around it, and when the flames settle, they leap over the glowing embers. Charred sticks from the bonfire are thrown into wells to improve the water and taken home as protection against thunder. To maximize their effectiveness against thunderstorms and lightning, it’s recommended to keep them near your bed, alongside a piece of Twelfth Night cake and a sprig of blessed boxwood from Palm Sunday. Flowers from the bouquet or crown that hung over the fire are considered charms against sickness and pain, both physical and spiritual; because of this, girls wear them around their necks threaded with scarlet wool. In many parishes in Brittany, the priest would lead a procession with the crucifix and light the bonfire himself; [pg 185] and farmers would drive their livestock through the fire to keep them safe from illness until the following midsummer. It was also believed that any girl who danced around nine bonfires would marry within that year.

The Midsummer fires in Normandy. The fires serve as protection against witchcraft. The Brotherhood of the Green Wolf at Jumièges. Acting like they're throwing the Green Wolf into the fire.

In Normandy the midsummer fires have now almost disappeared, at least in the district known as the Bocage, but they used to shine on every hill. They were commonly made by piling brushwood, broom, and ferns about a tall tree, which was decorated with a crown of moss and sometimes with flowers. While they burned, people danced and sang round them, and young folk leaped over the flames or the glowing ashes. In the valley of the Orne the custom was to kindle the bonfire just at the moment when the sun was about to dip below the horizon; and the peasants drove their cattle through the fires to protect them against witchcraft, especially against the spells of witches and wizards who attempted to steal the milk and butter.462 At Jumièges in Normandy, down to the first half of the nineteenth century, the midsummer festival was marked by certain singular features which bore the stamp of a very high antiquity. Every year, on the twenty-third of June, the Eve of St. John, the Brotherhood of the Green Wolf chose a new chief or master, who had always to be taken from the hamlet of Conihout. On being elected, the new head of the brotherhood assumed the title of the Green Wolf, and donned a peculiar costume consisting of a long green mantle and a very tall green hat of a conical shape and without a brim. Thus arrayed he stalked solemnly at the head of the brothers, chanting the hymn of St. John, the crucifix and holy banner leading the way, to a place called Chouquet. Here the procession was met by the priest, precentors, and choir, who conducted the brotherhood to the parish church. After hearing mass the company adjourned to the house of the Green Wolf, where a simple repast, such as is required by the church on fast-days, was served up to them. Then they [pg 186] danced before the door till it was time to light the bonfire. Night being come, the fire was kindled to the sound of hand-bells by a young man and a young woman, both decked with flowers. As the flames rose, the Te Deum was sung, and a villager thundered out a parody in the Norman dialect of the hymn ut queant laxis. Meantime the Green Wolf and his brothers, with their hoods down on their shoulders and holding each other by the hand, ran round the fire after the man who had been chosen to be the Green Wolf of the following year. Though only the first and the last man of the chain had a hand free, their business was to surround and seize thrice the future Green Wolf, who in his efforts to escape belaboured the brothers with a long wand which he carried. When at last they succeeded in catching him they carried him to the burning pile and made as if they would throw him on it. This ceremony over, they returned to the house of the Green Wolf, where a supper, still of the most meagre fare, was set before them. Up till midnight a sort of religious solemnity prevailed. No unbecoming word might fall from the lips of any of the company, and a censor, armed with a hand-bell, was appointed to mark and punish instantly any infraction of the rule. But at the stroke of twelve all this was changed. Constraint gave way to license; pious hymns were replaced by Bacchanalian ditties, and the shrill quavering notes of the village fiddle hardly rose above the roar of voices that went up from the merry brotherhood of the Green Wolf. Next day, the twenty-fourth of June or Midsummer Day, was celebrated by the same personages with the same noisy gaiety. One of the ceremonies consisted in parading, to the sound of musketry, an enormous loaf of consecrated bread, which, rising in tiers, was surmounted by a pyramid of verdure adorned with ribbons. After that the holy hand-bells, deposited on the step of the altar, were entrusted as insignia of office to the man who was to be the Green Wolf next year.463

In Normandy, the midsummer fires have nearly vanished, at least in the area known as the Bocage, but they used to blaze on every hill. They were typically created by stacking brushwood, broom, and ferns around a tall tree, which was adorned with a crown of moss and sometimes flowers. As the fires burned, people danced and sang around them, and young folks jumped over the flames or the glowing ashes. In the Orne valley, the tradition was to light the bonfire just as the sun was about to set; the farmers would lead their cattle through the flames to protect them from witchcraft, particularly from the spells of witches and wizards who tried to steal the milk and butter. At Jumièges in Normandy, until the first half of the nineteenth century, the midsummer festival featured unique traditions that date back very far. Every year, on June 23rd, the Eve of St. John, the Brotherhood of the Green Wolf would elect a new leader, who always had to be from the hamlet of Conihout. Once elected, the new leader took on the title of the Green Wolf and wore a distinctive outfit consisting of a long green cloak and a tall green conical hat without a brim. Dressed this way, he would solemnly lead the brothers, chanting the hymn of St. John, with the crucifix and holy banner at the front, to a place called Chouquet. There, the procession would be greeted by the priest, cantors, and choir, who would guide the brotherhood to the parish church. After attending mass, the group would go to the Green Wolf's house, where they were served a simple meal, typical for church fast days. They then danced outside until it was time to light the bonfire. When night fell, a young man and a young woman, both adorned with flowers, lit the fire with the sound of hand-bells. As the flames soared, the Te Deum was sung, and a villager loudly recited a parody in the Norman dialect of the hymn ut queant laxis. Meanwhile, the Green Wolf and his brothers, their hoods down on their shoulders, held hands and ran around the fire after the man appointed to be the next Green Wolf. Although only the first and last men in the line had a free hand, their task was to surround and catch the future Green Wolf, who tried to escape by hitting the brothers with a long stick he carried. When they finally caught him, they pretended to throw him onto the burning pile. After this ceremony, they returned to the Green Wolf's house, where a modest supper was served. Until midnight, a kind of solemnity ruled the gathering. No inappropriate words were allowed from anyone, and a censor with a hand-bell was designated to call out and punish any breaches of this rule, but at the stroke of midnight, everything changed. Restriction gave way to freedom; sacred hymns were swapped for rowdy songs, and the sharp, wobbly notes of the village fiddle barely rose above the raucous voices of the merry brotherhood of the Green Wolf. The following day, June 24th, or Midsummer Day, was celebrated by the same people with the same noisy joy. One of the rituals involved parading with a massive loaf of consecrated bread, which was stacked in tiers and topped with a pyramid of greenery decorated with ribbons, accompanied by the sound of muskets. After that, the holy hand-bells, placed on the altar step, were given as symbols of office to the man who would become the Green Wolf the next year.463

[pg 187]

The Midsummer bonfires in Picardy.

In the canton of Breteuil in Picardy (department of Oise) the priest used to kindle the midsummer bonfire, and the people marched thrice round it in procession. Some of them took ashes of the fire home with them to protect the houses against lightning.464 The custom is, or was down to recent years, similar at Vorges, near Laon. An enormous pyre, some fifty or sixty feet high, supported in the middle by a tall pole, is constructed every year on the twenty-third of June, the Eve of St. John. It stands at one end of the village, and all the inhabitants contribute fuel to it: a cart goes round the village in the morning, by order of the mayor, collecting combustibles from house to house: no one would dream of refusing to comply with the customary obligation. In the evening, after a service in honour of St. John has been performed in the church, the clergy, the mayor, the municipal authorities, the rural police, and the fire-brigade march in procession to the bonfire, accompanied by the inhabitants and a crowd of idlers drawn by curiosity from the neighbouring villages. After addressing the throng in a sermon, to which they pay little heed, the parish priest sprinkles the pyre with holy water, and taking a lighted torch from the hand of an assistant sets fire to the pile. The enormous blaze, flaring up against the dark sky of the summer night, is seen for many miles around, particularly from the hill of Laon. When it has died down into a huge heap of glowing embers and grey ashes, every one carries home a charred stick or some cinders; and the fire-brigade, playing their hose on what remains, extinguishes the smouldering fire. The people preserve the charred sticks and cinders throughout the year, believing that these relics of St. John's bonfire have power to guard them from lightning and from contagious diseases.465 At Château-Thierry, a town of the department of Aisne, between Paris and Reims, the custom of lighting bonfires and dancing round them at the midsummer festival of St. John lasted down to about 1850; the fires were kindled especially when June had [pg 188] been rainy, and the people thought that the lighting of the bonfires would cause the rain to cease.466

In the Breteuil area of Picardy (Oise department), the priest would light the midsummer bonfire, and the townspeople would walk around it three times in a procession. Some of them would take ashes from the fire home to protect their houses from lightning. 464 The custom is, or was until recently, similar in Vorges, near Laon. Every year on June 23, the eve of St. John, a huge bonfire, about fifty or sixty feet tall and supported by a tall pole in the center, is built. It’s placed at one end of the village, and all residents contribute firewood for it. In the morning, a cart goes around the village, directed by the mayor, collecting fuel from each home: no one would think of refusing this customary obligation. In the evening, after a service honoring St. John is held in the church, the clergy, the mayor, local officials, the rural police, and the fire brigade march in a procession to the bonfire, joined by the townspeople and a crowd of curious onlookers from nearby villages. After giving a sermon that most people barely listen to, the parish priest sprinkles holy water on the pyre. Then, taking a lit torch from an assistant, he ignites the bonfire. The massive flames, rising against the dark summer night sky, can be seen for miles, especially from the hill of Laon. Once it burns down to a large pile of glowing embers and gray ashes, everyone takes home a charred stick or some ashes; the fire brigade then sprays water on the remnants to put out the smoldering fire. People keep the charred sticks and ashes throughout the year, believing these remnants of St. John’s bonfire can protect them from lightning and infectious diseases. 465 In Château-Thierry, a town in the Aisne department between Paris and Reims, the tradition of lighting bonfires and dancing around them for the midsummer festival of St. John continued until around 1850; the bonfires were especially lit when it had been a rainy June, as people believed that lighting the bonfires would make the rain stop. 466

The Midsummer bonfires in Beauce and Perche served as a protection against witchcraft.

In Beauce and Perche, two neighbouring districts of France to the south-west of Paris, the midsummer bonfires have nearly or wholly disappeared, but formerly they were commonly kindled and went by the name of the “fires of St. John.” The site of the bonfire was either the village square or beside the cross in the cemetery. Here a great pile of faggots, brushwood, and grass was accumulated about a huge branch, which bore at the top a crown of fresh flowers. The priest blessed the bonfire and the people danced round it. When it blazed and crackled, the bystanders thrust their heads into the puffs of smoke, in the belief that it would preserve them from a multitude of ills; and when the fire was burnt out, they rushed upon the charred embers and ashes and carried them home, imagining that they had a secret virtue to guard their houses from being struck by lightning or consumed by fire. Some of the Perche farmers in the old days, not content with the public bonfire, used to light little private bonfires in their farmyards and make all their cattle pass through the smoke and flames for the purpose of protecting them against witchcraft or disease.467

In Beauce and Perche, two nearby regions in France southwest of Paris, midsummer bonfires have mostly or completely faded away, but in the past, they were often lit and called the “St. John’s fires.” The bonfire was typically set up in the village square or near the cross in the cemetery. A big stack of branches, brush, and grass was built around a large branch that had a crown of fresh flowers on top. The priest would bless the bonfire, and people would dance around it. As it blazed and crackled, onlookers would lean into the smoke, believing it would protect them from many misfortunes; and when the fire died down, they would rush to take the charred embers and ashes home, thinking they had a special power to shield their homes from lightning strikes or fires. Some farmers in Perche, back in the day, not satisfied with the community bonfire, would light small private bonfires in their yards and make all their cattle walk through the smoke and flames to protect them from witchcraft or sickness.467

The Midsummer fires in the Ardennes, Vosges, and Jura. The Midsummer fires in Franche-Comté. The Midsummer fires in Berry and other regions of Central France.

In the department of the Ardennes every one was wont to contribute his faggot to the midsummer bonfire, and the clergy marched at the head of the procession to kindle it. Failure to light the fires would, in the popular belief, have exposed the fields to the greatest danger. At Revin the young folk, besides dancing round the fire to the strains of the village fiddler, threw garlands of flowers across the flames to each other.468 In the Vosges it is still customary to kindle bonfires upon the hill-tops on Midsummer Eve; the people believe that the fires help to preserve the fruits of the earth and ensure good crops.469 In the Jura Mountains the midsummer [pg 189] bonfires went by the name of or beau. They were lit on the most conspicuous points of the landscape.470 Near St. Jean, in the Jura, it appears that at this season young people still repair to the cross-roads and heights, and there wave burning torches so as to present the appearance of fiery wheels in the darkness.471 In Franche-Comté, the province of France which lies immediately to the west of the Jura mountains, the fires of St. John still shone on the saint's day in several villages down to recent years. They were generally lit on high ground and the young folks of both sexes sang and danced round them, and sprang over the dying flames.472 In Bresse bonfires used to be kindled on Midsummer Eve (the twenty-third of June) and the people danced about them in a circle. Devout persons, particularly old women, circumambulated the fires fourteen times, telling their beads and mumbling seven Paters and seven Aves in the hope that thereby they would feel no pains in their backs when they stooped over the sickle in the harvest field.473 In Berry, a district of Central France, the midsummer fire was lit on the Eve of St. John and went by the name of the jônée, joannée, or jouannée. Every family according to its means contributed faggots, which were piled round a pole on the highest ground in the neighbourhood. In the hamlets the office of kindling the fire devolved on the oldest man, but in the towns it was the priest or the mayor who discharged the duty. Here, as in Brittany, people supposed that a girl who had danced round nine of the midsummer bonfires would marry within the year. To leap several times over the fire was regarded as a sort of purification which kept off sickness and brought good luck to the leaper. Hence the nimble youth bounded through the smoke and flames, and when the fire had somewhat abated parents jumped across it with their children in their arms in order that the little ones might also partake of its beneficent [pg 190] influence. Embers from the extinct bonfire were taken home, and after being dipped in holy water were kept as a talisman against all kinds of misfortune, but especially against lightning.474 The same virtue was ascribed to the ashes and charred sticks of the midsummer bonfire in Périgord, where everybody contributed his share of fuel to the pile and the whole was crowned with flowers, especially with roses and lilies.475 On the borders of the departments of Creuse and Corrèze, in Central France, the fires of St. John used to be lit on the Eve of the saint's day (the twenty-third of June); the custom seems to have survived till towards the end of the nineteenth century. Men, women, and children assembled round the fires, and the young people jumped over them. Children were brought by their parents or elder brothers into contact with the flames in the belief that this would save them from fever. Older people girded themselves with stalks of rye taken from a neighbouring field, because they fancied that by so doing they would not grow weary in reaping the corn at harvest.476

In the Ardennes, everyone used to bring their firewood for the midsummer bonfire, and the clergy led the procession to light it. People believed that failing to light the fires would put the fields at great risk. In Revin, the youth not only danced around the fire to the village fiddler's music but also tossed flower garlands across the flames to each other.468 In the Vosges, it's still a tradition to light bonfires on hilltops on Midsummer Eve; people believe that the fires help protect the earth's fruits and guarantee good crops.469 In the Jura Mountains, the midsummer bonfires were called or honey. They were set on the most prominent points of the landscape.470 Near St. Jean in the Jura, it seems that during this time young people still gather at crossroads and heights, waving burning torches to create the illusion of fiery wheels in the darkness.471 In Franche-Comté, the region of France just west of the Jura mountains, St. John's fires continued to shine on the saint's day in several villages up until recent years. They were usually lit on elevated ground where young people of both genders sang and danced around them, jumping over the dying flames.472 In Bresse, bonfires used to be lit on Midsummer Eve (June 23rd), with people dancing around them in a circle. Devout individuals, especially older women, would walk around the fires fourteen times while counting their rosary beads and mumbling seven Fathers and seven Birds in hopes that they would not suffer from back pain when bending over to use their sickles in the harvest field.473 In Berry, a region in Central France, the midsummer fire was lit on St. John's Eve and was known as the jonee, joannée, or jouannée. Each family contributed firewood according to their means, piling it up around a pole on the highest ground in the area. In the hamlets, the oldest man would typically light the fire, while in towns, it was the priest or the mayor's responsibility. Here, as in Brittany, people believed that a girl who danced around nine of the midsummer bonfires would get married within the year. Leaping several times over the fire was seen as a form of purification that warded off illness and brought good luck to the jumper. As a result, agile young people jumped through the smoke and flames, and once the fire had died down a bit, parents jumped over it holding their children to ensure the little ones could also benefit from its good [pg 190] effects. They took embers from the extinguished bonfire home, and after dipping them in holy water, kept them as a talisman against all sorts of misfortunes, particularly lightning.474 The same protective qualities were attributed to the ashes and burnt sticks of the midsummer bonfire in Périgord, where everyone contributed their share of fuel to the pile, and it was topped with flowers, especially roses and lilies.475 On the borders of the Creuse and Corrèze departments in Central France, St. John's fires used to be lit on the evening before the saint's day (June 23rd); this custom appears to have lasted until the late nineteenth century. Men, women, and children would gather around the fires, and young people would jump over them. Children were brought by their parents or older siblings close to the flames, believing this would protect them from fever. Older people would tie stalks of rye around themselves from a nearby field, thinking this would help prevent fatigue during the harvest.476

The Midsummer bonfires in Poitou.

Bonfires were lit in almost all the hamlets of Poitou on the Eve of St. John. People marched round them thrice, carrying a branch of walnut in their hand. Shepherdesses and children passed sprigs of mullein (verbascum) and nuts across the flames; the nuts were supposed to cure toothache, and the mullein to protect the cattle from sickness and sorcery. When the fire died down people took some of the ashes home with them, either to keep them in the house as a preservative against thunder or to scatter them on the fields for the purpose of destroying corn-cockles and darnel. Stones were also placed round the fire, and it was believed that the first to lift one of these stones next morning would find under it the hair of St. John.477 In Poitou also it used to be [pg 191] customary on the Eve of St. John to trundle a blazing wheel wrapt in straw over the fields to fertilize them.478 This last custom is said to be now extinct,479 but it is still usual, or was so down to recent years, in Poitou to kindle fires on this day at cross-roads or on the heights. The oldest or youngest person present sets a light to the pile, which consists of broom, gorse, and heath. A bright and crackling blaze shoots up, but soon dies down, and over it the young folk leap. They also throw stones into it, picking the stone according to the size of the turnips that they wish to have that year. It is said that “the good Virgin” comes and sits on the prettiest of the stones, and next morning they see there her beautiful golden tresses. At Lussac, in Poitou, the lighting of the midsummer bonfire is still an affair of some ceremony. A pyramid of faggots is piled round a tree or tall pole on the ground where the fair is held; the priest goes in procession to the spot and kindles the pile. When prayers have been said and the clergy have withdrawn, the people continue to march round the fire, telling their beads, but it is not till the flames have begun to die down that the youth jump over them. A brand from the midsummer bonfire is supposed to be a preservative against thunder.480

Bonfires were lit in almost every village in Poitou on the Eve of St. John. People walked around them three times, holding a walnut branch in their hands. Shepherdesses and children passed sprigs of mullein (mullein) and nuts through the flames; the nuts were believed to relieve toothaches, while the mullein was thought to protect livestock from illness and witchcraft. When the fire burned down, people took some ashes home to either keep in the house as protection against thunder or scatter on the fields to get rid of corn-cockles and darnel. Stones were also placed around the fire, and it was believed that the first person to lift one of these stones the next morning would find the hair of St. John underneath it.477 In Poitou, it was also customary on the Eve of St. John to roll a flaming wheel wrapped in straw over the fields to fertilize them.478 This last custom is said to be extinct now,479 but it was still common, at least until recently, in Poitou to light fires on this day at crossroads or on hilltops. The oldest or youngest person present would ignite the pile, which consisted of broom, gorse, and heath. A bright and crackling blaze would shoot up, but soon die down, as the young people leaped over it. They also tossed stones into the fire, choosing the size of their stones based on the size of the turnips they hoped to grow that year. It was said that "the Blessed Virgin" would come and sit on the prettiest stone, and the next morning they would find her beautiful golden hair there. In Lussac, Poitou, lighting the midsummer bonfire is still a ceremonial event. A pyramid of twigs is stacked around a tree or tall pole in the area where the fair takes place; the priest processes to the site and lights the pile. Once prayers have been said and the clergy have left, the people continue to walk around the fire, saying their rosaries, but only after the flames begin to die down do the young people jump over them. A brand from the midsummer bonfire is said to protect against thunder.480

The Midsummer fires in the Vienne and Deux-Sèvres regions, as well as in the provinces of Saintonge and Aunis.

In the department of Vienne the bonfire was kindled by the oldest man, and before the dance round the flames began it was the custom to pass across them a great bunch of mullein (bouillon blanc) and a branch of walnut, which next morning before sunrise were fastened over the door of the chief cattle-shed.481 A similar custom prevailed in the neighbouring department of Deux-Sèvres; but here it was the priest who kindled the bonfire, and old men used to put embers of the fire in their wooden shoes as a preservative [pg 192] against many evils.482 In some towns and villages of Saintonge and Aunis, provinces of Western France now mostly comprised in the department of Charente Inférieure, the fires of St. John are still kindled on Midsummer Eve, but the custom is neither so common nor carried out with so much pomp and ceremony as formerly. Great quantities of wood used to be piled on an open space round about a huge post or a tree stripped of its leaves and branches. Every one took care to contribute a faggot to the pile, and the whole population marched to the spot in procession with the crucifix at their head and the priest bringing up the rear. The squire, or other person of high degree, put the torch to the pyre, and the priest blessed it. In the southern and eastern parts of Saintonge children and cattle were passed through the smoke of the bonfires to preserve them from contagious diseases, and when the fire had gone out the people scuffled for the charred fragments of the great post, which they regarded as talismans against thunder. Next morning, on Midsummer Day, every shepherdess in the neighbourhood was up very early, for the first to drive her sheep over the blackened cinders and ashes of the great bonfire was sure to have the best flock all that year. Where the shepherds shrunk from driving their flocks through the smoke and flames of the bonfire they contented themselves with marking the hinder-quarters of the animals with a broom which had been blackened in the ashes.483

In the department of Vienne, the bonfire was lit by the oldest man, and before the dance around the flames began, it was customary to pass a large bunch of mullein (white broth) and a branch of walnut across the fire, which would then be hung over the door of the main cattle-shed the next morning before sunrise. 481 A similar custom existed in the neighboring department of Deux-Sèvres; here, however, the priest would light the bonfire, and older men would put embers from the fire in their wooden shoes as protection [pg 192] against various misfortunes. 482 In some towns and villages of Saintonge and Aunis, provinces of Western France now mostly part of the department of Charente Inférieure, the fires of St. John are still lit on Midsummer Eve, but the custom is not as common nor celebrated with as much grandeur as it once was. Large amounts of wood would be stacked in an open area around a huge post or a tree stripped of its leaves and branches. Everyone would contribute a bundle to the pile, and the whole community would march to the site in a procession with the crucifix at the front and the priest bringing up the rear. The local squire, or another notable figure, would ignite the pyre, and the priest would bless it. In the southern and eastern regions of Saintonge, children and livestock would be passed through the smoke of the bonfires to protect them from contagious diseases, and once the fire died down, people would scramble for the charred remains of the large post, which they believed protected them from thunder. The next morning, on Midsummer Day, every shepherdess in the area would wake up very early, as the first one to drive her sheep over the scorched cinders and ashes of the bonfire was assured of having the best flock that year. Those shepherds who hesitated to drive their flocks through the smoke and flames of the bonfire settled for marking the sheep's rear ends with a broom that had been charred in the ashes. 483

The Midsummer fires in Southern France. Midsummer festival of fire and water in Provence. Swimming in the sea at Midsummer. Temporary Midsummer kings in Aix and Marseilles.

In the mountainous part of Comminges, a province of Southern France, now comprised in the department of Haute Garonne, the midsummer fire is made by splitting open the trunk of a tall tree, stuffing the crevice with shavings, and igniting the whole. A garland of flowers is fastened to the top of the tree, and at the moment when the fire is lighted the man who was last married has to climb up a ladder and bring the flowers down. In the flat parts of the same district the materials of the midsummer bonfires consist of fuel piled in the usual way; but they must be [pg 193] put together by men who have been married since the last midsummer festival, and each of these benedicts is obliged to lay a wreath of flowers on the top of the pile.484 At the entrance of the valley of Aran young people set up on the banks of the Garonne a tree covered with ribbons and garlands; at the end of a year the withered tree and faded flowers furnish excellent fuel. So on the Eve of St. John the villagers assemble, and an old man or a child kindles the fire which is to consume tree and garlands together. While the blaze lasts the people sing and dance; and the burnt tree is then replaced by another which will suffer the same fate after the lapse of a year.485 In some districts of the French Pyrenees it is deemed necessary to leap nine times over the midsummer fire if you would be assured of prosperity.486 A traveller in Southern France at the beginning of the nineteenth century tells us that “the Eve of St. John is also a day of joy for the Provençals. They light great fires and the young folk leap over them. At Aix they shower squibs and crackers on the passers-by, which has often had disagreeable consequences. At Marseilles they drench each other with scented water, which is poured from the windows or squirted from little syringes; the roughest jest is to souse passers-by with clean water, which gives rise to loud bursts of laughter.”487 At Draguignan, in the department of Var, fires used to be lit in every street on the Eve of St. John, and the people roasted pods of garlic at them; the pods were afterwards distributed to every family. Another diversion of the evening was to pour cans of water from the houses on the heads of people in the streets.488 In Provence the midsummer fires are still popular. Children go from door to door begging for fuel, and they are seldom sent empty away. Formerly the priest, the mayor, and the aldermen used to walk in procession to the bonfire, and even deigned to light it; after which the assembly marched thrice round the burning pile, while the [pg 194] church bells pealed and rockets fizzed and sputtered in the air. Dancing began later, and the bystanders threw water on each other. At Ciotat, while the fire was blazing, the young people plunged into the sea and splashed each other vigorously. At Vitrolles they bathed in a pond in order that they might not suffer from fever during the year, and at Saintes-Maries they watered the horses to protect them from the itch.489 At Aix a nominal king, chosen from among the youth for his skill in shooting at a popinjay, presided over the festival. He selected his own officers, and escorted by a brilliant train marched to the bonfire, kindled it, and was the first to dance round it. Next day he distributed largesse to his followers. His reign lasted a year, during which he enjoyed certain privileges. He was allowed to attend the mass celebrated by the commander of the Knights of St. John on St. John's Day: the right of hunting was accorded to him; and soldiers might not be quartered in his house. At Marseilles also on this day one of the guilds chose a king of the badache or double axe; but it does not appear that he kindled the bonfire, which is said to have been lighted with great ceremony by the préfet and other authorities.490

In the mountainous region of Comminges, a province in Southern France, now part of Haute Garonne, people celebrate midsummer by splitting open the trunk of a tall tree, filling the gap with shavings, and lighting it up. A garland of flowers is tied to the top of the tree, and when the fire is lit, the last man to get married has to climb a ladder to take the flowers down. In the flat areas of the same region, the midsummer bonfires are made from stacked wood, but they must be constructed by men who have married since the last midsummer festival, and each of these married men has to place a wreath of flowers on top of the pile. At the entrance to the Aran valley, young people set up a tree decorated with ribbons and garlands along the Garonne River; after a year, the dried tree and faded flowers make great firewood. So, on the Eve of St. John, the villagers gather, and an old man or a child lights the fire that will burn the tree and garlands together. While the fire is burning, people sing and dance; then the burned tree is replaced by another that will meet the same fate in a year. In some areas of the French Pyrenees, it's believed you should jump over the midsummer fire nine times to ensure good fortune. A traveler in Southern France at the beginning of the 1800s noted that “the Eve of St. John is also a day of joy for the Provençals. They light big fires and the young people leap over them. In Aix, they shower firecrackers on passers-by, which has often led to unpleasant incidents. In Marseilles, they drench each other with scented water, poured from windows or sprayed from small syringes; the most playful joke is to splash clean water on passers-by, which brings fits of laughter.” In Draguignan, in the Var department, fires used to be lit in every street on the Eve of St. John, and people roasted garlic pods over them, which were then given to every family. Another evening activity was pouring buckets of water from houses onto people in the streets. In Provence, midsummer fires are still a thing. Children go door to door asking for fuel, and they're usually given something. In the past, the priest, the mayor, and the council members would process to the bonfire and even light it; then they would walk around the burning pile three times as church bells rang and fireworks popped in the air. Dancing would follow, and people would splash water on each other. In Ciotat, while the fire burned, young people would jump into the sea and splash one another. In Vitrolles, they would bathe in a pond to avoid getting fevers throughout the year, and in Saintes-Maries, they would water the horses to protect them from skin irritation. In Aix, a symbolic king was chosen from the youth for his marksmanship with a popinjay; he led the festivities, selected his officers, marched in a grand procession to the bonfire, lit it, and was the first to dance around it. The next day, he shared gifts with his followers. His reign lasted a year, during which he enjoyed certain privileges: he was allowed to attend the mass held by the commander of the Knights of St. John on St. John's Day, he had the right to hunt, and soldiers were not allowed to be quartered in his home. In Marseilles, another guild would also elect a king of the badache or double axe, although it seems he didn't light the bonfire, which was ceremoniously lit by the préfet and other officials.

The Midsummer fires in Belgium. Bonfires on St. Peter's Day in Brabant. The King and Queen of the Roses. Effigies burned in the Midsummer fires.

In Belgium the custom of kindling the midsummer bonfires has long disappeared from the great cities, but it is still kept up in rural districts and small towns of Brabant, Flanders, and Limburg. People leap across the fires to protect themselves against fever, and in eastern Flanders women perform similar leaps for the purpose of ensuring an easy delivery. At Termonde young people go from door to door collecting fuel for the fires and reciting verses, in which they beg the inmates to give them “wood of St. John” and to keep some wood for St. Peter's Day (the twenty-ninth of June); for in Belgium the Eve of St. Peter's Day is celebrated by bonfires and dances exactly like those which commemorate St. John's Eve. The ashes of [pg 195] the St. John's fires are deemed by Belgian peasants an excellent remedy for consumption, if you take a spoonful or two of them, moistened with water, day by day. People also burn vervain in the fires, and they say that in the ashes of the plant you may find, if you look for it, the “Fool's Stone.”491 In many parts of Brabant St. Peter's bonfire used to be much larger than that of his rival St. John. When it had burned out, both sexes engaged in a game of ball, and the winner became the King of Summer or of the Ball and had the right to choose his Queen. Sometimes the winner was a woman, and it was then her privilege to select her royal mate. This pastime was well known at Louvain and it continued to be practised at Grammont and Mespelaer down to the second half of the nineteenth century. At Mespelaer, which is a village near Termonde, a huge pile of eglantine, reeds, and straw was collected in a marshy meadow for the bonfire; and next evening after vespers the young folk who had lit it assembled at the “Good Life” tavern to play the game. The winner was crowned with a wreath of roses, and the rest danced and sang in a ring about him. At Grammont, while the bonfire was lit and the dances round it took place on St. Peter's Eve, the festival of the “Crown of Roses” was deferred till the following Sunday. The young folk arranged among themselves beforehand who should be King and Queen of the Roses: the rosy wreaths were hung on cords across the street: the dancers danced below them, and at a given moment the wreaths fell on the heads of the chosen King and Queen, who had to entertain their fellows at a feast. According to some people the fires of St. Peter, like those of St. John, were lighted in order to drive away dragons.492 In French Flanders down to 1789 a straw figure representing a man was always burned in the midsummer bonfire, and the figure of a woman was burned on St. Peter's Day.493 In Belgium people jump over the midsummer bonfires as a [pg 196] preventive of colic, and they keep the ashes at home to hinder fire from breaking out.494

In Belgium, the tradition of lighting midsummer bonfires has largely faded from the big cities, but it still thrives in the rural areas and small towns of Brabant, Flanders, and Limburg. People jump over the fires to protect themselves from fever, and in eastern Flanders, women do similar jumps to ensure an easy delivery. In Termonde, young people go door to door collecting fuel for the fires while reciting verses, asking residents to give them “St. John's wood” and to save some wood for St. Peter's Day (June 29); in Belgium, the Eve of St. Peter's Day is celebrated with bonfires and dances similar to those for St. John's Eve. The ashes from [pg 195] the St. John's fires are considered an effective remedy for consumption if taken daily in a spoonful or two, mixed with water. People also burn vervain in the fires, claiming that if you search through the ashes, you may find the “Fool's Stone.”491 In many parts of Brabant, St. Peter's bonfire was often much larger than St. John's. After it burned out, both men and women played a ball game, and the winner became the King of Summer or the Ball and got to choose his Queen. Sometimes the winner was a woman, granting her the right to select her royal partner. This activity was well-known in Louvain and continued to be practiced in Grammont and Mespelaer until the late nineteenth century. In Mespelaer, a village near Termonde, a massive pile of dog roses, reeds, and straw was gathered in a marshy meadow for the bonfire; the next evening after vespers, the young people who had lit it gathered at the "Good Life" tavern to play the game. The winner was crowned with a wreath of roses, and the others danced and sang around him. In Grammont, while the bonfire was lit and the dances took place on St. Peter's Eve, the “Crown of Roses” festival was postponed until the following Sunday. The young folks organized among themselves in advance who would be the King and Queen of the Roses: the rosy wreaths were hung on cords across the street, and as the dancers performed below, the wreaths fell at a designated moment onto the heads of the chosen King and Queen, who then had to host a feast for their friends. Some believe that the fires of St. Peter, like those of St. John, were lit to ward off dragons.492 In French Flanders until 1789, a straw figure representing a man was always burned in the midsummer bonfire, while a female figure was burned on St. Peter's Day.493 In Belgium, people jump over the midsummer bonfires as a [pg 196] way to prevent colic, and they keep the ashes at home to prevent fires from breaking out.494

The Midsummer fires in England. Stow's account of the Midsummer fires in London. The Midsummer fires at Eton.

The custom of lighting bonfires at midsummer has been observed in many parts of our own country. “On the Vigil of Saint John the Baptist, commonly called Midsummer Eve, it was usual in most country places, and also in towns and cities, for the inhabitants, both old and young, and of both sexes, to meet together, and make merry by the side of a large fire made in the middle of the street, or in some open and convenient place, over which the young men frequently leaped by way of frolic, and also exercised themselves with various sports and pastimes, more especially with running, wrestling, and dancing. These diversions they continued till midnight, and sometimes till cock-crowing.”495 In the streets of London the midsummer fires were lighted in the time of Queen Elizabeth down to the end of the sixteenth century, as we learn from Stow's description, which runs thus: “In the months of June and July, on the vigils of festival days, and on the same festival days in the evenings after the sun setting, there were usually made bonfires in the streets, every man bestowing wood or labour towards them; the wealthier sort also, before their doors near to the said bonfires, would set out tables on the vigils furnished with sweet bread and good drink, and on the festival days with meats and drinks plentifully, whereunto they would invite their neighbours and passengers also to sit and be merry with them in great familiarity, praising God for His benefits bestowed on them. These were called bonfires as well of good amity amongst neighbours that being before at controversy, were there, by the labour of others, reconciled, and made of bitter enemies loving friends; and also for the virtue that a great fire hath to purge the infection of the air. On the vigil of St. John the Baptist, and on St. Peter and Paul the Apostles, every man's door being shadowed with green birch, long fennel, St. John's wort, orpin, white lilies, and such like, garnished upon with garlands of beautiful flowers, had also lamps of glass, with oil burning in them all the night; some hung [pg 197] out branches of iron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps alight at once, which made a goodly show, namely, in New Fish Street, Thames Street, etc.”496 In the sixteenth century the Eton boys used to kindle a bonfire on the east side of the church both on St. John's Day and on St. Peter's Day.497 Writing in the second half of the seventeenth century, the antiquary John Aubrey tells us that bonfires were still kindled in many places on St. John's Night, but that the civil wars had thrown many of these old customs out of fashion. Wars, he adds, extinguish superstition as well as religion and laws, and there is nothing like gunpowder for putting phantoms to flight.498

The tradition of lighting bonfires at midsummer has been practiced in many areas of our country. On the eve of Saint John the Baptist, often referred to as Midsummer Eve, it was a tradition for people of all ages and genders in most rural areas, as well as towns and cities, to come together and celebrate around a large fire set up in the middle of the street or in a suitable open area. Young men would frequently leap over the fire for fun and participate in various sports and activities, especially running, wrestling, and dancing. These celebrations would carry on until midnight, and sometimes even until dawn.495 In the streets of London, midsummer fires were lit during the reign of Queen Elizabeth until the end of the sixteenth century, as noted in Stow's account, which states: In June and July, on the evenings of festival days and the nights before them, bonfires were usually set up in the streets, with everyone pitching in wood or helping out. Wealthier families would also set up tables outside their homes near these bonfires, offering sweet bread and drinks on the vigil and providing plenty of food and drink on the festival days, inviting their neighbors and passersby to join in the celebration, giving thanks to God for His blessings. These were called bonfires because they promoted goodwill among neighbors who, having previously been in conflict, were reconciled through the efforts of others and transformed from bitter enemies into loving friends. Additionally, a large fire is known to purify the air. On the vigil of St. John the Baptist and on the feast of St. Peter and Paul, every door was decorated with green birch, long fennel, St. John's wort, orpin, white lilies, and other similar plants, adorned with garlands of beautiful flowers, while glass lamps with burning oil lit up the night; some displayed intricate wrought iron branches holding hundreds of lamps lit at once, creating a beautiful sight, especially in New Fish Street, Thames Street, and similar areas.496 In the sixteenth century, the boys from Eton would start a bonfire on the east side of the church on both St. John's Day and St. Peter's Day.497 Writing in the latter half of the seventeenth century, the antiquarian John Aubrey tells us that bonfires were still lit in many areas on St. John's Night, but that the civil wars had made many of these old customs less popular. He noted that wars extinguish superstition just as much as they do religion and laws, and nothing dispels phantoms quite like gunpowder.498

The Midsummer fires in northern England. The Midsummer fires in Northumberland. The Midsummer fires at Whalton in Northumberland.

In the north of England these fires used to be lit in the open streets. Young and old gathered round them, and while the young leaped over the fires and engaged in games, their elders looked on and probably remembered with regret the days when they used to foot it as nimbly. Sometimes the fires were kindled on the tops of high hills. The people also carried firebrands about the fields.499 The custom of kindling bonfires on Midsummer Eve prevailed all over Cumberland down to the second half of the eighteenth century.500 In Northumberland the custom seems to have lasted into the first quarter of the nineteenth century; the fires were lit in the villages and on the tops of high hills, and the people sported and danced round them.501 Moreover, the villagers used to run with burning brands round their [pg 198] fields and to snatch ashes from a neighbour's fire, saying as they did so, “We have the flower (or flour) of the wake.”502 At Sandhill bonfires were kindled on the Eve of St. Peter as well as on Midsummer Eve; the custom is attested for the year 1575, when it was described as ancient.503 We are told that “on Midsummer's eve, reckoned according to the old style, it was formerly the custom of the inhabitants, young and old, not only of Whalton, but of most of the adjacent villages, to collect a large cartload of whins and other combustible materials, which was dragged by them with great rejoicing (a fiddler being seated on the top of the cart) into the village and erected into a pile. The people from the surrounding country assembled towards evening, when it was set on fire; and whilst the young danced around it, the elders looked on smoking their pipes and drinking their beer, until it was consumed. There can be little doubt that this curious old custom dates from a very remote antiquity.” In a law-suit, which was tried in 1878, the rector of Whalton gave evidence of the constant use of the village green for the ceremony since 1843. “The bonfire,” he said, “was lighted a little to the north-east of the well at Whalton, and partly on the footpath, and people danced round it and jumped through it. That was never interrupted.” The Rev. G. R. Hall, writing in 1879, says that “the fire festivals or bonfires of the summer solstice at the Old Midsummer until recently were commemorated on Christenburg Crags and elsewhere by leaping through and dancing round the fires, as those who have been present have told me.”504 Down to the early part of the nineteenth century bonfires called Beal-fires used to be lit on Midsummer Eve all over the wolds in the East Riding of Yorkshire.505

In northern England, these fires were once lit in the open streets. People of all ages gathered around them, and while the young jumped over the flames and played games, their elders watched, likely reminiscing about the days when they could move just as nimbly. Sometimes the fires were lit on the tops of high hills. People also carried torches around the fields.499 The tradition of lighting bonfires on Midsummer Eve was widespread throughout Cumberland until the second half of the eighteenth century.500 In Northumberland, this custom appears to have continued into the early nineteenth century; the fires were set in villages and on high hills, with people celebrating and dancing around them.501 Additionally, villagers would run with flaming torches around their fields and grab ashes from a neighbor's fire, saying as they did, "We have the flower (or flour) of the wake." 502 In Sandhill, bonfires were lit on the Eve of St. Peter as well as on Midsummer Eve; this custom was recorded as far back as 1575, when it was described as being ancient.503 It is said that On Midsummer's Eve, according to the old calendar, it used to be the tradition for villagers, both young and old, not just in Whalton but in most nearby villages, to collect a large cartload of gorse and other flammable materials, which they happily pulled (with a fiddler sitting on top of the cart) into the village and stacked up. People from the surrounding area would come in the evening to see it lit; while the young danced around it, the elders watched, smoking their pipes and drinking beer until the fire went out. There’s no doubt that this fascinating old custom goes back to very ancient times. In a lawsuit tried in 1878, the rector of Whalton testified about the ongoing use of the village green for this event since 1843. "The campfire," he stated, “was set up a bit to the northeast of the well at Whalton, partly on the pathway, and people danced around it and jumped through it. That was never disrupted.” The Rev. G. R. Hall, writing in 1879, noted that "The fire festivals or bonfires of the summer solstice at the Old Midsummer, until recently, involved jumping through and dancing around the fires at Christenburg Crags and other places, according to those who have attended." 504 Up until the early nineteenth century, bonfires known as Beal-fires were lit on Midsummer Eve across the wolds in the East Riding of Yorkshire.505

[pg 199]

The Midsummer fires in Herefordshire, Somerset, Devon, and Cornwall. The Cornish fires on Midsummer Eve and St. Peter's Eve.

In Herefordshire and Somersetshire the peasants used to make fires in the fields on Midsummer Eve “to bless the apples.”506 In Devonshire the custom of leaping over the midsummer fires was also observed.507 “In Cornwall, the festival fires, called bonfires, are kindled on the Eves of St. John Baptist and St. Peter's day; and Midsummer is thence, in the Cornish tongue, called Goluan, which signifies both light and rejoicing. At these fires the Cornish attend with lighted torches, tarred and pitched at the end, and make their perambulations round their fires, going from village to village and carrying their torches before them; this is certainly the remains of Druid superstition; for, Faces praeferre, to carry lighted torches was reckoned a kind of gentilism, and as such particularly prohibited by the Gallick Councils.”508 At Penzance and elsewhere in the county the people danced and sang about the bonfires on Midsummer Eve. On Whiteborough, a large tumulus near Launceston, a huge bonfire used to be kindled on Midsummer Eve; a tall summer pole with a large bush at the top was fixed in the centre of the bonfire.509 The Cornish fires at this season appear to have been commonly lit on high and conspicuous hills, such as Tregonan, Godolphin, Carnwarth, and Carn Brea. When it grew dusk on Midsummer Eve, old men would hobble away to some height whence they counted the fires and drew a presage from their number.510 “It is the immemorial usage in Penzance, and the neighbouring towns and villages, to kindle bonfires and torches on Midsummer-eve; and on Midsummer-day to hold a fair on Penzance quay, where the country folks assemble from the adjoining parishes in great numbers to make excursions on the water. St. Peter's Eve [pg 200] [the twenty-eighth of June] is distinguished by a similar display of bonfires and torches, although the ‘quay-fair’ on St. Peter's-day [the twenty-ninth of June], has been discontinued upwards of forty years. On these eves a line of tar-barrels, relieved occasionally by large bonfires, is seen in the centre of each of the principal streets in Penzance. On either side of this line young men and women pass up and down, swinging round their heads heavy torches made of large pieces of folded canvas steeped in tar, and nailed to the ends of sticks between three and four feet long; the flames of some of these almost equal those of the tar-barrels. Rows of lighted candles, also, when the air is calm, are fixed outside the windows or along the sides of the streets. In St. Just, and other mining parishes, the young miners, mimicking their fathers' employments, bore rows of holes in the rocks, load them with gunpowder, and explode them in rapid succession by trains of the same substance. As the holes are not deep enough to split the rocks, the same little batteries serve for many years. On these nights, Mount's Bay has a most animating appearance, although not equal to what was annually witnessed at the beginning of the present century, when the whole coast, from the Land's End to the Lizard, wherever a town or a village existed, was lighted up with these stationary or moving fires. In the early part of the evening, children may be seen wearing wreaths of flowers—a custom in all probability originating from the ancient use of these ornaments when they danced around the fires. At the close of the fireworks in Penzance, a great number of persons of both sexes, chiefly from the neighbourhood of the quay, used always, until within the last few years, to join hand in hand, forming a long string, and run through the streets, playing ‘thread the needle,’ heedless of the fireworks showered upon them, and oftentimes leaping over the yet glowing embers. I have on these occasions seen boys following one another, jumping through flames higher than themselves.”511

In Herefordshire and Somerset, the locals would make fires in the fields on Midsummer Eve “to bless the apples.” In Devonshire, people also jumped over the midsummer fires. “In Cornwall, the festival fires, called bonfires, are lit on the Eves of St. John Baptist and St. Peter's Day, and Midsummer is referred to in Cornish as Goluan, which means both light and rejoicing. At these fires, Cornish people come with lit torches, which are tarred and pitched at the end, and circle around their fires, moving from village to village while carrying their torches. This is certainly a remnant of Druid superstition; for, Faces praeferre, to carry lighted torches, was considered a form of paganism, and was specifically prohibited by the Gallick Councils.” At Penzance and other areas in the county, people would dance and sing around the bonfires on Midsummer Eve. On Whiteborough, a large burial mound near Launceston, a huge bonfire was lit on Midsummer Eve; a tall summer pole with a large bush on top was placed in the center of the bonfire. The Cornish fires during this season were typically lit on high, visible hills, like Tregonan, Godolphin, Carnwarth, and Carn Brea. As dusk fell on Midsummer Eve, old men would make their way to a high spot to count the fires and make predictions based on their number. “In Penzance and the nearby towns and villages, it's a long-standing tradition to light bonfires and torches on Midsummer Eve; and on Midsummer Day, a fair is held on Penzance quay, where many locals gather from surrounding parishes to enjoy outings on the water. St. Peter's Eve [the twenty-eighth of June] is marked by a similar display of bonfires and torches, although the ‘quay-fair’ on St. Peter's Day [the twenty-ninth of June] has not taken place for over forty years. On these eves, a line of tar-barrels, occasionally interrupted by large bonfires, can be seen down the center of the main streets in Penzance. Young men and women move up and down this line, swinging heavy torches made from large pieces of canvas soaked in tar and attached to sticks three to four feet long; some of the flames from these nearly match those of the tar-barrels. When the air is calm, rows of lit candles are also placed outside windows or along the streets. In St. Just and other mining areas, young miners, imitating their fathers, drill rows of holes in the rocks, fill them with gunpowder, and detonate them in quick succession using connections of the same material. Because the holes aren't deep enough to shatter the rocks, the same small setups can be used for many years. On these nights, Mount's Bay looks especially lively, though it's not as bright as it was in the early 2000s, when the entire coast from Land's End to the Lizard was lit up with either stationary or moving fires wherever there was a town or village. Early in the evening, children can be seen wearing flower wreaths—likely a custom stemming from the ancient practice of using these decorations while dancing around the fires. At the end of the fireworks in Penzance, a large group of men and women, mostly from the quay area, used to join hands, forming a long line, and run through the streets, playing ‘thread the needle,’ completely unconcerned about the fireworks raining down on them, often leaping over the still glowing embers. I've seen boys following each other, jumping through flames taller than they are.”

The Midsummer bonfires in Wales and the Isle of Man. A burning wheel rolled down the hill.

In Wales the midsummer fires were kindled on St. John's [pg 201] Eve and on St. John's Day. Three or nine different kinds of wood and charred faggots carefully preserved from the last midsummer were deemed necessary to build the bonfire, which was generally done on rising ground. Various herbs were thrown into the blaze; and girls with bunches of three or nine different kinds of flowers would take the hands of boys, who wore flowers in their buttonholes and hats, and together the young couples would leap over the fires. On the same two midsummer days roses and wreaths of flowers were hung over the doors and windows. “Describing a midsummer fire, an old inhabitant, born in 1809, remembered being taken to different hills in the Vale of Glamorgan to see festivities in which people from all parts of the district participated. She was at that time about fourteen, and old enough to retain a vivid recollection of the circumstances. People conveyed trusses of straw to the top of the hill, where men and youths waited for the contributions. Women and girls were stationed at the bottom of the hill. Then a large cart-wheel was thickly swathed with straw, and not an inch of wood was left in sight. A pole was inserted through the centre of the wheel, so that long ends extended about a yard on each side. If any straw remained, it was made up into torches at the top of tall sticks. At a given signal the wheel was lighted, and sent rolling downhill. If this fire-wheel went out before it reached the bottom of the hill, a very poor harvest was promised. If it kept lighted all the way down, and continued blazing for a long time, the harvest would be exceptionally abundant. Loud cheers and shouts accompanied the progress of the wheel.”512 At Darowen in Wales small bonfires were kindled on Midsummer Eve.513 On the same day people in the Isle of Man were wont to light fires to the windward of every field, so that the smoke might pass over the corn; and they folded their cattle and carried blazing furze or gorse round them several times.514

In Wales, the midsummer fires were lit on St. John's Eve and St. John's Day. It was believed that three or nine different types of wood, along with charred faggots saved from the previous midsummer, were essential for building the bonfire, usually set on elevated ground. Various herbs were tossed into the fire, and girls with bunches of three or nine different flowers would hold hands with boys who wore flowers in their buttonholes and hats, and together they would jump over the fires. On those two midsummer days, roses and flower wreaths were hung over doors and windows. An old resident born in 1809 remembered a midsummer fire and her experiences going to different hills in the Vale of Glamorgan to see festivities that brought people from all over the area together. She was around fourteen at the time and could clearly remember the events. People carried bundles of straw to the top of the hill, where men and young boys waited for the donations. Women and girls stayed at the bottom of the hill. Then, a large cartwheel was wrapped in straw, covering all the wood. A pole was placed through the center of the wheel, with long ends extending about a yard on each side. Any leftover straw was made into torches at the top of tall sticks. When the signal was given, the wheel was lit and rolled down the hill. If the fire-wheel went out before it reached the bottom, a poor harvest was expected. If it stayed lit all the way down and continued to burn for a long time, the harvest would be exceptionally abundant. The wheel's descent was met with loud cheers and shouts.512 In Darowen, Wales, small bonfires were lit on Midsummer Eve.513 On the same day, people in the Isle of Man would light fires on the windward side of every field, so the smoke would waft over the crops; they would also herd their cattle and carry blazing furze or gorse around them several times.514

The Midsummer fires in Ireland. People and cattle passing through the fires. Cattle are herded through the fire; ashes are used to fertilize the fields. The White Horse at the Midsummer fire.

A writer of the last quarter of the seventeenth century [pg 202] tells us that in Ireland, “on the Eves of St. John Baptist and St. Peter, they always have in every town a bonfire, late in the evenings, and carry about bundles of reeds fast tied and fired; these being dry, will last long, and flame better than a torch, and be a pleasing divertive prospect to the distant beholder; a stranger would go near to imagine the whole country was on fire.”515 Another writer says of the South of Ireland: “On Midsummer's Eve, every eminence, near which is a habitation, blazes with bonfires; and round these they carry numerous torches, shouting and dancing, which affords a beautiful sight.”516 An author who described Ireland in the first quarter of the eighteenth century says: “On the vigil of St. John the Baptist's Nativity, they make bonfires, and run along the streets and fields with wisps of straw blazing on long poles to purify the air, which they think infectious, by believing all the devils, spirits, ghosts, and hobgoblins fly abroad this night to hurt mankind.”517 Another writer states that he witnessed the festival in Ireland in 1782: “At the house where I was entertained, it was told me, that we should see, at midnight, the most singular sight in Ireland, which was the lighting of fires in honour of the sun. Accordingly, exactly at midnight, the fires began to appear; and taking the advantage of going up to the leads of the house, which had a widely extended view, I saw on a radius of thirty miles, all around, the fires burning on every eminence which the country afforded. I had a farther satisfaction in learning, from undoubted authority, that the people danced round the fires, and at the close went through these fires, and made their sons and daughters, together with their cattle, pass through the fire; and the whole was conducted with religious solemnity.”518 That the custom prevailed in full force as late as 1867 appears from a notice in a newspaper of that date, which runs thus: “The old pagan fire-worship still survives in Ireland, though nominally [pg 203] in honour of St. John. On Sunday night bonfires were observed throughout nearly every county in the province of Leinster. In Kilkenny, fires blazed on every hillside at intervals of about a mile. There were very many in the Queen's County, also in Kildare and Wexford. The effect in the rich sunset appeared to travellers very grand. The people assemble, and dance round the fires, the children jump through the flames, and in former times live coals were carried into the corn-fields to prevent blight.”519 In County Leitrim on St. John's Eve, which is called Bonfire Day, fires are still lighted after dusk on the hills and along the sides of the roads.520 All over Kerry the same thing continues to be done, though not so commonly as of old. Small fires were made across the road, and to drive through them brought luck for the year. Cattle were also driven through the fires. On Lettermore Island, in South Connemara, some of the ashes from the midsummer bonfire are thrown on the fields to fertilize them.521 One writer informs us that in Munster and Connaught a bone must always be burned in the fire; for otherwise the people believe that the fire will bring no luck. He adds that in many places sterile beasts and human beings are passed through the fire, and that as a boy he himself jumped through the fire “for luck.”522 An eye-witness has described as follows a remarkable ceremony observed in Ireland on Midsummer Eve: “When the fire burned for some hours, and got low, an indispensable part of the ceremony commenced. Every one present of the peasantry passed through it, and several children were thrown across the sparkling embers; while a wooden frame, of some eight feet long, with a horse's head fixed to one end, and a large white sheet thrown over it concealing the wood and the man on whose head it was carried, made its appearance. This was greeted with loud shouts of ‘The white horse!’ and having been safely carried by the skill of its [pg 204] bearer several times through the fire with a bold leap, it pursued the people, who ran screaming and laughing in every direction. I asked what the horse was meant for, and was told that it represented ‘all cattle.’ ”523

A writer from the last quarter of the seventeenth century [pg 202] tells us that in Ireland, "On the evenings of St. John the Baptist and St. Peter, towns always have a bonfire late at night and carry bundles of tightly tied reeds that are lit; since they’re dry, they burn longer and brighter than a torch, creating a beautiful sight for those watching from afar. A stranger might think the whole country was on fire."515 Another writer observes about the South of Ireland: "On Midsummer's Eve, every hill near a town is lit up with bonfires; and around these, people carry lots of torches, shouting and dancing, making a beautiful scene."516 An author who described Ireland in the first quarter of the eighteenth century says: “On the night before St. John the Baptist's birthday, they light bonfires and dash through the streets and fields with flaming bundles of straw on long poles to cleanse the air, which they think is harmful, believing that all devils, spirits, ghosts, and mischievous creatures come out on this night to harm people.”517 Another writer recounts witnessing the festival in Ireland in 1782: “At the house where I was staying, I was told that at midnight, we would witness the most unique sight in Ireland: lighting fires in honor of the sun. Exactly at midnight, the fires started to appear. I took the chance to go up to the roof of the house, which offered a wide view, and I saw fires burning on every hill within a thirty-mile radius. I was also pleased to learn from reliable sources that people danced around the fires, and in the end, they passed through these fires, making their sons, daughters, and livestock pass through the fire as well; all done with great seriousness.”518 The custom persisted in strong form as late as 1867, as noted in a newspaper from that time, which states: The ancient pagan fire-worship continues in Ireland, even though it's officially in honor of St. John. On Sunday night, bonfires were seen in nearly every county in the province of Leinster. In Kilkenny, fires lit up every hillside about a mile apart. There were many in Queen's County, as well as in Kildare and Wexford. The scene at sunset looked really impressive to travelers. People came together and danced around the fires, children jumped through the flames, and in the past, live coals were taken into the cornfields to protect against blight.519 In County Leitrim on St. John's Eve, known as Bonfire Day, fires are still lit after dark on the hills and along the roads.520 The same practice continues throughout Kerry, though less commonly than before. Small fires were made across roads, and driving through them was considered lucky for the year. Livestock was also driven through the fires. On Lettermore Island, in South Connemara, some ashes from the midsummer bonfire are scattered on the fields for fertilization.521 One writer mentions that in Munster and Connaught, a bone must always be burned in the fire; otherwise, people believe that the fire will not bring luck. He adds that in many places, barren animals and humans are passed through the fire, and as a boy, he jumped through the fire “for good luck.”522 An eyewitness described a remarkable ceremony observed in Ireland on Midsummer Eve as follows: As the fire burned for a few hours and started to fade, an important part of the ceremony began. Everyone in the crowd walked through the fire, and several children were tossed over the glowing embers. At the same time, a wooden frame about eight feet long appeared, featuring a horse's head at one end and a large white sheet covering it to conceal the wooden structure and the person carrying it. This was met with loud shouts of ‘The white horse!’ After being skillfully carried through the fire multiple times with a bold leap, it chased after the people, who ran, screaming and laughing in all directions. I asked what the horse meant, and I was told that it symbolized ‘all cattle.’523

Lady Wilde's description of the Midsummer fires in Ireland.

Lady Wilde's account of the midsummer festival in Ireland is picturesque and probably correct in substance, although she does not cite her authorities. As it contains some interesting features which are not noticed by the other writers on Ireland whom I have consulted, I will quote the greater part of it in full. “In ancient times,” she says, “the sacred fire was lighted with great ceremony on Midsummer Eve; and on that night all the people of the adjacent country kept fixed watch on the western promontory of Howth, and the moment the first flash was seen from that spot the fact of ignition was announced with wild cries and cheers repeated from village to village, when all the local fires began to blaze, and Ireland was circled by a cordon of flame rising up from every hill. Then the dance and song began round every fire, and the wild hurrahs filled the air with the most frantic revelry. Many of these ancient customs are still continued, and the fires are still lighted on St. John's Eve on every hill in Ireland. When the fire has burned down to a red glow the young men strip to the waist and leap over or through the flames; this is done backwards and forwards several times, and he who braves the greatest blaze is considered the victor over the powers of evil, and is greeted with tremendous applause. When the fire burns still lower, the young girls leap the flame, and those who leap clean over three times back and forward will be certain of a speedy marriage and good luck in after-life, with many children. The married women then walk through the lines of the burning embers; and when the fire is nearly burnt and trampled down, the yearling cattle are driven through the hot ashes, and their back is singed with a lighted hazel twig. These rods are kept safely afterwards, being considered of immense power to drive the cattle to and from the watering places. As the fire diminishes the shouting grows fainter, and the song and the dance commence; while professional [pg 205] story-tellers narrate tales of fairy-land, or of the good old times long ago, when the kings and princes of Ireland dwelt amongst their own people, and there was food to eat and wine to drink for all comers to the feast at the king's house. When the crowd at length separate, every one carries home a brand from the fire, and great virtue is attached to the lighted brone which is safely carried to the house without breaking or falling to the ground. Many contests also arise amongst the young men; for whoever enters his house first with the sacred fire brings the good luck of the year with him.”524

Lady Wilde's account of the midsummer festival in Ireland is vivid and likely accurate in content, even though she doesn’t provide her sources. Since it includes some intriguing elements that other writers about Ireland haven’t mentioned, I’ll quote most of it in full. "In the past," she says, The sacred fire was lit with great ceremony on Midsummer Eve, and that night, everyone from the surrounding area kept a close eye on the western promontory of Howth. The moment the first flash was seen from that location, the news of the fire being lit was announced with wild shouts and cheers that echoed from village to village, and then all the local fires started burning, creating a ring of flames around Ireland rising up from every hill. Then the dancing and singing began around every fire, filling the air with enthusiastic celebrations. Many of these ancient customs are still followed, and fires are still lit on St. John's Eve on every hill in Ireland. When the fire has burned down to a red glow, young men take off their shirts and jump over or through the flames; they do this back and forth several times, and the one who faces the biggest blaze is considered the champion over evil forces and is met with tremendous applause. When the fire burns even lower, young women leap over the flames, and those who jump completely over three times back and forth are promised a quick marriage and good fortune in life, along with many children. Married women then walk through the rows of burning embers, and as the fire is nearly out and trampled down, yearling cattle are driven through the hot ashes, and their backs are singed with a lit hazel twig. These twigs are kept safely afterward, as they are believed to have great power to guide the cattle to and from the watering spots. As the fire diminishes, the shouting fades, and the singing and dancing begin, while professional [pg 205] storytellers share tales of fairyland or the good old days when kings and princes of Ireland lived among their people, and there was plenty of food and wine for everyone at the king’s feast. When the crowd finally disperses, everyone takes home a piece of the fire, and great significance is placed on the lit brone, which is carefully brought home without breaking or falling to the ground. Numerous contests also arise among the young men, because whoever enters his house first with the sacred fire brings good luck for the year with him.524

People visit holy wells on Midsummer Eve in Ireland.

In Ireland, as elsewhere, water was also apparently thought to acquire a certain mystical virtue at midsummer. “At Stoole, near Downpatrick, there is a ceremony commencing at twelve o'clock at night on Midsummer Eve. Its sacred mount is consecrated to St. Patrick; the plain contains three wells, to which the most extraordinary virtues are attributed. Here and there are heaps of stones, around some of which appear great numbers of people, running with as much speed as possible; around others crowds of worshippers kneel with bare legs and feet as an indispensable part of the penance. The men, without coats, with handkerchiefs on their heads instead of hats, having gone seven times round each heap, kiss the ground, cross themselves, and proceed to the hill; here they ascend, on their bare knees, by a path so steep and rugged that it would be difficult to walk up. Many hold their hands clasped at the back of their necks, and several carry large stones on their heads. Having repeated this ceremony seven times, they go to what is called St. Patrick's Chair, which are two great flat stones fixed upright in the hill; here they cross and bless themselves as they step in between these stones, and, while repeating prayers, an old man, seated for the purpose, turns them round on their feet three times, for which he is paid; the devotee then goes to conclude his penance at a pile of stones, named the Altar. While this busy scene is continued by the multitude, the wells and streams issuing from them are thronged by crowds of halt, maimed, and blind, pressing [pg 206] to wash away their infirmities with water consecrated by their patron saint, and so powerful is the impression of its efficacy on their minds, that many of those who go to be healed, and who are not totally blind, or altogether crippled, really believe for a time that they are by means of its miraculous virtues perfectly restored.”525

In Ireland, like in other places, water was believed to have a special mystical quality during midsummer. At Stoole, near Downpatrick, there's a ceremony that kicks off at midnight on Midsummer Eve. The sacred hill is dedicated to St. Patrick, and the area has three wells believed to have extraordinary powers. Scattered around are piles of stones where large groups of people gather, rushing as fast as they can; at other piles, crowds of worshippers kneel with bare legs and feet as an important part of their penance. The men, without shirts and wearing handkerchiefs on their heads instead of hats, circle each pile seven times, kiss the ground, cross themselves, and head up the hill; they climb up on their bare knees along a path so steep and rough that it’s tough to walk. Many clasp their hands behind their necks, and some carry heavy stones on their heads. After repeating this ritual seven times, they go to what's called St. Patrick's Chair, which consists of two large flat stones set upright on the hill; here they cross and bless themselves as they step between these stones, and while reciting prayers, an old man, who sits there for this purpose, spins them around on their feet three times, for which he receives payment; then, the devotee finishes their penance at a stone pile known as the Altar. While this lively scene unfolds among the crowd, the nearby wells and streams are packed with people who are limping, injured, or blind, all trying to wash away their ailments with water blessed by their patron saint. The belief in its healing power is so strong that many who come for healing, and who aren't completely blind or entirely crippled, genuinely believe for a while that they are fully restored by its miraculous properties.525

The Midsummer fires in Scotland. Fires on St. Peter's Day (June 29th).

In Scotland the traces of midsummer fires are few. We are told by a writer of the eighteenth century that “the midsummer-even fire, a relict of Druidism,” was kindled in some parts of the county of Perth.526 Another writer of the same period, describing what he calls the Druidical festivals of the Highlanders, says that “the least considerable of them is that of midsummer. In the Highlands of Perthshire there are some vestiges of it. The cowherd goes three times round the fold, according to the course of the sun, with a burning torch in his hand. They imagined this rite had a tendency to purify their herds and flocks, and to prevent diseases. At their return the landlady makes an entertainment for the cowherd and his associates.”527 In the north-east of Scotland, down to the latter half of the eighteenth century, farmers used to go round their lands with burning torches about the middle of June.528 On the hill of Cairnshee, in the parish of Durris, Kincardineshire, the herdsmen of the country round about annually kindle a bonfire at sunset on Midsummer Day (the twenty-fourth of June); the men or lads collect the fuel and push each other through the smoke and flames. The custom is kept up through the benefaction of a certain Alexander Hogg, a native of the parish, who died about 1790 and left a small sum for the maintenance of a midsummer bonfire on the spot, because as [pg 207] a boy he had herded cattle on the hill. We may conjecture that in doing so he merely provided for the continuance of an old custom which he himself had observed in the same place in his youth.529 At the village of Tarbolton in Ayrshire a bonfire has been annually kindled from time immemorial on the evening of the first Monday after the eleventh of June. A noted cattle-market was formerly held at the fair on the following day. The bonfire is still lit at the gloaming by the lads and lasses of the village on a high mound or hillock just outside of the village. Fuel for it is collected by the lads from door to door. The youth dance round the fire and leap over the fringes of it. The many cattle-drovers who used to assemble for the fair were wont to gather round the blazing pile, smoke their pipes, and listen to the young folk singing in chorus on the hillock. Afterwards they wrapped themselves in their plaids and slept round the bonfire, which was intended to last all night.530 Thomas Moresin of Aberdeen, a writer of the sixteenth century, says that on St. Peter's Day, which is the twenty-ninth of June, the Scotch ran about at night with lighted torches on mountains and high grounds, “as Ceres did when she roamed the whole earth in search of Proserpine”;531 and towards the end of the eighteenth century the parish minister of Loudoun, a district of Ayrshire whose “bonny woods and braes” have been sung by Burns, wrote that “the custom still remains amongst the herds and young people to kindle fires in the high grounds in honour of Beltan. Beltan, which in Gaelic signifies Baal, or Bel's-fire, was antiently the time of this solemnity. It is now kept on St. Peter's day.”532

In Scotland, the remnants of midsummer fires are rare. An 18th-century writer tells us that "the midsummer bonfire, a remnant of Druidism," was lit in some areas of Perthshire.526 Another author from the same time describes what he calls the Druidical festivals of the Highlanders, noting that "The least important of them is midsummer. In the Highlands of Perthshire, there are some remnants of it. The cowherd walks three times around the fold, following the sun's path, while carrying a burning torch. They believed this ritual would purify their herds and flocks and protect them from diseases. When he returns, the landlady hosts a gathering for the cowherd and his friends."527 In the northeast of Scotland, until the latter half of the 18th century, farmers would walk around their land with burning torches around mid-June.528 On Cairnshee Hill in the parish of Durris, Kincardineshire, local herders light a bonfire at sunset on Midsummer Day (June 24th) each year; the men or boys gather the fuel and push each other through the smoke and flames. This tradition continues thanks to a certain Alexander Hogg, a local who died around 1790 and left a small amount of money for the upkeep of a midsummer bonfire on the hill because, as [pg 207] a boy, he had herded cattle there. We can assume that in doing this, he simply ensured the continuation of an old custom he had observed in his youth.529 In the village of Tarbolton in Ayrshire, a bonfire has been lit every year since time immemorial on the evening of the first Monday after June 11th. A well-known cattle market was previously held at the fair on the following day. The bonfire is still lit at dusk by the village's young people on a high mound just outside the village. The boys collect fuel from house to house. The youth dance around the fire and leap over its edges. The many cattle drovers who used to gather for the fair would often come together around the blazing fire, smoke their pipes, and listen to the young people singing in chorus on the hillock. Afterwards, they would wrap themselves in their plaids and sleep around the bonfire, which was meant to burn all night.530 Thomas Moresin of Aberdeen, a 16th-century writer, noted that on St. Peter's Day, which is June 29th, the Scots would run around at night with lit torches on mountains and high ground, "like Ceres did when she traveled all over the earth looking for Proserpine";531 and towards the end of the 18th century, the parish minister of Loudoun, a part of Ayrshire praised by Burns for its “pretty woods and hills,” wrote that The tradition continues among herders and young people to light fires on high ground to celebrate Beltan. Beltan, which means Baal or Bel's-fire in Gaelic, was originally the time for this celebration. It is now observed on St. Peter's Day.532

[pg 208]

The Midsummer fires in Spain and the Azores. Divination on Midsummer Eve in the Azores. The Midsummer fires in Corsica and Sardinia.

All over Spain great bonfires called lumes are still lit on Midsummer Eve. They are kept up all night, and the children leap over them in a certain rhythmical way which is said to resemble the ancient dances. On the coast, people at this season plunge into the sea; in the inland districts the villagers go and roll naked in the dew of the meadows, which is supposed to be a sovereign preservative against diseases of the skin. On this evening, too, girls who would pry into the future put a vessel of water on the sill outside their window; and when the clocks strike twelve, they break an egg in the water and see, or fancy they see, in the shapes assumed by the pulp, as it blends with the liquid, the likeness of future bridegrooms, castles, coffins, and so forth. But generally, as might perhaps have been anticipated, the obliging egg exhibits the features of a bridegroom.533 In the Azores, also, bonfires are lit on Midsummer Eve (St. John's Eve), and boys jump over them for luck. On that night St. John himself is supposed to appear in person and bless all the seas and waters, driving out the devils and demons who had been disporting themselves in them ever since the second day of November; that is why in the interval between the second of November and the twenty-third of June nobody will bathe in the sea or in a hot spring. On Midsummer Eve, too, you can always see the devil, if you will go into a garden at midnight. He is invariably found standing near a mustard-plant. His reason for adopting this posture has not been ascertained; perhaps in the chilly air of the upper world he is attracted by the genial warmth of the mustard. Various forms of divination are practised by people in the Azores on Midsummer Eve. Thus a new-laid egg is broken [pg 209] into a glass of water, and the shapes which it assumes foreshadow the fate of the person concerned. Again, seven saucers are placed in a row, filled respectively with water, earth, ashes, keys, a thimble, money, and grass, which things signify travel, death, widowhood, housekeeping, spinsterhood, riches, and farming. A blindfolded person touches one or other of the saucers with a wand and so discovers his or her fate. Again, three broad beans are taken; one is left in its skin, one is half peeled, and the third is peeled outright. The three denote respectively riches, competence, and poverty. They are hidden and searched for; and he who finds one of them knows accordingly whether he will be rich, moderately well-off, or poor. Again, girls take slips of paper and write the names of young men twice over on them. These they fold up and crumple and place one set under their pillows and the other set in a saucer full of water. In the morning they draw one slip of paper from under their pillow, and see whether one in the water has opened out. If the names on the two slips are the same, it is the name of her future husband. Young men do the same with girls' names. Once more, if a girl rises at sunrise, goes out into the street, and asks the first passer-by his Christian name, that will be her husband's name.534 Some of these modes of divination resemble those which are or used to be practised in Scotland at Hallowe'en.535 In Corsica on the Eve of St. John the people set fire to the trunk of a tree or to a whole tree, and the young men and maidens dance round the blaze, which is called fucaraia.536 We have seen that at Ozieri, in Sardinia, a great bonfire is kindled on St. John's Eve, and that the young people dance round it.537

All over Spain, huge bonfires called lumes are still lit on Midsummer Eve. They burn all night, and the children jump over them in a rhythmic way that’s said to resemble ancient dances. On the coast, people dive into the sea during this time; in the inland areas, villagers roll naked in the dew of the meadows, believed to be a powerful remedy against skin diseases. On this evening, girls wanting to know their future place a bowl of water on the windowsill; when the clock strikes twelve, they crack an egg into the water and see, or think they see, in the shapes the yolk makes as it mixes with the liquid, images of future husbands, castles, coffins, and so on. However, as might be expected, the accommodating egg usually shows the features of a bridegroom. 533 In the Azores, bonfires are also lit on Midsummer Eve (St. John's Eve), and boys jump over them for good luck. It is said that St. John himself appears that night to bless all seas and waters, driving away the devils and demons that have been frolicking in them since November 2nd; that’s why, between November 2nd and June 23rd, nobody swims in the sea or hot springs. On Midsummer Eve, you can also see the devil if you go into a garden at midnight. He is always found standing by a mustard plant. The reason for this stance isn’t known; perhaps he’s drawn to the warmth of the mustard in the chilly air of the upper world. Various forms of divination are practiced by people in the Azores on Midsummer Eve. For instance, a fresh egg is broken [pg 209] into a glass of water, and the shapes it takes predict the fate of the individual involved. Additionally, seven saucers are lined up, each filled with water, earth, ashes, keys, a thimble, money, and grass, representing travel, death, widowhood, housekeeping, spinsterhood, wealth, and farming. A blindfolded person touches one of the saucers with a wand to discover their fate. Furthermore, three broad beans are taken; one is kept in its skin, one is half-peeled, and the third one is completely peeled. These represent wealth, sufficiency, and poverty, respectively. They are hidden and searched for, and whoever finds one learns whether they’ll be rich, comfortably off, or poor. Likewise, girls write the names of young men on slips of paper, twice over. They fold and crumple these, placing one set under their pillows and the other in a bowl of water. In the morning, they pull one slip from under their pillow to see if one in the water has opened up. If the names match, it’s the name of her future husband. Young men do the same with girls' names. Additionally, if a girl wakes at sunrise, goes out into the street, and asks the first passerby their first name, that will be the name of her future husband. 534 Some of these methods of divination are similar to those practiced in Scotland during Hallowe'en. 535 In Corsica, on St. John's Eve, people set fire to a tree trunk or an entire tree, and young men and women dance around the fire, known as fucaraia. 536 We have seen that in Ozieri, Sardinia, a large bonfire is lit on St. John's Eve, and the young people dance around it. 537

The Midsummer fires in the Abruzzi. Swimming on Midsummer Eve in the Abruzzi. The Midsummer fires in Sicily. The witches at Midsummer.

Passing to Italy, we find that the midsummer fires are still lighted on St. John's Eve in many parts of the Abruzzi. They are commonest in the territory which was inhabited in antiquity by the Vestini; they are rarer in the land of the ancient Marsi, and they disappear entirely in the lower valley [pg 210] of the Sangro. For the most part, the fires are fed with straw and dry grass, and are kindled in the fields near the villages or on high ground. As they blaze up, the people dance round or over them. In leaping across the flames the boys cry out, “St. John, preserve my thighs and legs!” Formerly it used to be common to light the bonfires also in the towns in front of churches of St. John, and the remains of the sacred fire were carried home by the people; but this custom has mostly fallen into disuse. However, at Celano the practice is still kept up of taking brands and ashes from the bonfires to the houses, although the fires are no longer kindled in front of the churches, but merely in the streets.538 In the Abruzzi water also is supposed to acquire certain marvellous and beneficent properties on St. John's Night. Hence many people bathe or at least wash their faces and hands in the sea or a river at that season, especially at the moment of sunrise. Such a bath is said to be an excellent cure for diseases of the skin. At Castiglione a Casauria the people, after washing in the river or in springs, gird their waists and wreath their brows with sprigs of briony in order to keep them from aches and pains.539 In various parts of Sicily, also, fires are kindled on Midsummer Eve (St. John's Eve), the twenty-third of June. On the Madonie mountains, in the north of the island, the herdsmen kindle them at intervals, so that the crests of the mountains are seen ablaze in the darkness for many miles. About Acireale, on the east coast of the island, the bonfires are lit by boys, who jump over them. At Chiaromonte the witches that night acquire extraordinary powers; hence everybody then puts a broom outside of his house, because a broom is an excellent protective against witchcraft.540 At Orvieto the midsummer fires were specially excepted from the prohibition directed against bonfires in general.541

Passing to Italy, we see that midsummer fires are still lit on St. John's Eve in many areas of the Abruzzi. They are most common in the territory once inhabited by the Vestini; they are rarer in the land of the ancient Marsi, and they completely disappear in the lower valley [pg 210] of the Sangro. Generally, the fires are fed with straw and dry grass and are started in the fields near the villages or on elevated ground. As they blaze, people dance around or over them. While leaping across the flames, the boys shout, "St. John, protect my thighs and legs!" In the past, it was common to light bonfires in towns in front of St. John's churches, and people would take the remains of the sacred fire home; however, this custom has mostly faded away. Nevertheless, in Celano, people still take brands and ashes from the bonfires to their homes, although the fires are no longer lit in front of the churches, but rather in the streets.538 In the Abruzzi, water is also believed to gain certain magical and healing properties on St. John's Night. As a result, many people bathe or at least wash their faces and hands in the sea or a river at this time, especially at sunrise. This bath is said to be a great remedy for skin diseases. In Castiglione a Casauria, after cleansing in the river or springs, locals wrap their waists and adorn their heads with briony sprigs to prevent aches and pains.539 In various parts of Sicily, fires are also lit on Midsummer Eve (St. John's Eve), June 23rd. On the Madonie mountains in the northern part of the island, herdsmen light them at intervals, making the mountain peaks visible in flames for many miles. Around Acireale on the east coast, boys ignite the bonfires and jump over them. In Chiaromonte, witches are believed to gain extraordinary powers that night; thus, everyone puts a broom outside their house because a broom is a great protection against witchcraft.540 In Orvieto, midsummer fires were specifically exempted from the general ban on bonfires.541

The Midsummer fires in Malta.

In Malta also the people celebrate Midsummer Eve [pg 211] (St. John's Eve) “by kindling great fires in the public streets, and giving their children dolls to carry in their arms on this day, in order to make good the prophecy respecting the Baptist, Multi in nativitate ejus gaudebunt. Days and even weeks before this festival, groups of children are seen going out into the country fields to gather straw, twigs, and all sorts of other combustibles, which they store up for St. John's Eve. On the night of the twenty-third of June, the day before the festival of the Saint, great fires are kindled in the streets, squares, and market places of the towns and villages of the Island, and as fire after fire blazes out of the darkness of that summer night, the effect is singularly striking. These fires are sometimes kept up for hours, being continually fed by the scores of bystanders, who take great delight in throwing amidst the flames some old rickety piece of furniture which they consider as lumber in their houses. Lots of happy and reckless children, and very often men, are seen merrily leaping in succession over and through the crackling flames. At the time of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, the Grand Master himself, soon after the Angelus, used to leave his palace, accompanied by the Grand Prior, the Bishop, and two bailiffs, to set fire to some pitch barrels which were placed for the occasion in the square facing the sacred Hospital. Great crowds used to assemble here in order to assist at this ceremony. The setting ablaze of the five casks, and later on of the eight casks, by the Grand Master, was a signal for the others to kindle their fires in the different parts of the town.”542

In Malta, people celebrate Midsummer Eve (St. John's Eve) by lighting huge fires in the public streets and giving their children dolls to carry in their arms on this day to fulfill the prophecy about the Baptist, “Multi in nativitate ejus gaudebunt.” Days and even weeks before this festival, groups of children are spotted going out into the countryside to collect straw, twigs, and various other things to burn, which they save for St. John's Eve. On the night of June 23rd, the day before the Saint's festival, big fires are lit in the streets, squares, and markets of towns and villages throughout the Island. As fire after fire lights up the darkness of that summer night, the sight is quite striking. These fires can burn for hours, as onlookers eagerly toss old, worn-out furniture into the flames, which they consider junk in their homes. Lots of happy and carefree children, and often men, can be seen joyfully jumping over and through the crackling flames. During the time of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, the Grand Master himself, shortly after the Angelus, would leave his palace with the Grand Prior, the Bishop, and two bailiffs to set fire to pitch barrels placed for the occasion in the square in front of the sacred Hospital. Large crowds would gather to witness this ceremony. The lighting of the five casks, and later the eight casks, by the Grand Master signaled others to light their fires in different parts of town.

The Midsummer fires in Greece. The Midsummer fires in Macedonia and Albania.

In Greece, the custom of kindling fires on St. John's Eve and jumping over them is said to be still universal. One reason assigned for it is a wish to escape from the fleas.543 According to another account, the women cry out, as they leap over the fire, “I leave my sins behind me.”544 In Lesbos the fires on St. John's Eve are usually lighted by threes, and [pg 212] the people spring thrice over them, each with a stone on his head, saying, “I jump the hare's fire, my head a stone!” On the morning of St. John's Day those who dwell near the coast go to bathe in the sea. As they go they gird themselves with osiers, and when they are in the water they let the osiers float away, saying, “Let my maladies go away!” Then they look for what is called “the hairy stone,” which possesses the remarkable property not only of keeping moths from clothes but even of multiplying the clothes in the chest where it is laid up, and the more hairs on the stone the more will the clothes multiply in the chest.545 In Calymnos the midsummer fire is supposed to ensure abundance in the coming year as well as deliverance from fleas. The people dance round the fires singing, with stones on their heads, and then jump over the blaze or the glowing embers. When the fire is burning low, they throw the stones into it; and when it is nearly out, they make crosses on their legs and then go straightway and bathe in the sea.546 In Cos the lads and lasses dance round the bonfires on St. John's Eve. Each of the lads binds a black stone on his head, signifying that he wishes to become as strong as the stone. Also they make the sign of the cross on their feet and legs and jump over the fire.547 On Midsummer Eve the Greeks of Macedonia light fires after supper in front of their gates. The garlands, now faded, which were hung over the doors on May Day, are taken down and cast into the flames, after which the young folk leap over the blaze, fully persuaded that St. John's fire will not burn them.548 In Albania fires of dry herbage are, or used to be, lit everywhere on St. John's Eve; young and old leap over them, for such a leap is thought to be good for the health.549

In Greece, the tradition of lighting fires on St. John's Eve and jumping over them is said to be widespread. One reason often given for this is the desire to escape from fleas.543 Another explanation is that women shout as they leap over the fire, "I put my sins behind me."544 In Lesbos, the fires on St. John's Eve are usually lit in groups of three, and [pg 212] people jump over them three times, each with a stone on their head, saying, "I jump over the hare's fire, my head like a stone!" On the morning of St. John's Day, those living near the coast go for a swim in the sea. As they make their way, they wrap themselves in willow branches, and when they enter the water, they let the branches float away, saying, “Let my problems drift away!” Then they search for what is known as “the hairy rock,” which is believed to not only prevent moths from ruining clothes but also to multiply the garments stored where it is kept; the more hairs the stone has, the more clothes will increase in the chest.545 In Calymnos, the midsummer fire is thought to ensure plenty in the coming year and also to ward off fleas. People dance around the fires singing with stones on their heads, then jump over the flames or glowing embers. When the fire burns low, they throw the stones into it, and when it's almost out, they make crosses on their legs and immediately go for a swim in the sea.546 In Cos, young men and women dance around the bonfires on St. John's Eve. Each young man ties a black stone to his head, symbolizing his wish to be as strong as the stone. They also make the sign of the cross on their feet and legs before jumping over the fire.547 On Midsummer Eve, Greeks in Macedonia light fires in front of their gates after dinner. The garlands that were hung over the doors on May Day, now wilted, are taken down and thrown into the flames, after which the youth jump over the blaze, fully believing that St. John's fire will not burn them.548 In Albania, fires made of dry grass are lit everywhere on St. John's Eve, and both young and old jump over them, as this leap is thought to be beneficial for health.549

The Midsummer bonfires in America.

From the Old World the midsummer fires have been [pg 213] carried across the Atlantic to America. In Brazil people jump over the fires of St. John, and at this season they can take hot coals in their mouths without burning themselves.550 In Bolivia on the Eve of St. John it is usual to see bonfires lighted on the hills and even in the streets of the capital La Paz. As the city stands at the bottom of an immense ravine, and the Indians of the neighbourhood take a pride in kindling bonfires on heights which might seem inaccessible, the scene is very striking when the darkness of night is suddenly and simultaneously lit up by hundreds of fires, which cast a glare on surrounding objects, producing an effect at once weird and picturesque.551

From the Old World, the midsummer fires have been [pg 213] brought across the Atlantic to America. In Brazil, people jump over the St. John fires, and during this time they can hold hot coals in their mouths without getting burned.550 In Bolivia, on the Eve of St. John, it's common to see bonfires lit on the hills and even in the streets of the capital, La Paz. Since the city is located at the bottom of a huge ravine, and the local Indigenous people take pride in lighting bonfires on heights that seem unreachable, the scene is quite striking when the night is suddenly and simultaneously illuminated by hundreds of fires, casting light on the surroundings and creating an effect that is both eerie and beautiful.551

The Midsummer fires among the Muslims of Morocco and Algeria.

The custom of kindling bonfires on Midsummer Day or on Midsummer Eve is widely spread among the Mohammedan peoples of North Africa, particularly in Morocco and Algeria; it is common both to the Berbers and to many of the Arabs or Arabic-speaking tribes. In these countries Midsummer Day (the twenty-fourth of June, Old Style) is called l'ánṣăra. The fires are lit in the courtyards, at cross-roads, in the fields, and sometimes on the threshing-floors. Plants which in burning give out a thick smoke and an aromatic smell are much sought after for fuel on these occasions; among the plants used for the purpose are giant-fennel, thyme, rue, chervil-seed, camomile, geranium, and penny-royal. People expose themselves, and especially their children, to the smoke, and drive it towards the orchards and the crops. Also they leap across the fires; in some places everybody ought to repeat the leap seven times. Moreover they take burning brands from the fires and carry them through the houses in order to fumigate them. They pass things through the fire, and bring the sick into contact with it, while they utter prayers for their recovery. The ashes of the bonfires are also reputed to possess beneficial properties; hence in some places people rub their hair or their bodies with them.552 For example, the Andjra [pg 214] mountaineers of Morocco kindle large fires in open places of their villages on Midsummer Day. Men, women, and children jump over the flames or the glowing embers, believing that by so doing they rid themselves of all misfortune which may be clinging to them; they imagine, also, that such leaps cure the sick and procure offspring for childless couples. Moreover, they burn straw, together with some marjoram and alum, in the fold where the cattle, sheep, and goats are penned for the night; the smoke, in their opinion, will make the animals thrive. On Midsummer Day the Arabs of the Mnasara tribe make fires outside their tents, near their animals, on their fields, and in their gardens. Large quantities of penny-royal are burned in these fires, and over some of them the people leap thrice to and fro. Sometimes small fires are also kindled inside the tents. They say that the smoke confers blessings on everything with which it comes into contact. At Salee, on the Atlantic coast of Morocco, persons who suffer from diseased eyes rub them with the ashes of the midsummer fire; and in Casablanca and Azemmur the people hold their faces over the fire, because the smoke is thought to be good for the eyes. The Arab tribe Ulad Bu Aziz, in the Dukkala province of Morocco, kindle midsummer bonfires, not for themselves and their cattle, but only for crops and fruit; nobody likes to reap his crops before Midsummer Day, because if he did they would lose the benefit of the blessed influence which flows from the smoke of the bonfires. [pg 215] Again, the Beni Mgild, a Berber tribe of Morocco, light fires of straw on Midsummer Eve and leap thrice over them to and fro. They let some of the smoke pass underneath their clothes, and married women hold their breasts over the fire, in order that their children may be strong. Moreover, they paint their eyes and lips with some black powder, in which ashes of the bonfire are mixed. And in order that their horses may also benefit by the fires, they dip the right forelegs of the animals in the smoke and flames or in the hot embers, and they rub ashes on the foreheads and between the nostrils of the horses. Berbers of the Rif province, in northern Morocco, similarly make great use of fires at midsummer for the good of themselves, their cattle, and their fruit-trees. They jump over the bonfires in the belief that this will preserve them in good health, and they light fires under fruit-trees to keep the fruit from falling untimely. And they imagine that by rubbing a paste of the ashes on their hair they prevent the hair from falling off their heads.553

The tradition of lighting bonfires on Midsummer Day or Midsummer Eve is widely practiced among Muslim communities in North Africa, especially in Morocco and Algeria; it is common among both the Berbers and many Arabic-speaking tribes. In these regions, Midsummer Day (June 24, Old Style) is known as l'ánṣăra. The bonfires are set up in courtyards, at crossroads, in fields, and sometimes on threshing floors. Plants that produce thick smoke and a pleasant aroma when burned are highly desired for fuel during these celebrations; commonly used plants include giant fennel, thyme, rue, chervil seed, chamomile, geranium, and pennyroyal. People expose themselves, especially their children, to the smoke, directing it towards orchards and crops. They also jump over the fires; in some places, it's a tradition for everyone to leap over them seven times. Additionally, they take burning sticks from the fires and carry them through their homes to cleanse them with smoke. They pass items through the fire and bring sick individuals close to it while offering prayers for their healing. The ashes from the bonfires are believed to have beneficial properties, leading some to rub them on their hair or bodies.552 For instance, the Andjra [pg 214] mountain people of Morocco light large fires in open areas in their villages on Midsummer Day. Men, women, and children jump over the flames or hot embers, convinced that this action helps them shed all misfortunes. They also believe these leaps can heal the sick and help childless couples conceive. They burn straw mixed with marjoram and alum in the pens where their cattle, sheep, and goats are kept overnight; they believe the smoke will help the animals thrive. On Midsummer Day, the Arabs of the Mnasara tribe light fires outside their tents, near their animals, in their fields, and in their gardens. They burn large amounts of pennyroyal in these fires, and some people jump back and forth over the flames three times. Occasionally, small fires are also lit inside the tents. They believe the smoke brings blessings to anything it touches. In Salee, on the Atlantic coast of Morocco, people with eye ailments rub their eyes with the ashes from the midsummer fire; in Casablanca and Azemmur, others hold their faces over the fire since the smoke is thought to be beneficial for the eyes. The Ulad Bu Aziz tribe, in the Dukkala province of Morocco, lights midsummer bonfires not just for themselves and their animals but specifically for their crops and fruits; no one likes to harvest before Midsummer Day, as doing so would mean missing out on the blessed effects of the bonfire smoke. [pg 215] Similarly, the Beni Mgild, a Berber tribe in Morocco, light straw fires on Midsummer Eve and jump back and forth over them three times. They let some of the smoke pass under their clothing, and married women hold their breasts over the fire for the strength of their children. They also apply a black powder containing bonfire ashes to their eyes and lips. To ensure their horses benefit from the fires, they dip the right forelegs of the animals into the smoke and flames or hot embers, rubbing ashes on the foreheads and between the nostrils of the horses. Berbers in the Rif province of northern Morocco similarly use fires during midsummer for the well-being of themselves, their livestock, and their fruit trees. They jump over the bonfires, believing this will help them stay healthy, and light fires under fruit trees to prevent premature fruit drop. They also think that by applying a paste of the ashes to their hair, they can prevent hair loss.553

The smoke from the fires is believed to have a positive effect. It's thought that bad luck is burned away in the Midsummer fires.

In all these Moroccan customs, we are told, the beneficial effect is attributed wholly to the smoke, which is supposed to be endued with a magical quality that removes misfortune from men, animals, fruit-trees, and crops. But in some parts of Morocco people at midsummer kindle fires of a different sort, not for the sake of fumigation, but in order to burn up misfortune in the flames. Thus on Midsummer Eve the Berber tribe of the Beni Mgild burn three sheaves of unthreshed wheat or barley, “one for the children, one for the crops, and one for the animals.” On the same occasion they burn the tent of a widow who has never given birth to a child; by so doing they think to rid the village of ill luck. It is said that at midsummer the Zemmur burn a tent, which belongs to somebody who was killed in war during a feast; or if there is no such person in the village, the schoolmaster's tent is burned instead. Among the Arabic-speaking Beni Ahsen it is customary for those who live near the river Sbu to make a little hut of straw at midsummer, set it on fire, [pg 216] and let it float down the river. Similarly the inhabitants of Salee burn a straw hut on the river which flows past their town.554

In all these Moroccan customs, it’s said that the positive effects come entirely from the smoke, believed to have a magical quality that wards off misfortune for people, animals, fruit trees, and crops. However, in some parts of Morocco, people light different types of fires at midsummer, not for fumigation but to burn away misfortune in the flames. For example, on Midsummer Eve, the Berber tribe of the Beni Mgild burns three sheaves of unthreshed wheat or barley, "one for the kids, one for the crops, and one for the animals." On the same occasion, they also burn the tent of a widow who has never had children, believing this will eliminate bad luck from the village. It's said that at midsummer, the Zemmur burn a tent belonging to someone who was killed in battle during a feast; if there’s no such person in the village, they burn the schoolmaster's tent instead. Among the Arabic-speaking Beni Ahsen, it's a tradition for those living near the Sbu River to build a small straw hut at midsummer, set it on fire, [pg 216] and let it float down the river. Similarly, the people of Salee burn a straw hut on the river that flows past their town. 554

The Midsummer festival in North Africa includes rituals related to both water and fire.

Further it deserves to be noticed that in Northern Africa, as in Southern Europe, the midsummer festival comprises rites concerned with water as well as with fire. For example, among the Beni-Snous the women light a fire in an oven, throw perfumes into it, and circumambulate a tank, which they also incense after a fashion. In many places on the coast, as in the province of Oran and particularly in the north of Morocco, everybody goes and bathes in the sea at midsummer; and in many towns of the interior, such as Fez, Mequinez, and especially Merrakech, people throw water over each other on this day; and where water is scarce, earth is used instead, according to the Mohammedan principle which permits ablutions to be performed with earth or sand when water cannot be spared for the purpose.555 People of the Andjra district in Morocco not only bathe themselves in the sea or in rivers at midsummer, they also bathe their animals, their horses, mules, donkeys, cattle, sheep, and goats; for they think that on that day water possesses a blessed virtue (baraka), which removes sickness and misfortune. In Aglu, again, men, women, and children bathe in the sea or springs or rivers at midsummer, alleging that by so doing they protect themselves against disease for the whole year. Among the Berbers of the Rif district the custom of bathing on this day is commonly observed, and animals share the ablutions.556

Furthermore, it's worth noting that in North Africa, just like in Southern Europe, the midsummer festival includes rituals related to both water and fire. For instance, among the Beni-Snous, women light a fire in an oven, throw perfumes into it, and walk around a tank, which they also incense in a certain way. In many coastal areas, such as the Oran province and especially in northern Morocco, everyone goes to swim in the sea during midsummer; and in several inland towns like Fez, Mequinez, and especially Marrakech, people splash water on each other on this day. Where water is scarce, they use earth instead, following the Islamic practice that allows for ablutions with earth or sand when water is not available. People in the Andjra district of Morocco not only bathe themselves in the sea or rivers at midsummer, but they also wash their animals, including horses, mules, donkeys, cattle, sheep, and goats, because they believe that on this day, water has a sacred quality (baraka) that can cure illness and misfortune. Similarly, in Aglu, men, women, and children bathe in the sea, springs, or rivers at midsummer, claiming that this practice protects them from disease for the entire year. Among the Berbers of the Rif region, the tradition of bathing on this day is widely followed, and animals also partake in the cleansing rituals.

The Midsummer festival in North Africa is likely older than Islam. Some Muslims in North Africa light fires and hold water rituals during their movable New Year. Water rituals at New Year take place in Morocco.

The celebration of a midsummer festival by Mohammedan peoples is particularly remarkable, because the Mohammedan calendar, being purely lunar and uncorrected by intercalation, necessarily takes no note of festivals which occupy fixed points in the solar year; all strictly Mohammedan feasts, being pinned to the moon, slide [pg 217] gradually with that luminary through the whole period of the earth's revolution about the sun. This fact of itself seems to prove that among the Mohammedan peoples of Northern Africa, as among the Christian peoples of Europe, the midsummer festival is quite independent of the religion which the people publicly profess, and is a relic of a far older paganism. There are, indeed, independent grounds for thinking that the Arabs enjoyed the advantage of a comparatively well-regulated solar year before the prophet of God saddled them with the absurdity and inconvenience of a purely lunar calendar.557 Be that as it may, it is notable that some Mohammedan people of North Africa kindle fires and bathe in water at the movable New Year of their lunar calendar instead of at the fixed Midsummer of the solar year; while others again practise these observances at both seasons. New Year's Day, on which the rites are celebrated, is called Ashur; it is the tenth day of Moharram, the first month of the Mohammedan calendar. On that day bonfires are kindled in Tunis and also at Merrakech and among some tribes of the neighbourhood.558 At Demnat, in the Great Atlas mountains, people kindle a large bonfire on New Year's Eve and leap to and fro over the flames, uttering words which imply that by these leaps they think to purify themselves from all kinds of evil. At Aglu, in the province of Sus, the fire is lighted at three different points by an unmarried girl, and when it has died down the young men leap over the glowing embers, saying, “We shook on you, O Lady Ashur, fleas, and lice, and the illnesses of the heart, as also those of the bones; we shall pass through you again next year and the following years with safety and health.” Both at Aglu and Glawi, in the Great Atlas, smaller fires are also kindled, over which the animals [pg 218] are driven. At Demnat girls who wish to marry wash themselves in water which has been boiled over the New Year fire; and in Dukkala people use the ashes of that fire to rub sore eyes with. New Year fires appear to be commonly kindled among the Berbers who inhabit the western portion of the Great Atlas, and also among the Arabic-speaking tribes of the plains; but Dr. Westermarck found no traces of such fires among the Arabic-speaking mountaineers of Northern Morocco and the Berbers of the Rif province. Further, it should be observed that water ceremonies like those which are practised at Midsummer are very commonly observed in Morocco at the New Year, that is, on the tenth day of the first month. On the morning of that day (Ashur) all water or, according to some people, only spring water is endowed with a magical virtue (baraka), especially before sunrise. Hence at that time the people bathe and pour water over each other; in some places they also sprinkle their animals, tents, or rooms. In Dukkala some of the New Year water is preserved at home till New Year's Day (Ashur) of next year; some of it is kept to be used as medicine, some of it is poured on the place where the corn is threshed, and some is used to water the money which is to be buried in the ground; for the people think that the earth-spirits will not be able to steal the buried treasures which have thus been sanctified with the holy water.559

The celebration of a midsummer festival by Muslims is particularly noteworthy because the Islamic calendar is purely lunar and not adjusted with intercalation, meaning it doesn’t recognize festivals that have fixed dates in the solar year. All strictly Islamic celebrations, tied to the moon, gradually shift with its phases throughout the entire year as the Earth revolves around the sun. This fact seems to suggest that, among the Muslim communities of North Africa, just like among the Christian communities of Europe, the midsummer festival stands apart from the religious beliefs that people openly practice and is a remnant of much older pagan traditions. There are also reasons to believe that the Arabs had a relatively well-structured solar calendar before the prophet imposed the cumbersome and impractical lunar calendar. Regardless, it’s interesting that some Muslim communities in North Africa light fires and bathe during the movable New Year of their lunar calendar instead of at the fixed Midsummer of the solar year; others observe these traditions at both times. New Year’s Day, when these rites take place, is called Ashur; it falls on the tenth day of Moharram, the first month of the Islamic calendar. On this day, bonfires are lit in Tunis, Merrakech, and among some neighboring tribes. In Demnat, located in the Great Atlas mountains, people light a large bonfire on New Year’s Eve and jump over the flames, believing these leaps will purify them from all kinds of evil. In Aglu, a town in the province of Sus, an unmarried girl lights the fire at three different locations, and once it has died down, young men jump over the hot embers, proclaiming, "We got rid of you, Lady Ashur, along with fleas, lice, and ailments of the heart and bones; we will come back to you next year and in the years to come with safety and health." In both Aglu and Glawi, also in the Great Atlas, smaller fires are lit over which animals are driven. In Demnat, girls hoping to marry wash themselves with water that has been boiled over the New Year fire, and in Dukkala, people use the ashes from that fire to treat sore eyes. New Year fires seem to be commonly celebrated among the Berbers living in the western part of the Great Atlas and also among the Arabic-speaking tribes on the plains; however, Dr. Westermarck found no evidence of such fires among the Arabic-speaking mountain dwellers of Northern Morocco and the Berbers of the Rif province. Additionally, it’s worth noting that water ceremonies similar to those celebrated at Midsummer are frequently observed in Morocco on New Year’s Day, which is the tenth day of the first month. On that morning (Ashur), all water, or according to some, only spring water, is considered to have magical properties (baraka), especially before sunrise. Consequently, during this time, people bathe and pour water over one another; in some areas, they also sprinkle water on their animals, tents, or homes. In Dukkala, some of the New Year water is saved at home until the next year’s New Year’s Day (Ashur); some is reserved for medicinal purposes, some is poured in areas where corn is threshed, and some is used to water the money to be buried underground, as people believe that the earth spirits won’t be able to steal the buried treasures that have been blessed with the holy water.

The fire and water rituals at Midsummer and New Year in Morocco appear to be very similar. This repetition of the festival likely stems from a clash between the Romans' solar calendar and the Arabs' lunar calendar. The Midsummer celebration in Morocco seems to have Berber roots.

Thus the rites of fire and water which are observed in Morocco at Midsummer and New Year appear to be identical in character and intention, and it seems certain that the duplication of the rites is due to a conflict between two calendars, namely the old Julian calendar of the Romans, which was based on the sun, and the newer Mohammedan calendar of the Arabs, which is based on the moon. For not only was the Julian calendar in use throughout the whole of Northern Africa under the Roman Empire; to this day it is everywhere employed among Mohammedans for the regulation of agriculture and all the affairs of daily life; its practical convenience has made it indispensable, [pg 219] and the lunar calendar of orthodox Mohammedanism is scarcely used except for purposes of chronology. Even the old Latin names of the months are known and employed, in slightly disguised forms, throughout the whole Moslem world; and little calendars of the Julian year circulate in manuscript among Mohammedans, permitting them to combine the practical advantages of pagan science with a nominal adherence to orthodox absurdity.560 Thus the heathen origin of the midsummer festival is too palpable to escape the attention of good Mohammedans, who accordingly frown upon the midsummer bonfires as pagan superstitions, precisely as similar observances in Europe have often been denounced by orthodox Christianity. Indeed, many religious people in Morocco entirely disapprove of the whole of the midsummer ceremonies, maintaining that they are all bad; and a conscientious schoolmaster will even refuse his pupils a holiday at midsummer, though the boys sometimes offer him a bribe if he will sacrifice his scruples to his avarice.561 As the midsummer customs appear to flourish among all the Berbers of Morocco but to be unknown among the pure Arabs who have not been affected by Berber influence, it seems reasonable to infer with Dr. Westermarck that the midsummer festival has belonged from time immemorial to the Berber race, and that so far as it is now observed by the Arabs of Morocco, it has been learned by them from the Berbers, the old indigenous inhabitants of the country. Dr. Westermarck may also be right in holding that, in spite of the close similarity which obtains between the midsummer festival of Europe and the midsummer festival of North Africa, the latter is not a copy of the former, but that both have been handed down independently from a time beyond the purview of history, when such ceremonies were common to the Mediterranean race.562

Thus the rituals of fire and water that are practiced in Morocco at Midsummer and New Year seem to be the same in nature and purpose, and it appears clear that these overlapping rites stem from a clash between two calendars: the old Julian calendar of the Romans, which was solar-based, and the newer Islamic calendar of the Arabs, which is lunar-based. Not only was the Julian calendar used throughout Northern Africa during the Roman Empire, but it still plays a crucial role among Muslims today for regulating agriculture and daily life; its practicality has made it essential, [pg 219] while the lunar calendar in orthodox Islam is hardly utilized except for chronological purposes. Even the old Latin names for the months are recognized and used, in slightly altered forms, across the entire Muslim world; small manuscripts of the Julian year circulate among Muslims, allowing them to blend the practical benefits of ancient science with a nominal commitment to traditional beliefs.560 The pagan roots of the midsummer festival are too obvious for devout Muslims to ignore, and as a result, they look down upon the midsummer bonfires as pagan superstitions, much like how similar practices in Europe have often been condemned by orthodox Christianity. In fact, many religious individuals in Morocco completely reject the midsummer celebrations, arguing that they are entirely negative; a dedicated schoolmaster may even deny his students a holiday on midsummer, though the boys sometimes offer him a bribe to put his principles aside for profit.561 Since the midsummer traditions seem to thrive among all the Berbers of Morocco but are absent among pure Arabs who haven’t been influenced by Berbers, it seems fair to conclude, as Dr. Westermarck suggests, that the midsummer festival has historically belonged to the Berber people, and that as far as it is now practiced by Arabs in Morocco, they have learned it from the Berbers, the original inhabitants of the land. Dr. Westermarck might also be correct in asserting that, despite the strong similarities between the midsummer festival in Europe and that in North Africa, the latter isn’t a copy of the former; rather, both have been passed down independently from a time long before recorded history when such rituals were common among the Mediterranean people.562

[pg 220]

Autumn Fires.

Fire festivals in August. The Russian celebration of Florus and Laurus on August 18th. “Living fire” created by the friction of wood.

In the months which elapse between midsummer and the setting in of winter the European festivals of fire appear to be few and unimportant. On the evening of the first day of August, which is the Festival of the Cross, bonfires are commonly lit in Macedonia and boys jump over them, shouting, “Dig up! bury!” but whom or what they wish to dig up or bury they do not know.563 The Russians hold the feast of two martyrs, Florus and Laurus, on the eighteenth day of August, Old Style. “On this day the Russians lead their horses round the church of their village, beside which on the foregoing evening they dig a hole with two mouths. Each horse has a bridle made of the bark of the linden-tree. The horses go through this hole one after the other, opposite to one of the mouths of which the priest stands with a sprinkler in his hand, with which he sprinkles them. As soon as the horses have passed by their bridles are taken off, and they are made to go between two fires that they kindle, called by the Russians Givoy Agon, that is to say, living fires, of which I shall give an account. I shall before remark, that the Russian peasantry throw the bridles of their horses into one of these fires to be consumed. This is the manner of their lighting these givoy agon, or living fires. Some men hold the ends of a stick made of the plane-tree, very dry, and about a fathom long. This stick they hold firmly over one of birch, perfectly dry, and rub with violence and quickly against the former; the birch, which is somewhat softer than the plane, in a short time inflames, and serves them to light both the fires I have described.”564

In the months between midsummer and the onset of winter, European fire festivals seem limited and insignificant. On the evening of August 1st, which is the Festival of the Cross, bonfires are typically lit in Macedonia, and boys jump over them, shouting, "Dig up! Bury!" However, they don’t actually know what they want to dig up or bury.563 In Russia, they celebrate the feast of two martyrs, Florus and Laurus, on August 18th, Old Style. “On this day, the Russians lead their horses around the village church, beside which they dug a hole with two openings the night before. Each horse wears a bridle made from linden tree bark. The horses pass through this hole one at a time, with the priest standing at one of the openings holding a sprinkler to bless them as they go by. After the horses pass, their bridles are removed, and they walk between two bonfires that they light, known in Russian as Givoy Agon, meaning living fires, which I will describe later. It's important to note that the Russian peasants throw their horses' bridles into one of these fires to be burned. This is how they ignite these givoy agon, or living fires. Some men hold the ends of a dry stick made from the plane tree, about a meter long. They vigorously rub this stick against a dry birch stick, which is a bit softer than the plane. Soon enough, the birch ignites, allowing them to light the fires I mentioned.”564

Feast of the Birth of the Virgin on September 8th in Capri and Naples.

The Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin on the eighth day of September is celebrated at Naples and Capri with fireworks, bonfires, and assassinations. On this subject my [pg 221] friend Professor A. E. Housman, who witnessed the celebration in different years at both places, has kindly furnished me with the following particulars: “In 1906 I was in the island of Capri on September the eighth, the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin. The anniversary was duly solemnised by fire-works at nine or ten in the evening, which I suppose were municipal; but just after sundown the boys outside the villages were making small fires of brushwood on waste bits of ground by the wayside. Very pretty it looked, with the flames blowing about in the twilight; but what took my attention was the listlessness of the boys and their lack of interest in the proceeding. A single lad, the youngest, would be raking the fire together and keeping it alight, but the rest stood lounging about and looking in every other direction, with the air of discharging mechanically a traditional office from which all zest had evaporated.” “The pious orgy at Naples on September the eighth went through the following phases when I witnessed it in 1897. It began at eight in the evening with an illumination of the façade of Santa Maria Piedigrotta and with the whole population walking about blowing penny trumpets. After four hours of this I went to bed at midnight, and was lulled to sleep by barrel-organs, which supersede the trumpets about that hour. At four in the morning I was waked by detonations as if the British fleet were bombarding the city, caused, I was afterwards told, by dynamite rockets. The only step possible beyond this is assassination, which accordingly takes place about peep of day: I forget now the number of the slain, but I think the average is eight or ten, and I know that in honour of my presence they murdered a few more than usual.”

The Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin on September 8th is celebrated in Naples and Capri with fireworks, bonfires, and even some violence. Regarding this, my [pg 221] friend Professor A. E. Housman, who has observed the celebration in both locations over the years, kindly shared the following details: In 1906, I was on the island of Capri on September 8th, the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin. The celebration featured fireworks around nine or ten in the evening, which I assume were organized by the city. However, just after sunset, the boys outside the villages were starting small fires from brushwood on neglected patches of land by the roadside. It looked quite beautiful, with the flames flickering in the twilight, but what stood out to me was the boys' indifference and lack of enthusiasm for it all. One young boy was tending to the fire, while the others stood around, aimlessly looking in every direction, as if they were just going through the motions of a tradition that had lost all its excitement. The enthusiastic celebration in Naples on September 8th unfolded in several stages when I witnessed it in 1897. It began at eight in the evening with the illumination of the front of Santa Maria Piedigrotta, and the entire crowd wandered around blowing penny trumpets. After four hours of this, I went to bed at midnight, lulled to sleep by the barrel organs, which replaced the trumpets at that hour. At four in the morning, I was woken up by explosions that sounded like the British fleet was bombarding the city, which I later found out were caused by dynamite rockets. The only thing that could follow this spectacle is violence, which usually happens around dawn: I don't remember the exact number of casualties, but I think it's typically around eight or ten, and I know that in honor of my presence, they killed a few more than usual.

The Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin may have taken the place of a pagan festival.

It is no doubt possible that these illuminations and fire-works, like the assassinations, are merely the natural and spontaneous expressions of that overflowing joy with which the thought of the birth of the Virgin must fill every pious heart; but when we remember how often the Church has skilfully decanted the new wine of Christianity into the old bottles of heathendom, we may be allowed to conjecture that the ecclesiastical authorities adroitly timed the Nativity of the Virgin so as to coincide with an old pagan festival [pg 222] of that day, in which fire, noise, and uproar, if not broken heads and bloodshed, were conspicuous features. The penny trumpets blown on this occasion recall the like melodious instruments which figure so largely in the celebration of Befana (the Eve of Epiphany) at Rome.565

It’s definitely possible that these lights and fireworks, just like the assassinations, are simply natural and spontaneous expressions of the overflowing joy that the thought of the Virgin's birth brings to every devout heart. However, when we consider how often the Church has cleverly adapted the new teachings of Christianity to fit the old customs of paganism, we might speculate that the Church authorities cleverly timed the Virgin's Nativity to line up with an old pagan festival on that day, where fire, noise, and chaos, if not actual fights and bloodshed, were prominent features. The penny trumpets played on this occasion remind us of similar melodic instruments that play a big role in the celebration of Befana (the Eve of Epiphany) in Rome.[pg 222]

§ 6. The Halloween Fires.

The coincidence of the Midsummer festival with the summer solstice suggests that the festival's founders set their calendar based on sun observations.

From the foregoing survey we may infer that among the heathen forefathers of the European peoples the most popular and widespread fire-festival of the year was the great celebration of Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day. The coincidence of the festival with the summer solstice can hardly be accidental. Rather we must suppose that our pagan ancestors purposely timed the ceremony of fire on earth to coincide with the arrival of the sun at the highest point of his course in the sky. If that was so, it follows that the old founders of the midsummer rites had observed the solstices or turning-points of the sun's apparent path in the sky, and that they accordingly regulated their festal calendar to some extent by astronomical considerations.

From the preceding overview, we can conclude that among the ancient ancestors of European people, the most popular and widespread fire festival of the year was the grand celebration of Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day. The timing of the festival with the summer solstice seems hardly coincidental. Instead, we should assume that our pagan ancestors intentionally scheduled the fire ceremony on Earth to align with the sun reaching its highest point in the sky. If that’s the case, it indicates that the early creators of the midsummer rituals noticed the solstices or points where the sun appears to change direction in the sky, and they adjusted their festival calendar to some extent based on astronomical factors.

In contrast, the Celts divided their year not by the solstices but by the start of summer (May 1) and the start of winter (November 1). This division appears to be based not on astronomy or agriculture but on pastoral activities, specifically the times when cattle are moved to and from their summer pastures.

But while this may be regarded as fairly certain for what we may call the aborigines throughout a large part of the continent, it appears not to have been true of the Celtic peoples who inhabited the Land's End of Europe, the islands and promontories that stretch out into the Atlantic ocean on the North-West. The principal fire-festivals of the Celts, which have survived, though in a restricted area and with diminished pomp, to modern times and even to our own day, were seemingly timed without any reference to the position of the sun in the heaven. They were two in number, and fell at an interval of six months, one being celebrated on the eve of May Day and the other on Allhallow Even or Hallowe'en, as it is now commonly called, that is, on the thirty-first of October, the day preceding All Saints' or Allhallows' Day. These dates coincide with none of the four great hinges on which the solar year revolves, to wit, the solstices and the equinoxes. Nor do they agree with the principal seasons of the agricultural [pg 223] year, the sowing in spring and the reaping in autumn. For when May Day comes, the seed has long been committed to the earth; and when November opens, the harvest has long been reaped and garnered, the fields lie bare, the fruit-trees are stripped, and even the yellow leaves are fast fluttering to the ground. Yet the first of May and the first of November mark turning-points of the year in Europe; the one ushers in the genial heat and the rich vegetation of summer, the other heralds, if it does not share, the cold and barrenness of winter. Now these particular points of the year, as has been well pointed out by a learned and ingenious writer,566 while they are of comparatively little moment to the European husbandman, do deeply concern the European herdsman; for it is on the approach of summer that he drives his cattle out into the open to crop the fresh grass, and it is on the approach of winter that he leads them back to the safety and shelter of the stall. Accordingly it seems not improbable that the Celtic bisection of the year into two halves at the beginning of May and the beginning of November dates from a time when the Celts were mainly a pastoral people, dependent for their subsistence on their herds, and when accordingly the great epochs of the year for them were the days on which the cattle went forth from the homestead in early summer and returned to it again in early winter.567 Even in Central Europe, remote from the region now occupied by the Celts, a similar bisection of the year may be clearly traced in the great popularity, on the one hand, of May Day and its Eve (Walpurgis Night), and, on the other hand, of the Feast of All Souls at the beginning of November, [pg 224] which under a thin Christian cloak conceals an ancient pagan festival of the dead.568 Hence we may conjecture that everywhere throughout Europe the celestial division of the year according to the solstices was preceded by what we may call a terrestrial division of the year according to the beginning of summer and the beginning of winter.

But while this may be considered fairly certain for what we can call the original inhabitants across a large part of the continent, it doesn't seem to have been the case for the Celtic peoples who lived at the Land's End in Europe, the islands and cliffs extending into the Atlantic Ocean to the Northwest. The main fire festivals of the Celts, which have persisted, though in a limited area and with less grandeur, into modern times and even today, appear to have been scheduled without reference to the sun's position in the sky. There were two of these festivals, spaced six months apart—one held on the evening of May Day and the other on Allhallow Even or Hallowe'en, as it's now commonly known, specifically on the thirty-first of October, the day before All Saints' or Allhallows' Day. These dates don’t align with any of the four major turning points of the solar year: the solstices and equinoxes. They also don't match with the primary seasons of the agricultural year, which revolve around spring sowing and autumn harvesting. By the time May Day arrives, the seeds have long been planted, and when November begins, the harvest has already been gathered, the fields are bare, the fruit trees are empty, and even the yellow leaves are rapidly falling. Yet, the first of May and the first of November signify important changes in the year for Europe; one marks the arrival of the warm summer weather and lush vegetation, while the other signals, if not brings, the cold and barrenness of winter. These specific points in the year, as noted by an insightful writer, are of relatively little importance to the European farmer but are crucial for the European herdsman; it's at the start of summer that he takes his cattle out to graze on fresh grass, and as winter approaches, he leads them back to the safety and shelter of their stalls. Therefore, it seems likely that the Celtic division of the year into two halves at the beginning of May and the beginning of November dates back to a time when the Celts were predominantly a pastoral people, reliant on their herds for survival, making the significant times of the year the days when the cattle left the homestead in early summer and returned in early winter. Even in Central Europe, far from the area currently occupied by the Celts, a similar division of the year is evident in the widespread celebration of May Day and its Eve (Walpurgis Night), as well as the Feast of All Souls at the start of November, which, behind a thin layer of Christianity, hides an ancient pagan festival for the dead. Thus, we can infer that throughout Europe, the celestial division of the year according to the solstices was preceded by what we might call a terrestrial division of the year based on the start of summer and winter.

The two major Celtic festivals, Beltane and Hallowe'en.

Be that as it may, the two great Celtic festivals of May Day and the first of November or, to be more accurate, the Eves of these two days, closely resemble each other in the manner of their celebration and in the superstitions associated with them, and alike, by the antique character impressed upon both, betray a remote and purely pagan origin. The festival of May Day or Beltane, as the Celts called it, which ushered in summer, has already been described;569 it remains to give some account of the corresponding festival of Hallowe'en, which announced the arrival of winter.

That being said, the two major Celtic festivals, May Day and the first of November—more specifically, the evenings of these two days—are quite similar in how they’re celebrated and the superstitions linked to them. Both, due to their ancient roots, reveal a distant and entirely pagan origin. The festival of May Day, or Beltane as the Celts called it, which marked the beginning of summer, has already been discussed; 569 now it’s time to provide some details about the related festival of Hallowe'en, which signified the start of winter.

Hallowe'en (the evening of October 31st) appears to have signified the start of the Celtic year. The various methods of divination used on Hallowe'en are fitting for the start of a New Year. Hallowe'en is also a celebration of the dead.

Of the two feasts Hallowe'en was perhaps of old the more important, since the Celts would seem to have dated the beginning of the year from it rather than from Beltane. In the Isle of Man, one of the fortresses in which the Celtic language and lore longest held out against the siege of the Saxon invaders, the first of November, Old Style, has been regarded as New Year's day down to recent times. Thus Manx mummers used to go round on Hallowe'en (Old Style), singing, in the Manx language, a sort of Hogmanay song which began “To-night is New Year's Night, Hogunnaa!”570 One of Sir John Rhys's Manx informants, an old man of sixty-seven, “had been a farm servant from the age of sixteen till he was twenty-six to the same man, near Regaby, in the parish of Andreas, and he remembers his master and a near neighbour of his discussing the term New Year's Day as applied to the first of November, and explaining to the younger men that it had always been so in old [pg 225] times. In fact, it seemed to him natural enough, as all tenure of land ends at that time, and as all servant men begin their service then.”571 In ancient Ireland, as we saw, a new fire used to be kindled every year on Hallowe'en or the Eve of Samhain, and from this sacred flame all the fires in Ireland were rekindled.572 Such a custom points strongly to Samhain or All Saints' Day (the first of November) as New Year's Day; since the annual kindling of a new fire takes place most naturally at the beginning of the year, in order that the blessed influence of the fresh fire may last throughout the whole period of twelve months. Another confirmation of the view that the Celts dated their year from the first of November is furnished by the manifold modes of divination which, as we shall see presently, were commonly resorted to by Celtic peoples on Hallowe'en for the purpose of ascertaining their destiny, especially their fortune in the coming year; for when could these devices for prying into the future be more reasonably put in practice than at the beginning of the year? As a season of omens and auguries Hallowe'en seems to have far surpassed Beltane in the imagination of the Celts; from which we may with some probability infer that they reckoned their year from Hallowe'en rather than Beltane. Another circumstance of great moment which points to the same conclusion is the association of the dead with Hallowe'en. Not only among the Celts but throughout Europe, Hallowe'en, the night which marks the transition from autumn to winter, seems to have been of old the time of year when the souls of the departed were supposed to revisit their old homes in order to warm themselves by the fire and to comfort themselves with the good cheer provided for them in the kitchen or the parlour by their affectionate kinsfolk.573 It was, perhaps, a [pg 226] natural thought that the approach of winter should drive the poor shivering hungry ghosts from the bare fields and the leafless woodlands to the shelter of the cottage with its familiar fireside.574 Did not the lowing kine then troop back from the summer pastures in the forests and on the hills to be fed and cared for in the stalls, while the bleak winds whistled among the swaying boughs and the snow drifts deepened in the hollows? and could the good-man and the good-wife deny to the spirits of their dead the welcome which they gave to the cows?

Of the two feasts, Hallowe'en was perhaps more significant in ancient times, as the Celts seemed to mark the start of the year from it rather than Beltane. On the Isle of Man, one of the strongholds where the Celtic language and traditions persisted against the Saxon invaders, November 1st, according to the Old Style calendar, has been celebrated as New Year's Day until quite recently. Thus, Manx mummers used to go around on Hallowe'en (Old Style), singing in the Manx language a type of Hogmanay song that began "Tonight is New Year's Eve, Hogunnaa!"570 One of Sir John Rhys's Manx sources, a seventy-year-old man, He worked as a farmhand from the age of sixteen to twenty-six for the same employer near Regaby, in the parish of Andreas. He remembers his boss and a close neighbor talking about New Year's Day referring to November 1st, explaining to the younger men that this had always been the case in the past. For him, it felt completely natural since all land leases end at that time, and all workers start their jobs then.571 In ancient Ireland, as we noted, a new fire was lit each year on Hallowe'en or the Eve of Samhain, and from this sacred flame, all the fires in Ireland were rekindled.572 Such a tradition strongly suggests that Samhain or All Saints' Day (November 1st) was regarded as New Year's Day; since the annual lighting of a new fire naturally happens at the start of the year, so that the blessed influence of the fresh fire lasts throughout the entire twelve-month period. Another indication that the Celts began their year on November 1st is the various methods of divination that, as we will soon see, were typically practiced by Celtic people on Hallowe'en to determine their destiny, particularly their fortune for the upcoming year; because when would these methods of peering into the future be more appropriately employed than at the start of the year? As a time for omens and signs, Hallowe'en seems to have eclipsed Beltane in the minds of the Celts; from which we can fairly infer that they considered their year to start from Hallowe'en rather than Beltane. Another significant factor that supports this conclusion is the connection between the dead and Hallowe'en. Not only among the Celts but throughout Europe, Hallowe'en, the night that marks the shift from autumn to winter, appears to have historically been when the souls of the deceased were thought to revisit their old homes to warm themselves by the fire and enjoy the good food provided for them in the kitchen or parlor by their loving relatives.573 It was perhaps a [pg 226] natural idea that the cold approach of winter would drive the shivering, hungry ghosts from the bare fields and leafless woods to the cozy cottage with its familiar fireside.574 Did not the lowing cattle then return from the summer pastures in the forests and on the hills to be fed and cared for in the stables, while the chilly winds whistled through the swaying branches and the snow piled up in the hollows? And could the man and woman of the house deny the spirits of their dead the welcome they offered to the cattle?

Fairies and hobgoblins let loose on Halloween. Dancing with the fairies on Halloween.

But it is not only the souls of the departed who are supposed to be hovering unseen on the day “when autumn to winter resigns the pale year.” Witches then speed on their errands of mischief, some sweeping through the air on besoms, others galloping along the roads on tabby-cats, which for that evening are turned into coal-black steeds.575 The fairies, too, are all let loose, and hobgoblins of every sort roam freely about. In South Uist and Eriskay there is a saying:—

But it's not just the souls of the departed that are said to be floating around unseen on the day "when autumn gives way to winter." Witches then rush about on their mischievous errands, some gliding through the air on brooms, others racing along the roads on tabby cats, which for that night become jet-black steeds.575 The fairies are also unleashed, and all kinds of hobgoblins roam freely. In South Uist and Eriskay, there's a saying:—

“Halloween will come, will come,"
Witchcraft [or divination] will be initiated,
Fairies will be going all out,
Running in every lane.
Stay off the road, kids.576

In Cardiganshire on November Eve a bogie sits on every stile.577 On that night in Ireland all the fairy hills are thrown wide open and the fairies swarm forth; any man who is bold enough may then peep into the open green hills and see the treasures hidden in them. Worse than that, the cave of Cruachan in Connaught, known as “the Hell-gate of Ireland,” is unbarred on Samhain Eve or Hallowe'en, and a host of horrible fiends and goblins used to rush forth, particularly a flock of copper-red birds, which [pg 227] blighted crops and killed animals by their poisonous breath.578 The Scotch Highlanders have a special name Samhanach (derived from Samhain, “All-hallows”) for the dreadful bogies that go about that night stealing babies and committing other atrocities.579 And though the fairies are a kindlier folk, it is dangerous to see even them at their revels on Hallowe'en. A melancholy case of this sort is reported from the Ferintosh district of the Highlands, though others say that it happened at the Slope of Big Stones in Harris. Two young men were coming home after nightfall on Hallowe'en, each with a jar of whisky on his back, when they saw, as they thought, a house all lit up by the roadside, from which proceeded the sounds of music and dancing. In reality it was not a house at all but a fairy knoll, and it was the fairies who were jigging it about there so merrily. But one of the young men was deceived and stepping into the house joined in the dance, without even stopping to put down the jar of whisky. His companion was wiser; he had a shrewd suspicion that the place was not what it seemed, and on entering he took the precaution of sticking a needle in the door. That disarmed the power of the fairies, and he got away safely. Well, that day twelve months he came back to the spot and what should he see but his poor friend still dancing away with the jar of whisky on his back? A weary man was he, as you may well believe, but he begged to be allowed to finish the reel which he was in the act of executing, and when they took him out into the open air, there was nothing of him left but skin and bones.580 Again, the wicked fairies are apt to carry off men's wives with them to fairyland; but the lost spouses can be recovered within a year and a day when the procession of the fairies is defiling past on Hallowe'en, always provided that the mortals did not partake of elfin food while they were in elfinland.581

In Cardiganshire on All Hallows' Eve, a ghost sits on every stile. On that night in Ireland, all the fairy hills swing open, and the fairies come out; anyone brave enough can peek into the open green hills and see the treasures hidden there. Even worse, the cave of Cruachan in Connaught, known as “the Hell-gate of Ireland,” is unbarred on Samhain Eve or Halloween, and a swarm of horrible fiends and goblins would rush out, especially a flock of copper-red birds that blighted crops and killed animals with their poisonous breath. The Scottish Highlanders have a special name, Samhanach (derived from Samhain, “All-hallows”), for the terrifying bogies that roam that night, stealing babies and committing other atrocities. And while the fairies are generally kinder, it's still dangerous to catch sight of them during their festivities on Halloween. A sad incident is reported from the Ferintosh area of the Highlands, though others say it happened at the Slope of Big Stones in Harris. Two young men were walking home after dark on Halloween, each carrying a jar of whisky on his back, when they noticed what they thought was a well-lit house by the roadside, filled with the sounds of music and dancing. In reality, it wasn't a house but a fairy mound, and it was the fairies who were dancing joyfully there. One of the young men was fooled and stepped into the "house," joining the dance without even stopping to set down his jar of whisky. His friend was more cautious; he had a strong suspicion that the place wasn't what it appeared to be, and when he entered, he wisely stuck a needle in the door. That nullified the fairies' power, and he escaped safely. Well, a year later, he returned to the same spot and what did he see but his poor friend still dancing with the jar of whisky on his back? He was a worn-out man, as you can imagine, but he asked to be allowed to finish the dance he was in the middle of, and when they brought him out into the fresh air, there was nothing left of him but skin and bones. Again, the mischievous fairies are known to take men’s wives with them to fairyland; however, the lost spouses can be recovered within a year and a day when the fairy procession passes by on Halloween, as long as the mortals didn’t eat elfin food while in fairyland.

Guleesh and the fairy celebrations on Halloween.

Sometimes valuable information may be obtained from the fairies on Hallowe'en. There was a young man named [pg 228] Guleesh in the County of Mayo. Near his house was a rath or old fort with a fine grass bank running round it. One Hallowe'en, when the darkness was falling, Guleesh went to the rath and stood on a gray old flag. The night was calm and still; there was not a breath of wind stirring, nor a sound to be heard except the hum of the insects flitting past, or the whistle of the plovers, or the hoarse scream of the wild geese as they winged their way far overhead. Above the white fog the moon rose like a knob of fire in the east, and a thousand thousand stars were twinkling in the sky. There was a little frost in the air, the grass was white and crisp and crackled under foot. Guleesh expected to see the fairies, but they did not come. Hour after hour wore away, and he was just bethinking him of going home to bed, when his ear caught a sound far off coming towards him, and he knew what it was in a moment. The sound grew louder and louder; at first it was like the beating of waves on a stony shore, then it was like the roar of a waterfall, at last it was like a mighty rushing wind in the tops of the trees, then the storm burst upon the rath, and sure enough the fairies were in it. The rout went by so suddenly that Guleesh lost his breath; but he came to himself and listened. The fairies were now gathered within the grassy bank of the rath, and a fine uproar they made. But Guleesh listened with all his ears, and he heard one fairy saying to another that a magic herb grew by Guleesh's own door, and that Guleesh had nothing to do but pluck it and boil it and give it to his sweetheart, the daughter of the King of France, and she would be well, for just then she was lying very ill. Guleesh took the hint, and everything went as the fairy had said. And he married the daughter of the King of France; and they had never a cark nor a care, a sickness nor a sorrow, a mishap nor a misfortune to the day of their death.582

Sometimes, valuable information can be gathered from fairies on Halloween. There was a young man named [pg 228] Guleesh in County Mayo. Near his house was a rath or old fort with a nice grassy bank surrounding it. One Halloween, as darkness was setting in, Guleesh went to the rath and stood on an old gray stone. The night was calm and quiet; there wasn't a breath of wind, and the only sounds were the buzzing of passing insects, the whistle of plovers, and the loud cry of wild geese flying high above. The moon rose like a fireball in the eastern sky, above the white fog, while countless stars twinkled in the night. There was a little chill in the air; the grass was white and crisp, crackling underfoot. Guleesh expected to see the fairies, but they didn’t appear. Hours passed, and just as he was thinking about heading home to bed, he heard a sound coming from far away, and he recognized it immediately. The sound grew louder and louder; at first, it was like waves crashing on a rocky shore, then like the roar of a waterfall, and finally like a strong wind rushing through the tree tops. The storm hit the rath, and sure enough, the fairies were in it. The chaos passed by so quickly that Guleesh was left breathless; but he regained his composure and listened. The fairies had gathered within the grassy bank of the rath, creating quite a commotion. Guleesh listened intently and heard one fairy tell another that a magic herb grew by Guleesh's own door, and that all Guleesh had to do was pick it, boil it, and give it to his sweetheart, the daughter of the King of France, and she would recover, as she was very ill at that moment. Guleesh took the advice, and everything happened just as the fairy had said. He married the daughter of the King of France, and they had no worries or cares, no sickness or sorrow, no mishaps or misfortunes until the day they died.582

Divination practiced in Celtic countries at Hallowe'en.

In all Celtic countries Hallowe'en seems to have been the great season of the year for prying into the future; all kinds of divination were put in practice that night. We read that Dathi, a king of Ireland in the fifth century, [pg 229] happening to be at the Druids' Hill (Cnoc-nan-druad) in the county of Sligo one Hallowe'en, ordered his druid to forecast for him the future from that day till the next Hallowe'en should come round. The druid passed the night on the top of the hill, and next morning made a prediction to the king which came true.583 In Wales Hallowe'en was the weirdest of all the Teir Nos Ysbrydion, or Three Spirit Nights, when the wind, “blowing over the feet of the corpses,” bore sighs to the houses of those who were to die within the year. People thought that if on that night they went out to a cross-road and listened to the wind, they would learn all the most important things that would befall them during the next twelve months.584 In Wales, too, not so long ago women used to congregate in the parish churches on the night of Hallowe'en and read their fate from the flame of the candle which each of them held in her hand; also they heard the names or saw the coffins of the parishioners who would die within the year, and many were the sad scenes to which these gloomy visions gave rise.585 And in the Highlands of Scotland anybody who pleased could hear proclaimed aloud the names of parishioners doomed to perish within the next twelve months, if he would only take a three-legged stool and go and sit on it at three cross-roads, while the church clock was striking twelve at midnight on Hallowe'en. It was even in his power to save the destined victims from their doom by taking with him articles of wearing apparel and throwing them away, one by one, as each name was called out by the mysterious voice.586

In all Celtic countries, Halloween was a significant time of the year for looking into the future; all sorts of divination practices were performed that night. We read that Dathi, a king of Ireland in the fifth century, [pg 229] found himself at Druids' Hill (Cnoc-nan-druad) in County Sligo one Halloween and asked his druid to predict the future for him from that day until the next Halloween. The druid spent the night on top of the hill, and the following morning gave the king a prediction that came true.583 In Wales, Halloween was the strangest of all the Spirit World, or Three Spirit Nights, when the wind, “ruffling the feet of the corpses,” carried sighs to the homes of those who would die within the year. People believed that if they went out to a crossroad on that night and listened to the wind, they would discover all the significant events that would happen to them in the coming twelve months.584 In Wales, not too long ago, women would gather in parish churches on Halloween night and read their fortunes from the flame of the candle each held; they also heard the names or saw the coffins of the parishioners who would die within the year, leading to many sad scenes caused by these grim visions.585 In the Highlands of Scotland, anyone could hear the names of parishioners destined to die in the next twelve months proclaimed aloud, simply by taking a three-legged stool and sitting on it at three crossroads while the church clock struck twelve at midnight on Halloween. It was possible to save these doomed individuals by bringing clothing items and discarding them one by one as each name was called out by the mysterious voice.586

Hallowe'en bonfires in the Highlands of Scotland. John Ramsay's description of the Hallowe'en bonfires. Divination using stones at the fire. Hallowe'en fires in the parishes of Callander and Logierait. Divination with stones.

But while a glamour of mystery and awe has always clung to Hallowe'en in the minds of the Celtic peasantry, the popular celebration of the festival has been, at least in modern times, by no means of a prevailingly gloomy cast; on the contrary it has been attended by picturesque features and [pg 230] merry pastimes, which rendered it the gayest night of all the year. Amongst the things which in the Highlands of Scotland contributed to invest the festival with a romantic beauty were the bonfires which used to blaze at frequent intervals on the heights. “On the last day of autumn children gathered ferns, tar-barrels, the long thin stalks called gàinisg, and everything suitable for a bonfire. These were placed in a heap on some eminence near the house, and in the evening set fire to. The fires were called Samhnagan. There was one for each house, and it was an object of ambition who should have the biggest. Whole districts were brilliant with bonfires, and their glare across a Highland loch, and from many eminences, formed an exceedingly picturesque scene.”587 Like the Beltane fires on the first of May, the Hallowe'en bonfires seem to have been kindled most commonly in the Perthshire Highlands. Travelling in the parish of Moulin, near Pitlochrie, in the year 1772, the Englishman Thomas Pennant writes that “Hallow Eve is also kept sacred: as soon as it is dark, a person sets fire to a bush of broom fastened round a pole, and, attended with a crowd, runs about the village. He then flings it down, heaps great quantity of combustible matters on it, and makes a great bonfire. A whole tract is thus illuminated at the same time, and makes a fine appearance.”588 The custom has been described more fully by a Scotchman of the eighteenth century, John Ramsay of Ochtertyre. On the evening of Hallowe'en “the young people of every hamlet assembled upon some eminence near the houses. There they made a bonfire of ferns or other fuel, cut the same day, which from the feast was called Samh-nag or Savnag, a fire of rest and pleasure. Around it was placed a circle of stones, one for each person of the families to whom they belonged. And when it grew dark the bonfire was kindled, at which a loud shout was set up. Then each person taking a torch of ferns or sticks in his hand, ran round the fire exulting; and sometimes [pg 231] times they went into the adjacent fields, where, if there was another company, they visited the bonfire, taunting the others if inferior in any respect to themselves. After the fire was burned out they returned home, where a feast was prepared, and the remainder of the evening was spent in mirth and diversions of various kinds. Next morning they repaired betimes to the bonfire, where the situation of the stones was examined with much attention. If any of them were misplaced, or if the print of a foot could be discerned near any particular stone, it was imagined that the person for whom it was set would not live out the year. Of late years this is less attended to, but about the beginning of the present century it was regarded as a sure prediction. The Hallowe'en fire is still kept up in some parts of the Low country; but on the western coast and in the Isles it is never kindled, though the night is spent in merriment and entertainments.”589 In the Perthshire parish of Callander, which includes the now famous pass of the Trossachs opening out on the winding and wooded shores of the lovely Loch Katrine, the Hallowe'en bonfires were still kindled down to near the end of the eighteenth century. When the fire had died down, the ashes were carefully collected in the form of a circle, and a stone was put in, near the circumference, for every person of the several families interested in the bonfire. Next morning, if any of these stones was found to be displaced or injured, the people made sure that the person represented by it was fey or devoted, and that he could not live twelve months from that day.590 In the parish of Logierait, which covers the beautiful valley of the Tummel, one of the fairest regions of all Scotland, the Hallowe'en fire was somewhat different. Faggots of heath, broom, and the dressings of flax were kindled and carried on poles by men, who ran with them round the villages, attended by a crowd. As soon as one faggot was burnt out, a fresh one was lighted and fastened to the pole. Numbers of these blazing faggots were often carried about together, and when [pg 232] the night happened to be dark, they formed a splendid illumination.591

But while a sense of mystery and wonder has always been associated with Halloween in the minds of the Celtic peasantry, the way people celebrate the festival today is definitely not mostly gloomy; instead, it features colorful aspects and fun activities that make it the most cheerful night of the year. In the Highlands of Scotland, one of the things that added a romantic beauty to the festival was the bonfires that used to blaze at regular intervals on the hills. On the last day of autumn, kids gathered ferns, tar-barrels, the long thin stalks called gàinisg, and anything else suitable for a bonfire. They piled everything up on a high spot near the house and lit it up in the evening. These fires were known as Samhnagan. Each household had one, and everyone aimed to have the biggest bonfire. Whole areas were illuminated by the bonfires, and their glow across a Highland loch and from many hills created a truly picturesque scene.587 Like the Beltane fires on the first of May, the Halloween bonfires were most commonly lit in the Perthshire Highlands. Traveling in the parish of Moulin, near Pitlochrie, in 1772, the Englishman Thomas Pennant noted that "Halloween is also celebrated: as soon as it gets dark, someone lights a bundle of broom tied to a pole and, followed by a crowd, runs through the village. They then throw it down, stack a bunch of flammable items on it, and make a large bonfire. A whole area is lit up at the same time, creating a fantastic sight."588 The custom was more fully described by an 18th-century Scot, John Ramsay of Ochtertyre. On Halloween night, The young people from each village gathered on a hill near their homes. There, they built a bonfire using ferns or other fuel they had cut that same day, which for the feast was called Samh-nag or Savnag, a fire of rest and enjoyment. A circle of stones was placed around it, one for each person in their families. When it got dark, they lit the bonfire, and a loud cheer erupted. Each person then took a torch made of ferns or sticks and ran around the fire in celebration; sometimes [pg 231] they ventured into the nearby fields, where they would visit another group's bonfire, teasing them if they were in any way lacking. After the fire burned out, they returned home where a feast awaited, and the rest of the evening was filled with fun and various kinds of entertainment. The next morning, they got up early to check the bonfire, examining the placement of the stones very carefully. If any stones were out of place or if a footprint was seen near any stone, it was believed that the person for whom it was set would not live out the year. Recently, this belief has been less followed, but at the beginning of this century, it was considered a reliable prediction. The Halloween fire is still observed in some parts of the Lowlands; however, on the western coast and in the Isles, it is never lit, although the night is filled with fun and entertainment.589 In the Perthshire parish of Callander, which includes the now-famous pass of the Trossachs opening onto the winding, wooded shores of the beautiful Loch Katrine, the Halloween bonfires were still lit until nearly the end of the 18th century. When the fire had died down, the ashes were carefully gathered into a circle, and a stone was added, near the edge, for each member of the various families connected to the bonfire. The next morning, if any of these stones were found misplaced or damaged, people believed that the person represented by it was fae or doomed, and would not live twelve months from that day.590 In the parish of Logierait, which covers the beautiful valley of the Tummel, one of the loveliest areas in all of Scotland, the Halloween fire was somewhat different. Bundles of heath, broom, and flax stalks were lit and carried on poles by men, who ran around the villages, followed by a crowd. As soon as one bundle burned out, a new one was lit and attached to the pole. Many of these blazing bundles were often carried together, and when it was dark, they created a splendid illumination.591

Halloween bonfires on Loch Tay. Halloween bonfires at Balquhidder.

Nor did the Hallowe'en fires die out in Perthshire with the end of the eighteenth century. Journeying from Dunkeld to Aberfeldy on Hallowe'en in the first half of the nineteenth century, Sheriff Barclay counted thirty fires blazing on the hill tops, and saw the figures of the people dancing like phantoms round the flames.592 Again, “in 1860, I was residing near the head of Loch Tay during the season of the Hallowe'en feast. For several days before Hallowe'en, boys and youths collected wood and conveyed it to the most prominent places on the hill sides in their neighbourhood. Some of the heaps were as large as a corn-stack or hay-rick. After dark on Hallowe'en, these heaps were kindled, and for several hours both sides of Loch Tay were illuminated as far as the eye could see. I was told by old men that at the beginning of this century men as well as boys took part in getting up the bonfires, and that, when the fire was ablaze, all joined hands and danced round the fire, and made a great noise; but that, as these gatherings generally ended in drunkenness and rough and dangerous fun, the ministers set their faces against the observance, and were seconded in their efforts by the more intelligent and well-behaved in the community; and so the practice was discontinued by adults and relegated to school boys.”593 At Balquhidder down to the latter part of the nineteenth century each household kindled its bonfire at Hallowe'en, but the custom was chiefly observed by children. The fires were lighted on any high knoll near the house; there was no dancing round them.594

Nor did the Hallowe'en fires go out in Perthshire with the end of the eighteenth century. Traveling from Dunkeld to Aberfeldy on Hallowe'en in the first half of the nineteenth century, Sheriff Barclay saw thirty fires flickering on the hilltops and watched as people danced like ghosts around the flames. 592 Again, In 1860, I was living near the top of Loch Tay during the Hallowe'en festivities. For several days leading up to Hallowe'en, boys and young men collected wood and brought it to the most prominent spots on the hills in their area. Some of these piles were as large as a corn stack or hay rick. After dark on Hallowe'en, these piles were lit, and for several hours, both sides of Loch Tay were lit up as far as the eye could see. Older men told me that at the beginning of this century, both men and boys helped build the bonfires, and when the fire roared, everyone held hands and danced around it while making a lot of noise. However, since these gatherings often ended in drunkenness and rowdy behavior, the ministers opposed the tradition, and the more sensible and well-behaved members of the community supported them, which led to the custom being abandoned by adults and left to schoolboys. 593 In Balquhidder, up until the late nineteenth century, every household lit its own bonfire on Hallowe'en, but the tradition was mostly kept by children. The fires were lit on any high hill near the house; there was no dancing around them. 594

Hallowe'en fires in Buchan to burn the witches. Torchlit processions on Hallowe'en in the Braemar Highlands.

Hallowe'en fires were also lighted in some districts of the north-east of Scotland, such as Buchan. Villagers and farmers alike must have their fire. In the villages the boys went from house to house and begged a peat from each householder, usually with the words, “Ge's a peat t' burn [pg 233] the witches.” In some villages the lads collected the peats in a cart, some of them drawing it along and the others receiving the peats and loading them on the cart. Along with the peats they accumulated straw, furze, potato haulm, everything that would burn quickly, and when they had got enough they piled it all in a heap and set it on fire. Then each of the youths, one after another, laid himself down on the ground as near to the fire as he could without being scorched, and thus lying allowed the smoke to roll over him. The others ran through the smoke and jumped over their prostrate comrade. When the heap was burned down, they scattered the ashes. Each one took a share in this part of the ceremony, giving a kick first with the right foot and then with the left; and each vied with the other who should scatter the most. After that some of them still continued to run through the scattered ashes and to pelt each other with the half-burned peats. At each farm a spot as high as possible, not too near the steading, was chosen for the fire, and the proceedings were much the same as at the village bonfire. The lads of one farm, when their own fire was burned down and the ashes scattered, sometimes went to a neighbouring fire and helped to kick the ashes about.595 Referring to this part of Scotland, a writer at the end of the eighteenth century observes that “the Hallow-even fire, another relict of druidism, was kindled in Buchan. Various magic ceremonies were then celebrated to counteract the influence of witches and demons, and to prognosticate to the young their success or disappointment in the matrimonial lottery. These being devoutly finished, the hallow fire was kindled, and guarded by the male part of the family. Societies were formed, either by pique or humour, to scatter certain fires, and the attack and defence were often conducted with art and with fury.”596 Down to about the middle of the nineteenth century “the Braemar Highlanders made the circuit of their fields with lighted torches at Hallowe'en to ensure their fertility in the coming year. [pg 234] At that date the custom was as follows: Every member of the family (in those days households were larger than they are now) was provided with a bundle of fir ‘can'les’ with which to go the round. The father and mother stood at the hearth and lit the splints in the peat fire, which they passed to the children and servants, who trooped out one after the other, and proceeded to tread the bounds of their little property, going slowly round at equal distances apart, and invariably with the sun. To go ‘withershins’ seems to have been reserved for cursing and excommunication. When the fields had thus been circumambulated the remaining spills were thrown together in a heap and allowed to burn out.”597

Hallowe'en fires were also lit in some areas of the northeast of Scotland, like Buchan. Villagers and farmers alike made sure to have their fire. In the villages, the boys went from house to house asking for a peat from each household, usually saying, "He's a peat to burn [pg 233] the witches." In some villages, the boys collected the peats in a cart, with some pulling it along while others loaded the peats onto it. Along with the peats, they gathered straw, furze, potato tops, and anything else that would catch fire easily. Once they had enough, they piled it all together and set it ablaze. Then each of the young men, one by one, lay down on the ground as close to the fire as they could without getting burnt, allowing the smoke to roll over them. The others ran through the smoke and jumped over their lying friend. After the pile was burned down, they scattered the ashes. Each person took part in this part of the ritual, kicking with their right foot first and then with their left, competing to see who could scatter the most. After that, some continued to run through the scattered ashes and throw half-burned peats at each other. At each farm, a spot as high as possible, but not too close to the buildings, was chosen for the fire, and the actions were quite similar to those at the village bonfire. The boys from one farm, when their own fire was burned down and the ashes scattered, sometimes went to a neighboring fire and helped kick the ashes around.595 Referring to this part of Scotland, a writer at the end of the eighteenth century noted that The Hallow-e'en fire, a leftover from druid practices, was lit in Buchan. Various magical ceremonies were held to ward off the influence of witches and demons, and to predict success or disappointment in finding a partner for the young. After these rituals were carefully completed, the hallow fire was lit and watched over by the male family members. Groups formed, either out of spite or just for fun, to extinguish certain fires, and the attacks and defenses were often executed with skill and enthusiasm.596 Up until about the mid-nineteenth century The Braemar Highlanders walked around their fields with lit torches on Hallowe'en to ensure their land was fertile for the coming year. At that time, the custom was as follows: Each family member (households back then were larger than today) was given a bundle of fir “candles” to carry. The father and mother would stand by the hearth and light the splints in the peat fire, then hand them to the children and servants, who would go out one by one and start walking the boundaries of their small property, moving slowly in a circle at equal distances from one another, always facing the direction of the sun. Going “withershins” seemed to be reserved for curses and excommunication. After they completed the circuit of the fields, the remaining splints were gathered into a pile and left to burn out.597

Divination at Hallowe'en in the Highlands and Lowlands of Scotland. The stolen kail. Sowing hemp seed. The clue of blue yarn. The winnowing basket. The wet shirt. The thrown shoe.

In the Highlands of Scotland, as the evening of Hallowe'en wore on, young people gathered in one of the houses and resorted to an almost endless variety of games, or rather forms of divination, for the purpose of ascertaining the future fate of each member of the company. Were they to marry or remain single, was the marriage to take place that year or never, who was to be married first, what sort of husband or wife she or he was to get, the name, the trade, the colour of the hair, the amount of property of the future spouse—these were questions that were eagerly canvassed and the answers to them furnished never-failing entertainment.598 Nor were these modes of divination at Hallowe'en confined to the Highlands, where the bonfires were kindled; they were practised with equal faith and in practically the same forms in the Lowlands, as we learn, for example, from Burns's poem Hallowe'en, which describes the auguries drawn from a variety of omens by the Ayrshire peasantry. These Lowlanders of Saxon descent may well have inherited the rites from the Celts who preceded them in the possession of the south country. A common practice at Hallowe'en was to go out stealthily to a neighbour's kailyard and there, with shut eyes, to pull up the first kail [pg 235] stock that came to hand. It was necessary that the plants should be stolen without the knowledge or consent of their owner; otherwise they were quite useless for the purpose of divination. Strictly speaking, too, the neighbour upon whose garden the raid was made should be unmarried, whether a bachelor or a spinster. The stolen kail was taken home and examined, and according to its height, shape, and features would be the height, shape, and features of the future husband or wife. The taste of the custock, that is, the heart of the stem, was an infallible indication of his or her temper; and a clod of earth adhering to the root signified, in proportion to its size, the amount of property which he or she would bring to the common stock. Then the kail-stock or runt, as it was called in Ayrshire, was placed over the lintel of the door; and the baptismal name of the young man or woman who first entered the door after the kail was in position would be the baptismal name of the husband or wife.599 Again, young women sowed hemp seed over nine ridges of ploughed land, saying, “I sow hemp seed, and he who is to be my husband, let him come and harrow it.” On looking back over her left shoulder the girl would see the figure of her future mate behind her in the darkness. In the north-east of Scotland lint seed was used instead of hemp seed and answered the purpose quite as well.600 Again, a mode of ascertaining your future husband or wife was this. Take a clue of blue yarn and go to a lime-kiln. Throw the clue into the kiln, but keep one end of the thread in your hand and wind it on to another clue. As you come near the end somebody or something will hold the other end tight in the kiln. Then you call out, “Who holds?” giving the thread at the same time a gentle pull. Some one or something will thereupon pull the other end of the thread, and a voice will mention the name of your future husband or wife.601 Another way is this. Go to the [pg 236] barn alone and secretly. Be sure to open both doors and if possible take them off their hinges; for if the being who is about to appear should catch you in the barn and clap the doors to on you, he or she might do you a mischief. Having done this, take the sieve or winnowing-basket, which in Lowland Scotch is called a wecht or waicht, and go through the action of winnowing corn. Repeat it thrice, and at the third time the apparition of your future husband or wife will pass through the barn, entering at the windy door and passing out at the other.602 Or this. Go to a southward running stream, where the lands of three lairds meet, or to a ford where the dead and living have crossed. Dip the left sleeve of your shirt in the water. Then go home, take off the shirt, hang it up before a fire to dry, and go to bed, taking care that the bed stands so that you can see your shirt hanging before the fire. Keep awake, and at midnight you will see the form of your future spouse come into the room and turn the other side of the sleeve to the fire to dry it.603 A Highland form of divination at Hallowe'en is to take a shoe by the tip and throw it over the house, then observe the direction in which the toe points as it lies on the ground on the other side; for in that direction you are destined to go before long. If the shoe should fall sole uppermost, it is very unlucky for you.604

In the Highlands of Scotland, as the evening of Hallowe’en went on, young people gathered in one of the houses and engaged in a nearly endless variety of games, or rather forms of divination, to figure out the future fate of everyone in the group. Would they marry or stay single? Would the marriage happen this year or never at all? Who would be married first? What kind of husband or wife would they get? The name, the job, the hair color, the amount of property of their future spouse—these were questions that were eagerly discussed, and the answers provided constant entertainment. Nor were these divination practices at Hallowe’en limited to the Highlands, where bonfires were lit; they were practiced with equal belief and in practically the same ways in the Lowlands, as we learn, for instance, from Burns's poem Halloween, which describes the omens interpreted by the Ayrshire peasantry. These Lowlanders of Saxon descent likely inherited the rituals from the Celts who lived there before them. A common practice at Hallowe’en was to sneak into a neighbor's garden and, with eyes closed, pull up the first kail [pg 235] stock they could grab. It was important that the plants be taken without the owner's knowledge or consent; otherwise, they were useless for divination. Strictly speaking, the neighbor whose garden was raided should be unmarried, whether a bachelor or a spinster. The stolen kail was brought home and examined, and based on its height, shape, and features, one could determine the height, shape, and features of their future husband or wife. The taste of the custock, that is, the heart of the stem, was a sure indicator of their temper, and a clod of earth attached to the root indicated, in proportion to its size, the wealth they would bring to the marriage. Then the kail-stock or runt, as it was called in Ayrshire, was placed over the doorframe; the baptismal name of the first young man or woman who entered after the kail was put in place would be the baptismal name of their future spouse. Again, young women would sow hemp seed over nine rows of plowed land, saying, “I plant hemp seeds, and whoever is meant to be my husband, let him come and work the ground.” When looking back over her left shoulder, the girl would see the figure of her future partner behind her in the darkness. In the north-east of Scotland, lint seed was used instead of hemp seed and worked just as well. Again, a way to find out about your future husband or wife was this: Take a length of blue yarn and go to a lime-kiln. Throw the length into the kiln, but keep one end of the thread in your hand and wind it onto another length. As you get close to the end, something or someone will pull on the other end in the kiln. Then you call out, "Who’s holding?" while gently pulling on the thread. Someone or something will then pull the other end of the thread, and a voice will say the name of your future partner. Another method is this: Go to the [pg 236] barn alone and in secret. Make sure to open both doors, and if possible, take them off their hinges; for if the being about to appear catches you in the barn and shuts the doors on you, they might harm you. After this, take the sieve or winnowing-basket, which is called a wecht or waicht in Lowland Scotch, and act as if you’re winnowing corn. Do this three times, and on the third time, the apparition of your future husband or wife will pass through the barn, entering through the windy door and exiting through the other. Or this: Go to a southward-flowing stream where the lands of three landowners meet or to a ford where the dead and living have crossed. Dip the left sleeve of your shirt in the water. Then go home, take off the shirt, hang it up in front of the fire to dry, and go to bed, making sure the bed is positioned so you can see your shirt hanging in front of the fire. Stay awake, and at midnight you will see the figure of your future spouse enter the room and turn the other side of the sleeve to the fire to dry it. A Highland method of divination at Hallowe’en is to take a shoe by the tip and throw it over the house, then observe the direction in which the toe points when it lands on the ground on the other side; for that is the direction you are destined to go soon. If the shoe lands sole up, it’s considered very unlucky for you.

The egg whites in the water. The names on the mantel. The nuts in the fire. The milk and flour. The apples in the water. The three plates.

These ways of prying into the future are practised outside of the house; others are observed in the kitchen or the parlour before the cheerful blaze of the fire. Thus the white of eggs, dropped in a glass of pure water, indicates by certain marks how many children a person will have. The impatience and clamour of the children, eager to ascertain the exact number of their future progeny, often induced the housewife to perform this ceremony for them by daylight; and the kindly mother, standing with her face to the window, dropping the white of an egg into a crystal [pg 237] glass of clean water, and surrounded by a group of children intently watching her proceedings, made up a pretty picture.605 When the fun of the evening had fairly commenced, the names of eligible or likely matches were written on the chimney-piece, and the young man who wished to try his fortune was led up blindfolded to the list. Whatever name he put his finger on would prove that of his future wife.606 Again, two nuts, representing a lad and a lass whose names were announced to the company, were put side by side in the fire. If they burned quietly together, the pair would be man and wife, and from the length of time they burned and the brightness of the flame the length and happiness of the married life of the two were augured. But if instead of burning together one of the nuts leaped away from the other, then there would be no marriage, and the blame would rest with the person whose nut had thus started away by itself.607 Again, a dish of milk and meal (in Gaelic fuarag, in Lowland Scotch crowdie) or of beat potatoes was made and a ring was hidden in it. Spoons were served out to the company, who supped the contents of the dish hastily with them, and the one who got the ring would be the first to be married.608 Again, apples and a silver sixpence were put in a tub of water; the apples naturally floated on the top and the sixpence sank to the bottom. Whoever could lift an apple or the sixpence from the water with his mouth, without using his teeth, was counted very lucky and got the prize to himself.609 Again, three plates or basins were placed on the hearth. One was filled with clean water, another with dirty water, and the third was empty. The enquirer was blindfolded, knelt in front of the hearth, and groped about till he put his finger in one of them. If he lighted on the plate with the clean water, he would wed a maid; [pg 238] if on the plate with the dirty water, he would marry a widow; and if on the empty plate, he would remain a bachelor. For a girl the answer of the oracle was analogous; she would marry a bachelor, a widower, or nobody according to the plate into which she chanced to dip her finger. But to make sure, the operation had to be repeated thrice, the position of the plates being changed each time. If the enquirer put his or her finger into the same plate thrice or even twice, it was quite conclusive.610

These methods of peering into the future happen outside the house; others are done in the kitchen or living room in front of the cozy fire. For example, the white of an egg dropped into a glass of clean water shows certain marks indicating how many children a person will have. The eager children, wanting to find out the exact number of their future siblings, often made the housewife perform this ritual for them during the day; and the caring mother, standing by the window with her back to it, dropping the egg white into a crystal [pg 237] glass of clean water, surrounded by a group of children watching her closely, created a lovely scene.605 When the evening fun began, the names of potential matches were written on the mantelpiece, and the young man wishing to test his luck was blindfolded and led to the list. Whichever name he touched would be that of his future wife.606 Next, two nuts, representing a boy and a girl whose names were announced to everyone, were placed side by side in the fire. If they burned quietly together, it meant the pair would marry, and from how long they burned and how bright the flame was, one could predict the length and happiness of their married life. However, if one nut jumped away from the other, it signified no marriage would occur, and the blame would fall on the person whose nut had separated.607 Additionally, a dish of milk and meal (in Gaelic fuarag, in Lowland Scotch crowdie) or mashed potatoes was prepared, and a ring was hidden inside. The guests were given spoons to quickly enjoy the dish, and the one who found the ring would be the first to marry.608 Moreover, apples and a silver sixpence were placed in a tub of water; the apples floated, while the sixpence sank to the bottom. Whoever could lift an apple or the sixpence from the water using only their mouth, without their teeth, was considered very lucky and earned a prize.609 Lastly, three plates or bowls were set on the hearth. One was filled with clean water, another with dirty water, and the third was empty. The person asking the question was blindfolded, knelt in front of the hearth, and felt around until they touched one of the plates. If they touched the one with clean water, they would marry a maiden; [pg 238] if they touched the dirty water, they would wed a widow; and if they touched the empty plate, they would stay single. For a girl, the outcome was similar; she would marry a bachelor, a widower, or nobody, depending on which plate she touched. However, to be sure, the process had to be repeated three times, with the plates' positions changed each time. If the person placed their finger in the same plate two or three times, that was considered definitive.610

The sliced apple. The egg whites in water. The salt cake or salted herring.

These forms of divination in the house were practised by the company in a body; but the following had to be performed by the person alone. You took an apple and stood with it in your hand in front of a looking-glass. Then you sliced the apple, stuck each slice on the point of the knife, and held it over your left shoulder, while you looked into the glass and combed your hair. The spectre of your future husband would then appear in the mirror stretching forth his hand to take the slices of the apple over your shoulder. Some say that the number of slices should be nine, that you should eat the first eight yourself, and only throw the ninth over your left shoulder for your husband; also that at each slice you should say, “In the name of the Father and the Son.”611 Again, take an egg, prick it with a pin, and let the white drop into a wine-glass nearly full of water. Take some of this in your mouth and go out for a walk. The first name you hear called out aloud will be that of your future husband or wife. An old woman told a lady that she had tried this mode of divination in her youth, that the name of Archibald “came up as it were from the very ground,” and that Archibald sure enough was the name of her husband.612 In South Uist and Eriskay, two of the outer Hebrides, a salt cake called Bonnach Salainn is eaten at Hallowe'en to induce dreams that will reveal the future. It is baked of [pg 239] common meal with a great deal of salt. After eating it you may not drink water nor utter a word, not even to say your prayers. A salt herring, eaten bones and all in three bites, is equally efficacious, always provided that you drink no water and hold your tongue.613

These forms of divination at home were done together by the group; however, the following needed to be done alone. You took an apple and stood holding it in front of a mirror. Then you sliced the apple, placed each slice on the knife's tip, and held it over your left shoulder while looking into the mirror and combing your hair. The image of your future husband would then appear in the mirror, reaching out his hand to take the apple slices over your shoulder. Some say you should have nine slices, eat the first eight yourself, and only throw the ninth over your left shoulder for your husband; also, with each slice, you should say, "In the name of the Father and the Son."611 Again, take an egg, prick it with a pin, and let the egg white drop into a wine glass almost full of water. Take some of that in your mouth and go for a walk. The first name you hear called out loud will be the name of your future husband or wife. An old woman told a lady that she had tried this method of divination in her youth, and the name Archibald "it seemed to rise up from the very ground," and sure enough, Archibald was the name of her husband.612 In South Uist and Eriskay, two of the outer Hebrides, a salty cake called Salted Bread is eaten at Hallowe'en to encourage dreams that will reveal the future. It is made from [pg 239] common meal with lots of salt. After eating it, you must not drink water or say a word, not even to pray. A salted herring, eaten bones and all in three bites, is just as effective, as long as you don’t drink water and keep quiet.613

Halloween fires in Wales. Omens taken from stones tossed into the fire. Divination using stones in the ashes.

In the northern part of Wales it used to be customary for every family to make a great bonfire called Coel Coeth on Hallowe'en. The fire was kindled on the most conspicuous spot near the house; and when it had nearly gone out everyone threw into the ashes a white stone, which he had first marked. Then having said their prayers round the fire, they went to bed. Next morning, as soon as they were up, they came to search out the stones, and if any one of them was found to be missing, they had a notion that the person who threw it would die before he saw another Hallowe'en.614 A writer on Wales at the beginning of the nineteenth century says that “the autumnal fire is still kindled in North Wales, being on the eve of the first day of November, and is attended by many ceremonies; such as running through the fire and smoke, each casting a stone into the fire, and all running off at the conclusion to escape from the black short-tailed sow; then supping upon parsnips, nuts, and apples; catching up an apple suspended by a string with the mouth alone, and the same by an apple in a tub of water: each throwing a nut into the fire; and those that burn bright, betoken prosperity to the owners through the following year, but those that burn black and crackle, denote misfortune. On the following morning the stones are searched for in the fire, and if any be missing, they betide ill to those who threw them in.”615 According to Sir John Rhys, the habit of celebrating Hallowe'en by lighting bonfires on the hills is perhaps not yet extinct in Wales, and men still living [pg 240] can remember how the people who assisted at the bonfires would wait till the last spark was out and then would suddenly take to their heels, shouting at the top of their voices, “The cropped black sow seize the hindmost!” The saying, as Sir John Rhys justly remarks, implies that originally one of the company became a victim in dead earnest. Down to the present time the saying is current in Carnarvonshire, where allusions to the cutty black sow are still occasionally made to frighten children.616 We can now understand why in Lower Brittany every person throws a pebble into the midsummer bonfire.617 Doubtless there, as in Wales and the Highlands of Scotland,618 omens of life and death have at one time or other been drawn from the position and state of the pebbles on the morning of All Saints' Day. The custom, thus found among three separate branches of the Celtic stock, probably dates from a period before their dispersion, or at least from a time when alien races had not yet driven home the wedges of separation between them.

In the northern part of Wales, it used to be a tradition for every family to light a large bonfire called Coel Coeth on Hallowe'en. The fire was started in a prominent spot near the house, and when it was almost out, everyone would throw a marked white stone into the ashes. After saying their prayers around the fire, they would go to bed. The next morning, once they were up, they would look for the stones, and if any were missing, they believed that the person who threw it would die before the next Hallowe'en. 614 A writer on Wales at the start of the nineteenth century notes that The autumn fire is still lit in North Wales, as it is the eve of November 1st, and it is accompanied by many traditions; such as running through the fire and smoke, each person throwing a stone into the fire, and everyone running away at the end to escape from the black short-tailed pig; then enjoying a meal of parsnips, nuts, and apples; trying to grab an apple hanging from a string using only their mouth, and doing the same with an apple in a tub of water. Everyone tosses a nut into the fire; those that burn brightly are said to bring prosperity to their owners for the coming year, while those that burn dark and crackle signify misfortune. The next morning, the stones are looked for in the fire, and if any are missing, it means bad luck for those who threw them in. 615 According to Sir John Rhys, the tradition of celebrating Hallowe'en with bonfires on the hills may not be completely gone in Wales, and some people still alive [pg 240] remember how those who participated in the bonfires would wait until the last spark went out and then suddenly run away, shouting loudly, “Get the last one, the cropped black sow!” As Sir John Rhys accurately notes, this saying suggests that originally, someone among them was truly at risk. To this day, the saying is still used in Carnarvonshire, where references to the cutty black sow are occasionally made to scare children. 616 We can now see why in Lower Brittany, every person throws a pebble into the midsummer bonfire. 617 Certainly, there, as in Wales and the Highlands of Scotland, 618 omens of life and death have been interpreted from the placement and condition of the pebbles on All Saints' Day morning. This custom, found among three separate branches of the Celtic lineage, likely dates back to a time before their dispersal, or at least a time when outside races had not yet forced deep divisions between them.

Love and marriage divination at Halloween in Wales.

In Wales, as in Scotland, Hallowe'en was also the great season for forecasting the future in respect of love and marriage, and some of the forms of divination employed for this purpose resembled those which were in use among the Scotch peasantry. Two girls, for example, would make a little ladder of yarn, without breaking it from the ball, and having done so they would throw it out of the window. Then one of the girls, holding the ball in her hand, would wind the yarn back, repeating a rhyme in Welsh. This she did thrice, and as she wound the yarn she would see her future husband climbing up the little ladder. Again, three bowls or basins were placed on a table. One of them contained clean water, one dirty water, and one was empty. The girls of the household, and sometimes the boys too, then eagerly tried their fortunes. They were blindfolded, led up to the table, and dipped their hands into a bowl. If they happened to dip into the clean water, they would marry maidens or bachelors; if into the dirty water, they would be widowers or widows; if into the empty bowl, they would [pg 241] live unmarried. Again, if a girl, walking backwards, would place a knife among the leeks on Hallowe'en, she would see her future husband come and pick up the knife and throw it into the middle of the garden.619

In Wales, just like in Scotland, Halloween was a major time for predicting the future in terms of love and marriage. Some of the methods of divination used for this purpose were similar to those practiced by the Scottish peasants. For instance, two girls would create a small ladder out of yarn, making sure not to cut the yarn from the ball. Once they finished, they would throw it out of the window. Then one girl, holding the ball, would rewind the yarn while reciting a rhyme in Welsh. She would do this three times, and as she rewound the yarn, she would see her future husband climbing up the little ladder. Additionally, three bowls or basins were placed on a table. One contained clean water, another had dirty water, and the last one was empty. The girls from the household, and sometimes the boys as well, would eagerly try to see their fortunes. They would be blindfolded, led to the table, and dip their hands into a bowl. If they dipped into the clean water, they would marry maidens or bachelors; if they touched the dirty water, they would become widows or widowers; and if they reached into the empty bowl, they would remain unmarried. Moreover, if a girl walked backward and placed a knife among the leeks on Halloween, she would see her future husband come, pick up the knife, and throw it into the center of the garden.

Divination on Halloween in Ireland.

In Ireland the Hallowe'en bonfires would seem to have died out, but the Hallowe'en divination has survived. Writing towards the end of the eighteenth century, General Vallancey tells us that on Hallowe'en or the vigil of Saman, as he calls it, “the peasants in Ireland assemble with sticks and clubs (the emblems of laceration) going from house to house, collecting money, bread-cake, butter, cheese, eggs, etc., etc., for the feast, repeating verses in honour of the solemnity, demanding preparations for the festival, in the name of St. Columb Kill, desiring them to lay aside the fatted calf, and to bring forth the black sheep. The good women are employed in making the griddle cake and candles; these last are sent from house to house in the vicinity, and are lighted up on the (Saman) next day, before which they pray, or are supposed to pray, for the departed souls of the donor. Every house abounds in the best viands they can afford: apples and nuts are devoured in abundance: the nut-shells are burnt, and from the ashes many strange things are foretold: cabbages are torn up by the root: hemp seed is sown by the maidens, and they believe, that if they look back, they will see the apparition of the man intended for their future spouse: they hang a smock before the fire, on the close of the feast, and sit up all night, concealed in a corner of the room, convinced that his apparition will come down the chimney and turn the smock: they throw a ball of yarn out of the window, and wind it on the reel within, convinced, that if they repeat the Pater Noster backwards, and look at the ball of yarn without, they will then also see his sith or apparition: they dip for apples in a tub of water, and endeavour to bring one up in the mouth: they suspend a cord with a cross-stick, with apples at one point, and candles lighted at the other, and endeavour to catch the apple, while it is in a circular motion, in the mouth. These, and many other superstitious ceremonies, the remains of Druidism, are [pg 242] observed on this holiday, which will never be eradicated, while the name of Saman is permitted to remain.”620

In Ireland, the Hallowe'en bonfires seem to have faded away, but the Hallowe'en divination traditions are still around. Writing towards the end of the eighteenth century, General Vallancey tells us that on Hallowe'en, or the vigil of Saman as he calls it, The people in Ireland gather with sticks and clubs (symbols of sacrifice), going from house to house, collecting money, bread, butter, cheese, eggs, and more for the feast. They recite verses in honor of the occasion, asking for preparations for the festival in the name of St. Columb Kill, urging everyone to set aside the fatted calf and bring out the black sheep. The good women are busy making griddle cakes and candles, which are sent from house to house in the area and lit the next day (Saman). They pray, or are believed to pray, for the souls of the deceased donors. Every home is filled with the best food they can afford: there are plenty of apples and nuts consumed; the nut shells are burned, and from the ashes, many strange predictions are made. Cabbages are uprooted, and maidens sow hemp seeds, believing that if they look back, they will see the ghost of the man meant to be their future spouse. They hang a smock in front of the fire at the end of the feast and stay up all night, hidden in a corner of the room, convinced that his ghost will come down the chimney and turn the smock. They throw a ball of yarn out the window and wind it on a reel inside, believing that if they say the Pater Noster backwards and look at the ball of yarn outside, they will also see his sith or ghost. They dip for apples in a tub of water, trying to bring one up with their mouth. They hang a cord with a cross stick, with apples on one end and candles lit on the other, trying to catch the apple in their mouth while it spins around. These, along with many other superstitious rituals, remnants of Druidism, are observed on this holiday, which will never be erased as long as the name Saman is allowed to remain.620

Divination at Halloween in Queen's County. Divination at Halloween in County Leitrim. Divination at Halloween in County Roscommon.

In Queen's County, Ireland, down to the latter part of the nineteenth century children practised various of these rites of divination on Hallowe'en. Girls went out into the garden blindfold and pulled up cabbages: if the cabbage was well grown, the girl would have a handsome husband, but if it had a crooked stalk, the future spouse would be a stingy old man. Nuts, again, were placed in pairs on the bar of the fire, and from their behaviour omens were drawn of the fate in love and marriage of the couple whom they represented. Lead, also, was melted and allowed to drop into a tub of cold water, and from the shapes which it assumed in the water predictions were made to the children of their future destiny. Again, apples were bobbed for in a tub of water and brought up with the teeth; or a stick was hung from a hook with an apple at one end and a candle at the other, and the stick being made to revolve you made a bite at the apple and sometimes got a mouthful of candle instead.621 In County Leitrim, also, down to near the end of the nineteenth century various forms of divination were practised at Hallowe'en. Girls ascertained the character of their future husbands by the help of cabbages just as in Queen's County. Again, if a girl found a branch of a briar-thorn which had bent over and grown into the ground so as to form a loop, she would creep through the loop thrice late in the evening in the devil's name, then cut the briar and put it under her pillow, all without speaking a word. Then she would lay her head on the pillow and dream of the man she was to marry. Boys, also, would dream in like manner of love and marriage at Hallowe'en, if only they would gather ten leaves of ivy without speaking, throw away one, and put the other nine under their pillow. Again, divination was practised by means of a cake called barm-breac, in which a nut and a ring were baked. Whoever got the ring would be married first; whoever got the nut would marry a widow or a widower; but if the nut were an empty shell, he or she [pg 243] would remain unwed. Again, a girl would take a clue of worsted, go to a lime kiln in the gloaming, and throw the clew into the kiln in the devil's name, while she held fast the other end of the thread. Then she would rewind the thread and ask, “Who holds my clue?” and the name of her future husband would come up from the depth of the kiln. Another way was to take a rake, go to a rick and walk round it nine times, saying, “I rake this rick in the devil's name.” At the ninth time the wraith of your destined partner for life would come and take the rake out of your hand. Once more, before the company separated for the night, they would rake the ashes smooth on the hearth, and search them next morning for tracks, from which they judged whether anybody should come to the house, or leave it, or die in it before another year was out.622 In County Roscommon, which borders on County Leitrim, a cake is made in nearly every house on Hallowe'en, and a ring, a coin, a sloe, and a chip of wood are put into it. Whoever gets the coin will be rich; whoever gets the ring will be married first; whoever gets the chip of wood, which stands for a coffin, will die first; and whoever gets the sloe will live longest, because the fairies blight the sloes in the hedges on Hallowe'en, so that the sloe in the cake will be the last of the year. Again, on the same mystic evening girls take nine grains of oats in their mouths, and going out without speaking walk about till they hear a man's name pronounced; it will be the name of their future husband. In County Roscommon, too, on Hallowe'en there is the usual dipping in water for apples or sixpences, and the usual bites at a revolving apple and tallow candle.623

In Queen's County, Ireland, up until the late nineteenth century, children participated in various divination rituals on Hallowe'en. Girls would go into the garden blindfolded and pull up cabbages: if the cabbage was well-grown, the girl would have a handsome husband, but if it had a crooked stalk, her future spouse would be a stingy old man. Nuts were also placed in pairs on the fire, and by observing their behavior, omens were interpreted about the love and marriage fate of the couple they represented. Additionally, lead was melted and allowed to drop into a tub of cold water, and from the shapes it formed, children would receive predictions about their future. Apples were bobbed for in a tub of water, retrieved with their teeth, or a stick was hung from a hook with an apple on one end and a candle on the other. As the stick revolved, they would take a bite of the apple, sometimes ending up with a mouthful of candle instead. In County Leitrim, similar divination methods persisted until nearly the end of the nineteenth century. Girls would determine the character of their future husbands using cabbages just like in Queen's County. If a girl found a bent briar-thorn branch that had looped into the ground, she would crawl through it three times at night in the devil's name, then cut the briar and place it under her pillow without saying a word. She would then lay her head on the pillow and dream about the man she would marry. Boys could also dream about love and marriage at Hallowe'en if they gathered ten ivy leaves without speaking, discarded one, and placed the remaining nine under their pillow. Divination was also performed with a cake called spicy fruitcake, which contained a nut and a ring. Whoever found the ring would marry first; whoever found the nut would marry a widow or widower; but if the nut was just an empty shell, they would remain single. A girl might also take a ball of yarn, go to a lime kiln at dusk, and throw the yarn into the kiln in the devil's name, while holding onto the other end. When she rewound the thread, she would ask, “Who has my clue?” and the name of her future husband would emerge from the kiln. Another method involved using a rake to walk around a haystack nine times while saying, "I rake this hay in the devil's name." On the ninth round, the spirit of her destined partner would come and take the rake from her. Before the group ended their evening, they would smooth the ashes on the hearth and check for tracks the next morning, determining whether anyone would come to the house, leave it, or die there before the year was out. In County Roscommon, bordering County Leitrim, a cake is traditionally made in nearly every home on Hallowe'en, and a ring, a coin, a sloe, and a piece of wood are hidden inside. The person who finds the coin will become wealthy; the one who finds the ring will marry first; the one who finds the wood chip, representing a coffin, will die first; and whoever gets the sloe will live the longest, as fairies blight the sloes in the hedges on Hallowe'en, making the sloe in the cake the last of the year. On the same mystical evening, girls also take nine grains of oats into their mouths, walking silently until they hear a man's name spoken; it will be the name of their future husband. In County Roscommon, Hallowe'en also features the usual apple bobbing and the typical bites from a revolving apple and tallow candle.

Halloween fires on the Isle of Man. Divination at Halloween on the Isle of Man.

In the Isle of Man also, another Celtic country, Hallowe'en was celebrated down to modern times by the kindling of fires, accompanied with all the usual ceremonies designed to prevent the baneful influence of fairies and witches. Bands of young men perambulated the island by night, and at the door of every dwelling-house they struck up a Manx rhyme, beginning

In the Isle of Man, another Celtic region, Hallowe'en has continued to be celebrated into modern times with the lighting of bonfires, along with all the customary rituals meant to ward off the harmful effects of fairies and witches. Groups of young men roamed the island at night, and at the entrance of every home, they would recite a Manx rhyme, starting with

“Nothing like a party”
[pg 244]

that is to say, “This is Hollantide Eve.” For Hollantide is the Manx way of expressing the old English All hallowen tide, that is, All Saints' Day, the first of November. But as the people reckon this festival according to the Old Style, Hollantide in the Isle of Man is our twelfth of November. The native Manx name for the day is Sauin or Laa Houney. Potatoes, parsnips and fish, pounded up together and mixed with butter, formed the proper evening meal (mrastyr) on Hallowe'en in the Isle of Man.624 Here, too, as in Scotland forms of divination are practised by some people on this important evening. For example, the housewife fills a thimble full of salt for each member of the family and each guest; the contents of the thimblefuls are emptied out in as many neat little piles on a plate, and left there over night. Next morning the piles are examined, and if any of them has fallen down, he or she whom it represents will die within the year. Again, the women carefully sweep out the ashes from under the fireplace and flatten them down neatly on the open hearth. If they find next morning a footprint turned towards the door, it signifies a death in the family within the year; but if the footprint is turned in the opposite direction, it bodes a marriage. Again, divination by eavesdropping is practised in the Isle of Man in much the same way as in Scotland. You go out with your mouth full of water and your hands full of salt and listen at a neighbour's door, and the first name you hear will be the name of your husband. Again, Manx maids bandage their eyes and grope about the room till they dip their hands in vessels full of clean or dirty water, and so on; and from the thing they touch they draw corresponding omens. But some people in the Isle of Man observe these auguries, not on Hallowe'en or Hollantide Eve, as they call it, which was the old Manx New Year's Eve, but on the modern New Year's Eve, that is, on the thirty-first of December. The change no doubt marks a transition from the ancient to the modern mode of dating the beginning of the year.625

that is to say, “This is Halloween Eve.” For Hollantide is the Manx way of expressing the old English All Halloween tide, which means All Saints' Day, the first of November. But since the people celebrate this festival according to the Old Style, Hollantide in the Isle of Man falls on the twelfth of November. The native Manx name for the day is Sauin or Laa Houney. Potatoes, parsnips and fish, mashed together and mixed with butter, made up the traditional evening meal (mrastyr) on Hallowe'en in the Isle of Man.624 Here, like in Scotland, some people practice forms of divination on this important evening. For example, the housewife fills a thimble full of salt for each family member and guest; the contents of the thimbles are emptied into neat little piles on a plate and left overnight. The next morning, the piles are checked, and if any of them have fallen over, the person they represent will die within the year. Additionally, the women carefully sweep out the ashes from under the fireplace and flatten them down on the open hearth. If they find a footprint facing the door the next morning, it signifies a death in the family within the year; but if the footprint is turned the other way, it suggests a marriage. Also, divination by eavesdropping is performed in the Isle of Man in much the same way as in Scotland. You go out with your mouth full of water and your hands full of salt and listen at a neighbor's door, and the first name you hear will be the name of your husband. Furthermore, Manx maids blindfold themselves and feel around the room until they dip their hands into containers of clean or dirty water, and so on; and from what they touch, they interpret omens. But some people in the Isle of Man observe these omens, not on Hallowe'en or Hollantide Eve, as they call it, which used to be the old Manx New Year's Eve, but on modern New Year's Eve, that is, on the thirty-first of December. This change probably reflects a transition from the ancient to the modern way of marking the start of the year.625

Halloween fires and divination in Lancashire. Candles lit to ward off witches. Divination on Halloween in Northumberland. Halloween fires in France.

In Lancashire, also, some traces of the old Celtic celebration [pg 245] of Hallowe'en have been reported in modern times. It is said that “fires are still lighted in Lancashire, on Hallowe'en, under the name of Beltains or Teanlas; and even such cakes as the Jews are said to have made in honour of the Queen of Heaven, are yet to be found at this season amongst the inhabitants of the banks of the Ribble.... Both the fires and the cakes, however, are now connected with superstitious notions respecting Purgatory, etc.”626 On Hallowe'en, too, the Lancashire maiden “strews the ashes which are to take the form of one or more letters of her lover's name; she throws hemp-seed over her shoulder and timidly glances to see who follows her.”627 Again, witches in Lancashire used to gather on Hallowe'en at the Malkin Tower, a ruined and desolate farm-house in the forest of Pendle. They assembled for no good purpose; but you could keep the infernal rout at bay by carrying a lighted candle about the fells from eleven to twelve o'clock at night. The witches tried to blow out the candle, and if they succeeded, so much the worse for you; but if the flame burned steadily till the clocks had struck midnight, you were safe. Some people performed the ceremony by deputy; and parties went about from house to house in the evening collecting candles, one for each inmate, and offering their services to late or leet the witches, as the phrase ran. This custom was practised at Longridge Fell in the early part of the nineteenth century.628 In Northumberland on Hallowe'en omens of marriage were drawn from nuts thrown into the fire; and the sports of ducking for apples and biting at a revolving apple and lighted candle were also practised on that evening.629 The equivalent of the Hallowe'en bonfires is reported also from France. We are told that in the department of Deux-Sèvres, [pg 246] which forms part of the old province of Poitou, young people used to assemble in the fields on All Saints' Day (the first of November) and kindle great fires of ferns, thorns, leaves, and stubble, at which they roasted chestnuts. They also danced round the fires and indulged in noisy pastimes.630

In Lancashire, some remnants of the old Celtic celebration of Hallowe'en have been seen in modern times. It’s said that “fires are still lit in Lancashire on Hallowe'en, called Beltains or Teanlas; and even cakes reminiscent of those the Jews are said to have made in honor of the Queen of Heaven are still found among the residents along the banks of the Ribble.... Both the fires and the cakes are now linked to superstitions about Purgatory, etc.” On Hallowe'en, the young women of Lancashire “scatter ashes to form one or more letters of their lover's name; she throws hemp-seed over her shoulder and nervously looks to see who follows her.” Additionally, witches in Lancashire used to meet on Hallowe'en at Malkin Tower, a ruined and lonely farmhouse in the Pendle forest. They gathered with malicious intent, but you could fend off the hellish gathering by carrying a lit candle around the hills from eleven to midnight. The witches attempted to blow out the candle, and if they did, you were in trouble; but if the flame kept burning steadily until the clock struck midnight, you were safe. Some people had others perform the ritual for them; groups would go from house to house in the evening to collect candles, one for each person, and offer their services to “late” or “leet” the witches, as the saying went. This custom was practiced at Longridge Fell in the early nineteenth century. In Northumberland on Hallowe'en, people would predict marriage using nuts tossed into the fire, and they also participated in games like bobbing for apples and trying to take a bite from a spinning apple with a lit candle on it. Similarly, the equivalent of Hallowe'en bonfires has been reported in France. In the Deux-Sèvres department, part of the old province of Poitou, young people used to gather in the fields on All Saints' Day (November 1st) and light large fires made of ferns, thorns, leaves, and stubble, where they roasted chestnuts. They also danced around the fires and engaged in lively activities.

§ 7. The Midwinter Bonfires.

A midwinter fire festival. Christmas is the continuation of an ancient pagan festival celebrating the sun.

If the heathen of ancient Europe celebrated, as we have good reason to believe, the season of Midsummer with a great festival of fire, of which the traces have survived in many places down to our own time, it is natural to suppose that they should have observed with similar rites the corresponding season of Midwinter; for Midsummer and Midwinter, or, in more technical language, the summer solstice and the winter solstice, are the two great turning-points in the sun's apparent course through the sky, and from the standpoint of primitive man nothing might seem more appropriate than to kindle fires on earth at the two moments when the fire and heat of the great luminary in heaven begin to wane or to wax. In this way the savage philosopher, to whose meditations on the nature of things we owe many ancient customs and ceremonies, might easily imagine that he helped the labouring sun to relight his dying lamp, or at all events to blow up the flame into a brighter blaze. Certain it is that the winter solstice, which the ancients erroneously assigned to the twenty-fifth of December, was celebrated in antiquity as the Birthday of the Sun, and that festal lights or fires were kindled on this joyful occasion. Our Christmas festival is nothing but a continuation under a Christian name of this old solar festivity; for the ecclesiastical authorities saw fit, about the end of the third or the beginning of the fourth century, arbitrarily to transfer the nativity of Christ from the sixth of January to the twenty-fifth of December, for the purpose of diverting to their Lord the worship which the heathen had hitherto paid on that day to the sun.631

If the pagans of ancient Europe celebrated, as we have good reason to believe, Midsummer with a big fire festival, traces of which have survived in many places even today, it makes sense to think they also recognized Midwinter with similar rituals. Midsummer and Midwinter, or more technically, the summer solstice and winter solstice, are the two main turning points in the sun's journey across the sky. From the perspective of primitive people, it would seem fitting to light fires on earth at the times when the sun's light and warmth start to fade or intensify. In this way, the primitive thinker, whose ideas have contributed to many ancient customs and ceremonies, might have imagined he was helping the struggling sun reignite its dying light, or at least make it burn brighter. It’s certain that the winter solstice, which the ancients mistakenly marked as December 25th, was celebrated in ancient times as the Birthday of the Sun, with festive lights or fires lit for this happy event. Our Christmas celebration is just a continuation, under a Christian name, of this old solar festival; as church leaders decided, around the late third or early fourth century, to move the celebration of Christ's birth from January 6th to December 25th, aiming to redirect the worship that pagans had traditionally given to the sun on that day. 631

[pg 247]

The Yule log is the winter equivalent of the summer bonfire.

In modern Christendom the ancient fire-festival of the winter solstice appears to survive, or to have survived down to recent years, in the old custom of the Yule log, clog, or block, as it was variously called in England.632 The custom was widespread in Europe, but seems to have flourished especially in England, France, and among the South Slavs; at least the fullest accounts of the custom come from these quarters. That the Yule log was only the winter counterpart of the Midsummer bonfire, kindled within doors instead of in the open air on account of the cold and inclement weather of the season, was pointed out long ago by our English antiquary John Brand;633 and the view is supported by the many quaint superstitions attaching to the Yule log, superstitions which have no apparent connexion with Christianity but carry their heathen origin plainly stamped upon them. But while the two solstitial celebrations were both festivals of fire, the necessity or desirability of holding the winter celebration within doors lent it the character of a private or domestic festivity, which contrasts strongly with the publicity of the summer celebration, at which the people gathered on some open space or conspicuous height, kindled a huge bonfire in common, and danced and made merry round it together.

In today's world, the ancient fire festival of the winter solstice seems to live on in the old tradition of the Yule log, also known as the clog or block, commonly found in England. The custom was widespread across Europe but appears to have thrived particularly in England, France, and among the South Slavs; the most detailed accounts of the custom come from these regions. It was noted long ago by the English antiquarian John Brand that the Yule log served as the winter version of the Midsummer bonfire, lit indoors instead of outside due to the cold and harsh winter weather. This idea is supported by the many odd superstitions associated with the Yule log, which have no clear connection to Christianity and clearly show their pagan origins. However, while both solstice celebrations were fire festivals, the need to hold the winter celebration indoors gave it a more private or family-oriented vibe, which is a stark contrast to the summer celebration where people gathered in open spaces or on high ground, lit a large bonfire together, and danced and enjoyed themselves around it.

The Yule log in Germany and Switzerland.

Among the Germans the custom of the Yule log is known to have been observed in the eleventh century; for in the year 1184 the parish priest of Ahlen, in Münsterland, spoke of “bringing a tree to kindle the festal fire at the Lord's Nativity.”634 Down to about the middle of the nineteenth century the old rite was kept up in some parts of central Germany, as we learn from an account of it given by a contemporary writer. After mentioning the custom of [pg 248] feeding the cattle and shaking the fruit-trees on Christmas night, to make them bear fruit, he goes on as follows: “Other customs pointing back to the far-off times of heathendom may still be met with among the old-fashioned peasants of the mountain regions. Such is in the valleys of the Sieg and Lahn the practice of laying a new log as a foundation of the hearth. A heavy block of oak-wood, generally a stump grubbed up from the ground, is fitted either into the floor of the hearth, or into a niche made for the purpose in the wall under the hook on which the kettle hangs. When the fire on the hearth glows, this block of wood glows too, but it is so placed that it is hardly reduced to ashes within a year. When the new foundation is laid, the remains of the old block are carefully taken out, ground to powder, and strewed over the fields during the Twelve Nights. This, so people fancied, promotes the fruitfulness of the year's crops.”635 In some parts of the Eifel Mountains, to the west of Coblentz, a log of wood called the Christbrand used to be placed on the hearth on Christmas Eve; and the charred remains of it on Twelfth Night were put in the corn-bin to keep the mice from devouring the corn.636 At Weidenhausen and Girkshausen, in Westphalia, the practice was to withdraw the Yule log (Christbrand) from the fire so soon as it was slightly charred; it was then kept carefully to be replaced on the fire whenever a thunder-storm broke, because the people believed that lightning would not strike a house in which the Yule log was smouldering.637 In some villages near Berleburg in Westphalia the old custom was to tie up the Yule log in the last sheaf cut at harvest.638 On Christmas Eve the peasantry of the Oberland, in Meiningen, a province of Central Germany, used to put a great block of wood called the Christklotz on the fire before they went to bed; it should burn all night, and the charred remains were believed to guard the house for the whole year against the risk of [pg 249] fire, burglary, and other misfortunes.639 The Yule log seems to be known only in the French-speaking parts of Switzerland, where it goes by the usual French name of Bûche de Noël. In the Jura mountains of the canton of Bern, while the log is burning on the hearth the people sing a blessing over it as follows:—

Among the Germans, the tradition of the Yule log is known to have been practiced since the eleventh century; in 1184, the parish priest of Ahlen in Münsterland mentioned “bringing a tree to light the festive fire at the Lord's Nativity.” Up until about the mid-nineteenth century, this old rite continued in some areas of central Germany, as noted by a contemporary writer. After describing the custom of feeding cattle and shaking fruit trees on Christmas night to encourage them to bear fruit, he adds: “Other traditions that date back to ancient pagan times can still be found among the traditional peasants in the mountain regions. For instance, in the valleys of the Sieg and Lahn, there is the custom of laying a new log as the foundation for the hearth. A heavy chunk of oak, usually an uprooted stump, is either placed directly on the hearth floor or in a special niche made in the wall under the hook where the kettle hangs. When the hearth fire burns, this block of wood glows as well, but it is positioned so that it hardly turns to ashes within a year. When the new foundation is laid, the remnants of the old block are carefully removed, ground to powder, and scattered over the fields during the Twelve Nights. This was believed to enhance the fertility of the year’s crops.” In some areas of the Eifel Mountains, west of Coblentz, a piece of wood called the Christbrand was placed on the hearth on Christmas Eve; the burnt remnants were stored in the grain bin on Twelfth Night to prevent mice from eating the grain. In Weidenhausen and Girkshausen, Westphalia, the practice was to take the Yule log (Christbrand) out of the fire as soon as it started to char; it was then kept carefully to be put back on the fire whenever a thunderstorm approached, as people believed that lightning wouldn’t strike a house where the Yule log was smoldering. In some villages near Berleburg in Westphalia, the old tradition involved tying the Yule log to the last sheaf harvested. On Christmas Eve, the farmers in the Oberland, in Meiningen, a province of Central Germany, would place a large block of wood known as the Christklotz on the fire before going to bed; it was meant to burn all night, and the ash left was thought to protect the house for the entire year from fire, theft, and other misfortunes. The Yule log seems to be known only in the French-speaking areas of Switzerland, where it is referred to as the Bûche de Noël. In the Jura mountains of the canton of Bern, while the log burns on the hearth, people sing a blessing over it as follows:—

“May the log burn!”
May all good things come in!
Hope the women have kids
And the lambs!
White bread for everyone
And the vat filled with wine!

The embers of the Yule log were kept carefully, for they were believed to be a protection against lightning.640

The ashes of the Yule log were carefully preserved because they were thought to protect against lightning.640

The Yule log in Belgium.

“The Christmas fires, which were formerly lit everywhere in the Low Countries, have fallen into disuse. But in Flanders a great log of wood, called the kersavondblok and usually cut from the roots of a fir or a beech, is still put on the fire; all the lights in the house are extinguished, and the whole family gathers round the log to spend part of the night in singing, in telling stories, especially about ghosts, were-wolves, and so on, and also in drinking gin. At Grammont and in the neighbourhood of that town, where the Yule log is called Kersmismot, it is customary to set fire to the remainder of the gin at the moment when the log is reduced to ashes. Elsewhere a piece of the log is kept and put under the bed to protect the house against thunder and lightning. The charcoal of the log which burned during Christmas Night, if pounded up and mixed with water, is a cure for consumption. In the country of Limburg the log burns several nights, and the pounded charcoal is kept as a preventive (so they say), of toothache.”641

The Christmas fires that used to be lit everywhere in the Low Countries are now a thing of the past. However, in Flanders, a large log of wood, known as the kersavondblok, typically taken from the roots of a fir or beech tree, is still placed on the fire. All the lights in the house are turned off, and the whole family gathers around the log to spend part of the night singing, telling stories—especially scary tales about ghosts, werewolves, and similar things—and drinking gin. In Grammont and the surrounding area, where the Yule log is called Kersmismot, it's traditional to ignite the leftover gin as the log turns to ashes. In other places, a piece of the log is kept under the bed to protect the house from thunder and lightning. The charred remains of the log that burned on Christmas Night, when crushed and mixed with water, are said to cure tuberculosis. In Limburg, the log burns for several nights, and the crushed charcoal is kept as a remedy (or so they say) for toothaches.641

The Yule log in France.

In several provinces of France, and particularly in Provence, the custom of the Yule log or tréfoir, as it was called in many places, was long observed. A French [pg 250] writer of the seventeenth century tells us that on Christmas Eve the log was prepared, and when the whole family had assembled in the kitchen or parlour of the house, they went and brought it in, walking in procession and singing Provençal verses to the following effect:—

In several provinces of France, especially in Provence, the tradition of the Yule log, or tréfoir, was practiced for a long time. A French [pg 250] writer from the seventeenth century tells us that on Christmas Eve, the log was prepared, and when the whole family had gathered in the kitchen or living room, they would bring it in, walking in a procession and singing Provençal verses that went something like this:—

“Let the log celebrate,”
Tomorrow is bread day;
Welcome all the good here;
Let women have children;
Let the female goats have their kids;
Let the ewes have lambs;
May there be an abundance of wheat and flour,
And the vat filled with wine.

Then the log was blessed by the smallest and youngest child of the house, who poured a glass of wine over it saying, In nomine patris, etc.; after which the log was set on the fire. The charcoal of the burnt wood was kept the whole year, and used as an ingredient in several remedies.642

Then the log was blessed by the smallest and youngest child of the house, who poured a glass of wine over it saying, In the name of the Father, etc.; after that, the log was placed on the fire. The charcoal from the burnt wood was kept all year and used as an ingredient in several remedies.642

French superstitions about the Yule log.

Amongst the superstitions denounced by the same writer is “the belief that a log called the trefoir or Christmas brand, which you put on the fire for the first time on Christmas Eve and continue to put on the fire for a little while every day till Twelfth Night, can, if kept under the bed, protect the house for a whole year from fire and thunder; that it can prevent the inmates from having chilblains on their heels in winter; that it can cure the cattle of many maladies; that if a piece of it be steeped in the water which cows drink it helps them to calve; and lastly that if the ashes of the log be strewn on the fields it can save the wheat from mildew.”643

Among the superstitions rejected by the same writer is The belief is that a log called the trefoir or Christmas log, which you place on the fire for the first time on Christmas Eve and then keep adding to the fire for a little while each day until Twelfth Night, can protect the house for a whole year from fire and thunder if kept under the bed; that it can prevent the people living there from getting chilblains on their heels during winter; that it can cure cattle of various illnesses; that soaking a piece of it in the water the cows drink helps them to calve; and lastly, that spreading the ashes of the log on the fields can protect the wheat from mildew.643

The Yule log in Marseilles and Perigord. The benefits attributed to the charcoal and ashes of the burnt log. The Yule log in Berry.

In Marseilles the Yule log used to be a great block of oak, which went by the name of calendeau or calignau; it was sprinkled with wine and oil, and the head of the house kindled it himself.644 “The Yule log plays a great part at the festival of the winter solstice in Perigord. The countryman thinks that it is best made of plum-tree, cherry, or oak, and [pg 251] that the larger it is the better. If it burns well, it is a good omen, the blessing of heaven rests upon it. The charcoal and ashes, which are collected very carefully, are excellent for healing swollen glands; the part of the trunk which has not been burnt in the fire is used by ploughmen to make the wedge (técoin ou cale) for their plough, because they allege that it causes the seeds to thrive better; and the women keep pieces of it till Twelfth Night for the sake of their chickens. Nevertheless if you sit down on the log, you become subject to boils, and to cure yourself of them you must pass nine times under a bramble branch which happens to be rooted in the ground at both ends. The charcoal heals sheep of a disease called the goumon; and the ashes, carefully wrapt up in white linen, preserve the whole household from accidents. Some people think that they will have as many chickens as there are sparks that fly out of the brands of the log when they shake them; and others place the extinct brands under the bed to drive away vermin. In Vienne, on Christmas Eve, when supper is over, the master of the house has a great log—the Christmas brand—brought in, and then, surrounded by all the spectators gathered in profound silence, he sprinkles salt and water on the log. It is then put on the fire to burn during the three festivals; but they carefully preserve a piece to be kindled every time that it thunders.”645 In Berry, a district of Central France, the Yule log was called the cosse de Nau, the last word being an abbreviation of the usual French word for Christmas (Noël). It consisted of an enormous tree-trunk, so heavy that the united strength of several men was needed to carry it in and place it on the hearth, where it served to feed the fire during the three days of the Christmas festivity. Strictly speaking, it should be the trunk of an old oak-tree which had never been lopped and had been felled at midnight. It [pg 252] was placed on the hearth at the moment when the tinkle of the bell announced the elevation of the host at the midnight mass; and the head of the family, after sprinkling it with holy water, set it on fire. The remains of the log were preserved till the same day next year. They were kept under the bed of the master of the house; and whenever thunder was heard, one of the family would take a piece of the log and throw it on the fire, which was believed to guard the family against lightning. In the Middle Ages, we are told, several fiefs were granted on condition that the vassal should bring in person a Yule log every year for the hearth of his liege lord.646

In Marseilles, the Yule log used to be a big block of oak known as calendeau or calignau. It was sprinkled with wine and oil, and the head of the house would light it himself.644 The Yule log has an important place in the winter solstice festival in Perigord. Locals believe it should be made from plum, cherry, or oak, and that a larger log is better. If it burns well, it’s seen as a good omen, indicating divine blessing. The charcoal and ashes, which are carefully collected, are effective for treating swollen glands. Farmers use the unburned part of the trunk to make a wedge (__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__) for their plow, believing it helps seeds grow better. Women keep pieces of it until Twelfth Night for their chickens. However, if you sit on the log, you'll get boils, and to heal them, you must pass under a bramble branch that is rooted at both ends nine times. The charcoal cures sheep of a disease called __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__; and the ashes, wrapped in white linen, protect the whole household from accidents. Some people believe they will have as many chickens as the sparks that fly from the log when shaken; others place the burnt bits under their bed to keep pests away. In Vienne, on Christmas Eve, after dinner, the head of the household brings in a large log—the Christmas brand—and, in front of all the onlookers, he sprinkles salt and water on the log in deep silence. It’s then placed on the fire to burn during the three festivals, but a piece is carefully saved to light every time there’s thunder.645 In Berry, a region in Central France, the Yule log was called Nau's cask, with the last word being a shortening of the usual French word for Christmas (Noël). It was an enormous tree trunk, so heavy that it took the combined strength of several men to bring it in and place it on the hearth, where it would fuel the fire throughout the three days of Christmas festivities. Strictly speaking, it should be the trunk of an old oak that had never been pruned and was cut down at midnight. It [pg 252] was set on the hearth just as the bell rang to signal the elevation of the host at the midnight mass; the head of the family, after sprinkling it with holy water, would set it ablaze. The remnants of the log would be kept until the same day the next year. They were stored under the bed of the head of the house; whenever thunder struck, a family member would take a piece of the log and throw it on the fire, which was thought to protect the family from lightning. In the Middle Ages, it’s said that several fiefs were granted on the condition that the vassal would personally bring a Yule log to the hearth of his liege lord every year.646

The Yule log in Normandy and Brittany.

Similar customs and beliefs survived till recent years in some of the remote country villages of the picturesque district known as the Bocage of Normandy. There it was the grandfather or other oldest man of the family who chose the Yule log in good time and had it ready for Christmas Eve. Then he placed it on the hearth at the moment when the church bell began to ring for the evening service. Kneeling reverently at the hearth with the members of his family in a like attitude of devotion, the old man recited three Pater Nosters and three Aves, and invoked the blessing of heaven on the log and on the cottage. Then at the sound of the bell which proclaimed the sacrament of the mass, or, if the church was too far off to allow the tinkle of the bell to be heard, at the moment when they judged that the priest was elevating the host before the high altar, the patriarch sprinkled the burning log with holy water, blessed it in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and drew it out of the fire. The charred log was then carefully kept till the following Christmas as a precious relic which would guard the house against the levin bolt, evil spirits, sorcerers, and every misfortune that might befall in the course of the year.647 In the department of Orne [pg 253] “the Yule-log is called trefouet; holy water is poured on it; it should last the three days of the festival, and the remains of it are kept to be put on the fire when it thunders. This brand is a protection both against thunder and against sorcerers.”648 In Upper Brittany, also, the Yule log is thought to be a safeguard against thunder and lightning. It is sprinkled with holy water on Christmas morning and allowed to burn till evening. If a piece of it is thrown into the well, it will ensure a supply of good water.649

Similar customs and beliefs continued into recent years in some of the remote country villages of the beautiful Bocage region in Normandy. There, it was the grandfather or the oldest man in the family who selected the Yule log in advance and had it ready for Christmas Eve. He placed it on the hearth just as the church bell began to ring for the evening service. Kneeling respectfully at the hearth with his family also in a posture of devotion, the old man recited three Our Fathers and three Birds, asking for heaven's blessings on the log and their home. Then, at the sound of the bell announcing the sacrament of the mass, or if the church was too distant to hear the bell, at the moment they thought the priest was holding up the host before the altar, the patriarch sprinkled the log with holy water, blessed it in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and took it out of the fire. The charred log was then carefully kept until the next Christmas as a treasured relic believed to protect the house from lightning, evil spirits, sorcerers, and any misfortune that might happen throughout the year.647 In the Orne department [pg 253] “The Yule log is called trefouet; holy water is sprinkled on it; it should last for the three days of the festival, and the leftovers are kept to be thrown on the fire during thunderstorms. This log provides protection against both thunder and witches.”648 In Upper Brittany, the Yule log is also seen as a guard against thunder and lightning. It is sprinkled with holy water on Christmas morning and allowed to burn until evening. If a piece is thrown into the well, it will ensure a good water supply.649

The Yule log in the Ardennes.

“In almost all the families of the Ardennes,” we are told, “at the present day they never fail to put the Yule log on the fireplace, but formerly it was the object of a superstitious worship which is now obsolete. The charred remains of it, placed under the pillow or under the house, preserved the house from storms, and before it was burned the Virgin used to come and sit on it, invisible, swaddling the infant Jesus. At Nouzon, twenty years ago, the traditional log was brought into the kitchen on Christmas Eve, and the grandmother, with a sprig of box in her hand, sprinkled the log with holy water as soon as the clock struck the first stroke of midnight. As she did so she chanted,

"In almost all the families in the Ardennes," we are told, These days, people still make sure to put the Yule log in the fireplace, but in the past, it was treated with a superstitious reverence that isn’t common anymore. The ashes from the log, kept under the pillow or under the house, were believed to protect the home from storms. Before the log was lit, it was said that the Virgin would come and sit on it, unseen, wrapping the infant Jesus. In Nouzon, twenty years ago, the traditional log was brought into the kitchen on Christmas Eve, and the grandmother, holding a sprig of box, sprinkled the log with holy water right at midnight. While doing this, she chanted,

When Christmas arrives,
Everyone should rejoice,
Because it is a New Covenant.

Following the grandmother and joining in the song, the children and the rest of the family marched thrice round the log, which was as fine a log as could be got.”650 We can now, perhaps, understand why in Perigord people who sat on the Yule log suffered from boils,651 and why in Lorraine young folks used to be warned that if they sat on it they would have the scab.652 The reason probably was that the Virgin and child were supposed to be seated, [pg 254] invisible, upon the log and to resent the indignity of contact with mortal children.

After the grandmother and joining in the song, the children and the rest of the family walked around the log three times, which was as great a log as you could find.650 We can now, perhaps, understand why in Perigord people who sat on the Yule log ended up with boils,651 and why in Lorraine young folks were warned that if they sat on it they would get scabs.652 The reason was probably that the Virgin and child were believed to be seated, [pg 254] invisible, on the log and didn’t appreciate being touched by mortal children.

The Yule log in the Vosges. The Yule log in Franche-Comté and Burgundy.

On Christmas Eve the mountaineers of Rupt, in the Vosges, also never fail to put on the hearth the largest log which the hearth can hold; they call it la galeuche de Noë, that is, the Yule log. Next morning they rake the ashes for any charred fragments and keep them as valuable talismans to guard them against the stroke of lightning. At Vagney and other places near it in the Vosges it used to be customary on the same evening to grease the hinges and the latches of the doors, that no harsh grating sound should break the slumbers of the infant Christ. In the Vosges Mountains, too, as indeed in many other places, cattle acquired the gift of speech on Christmas Eve and conversed with each other in the language of Christians. Their conversation was, indeed, most instructive; for the future, it seems, had no secret worth mentioning for them. Yet few people cared to be caught eavesdropping at the byre; wise folk contented themselves with setting a good store of fodder in the manger, then shut the door, and left the animals to their ruminations. A farmer of Vecoux once hid in a corner of the byre to overhear the edifying talk of the beasts. But it did him little good; for one ox said to another ox, “What shall we do to-morrow?” and the other replied, “We shall carry our master to the churchyard.” Sure enough the farmer died that very night and was buried next morning.653 In Franche-Comté, the province of France to the west of the Jura mountains, if the Yule log is really to protect a house against thunder and lightning, it is essential that it should burn during the midnight mass, and that the flame should not go out before the divine service is concluded. Otherwise the log is quite useless for the purpose.654 In Burgundy the log which is placed on the fire on Christmas Eve is called the suche. While it is burning, the father of the family, assisted by his wife and children, sings Christmas carols; and when he has finished, [pg 255] he tells the smallest children to go into a corner of the room and pray God that the log may give them sweeties. The prayer is invariably answered.655

On Christmas Eve, the mountaineers of Rupt, in the Vosges, always make sure to place the biggest log they can fit in the fireplace. They call it Noah's Ark, which means the Yule log. The next morning, they sift through the ashes for any charred pieces and keep them as valuable charms to protect against lightning strikes. In Vagney and other nearby areas in the Vosges, it was customary on that same evening to oil the hinges and latches of doors so that no harsh creaking would disturb the sleep of the infant Christ. In the Vosges Mountains, like in many other places, cattle were said to gain the ability to talk on Christmas Eve and would have conversations with each other in human language. Their discussions were indeed very enlightening, as the future seemed to hold no secrets for them. Yet, few people wanted to be caught listening in at the barn; wise folks simply filled the manger with plenty of hay, shut the door, and left the animals to their thoughts. One farmer from Vecoux once hid in a corner of the barn to overhear the animals' talk. Unfortunately for him, one ox said to another, "What are we doing tomorrow?" and the other replied, "We'll take our master to the cemetery." Sure enough, the farmer died that very night and was buried the next morning.653 In Franche-Comté, a region of France west of the Jura mountains, if the Yule log is truly meant to protect a home from thunder and lightning, it’s crucial that it burns during midnight mass and that the flame doesn’t go out before the service ends. Otherwise, the log is completely ineffective for that purpose.654 In Burgundy, the log placed on the fire on Christmas Eve is called the search. While it burns, the father of the family, assisted by his wife and children, sings Christmas carols; and when he’s done, [pg 255] he tells the youngest kids to go to a corner of the room and pray to God for the log to provide them with treats. The prayer is always answered.655

The Yule log and the Yule candle in England.

In England the customs and beliefs concerning the Yule log, clog, or block, as it was variously called, used to be similar. On the night of Christmas Eve, says the antiquary John Brand, “our ancestors were wont to light up candles of an uncommon size, called Christmas Candles, and lay a log of wood upon the fire, called a Yule-clog or Christmas-block, to illuminate the house, and, as it were, to turn night into day. This custom is, in some measure, still kept up in the North of England. In the buttery of St. John's College, Oxford, an ancient candle-socket of stone still remains ornamented with the figure of the Holy Lamb. It was formerly used to burn the Christmas Candle in, on the high table at supper, during the twelve nights of that festival.”656 “A tall mould candle, called a Yule candle, is lighted and set on the table; these candles are presented by the chandlers and grocers to their customers. The Yule-log is bought of the carpenters' lads. It would be unlucky to light either of them before the time, or to stir the fire or candle during the supper; the candle must not be snuffed, neither must any one stir from the table till supper is ended. In these suppers it is considered unlucky to have an odd number at table. A fragment of the log is occasionally saved, and put under a bed, to remain till next Christmas: it secures the house from fire; a small piece of it thrown into a fire occurring at the house of a neighbour, will quell the raging flame. A piece of the candle should likewise be kept to ensure good luck.”657 In the seventeenth century, as we learn from some verses of Herrick, the English custom was to light the Yule log with a fragment of its predecessor, which had been kept throughout the year for the purpose; where it was so kept, the fiend could do no mischief.658 Indeed the practice of preserving a piece of the [pg 256] Yule-log of one year to light that of the next was observed by at least one family at Cheadle in Staffordshire down to the latter part of the nineteenth century.659

In England, the customs and beliefs around the Yule log, also known as the clog or block, used to be quite similar. On Christmas Eve, as the antiquarian John Brand notes, "Our ancestors would light large candles, called Christmas Candles, and put a log of wood on the fire, known as a Yule-clog or Christmas-block, to illuminate the house and essentially turn night into day. This tradition is still somewhat observed in the North of England. At St. John's College, Oxford, there’s an ancient stone candle holder that features the image of the Holy Lamb. It was once used to hold the Christmas Candle at the high table during the twelve nights of the festival."656 A tall mold candle called a Yule candle is lit and set on the table; these candles are given by chandlers and grocers to their customers. The Yule log is bought from the carpenters' apprentices. It’s considered bad luck to light either one before the right time or to disturb the fire or candle during dinner; the candle should not be snuffed out, and no one should leave the table until dinner is finished. Having an odd number of people at the table during these dinners is seen as unlucky. Sometimes, a piece of the log is kept under the bed until the next Christmas: it protects the house from fire; a small fragment thrown into a neighbor's fire can calm the raging flames. A piece of the candle should also be saved to bring good luck.657 In the seventeenth century, according to verses from Herrick, it was customary in England to light the Yule log with a piece of its predecessor, which had been saved for that purpose throughout the year; where it was kept, no evil could do any harm.658 Indeed, the tradition of saving a piece of the [pg 256] Yule log from one year to light the next was maintained by at least one family in Cheadle, Staffordshire, until the late nineteenth century.659

The Yule log in the North of England, including Lincolnshire, Warwickshire, Shropshire, and Herefordshire. The Yule log in Wales.

In the North of England farm-servants used to lay by a large knotty block of wood for the Christmas fire, and so long as the block lasted they were entitled by custom to ale at their meals. The log was as large as the hearth could hold.660 At Belford, in Northumberland, “the lord of the manor sends round to every house, on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, the Yule Logs—four or five large logs—to be burnt on Christmas Eve and Day. This old custom has always, I am told, been kept up here.”661 The custom of burning the Yule log at Christmas used to be observed in Wensleydale and other parts of Yorkshire, and prudent housewives carefully preserved pieces of the log throughout the year. At Whitby the portions so kept were stowed away under the bed till next Christmas, when they were burnt with the new log; in the interval they were believed to protect the house from conflagration, and if one of them were thrown into the fire, it would quell a raging storm.662 The practice and the belief were similar at Filey on the coast of Yorkshire, where besides the Yule log a tall Yule candle was lit on the same evening.663 In the West Riding, while the log [pg 257] blazed cheerfully, the people quaffed their ale and sang, “Yule! Yule! a pack of new cards and a Christmas stool!”664 At Clee, in Lincolnshire, “when Christmas Eve has come the Yule cake is duly cut and the Yule log lit, and I know of some even middle-class houses where the new log must always rest upon and be lighted by the old one, a small portion of which has been carefully stored away to preserve a continuity of light and heat.”665 At the village of Wootton Wawen in Warwickshire, down to 1759 at least, the Yule-block, as it was called, was drawn into the house by a horse on Christmas Eve “as a foundation for the fire on Christmas Day, and according to the superstition of those times for the twelve days following, as the said block was not to be entirely reduc'd to ashes till that time had passed by.”666 As late as 1830, or thereabout, the scene of lighting the hearth-fire on Christmas Eve, to continue burning throughout the Christmas season, might have been witnessed in the secluded and beautiful hill-country of West Shropshire, from Chirbury and Worthen to Pulverbatch and Pontesbury. The Christmas brand or brund, as they called it, was a great trunk of seasoned oak, holly, yew, or crab-tree, drawn by horses to the farm-house door and thence rolled by means of rollers and levers to the back of the wide open hearth, where the fire was made up in front of it. The embers were raked up to it every night, and it was carefully tended, that it might not go out during the whole Christmas season. All those days no light might be struck, given, or borrowed. Such was the custom at Worthen in the early part of the nineteenth century.667 In Herefordshire the Christmas feast “lasted for twelve days, and no work was [pg 258] done. All houses were, and are now, decorated with sprigs of holly and ivy, which must not be brought in until Christmas Eve. A Yule log, as large as the open hearth could accommodate, was brought into the kitchen of each farmhouse, and smaller ones were used in the cottages. W—— P—— said he had seen a tree drawn into the kitchen at Kingstone Grange years ago by two cart horses; when it had been consumed a small portion was carefully kept to be used for lighting next year's log. ‘Mother always kept it very carefully; she said it was lucky, and kept the house from fire and from lightning.’ It seems to have been the general practice to light it on Christmas Eve.”668 “In many parts of Wales it is still customary to keep part of the Yule-log until the following Christmas Eve ‘for luck.’ It is then put into the fireplace and burnt, but before it is consumed the new log is put on, and thus ‘the old fire and the new’ burn together. In some families this is done from force of habit, and they cannot now tell why they do it; but in the past the observance of this custom was to keep witches away, and doubtless was a survival of fire-worship.”669

In Northern England, farm workers would save a large, knotted block of wood for the Christmas fire, and as long as the block lasted, they were entitled to ale during meals. The log was as big as the hearth could hold. At Belford in Northumberland, "The lord of the manor sends four or five large Yule logs to every house on Christmas Eve to be burned on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. This old tradition has always been kept here." The Yule log burning custom was also observed in Wensleydale and other parts of Yorkshire, where careful housewives saved pieces of the log throughout the year. In Whitby, these pieces were kept under the bed until the next Christmas, when they were burned with the new log; during the year, they were believed to protect the house from fire, and throwing one into the fire was thought to calm a raging storm. This practice and belief were similar in Filey on the Yorkshire coast, where a tall Yule candle was also lit that same evening. In the West Riding, while the log [pg 257] burned cheerfully, people enjoyed their ale and sang, "Yule! Yule! a new deck of cards and a Christmas stool!" In Clee, Lincolnshire, "When Christmas Eve arrives, the Yule cake is sliced, and the Yule log is lit. I know of some middle-class homes where the new log has to be placed on and lit by the old one, a small piece of which is carefully saved to keep a continuity of light and warmth." In the village of Wootton Wawen in Warwickshire, at least until 1759, the Yule block was brought into the house by horse on Christmas Eve “as a base for the fire on Christmas Day, and based on the beliefs of that time, for the twelve days that followed, since the block should not be completely burned to ashes until that period had passed.” As late as 1830 or so, you could have seen the scene of lighting the hearth fire on Christmas Eve, to keep it burning throughout the Christmas season, in the serene and beautiful hills of West Shropshire, from Chirbury and Worthen to Pulverbatch and Pontesbury. The Christmas brand or brund, as they called it, was a large trunk of seasoned oak, holly, yew, or crabapple, drawn by horses to the farmhouse door and then rolled with rollers and levers to the back of the wide open hearth, where the fire was built in front of it. The embers were raked up to it every night, and it was carefully tended to keep it burning throughout the entire Christmas season. During those days, no fire should be struck, used, or borrowed. Such was the custom at Worthen in the early nineteenth century. In Herefordshire, the Christmas feast “lasted twelve days, and no work was [pg 258] done. All houses were, and still are, decorated with holly and ivy, which must not be brought in until Christmas Eve. A Yule log, as large as the open hearth could hold, was brought into the kitchen of each farmhouse, and smaller ones were used in cottages. W—— P—— said he saw a tree brought into the kitchen at Kingstone Grange years ago by two cart horses; when it was burned, a small piece was carefully saved to light next year's log. ‘Mother always kept it very carefully; she said it was lucky and protected the house from fire and lightning.’ It seems to have been common practice to light it on Christmas Eve.” In many areas of Wales, it’s still tradition to keep part of the Yule log until the next Christmas Eve ‘for luck.’ It’s then placed in the fireplace and burned, but before it completely burns, the new log is added so ‘the old fire and the new’ can burn together. For some families, this is simply a habit, and they might not even know why they do it; however, in the past, it was believed that this custom kept witches away and is likely a leftover from fire-worship practices.

The Yule log in Serbia. The cutting down of the oak tree to create the Yule log.

But nowhere, apparently, in Europe is the old heathen ritual of the Yule log preserved to the present day more perfectly than in Servia. At early dawn on Christmas Eve (Badnyi Dan) every peasant house sends two of its strongest young men to the nearest forest to cut down a young oak tree and bring it home. There, after offering up a short prayer or crossing themselves thrice, they throw a handful of wheat on the chosen oak and greet it with the words, “Happy Badnyi day to you!” Then they cut it down, taking care that it shall fall towards the east at the moment when the sun's orb appears over the rim of the eastern horizon. Should the tree fall towards the west, it would be the worst possible omen for the house and its inmates in the ensuing year; and it is also an evil omen if the tree should be caught and stopped in its fall by another tree. It is important [pg 259] to keep and carry home the first chip from the fallen oak. The trunk is sawn into two or three logs, one of them rather longer than the others. A flat, unleavened cake of the purest wheaten flour is brought out of the house and broken on the larger of the logs by a woman. The logs are left for the present to stand outside, leaning on one of the walls of the house. Each of them is called a Yule log (badnyak).

But nowhere, apparently, in Europe is the ancient pagan ritual of the Yule log preserved more perfectly than in Serbia. At dawn on Christmas Eve (Badnyi Dan), every peasant household sends two of its strongest young men to the nearest forest to cut down a young oak tree and bring it home. Once there, after offering a brief prayer or crossing themselves three times, they throw a handful of wheat onto the chosen oak and greet it with the words, “Happy Badnyi Day to you!” Then they cut it down, making sure it falls towards the east at the moment the sun rises over the eastern horizon. If the tree falls towards the west, it would be the worst omen for the household in the coming year; it’s also considered bad luck if the tree gets caught and stopped in its fall by another tree. It’s important to keep and bring home the first chip from the fallen oak. The trunk is cut into two or three logs, one of which is longer than the others. A flat, unleavened cake made of the purest wheat flour is taken out of the house and broken on the larger log by a woman. The logs are temporarily left outside, leaning against one of the walls of the house. Each of them is called a Yule log (badnyak).

Prayers to Colleda.

Meanwhile the children and young people go from house to house singing special songs called Colleda because of an old pagan divinity Colleda, who is invoked in every line. In one of them she is spoken of as “a beautiful little maid”; in another she is implored to make the cows yield milk abundantly. The day is spent in busy preparations. The women bake little cakes of a special sort in the shape of lambs, pigs, and chickens; the men make ready a pig for roasting, for in every Servian house roast pig is the principal dish at Christmas. A bundle of straw, tied with a rope, is brought into the courtyard and left to stand there near the Yule logs.

Meanwhile, the children and young people go from house to house singing special songs called Colleda in honor of an old pagan goddess Colleda, who is mentioned in every line. In one of the songs, she's referred to as “a lovely young maid”; in another, she’s asked to make the cows produce plenty of milk. The day is busy with preparations. The women bake special little cakes shaped like lambs, pigs, and chickens; the men get a pig ready for roasting, as roast pig is the main dish in every Serbian household at Christmas. A bundle of straw, tied with a rope, is brought into the courtyard and left there next to the Yule logs.

The introduction of the Yule log.

At the moment when the sun is setting all the members of the family assemble in the central hall (the great family kitchen) of the principal house. The mother of the family (or the wife of the chief of the Zadrooga)670 gives a pair of [pg 260] woollen gloves to one of the young men, who goes out and presently returns carrying in his gloved hands the largest of the logs. The mother receives him at the threshold, throwing at him a handful of wheat, in which the first chip of the oak tree cut in the early morning for the Yule log has been kept all day. Entering the central hall with the Yule log the young man greets all present with the words: “Good evening, and may you have a happy Christmas!” and they all answer in chorus, “May God and the happy and holy Christmas help thee!” In some parts of Servia the chief of the family, holding a glass of red wine in his hand, greets the Yule log as if it were a living person, and drinks to its health. After that, another glass of red wine is poured on the log. Then the oldest male member of the family, assisted by the young man who brought in the log, places it on the burning fire so that the thicker end of the log protrudes for about a foot from the hearth. In some places this end is smeared with honey.

At sunset, all the family members gather in the central hall (the big family kitchen) of the main house. The mother of the family (or the wife of the head of the Zadrooga) gives a pair of [pg 260] wool gloves to one of the young men, who goes outside and soon comes back carrying the biggest log. The mother greets him at the doorway, tossing a handful of wheat at him, which includes the first chip of the oak tree cut in the early morning for the Yule log and has been kept all day. As the young man enters the hall with the Yule log, he addresses everyone with the words: “Good evening, and I hope you have a great Christmas!” They all respond in unison, "May God and a joyful and blessed Christmas assist you!" In some parts of Serbia, the head of the family, holding a glass of red wine, greets the Yule log as if it were alive, toasting to its health. After that, another glass of red wine is poured over the log. Then, the oldest male family member, assisted by the young man who brought in the log, places it on the fire, making sure the thicker end sticks out about a foot from the hearth. In some traditions, this end is smeared with honey.

The ceremony with the straw. The Yule candle.

Next the mother of the family brings in the bundle of straw which was left standing outside. All the young children arrange themselves behind her in a row. She then walks slowly round the hall and the adjoining rooms, throwing handfuls of straw on the floor and imitating the cackling of a hen, while all the children follow her peeping with their lips as if they were chickens cheeping and waddling after the mother bird. When the floor is well strewn with straw, the father or the eldest member of the family throws a few walnuts in every corner of the hall, pronouncing the words: “In the name of God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen!” A large pot, or a small wooden box, filled with wheat is placed high in the east corner of the hall, and a tall candle of yellow wax is stuck in the middle of the wheat. Then the father of the family reverently lights the candle [pg 261] and prays God to bless the family with health and happiness, the fields with a good harvest, the beehives with plenty of honey, the cattle and sheep with young, and the cows with abundant milk and rich cream. After that they all sit down to supper, squatting on the floor, for the use of chairs and tables is forbidden on this occasion.

Next, the mother of the family brings in the bundle of straw that was left outside. All the young children line up behind her. She then walks slowly around the hall and the adjoining rooms, scattering handfuls of straw on the floor and mimicking the clucking of a hen, while all the children follow her, chirping with their lips as if they were chicks waddling after their mother. Once the floor is covered with straw, the father or the oldest family member tosses a few walnuts into every corner of the hall, saying: "In the name of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!" A large pot or a small wooden box filled with wheat is placed high in the east corner of the hall, and a tall yellow wax candle is stuck in the middle of the wheat. Then, the father of the family respectfully lights the candle [pg 261] and prays for God's blessings on the family for health and happiness, for the fields to have a good harvest, for the beehives to fill with honey, for the cattle and sheep to have young, and for the cows to produce plenty of milk and rich cream. After that, they all sit down for supper, squatting on the floor, as using chairs and tables is not allowed on this occasion.

The roasted pig. The drawing of the water.

By four o'clock next morning (Christmas Day) the whole village is astir; indeed most people do not sleep at all that night. It is deemed most important to keep the Yule log burning brightly all night long. Very early, too, the pig is laid on the fire to roast, and at the same moment one of the family goes out into the yard and fires a pistol or gun; and when the roast pig is removed from the fire the shot is repeated. Hence for several hours in the early morning of Christmas Day such a popping and banging of firearms goes on that a stranger might think a stubborn skirmish was in progress. Just before the sun rises a girl goes and draws water at the village spring or at the brook. Before she fills her vessels, she wishes the water a happy Christmas and throws a handful of wheat into it. The first cupfuls of water she brings home are used to bake a special Christmas cake (chesnitsa), of which all the members partake at dinner, and portions are kept for absent relatives. A small silver coin is baked in the cake, and he or she who gets it will be lucky during the year.

By four o'clock next morning (Christmas Day), the whole village is awake; in fact, most people don’t sleep at all that night. It's considered very important to keep the Yule log burning brightly all night. Very early, the pig is placed on the fire to roast, and at the same time, a family member goes out into the yard and shoots a pistol or gun. When the roast pig is taken off the fire, the shot is fired again. So, for several hours in the early morning of Christmas Day, the popping and banging of firearms goes on, and a stranger might think a fierce battle is happening. Just before sunrise, a girl goes to draw water from the village spring or the brook. Before she fills her containers, she wishes the water a happy Christmas and throws a handful of wheat into it. The first cups of water she brings home are used to bake a special Christmas cake (chesnitsa), which all the family members share at dinner, and some is kept for relatives who are absent. A small silver coin is baked in the cake, and whoever finds it will have good luck throughout the year.

The Christmas visitorstudent).

All the family gathered round the blazing Yule log now anxiously expect the arrival of the special Christmas visiter, who bears the title of polaznik. He is usually a young boy of a friendly family. No other person, not even the priest or the mayor of the village, would be allowed to set foot in the house before the arrival of this important personage. Therefore he ought to come, and generally does come, very early in the morning. He carries a woollen glove full of wheat, and when the door is opened at his knock he throws handfuls of wheat on the family gathered round the hearth, greeting them with the words, “Christ is born!” They all answer, “He is born indeed,” and the hostess flings a handful of wheat over the Christmas visiter, who moreover casts some of his wheat into the corners of the hall as well as upon the people. Then he walks straight to the hearth, [pg 262] takes a shovel and strikes the burning log so that a cloud of sparks flies up the chimney, while he says, “May you have this year so many oxen, so many horses, so many sheep, so many pigs, so many beehives full of honey, so much good luck, prosperity, progress, and happiness!” Having uttered these good wishes, he embraces and kisses his host. Then he turns again to the hearth, and after crossing himself falls on his knees and kisses the projecting part of the Yule log. On rising to his feet he places a coin on the log as his gift. Meanwhile a low wooden chair has been brought in by a woman, and the visiter is led to it to take his seat. But just as he is about to do so, the chair is jerked away from under him by a male member of the family and he measures his length on the floor. By this fall he is supposed to fix into the ground all the good wishes which he has uttered that morning. The hostess thereupon wraps him in a thick blanket, and he sits quietly muffled in it for a few minutes; the thick blanket in which he is swathed is believed, on the principles of homoeopathic magic, to ensure that the cows will give thick cream the next year. While he sits thus enriching the milk of the dairy, the lads who are to herd the sheep in the coming year go to the hearth and kneeling down before it kiss each other across the projecting end of the Yule log. By this demonstration of affection they are thought to seal the love of the ewes for their lambs.671

All the family gathered around the blazing Yule log now anxiously await the arrival of the special Christmas visitor, known as participant. He is usually a young boy from a friendly family. No one else, not even the priest or the mayor of the village, is allowed to enter the house before this important person arrives. Therefore, he is expected to come, and usually does arrive, very early in the morning. He carries a woolen glove filled with wheat, and when the door opens at his knock, he throws handfuls of wheat at the family gathered around the hearth, greeting them with the words, “Jesus is born!” They all respond, “He is truly born,” and the hostess tosses some wheat over the Christmas visitor, who also scatters some of his wheat into the corners of the hall as well as over the people. Then he walks directly to the hearth, [pg 262] takes a shovel, and strikes the burning log so that a cloud of sparks flies up the chimney, while he says, "May you have this year plenty of oxen, horses, sheep, pigs, beehives full of honey, along with lots of good luck, prosperity, progress, and happiness!" After expressing these good wishes, he embraces and kisses his host. Then he turns back to the hearth, crosses himself, falls to his knees, and kisses the protruding part of the Yule log. Upon standing up, he places a coin on the log as his gift. Meanwhile, a woman has brought in a low wooden chair, and the visitor is led to it to take his seat. But just as he is about to sit down, a male family member jerks the chair away from him, causing him to land on the floor. This fall is meant to ground all the good wishes he has shared that morning. The hostess then wraps him in a thick blanket, and he sits quietly bundled in it for a few minutes; this thick blanket is believed, based on homoeopathic magic principles, to ensure that the cows will produce rich cream the following year. While he sits thus enriching the milk of the dairy, the boys who will herd the sheep in the coming year go to the hearth and kneel before it, kissing each other across the projecting end of the Yule log. This show of affection is thought to strengthen the bond between the ewes and their lambs.

The Yule log among the Serbians of Slavonia. The Christmas visitor (trainee).

The ritual of the Yule log is observed in a similar form by the Servians who inhabit the southern provinces of Austria. Thus in Syrmia, a district of Slavonia which borders on Servia, the head of the house sends out one or two young men on Christmas Eve to cut the Yule log in the nearest forest. On being brought in, the log is not mixed with the ordinary fuel but placed by itself, generally leaning against a fruit-tree till the evening shadows begin to fall. When a man carries it into the kitchen and lays it on the fire, the master of the house throws corn over him, and the two greet each other solemnly, the one saying, “Christ is born,” and the other answering, “He is born indeed.” Later in the evening the master of [pg 263] the house pours a glass of wine on the charred end of the log, whereupon one of the younger men takes the burnt piece of wood, carries it to the orchard, and sets it up against one of the fruit-trees. For this service he is rewarded by the master of the house with a piece of money. On Christmas Day, when the family is assembled at table, they expect the arrival of the special Christmas visiter (called polazenik), the only person who is allowed to enter the house that day. When he comes, he goes to the hearth, stirs the fire with the poker and says, “Christ is born. May the family enjoy all good luck and happiness in this year! May the cattle increase in number like the sparks I have struck!” As he says these words, the mistress of the house pours corn over him and leads him to the parlour, where he takes the place of honour beside the master of the house. He is treated with marked attention and respect. The family are at pains to entertain him; they sing their best songs for his amusement, and after midnight a numerous band of men and maidens escorts him by torchlight, with songs and jubilation, to his own house.672

The tradition of the Yule log is similarly observed by the Serbians living in the southern provinces of Austria. In Syrmia, a region of Slavonia that borders Serbia, the head of the household sends out one or two young men on Christmas Eve to cut the Yule log from the nearest forest. When the log is brought in, it isn’t mixed with the regular firewood but is placed by itself, usually leaning against a fruit tree until evening falls. When a man carries it into the kitchen and lays it on the fire, the master of the house throws corn over him, and they greet each other seriously, one saying, "Christ is born," and the other replying, "He is really born." Later that evening, the master of the house pours a glass of wine over the charred end of the log, after which one of the young men takes the burnt piece of wood, carries it to the orchard, and sets it against one of the fruit trees. As a reward for this task, he receives a coin from the master of the house. On Christmas Day, when the family gathers at the table, they anticipate the arrival of the special Christmas visitor (known as trainee), the only person allowed to enter the house that day. When he arrives, he goes to the hearth, stirs the fire with a poker, and says, "Christ is born. Wishing the family all the best and happiness this year! May the cattle multiply like the sparks I've created!" As he speaks, the mistress of the house pours corn over him and leads him to the living room, where he takes the place of honor next to the master of the house. He receives considerable attention and respect. The family makes an effort to entertain him; they sing their best songs for his enjoyment, and after midnight, a large group of young men and women escorts him home by torchlight, singing and celebrating.

The Yule log among the Serbians of Dalmatia, Herzegovina, and Montenegro. The Yule log in Albania.

Among the Servians of Dalmatia, Herzegovina, and Montenegro it is customary on Christmas Eve (Badnyi Dan) to fetch a great Yule log (badnyak), which serves as a symbol of family luck. It is generally cut from an evergreen oak, but sometimes from an olive-tree or a beech. At nightfall the master of the house himself brings in the log and lays it on the fire. Then he and all present bare their heads, sprinkle the log with wine, and make a cross on it. After that the master of the house says, “Welcome, O log! May God keep you from mishap!” So saying he strews peas, maize, raisins, and wheat on the log, praying for God's blessing on all members of the family living and dead, for heaven's blessing on their undertakings, and for domestic prosperity. In Montenegro they meet the log with a loaf of bread and a jug of wine, drink to it, and pour wine on it, whereupon the whole family drinks out of the same beaker. In Dalmatia and other places, for example in Rizano, the Yule logs are decked by young women with red silk, flowers, [pg 264] laurel leaves, ribbons, and even gold wire; and the lights near the doorposts are kindled when the log is brought into the house. Among the Morlaks, as soon as the master of the house crosses the threshold with the Yule log, one of the family must sprinkle corn on him and say, “God bless you,” to which he answers, “The same to you.” A piece of the log is kept till New Year's Day to kindle a light with or it is carried out to the fields to protect them from hail. It is customary to invite before hand a Christmas visiter (polažaynik) and to admit no one else into the house on that day. He comes early, carrying in his sleeves a quantity of corn which he throws into the house, saying, “Christ is born.” One of the household replies, “He is born indeed,” and throws corn on the visiter. Then the newcomer goes up to the hearth, pokes the fire and strikes the burning log with the poker so hard that sparks fly off in all directions. At each blow he says, “I wish the family as many cows, calves, sucking pigs, goats, and sheep, and as many strokes of good luck, as the sparks that now fly from the log.” With these words he throws some small coins into the ashes.673 In Albania down to recent years it was a common custom to burn a Yule log at Christmas, and with it corn, maize, and beans; moreover, wine and rakia were poured on the flames, and the ashes of the fire were scattered on the fields to make them fertile.674 The Huzuls, a Slavonic people of the Carpathians, kindle fire by the friction of wood on Christmas Eve (Old Style, the fifth of January) and keep it burning till Twelfth Night.675

Among the Serbs of Dalmatia, Herzegovina, and Montenegro, it’s a tradition on Christmas Eve (Badnyi Dan) to bring in a large Yule log (badnyak), which symbolizes family fortune. It's typically cut from an evergreen oak, but sometimes from an olive or a beech tree. As night falls, the head of the household brings in the log and places it on the fire. Then he and everyone present remove their hats, sprinkle wine on the log, and make a cross on it. After that, the head of the house says, "Welcome, O log! May you be protected from harm!" While saying this, he scatters peas, corn, raisins, and wheat on the log, praying for God’s blessing on all family members, both living and deceased, for divine favor on their endeavors, and for prosperity at home. In Montenegro, they greet the log with a loaf of bread and a jug of wine, drink to it, and pour wine over it, after which the whole family drinks from the same cup. In Dalmatia and other areas, like Rizano, young women decorate the Yule logs with red silk, flowers, [pg 264] laurel leaves, ribbons, and even gold wire; and lights are lit near the doorposts when the log is brought inside. Among the Morlaks, as soon as the head of the household crosses the threshold with the Yule log, a family member must sprinkle corn on him and say, "Bless you," to which he replies, "Same to you." A piece of the log is saved until New Year's Day to kindle a light, or it's taken out to the fields to protect them from hail. It’s customary to invite a Christmas visitor (polažaynik) ahead of time and not allow anyone else into the house that day. He arrives early, carrying some corn in his sleeves, which he throws into the house, saying, "Jesus is born." One of the household responds, “He is definitely born,” and throws corn back at the visitor. Then the newcomer approaches the hearth, pokes the fire, and strikes the burning log with the poker so forcefully that sparks fly everywhere. With each strike, he says, "I wish the family as many cows, calves, piglets, goats, and sheep, along with as much good luck as there are sparks flying from the log right now." As he says this, he throws some small coins into the ashes.673 In Albania, until recently, it was common to burn a Yule log at Christmas, along with corn, maize, and beans; also, wine and rakia were poured onto the flames, and the ashes from the fire were scattered on the fields to enhance fertility.674 The Huzuls, a Slavic people from the Carpathians, start a fire by rubbing wood together on Christmas Eve (Old Style, January 5) and keep it burning until Twelfth Night.675

The belief that the Yule log offers protection against fire and lightning.

It is remarkable how common the belief appears to have been that the remains of the Yule-log, if kept throughout the year, had power to protect the house against fire and especially against lightning.676 As the Yule log was [pg 265] frequently of oak,677 it seems possible that this belief may be a relic of the old Aryan creed which associated the oak-tree with the god of thunder.678 Whether the curative and fertilizing virtues ascribed to the ashes of the Yule log, which are supposed to heal cattle as well as men, to enable cows to calve, and to promote the fruitfulness of the earth,679 may not be derived from the same ancient source, is a question which deserves to be considered.

It's interesting how widespread the belief was that keeping the remains of the Yule log throughout the year could protect the home from fire and especially from lightning.676 Since the Yule log was often made of oak,677 it seems likely that this belief is a remnant of the old Aryan religion, which linked the oak tree with the god of thunder.678 Whether the healing and fertilizing properties attributed to the ashes of the Yule log, believed to cure cattle and humans, assist cows in calving, and enhance the fertility of the earth,679 come from the same ancient origins is a question worth considering.

Public celebrations of the fire festival during Midwinter. The bonfire on Christmas Eve at Schweina in Thuringia.

Thus far we have regarded only the private or domestic celebration of the fire-festival at midwinter. The public celebration of such rites at that season of the year appears to have been rare and exceptional in Central and Northern Europe. However, some instances are on record. Thus at Schweina, in Thuringia, down to the second half of the nineteenth century, the young people used to kindle a great bonfire on the Antonius Mountain every year on Christmas Eve. Neither the civil nor the ecclesiastical authorities were able to suppress the celebration; nor could the cold, rain, and snow of the season damp or chill the enthusiasm of the celebrants. For some time before Christmas the young men and boys were busy building a foundation for the bonfire on the top of the mountain, where the oldest church of the village used to stand. The foundation consisted of a pyramidal structure composed of stones, turf, and moss. When Christmas Eve came round, a strong pole, with bundles of brushwood tied to it, was erected on the pyramid. The young folk also provided themselves with poles to which old brooms or faggots of shavings were attached. These were to serve as torches. When the evening grew dark and the church bells rang to service, the troop of lads ascended the mountain; and soon from the top the glare of the bonfire lit up the darkness, and the sound of a hymn broke the stillness of night. In a circle round the great fire lesser fires were kindled; and last of all the lads ran about swinging their lighted torches, till these twinkling points of fire, moving down the mountain-side, went out one by one in the darkness. At midnight the bells rang out from the church [pg 266] tower, mingled with the blast of horns and the sound of singing. Feasting and revelry were kept up throughout the night, and in the morning young and old went to early mass to be edified by hearing of the light eternal.680

So far, we've only looked at the private or home-based celebration of the fire festival at midwinter. Public celebrations of these rites during this time of year were rare and unusual in Central and Northern Europe. However, there are some recorded exceptions. For example, in Schweina, Thuringia, right up to the second half of the nineteenth century, young people would light a big bonfire on Antonius Mountain every Christmas Eve. Neither the local government nor the church could stop the celebration, and neither the cold, rain, nor snow could dampen the spirits of the participants. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the young men and boys worked on a base for the bonfire at the top of the mountain, where the village's oldest church used to be. The base was a pyramid made of stones, grass, and moss. As Christmas Eve arrived, a tall pole with bundles of brushwood was set up on the pyramid. The young people also made their own torches by attaching old brooms or bundles of shavings to poles. When night fell and the church bells signaled the service, the group of boys climbed the mountain; soon, the light from the bonfire pierced the darkness and the sound of a hymn filled the night. Around the big fire, smaller fires were lit, and finally the boys ran around waving their flaming torches, their sparkles of light gradually extinguishing as they moved down the mountain. At midnight, the bells rang from the church tower, mixed with the sound of horns and singing. The feasting and celebrations continued all night, and in the morning, both young and old attended early mass to be uplifted by the message of eternal light.[pg 266]

Bonfires on Christmas Eve in Normandy.

In the Bocage of Normandy the peasants used to repair, often from a distance of miles, to the churches to hear the midnight mass on Christmas Eve. They marched in procession by torchlight, chanting Christmas carols, and the fitful illumination of the woods, the hedges, and the fields as they moved through the darkness, presented a succession of picturesque scenes. Mention is also made of bonfires kindled on the heights; the custom is said to have been observed at Athis near Condé down to recent years.681

In the Bocage region of Normandy, the peasants used to travel for miles to their churches to attend midnight mass on Christmas Eve. They walked in procession, carrying torches and singing Christmas carols. The flickering lights from the torches illuminated the woods, hedges, and fields as they moved through the darkness, creating a series of beautiful scenes. There are also mentions of bonfires lit on the hills; this tradition is said to have been practiced in Athis near Condé well into recent years.681

Bonfires on St. Thomas's Day in the Isle of Man. The “Burning of the Clavie”at Burghead on the last day of December. The old rampart at Burghead.

In the Isle of Man, “on the twenty-first of December, a day dedicated to Saint Thomas, the people went to the mountains to catch deer and sheep for Christmas, and in the evenings always kindled a large fire on the top of every fingan or cliff. Hence, at the time of casting peats, every one laid aside a large one, saying, Faaid mooar moayney son oie'l fingan; that is, ‘a large turf for Fingan Eve.’ ”682 At Burghead, an ancient village on the southern shore of the Moray Firth, about nine miles from the town of Elgin, a festival of fire called “the Burning of the Clavie” has been celebrated from time immemorial on Hogmanay, the last day of December. A tar-barrel is sawn in two, one half of it is set on the top of a stout pole, and filled with tar and other combustibles. The half-barrel is fastened to the pole by means of a long nail, which is made for the purpose and furnished gratuitously by the village blacksmith. The nail must be knocked in with a stone; the use of a hammer is forbidden. When the shades of evening have begun to fall, the Clavie, as it is called, is set on fire by means of a burning peat, which is always fetched from the same house; it may not be kindled with a match. As soon as it is in a blaze, it is shouldered by a man, who proceeds to carry it at a run, flaring and dripping melted tar, round the old [pg 267] boundaries of the village; the modern part of the town is not included in the circuit. Close at his heels follows a motley crowd, cheering and shouting. One bearer relieves another as each wearies of his burden. The first to shoulder the Clavie, which is esteemed an honour, is usually a man who has been lately married. Should the bearer stumble or fall, it is deemed a very ill omen for him and for the village. In bygone times it was thought necessary that one man should carry it all round the village; hence the strongest man was chosen for the purpose. Moreover it was customary to carry the burning Clavie round every fishing-boat and vessel in the harbour; but this part of the ceremony was afterwards discontinued. Finally, the blazing tar-barrel is borne to a small hill called the Doorie, which rises near the northern end of the promontory. Here the pole is fixed into a socket in a pillar of freestone, and fresh fuel is heaped upon the flames, which flare up higher and brighter than ever. Formerly the Clavie was allowed to burn here the whole night, but now, after blazing for about half an hour, it is lifted from the socket and thrown down the western slope of the hill. Then the crowd rushes upon it, demolishes it, and scrambles for the burning, smoking embers, which they carry home and carefully preserve as charms to protect them against witchcraft and misfortune.683 The great antiquity of Burghead, where this curious and no doubt ancient festival is still annually observed, appears from the remains of a very remarkable rampart which formerly encircled the place. It consists of a mound of earth faced on both sides with a solid wall of stone and strengthened internally by oak beams and planks, the whole being laid on a foundation of boulders. The style of the rampart agrees in general with Caesar's description of the mode in which the Gauls constructed their walls of earth, stone, and logs,684 and it resembles the ruins of Gallic fortifications which have been discovered [pg 268] in France, though it is said to surpass them in the strength and solidity of its structure. No similar walls appear to be known in Britain. A great part of this interesting prehistoric fortress was barbarously destroyed in the early part of the nineteenth century, much of it being tumbled into the sea and many of the stones used to build the harbour piers.685

In the Isle of Man, "On December 21st, a day for Saint Thomas, people would go to the hills to catch deer and sheep for Christmas. In the evenings, they always lit a large fire on top of every fingan or cliff. Because of this, during peat cutting season, everyone made sure to set aside a large piece, saying, Faaid mooar moayney son oie'l fingan, which means ‘a large turf for Fingan Eve.’"682 At Burghead, an ancient village on the southern shore of the Moray Firth, about nine miles from Elgin, a fire festival called “The Burning of the Clavie” has been celebrated for ages on Hogmanay, the last day of December. A tar-barrel is cut in half, one half is placed on top of a sturdy pole, and filled with tar and other flammable materials. The half-barrel is secured to the pole with a long nail, which is specifically made for this purpose and supplied free by the village blacksmith. The nail must be hammered in with a stone; using a hammer is not allowed. As evening starts to fall, the Clavie is ignited using a burning peat, which always comes from the same house; it cannot be lit with a match. Once it's ablaze, a man shoulders it and runs around the old [pg 267] boundaries of the village; the modern part of the town is excluded from this route. Close behind him is a lively crowd, cheering and shouting. One person passes the Clavie to another as each gets tired of carrying it. The first person to shoulder the Clavie, which is seen as an honor, is often a recently married man. If the bearer stumbles or falls, it is considered a really bad omen for him and the village. In the past, it was thought important that one man carry it all the way around the village, so the strongest man was chosen for the job. It was also traditional to carry the burning Clavie around every fishing boat and vessel in the harbor; however, this part of the ceremony has since stopped. Finally, the blazing tar-barrel is taken to a small hill called the Doorie, near the northern end of the promontory. Here, the pole is anchored in a socket in a stone pillar, and fresh fuel is piled onto the flames, which blaze higher and brighter than ever. Originally, the Clavie could burn here all night, but now, after about half an hour of burning, it is lifted from the socket and thrown down the western slope of the hill. Then the crowd rushes to it, breaks it apart, and scrambles for the burning, smoking embers, which they take home and carefully keep as charms against witchcraft and misfortune.683 The great age of Burghead, where this quirky and undoubtedly ancient festival is still celebrated every year, is evident from the remains of a notable rampart that once surrounded the area. It consists of an earthen mound faced on both sides with a solid stone wall and reinforced inside with oak beams and planks, all built on a foundation of boulders. The style of the rampart generally aligns with Caesar's description of how the Gauls constructed their earth, stone, and log walls,684 and it resembles the ruins of Gallic fortifications found [pg 268] in France, although it is said to be stronger and more solid in its construction. No similar walls seem to exist in Britain. Much of this fascinating prehistoric fortress was thoughtlessly destroyed in the early nineteenth century, with much of it tumbling into the sea and many stones being used to build the harbor piers.685

Procession with flaming tar barrels on Christmas Eve (Old Style) in Lerwick.

In Lerwick, the capital of the Shetland Islands, “on Christmas Eve, the fourth of January,—for the old style is still observed—the children go a guizing, that is to say, they disguising themselves in the most fantastic and gaudy costumes, parade the streets, and infest the houses and shops, begging for the wherewithal to carry on their Christmas amusements. One o'clock on Yule morning having struck, the young men turn out in large numbers, dressed in the coarsest of garments, and, at the double-quick march, drag huge tar barrels through the town, shouting and cheering as they go, or blowing loud blasts with their ‘louder horns.’ The tar barrel simply consists of several—say from four to eight—tubs filled with tar and chips, placed on a platform of wood. It is dragged by means of a chain, to which scores of jubilant youths readily yoke themselves. They have recently been described by the worthy burgh officer of Lerwick as ‘fiery chariots, the effect of which is truly grand and terrific.’ In a Christmas morning the dark streets of Lerwick are generally lighted up by the bright glare, and its atmosphere blackened by the dense smoke of six or eight tar barrels in succession. On the appearance of daybreak, at six a.m., the morning revellers put off their coarse garments—well begrimed by this time—and in their turn become guizards. They assume every imaginable form of costume—those of [pg 269] soldiers, sailors, highlanders, Spanish chevaliers, etc. Thus disguised, they either go in pairs, as man and wife, or in larger groups, and proceed to call on their friends, to wish them the compliments of the season. Formerly, these adolescent guizards used to seat themselves in crates, and accompanied by fiddlers, were dragged through the town.”686

In Lerwick, the capital of the Shetland Islands, On Christmas Eve, January 4th — since the old calendar is still followed — the children go a guizing, meaning they dress up in colorful and extravagant costumes, parade through the streets, and visit houses and shops asking for donations to fund their Christmas celebrations. When the clock strikes one on Yule morning, many young men come out, dressed in rough clothing, quickly dragging huge tar barrels through the town, cheering and shouting as they go, or blowing loud blasts with their ‘louder horns.’ The tar barrel consists of several — about four to eight — tubs filled with tar and wood chips, placed on a wooden platform. It's pulled by a chain that many enthusiastic youths eagerly attach themselves to. They have recently been described by the respected burgh officer of Lerwick as ‘fiery chariots, the effect of which is truly grand and terrifying.’ On Christmas morning, the dark streets of Lerwick are usually lit up by the bright light, and the air becomes thick with smoke from six or eight tar barrels one after another. At daybreak, around six a.m., the morning celebrators remove their dirty, rough clothes — now well-soiled — and become guizards. They wear every imaginable costume — those of [pg 269] soldiers, sailors, highlanders, Spanish knights, etc. Disguised this way, they form pairs, as husband and wife, or larger groups, and visit their friends to wish them holiday greetings. In the past, these teenage guizards would sit in crates, accompanied by fiddlers, while being pulled through the town.686

Persian fire festival at the winter solstice.

The Persians used to celebrate a festival of fire called Sada or Saza at the winter solstice. On the longest night of the year they kindled bonfires everywhere, and kings and princes tied dry grass to the feet of birds and animals, set fire to the grass, and then let the birds and beasts fly or run blazing through the air or over the fields and mountains, so that the whole air and earth appeared to be on fire.687

The Persians celebrated a fire festival called Sada or Saza during the winter solstice. On the longest night of the year, they lit bonfires everywhere, and kings and princes would tie dry grass to the feet of birds and animals, set the grass on fire, and then release the birds and animals to fly or run, blazing through the air or across the fields and mountains, making it seem like the entire sky and earth were on fire.687

§ 8. The Need-fire.

European fire festivals during times of hardship and disaster. The need-fire.

The fire-festivals hitherto described are all celebrated periodically at certain stated times of the year. But besides these regularly recurring celebrations the peasants in many parts of Europe have been wont from time immemorial to resort to a ritual of fire at irregular intervals in seasons of distress and calamity, above all when their cattle were attacked by epidemic disease. No account of the popular European fire-festivals would be complete without some notice of these remarkable rites, which have all the greater claim on our attention because they may perhaps be regarded as the source and origin of all the other fire-festivals; certainly they must date from a very remote antiquity. The general name by which they are known among the Teutonic peoples is need-fire.688

The fire festivals described so far happen regularly at specific times each year. However, in addition to these annual celebrations, peasants in many parts of Europe have, for ages, turned to fire rituals during times of hardship and disaster, especially when their livestock suffered from disease outbreaks. Any account of popular European fire festivals wouldn’t be complete without mentioning these significant rituals, which deserve extra attention because they might actually be the foundation of all other fire festivals; they definitely originate from very ancient times. Among the Teutonic peoples, they are commonly called need-fire.

[pg 270]

The need-fire during the Middle Ages. The need-fire in Neustadt in 1598.

The history of the need-fire can be traced back to the early Middle Ages; for in the reign of Pippin, King of the Franks, the practice of kindling need-fires was denounced as a heathen superstition by a synod of prelates and nobles held under the presidency of Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz.689 Not long afterwards the custom was again forbidden, along with many more relics of expiring paganism, in an “Index of Superstitions and Heathenish Observances,” which has been usually referred to the year 743 a.d., though some scholars assign it a later date under the reign of Charlemagne.690 In Germany the need-fires would seem to have been popular down to the second half of the nineteenth century. Thus in the year 1598, when a fatal cattle-plague was raging at Neustadt, near Marburg, a wise man of the name of Joh. Köhler induced the authorities of the town to adopt the following remedy. A new waggon-wheel was taken and twirled round an axle, which had never been used before, until the friction elicited fire. With this fire a bonfire was next kindled between the gates of the town, and all the cattle were driven through the smoke and flames. Moreover, every householder had to rekindle the fire on his hearth by means of a light taken from the bonfire. Strange to say, this salutary measure had no effect whatever in staying the [pg 271] cattle-plague, and seven years later the sapient Joh. Köhler himself was burnt as a witch. The farmers, whose pigs and cows had derived no benefit from the need-fire, perhaps assisted as spectators at the burning, and, while they shook their heads, agreed among themselves that it served Joh. Köhler perfectly right.691 According to a writer who published his book about nine years afterwards, some of the Germans, especially in the Wassgaw mountains, confidently believed that a cattle-plague could be stayed by driving the animals through a need-fire which had been kindled by the violent friction of a pole on a quantity of dry oak wood; but it was a necessary condition of success that all fires in the village should previously be extinguished with water, and any householder who failed to put out his fire was heavily fined.692

The history of need-fire goes back to the early Middle Ages. During the reign of Pippin, King of the Franks, a synod of bishops and nobles, led by Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz, condemned the practice of kindling need-fires as a pagan superstition. Not long after that, the custom was banned again, along with many other remnants of fading paganism, in an "List of Superstitions and Pagan Practices," which is usually dated to the year 743 a.d., although some scholars attribute it to a later date during Charlemagne's reign. In Germany, the need-fires seemed to remain popular until the second half of the nineteenth century. For instance, in 1598, when a deadly cattle plague was sweeping through Neustadt, near Marburg, a wise man named Joh. Köhler convinced the town authorities to adopt a remedy. A brand new wagon wheel was spun around an unused axle until friction created fire. This fire was then used to light a bonfire between the town gates, and all the cattle were driven through the smoke and flames. Additionally, every householder had to rekindle the fire on their hearth using a flame taken from the bonfire. Surprisingly, this seemingly helpful measure had no effect on halting the [pg 271] cattle plague, and seven years later, the wise Joh. Köhler was burned at the stake as a witch. The farmers, whose pigs and cows gained nothing from the need-fire, probably watched the execution and, while shaking their heads, agreed amongst themselves that this was just what Joh. Köhler deserved. According to a writer who published his book about nine years later, some Germans, especially in the Wassgaw mountains, firmly believed that a cattle plague could be prevented by driving the animals through need-fire created by vigorously rubbing a pole against a pile of dry oak wood. However, it was essential to first extinguish all fires in the village with water, and any householder who didn't put out their fire faced a hefty fine.

Way to start the need-fire.

The method of kindling the need-fire is described as follows by a writer towards the end of the seventeenth century: “When an evil plague has broken out among the cattle, large and small, and the herds have thereby suffered great ravages, the peasants resolve to light a need-fire. On a day appointed there must be no single flame in any house nor on any hearth. From every house a quantity of straw and water and underwood must be brought forth; then a strong oaken pole is fixed firmly in the earth, a hole is bored in it, and a wooden winch, well smeared with pitch and tar, is inserted in the hole and turned round forcibly till great heat and then fire is generated. The fire so produced is caught in fuel and fed with straw, heath, and underwood till it bursts out into a regular need-fire, which must then be somewhat spread out between walls or fences, and the cattle and horses driven through it twice or thrice with sticks and whips. Others set up two posts, each with a hole in it, and insert a winch, along with old greasy rags, in the holes. Others use a thick rope, collect nine kinds of wood, and keep them in violent motion till fire leaps forth. Perhaps there may be other [pg 272] ways of generating or kindling this fire, but they are all directed simply at the cure of the cattle. After passing twice or thrice through the fire the cattle are driven to their stalls or to pasture, and the heap of wood that had been collected is destroyed, but in some places every householder must take with him a brand, extinguish it in a washing-tub or trough, and put it in the manger where the cattle are fed, where it must lie for some time. The poles that were used to make the need-fire, together with the wood that was employed as a winch, are sometimes burned with the rest of the fuel, sometimes carefully preserved after the cattle have been thrice driven through the flames.”693

The process of creating need-fire is described as follows by a writer toward the end of the seventeenth century: “When a serious plague breaks out among livestock, both large and small, and farmers face significant losses, they decide to light a need-fire. On a specific day, there must be no open flames in any household. Each family must gather some straw, water, and underbrush; then a sturdy oak pole is planted in the ground, a hole is drilled into it, and a wooden winch, covered in pitch and tar, is placed in the hole and turned vigorously until it generates enough heat to start a fire. This fire is then caught in fuel and fueled with straw, heath, and underbrush until it becomes a proper need-fire, which should then be spread out between walls or fences, and the cattle and horses are driven through it two or three times using sticks and whips. Some people set up two posts, each with a hole, and insert a winch along with old greasy rags into the holes. Others use a thick rope, gather nine different types of wood, and keep them moving vigorously until fire ignites. There may be other methods of creating or igniting this fire, but they all aim solely at curing the cattle. After passing through the fire two or three times, the cattle are taken back to their stalls or to pasture, and the pile of wood that was collected is burned, although in some places every household must take a burning brand, extinguish it in a wash tub or trough, and place it in the cattle's feed trough, where it must remain for a while. The poles used to create the need-fire, along with the wood used for the winch, are sometimes burned with the rest of the fuel, and sometimes carefully saved after the cattle have gone through the flames three times.”693

The method of starting the need-fire around Hildesheim.

Sometimes the need-fire was known as the “wild fire,” to distinguish it no doubt from the tame fire produced by more ordinary methods. The following is Grimm's account of the mode of kindling it which prevailed in some parts of Central Germany, particularly about Hildesheim, down apparently to the first half of the nineteenth century: “In many places of Lower Saxony, especially among the mountains, the custom prevails of preparing the so-called ‘wild fire’ for the purpose of preventing cattle-plague; and through it first the pigs, then the cows, and last of all the geese are driven. The proceedings on the occasion are as follows. The principal farmers and parishioners assemble, and notice is served to every inhabitant to extinguish entirely all fire in his house, so that not even a spark remains alight in the whole village. Then young and old repair to a road in a hollow, usually towards evening, the women carrying linen, and the men wood and tow. Two oaken poles are driven into the ground about a foot and a half from each other. Each pole has in the side facing the other a socket into which a cross-piece as thick as a man's arm is fitted. The sockets are stuffed with linen, and the cross-piece is rammed in as tight as possible, while the poles are bound together at the top by ropes. A rope is wound about the round, smooth cross-piece, and the free ends of the rope at both sides are gripped by several [pg 273] persons, who pull the cross-piece to and fro with the utmost rapidity, till through the friction the linen in the sockets takes fire. The sparks of the linen are immediately caught in tow or oakum and waved about in a circle until they burst into a bright glow, when straw is applied to it, and the flaming straw used to kindle the brushwood which has been stacked in piles in the hollow way. When this wood has blazed up and the fire has nearly died out again, the people hasten to the herds, which have been waiting in the background, and drive them forcibly, one after the other, through the glow. As soon as all the beasts are through, the young folk rush wildly at the ashes and cinders, sprinkling and blackening each other with them; those who have been most sprinkled and blackened march in triumph behind the cattle into the village and do not wash themselves for a long time. If after long rubbing the linen should not catch fire, they guess that there is still fire somewhere in the village; then a strict search is made from house to house, any fire that may be found is put out, and the householder is punished or upbraided. The ‘wild fire’ must be made by prolonged friction; it may not be struck with flint and steel. Some villages do not prepare it yearly as a preventive of cattle-plague, but only kindle it when the disease has actually broken out.”694 In the Halberstadt district the ends of the rope which was used to make the cross-piece revolve in the sockets had to be pulled by two chaste young men.695

Sometimes the need-fire was referred to as the "wildfire," likely to differentiate it from the controlled fire generated through regular means. The following is Grimm's description of how it was ignited in some areas of Central Germany, especially around Hildesheim, apparently into the first half of the nineteenth century: In many areas of Lower Saxony, especially in the mountains, it's a tradition to create what’s called ‘wild fire’ to prevent cattle illnesses. First, pigs are herded through, followed by cows, and finally geese. This involves several key farmers and community members coming together, and a notice is sent to every resident to completely put out all fires in their homes, ensuring that not even a spark is left in the entire village. Then, both young and old gather in a sunken road, usually in the evening, with women carrying linen and men bringing wood and tow. Two oak poles are placed in the ground about a foot and a half apart. Each pole has a socket on the side facing the other where a cross-piece as thick as a man’s arm is inserted. The sockets are packed with linen, and the cross-piece is pushed in tightly while the poles are tied together at the top with ropes. A rope is wrapped around the smooth, round cross-piece, and several people hold onto the loose ends of the rope on both sides and pull the cross-piece back and forth quickly until the friction ignites the linen in the sockets. The sparks from the linen are quickly caught in tow or oakum and waved around in a circle until they glow brightly; then straw is added, and the burning straw is used to set fire to the brushwood stacked in the sunken road. Once the wood is burning and about to go out, people rush to the herds that have been waiting, moving them one after another through the flames. After all the animals have passed through, the young people scramble for the ashes and cinders, playfully smearing them on each other. Those who get the most covered triumphantly follow the cattle back into the village and don’t wash off the soot for a long time. If, after a long effort, the linen doesn't ignite, it’s believed there’s still fire somewhere in the village; a thorough search is made house by house, and any fire found is put out, with the homeowner facing reprimand or punishment. The ‘wild fire’ must be created through continued friction; it cannot be struck with flint and steel. Some villages only create it when a cattle disease has already broken out, rather than as a yearly precaution.694 In the Halberstadt area, the ends of the rope used to turn the cross-piece in the sockets had to be pulled by two pure young men.695

The way to start the need-fire in the Mark.

In the Mark down to the first half of the nineteenth century the practice was similar. We read that “in many parts of the Mark there still prevails on certain occasions the custom of kindling a need-fire, it happens particularly when a farmer has sick pigs. Two posts of dry wood are planted in the earth amid solemn silence before the sun rises, and round these posts hempen ropes are pulled to and fro till the wood kindles; whereupon the fire is fed with dry leaves and twigs and the sick beasts are driven through it. In some places the fire is produced by the friction of an old cart-wheel.”696

In the Mark down to the first half of the nineteenth century, the practice was similar. We read that In many areas of the Mark, there are still times when the tradition of starting a need-fire is followed, especially when a farmer has sick pigs. Two dry wooden posts are quietly set into the ground before sunrise, and hemp ropes are pulled back and forth around these posts until the wood ignites; then, the fire is fed with dry leaves and twigs, and the sick animals are driven through it. In some places, the fire is made by rubbing an old cart-wheel.696

[pg 274]

The method of starting the need-fire in Mecklenburg.

In Mecklenburg the need-fire used to be lighted by the friction of a rope wound about an oaken pole or by rubbing two boards against each other. Having been thus elicited, the flame was fed with wood of seven kinds. The practice was forbidden by Gustavus Adolphus, Duke of Mecklenburg, in 1682; but the prohibition apparently had little effect, for down to the end of the eighteenth century the custom was so common that the inhabitants even of large towns made no scruple of resorting to it. For example, in the month of July 1792 sickness broke out among the cattle belonging to the town of Sternberg; some of the beasts died suddenly, and so the people resolved to drive all the survivors through a need-fire. On the tenth day of July the magistrates issued a proclamation announcing that next morning before sunrise a need-fire would be kindled for the behoof of all the cattle of the town, and warning all the inhabitants against lighting fires in their kitchens that evening. So next morning very early, about two o'clock, nearly the whole population was astir, and having assembled outside one of the gates of the town they helped to drive the timid cattle, not without much ado, through three separate need-fires; after which they dispersed to their homes in the unalterable conviction that they had rescued the cattle from destruction. But to make assurance doubly sure they deemed it advisable to administer the rest of the ashes as a bolus to the animals. However, some people in Mecklenburg used to strew the ashes of the need-fire on fields for the purpose of protecting the crops against vermin. As late as June 1868 a traveller in Mecklenburg saw a couple of peasants sweating away at a rope, which they were pulling backwards and forwards so as to make a tarry roller revolve with great speed in the socket of an upright post. Asked what they were about, they vouchsafed no reply; but an old woman who appeared on the scene from a neighbouring cottage was more communicative. In the fulness of her heart she confided to the stranger that her pigs were sick, that the two taciturn bumpkins were her sons, who were busy extracting a need-fire from the roller, and that, when they succeeded, the flame would be used to ignite a heap of rags and brushwood, through which [pg 275] the ailing swine would be driven. She further explained that the persons who kindle a need-fire should always be two brothers or at least bear the same Christian name.697

In Mecklenburg, the need-fire used to be lit by rubbing a rope around an oak pole or by rubbing two boards together. Once the fire was started, it was fueled with wood from seven different kinds of trees. This practice was banned by Gustavus Adolphus, Duke of Mecklenburg, in 1682; however, the ban had little impact, and by the end of the eighteenth century, the tradition was so widespread that even people in large towns did not hesitate to practice it. For instance, in July 1792, a sickness broke out among the cattle in the town of Sternberg; some of the animals died suddenly, leading the townspeople to decide to drive the surviving ones through a need-fire. On July 10th, the local officials announced that the next morning, before sunrise, a need-fire would be lit for the benefit of all the town's cattle, warning residents against lighting fires in their kitchens that evening. Thus, very early the next morning, around two o'clock, almost the entire population was awake and gathered outside one of the town gates, helping to drive the frightened cattle, not without difficulty, through three separate need-fires. Afterward, they returned home, firmly believing they had saved the cattle from harm. To be extra sure, they also thought it wise to give the remaining ashes to the animals as a bolus. However, some residents in Mecklenburg would sprinkle the ashes from the need-fire on their fields to protect crops from pests. As recently as June 1868, a traveler in Mecklenburg saw a couple of peasants working hard to pull a rope back and forth to make a tarry roller spin quickly in a post. When asked what they were doing, they didn’t respond, but an old woman from a nearby cottage was more talkative. She excitedly shared with the traveler that her pigs were sick, and that the two quiet young men were her sons, who were working on extracting a need-fire from the roller. She explained that when they succeeded, the fire would be used to ignite a pile of rags and brushwood, through which the sick pigs would be driven. She also mentioned that the people who light a need-fire must always be two brothers or at least share the same Christian name.

The way of lighting the need-fire in Hanover.

In the summer of 1828 there was much sickness among the pigs and the cows of Eddesse, a village near Meinersen, in the south of Hanover. When all ordinary measures to arrest the malady failed, the farmers met in solemn conclave on the village green and determined that next morning there should be a need-fire. Thereupon the head man of the village sent word from house to house that on the following day nobody should kindle a fire before sunrise, and that everybody should stand by ready to drive out the cattle. The same afternoon all the necessary preparations were made for giving effect to the decision of the collective wisdom. A narrow street was enclosed with planks, and the village carpenter set to work at the machinery for kindling the fire. He took two posts of oak wood, bored a hole about three inches deep and broad in each, and set the two poles up facing each other at a distance of about two feet. Then he fitted a roller of oak wood into the two holes of the posts, so that it formed a cross-piece between them. About two o'clock next morning every householder brought a bundle of straw and brushwood and laid it down across the street in a prescribed order. The sturdiest swains who could be found were chosen to make the need-fire. For this purpose a long hempen rope was wound twice round the oaken roller in the oaken posts: the pivots were well smeared with pitch and tar: a bundle of tow and other tinder was laid close at hand, and all was ready. The stalwart clodhoppers now seized the two ends of the rope and went to work with a will. Puffs of smoke soon issued from the sockets, but to the consternation of the bystanders not a spark of fire could be elicited. Some people openly declared their suspicion that some rascal had not put out the fire in his house, when suddenly the tinder burst into flame. The cloud passed away from all faces; the fire was applied to the heaps of fuel, and when the flames had somewhat died down, the herds were forcibly driven through the fire, first the pigs, [pg 276] next the cows, and last of all the horses. The herdsmen then drove the beasts to pasture, and persons whose faith in the efficacy of the need-fire was particularly robust carried home brands.698

In the summer of 1828, there was a lot of sickness among the pigs and cows in Eddesse, a village near Meinersen in southern Hanover. When all usual methods to stop the sickness failed, the farmers gathered in a serious meeting on the village green and decided that there would be a need-fire the next morning. The village leader then sent word to every household that no one should light a fire before sunrise, and that everyone should be ready to drive out the cattle. That same afternoon, all the necessary preparations were made to implement the decision of the collective group. A narrow street was enclosed with planks, and the village carpenter started working on the machinery to create the fire. He took two oak posts, bored a hole about three inches deep and wide in each, and set the two poles facing each other about two feet apart. Then he fitted a wooden roller into the holes of the posts so that it formed a cross-piece between them. Around two o’clock the next morning, every household brought a bundle of straw and brushwood and placed it across the street in a specific order. The strongest farmhands were selected to create the need-fire. For this, a long hemp rope was wound twice around the oak roller between the oak posts; the axles were well smeared with pitch and tar; a bundle of tow and other tinder was placed nearby, and everything was set. The sturdy laborers took hold of both ends of the rope and began working energetically. Puffs of smoke soon came from the sockets, but to the shock of the onlookers, not a spark of fire was produced. Some people openly suspected that a trickster had kept the fire going in his house, when suddenly the tinder ignited. The worry lifted from everyone's faces; the fire was applied to the piles of fuel, and once the flames had calmed down a bit, the herds were forced through the fire, starting with the pigs, next the cows, and finally the horses. The herdsmen then took the animals to pasture, and those who had strong faith in the effectiveness of the need-fire carried home burning brands.

The method of starting the need-fire in the Harz Mountains.

Again, at a village near Quedlinburg, in the Harz Mountains, it was resolved to put a herd of sick swine through the need-fire. Hearing of this intention the Superintendent of Quedlinburg hurried to the spot and has described for us what he saw. The beadles went from house to house to see that there was no fire in any house; for it is well known that should there be common fire burning in a house the need-fire will not kindle. The men made their rounds very early in the morning to make quite sure that all lights were out. At two o'clock a night-light was still burning in the parsonage, and this was of course a hindrance to the need-fire. The peasants knocked at the window and earnestly entreated that the night-light might be extinguished. But the parson's wife refused to put the light out; it still glimmered at the window; and in the darkness outside the angry rustics vowed that the parson's pigs should get no benefit of the need-fire. However, as good luck would have it, just as the morning broke, the night-light went out of itself, and the hopes of the people revived. From every house bundles of straw, tow, faggots and so forth were now carried to feed the bonfire. The noise and the cheerful bustle were such that you might have thought they were all hurrying to witness a public execution. Outside the village, between two garden walls, an oaken post had been driven into the ground and a hole bored through it. In the hole a wooden winch, smeared with tar, was inserted and made to revolve with such force and rapidity that fire and smoke in time issued from the socket. The collected fuel was then thrown upon the fire and soon a great blaze shot up. The pigs were now driven into the upper end of the street. As soon as they saw the fire, they turned tail, but the peasants drove them through with shrieks and shouts and lashes of whips. At the other end of the street there was another crowd waiting, who [pg 277] chased the swine back through the fire a second time. Then the other crowd repeated the manœuvre, and the herd of swine was driven for the third time through the smoke and flames. That was the end of the performance. Many pigs were scorched so severely that they gave up the ghost. The bonfire was broken up, and every householder took home with him a brand, which he washed in the water-barrel and laid for some time, as a treasure of great price, in the manger from which the cattle were fed. But the parson's wife had reason bitterly to repent her folly in refusing to put out that night-light; for not one of her pigs was driven through the need-fire, so they died.699

Again, at a village near Quedlinburg in the Harz Mountains, it was decided to put a herd of sick pigs through need-fire. Upon hearing of this plan, the Superintendent of Quedlinburg rushed to the location and described what he saw. The beadles went from house to house to ensure there was no fire in any home; it's well known that if there's a common fire burning, the need-fire won't ignite. The men made their rounds very early in the morning to ensure that all lights were out. At two o'clock, a night-light was still burning in the parsonage, which understandably hindered the need-fire. The villagers knocked on the window and urgently asked for the night-light to be put out. But the parson's wife refused to extinguish it; it continued to flicker at the window, and in the darkness, the angry villagers swore that the parson's pigs wouldn't benefit from the need-fire. Fortunately, just as the morning broke, the night-light went out by itself, and the villagers’ hopes were restored. From every house, bundles of straw, tow, faggots, and other materials were carried to feed the bonfire. The noise and cheerful bustle were so lively that it felt like they were all rushing to witness a public execution. Outside the village, between two garden walls, an oak post had been driven into the ground with a hole bored through it. In the hole, a wooden winch, coated with tar, was inserted and spun with such force and speed that fire and smoke eventually emerged from the socket. The gathered fuel was then thrown onto the fire, and soon a large blaze flared up. The pigs were then driven to the upper end of the street. As soon as they saw the fire, they turned to flee, but the villagers forced them through with screams, shouts, and lashes from their whips. At the other end of the street, another crowd waited to chase the pigs back through the fire a second time. The first group then repeated the process, and the herd of pigs was driven through the smoke and flames for a third time. That marked the end of the event. Many pigs were scorched so badly that they died. The bonfire was broken up, and every householder took home a brand, which they soaked in the water-barrel and kept for a time as a treasured item in the trough where the cattle were fed. However, the parson's wife had reason to bitterly regret her foolishness in refusing to put out that night-light; no pigs from her herd were driven through the need-fire, so they all perished.

The method of starting the need-fire in Brunswick.

In Brunswick, also, the need-fire is known to have been repeatedly kindled during the nineteenth century. After driving the pigs through the fire, which was kindled by the friction of wood, some people took brands home, dipped them in water, and then gave the water to the pigs to drink, no doubt for the purpose of inoculating them still more effectually with the precious virtue of the need-fire. In the villages of the Drömling district everybody who bore a hand in kindling the “wild fire” must have the same Christian name; otherwise they laboured in vain. The fire was produced by the friction of a rope round the beams of a door; and bread, corn, and old boots contributed their mites to swell the blaze through which the pigs as usual were driven. In one place, apparently not far from Wolfenbüttel, the need-fire is said to have been kindled, contrary to custom, by the smith striking a spark from the cold anvil.700 At Gandersheim down to about the beginning of the nineteenth century the need-fire was lit in the common way by causing a cross-bar to revolve rapidly on its axis between two upright posts. The rope which produced the revolution of the bar had to be new, but it was if possible woven from threads taken from a gallows-rope, with which people had been hanged. While the need-fire was being kindled in this fashion, every other fire in the town had to be put out; [pg 278] search was made through the houses, and any fire discovered to be burning was extinguished. If in spite of every precaution no flame could be elicited by the friction of the rope, the failure was set down to witchcraft; but if the efforts were successful, a bonfire was lit with the new fire, and when the flames had died down, the sick swine were driven thrice through the glowing embers.701 On the lower Rhine the need-fire is said to have been kindled by the friction of oak-wood on fir-wood, all fires in the village having been previously extinguished. The bonfires so kindled were composed of wood of nine different sorts; there were three such bonfires, and the cattle were driven round them with great gravity and devotion.702

In Brunswick, the need-fire was known to have been lit multiple times during the nineteenth century. After driving the pigs through the fire, which was started by rubbing wood together, some people took brands home, dipped them in water, and then gave the water to the pigs to drink, likely to inoculate them more effectively with the valuable properties of the need-fire. In the villages of the Drömling district, everyone involved in lighting the "wildfire" had to share the same Christian name; otherwise, their efforts were in vain. The fire was created by rubbing a rope against the beams of a doorway, and bread, corn, and old boots were added to help the fire grow, through which the pigs were driven as usual. In one place, apparently near Wolfenbüttel, the need-fire was said to have been lit, contrary to tradition, by the smith striking a spark from a cold anvil.700 At Gandersheim, up until about the beginning of the nineteenth century, the need-fire was lit in the usual way by making a cross-bar spin rapidly on its axis between two upright posts. The rope used to create the spinning bar had to be new, but it was ideally made from threads taken from a gallows-rope, from which people had been hanged. While the need-fire was being lit this way, all other fires in the town had to be put out; [pg 278] a search was conducted in the houses, and any fires discovered were extinguished. If, despite all precautions, no flame could be produced by the rope's friction, the failure was attributed to witchcraft; but if successful, a bonfire was lit with the new fire, and when the flames subsided, the sick pigs were driven three times through the glowing embers.701 Along the lower Rhine, the need-fire was said to be lit by rubbing oak against fir wood, after all fires in the village had been put out. The bonfires created this way were made from wood of nine different kinds; there were three such bonfires, and the cattle were driven around them with great seriousness and respect.702

The method of starting the need-fire in Silesia and Bohemia.

In Silesia, also, need-fires were often employed for the purpose of curing a murrain or preventing its spread. While all other lights within the boundaries were extinguished, the new fire was produced by the friction of nine kinds of wood, and the flame so obtained was used to kindle heaps of brushwood or straw to which every inhabitant had contributed. Through these fires the cattle, both sick and sound, were driven in the confident expectation that thereby the sick would be healed and the sound saved from sickness.703 When plague breaks out among the herds at Dobischwald, in Austrian Silesia, a splinter of wood is chipped from the threshold of every house, the cattle are driven to a cross-road, and there a tree, growing at the boundary, is felled by a pair of twin brothers. The wood of the tree and the splinters from the thresholds furnish the fuel of a bonfire, which is kindled by the rubbing of two pieces of wood together. When the bonfire is ablaze, the horns of the cattle are pared and the parings thrown into the flames, after which the animals are driven through the fire. This is believed to guard the herd against the plague.704 The Germans of Western Bohemia resort to similar measures for staying a murrain. You set up a post, bore a hole in it, and insert in the hole a stick, which you have first of all smeared [pg 279] with pitch and wrapt in inflammable stuffs. Then you wind a rope round the stick and give the two ends of the rope to two persons who must either be brothers or have the same baptismal name. They haul the rope backwards and forwards so as to make the tarred stick revolve rapidly till the rope first smokes and then emits sparks. The sparks are used to kindle a bonfire, through which the cattle are driven in the usual way. And as usual no other fire may burn in the village while the need-fire is being kindled; for otherwise the rope could not possibly be ignited.705 In Upper Austria sick pigs are reported to have been driven through a need-fire about the beginning of the nineteenth century.706

In Silesia, need-fires were often used to cure a disease in livestock or to stop it from spreading. While all other lights within the area were put out, a new fire was created by rubbing together nine different kinds of wood. The flame produced was used to light piles of brushwood or straw, each contributed by local residents. Both sick and healthy cattle were then herded through these fires, with the belief that this would heal the sick and protect the healthy from illness. 703 When a plague broke out among the herds at Dobischwald in Austrian Silesia, a piece of wood was chipped from the threshold of every house. The cattle were brought to a crossroads, where a tree at the boundary was chopped down by a pair of twin brothers. The wood from the tree and the pieces from the thresholds were used as fuel for a bonfire, which was ignited by rubbing two pieces of wood together. Once the bonfire was roaring, the cattle's horns were shaved, and the trimmings were tossed into the flames, after which the animals were driven through the fire. This practice was believed to protect the herd from the plague. 704 The Germans of Western Bohemia used similar methods to stop a disease outbreak. They set up a post, drilled a hole in it, and inserted a stick that had been smeared with pitch and wrapped in flammable material. Then, they wound a rope around the stick and gave the ends of the rope to two people who had to either be brothers or share the same baptismal name. The two pulled the rope back and forth to make the tarred stick spin quickly until it started smoking and then sparked. The sparks were used to start a bonfire, through which the cattle were led in the usual manner. As before, no other fire was allowed to burn in the village while the need-fire was being lit; otherwise, the rope would not ignite. 705 In Upper Austria, it’s reported that sick pigs were driven through a need-fire around the early nineteenth century. 706

The use of need-fire in Switzerland.

The need-fire is still in use in some parts of Switzerland, but it seems to have degenerated into a children's game and to be employed rather for the dispersal of a mist than for the prevention or cure of cattle-plague. In some cantons it goes by the name of “mist-healing,” while in others it is called “butter-churning.” On a misty or rainy day a number of children will shut themselves up in a stable or byre and proceed to make fire for the purpose of improving the weather. The way in which they make it is this. A boy places a board against his breast, takes a peg pointed at both ends, and, setting one end of the peg against the board on his breast, presses the other end firmly against a second board, the surface of which has been flaked into a nap. A string is tied round the peg, and two other boys pull it to and fro, till through the rapid motion of the point of the peg a hole is burnt in the flaked board, to which tow or dry moss is then applied as a tinder. In this way fire and smoke are elicited, and with their appearance the children fancy that the mist will vanish.707 We may conjecture that this method of dispersing a mist, which is now left to children, was formerly practised in all seriousness by grown men in Switzerland. It is thus that religious or magical rites dwindle away into the sports [pg 280] of children. In the canton of the Grisons there is still in common use an imprecation, “Mist, go away, or I'll heal you,” which points to an old custom of burning up the fog with fire. A longer form of the curse lingers in the Vallée des Bagnes of the canton Valais. It runs thus: “Mist, mist, fly, fly, or St. Martin will come with a sheaf of straw to burn your guts, a great log of wood to smash your brow, and an iron chain to drag you to hell.”708

The need-fire is still used in some parts of Switzerland, but it seems to have turned into a children's game and is done more for clearing away mist than for preventing or curing cattle plague. In some cantons, it’s referred to as "mist healing," while in others, it’s called butter-making. On a foggy or rainy day, a group of kids will lock themselves in a stable or barn and try to start a fire to improve the weather. Here’s how they do it: a boy holds a board against his chest, takes a peg that's pointed on both ends, and sets one end of the peg against the board on his chest while pressing the other end firmly against a second board that's been flaked to create a rough surface. They tie a string around the peg, and two other boys pull it back and forth until the quick movement of the peg’s point burns a hole in the flaked board, to which they then add tow or dry moss as tinder. This way, they create fire and smoke, and when it appears, the kids believe the mist will disappear.707 We can guess that this method of clearing away mist, which is now left to children, used to be taken seriously by grown men in Switzerland. This is how religious or magical rites eventually transform into the games of children. In the canton of the Grisons, there's still a common saying, “Fog, go away, or I'll fix you,” which hints at an old tradition of burning off fog with fire. A longer version of the curse survives in the Vallée des Bagnes of the canton Valais. It goes: “Mist, mist, disappear, disappear, or St. Martin will arrive with a bundle of straw to burn your insides, a big piece of wood to smash your forehead, and an iron chain to pull you to hell.”708

The method of starting need-fire in Sweden and Norway. The need-fire as a defense against witchcraft.

In Sweden the need-fire is called, from the mode of its production, either vrid-eld, “turned fire,” or gnid-eld, “rubbed fire.” Down to near the end of the eighteenth century the need-fire was kindled, as in Germany, by the violent rubbing of two pieces of wood against each other; sometimes nine different kinds of wood were used for the purpose. The smoke of the fire was deemed salutary; fruit-trees and nets were fumigated with it, in order that the trees might bear fruit and the nets catch fish. Cattle were also driven through the smoke.709 In Sundal, a narrow Norwegian valley, shut in on both sides by precipitous mountains, there lived down to the second half of the nineteenth century an old man who was very superstitious. He set salmon-traps in the river Driva, which traverses the valley, and he caught many fish both in spring and autumn. When his fishing went wrong, he kindled naueld (“need-fire”) or gnideild (“rubbed fire,” “friction fire”) to counteract the witchcraft, which he believed to be the cause of his bad luck. He set up two planks near each other, bored a hole in each, inserted a pointed rod in the holes, and twisted a long cord round the rod. Then he pulled the cord so as to make the rod revolve rapidly. Thus by reason of the friction he at last drew fire from the wood. That contented him, for “he believed that the witchery was thus rendered powerless, and that good luck in his fishing was now ensured.”710

In Sweden, the need-fire is called, based on how it is created, either vrid-eld, "opened fire," or dog-eld, "friction fire." Up until the late eighteenth century, the need-fire was made, like in Germany, by vigorously rubbing two pieces of wood together; sometimes nine different types of wood were used for this purpose. The smoke from the fire was considered beneficial; fruit trees and nets were smoked to ensure the trees would produce fruit and the nets would catch fish. Cattle were also led through the smoke. 709 In Sundal, a narrow Norwegian valley flanked by steep mountains, there lived until the second half of the nineteenth century an old man who was extremely superstitious. He set salmon traps in the river Driva, which runs through the valley, and caught many fish in both spring and autumn. When his fishing was unsuccessful, he lit naueld ("emergency fire") or building ("friction fire," "friction fire") to combat the witchcraft he believed was causing his bad luck. He placed two planks close together, drilled a hole in each, inserted a pointed stick into the holes, and wrapped a long string around the stick. Then, he pulled the string to spin the stick quickly. This friction eventually created fire from the wood. That satisfied him because "he believed that the witchcraft was now powerless, and that he was guaranteed good luck in his fishing." 710

The need-fire among the Slavic peoples.

Slavonic peoples hold the need-fire in high esteem. [pg 281] They call it “living fire,” and attribute to it a healing virtue. The ascription of medicinal power to fire kindled by the friction of wood is said to be especially characteristic of the Slavs who inhabit the Carpathian Mountains and the Balkan peninsula. The mode in which they produce the need-fire differs somewhat in different places. Thus in the Schar mountains of Servia the task is entrusted to a boy and girl between eleven and fourteen years of age. They are led into a perfectly dark room, and having stripped themselves naked kindle the fire by rubbing two rollers of lime wood against each other, till the friction produces sparks, which are caught in tinder. The Serbs of Western Macedonia drive two oaken posts into the ground, bore a round hole in the upper end of each, insert a roller of lime wood in the holes, and set it revolving rapidly by means of a cord, which is looped round the roller and worked by a bow. Elsewhere the roller is put in motion by two men, who hold each one end of the cord and pull it backwards and forwards forcibly between them. Bulgarian shepherds sometimes kindle the need-fire by drawing a prism-shaped piece of lime wood to and fro across the flat surface of a tree-stump in the forest.711 But in the neighbourhood of Küstendil, in Bulgaria, the need-fire is kindled by the friction of two pieces of oak wood and the cattle are driven through it.712

Slavic people highly value the need-fire. They refer to it as “living fire” and believe it has healing properties. This belief in the medicinal power of fire created by rubbing wood together is particularly prominent among the Slavs living in the Carpathian Mountains and the Balkan Peninsula. The methods for creating need-fire vary somewhat from place to place. In the Schar Mountains of Serbia, the task is assigned to a boy and girl aged eleven to fourteen. They are taken into a completely dark room, strip naked, and create fire by rubbing two pieces of lime wood against each other until friction produces sparks, which are then caught in tinder. In Western Macedonia, Serbs drive two oak posts into the ground, drill a round hole in the top of each, insert a roller of lime wood into the holes, and rotate it quickly using a cord that they work with a bow. In other areas, the roller is moved by two men who each hold one end of the cord and pull it forcefully back and forth. Bulgarian shepherds sometimes create need-fire by sliding a prism-shaped piece of lime wood back and forth across the flat surface of a tree stump in the forest. However, near Küstendil in Bulgaria, the need-fire is made by rubbing two pieces of oak wood together, and cattle are driven through it.

The need-fire in Russia, Poland, and Slavonia.

In many districts of Russia, also, “living fire” is made by the friction of wood on St. John's Day, and the herds are driven through it, and the people leap over it in the conviction that their health is thereby assured; when a cattle-plague is raging, the fire is produced by rubbing two pieces of oak wood against each other, and it is used to kindle the lamps before the holy pictures and the censers in the churches.713 Thus it appears that in Russia the need-fire is kindled for the sake of the cattle periodically as well as on special emergencies. Similarly in Poland the peasants are said to kindle fires in [pg 282] the village streets on St. Rochus's day and to drive the cattle thrice through them in order to protect the animals against the murrain. The fire is produced by rubbing a pole of poplar wood on a plank of poplar or fir wood and catching the sparks in tow. The embers are carried home to be used as remedies in sickness.714 As practised in Slavonia, the custom of the need-fire used to present some interesting features, which are best described in the words of an eye-witness:—“In the year 1833 I came for the first time as a young merchant to Slavonia; it was to Gaj that I went, in the Požega district. The time was autumn, and it chanced that a cattle-plague was raging in the neighbourhood, which inflicted much loss on the people. The peasants believed that the plague was a woman, an evil spirit (Kuga), who was destroying the cattle; so they sought to banish her. I had then occasion to observe the proceedings in the villages of Gaj, Kukunjevac, Brezina, and Brekinjska. Towards evening the whole population of the village was busy laying a ring of brushwood round the boundaries of the village. All fires were extinguished throughout the village. Then pairs of men in several places took pieces of wood, which had been specially prepared for the purpose, and rubbed them together till they emitted sparks. The sparks were allowed to fall on tinder and fanned into a flame, with which the dry brushwood was kindled. Thus the fire burned all round the village. The peasants persuaded themselves that thereupon Kuga must take her departure.”715

In many areas of Russia, “living fire” is created by rubbing wood together on St. John's Day. The livestock are driven through it, and people jump over the flames, believing this ensures their health. When there’s an outbreak of cattle disease, the fire is made by rubbing two pieces of oak wood together, and it's used to light lamps before sacred images and censers in churches. Thus, it seems that in Russia, the need-fire is ignited both regularly for the cattle and during urgent situations. Similarly, in Poland, peasants are said to start fires in the village streets on St. Rochus's Day and drive their cattle through them three times to protect them from disease. The fire is created by rubbing a poplar pole against a plank of poplar or fir wood and catching the sparks in tow. The embers are taken home to be used as remedies for sickness. As practiced in Slavonia, the tradition of the need-fire had some interesting aspects, best described by an eyewitness:—“In 1833, I came for the first time as a young merchant to Slavonia; I visited Gaj in the Požega district. It was autumn, and coincidentally, a cattle plague was affecting the area, causing significant losses for the people. The peasants believed that the plague was a woman, an evil spirit (Kuga), who was destroying their cattle; thus, they sought to banish her. I had the chance to observe the events in the villages of Gaj, Kukunjevac, Brezina, and Brekinjska. In the evening, the entire village gathered to lay a ring of brushwood around the village's boundaries. All fires were put out in the village. Then, pairs of men in various places took specially prepared pieces of wood and rubbed them together until they created sparks. The sparks fell onto tinder and were fanned into a flame, which ignited the dry brushwood, creating a fire around the village. The peasants convinced themselves that Kuga must then leave.”

The need-fire in Serbia.

This last account leaves no doubt as to the significance of the need-fire in the minds of Slavonian peasantry. They regard it simply as a barrier interposed between their cattle and the evil spirit, which prowls, like a hungry wolf, round the fold and can, like a wolf, be kept at bay by fire. The same interpretation of the need-fire comes out, hardly less clearly, in the account which another writer gives of a ceremony witnessed by him at the village of Setonje, at the foot of the Homolje mountains in the great forest of Servia. An [pg 283] epidemic was raging among the children, and the need-fire was resorted to as a means of staying the plague. It was produced by an old man and an old woman in the first of the ways described above; that is, they made it in the dark by rubbing two sticks of lime wood against each other. Before the healing virtue of the fire was applied to the inhabitants of the village, two old women performed the following ceremony. Both bore the name of Stana, from the verb stati, “to remain standing”; for the ceremony could not be successfully performed by persons of any other name. One of them carried a copper kettle full of water, the other an old house-lock with the key. Thus equipped they repaired to a spot outside of the village, and there the old dame with the kettle asked the old dame with the lock, “Whither away?” and the other answered her, “I came to shut the village against ill-luck.” With that she locked the lock and threw it with the key into the kettle of water. Then they marched thrice round the village, repeating the ceremony of the lock and key at each round. Meantime all the villagers, arrayed in their best clothes, were assembled in an open place. All the fires in the houses had been previously extinguished. Two sturdy yokels now dug a tunnel through a mound beside an oak tree; the tunnel was just high enough to let a man creep through it on all fours. Two fires, lit by the need-fire, were now laid, one at each end of the tunnel; and the old woman with the kettle took her stand at the entrance of the tunnel, while the one with the lock posted herself at the exit. Facing the latter stood another woman with a great pot of milk before her, and on the other side was set a pot full of melted swine's fat. All was now ready. The villagers thereupon crawled through the tunnel on hands and knees, one behind the other. Each, as he emerged from the tunnel, received a spoonful of milk from the woman and looked at his face reflected in the pot of melted swine's fat. Then another woman made a cross with a piece of charcoal on his back. When all the inhabitants had thus crept through the tunnel and been doctored at the other end, each took some glowing embers home with him in a pot wherewith to rekindle the fire on the domestic hearth. Lastly they put some of the charcoal in a vessel [pg 284] of water and drank the mixture in order to be thereby magically protected against the epidemic.716

This final account makes it clear just how important need-fire is to the Slavonian peasants. They see it primarily as a protective barrier between their livestock and the evil spirit that lurks around their animals like a hungry wolf, which can be kept away with fire. Another writer shares a similar interpretation of need-fire based on a ceremony he observed in the village of Setonje, at the base of the Homolje Mountains in the vast forest of Servia. An epidemic was affecting the children, and they turned to need-fire to help stop the spread of the plague. An old man and an old woman created the fire in the dark by rubbing two lime wood sticks together, as previously described. Before using the fire’s healing power on the villagers, two elderly women performed a specific ceremony. Both were named Stana, from the verb stati, "to stay standing"; this ceremony could only be done by someone with that name. One woman carried a copper kettle filled with water, while the other held an old lock with its key. They went to a spot outside the village, where the woman with the kettle asked the woman with the lock, “Where are you headed?” and the other replied, "I came to protect the village from bad luck." With that, she locked the lock and tossed it with the key into the kettle. Then they walked around the village three times, repeating the lock and key ritual at each round. Meanwhile, all the villagers dressed in their finest clothes gathered in an open space. All the fires in the homes had been put out beforehand. Two strong men dug a tunnel through a mound next to an oak tree; the tunnel was just tall enough for a person to crawl through. Two fires ignited by need-fire were placed at each end of the tunnel; the woman with the kettle stood at the tunnel’s entrance while the one with the lock positioned herself at the exit. Facing her was another woman with a large pot of milk, and on the other side sat a pot of melted lard. Everything was now set. The villagers crawled through the tunnel one by one. As each person came out, they received a spoonful of milk from the woman and looked at their reflection in the pot of melted lard. Then another woman made a cross on their back using a piece of charcoal. Once all the villagers had crawled through the tunnel and been treated at the other end, each took some glowing embers home in a pot to relight their hearth. Finally, they mixed some of the charcoal in a vessel with water and drank the mixture for magical protection against the epidemic.716

It would be superfluous to point out in detail how admirably these measures are calculated to arrest the ravages of disease; but for the sake of those, if there are any, to whom the medicinal effect of crawling through a hole on hands and knees is not at once apparent, I shall merely say that the procedure in question is one of the most powerful specifics which the wit of man has devised for maladies of all sorts. Ample evidence of its application will be adduced in a later part of this work.717

It would be unnecessary to explain in detail how well these measures are designed to stop the spread of disease; however, for those who might not immediately see the healing benefits of crawling through a hole on their hands and knees, I will simply state that this method is one of the most effective treatments that human ingenuity has come up with for various ailments. Plenty of evidence of its use will be presented later in this work.717

The need-fire in Bulgaria.

In Bulgaria the herds suffer much from the raids of certain blood-sucking vampyres called Ustrels. An Ustrel is the spirit of a Christian child who was born on a Saturday and died unfortunately before he could be baptized. On the ninth day after burial he grubs his way out of the grave and attacks the cattle at once, sucking their blood all night and returning at peep of dawn to the grave to rest from his labours. In ten days or so the copious draughts of blood which he has swallowed have so fortified his constitution that he can undertake longer journeys; so when he falls in with great herds of cattle or flocks of sheep he returns no more to the grave for rest and refreshment at night, but takes up his quarters during the day either between the horns of a sturdy calf or ram or between the hind legs of a milch-cow. Beasts whose blood he has sucked die the same night. In any herd that he may fasten on he begins with the fattest animal and works his way down steadily through the leaner kine till not one single beast is left alive. The carcases of the victims swell up, and when the hide is stripped off you can always perceive the livid patch of flesh where the monster sucked the blood of the poor creature. In a single night he may, by working hard, kill five cows; but he seldom exceeds that number. He can change his shape and weight very easily; for example, when he is sitting by day between the horns of a ram, the animal scarcely feels his weight, but at night he will sometimes throw himself on an ox or a cow [pg 285] so heavily that the animal cannot stir, and lows so pitifully that it would make your heart bleed to hear. People who were born on a Saturday can see these monsters, and they have described them accurately, so that there can be no doubt whatever about their existence. It is, therefore, a matter of great importance to the peasant to protect his flocks and herds against the ravages of such dangerous vampyres. The way in which he does so is this. On a Saturday morning before sunrise the village drummer gives the signal to put out every fire in the village; even smoking is forbidden. Next all the domestic animals, with the exception of fowls, geese, and ducks, are driven out into the open. In front of the flocks and herds march two men, whose names during the ceremony may not be mentioned in the village. They go into the wood, pick two dry branches, and having stript themselves of their clothes they rub the two branches together very hard till they catch fire; then with the fire so obtained they kindle two bonfires, one on each side of a cross-road which is known to be frequented by wolves. After that the herd is driven between the two fires. Coals from the bonfires are then taken back to the village and used to rekindle the fires on the domestic hearths. For several days no one may go near the charred and blackened remains of the bonfires at the cross-road. The reason is that the vampyre is lying there, having dropped from his seat between the cow's horns when the animals were driven between the two fires. So if any one were to pass by the spot during these days, the monster would be sure to call him by name and to follow him to the village; whereas if he is left alone, a wolf will come at midnight and strangle him, and in a few days the herdsmen can see the ground soaked with his slimy blood. So that is the end of the vampyre.718 In this Bulgarian custom, as in the Slavonian custom described above, the conception of the need-fire as a barrier set up between the cattle and a dangerous spirit is clearly worked out. The spirit rides the cow till he comes to the narrow pass between the two fires, but the heat there is too much for him; he drops in a faint from the saddle, or rather from the horns, and the now riderless animal escapes safe and sound [pg 286] beyond the smoke and flame, leaving her persecutor prostrate on the ground on the further side of the blessed barrier.

In Bulgaria, the herds suffer greatly from the attacks of certain blood-sucking creatures known as Ustrels. An Ustrel is the spirit of a Christian child who was born on a Saturday and unfortunately died before being baptized. On the ninth day after being buried, he claws his way out of the grave and immediately attacks the cattle, drinking their blood all night and returning to the grave at dawn to rest from his activities. In about ten days, the large amounts of blood he has consumed strengthen him enough for longer journeys. So, when he encounters large herds of cattle or flocks of sheep, he no longer returns to the grave for rest at night but settles during the day either between the horns of a strong calf or ram or between the hind legs of a milking cow. Animals whose blood he has sucked die that same night. In any herd he targets, he starts with the fattest animal and continues down through the leaner ones until every single beast is dead. The carcasses of the victims swell up, and when the hide is removed, you can always see the dark patch of flesh where the monster drained the blood of the poor creature. In one night, he might, through hard work, kill five cows; however, he rarely goes above that number. He can easily change his shape and weight; for instance, when he sits during the day between the horns of a ram, the animal barely senses his weight, but at night he might suddenly land on an ox or cow [pg 285] so heavily that the animal cannot move, crying out so pitifully that it would break your heart to hear. People born on a Saturday can see these monsters, and they have described them accurately, leaving no doubt about their existence. Therefore, it is crucial for the peasant to protect his flocks and herds from the destruction caused by these dangerous creatures. The way he does this is as follows: on a Saturday morning before sunrise, the village drummer signals to put out every fire in the village; even smoking is prohibited. Next, all domestic animals, except for chickens, geese, and ducks, are driven outside. In front of the flocks and herds march two men, whose names cannot be mentioned during the ceremony. They go into the woods, pick two dry branches, and after stripping off their clothes, rub the branches together vigorously until they catch fire; then, using the fire, they light two bonfires, one on each side of a road known to be frequented by wolves. After that, the herd is driven between the two fires. Coals from the bonfires are brought back to the village to rekindle the fires in the homes. For several days, no one is allowed near the charred remains of the bonfires at the road. The reason for this is that the vampire is lying there, having fallen from his place between the cow's horns when the animals passed between the two fires. If anyone were to pass by during those days, the monster would surely call his name and follow him to the village; but if left alone, a wolf would come at midnight and strangle him, and in a few days, the herdsmen would see the ground soaked with his slimy blood. So that is the end of the vampire.718 In this Bulgarian custom, as in the Slavonian custom described earlier, the idea of the need-fire as a barrier between the cattle and a dangerous spirit is clearly articulated. The spirit rides the cow until it reaches the narrow space between the two fires, but the heat there is too much for him; he falls into a faint from his position, or rather from the horns, and the now riderless animal escapes safely [pg 286] beyond the smoke and flame, leaving the persecutor lying on the ground on the other side of the blessed barrier.

The need-fire in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

In Bosnia and Herzegovina there are some local differences in the mode of kindling the need-fire, or “living fire,” as it is called. Thus at Jablanica both the uprights and the roller or cross-piece, which by its revolution kindles the fire, are made of cornel-tree wood; whereas at Dolac, near Sarajevo, the uprights and the cross-piece or roller are all made of lime wood. In Gacko, contrary to the usual custom, the fire is made by striking a piece of iron on an anvil, till sparks are given out, which are caught in tinder. The “living fire” thus produced is employed for purposes of healing. In particular, if any one suffers from wounds or sores, ashes of the need-fire are sprinkled on the ailing part. In Gacko it is also believed that if a pregnant woman witnesses a conflagration, her child will either be born with a red eruption on its skin or will contract the malady sooner or later afterwards. The only remedy consists in ashes of the need-fire, which are mixed with water and given to the child to drink.719

In Bosnia and Herzegovina, there are some local differences in how the need-fire, or “living fire” is kindled. For example, at Jablanica, both the vertical pieces and the rolling or cross-piece, which creates the fire through its movement, are made from cornel-tree wood. In contrast, at Dolac, near Sarajevo, the vertical pieces and the cross-piece or roller are made from lime wood. Unusually, in Gacko, the fire is made by striking a piece of iron on an anvil until sparks fly, which are then caught in tinder. The "living flame" created this way is used for healing purposes. Specifically, if someone has wounds or sores, ashes from the need-fire are sprinkled on the affected area. Gacko residents also believe that if a pregnant woman sees a fire, her child will be born with a red rash or will develop the condition later on. The only remedy is to mix the ashes of the need-fire with water and give it to the child to drink.719

The need-fire in England, in Yorkshire.

In England the earliest notice of the need-fire seems to be contained in the Chronicle of Lanercost for the year 1268. The annalist tells with pious horror how, when an epidemic was raging in that year among the cattle, “certain beastly men, monks in garb but not in mind, taught the idiots of their country to make fire by the friction of wood and to set up an image of Priapus, whereby they thought to succour the animals.”720 The use of the need-fire is particularly attested for the counties of Yorkshire and Northumberland. Thus in Yorkshire down to the middle of the eighteenth century “the favourite remedy of the country [pg 287] people, not only in the way of cure, but of prevention, was an odd one; it was to smoke the cattle almost to suffocation, by kindling straw, litter, and other combustible matter about them. The effects of this mode of cure are not stated, but the most singular part of it was that by which it was reported to have been discovered. An angel (says the legend), descended into Yorkshire, and there set a large tree on fire; the strange appearance of which or else the savour of the smoke, incited the cattle around (some of which were infected) to draw near the miracle, when they all either received an immediate cure or an absolute prevention of the disorder. It is not affirmed that the angel staid to speak to anybody, but only that he left a written direction for the neighbouring people to catch this supernatural fire, and to communicate it from one to another with all possible speed throughout the country; and in case it should be extinguished and utterly lost, that then new fire, of equal virtue, might be obtained, not by any common method, but by rubbing two pieces of wood together till they ignited. Upon what foundation this story stood, is not exactly known, but it put the farmers actually into a hurry of communicating flame and smoke from one house to another with wonderful speed, making it run like wildfire over the country.”721 Again, we read that “the father of the writer, who died in 1843, in his seventy-ninth year, had a perfect remembrance of a great number of persons, belonging to the upper and middle classes of his native parish of Bowes, assembling on the banks of the river Greta to work for need-fire. A disease among cattle, called the murrain, then prevailed to a very great extent through that district of Yorkshire. The cattle were made to pass through the smoke raised by this miraculous fire, and their cure was looked upon as certain, and to neglect doing so was looked upon as wicked. This fire was produced by the violent and continued friction of two dry pieces of wood until such time as it was thereby obtained. ‘To work as though one was working for need-fire’ [pg 288] is a common proverb in the North of England.”722 At Ingleton, a small town nestling picturesquely at the foot of the high hill of Ingleborough in western Yorkshire, “within the last thirty years or so it was a common practice to kindle the so-called ‘Need-fire’ by rubbing two pieces of wood briskly together, and setting ablaze a large heap of sticks and brushwood, which were dispersed, and cattle then driven through the smoking brands. This was thought to act as a charm against the spread or developement of the various ailments to which cattle are liable, and the farmers seem to have had great faith in it.”723 Writing about the middle of the nineteenth century, Kemble tells us that the will-fire or need-fire had been used in Devonshire for the purpose of staying a murrain within the memory of man.724

In England, the earliest mention of need-fire appears in the Chronicle of Lanercost for the year 1268. The author describes with a sense of horror how, during an epidemic affecting cattle that year, "Some immoral men, who looked like monks but didn't act like them, taught the gullible people in their land how to make fire by rubbing wood together and to erect a statue of Priapus, thinking it would benefit the animals."720 The practice of need-fire is particularly noted in Yorkshire and Northumberland. In Yorkshire, even up until the mid-eighteenth century, The common remedy among the locals, used both for treatment and prevention, was quite unusual; they would smoke the cattle almost to the point of suffocation by igniting straw, bedding, and other flammable materials around them. The results of this treatment are uncertain, but the most peculiar part was how it was supposedly discovered. According to legend, an angel came down to Yorkshire and set a large tree on fire; the strange sight or the smell of the smoke attracted nearby cattle (some of which were sick) toward the miracle, and they either received an instant cure or were completely prevented from getting sick. It isn’t mentioned that the angel spoke to anyone, only that he left a written instruction for the locals to quickly spread this miraculous fire throughout the region; and if the fire went out and was lost, they were to create a new one, just as powerful, by rubbing two pieces of wood together until they caught fire. The origins of this story aren’t exactly known, but it certainly motivated farmers to quickly share flame and smoke from house to house, spreading it rapidly across the countryside.721 Furthermore, we learn that The author’s father, who died in 1843 at the age of seventy-nine, clearly remembered many people from the upper and middle classes in his hometown of Bowes coming together by the banks of the river Greta to create need-fire. At that time, the area in Yorkshire was heavily affected by a widespread cattle disease known as murrain. Cattle were made to pass through the smoke from this miraculous fire, and their healing was believed to be guaranteed; failing to do so was seen as wrong. This fire was created by intensely and persistently rubbing two dry pieces of wood together. ‘To work as though one was working for need-fire’ [pg 288] is a common saying in northern England.722 In Ingleton, a small town nestled at the foot of the high hill of Ingleborough in western Yorkshire, "In the last thirty years or so, it was common to create what's called a ‘Need-fire’ by vigorously rubbing two pieces of wood together to spark a large pile of sticks and brushwood. This pile was then spread out, and cattle were driven through the smoky coals. It was thought to act as a charm against different illnesses that affect cattle, and the farmers seemed to have a lot of faith in it."723 Writing in the mid-nineteenth century, Kemble informs us that will-fire or need-fire had been used in Devonshire to combat murrain within living memory.724

The need-fire in Northumberland.

So in Northumberland, down to the first half of the nineteenth century, “when a contagious disease enters among cattle, the fires are extinguished in the adjacent villages. Two pieces of dried wood are then rubbed together until fire be produced; with this a quantity of straw is kindled, juniper is thrown into the flame, and the cattle are repeatedly driven through the smoke. Part of the forced fire is sent to the neighbours, who again forward it to others, and, as great expedition is used, the fires may be seen blazing over a great extent of country in a very short space of time.”725 “It is strange,” says the antiquary William Henderson, writing about 1866, “to find the custom of lighting ‘need-fires’ on the occasion of epidemics among cattle still lingering among us, but so it is. The vicar of Stamfordham writes thus [pg 289] respecting it: ‘When the murrain broke out among the cattle about eighteen years ago, this fire was produced by rubbing two pieces of dry wood together, and was carried from place to place all through this district, as a charm against cattle taking the disease. Bonfires were kindled with it, and the cattle driven into the smoke, where they were left for some time. Many farmers hereabouts, I am informed, had the need-fire.’ ”726

So in Northumberland, up until the first half of the nineteenth century, "When a contagious disease hits cattle, the fires in nearby villages are extinguished. Then two pieces of dried wood are rubbed together to create a flame; with that, a bundle of straw is lit, juniper is added to the fire, and the cattle are led through the smoke multiple times. Some of the fire is shared with the neighbors, who pass it on to others, and since this happens quickly, the fires can be seen burning across a large area in no time."725 "That's weird," says the historian William Henderson, writing around 1866, "People still practice the custom of lighting ‘need-fires’ during cattle epidemics, and it’s true. The vicar of Stamfordham shares this about it: ‘When the cattle disease broke out about eighteen years ago, this fire was created by rubbing two dry pieces of wood together, and it was moved around this area as a charm to protect the cattle from the disease. Bonfires were lit from it, and the cattle were driven into the smoke, where they stayed for a while. Many farmers in this area have told me they used the need-fire.’"726

Martin's description of the need-fire in the Scottish Highlands.

In the earliest systematic account of the western islands of Scotland we read that “the inhabitants here did also make use of a fire called Tin-egin, i.e. a forced fire, or fire of necessity, which they used as an antidote against the plague or murrain in cattle; and it was performed thus: all the fires in the parish were extinguished, and then eighty-one married men, being thought the necessary number for effecting this design, took two great planks of wood, and nine of them were employed by turns, who by their repeated efforts rubbed one of the planks against the other until the heat thereof produced fire; and from this forced fire each family is supplied with new fire, which is no sooner kindled than a pot full of water is quickly set on it, and afterwards sprinkled upon the people infected with the plague, or upon the cattle that have the murrain. And this they all say they find successful by experience: it was practised in the main land, opposite to the south of Skie, within these thirty years.”727

In the earliest organized account of the western islands of Scotland, it says that The locals used a fire known as Tin-egin, i.e. a forced fire or fire of necessity, which acted as a remedy for the plague or disease in cattle. Here’s how it worked: all the fires in the parish were extinguished, and then eighty-one married men, the necessary number for this task, took two large wooden planks. Nine of them worked in shifts, rubbing one plank against the other repeatedly until the friction created heat and fire. From this forced fire, each family would light their own fire, and once it was lit, they quickly placed a pot full of water on it and sprinkled the water on people infected with the plague or on cattle that were sick. They all claim to have found this method effective based on their experiences: it was practiced on the mainland, just south of Skye, within the last thirty years.727

The need-fire on the island of Mull. Sacrifice of a heifer.

In the island of Mull, one of the largest of the Hebrides, the need-fire was kindled as late as 1767. “In consequence of a disease among the black cattle the people agreed to perform an incantation, though they esteemed it a wicked thing. They carried to the top of Cammoor a wheel and nine spindles of oakwood. They extinguished every fire in [pg 290] every house within sight of the hill; the wheel was then turned from east to west over the nine spindles long enough to produce fire by friction. If the fire were not produced before noon, the incantation lost its effect. They failed for several days running. They attributed this failure to the obstinacy of one householder, who would not let his fires be put out for what he considered so wrong a purpose. However, by bribing his servants they contrived to have them extinguished and on that morning raised their fire. They then sacrificed a heifer, cutting in pieces and burning, while yet alive, the diseased part. They then lighted their own hearths from the pile and ended by feasting on the remains. Words of incantation were repeated by an old man from Morven, who came over as master of the ceremonies, and who continued speaking all the time the fire was being raised. This man was living a beggar at Bellochroy. Asked to repeat the spell, he said, the sin of repeating it once had brought him to beggary, and that he dared not say those words again. The whole country believed him accursed.”728 From this account we see that in Mull the kindling of the need-fire as a remedy for cattle disease was accompanied by the sacrifice of one of the diseased animals; and though the two customs are for the most part mentioned separately by our authorities, we may surmise that they were often, perhaps usually, practised together for the purpose of checking the ravages of sickness in the herds.729

On the island of Mull, one of the largest of the Hebrides, the need-fire was lit as late as 1767. Because of a disease affecting the black cattle, the people decided to perform an incantation, even though they thought it was wrong. They took a wheel and nine oak spindles to the top of Cammoor. They extinguished every fire in [pg 290] all the houses visible from the hill; then they spun the wheel from east to west over the nine spindles long enough to create fire by friction. If they didn't produce fire by noon, the incantation would lose its effectiveness. They struggled for several days. They blamed their failure on one householder who wouldn't let his fires be put out for what he considered a foolish reason. However, by bribing his servants, they managed to have the fires extinguished, and that morning they generated their fire. They then sacrificed a heifer, cutting it into pieces and burning the diseased part while it was still alive. They lit their own hearths from the pile and finished by feasting on the leftovers. An old man from Morven, who was the master of ceremonies, repeatedly spoke the incantation as the fire was being lit. This man lived as a beggar at Bellochroy. When asked to recite the spell, he said that repeating it once had led him to beggary and that he couldn't dare to say those words again. The entire community believed he was cursed.728 From this account, we see that in Mull, the kindling of the need-fire as a remedy for cattle disease involved the sacrifice of one of the sick animals; and although our references mostly mention the two customs separately, we can assume they were often, if not usually, practiced together to combat illness in the herds.729

The need-fire in Caithness.

In the county of Caithness, forming the extreme north-east corner of the mainland of Scotland, the practice of the need-fire survived down at least to about 1788. We read that “in those days, when the stock of any considerable farmer was seized with the murrain, he would send for one of the charm-doctors to superintend the raising of a need-fire. It was done by friction, thus; upon any small island, where the stream of a river or burn ran on each side, a circular booth was erected, of stone and turf, as it could be had, in [pg 291] which a semicircular or highland couple of birch, or other hard wood, was set; and, in short, a roof closed on it. A straight pole was set up in the centre of this building, the upper end fixed by a wooden pin to the top of the couple, and the lower end in an oblong trink in the earth or floor; and lastly, another pole was set across horizontally, having both ends tapered, one end of which was supported in a hole in the side of the perpendicular pole, and the other in a similar hole in the couple leg. The horizontal stick was called the auger, having four short arms or levers fixed in its centre, to work it by; the building having been thus finished, as many men as could be collected in the vicinity, (being divested of all kinds of metal in their clothes, etc.), would set to work with the said auger, two after two, constantly turning it round by the arms or levers, and others occasionally driving wedges of wood or stone behind the lower end of the upright pole, so as to press it the more on the end of the auger: by this constant friction and pressure, the ends of the auger would take fire, from which a fire would be instantly kindled, and thus the need-fire would be accomplished. The fire in the farmer's house, etc., was immediately quenched with water, a fire kindled from this need-fire, both in the farm-houses and offices, and the cattle brought to feel the smoke of this new and sacred fire, which preserved them from the murrain.”730

In Caithness, located in the far northeast corner of mainland Scotland, the practice of need-fire continued to exist until around 1788. It is noted that “back then, if a significant farmer's livestock was affected by disease, he would call in a charm-doctor to oversee the creation of a need fire. This was done through friction: on a small island where a river flowed on either side, a circular booth was built using stone and turf as available. Inside, a semicircular or highland pair of birch or other hardwood was placed, and a roof was constructed overhead. A straight pole was positioned in the center of this structure, with the top secured by a wooden pin to the apex of the couple and the bottom fixed into an oblong in the ground or floor. Finally, another pole was laid horizontally across, sharpened at both ends; one end rested in a hole on the side of the upright pole, and the other in a similar hole on the couple leg. This horizontal stick was referred to as the auger, featuring four short arms or levers attached in the middle for operation. Once set up, as many men as possible from the area (removing all metal from their clothing, etc.) would work the auger, two by two, continually turning it with the levers. Others would occasionally insert wooden or stone wedges behind the base of the upright pole to press it harder against the auger's end. Through this constant friction and pressure, the ends of the auger would ignite, starting a fire, and thus the need fire was achieved. The fire in the farmer's house would then be immediately extinguished with water, and a fire would be kindled from this need-fire in both the farmhouses and barns, allowing the cattle to be brought close to experience the smoke of this new and sacred fire, which protected them from disease.”730

The need-fire in Caithness.

The last recorded case of the need-fire in Caithness happened in 1809 or 1810. At Houstry, Dunbeath, a crofter named David Gunn had made for himself a kail-yard and in doing so had wilfully encroached on one of those prehistoric ruins called brochs, which the people of the neighbourhood believed to be a fairy habitation. Soon afterwards a murrain broke out among the cattle of the district and carried off many beasts. So the wise men put their heads together and resolved to light a teine-eigin or need-fire as the best way of stopping the plague. They cut a branch from a tree in a neighbouring wood, stripped it of bark, and carried it to a small island in the Houstry Burn. Every fire in the [pg 292] district having been quenched, new fire was made by the friction of wood in the island, and from this sacred flame all the hearths of the houses were lit afresh. One of the sticks used in making the fire was preserved down to about the end of the nineteenth century; apparently the mode of operation was the one known as the fire-drill: a pointed stick was twirled in a hole made in another stick till fire was elicited by the friction.731

The last recorded case of need-fire in Caithness happened in 1809 or 1810. In Houstry, Dunbeath, a crofter named David Gunn created a kail-yard and, in doing so, illegally intruded on one of those ancient ruins called brochs, which the locals believed to be a fairy dwelling. Shortly after, a disease broke out among the local cattle, resulting in many deaths. So, the wise men gathered and decided that lighting a teine-eigin or need-fire was the best way to stop the plague. They cut a branch from a tree in a nearby forest, stripped it of bark, and took it to a small island in the Houstry Burn. After all the fires in the [pg 292] district had been extinguished, they created new fire by rubbing wood together on the island, and from this sacred flame, all the hearths in the homes were rekindled. One of the sticks used to start the fire was preserved until about the end of the nineteenth century; apparently, the method used was the fire-drill: a pointed stick was spun in a hole made in another stick until it generated fire through friction.731

Another account of the need-fire in the Highlands.

Another account of the use of need-fire in the Highlands of Scotland runs as follows: “When, by the neglect of the prescribed safeguards [against witchcraft], the seeds of iniquity have taken root, and a person's means are decaying in consequence, the only alternative, in this case, is to resort to that grand remedy, the Tein Econuch, or ‘Forlorn Fire,’ which seldom fails of being productive of the best effects. The cure for witchcraft, called Tein Econuch, is wrought in the following manner:—A consultation being held by the unhappy sufferer and his friends as to the most advisable measures of effecting a cure, if this process is adopted, notice is privately communicated to all those householders who reside within the nearest of two running streams, to extinguish their lights and fires on some appointed morning. On its being ascertained that this notice has been duly observed, a spinning-wheel, or some other convenient instrument, calculated to produce fire by friction, is set to work with the most furious earnestness by the unfortunate sufferer, and all who wish well to his cause. Relieving each other by turns, they drive on with such persevering diligence, that at length the spindle of the wheel, ignited by excessive friction, emits ‘forlorn fire’ in abundance, which, by the application of tow, or some other combustible material, is widely extended over the whole neighbourhood. Communicating the fire to the tow, the tow communicates it to a candle, the candle to a fir-torch, the torch to a cartful of peats, which the master of the ceremonies, with pious ejaculations for the success of the experiment, distributes to messengers, who will proceed with portions of it to the different houses within the said two running streams, to kindle the different fires. By the influence [pg 293] of this operation, the machinations and spells of witchcraft are rendered null and void.”732

Another account of the use of need-fire in the Highlands of Scotland goes like this: "When the necessary protections against witchcraft are ignored and bad actions begin to take hold, causing someone’s resources to deplete, the only solution in this situation is to turn to the powerful remedy known as Tein Econuch, or ‘Forlorn Fire,’ which almost always leads to positive outcomes. The process for addressing witchcraft, called Tein Econuch, is done as follows: A meeting is arranged with the affected person and their friends to determine the best cure, and if this method is selected, all householders near the closest of two running streams are discreetly informed to put out their lights and fires on a designated morning. After confirming everyone has followed this instruction, the unfortunate individual and their supporters actively use a spinning-wheel or another tool that creates fire through friction. Taking turns, they work so hard that eventually the spindle of the wheel, heated by intense friction, produces a large quantity of ‘forlorn fire’, which, when applied to tow or another easily ignitable material, is spread throughout the neighborhood. The fire is transferred from the tow to a candle, then from the candle to a fir-torch, and finally from the torch to a load of peat, which the organizer, with genuine hopes for success, gives to messengers who will deliver portions to different houses within the mentioned two running streams to relight their fires. Through this ritual's influence, the plots and curses of witchcraft are neutralized."732

Alexander Carmichael's description of the need-fire in the Scottish Highlands during the nineteenth century.

In various parts of the Highlands of Scotland the need-fire was still kindled during the first half of the nineteenth century, as we learn from the following account:—

In different areas of the Scottish Highlands, the need-fire was still lit during the first half of the nineteenth century, as we learn from the following account:—

Tein-eigin, neid-fire, need-fire, forced fire, fire produced by the friction of wood or iron against wood.

Tein-eigin, ritual fire, need-fire, a fire made by rubbing wood or iron against wood.”

“The fire of purification was kindled from the neid-fire, while the domestic fire on the hearth was re-kindled from the purification fire on the knoll. Among other names, the purification fire was called Teine Bheuil, fire of Beul, and Teine mor Bheuil, great fire of Beul. The fire of Beul was divided into two fires between which people and cattle rushed australly for purposes of purification. The ordeal was trying, as may be inferred from phrases still current. Is teodha so na teine teodha Bheuil, ‘Hotter is this than the hot fire of Beul.’ Replying to his grandchild, an old man in Lewis said ... ‘Mary! sonnie, it were worse for me to do that for thee than to go between the two great fires of Beul.’

The purification fire was lit from the neid-fire, and the home fire on the hearth was rekindled from the purification fire on the hill. The purification fire was also known by names like Teine Bheuil, fire of Beul, and Teine mor Bheuil, great fire of Beul. The fire of Beul was divided into two fires, and people and cattle would rush between them for purification. The experience was intense, as suggested by expressions still used today. Is teodha so na teine teodha Bheuil, ‘This is hotter than the hot fire of Beul.’ In response to his grandchild, an old man in Lewis said ... ‘Mary! sonnie, it would be harder for me to do that for you than to go between the two great fires of Beul.’

“The neid-fire was resorted to in imminent or actual calamity upon the first day of the quarter, and to ensure success in great or important events.

The neid-fire was used in situations of serious danger on the first day of the quarter, and to ensure success in major or significant events.

The need-fire on Arran.

“The writer conversed with several persons who saw the neid-fire made, and who joined in the ceremony. As mentioned elsewhere, a woman in Arran said that her father, and the other men of the townland, made the neid-fire on the knoll on La buidhe Bealltain—Yellow Day of Beltane. They fed the fire from cuaile mor conaidh caoin—great bundles of sacred faggots brought to the knoll on Beltane Eve. When the sacred fire became kindled, the people rushed home and brought their herds and drove them through and round the fire of purification, to sain them from the bana bhuitseach mhor Nic Creafain Mac Creafain—the great arch witch Mac Crauford, now Crawford. That was in the second decade of this century.

The writer spoke with several people who witnessed the neid-fire being made and took part in the ceremony. As mentioned elsewhere, a woman from Arran said that her father and the other men from the area created the neid-fire on the hill on La buidhe Bealltain—Yellow Day of Beltane. They fueled the fire with cuaile mor conaidh caoin—large bundles of sacred faggots brought to the hill on Beltane Eve. When the sacred fire was lit, the people rushed home to gather their livestock and drove them through and around the fire of purification to bless them against the bana bhuitseach mhor Nic Creafain Mac Creafain—the great arch witch Mac Crauford, now Crawford. That was during the second decade of this century.

The need-fire in North Uist.

“John Macphail, Middlequarter, North Uist, said that [pg 294] the last occasion on which the neid-fire was made in North Uist was bliadhna an t-sneachda bhuidhe—the year of the yellow snow—1829 (?). The snow lay so deep and remained so long on the ground, that it became yellow. Some suggest that the snow was originally yellow, as snow is occasionally red. This extraordinary continuance of snow caused much want and suffering throughout the Isles. The people of North Uist extinguished their own fires and generated a purification fire at Sail Dharaich, Sollas. The fire was produced from an oak log by rapidly boring with an auger. This was accomplished by the exertions of naoi naoinear ciad ginealach mac—the nine nines of first-begotten sons. From the neid-fire produced on the knoll the people of the parish obtained fire for their dwellings. Many cults and ceremonies were observed on the occasion, cults and ceremonies in which Pagan and Christian beliefs intermingled. Sail Dharaich, Oak Log, obtained its name from the log of oak for the neid-fire being there. A fragment of this log riddled with auger holes marks a grave in Cladh Sgealoir, the burying-ground of Sgealoir, in the neighbourhood.

John Macphail from Middlequarter, North Uist, noted that the last time the neid-fire was made in North Uist was in 1829, also known as the year of the yellow snow. The snow was so deep and lasted so long that it turned yellow. Some people believe that the snow was yellow from the start since snow can occasionally appear red. This extended period of snow caused a lot of hardship and suffering throughout the Isles. The residents of North Uist extinguished their own fires and created a purification fire at Sail Dharaich in Sollas. They made the fire from an oak log by quickly boring into it with an auger. This was accomplished with the help of the nine nines of first-born sons. From the neid-fire created on the knoll, locals got fire for their homes. Many rituals and ceremonies occurred during this time, blending Pagan and Christian beliefs. Sail Dharaich, or Oak Log, got its name from the oak log used for the neid-fire that was located there. A piece of this log, marked with auger holes, serves as a grave in Cladh Sgealoir, the burial ground of Sgealoir in the area.

The need-fire in Reay, Sutherland.

“Mr. Alexander Mackay, Edinburgh, a native of Reay, Sutherland, says:—‘My father was the skipper of a fishing crew. Before beginning operations for the season, the crew of the boat met at night in our house to settle accounts for the past, and to plan operations for the new season. My mother and the rest of us were sent to bed. I lay in the kitchen, and was listening and watching, though they thought I was asleep. After the men had settled their past affairs and future plans, they put out the fire on the hearth, not a spark being allowed to live. They then rubbed two pieces of wood one against another so rapidly as to produce fire, the men joining in one after the other, and working with the utmost energy and never allowing the friction to relax. From this friction-fire they rekindled the fire on the hearth, from which all the men present carried away a kindling to their own homes. Whether their success was due to their skill, their industry, their perseverance, or to the neid-fire, I do not know, but I know that they were much the most successful crew in the place. They met on Saturday, and went to church on Sunday like the good men [pg 295] and the good Christians they were—a little of their Pagan faith mingling with their Christian belief. I have reason to believe that other crews in the place as well as my father's crew practised the neid-fire.’

Mr. Alexander Mackay, who is from Edinburgh but originally hails from Reay, Sutherland, says:—‘My father was the captain of a fishing crew. Before the season began, the crew would gather at our house at night to settle old accounts and plan for the new season. My mother and the rest of us were sent to bed. I lay in the kitchen, listening and watching, even though they thought I was asleep. After the men had sorted out their previous matters and future plans, they put out the fire in the hearth, making sure not a single spark remained. They then quickly rubbed two pieces of wood together to create fire, with each man taking a turn, working hard and never letting the friction die down. From this friction fire, they rekindled the hearth fire, and all the men present took a piece of the kindling home with them. I’m not sure if their success came from their skill, hard work, determination, or the neid-fire, but I do know they were by far the most successful crew in the area. They met on Saturdays and attended church on Sundays, like the good men and good Christians they were—blending a bit of their Pagan beliefs with their Christian faith. I have reason to believe that other crews in the area, including my father's crew, practiced the neid-fire.’

“A man at Helmsdale, Sutherland, saw the tein-eigin made in his boyhood.

A man from Helmsdale, Sutherland, saw the tein-eigin created during his childhood.

“The neid-fire was made in North Uist about the year 1829, in Arran about 1820, in Helmsdale about 1818, in Reay about 1830.”733

“The neid-fire was established in North Uist around 1829, in Arran around 1820, in Helmsdale around 1818, and in Reay around 1830.”733

The Beltane fires serve as a precaution against witchcraft.

From the foregoing account we learn that in Arran the annual Beltane fire was regularly made by the friction of wood, and that it was used to protect men and cattle against a great witch. When we remember that Beltane Eve or the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night) is the great witching time of the year throughout Europe, we may surmise that wherever bonfires have been ceremonially kindled on that day it has been done simply as a precaution against witchcraft; indeed this motive is expressly alleged not only in Scotland, but in Wales, the Isle of Man, and many parts of Central Europe.734 It deserves, further, to be noticed that in North Uist the wood used to kindle the need-fire was oak, and that the nine times nine men by whose exertions the flame was elicited were all first-born sons. Apparently the first-born son of a family was thought to be endowed with more magical virtue than his younger brothers. Similarly in the Punjaub “the supernatural power ascribed to the first born is not due to his being unlucky, but the idea underlying the belief seems to be that being the first product of the parents, he inherits the spiritual powers (or magnetism) in a high degree. The success of such persons in stopping rain and hail and in stupefying snakes is proverbial. It is believed that a first child born with feet forward can cure backache by kicking the patient in the back, on a crossing.”735

From the previous account, we learn that in Arran, the annual Beltane fire was regularly created by rubbing wood together, and that it was used to protect people and cattle from a powerful witch. When we remember that Beltane Eve or May Day Eve (Walpurgis Night) is the major witching time of the year throughout Europe, we can guess that wherever bonfires have been ceremonially lit on that day, it has been done as a precaution against witchcraft; in fact, this reason is explicitly mentioned not just in Scotland, but also in Wales, the Isle of Man, and many regions of Central Europe.734 It is also worth noting that in North Uist, the wood used to ignite the need-fire was oak, and that the nine times nine men who worked to create the flame were all first-born sons. It seems that the first-born son of a family was believed to possess more magical power than his younger siblings. Similarly, in the Punjaub "The supernatural power believed to be associated with the first-born isn't due to bad luck; rather, it's based on the idea that being the first child of the parents grants them strong spiritual powers (or magnetism). It's well known that these individuals can stop rain and hail and can daze snakes. It’s thought that a first child born feet first can relieve back pain by kicking the patient in the back at a crossing."735

[pg 296]

The need-fire in Aberdeenshire.

In the north-east of Aberdeenshire and the neighbourhood, when the cattle-disease known as the “quarter-ill” broke out, “the ‘muckle wheel’ was set in motion and turned till fire was produced. From this virgin flame fires were kindled in the byres. At the same time, if neighbours requested the favour, live coals were given them to kindle fires for the purification of their homesteads and turning off the disease. Fumigating the byres with juniper was a method adopted to ward off disease. Such a fire was called ‘needfyre.’ The kindling of it came under the censure of the Presbytery at times.”736

In the northeast of Aberdeenshire and the surrounding area, when the cattle disease known as the “quarter sick” broke out, The ‘muckle wheel’ was set in motion and turned until it created fire. From this initial flame, fires were lit in the barns. At the same time, if neighbors needed help, they were given live coals to start fires for cleansing their homes and driving away illness. Using juniper to fumigate the barns was a method employed to prevent sickness. This kind of fire was referred to as ‘needfyre.’ The practice of lighting it sometimes faced criticism from the Presbytery.736

The need-fire in Perthshire.

In Perthshire the need-fire was kindled as a remedy for cattle-disease as late as 1826. “A wealthy old farmer, [pg 297] having lost several of his cattle by some disease very prevalent at present, and being able to account for it in no way so rationally as by witchcraft, had recourse to the following remedy, recommended to him by a weird sister in his neighbourhood, as an effectual protection from the attacks of the foul fiend. A few stones were piled together in the barnyard, and woodcoals having been laid thereon, the fuel was ignited by will-fire, that is fire obtained by friction; the neighbours having been called in to witness the solemnity, the cattle were made to pass through the flames, in the order of their dignity and age, commencing with the horses and ending with the swine. The ceremony having been duly and decorously gone through, a neighbouring farmer observed to the enlightened owner of the herd, that he, along with his family, ought to have followed the example of the cattle, and the sacrifice to Baal would have been complete.”737

In Perthshire, the need-fire was lit as a cure for cattle disease as recently as 1826. A rich old farmer, [pg 297] who had lost several of his cattle to a disease that was quite common at the time, and couldn't explain it in any way that made sense other than witchcraft, turned to a remedy suggested by a local witch to protect against the attacks of the evil spirit. A few stones were stacked together in the barnyard, and wood coals were placed on top. The fire was ignited using will-fire, which is fire created by friction. Neighbors were invited to witness the ceremony, and the cattle were led to pass through the flames, starting with the horses and ending with the pigs, in order of their rank and age. After the ceremony was properly and respectfully completed, a neighboring farmer reminded the enlightened cattle owner that he and his family should have followed the cattle's example; then the sacrifice to Baal would have been complete.737

The needfire in Ireland.

In County Leitrim, Ireland, in order to prevent fever from spreading, “all the fires on the townland, and the two adjoining (one on each side), would be put out. Then the men of the three townlands would come to one house, and get two large blocks of wood. One would be set in the ground, and the other one, fitted with two handles, placed on the top of it. The men would then draw the upper block backwards and forwards over the lower until fire was produced by friction, and from this the fires would be lighted again. This would prevent the fever from spreading.”738

In County Leitrim, Ireland, to stop the spread of fever, “All the fires in the townland, along with those in the two nearby areas (one on each side), would be put out. Then, the men from the three townlands would come together at one house and get two large blocks of wood. One block would be fixed in the ground, and the other, with two handles, would be placed on top of it. The men would then move the upper block back and forth over the lower one until they created fire through friction, from which the fires would be relit. This practice would help stop the fever from spreading.”738

The use of need-fire is a remnant from a time when all fires were started by rubbing wood together.

Thus it appears that in many parts of Europe it has been customary to kindle fire by the friction of wood for the purpose of curing or preventing the spread of disease, particularly among cattle. The mode of striking a light by rubbing two dry sticks against each other is the one to which all over the world savages have most commonly resorted for the sake of providing themselves with fire;739 and we can scarcely doubt that the practice of kindling the need-fire in this primitive fashion is merely a survival from the time [pg 298] when our savage forefathers lit all their fires in that way. Nothing is so conservative of old customs as religious or magical ritual, which invests these relics of the past with an atmosphere of mysterious virtue and sanctity. To the educated mind it seems obvious that a fire which a man kindles with the sweat of his brow by laboriously rubbing one stick against each other can possess neither more nor less virtue than one which he has struck in a moment by the friction of a lucifer match; but to the ignorant and superstitious this truth is far from apparent, and accordingly they take infinite pains to do in a roundabout way what they might have done directly with the greatest ease, and what, even when it is done, is of no use whatever for the purpose in hand. A vast proportion of the labour which mankind has expended throughout the ages has been no better spent; it has been like the stone of Sisyphus eternally rolled up hill only to revolve eternally down again, or like the water poured for ever by the Danaids into broken pitchers which it could never fill.

So, it seems that in many areas of Europe, it's been common to start a fire by rubbing wood together to cure or prevent disease, especially among cattle. The method of creating a spark by rubbing two dry sticks against each other is the one that people around the world have typically used to make fire; and we can hardly doubt that the practice of starting the need-fire this way is just a carryover from the time when our ancestors lit all their fires like that. Nothing conserves old traditions like religious or magical rituals, which give these remnants of the past an air of mysterious power and holiness. To an educated person, it seems clear that a fire created with the effort of laboriously rubbing sticks together has no more or less significance than one struck instantly with a match; but to those who are ignorant and superstitious, this reality is far from obvious. As a result, they go to great lengths to achieve in a complicated way what they could have done easily and that, even when accomplished, holds no real benefit for the purpose at hand. A significant amount of the effort humanity has put forth throughout history has been similarly wasted; it’s like Sisyphus eternally pushing his stone uphill only to watch it roll back down, or like the Danaids endlessly pouring water into broken pitchers that can never be filled.

The belief that need-fire cannot ignite if any other fire is still burning nearby.

The curious notion that the need-fire cannot kindle if any other fire remains alight in the neighbourhood seems to imply that fire is conceived as a unity which is broken up into fractions and consequently weakened in exact proportion to the number of places where it burns; hence in order to obtain it at full strength you must light it only at a single point, for then the flame will burst out with a concentrated energy derived from the tributary fires which burned on all the extinguished hearths of the country. So in a modern city if all the gas were turned off simultaneously at all the burners but one, the flame would no doubt blaze at that one burner with a fierceness such as no single burner could shew when all are burning at the same time. The analogy may help us to understand the process of reasoning which leads the peasantry to insist on the extinction of all common fires when the need-fire is about to be kindled. Perhaps, too, it may partly explain that ceremonial extinction of all old fires on other occasions which is often required by custom as a preliminary to the lighting of a new and sacred fire.740 We [pg 299] have seen that in the Highlands of Scotland all common fires were extinguished on the Eve of May-day as a preparation for kindling the Beltane bonfire by friction next morning;741 and no doubt the reason for the extinction was the same as in the case of the need-fire. Indeed we may assume with a fair degree of probability that the need-fire was the parent of the periodic fire-festivals; at first invoked only at irregular intervals to cure certain evils as they occurred, the powerful virtue of fire was afterwards employed at regular intervals to prevent the occurrence of the same evils as well as to remedy such as had actually arisen.

The interesting idea that the need-fire can’t be lit if any other fire is still burning nearby seems to suggest that fire is seen as a single entity, which gets divided into portions, thus weakening it in proportion to how many places it’s burning. So, to get it at full strength, you need to light it at just one spot; this way, the flame will burst forth with intense energy from the leftover fires that were burning on all the extinguished hearths in the area. For example, in a modern city, if all the gas was turned off at every burner except for one, the flame at that single burner would likely blaze more fiercely than any single burner could when all are on at the same time. This analogy can help us understand the reasoning behind why rural communities insist that all common fires be put out before lighting the need-fire. It might also help explain the traditional practice of extinguishing old fires on other occasions before lighting a new sacred fire. We [pg 299] have observed that in the Highlands of Scotland, all common fires were put out on the eve of May Day to prepare for lighting the Beltane bonfire through friction the following morning; and the reason for extinguishing them was likely the same as with the need-fire. In fact, we can probably conclude that the need-fire was the origin of the periodic fire festivals; initially called upon only at random times to address specific issues as they arose, the powerful nature of fire was later utilized at set intervals to prevent these issues from happening as well as to address those that had already occurred.

The need-fire among the Iroquois of North America.

The need-fire of Europe has its parallel in a ceremony which used to be observed by the Iroquois Indians of North America. “Formerly when an epidemic prevailed among the Iroquois despite the efforts to stay it, it was customary for the principal shaman to order the fires in every cabin to be extinguished and the ashes and cinders to be carefully removed; for it was believed that the pestilence was sent as a punishment for neglecting to rekindle ‘new fire’ or because of the manner in which the fire then in use had been kindled. So, after all the fires were out, two suitable logs of slippery elm (Ulmus fulva) were provided for the new fire. One of the logs was from six to eight inches in diameter and from eight to ten feet long; the other was from ten to twelve inches in diameter and about ten feet long. About midway across the larger log a cuneiform notch or cut about six inches deep was made, and in the wedge-shaped notch punk was placed. The other log was drawn rapidly to and fro in the cut by four strong men chosen for the purpose until the punk was ignited by the friction thus produced. Before and during the progress of the work of igniting the fire the shaman votively sprinkled tcar-hŭ'-ĕñ-wĕ, ‘real tobacco,’ three several times into the cuneiform notch and offered earnest prayers to the Fire-god, beseeching him ‘to aid, to bless, and [pg 300] to redeem the people from their calamities.’ The ignited punk was used to light a large bonfire, and then the head of every family was required to take home ‘new fire’ to rekindle a fire in his or her fire-place.”742

The need-fire of Europe has a parallel in a ceremony that used to be practiced by the Iroquois Indians of North America. In the past, when an epidemic broke out among the Iroquois despite their efforts to stop it, the main shaman would instruct everyone to extinguish all the fires in their homes and carefully remove the ashes and cinders. They believed that the illness was a punishment for not rekindling ‘new fire’ or due to how they had lit the current fire. Once all the fires were out, two appropriate logs of slippery elm (Ulmus fulva) were prepared for the new fire. One log measured six to eight inches in diameter and eight to ten feet long; the other was ten to twelve inches in diameter and about ten feet long. A wedge-shaped cut about six inches deep was made halfway along the larger log, and punk was placed in the notch. Four strong men were chosen for this task and quickly moved the other log back and forth in the cut until the friction ignited the punk. Before and during the fire kindling process, the shaman sprinkled tcar-hŭ'-ĕñ-wĕ, ‘real tobacco,’ into the notch three times and offered heartfelt prayers to the Fire-god, asking him ‘to aid, to bless, and [pg 300] to redeem the people from their calamities.’ The ignited punk was then used to light a large bonfire, and every family head was required to take home ‘new fire’ to rekindle a fire in their fireplace.742

§ 9. The Offering of an Animal to Prevent a Cattle Plague.

The burnt offering of a calf in England and Wales. Burnt offering of a pig in Scotland.

Sometimes apparently in England as well as in Scotland the kindling of a need-fire was accompanied by the sacrifice of a calf. Thus in Northamptonshire, at some time during the first half of the nineteenth century, “Miss C—— and her cousin walking saw a fire in a field and a crowd round it. They said, ‘What is the matter?’ ‘Killing a calf.’ ‘What for?’ ‘To stop the murrain.’ They went away as quickly as possible. On speaking to the clergyman he made enquiries. The people did not like to talk of the affair, but it appeared that when there is a disease among the cows or the calves are born sickly, they sacrifice (i.e. kill and burn) one ‘for good luck.’ ”743 It is not here said that the fire was a need-fire, of which indeed the two horrified ladies had probably never heard; but the analogy of the parallel custom in Mull744 renders it probable that in Northamptonshire also the fire was kindled by the friction of wood, and that the calf or some part of it was burnt in the fire. Certainly the practice of burning a single animal alive in order to save all the others would seem to have been not uncommon in England down to the nineteenth century. Thus a farmer in Cornwall about the year 1800, having lost many cattle by disease, and tried many remedies in vain, consulted with some of his neighbours and laying their heads together “they recalled to their recollections a tale, which tradition had handed down from remote antiquity, that the calamity would not cease until he had actually burned alive the finest calf which he had upon his farm; but that, when this sacrifice was made, the murrain would afflict his cattle no more.” Accordingly, on a day appointed they met, lighted a large fire, placed the best calf in it, and standing round the blazing [pg 301] pile drove the animal with pitchforks back into the flames whenever it attempted to escape. Thus the victim was burned alive to save the rest of the cattle.745 “There can be no doubt but that a belief prevailed until a very recent period, amongst the small farmers in the districts remote from towns in Cornwall, that a living sacrifice appeased the wrath of God. This sacrifice must be by fire; and I have heard it argued that the Bible gave them warranty for this belief.... While correcting these sheets I am informed of two recent instances of this superstition. One of them was the sacrifice of a calf by a farmer near Portreath, for the purpose of removing a disease which had long followed his horses and his cows. The other was the burning of a living lamb, to save, as the farmer said, ‘his flocks from spells which had been cast on 'em.’ ”746 In a recent account of the fire-festivals of Wales we read that “I have also heard my grandfather and father say that in times gone by the people would throw a calf in the fire when there was any disease among the herds. The same would be done with a sheep if there was anything the matter with a flock. I can remember myself seeing cattle being driven between two fires to ‘stop the disease spreading.’ When in later times it was not considered humane to drive the cattle between the fires, the herdsmen were accustomed to force the animals over the wood ashes to protect them against various ailments.”747 Writing about 1866, the antiquary W. Henderson says that a live ox was burned near Haltwhistle in Northumberland “only twenty years ago” to stop a murrain.748 “About the year 1850 disease broke out among the cattle of a small farm in the parish of Resoliss, Black Isle, Ross-shire. The farmer prevailed on his wife to undertake a journey to a wise woman of renown [pg 302] in Banffshire to ask a charm against the effects of the ‘ill ee.’ The long journey of upwards of fifty miles was performed by the good wife, and the charm was got. One chief thing ordered was to burn to death a pig, and sprinkle the ashes over the byre and other farm buildings. This order was carried out, except that the pig was killed before it was burned. A more terrible sacrifice was made at times. One of the diseased animals was rubbed over with tar, driven forth, set on fire, and allowed to run till it fell down and died.”749 “Living animals have been burnt alive in sacrifice within memory to avert the loss of other stock. The burial of three puppies ‘brandise-wise’ in a field is supposed to rid it of weeds. Throughout the rural districts of Devon witchcraft is an article of current faith, and the toad is thrown into the flames as an emissary of the evil one.”750

Sometimes, apparently in England as well as in Scotland, the lighting of a need-fire was accompanied by the sacrifice of a calf. In Northamptonshire, sometime during the first half of the nineteenth century, Miss C—— and her cousin were out for a walk when they saw a fire in a field surrounded by a crowd. They asked, ‘What’s happening?’ ‘They’re killing a calf.’ ‘Why?’ ‘To stop the disease.’ They left as quickly as they could. When they talked to the clergyman, he asked around. The locals were reluctant to talk about it, but it seemed that when there was an outbreak among the cows or the calves were born sick, they sacrifice (i.e. kill and burn) one ‘for good luck.’ 743 It isn’t directly mentioned that the fire was a need-fire, which the two horrified ladies likely had never heard of; however, the similar practice in Mull 744 suggests that in Northamptonshire, the fire was also started by rubbing wood together, and that the calf or some part of it was burned in the fire. Clearly, the practice of burning a single animal alive to save the others seems to have been pretty common in England up until the nineteenth century. For instance, a farmer in Cornwall around 1800, after losing many cattle to disease and trying many remedies without success, spoke with some neighbors, and together They recalled a story that had been handed down through generations, saying that the disaster wouldn’t end until he actually burned alive the finest calf on his farm; but that, once this sacrifice was made, the illness would no longer affect his cattle. So, on a set day, they gathered, lit a big fire, placed the best calf in it, and stood around the blazing [pg 301] pile, using pitchforks to push the calf back into the flames whenever it tried to escape. Thus, the victim was burned alive to save the rest of the cattle.745 "There’s no doubt that a belief persisted until very recently among small farmers in the countryside of Cornwall that a living sacrifice would appease God’s anger. This sacrifice had to be by fire; I’ve heard it argued that the Bible supported this belief. While revising these pages, I learned of two recent examples of this superstition. One involved a farmer near Portreath who sacrificed a calf to heal his horses and cows of a long-standing illness. The other was the burning of a living lamb, to save, as the farmer said, ‘his flocks from spells that had been cast on them.’" 746 In a recent account of fire festivals in Wales, we read that "I’ve also heard my grandfather and father say that in the past, people would throw a calf into the fire when there was a disease among the herds. The same would happen to a sheep if issues occurred with a flock. I remember seeing cattle driven between two fires to ‘stop the disease from spreading.’ Later on, when it was seen as inhumane to drive cattle between fires, herdsmen would instead make the animals walk over the ashes to protect them from different ailments." 747 Writing about 1866, the antiquarian W. Henderson noted that a live ox was burned near Haltwhistle in Northumberland “just twenty years ago” to stop a murrain.748 Around 1850, a disease spread among the cattle on a small farm in the parish of Resoliss, Black Isle, Ross-shire. The farmer persuaded his wife to visit a well-known wise woman in Banffshire to get a charm against the effects of the ‘ill ee.’ The devoted wife embarked on a long journey of over fifty miles, and they obtained the charm. One of the main instructions was to burn a pig alive and scatter the ashes over the barn and other buildings. This was done, although the pig was killed before it was burned. At times, a more severe sacrifice was made. One of the sick animals was covered in tar, driven out, set on fire, and left to run until it collapsed and died. 749 “Recently, live animals have been sacrificed by burning to prevent the loss of other livestock. Burying three puppies ‘brandise-wise’ in a field is believed to eliminate weeds. In the rural areas of Devon, witchcraft is widely believed in, and a toad is thrown into the fire as a symbol of evil.” 750

The calf is burned to lift a spell that has been placed on the herd.

But why, we may ask, should the burning alive of a calf or a sheep be supposed to save the rest of the herd or the flock from the murrain? According to one writer, as we have seen, the burnt sacrifice was thought to appease the wrath of God.751 The idea of appeasing the wrath of a ferocious deity by burning an animal alive is probably no more than a theological gloss put on an old heathen rite; it would hardly occur to the simple mind of an English bumpkin, who, though he may be stupid, is not naturally cruel and does not conceive of a divinity who takes delight in the contemplation of suffering. To his thinking God has little or nothing to do with the murrain, but witches, ill-wishers, and fairies have a great deal to do with it. The English farmer who burned one of his lambs alive said that he did it “to save his flocks from spells which had been cast on them”; and the Scotch farmer who was bidden to burn a pig alive for a similar [pg 303] purpose, but who had the humanity to kill the animal first, believed that this was a remedy for the “evil eye” which had been cast upon his beasts. Again, we read that “a farmer, who possessed broad acres, and who was in many respects a sensible man, was greatly annoyed to find that his cattle became diseased in the spring. Nothing could satisfy him but that they were bewitched, and he was resolved to find out the person who had cast the evil eye on his oxen. According to an anciently-prescribed rule, the farmer took one of his bullocks and bled it to death, catching all the blood on bundles of straw. The bloody straw was then piled into a heap, and set on fire. Burning with a vast quantity of smoke, the farmer expected to see the witch, either in reality or in shadow, amidst the smoke.”752 Such reasons express the real beliefs of the peasants. “Cattle, like human beings, were exposed to the influences of the evil eye, of forespeaking, and of the casting of evil. Witches and warlocks did the work of evil among their neighbours' cattle if their anger had been aroused in any way. The fairies often wrought injury amongst cattle. Every animal that died suddenly was killed by the dart of the fairies, or, in the language of the people, was ‘shot-a-dead.’ Flint arrows and spear-heads went by the name of ‘faery dairts.’ ... When an animal died suddenly the canny woman of the district was sent for to search for the ‘faery dairt,’ and in due course she found one, to the great satisfaction of the owner of the dead animal.”753

But why, one might wonder, is the burning of a calf or a sheep believed to save the rest of the herd or flock from disease? As one writer pointed out, the burnt offering was thought to calm God's anger. The idea of soothing the rage of a fierce deity by burning an animal alive is likely just a theological layer added to an old pagan ritual; it wouldn't really cross the mind of a simple English farmer, who, although he may not be wise, isn't naturally cruel and doesn't envision a deity that enjoys watching suffering. To him, God has little to do with the disease; instead, he believes witches, bad finders, and fairies are the ones responsible. An English farmer who burned one of his lambs alive claimed he did it “to save his flocks from spells that had been cast on them”; similarly, a Scottish farmer who was told to burn a pig alive for the same reason, but showed compassion by killing the animal first, thought it was a way to counter the “evil eye” that had been placed on his livestock. Furthermore, we read that “a farmer, who owned large fields and was sensible in many ways, was very upset to find that his cattle got sick in the spring. Nothing could convince him otherwise; he believed they were cursed, and he was determined to identify the person who had given his oxen the evil eye. Following an old rule, the farmer took one of his bullocks and bled it to death, catching all the blood in bundles of straw. The bloody straw was then stacked up and set on fire. Filled with thick smoke, the farmer hoped to see the witch, either in person or in shadow, within the smoke.” Such beliefs reflect the genuine convictions of the peasants. “Cattle, like humans, were vulnerable to the evil eye, hexes, and other forms of malevolence. Witches and warlocks could cause harm to their neighbors' cattle if they felt wronged in any way. Fairies often harmed livestock as well. Every animal that died unexpectedly was said to be struck down by fairy magic, or, in local parlance, was ‘shot-a-dead.’ Flint arrows and spearheads were referred to as ‘faery dairts.’ ... When an animal died suddenly, the wise woman of the area was called to search for the ‘faery dairt,’ and she would eventually find one, much to the delight of the owner of the deceased animal.”

The method in which burning a cursed animal is believed to break the spell.

But how, we must still ask, can burning an animal alive break the spell that has been cast upon its fellows by a witch or a warlock? Some light is thrown on the question by the following account of measures which rustic wiseacres in Suffolk are said to have adopted as a remedy for witchcraft. “A woman I knew forty-three years had been employed by my predecessor to take care of his poultry. At the time I came to make her acquaintance she was a bedridden toothless crone, with chin and nose all but meeting. She did [pg 304] not discourage in her neighbours the idea that she knew more than people ought to know, and had more power than others had. Many years before I knew her it happened one spring that the ducks, which were a part of her charge, failed to lay eggs.... She at once took it for granted that the ducks had been bewitched. This misbelief involved very shocking consequences, for it necessitated the idea that so diabolical an act could only be combated by diabolical cruelty. And the most diabolical act of cruelty she could imagine was that of baking alive in a hot oven one of the ducks. And that was what she did. The sequence of thought in her mind was that the spell that had been laid on the ducks was that of preternaturally wicked wilfulness; that this spell could only be broken through intensity of suffering, in this case death by burning; that the intensity of suffering would break the spell in the one roasted to death; and that the spell broken in one would be altogether broken, that is, in all the ducks.... Shocking, however, as was this method of exorcising the ducks, there was nothing in it original. Just about a hundred years before, everyone in the town and neighbourhood of Ipswich had heard, and many had believed, that a witch had been burnt to death in her own house at Ipswich by the process of burning alive one of the sheep she had bewitched. It was curious, but it was as convincing as curious, that the hands and feet of this witch were the only parts of her that had not been incinerated. This, however, was satisfactorily explained by the fact that the four feet of the sheep, by which it had been suspended over the fire, had not been destroyed in the flames that had consumed its body.”754 According to a slightly different account of the same tragic incident, the last of the “Ipswitch witches,” one Grace Pett, “laid her hand heavily on a farmer's sheep, who, in order to punish her, fastened one of the sheep in the ground and burnt it, except the feet, which were under the earth. The next morning Grace Pett was found burnt to a cinder, except her [pg 305] feet. Her fate is recorded in the Philosophical Transactions as a case of spontaneous combustion.”755

But how, we still have to ask, can burning an animal alive break the spell that a witch or a warlock has cast on its companions? Some insight into this question comes from an account of actions that rural wise people in Suffolk reportedly took as a remedy for witchcraft. A woman I knew forty-three years ago had been hired by my predecessor to take care of his poultry. When I met her, she was a bedridden, toothless old lady, with her chin and nose almost touching. She didn't stop her neighbors from thinking that she knew more than others and had more power than most. Many years before I met her, one spring, the ducks she was in charge of stopped laying eggs. She immediately assumed that the ducks had been bewitched. This misunderstanding had very troubling consequences, as it made people believe that such an evil act could only be confronted with cruel retaliation. The cruelest act she could think of was to bake one of the ducks alive in a hot oven. And that's exactly what she did. Her reasoning was that the spell on the ducks involved unnatural wickedness; that this spell could only be broken through extreme suffering, which in this case meant death by burning; that the intensity of suffering would break the spell for the one that was roasted to death; and that the spell broken in one would be fully broken for all the ducks. Shockingly, as harsh as this method of dealing with the ducks was, it wasn’t anything new. About a hundred years earlier, everyone in the town and nearby Ipswich had heard, and many believed, that a witch had been burned to death in her own home in Ipswich for the act of burning one of the sheep she had bewitched. It was strange, yet as convincing as it was strange, that the hands and feet of this witch were the only parts of her body that hadn’t been burned. This was explained by the fact that the four feet of the sheep, which had been hung over the fire, did not get consumed in the flames that destroyed its body.754 According to a slightly different account of the same tragic event, the last of the “Ipswich witches,” one Grace Pett, "She laid her hand forcefully on a farmer's sheep, which, as punishment, was tied down and burned, leaving only its buried feet. The next morning, Grace Pett was found completely burned, except for her [pg 305] feet. Her fate is noted in the Philosophical Transactions as an example of spontaneous combustion."755

By burning the cursed animal, you are also burning the witch herself.

This last anecdote is instructive, if perhaps not strictly authentic. It shews that in burning alive one of a bewitched flock or herd what you really do is to burn the witch, who is either actually incarnate in the animal or perhaps more probably stands in a relation of sympathy with it so close as almost to amount to identity. Hence if you burn the creature to ashes, you utterly destroy the witch and thereby save the whole of the rest of the flock or herd from her abominable machinations; whereas if you only partially burn the animal, allowing some parts of it to escape the flames, the witch is only half-baked, and her power for mischief may be hardly, if at all, impaired by the grilling. We can now see that in such matters half-measures are useless. To kill the animal first and burn it afterwards is a weak compromise, dictated no doubt by a well-meant but utterly mistaken kindness; it is like shutting the stable-door when the steed is stolen, for obviously by leaving the animal's, and therefore the witch's, body nearly intact at the moment of death, it allows her soul to escape and return safe and sound to her own human body, which all the time is probably lying quietly at home in bed. And the same train of reasoning that justifies the burning alive of bewitched animals justifies and indeed requires the burning alive of the witches themselves; it is really the only way of destroying them, body and soul, and therefore of thoroughly extirpating the whole infernal crew.

This last anecdote is instructive, even if it may not be entirely authentic. It shows that when you burn one of a bewitched flock or herd alive, what you're really doing is burning the witch, who is either actually present in the animal or more likely has such a close bond with it that it’s almost like they’re one and the same. So, if you burn the creature to ashes, you completely destroy the witch and save the rest of the flock or herd from her evil plans; however, if you only partially burn the animal, letting some parts escape the flames, the witch is only half-destroyed, and her ability to cause trouble might remain mostly intact. We can see now that in these situations, half-measures are pointless. Killing the animal first and then burning it is a weak compromise, likely driven by a misguided but well-meaning kindness; it’s like shutting the stable door after the horse has been stolen, because obviously, by leaving the animal’s body, and thus the witch’s, mostly intact at the moment of death, it allows her soul to escape and return safely to her own human body, which is probably just lying at home in bed. The same reasoning that justifies burning bewitched animals also justifies and indeed demands the burning of the witches themselves; it’s really the only way to destroy them, body and soul, and thoroughly eliminate the whole infernal crew.

The practice of burning cattle and sheep as sacrifices on the Isle of Man.

In the Isle of Man the practice of burning cattle alive in order to stop a murrain seems to have persisted down to a time within living memory. On this subject I will quote the evidence collected by Sir John Rhys: “A respectable farmer from Andreas told me that he was driving with his wife to the neighbouring parish of Jurby some years ago, and that on the way they beheld the carcase of a cow or an ox burning in a field, with a woman engaged in stirring the fire. On reaching the village to which they were going, they found that the burning beast belonged to a farmer [pg 306] whom they knew. They were further told it was no wonder that the said farmer had one of his cattle burnt, as several of them had recently died. Whether this was a case of sacrifice or not I cannot say. But let me give you another instance: a man whom I have already mentioned, saw at a farm nearer the centre of the island a live calf being burnt. The owner bears an English name, but his family has long been settled in Man. The farmer's explanation to my informant was that the calf was burnt to secure luck for the rest of the herd, some of which were threatening to die. My informant thought there was absolutely nothing the matter with them, except that they had too little to eat. Be that as it may, the one calf was sacrificed as a burnt-offering to secure luck for the rest of the cattle. Let me here also quote Mr. Moore's note in his Manx Surnames, p. 184, on the place name Cabbal yn Oural Losht, or the Chapel of the Burnt Sacrifice. ‘This name,’ he says, ‘records a circumstance which took place in the nineteenth century, but which, it is to be hoped, was never customary in the Isle of Man. A farmer, who had lost a number of his sheep and cattle by murrain, burned a calf as a propitiatory offering to the Deity on this spot, where a chapel was afterwards built. Hence the name.’ Particulars, I may say, of time, place, and person could be easily added to Mr. Moore's statement, excepting, perhaps as to the deity in question; on that point I have never been informed, but Mr. Moore is probably right in the use of the capital d, as the sacrificer is, according to all accounts, a highly devout Christian. One more instance: an octogenarian woman, born in the parish of Bride, and now living at Kirk Andreas, saw, when she was a ‘lump of a girl’ of ten or fifteen years of age, a live sheep being burnt in a field in the parish of Andreas, on May-day, whereby she meant the first of May reckoned according to the Old Style. She asserts very decidedly that it was son oural, ‘as a sacrifice,’ as she put it, and ‘for an object to the public’: those were her words when she expressed herself in English. Further, she made the statement that it was a custom to burn a sheep on old May-day for a sacrifice. I was fully alive to the interest of this evidence, and cross-examined her so far as [pg 307] her age allows of it, and I find that she adheres to her statement with all firmness.”756

In the Isle of Man, the practice of burning cattle alive to stop a disease seems to have continued into relatively recent times. On this topic, I’ll share the evidence gathered by Sir John Rhys: A well-respected farmer from Andreas told me that he and his wife were driving to the nearby parish of Jurby a few years back when they saw a cow or ox carcass burning in a field, with a woman poking at the fire. When they arrived at their destination, they learned that the burning animal belonged to a farmer they knew. They were also told that it wasn’t surprising the farmer had lost one of his cattle this way, as several had recently died. Whether this was a form of sacrifice, I can’t say. But let me give you another example: a man I’ve mentioned before witnessed a live calf being burned at a farm closer to the center of the island. The owner has an English name, but his family has been in Man for a long time. The farmer explained to my informant that the calf was burned to bring good luck to the rest of the herd, which were at risk of dying. My informant believed the animals were fine except for being underfed. Still, one calf was sacrificed as a burnt offering for the sake of the other cattle. I should also mention Mr. Moore’s note in his Manx Surnames, p. 184, about the place name Cabbal yn Oural Losht, or the Chapel of the Burnt Sacrifice. “This name,” he states, “refers to an event that took place in the nineteenth century, but it is hoped it was never a common occurrence in the Isle of Man. A farmer, who had lost several sheep and cattle to disease, burned a calf as an offering to the Deity at this location, where a chapel was later built. Hence the name.” I could easily provide more details about the time, place, and those involved, except perhaps regarding the specific deity; I’ve never been informed about that, but Mr. Moore is likely right to use a capital D, as the person performing the sacrifice is said to be a very devout Christian. One more example: an eighty-year-old woman from the parish of Bride, now living in Kirk Andreas, recalled that when she was a “lump of a girl” at about ten or fifteen years old, she saw a live sheep being burned in a field in the parish of Andreas on May Day, specifically the first of May according to the Old Style. She strongly asserts that it was son oural, “as a sacrifice,” as she put it, and “for a public purpose”: those were her exact words when she expressed this in English. Additionally, she stated that it was customary to burn a sheep on old May Day as a sacrifice. I carefully noted the significance of this evidence and asked her as much as [pg 307] her age would allow, and I find that she stands by her statement with complete confidence.756

By burning a cursed animal, you force the witch to show up.

But Manxmen burn beasts when they are dead as well as when they are alive; and their reasons for burning the dead animals may help us to understand their reasons for burning the living animals. On this subject I will again quote Sir John Rhys: “When a beast dies on a farm, of course it dies, according to the old-fashioned view of things, as I understand it, from the influence of the evil eye or the interposition of a witch. So if you want to know to whom you are indebted for the loss of the beast, you have simply to burn its carcase in the open air and watch who comes first to the spot or who first passes by; that is the criminal to be charged with the death of the animal, and he cannot help coming there—such is the effect of the fire. A Michael woman, who is now about thirty, related to me how she watched while the carcase of a bewitched colt was burning, how she saw the witch coming, and how she remembers her shrivelled face, with nose and chin in close proximity. According to another native of Michael, a well-informed middle-aged man, the animal in question was oftenest a calf, and it was wont to be burnt whole, skin and all. The object, according to him, is invariably to bring the bewitcher on the spot, and he always comes; but I am not clear what happens to him when he appears. My informant added, however, that it was believed that, unless the bewitcher got possession of the heart of the burning beast, he lost all his power of bewitching.”757

But Manxmen burn animals when they’re dead as well as when they’re alive; and their reasons for burning dead animals might help us understand why they burn living ones. On this topic, I’ll again quote Sir John Rhys: “When an animal dies on a farm, people used to believe it was because of the evil eye or the interference of a witch. So, if you want to find out who is responsible for the animal's death, you simply burn its carcass outside and see who comes first to the scene or who walks by; that person is the one to blame for the animal's death, and they can't help but show up—such is the power of the fire. A woman from Michael, who is now about thirty, told me how she watched the carcass of a bewitched colt burn and saw the witch arrive. She remembers the witch’s wrinkled face, with her nose and chin very close together. According to another local from Michael, a knowledgeable middle-aged man, it was usually a calf that faced this fate, and it was typically burned whole, skin and all. The goal, he said, is always to lure the witch to the scene, and she always shows up; but I'm not sure what happens to her when she does. My informant also mentioned that it was believed that unless the witch got hold of the heart of the burning animal, she would lose all her power to cast spells.”757

[pg 308]

Magical connection between the witch and the enchanted animal.

These statements shew that in the Isle of Man the sympathetic relation between the witch and his or her animal victim is believed to be so close that by burning the animal you compel the witch to appear. The original idea may have been that, by virtue of a magic sympathy which binds the two together, whatever harm you do to the animal is felt by the witch as if it were done to herself. That notion would fully explain why Manx people used also to burn bewitched animals alive; in doing so they probably imagined that they were simultaneously burning the witch who had cast the spell on their cattle.

These statements show that in the Isle of Man, the connection between a witch and their animal victim is believed to be so strong that burning the animal forces the witch to appear. The original idea may have been that, due to a magical bond that links the two, any harm done to the animal is felt by the witch as if it were done to herself. This concept would explain why the people of Manx used to burn bewitched animals alive; they likely thought they were also burning the witch who had cast the spell on their livestock.

The belief in magical connection between the wolf form of a werewolf and their regular human form is that if you injure the wolf, you also injure the man or woman.

This explanation of the reason for burning a bewitched animal, dead or alive, is confirmed by the parallel belief concerning were-wolves. It is commonly supposed that certain men and women can transform themselves by magic art into wolves or other animals, but that any wound inflicted on such a transformed beast (a were-wolf or other were-animal) is simultaneously inflicted on the human body of the witch or warlock who had transformed herself or himself into the creature. This belief is widely diffused; it meets us in Europe, Asia, and Africa. For example, Olaus Magnus tells us that in Livonia, not many years before he wrote, a noble lady had a dispute with her slave on the subject of were-wolves, she doubting whether there were any such things, and he maintaining that there were. To convince her he retired to a room, from which he soon appeared in the form of a wolf. Being chased by the dogs into the forest and brought to bay, the wolf defended himself fiercely, but lost an eye in the struggle. Next day the slave returned to his mistress in human form but with only one eye.758 Again, it happened in the year 1588 that a gentleman in a village among the mountains of Auvergne, looking out of the window one evening, saw a friend of his going out to hunt. He begged him to bring him back some of his bag, and his friend said that he would. Well, he had not gone very far before he met a huge wolf. He fired and missed it, and the animal attacked him furiously, but he stood on his guard and with an adroit stroke of his [pg 309] hunting knife he cut off the right fore-paw of the brute, which thereupon fled away and he saw it no more. He returned to his friend, and drawing from his pouch the severed paw of the wolf he found to his horror that it was turned into a woman's hand with a golden ring on one of the fingers. His friend recognized the ring as that of his own wife and went to find her. She was sitting by the fire with her right arm under her apron. As she refused to draw it out, her husband confronted her with the hand and the ring on it. She at once confessed the truth, that it was she in the form of a were-wolf whom the hunter had wounded. Her confession was confirmed by applying the severed hand to the stump of her arm, for the two fitted exactly. The angry husband delivered up his wicked wife to justice; she was tried and burnt as a witch.759 It is said that a were-wolf, scouring the streets of Padua, was caught, and when they cut off his four paws he at once turned into a man, but with both his hands and feet amputated.760 Again, in a farm of the French district of Beauce, there was once a herdsman who never slept at home. These nocturnal absences naturally attracted attention and set people talking. At the same time, by a curious coincidence, a wolf used to prowl round the farm every night and to excite the dogs in the farmyard to fury by thrusting his snout derisively through the cat's hole in the great gate. The farmer had his suspicions and he determined to watch. One night, when the herdsman went out as usual, his master followed him quietly till he came to a hut, where with his own eyes he saw the man put on a broad belt and at once turn into a wolf, which scoured away over the fields. The farmer smiled a sickly sort of smile and went back to the farm. There he took a stout stick and sat down at the cat's hole to wait. He had not long to wait. The dogs barked like mad, a wolf's snout shewed through the hole, down came the stick, out gushed the blood, and a voice was heard to say without the gate, “A good job too. I had still three years to run.” Next day the herdsman appeared as usual, [pg 310] but he had a scar on his brow, and he never went out again at night.761

This explanation of why a bewitched animal, dead or alive, is burned is supported by the similar belief about werewolves. It's generally thought that certain men and women can magically transform into wolves or other animals, and that any injury inflicted on such a transformed creature (a werewolf or other were-animal) is also experienced by the witch or warlock in their human form. This belief is widespread; it's found in Europe, Asia, and Africa. For example, Olaus Magnus tells us that in Livonia, not long before he wrote, a noble lady argued with her servant about werewolves, with her doubting their existence and him insisting they were real. To prove his point, he went into a room and soon reappeared as a wolf. Chased by dogs into the forest and cornered, the wolf fought back fiercely but lost an eye in the process. The next day, the servant returned to his mistress in human form, but with only one eye.758 In 1588, a gentleman in a village in the Auvergne mountains looked out his window one evening and saw a friend going out to hunt. He asked his friend to bring back some game, and the friend agreed. Not long after, he encountered a massive wolf. He shot at it but missed, and the wolf attacked him aggressively. He managed to defend himself and, with a well-aimed stroke of his [pg 309] hunting knife, cut off the wolf's right forepaw, causing it to flee. When he returned to his friend and pulled the severed paw from his pouch, he was horrified to find it had turned into a woman's hand with a golden ring on one of the fingers. His friend recognized the ring as belonging to his wife and went searching for her. She was sitting by the fire with her right arm tucked under her apron. When she refused to pull it out, her husband confronted her with the hand and the ring. She immediately confessed that she had transformed into a werewolf when the hunter injured her. The truth of her confession was validated when the severed hand fit perfectly onto the stump of her arm. The furious husband turned his wicked wife in for justice; she was tried and executed as a witch.759 It is said that a werewolf roaming the streets of Padua was captured, and when they cut off his four paws, he instantly transformed back into a man—though both his hands and feet were amputated.760 In a farm in the French region of Beauce, there was once a herdsman who never slept at home. His late-night absences raised questions and got people talking. At the same time, a wolf would prowl around the farm nightly, stirring the dogs into a frenzy by poking its snout through the cat flap in the big gate. The farmer grew suspicious and decided to keep an eye on him. One night, when the herdsman left as usual, the farmer quietly followed him to a hut, where he saw the man put on a wide belt and instantly transform into a wolf, which then scampered away over the fields. The farmer smirked a sickly smile and returned to the farm. There, he grabbed a sturdy stick and sat down by the cat flap to wait. He didn’t have to wait long. The dogs barked furiously, a wolf's snout appeared through the hole, down came the stick, blood gushed out, and a voice was heard from outside the gate, "That was a good job. I still had three years left." The next day, the herdsman showed up as usual, [pg 310] but he had a scar on his forehead, and he never went out at night again.761

Werewolves in China.

In China also the faith in similar transformations is reflected in the following tale. A certain man in Sungyang went into the mountains to gather fuel. Night fell and he was pursued by two tigers, but scrambled up a tree out of their reach. Then said the one tiger to the other tiger, “If we can find Chu-Tu-shi, we are sure to catch this man up the tree.” So off went one of them to find Chu-Tu-shi, while the other kept watch at the foot of the tree. Soon after that another tiger, leaner and longer than the other two, appeared on the scene and made a grab at the man's coat. But fortunately the moon was shining, the man saw the paw, and with a stroke of his axe cut off one of its claws. The tigers roared and fled, one after the other, so the man climbed down the tree and went home. When he told his tale in the village, suspicion naturally fell on the said Chu-Tu-shi; and next day some men went to see him in his house. They [pg 311] were told that they could not see him; for he had been out the night before and had hurt his hand, and he was now ill in bed. So they put two and two together and reported him to the police. The police arrived, surrounded the house, and set fire to it; but Chu-Tu-shi rose from his bed, turned into a tiger, charged right through the police, and escaped, and to this day nobody ever knew where he went to.762

In China, a belief in similar transformations is shown in the following story. A man from Sungyang went into the mountains to gather firewood. Night fell, and he was chased by two tigers, but he managed to climb a tree to escape them. One tiger then said to the other, "If we can find Chu-Tu-shi, we'll definitely be able to catch this guy in the tree." So one of them went off to look for Chu-Tu-shi while the other kept an eye on the tree. Shortly after, another tiger, thinner and longer than the first two, showed up and lunged at the man's coat. Luckily, it was a moonlit night, and the man spotted the paw, quickly cutting off one of its claws with his axe. The tigers roared and fled, one after the other, allowing the man to climb down and go home. When he shared his experience in the village, suspicions naturally fell on Chu-Tu-shi. The next day, some men went to his house to check on him. They [pg 311] were told that he couldn’t be seen because he had gone out the previous night, hurt his hand, and was now sick in bed. Connecting the dots, they reported him to the police. The police arrived, surrounded the house, and set it on fire; but Chu-Tu-shi got up from his bed, transformed into a tiger, broke through the police, and escaped. To this day, no one knows where he went.

Werewolves among the Toradjas of Central Celebes. The werewolf in human form.

The Toradjas of Central Celebes stand in very great fear of were-wolves, that is of men and women, who have the power of transforming their spirits into animals such as cats, crocodiles, wild pigs, apes, deer, and buffaloes, which roam about battening on human flesh, and especially on human livers, while the men and women in their own proper human form are sleeping quietly in their beds at home. Among them a man is either born a were-wolf or becomes one by infection; for mere contact with a were-wolf, or even with anything that has been touched by his spittle, is quite enough to turn the most innocent person into a were-wolf; nay even to lean your head against anything against which a were-wolf has leaned his head suffices to do it. The penalty for being a were-wolf is death; but the sentence is never passed until the accused has had a fair trial and his guilt has been clearly demonstrated by an ordeal, which consists in dipping the middle finger into boiling resin. If the finger is not burnt, the man is no were-wolf; but if it is burnt, a were-wolf he most assuredly is, so they take him away to a quiet spot and hack him to bits. In cutting him up the executioners are naturally very careful not to be bespattered with his blood, for if that were to happen they would of course be turned into were-wolves themselves. Further, they place his severed head beside his hinder-quarters to prevent his soul from coming to life again and pursuing his depredations. So great is the horror of were-wolves among the Toradjas, and so great is their fear of contracting the deadly taint by infection, that many persons have assured a missionary that they would not spare their own child if they knew him to be a were-wolf.763 Now these people, [pg 312] whose faith in were-wolves is not a mere dying or dead superstition but a living, dreadful conviction, tell stories of were-wolves which conform to the type which we are examining. They say that once upon a time a were-wolf came in human shape under the house of a neighbour, while his real body lay asleep as usual at home, and calling out softly to the man's wife made an assignation with her to meet him in the tobacco-field next day. But the husband was lying awake and he heard it all, but he said nothing to anybody. Next day chanced to be a busy one in the village, for a roof had to be put on a new house and all the men were lending a hand with the work, and among them to be sure was the were-wolf himself, I mean to say his own human self; there he was up on the roof working away as hard as anybody. But the woman went out to the tobacco-field, and behind went unseen her husband, slinking through the underwood. When they were come to the field, he saw the were-wolf make up to his wife, so out he rushed and struck at him with a stick. Quick as thought, the were-wolf turned himself into a leaf, but the man was as nimble, for he caught up the leaf, thrust it into the joint of bamboo, in which he kept his tobacco, and bunged it up tight. Then he walked back with his wife to the village, carrying the bamboo with the were-wolf in it. When they came to the village, the human body of the were-wolf was still on the roof, working away with the rest. The man put the bamboo in a fire. At that the human were-wolf looked down from the roof and said, “Don't do that.” The man drew the bamboo from the fire, but a moment afterwards he put it in the fire again, and again the human were-wolf on the roof looked down and cried, “Don't do that.” But this time the man kept the bamboo in the fire, and when it blazed up, down fell the human were-wolf from the roof as dead as a stone.764 Again, the following story went round among the Toradjas not so very many years ago. The thing happened at Soemara, on the Gulf of Tomori. It was evening and some men sat chatting with a certain Hadji Mohammad. When it had grown dark, one of the men went out of the house for something or other. A little while afterwards one of the company [pg 313] thought he saw a stag's antlers standing out sharp and clear against the bright evening sky. So Hadji Mohammad raised his gun and fired. A minute or two afterwards back comes the man who had gone out, and says he to Hadji Mohammad, “You shot at me and hit me. You must pay me a fine.” They searched him but found no wound on him anywhere. Then they knew that he was a were-wolf who had turned himself into a stag and had healed the bullet-wound by licking it. However, the bullet had found its billet, for two days afterwards he was a dead man.765

The Toradjas of Central Celebes are extremely afraid of werewolves, which are people who can transform their spirits into animals like cats, crocodiles, wild pigs, apes, deer, and buffaloes, who prey on humans, especially targeting their livers, while the actual humans are sound asleep in their beds. Among them, a person is either born a werewolf or becomes one through infection; just being near a werewolf or touching something they've spat on is enough to turn even the most innocent person into a werewolf. Even resting your head against something a werewolf has leaned against can cause the transformation. The penalty for being a werewolf is death, but the sentence isn't carried out until the accused has a fair trial and their guilt is proven through an ordeal, which involves dipping their middle finger into boiling resin. If the finger doesn't burn, they are not a werewolf; if it does burn, then they surely are, and they are taken to a quiet place and chopped to pieces. The executioners are very careful not to get splattered with the werewolf's blood because if they do, they would become werewolves themselves. Additionally, they place the severed head next to the werewolf's rear to prevent their soul from coming back to life and continuing their attacks. The fear of werewolves among the Toradjas is so intense, and their fear of becoming infected is so strong, that many people have told a missionary that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill their own child if they knew they were a werewolf. Now these people, whose belief in werewolves is not a fading superstition but a living, terrifying conviction, tell stories about werewolves that fit the type we are examining. They say that once, a werewolf in human form came under the house of a neighbor while his real body was asleep at home and softly called out to the man's wife to meet him in the tobacco field the next day. But the husband was awake and heard everything without saying a word to anyone. The next day was a busy one in the village, as they were putting a roof on a new house and all the men were helping with the work, including the werewolf himself, in his human form, hard at work on the roof. Meanwhile, the woman went out to the tobacco field, followed quietly by her husband, who was sneaking through the undergrowth. When they reached the field, he saw the werewolf approaching his wife, so he rushed out and struck at him with a stick. In the blink of an eye, the werewolf turned into a leaf, but the man was quick enough to grab the leaf and stuff it into the bamboo tube where he kept his tobacco, sealing it tightly. Then he walked back to the village with his wife, carrying the bamboo with the werewolf inside. When they arrived in the village, the werewolf’s human body was still on the roof, working with the others. The man put the bamboo in the fire. At this, the human werewolf looked down from the roof and said, “Don't do that.” The man pulled the bamboo out of the fire, but a moment later, he put it back in again, and again the human werewolf called out, “Don't do that.” But this time, the man kept the bamboo in the fire, and when it blazed up, the human werewolf fell from the roof, dead as a stone. Again, another story circulated among the Toradjas not too long ago. This took place in Soemara, on the Gulf of Tomori. It was evening, and some men were chatting with a certain Hadji Mohammad. When it got dark, one of the men stepped out of the house for something. A little while later, one of the men thought he saw stag antlers clearly outlined against the bright evening sky. So Hadji Mohammad raised his gun and fired. A minute or two later, the man who had gone out returned and said to Hadji Mohammad, “You shot at me and hit me. You must pay me a fine.” They searched him and found no wound on him anywhere. Then they realized he was a werewolf who had turned into a stag and healed the bullet wound by licking it. However, the bullet had done its job, and two days later, he was dead.

Werewolves in Egypt's Sudan.

In Sennar, a province of the Egyptian Sudan, the Hammeg and Fungi enjoy the reputation of being powerful magicians who can turn themselves into hyaenas and in that guise scour the country at night, howling and gorging themselves. But by day they are men again. It is very dangerous to shoot at such human hyaenas by night. On the Jebel Bela mountain a soldier once shot at a hyaena and hit it, but it dragged itself off, bleeding, in the darkness and escaped. Next morning he followed up the trail of blood and it led him straight to the hut of a man who was everywhere known for a wizard. Nothing of the hyaena was to be seen, but the man himself was laid up in the house with a fresh wound and died soon afterwards. And the soldier did not long survive him.766

In Sennar, a province of the Egyptian Sudan, the Hammeg and Fungi are known as powerful magicians who can transform into hyenas and roam the country at night, howling and gorging themselves. But during the day, they become men again. It's very dangerous to shoot at such human hyenas at night. On Jebel Bela mountain, a soldier once shot at a hyena and hit it, but it crawled away, bleeding, into the darkness and escaped. The next morning, he followed the blood trail, which led him straight to the hut of a man known everywhere as a wizard. There was no sign of the hyena, but the man was bedridden in his house with a fresh wound and died soon after. The soldier didn’t survive for long after that either. 766

The werewolf story in Petronius.

But the classical example of these stories is an old Roman tale told by Petronius. It is put in the mouth of one Niceros. Late at night he left the town to visit a friend of his, a widow, who lived at a farm five miles down the road. He [pg 314] was accompanied by a soldier, who lodged in the same house, a man of Herculean build. When they set out it was near dawn, but the moon shone as bright as day. Passing through the outskirts of the town, they came amongst the tombs, which lined the highroad for some distance. There the soldier made an excuse for retiring behind a monument, and Niceros sat down to wait for him, humming a tune and counting the tombstones to pass the time. In a little he looked round for his companion, and saw a sight which froze him with horror. The soldier had stripped off his clothes to the last rag and laid them at the side of the highway. Then he performed a certain ceremony over them, and immediately was changed into a wolf, and ran howling into the forest. When Niceros had recovered himself a little, he went to pick up the clothes, but found that they were turned to stone. More dead than alive, he drew his sword, and, striking at every shadow cast by the tombstones on the moonlit road, he tottered to his friend's house. He entered it like a ghost, to the surprise of the widow, who wondered to see him abroad so late. “If you had only been here a little ago,” said she, “you might have been of some use. For a wolf came tearing into the yard, scaring the cattle and bleeding them like a butcher. But he did not get off so easily, for the servant speared him in the neck.” After hearing these words, Niceros felt that he could not close an eye, so he hurried away home again. It was now broad daylight, but when he came to the place where the clothes had been turned to stone, he found only a pool of blood. He reached home, and there lay the soldier in bed like an ox in the shambles, and the doctor was bandaging his neck. “Then I knew,” said Niceros, “that the man was a were-wolf, and never again could I break bread with him, no, not if you had killed me for it.”767

But the classical example of these stories is an old Roman tale told by Petronius. It's spoken by a guy named Niceros. Late at night, he left the town to visit a friend of his, a widow, who lived at a farm five miles down the road. He [pg 314] was accompanied by a soldier, who stayed in the same house, a guy built like Hercules. When they set out, it was close to dawn, but the moon was shining as bright as day. As they passed through the outskirts of town, they reached the tombs that lined the highway for a ways. There, the soldier made an excuse to duck behind a monument, and Niceros sat down to wait for him, humming a tune and counting the tombstones to kill time. After a bit, he looked around for his companion and saw something that froze him with fear. The soldier had stripped off his clothes completely and left them by the side of the road. Then he performed a certain ritual over them, and suddenly transformed into a wolf, running howling into the forest. Once Niceros managed to gather himself, he went to grab the clothes, but found they had turned to stone. More dead than alive, he drew his sword and, attacking every shadow cast by the tombstones on the moonlit road, he stumbled to his friend's house. He entered like a ghost, surprising the widow, who wondered why he was out so late. "If you had just been here a little while ago," she said, "You could have been helpful. A wolf charged into the yard, frightening the cattle and injuring them like a butcher. But he didn't get away easily, because the servant stabbed him in the neck." After hearing this, Niceros realized he couldn't sleep, so he hurried back home. It was now broad daylight, but when he got to where the clothes had turned to stone, he found only a pool of blood. He reached home, and there lay the soldier in bed like an ox in the slaughterhouse, with the doctor bandaging his neck. “Then I realized,” Niceros said, "That the man was a werewolf, and I could never share a meal with him again, no, not even if you killed me for it."767

[pg 315]

Witches, like werewolves, can temporarily turn into animals.

These stories may help us to understand the custom of burning a bewitched animal, which has been observed in our own country down to recent times, if indeed it is even now extinct. For a close parallel may be traced in some respects between witches and were-wolves. Like were-wolves, witches are commonly supposed to be able to transform themselves temporarily into animals for the purpose of playing their mischievous pranks;768 and like were-wolves they can in their animal disguise be compelled to unmask themselves to any one who succeeds in drawing their blood. In either case the animal-skin is conceived as a cloak thrown round the wicked enchanter; and if you can only pierce the skin, whether by the stab of a knife or the shot of a gun, you so rend the disguise that the man or woman inside of it stands revealed in his or her true colours. Strictly speaking, the stab should be given on the brow or between the eyes in the case both of a witch and of a were-wolf;769 and it is vain to shoot at a were-wolf unless you have had the bullet blessed in a chapel [pg 316] of St. Hubert or happen to be carrying about you, without knowing it, a four-leaved clover; otherwise the bullet will merely rebound from the were-wolf like water from a duck's back.770 However, in Armenia they say that the were-wolf, who in that country is usually a woman, can be killed neither by shot nor by steel; the only way of delivering the unhappy woman from her bondage is to get hold of her wolf's skin and burn it; for that naturally prevents her from turning into a wolf again. But it is not easy to find the skin, for she is cunning enough to hide it by day.771 So with witches, it is not only useless but even dangerous to shoot at one of them when she has turned herself into a hare; if you do, the gun may burst in your hand or the shot come back and kill you. The only way to make quite sure of hitting a witch-animal is to put a silver sixpence or a silver button in your gun.772 For example, it happened one evening that a native of the island of Tiree was going home with a new gun, when he saw a black sheep running towards him across the plain of Reef. Something about the creature excited his suspicion, so he put a silver sixpence in his gun and fired at it. Instantly the black sheep became a woman with a drugget coat wrapt round her head. The man knew her quite well, for she was a witch who had often persecuted him before in the shape of a cat.773

These stories might help us understand the custom of burning a bewitched animal, which has been seen in our own country even into recent times, if it's not still happening. There's a close parallel in some ways between witches and werewolves. Like werewolves, witches are often thought to be able to temporarily transform themselves into animals to carry out their mischievous tricks;768 and like werewolves, they can be forced to reveal their true identity while in their animal form if someone manages to draw their blood. In either case, the animal skin is seen as a cloak worn by the wicked enchanter; and if you can just pierce the skin, whether with a knife or a gunshot, you tear away the disguise, exposing the man or woman inside in their true form. Strictly speaking, the stab should be made on the forehead or between the eyes in the case of both a witch and a werewolf;769 and it's pointless to shoot at a werewolf unless the bullet has been blessed in a chapel [pg 316] of St. Hubert or you happen to be carrying a four-leaved clover without realizing it; otherwise, the bullet will just bounce off the werewolf like water off a duck's back.770 However, in Armenia, they say that the werewolf, who in that country is usually a woman, can be killed neither by bullet nor steel; the only way to free the unfortunate woman from her curse is to get her wolf's skin and burn it; that prevents her from turning into a wolf again. But it's not easy to find the skin, as she's smart enough to hide it during the day.771 Similarly, with witches, it's not only useless but even dangerous to shoot at one if she has transformed into a hare; doing so may cause the gun to explode in your hand or the shot to rebound and kill you. The only way to guarantee hitting a witch-animal is to load your gun with a silver sixpence or a silver button.772 For instance, one evening, a native of the island of Tiree was heading home with a new gun when he spotted a black sheep running towards him across the plain of Reef. Something about the creature raised his suspicion, so he loaded a silver sixpence into his gun and shot at it. Immediately, the black sheep transformed into a woman with a coarse coat wrapped around her head. The man recognized her immediately, as she was a witch who had often tormented him before in the form of a cat.773

Injuries caused to an animal that a witch has turned into will also harm the witch herself.

Again, the wounds inflicted on a witch-hare or a witch-cat are to be seen on the witch herself, just as the wounds inflicted on a were-wolf are to be seen on the man himself when he has doffed the wolf's skin. To take a few instances out of a multitude, a young man in the island of Lismore was out shooting. When he was near Balnagown loch, he started [pg 317] a hare and fired at it. The animal gave an unearthly scream, and then for the first time it occurred to him that there were no real hares in Lismore. He threw away his gun in terror and fled home; and next day he heard that a notorious witch was laid up with a broken leg. A man need be no conjuror to guess how she came by that broken leg.774 Again, at Thurso certain witches used to turn themselves into cats and in that shape to torment an honest man. One night he lost patience, whipped out his broadsword, and put them to flight. As they were scurrying away he struck at them and cut off a leg of one of the cats. To his astonishment it was a woman's leg, and next morning he found one of the witches short of the corresponding limb.775 Glanvil tells a story of “an old woman in Cambridge-shire, whose astral spirit, coming into a man's house (as he was sitting alone at the fire) in the shape of an huge cat, and setting her self before the fire, not far from him, he stole a stroke at the back of it with a fire-fork, and seemed to break the back of it, but it scambled from him, and vanisht he knew not how. But such an old woman, a reputed witch, was found dead in her bed that very night, with her back broken, as I have heard some years ago credibly reported.”776 In Yorkshire during the latter half of the nineteenth century a parish clergyman was told a circumstantial story of an old witch named Nanny, who was hunted in the form of a hare for several miles over the Westerdale moors and kept well away from the dogs, till a black one joined the pack and succeeded in taking a bit out of one of the hare's legs. That was the end of the chase, and immediately afterwards the sportsmen found old Nanny laid up in bed with a sore leg. On examining the wounded limb they discovered that the hurt was precisely in that part of it which in the hare had been bitten by the black dog and, what was still more significant, the wound had all the appearance of having been inflicted by a dog's teeth. So they put two and two together.777 The same sort of thing [pg 318] is often reported in Lincolnshire. “One night,” said a servant from Kirton Lindsey, “my father and brother saw a cat in front of them. Father knew it was a witch, and took a stone and hammered it. Next day the witch had her face all tied up, and shortly afterwards died.” Again, a Bardney bumpkin told how a witch in his neighbourhood could take all sorts of shapes. One night a man shot a hare, and when he went to the witch's house he found her plastering a wound just where he had shot the hare.778 So in County Leitrim, in Ireland, they say that a hare pursued by dogs fled to a house near at hand, but just as it was bolting in at the door one of the dogs came up with it and nipped a piece out of its leg. The hunters entered the house and found no hare there but only an old woman, and her side was bleeding; so they knew what to think of her.779

Again, the injuries inflicted on a witch-hare or a witch-cat can be seen on the witch herself, just as the injuries from a werewolf are visible on the person when he sheds the wolf's skin. To take a few examples from many, a young man on the island of Lismore was out hunting. When he was near Balnagown loch, he spotted a hare and took a shot at it. The animal let out a blood-curdling scream, and for the first time, he realized that there were no real hares in Lismore. Terrified, he dropped his gun and ran home; the next day he learned that a notorious witch was in bed with a broken leg. No magic is needed to guess how she got that broken leg.774 Also, in Thurso, some witches would transform into cats and torment an honest man in that form. One night, he lost his patience, drew his broadsword, and scared them off. As they were scrambling away, he struck at them and cut off one of the cats' legs. To his shock, it was a woman's leg, and the next morning he found one of the witches missing the matching limb.775 Glanvil shares a tale about An elderly woman in Cambridgeshire, whose spirit was said to travel, entered a man's home while he was sitting alone by the fire, taking the shape of a large cat. She positioned herself near the fire, not far from him. He tried to poke her with a fire fork and seemed to injure her, but she managed to escape and disappeared in a way he didn't understand. That very night, the same old woman, known as a witch, was discovered dead in her bed with a broken back, as I was reliably informed a few years ago. 776 In Yorkshire, during the latter half of the nineteenth century, a parish clergyman was told a detailed story about an old witch named Nanny, who was chased in the form of a hare for several miles across the Westerdale moors and managed to stay well ahead of the dogs until a black one joined the pack and managed to bite one of her legs. That ended the chase, and soon after, the hunters found old Nanny in bed with a sore leg. Upon examining the injured limb, they discovered that the injury was exactly where the hare had been bitten by the black dog, and even more notably, the wound looked like it had been made by a dog's teeth. So they pieced it all together.777 The same sort of thing [pg 318] is often reported in Lincolnshire. "One night," said a servant from Kirton Lindsey, "My father and brother saw a cat in front of them. Dad knew it was a witch, so he picked up a stone and threw it. The next day, the witch had her face completely bandaged, and shortly after that, she died." Again, a Bardney villager recounted how a witch in his area could take on all sorts of shapes. One night a man shot a hare, and when he went to the witch's house, he found her wrapping a wound just where he had shot the hare.778 In County Leitrim, Ireland, they say that a hare chased by dogs ran to a nearby house, but just as it was bolting through the door, one of the dogs caught up and bit its leg. When the hunters entered the house, they found no hare, only an old woman, and her side was bleeding; so they knew what to think of her.779

Injured witches in the Vosges.

Again, in the Vosges Mountains a great big hare used to come out every evening to take the air at the foot of the Mont des Fourches. All the sportsmen of the neighbourhood tried their hands on that hare for a month, but not one of them could hit it. At last one marksman, more knowing than the rest, loaded his gun with some pellets of a consecrated wafer in addition to the usual pellets of lead. That did the trick. If puss was not killed outright, she was badly hurt, and limped away uttering shrieks and curses in a human voice. Later it transpired that she was no other than the witch of a neighbouring village who had the power of putting on the shape of any animal she pleased.780 Again, a hunter of Travexin, in the Vosges, fired at a hare and almost shot away one of its hind legs. Nevertheless the creature contrived to escape into a cottage through the open door. Immediately a child's cries were heard to proceed from the cottage, and the hunter could distinguish these words, “Daddy, daddy, come quick! Poor mammy has her leg broken.”781

Once again, in the Vosges Mountains, a huge hare would come out every evening to get some fresh air at the foot of Mont des Fourches. All the local hunters tried their luck at that hare for a month, but none of them could hit it. Finally, one hunter, wiser than the others, loaded his gun with some bits of a consecrated wafer in addition to the regular lead pellets. That did the trick. If the hare wasn't killed outright, it was seriously injured and limped away, screaming and cursing in a human voice. Later, it turned out that she was actually the witch from a nearby village who could transform into any animal she wanted. Again, a hunter from Travexin in the Vosges shot at a hare and nearly blew off one of its back legs. Still, the animal managed to escape into a cottage through the open door. Right away, a child's cries were heard coming from the cottage, and the hunter could make out these words, "Daddy, hurry! Mom has broken her leg."

Injured witches in Swabia.

In Swabia the witches are liable to accidents of the same sort when they go about their business in the form [pg 319] of animals. For example, there was a soldier who was betrothed to a young woman and used to visit her every evening when he was off duty. But one evening the girl told him that he must not come to the house on Friday nights, because it was never convenient to her to see him then. This roused his suspicion, and the very next Friday night he set out to go to his sweetheart's house. On the way a white cat ran up to him in the street and dogged his steps, and when the animal would not make off he drew his sword and slashed off one of its paws. On that the cat bolted. The soldier walked on, but when he came to his sweetheart's house he found her in bed, and when he asked her what was the matter, she gave a very confused reply. Noticing stains of blood on the bed, he drew down the coverlet and saw that the girl was weltering in her gore, for one of her feet was lopped off. “So that's what's the matter with you, you witch!” said he, and turned on his heel and left her, and within three days she was dead.782 Again, a farmer in the neighbourhood of Wiesensteig frequently found in his stable a horse over and above the four horses he actually owned. He did not know what to make of it and mentioned the matter to the smith. The smith said quietly, “The next time you see a fifth horse in the stable, just you send for me.” Well, it was not long before the strange horse was there again, and the farmer at once sent for the smith. He came bringing four horse-shoes with him, and said, “I'm sure the nag has no shoes; I'll shoe her for you.” No sooner said than done. However, the smith overreached himself; for next day when his friend the farmer paid him a visit he found the smith's own wife prancing about with horse-shoes nailed on her hands and feet. But it was the last time she ever appeared in the shape of a horse.783

In Swabia, witches can face similar troubles when they go about their business in animal form. For instance, there was a soldier who was engaged to a young woman and would visit her every evening when he had time off. But one evening, the girl told him he shouldn’t come over on Friday nights because it was never a good time for her. This made him suspicious, so the very next Friday night, he decided to go to his sweetheart's house anyway. On his way, a white cat ran up to him in the street and followed him. When the cat wouldn’t leave, he drew his sword and chopped off one of its paws. The cat bolted right after that. The soldier continued on, but when he arrived at his sweetheart's house, he found her in bed. When he asked her what was wrong, she gave a very confused answer. Seeing blood stains on the bed, he pulled back the cover and discovered that the girl was lying in a pool of her own blood because one of her feet was missing. "So that's what's wrong with you, you witch!" he said, then turned and walked away. Within three days, she was dead.782 Again, a farmer near Wiesensteig often found an extra horse in his stable on top of the four he actually owned. He didn’t know what to think and mentioned it to the blacksmith. The blacksmith calmly said, "Next time you spot a fifth horse in the stable, just call for me." Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the mysterious horse was back, and the farmer quickly called for the blacksmith. He arrived with four horseshoes and said, “I’m pretty sure this horse doesn't have shoes; I'll put some on her.” As soon as he said that, he got to work. However, the blacksmith got himself into trouble because the next day, when the farmer visited him, he found the blacksmith’s own wife prancing around with horseshoes nailed to her hands and feet. But it was the last time she ever showed up as a horse.783

The miller's wife and the two gray cats.

Once more, in Silesia they tell of a miller's apprentice, a sturdy and industrious young fellow, who set out on his travels. One day he came to a mill, and the miller told [pg 320] him that he wanted an apprentice but did not care to engage one, because hitherto all his apprentices had run away in the night, and when he came down in the morning the mill was at a stand. However, he liked the looks of the young chap and took him into his pay. But what the new apprentice heard about the mill and his predecessors was not encouraging; so the first night when it was his duty to watch in the mill he took care to provide himself with an axe and a prayer-book, and while he kept one eye on the whirring, humming wheels he kept the other on the good book, which he read by the flickering light of a candle set on a table. So the hours at first passed quietly with nothing to disturb him but the monotonous drone and click of the machinery. But on the stroke of twelve, as he was still reading with the axe lying on the table within reach, the door opened and in came two grey cats mewing, an old one and a young one. They sat down opposite him, but it was easy to see that they did not like his wakefulness and the prayer-book and the axe. Suddenly the old cat reached out a paw and made a grab at the axe, but the young chap was too quick for her and held it fast. Then the young cat tried to do the same for the prayer-book, but the apprentice gripped it tight. Thus balked, the two cats set up such a squalling that the young fellow could hardly say his prayers. Just before one o'clock the younger cat sprang on the table and fetched a blow with her right paw at the candle to put it out. But the apprentice struck at her with his axe and sliced the paw off, whereupon the two cats vanished with a frightful screech. The apprentice wrapped the paw up in paper to shew it to his master. Very glad the miller was next morning when he came down and found the mill going and the young chap at his post. The apprentice told him what had happened in the night and gave him the parcel containing the cat's paw. But when the miller opened it, what was the astonishment of the two to find in it no cat's paw but a woman's hand! At breakfast the miller's young wife did not as usual take her place at the table. She was ill in bed, and the doctor had to be called in to bind up her right arm, because in hewing wood, so they said, she had made a slip and cut off her own right hand. But [pg 321] the apprentice packed up his traps and turned his back on that mill before the sun had set.784

Once again, in Silesia, there's a story about a miller's apprentice, a strong and hardworking young man, who set out to explore the world. One day, he came upon a mill, and the miller told [pg 320] him that he wanted an apprentice but was hesitant to hire one, as all his previous apprentices had run away overnight, leaving the mill idle by morning. However, he liked the look of the young guy and decided to hire him. But the new apprentice found the mill's reputation and its former workers' experiences unpromising. So, on his first night on watch, he prepared himself with an axe and a prayer book. While keeping one eye on the spinning, humming wheels, he focused the other on the prayer book, reading by the flickering light of a candle on the table. The first few hours passed quietly, with only the constant hum and clatter of the machinery to break the silence. However, at midnight, while he was still reading with the axe within reach on the table, the door swung open, and in walked two grey cats, an old one and a young one, meowing as they approached. They sat across from him, clearly displeased with his alertness, the prayer book, and the axe. Suddenly, the old cat stretched out a paw to grab the axe, but the apprentice was too quick and held onto it tightly. Then the young cat tried to snatch the prayer book, but the apprentice clutched it firmly. Frustrated, the two cats started screeching so loud that the young man could barely concentrate on his prayers. Just before one o'clock, the younger cat jumped onto the table and swiped at the candle with her right paw to extinguish it. The apprentice swung at her with his axe and chopped off her paw, after which the two cats vanished with a terrifying screech. He wrapped the paw up in paper to show his master. The next morning, the miller was very pleased to find the mill running and the young man at his post. The apprentice recounted the night's events and presented the parcel containing the cat's paw. But when the miller unwrapped it, both he and the apprentice were shocked to find it wasn't a cat's paw, but a woman's hand! At breakfast, the miller's young wife did not sit at the table as usual. She was sick in bed, and a doctor had to be called to bandage her right arm because, as the story went, she had accidentally cut off her own hand while chopping wood. But [pg 321] the apprentice quickly packed his belongings and left the mill before sunset.

The analogy of werewolves supports the idea that the reason for burning bewitched animals is either to burn the witch or to force her to appear.

It would no doubt be easy to multiply instances, all equally well attested and authentic, of the transformation of witches into animals and of the damage which the women themselves have sustained through injuries inflicted on the animals.785 But the foregoing evidence may suffice to establish the complete parallelism between witches and were-wolves in these respects. The analogy appears to confirm the view that the reason for burning a bewitched animal alive is a belief that the witch herself is in the animal, and that by burning it you either destroy the witch completely or at least unmask her and compel her to reassume her proper human shape, in which she is naturally far less potent for mischief than when she is careering about the country in the likeness of a cat, a hare, a horse, or what not. This principle is still indeed clearly recognized by people in Oldenburg, though, as might be expected, they do not now carry out the principle to its logical conclusion by burning the bewitched animal or person alive; instead they resort to a feeble and, it must be added, perfectly futile subterfuge dictated by a mistaken humanity or a fear of the police. “When anything living is bewitched in a house, for example, children or animals, they burn or boil the nobler inwards of animals, especially the hearts, but also the lungs or the liver. If animals have died, they take the inwards of one of them or of an animal of the same kind slaughtered for the purpose; but if that is not possible they take the inwards of a cock, by preference a black one. The [pg 322] heart, lung, or liver is stuck all over with needles, or marked with a cross cut, or placed on the fire in a tightly closed vessel, strict silence being observed and doors and windows well shut. When the heart boils or is reduced to ashes, the witch must appear, for during the boiling she feels the burning pain. She either begs to be released or seeks to borrow something, for example, salt or a coal of fire, or she takes the lid off the pot, or tries to induce the person whose spell is on her to speak. They say, too, that a woman comes with a spinning-wheel. If it is a sheep that has died, you proceed in the same way with a tripe from its stomach and prick it with needles while it is on the boil. Instead of boiling it, some people nail the heart to the highest rafter of the house, or lay it on the edge of the hearth, in order that it may dry up, no doubt because the same thing happens to the witch. We may conjecture that other sympathetic means of destruction are employed against witchcraft. The following is expressly reported: the heart of a calf that has died is stuck all over with needles, enclosed in a bag, and thrown into flowing water before sunset.”786

It would certainly be easy to find many examples, all equally well-supported and genuine, of witches transforming into animals and the harm that these women have suffered from injuries done to the animals. But the previous evidence may be enough to show the complete similarity between witches and werewolves in these aspects. The comparison seems to back up the idea that the reason for burning a bewitched animal alive is the belief that the witch is inside the animal, and by burning it, you either completely destroy the witch or at least force her to reveal herself and return to her true human form, where she is naturally much less capable of causing harm than when she is roaming the land as a cat, a hare, a horse, or something else. This principle is still recognized by people in Oldenburg, although, as expected, they no longer fully follow through with it by burning the bewitched animal or person alive; instead, they resort to a weak and, it must be said, completely pointless evasion driven by misguided kindness or fear of the police. “When something living, like children or animals, is bewitched in a house, people will burn or boil the more important organs of animals, especially the hearts, but also the lungs or the liver. If animals have died, they use the organs of one of them or another animal of the same type killed for this purpose; but if that's not possible, they take the organs of a rooster, preferably a black one. The heart, lung, or liver is poked all over with needles, marked with a cross cut, or placed over the fire in a tightly closed container, while everyone remains silent and all doors and windows are shut tight. When the heart boils or turns to ashes, the witch must appear, as she feels the burning pain during the boiling. She either begs to be released or tries to borrow something, like salt or a piece of burning coal, or she lifts the pot's lid, or attempts to get the person she has cursed to speak. There are also claims that a woman comes with a spinning wheel. If a sheep has died, the same process is done with a piece from its stomach, poked with needles while it boils. Instead of boiling it, some people nail the heart to the highest rafter of the house or place it on the edge of the fireplace to dry, likely because the same destiny befalls the witch. It’s assumed that other sympathetic methods of destruction are employed against witchcraft. One specific method reported is taking the heart of a dead calf, sticking it all over with needles, putting it in a bag, and tossing it into flowing water before sunset.”786

The reason for burning cursed items is the same.

And the same thing holds good also of inanimate objects on which a witch has cast her spell. In Wales they say that “if a thing is bewitched, burn it, and immediately afterwards the witch will come to borrow something of you. If you give what she asks, she will go free; if you refuse it, she will burn, and a mark will be on her body the next day.”787 So, too, in Oldenburg, “the burning of things that are bewitched or that have been received from witches is another way of breaking the spell. It is often said that the burning should take place at a cross-road, and in several places cross-roads are shewn where the burning used to be performed.... As a rule, while the things are burning, the guilty witches appear, though not always in their own shape. At the burning of bewitched butter they often appear as cockchafers and can be killed with impunity. Victuals received from witches may be safely consumed if only you [pg 323] first burn a portion of them.”788 For example, a young man in Oldenburg was wooing a girl, and she gave him two fine apples as a gift. Not feeling any appetite at the time, he put the apples in his pocket, and when he came home he laid them by in a chest. Two or three days afterwards he remembered the apples and went to the chest to fetch them. But when he would have put his hand on them, what was his horror to find in their stead two fat ugly toads in the chest! He hastened to a wise man and asked him what he should do with the toads. The man told him to boil the toads alive, but while he was doing so he must be sure on no account to lend anything out of the house. Well, just as he had the toads in a pot on the fire and the water began to grow nicely warm, who should come to the door but the girl who had given him the apples, and she wished to borrow something; but he refused to give her anything, rated her as a witch, and drove her out of the house. A little afterwards in came the girl's mother and begged with tears in her eyes for something or other; but he turned her out also. The last word she said to him was that he should at least spare her daughter's life; but he paid no heed to her and let the toads boil till they fell to bits. Next day word came that the girl was dead.789 Can any reasonable man doubt that the witch herself was boiled alive in the person of the toads?

And the same goes for inanimate objects that a witch has cursed. In Wales, they say that “If something is cursed, burn it, and right after that, the witch will come to borrow something from you. If you give her what she wants, she will be free; if you refuse, she will burn, and a mark will show up on her body the next day.”787 Similarly, in Oldenburg, Burning items that are cursed or that you got from witches is another way to lift the curse. People often say that the burning should be done at a crossroads, and in many places, there are crossroads known for where burning used to occur. Typically, while things are burning, the guilty witches show up, though not always in their true form. When bewitched butter is burned, they often appear as cockchafers, and you can kill them without any consequences. Food received from witches can be eaten safely if you first burn a part of it.788 For example, a young man in Oldenburg was trying to win over a girl, and she gave him two nice apples as a gift. Not feeling hungry at the time, he put the apples in his pocket and, when he got home, set them aside in a chest. Two or three days later, he remembered the apples and went to the chest to get them. But to his horror, when he reached for them, he found two fat, ugly toads in the chest instead! He rushed to a wise man and asked what to do with the toads. The man advised him to boil the toads alive, but warned him not to lend anything out of the house while doing so. Just as he had the toads in a pot over the fire and the water started to warm up, who should come to the door but the girl who had given him the apples, asking to borrow something; but he refused to lend her anything, called her a witch, and kicked her out of the house. Shortly after, the girl’s mother came in, begging with tears in her eyes for something; but he turned her away too. The last thing she said to him was to spare her daughter’s life; but he ignored her and let the toads boil until they fell apart. The next day, news came that the girl was dead.789 Can any reasonable person doubt that the witch herself was boiled alive in the form of the toads?

Similarly, by burning a person whom you believe a witch has taken the form of, you force the witch to reveal herself. This was the case with the burning of a supposed witch in Ireland in 1895.

Moreover, just as a witch can assume the form of an animal, so she can assume the form of some other human being, and the likeness is sometimes so good that it is difficult to detect the fraud. However, by burning alive the person whose shape the witch has put on, you force the witch to disclose herself, just as by burning alive the bewitched animal you in like manner oblige the witch to appear. This principle may perhaps be unknown to science, falsely so called, but it is well understood in Ireland and has been acted on within recent years. In March 1895 a peasant named Michael Cleary, residing at Ballyvadlea, a remote and lonely district in the county of Tipperary, burned his wife [pg 324] Bridget Cleary alive over a slow fire on the kitchen hearth in the presence of and with the active assistance of some neighbours, including the woman's own father and several of her cousins. They thought that she was not Bridget Cleary at all, but a witch, and that when they held her down on the fire she would vanish up the chimney; so they cried, while she was burning, “Away she goes! Away she goes!” Even when she lay quite dead on the kitchen floor (for contrary to the general expectation she did not disappear up the chimney), her husband still believed that the woman lying there was a witch, and that his own dear wife had gone with the fairies to the old rath or fort on the hill of Kylenagranagh, where he would see her at night riding a grey horse and roped to the saddle, and that he would cut the ropes, and that she would stay with him ever afterwards. So he went with some friends to the fort night after night, taking a big table-knife with him to cut the ropes. But he never saw his wife again. He and the men who had held the woman on the fire were arrested and tried at Clonmel for wilful murder in July 1895; they were all found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to various terms of penal servitude and imprisonment; the sentence passed on Michael Cleary was twenty years' penal servitude.790

Moreover, just as a witch can take on the form of an animal, she can also take on the appearance of another person, and sometimes the resemblance is so convincing that it’s hard to tell the difference. However, by burning the person whose shape the witch has assumed, you force the witch to reveal herself, just like when you burn the bewitched animal, you make the witch appear as well. This principle might not be recognized by so-called science, but it’s well understood in Ireland and has been acted upon in recent years. In March 1895, a peasant named Michael Cleary, living in Ballyvadlea, a remote and isolated area in County Tipperary, burned his wife [pg 324] Bridget Cleary alive over a slow fire on the kitchen hearth, with the presence and active help of some neighbors, including her own father and several of her cousins. They believed she wasn’t really Bridget Cleary at all, but a witch, and thought that when they held her down on the fire, she would vanish up the chimney; so they shouted, while she was burning, "Here she goes! Here she goes!" Even when she lay dead on the kitchen floor (for, contrary to what everyone expected, she didn’t disappear up the chimney), her husband still thought the woman lying there was a witch and that his beloved wife had gone with the fairies to the old rath or fort on Kylenagranagh hill, where he would see her at night riding a grey horse, tied to the saddle, and that he would cut the ropes, and she would stay with him forever. So, he went to the fort night after night with some friends, bringing a big table knife to cut the ropes. But he never saw his wife again. He and the men who held the woman down on the fire were arrested and tried at Clonmel for willful murder in July 1895; they were all found guilty of manslaughter and received various sentences of penal servitude and imprisonment; Michael Cleary was sentenced to twenty years of penal servitude.790

Sometimes enchanted animals are buried alive instead of being burned.

However, our British peasants, it must be confessed, have not always acted up to the strict logical theory which seems to call for death by fire as the proper treatment both of bewitched animals and of witches. Sometimes, perhaps in moments of weakness, they have merely buried the bewitched animals alive instead of burning them. For example, in the year 1643, “many cattle having died, John Brughe and Neane Nikclerith, also one of the initiated, conjoined their mutual skill for the safety of the herd. The surviving animals were drove past a tub of water containing two enchanted stones: and each was sprinkled from the liquid contents in its course. One, however, being unable to walk, ‘was by force drawin out at the byre dure; [pg 325] and the said Johnne with Nikclerith smelling the nois thereof said it wald not leive, caused ane hoill to be maid in Maw Greane, quhilk was put quick in the hole and maid all the rest of the cattell theireftir to go over that place: and in that devillische maner, be charmeing,’ they were cured.”791 Again, during the prevalence of a murrain about the year 1629, certain persons proposed to stay the plague with the help of a celebrated “cureing stane” of which the laird of Lee was the fortunate owner. But from this they were dissuaded by one who “had sene bestiall curet be taking ane quik seik ox, and making ane deip pitt, and bureing him therin, and be calling the oxin and bestiall over that place.” Indeed Issobell Young, the mother of these persons, had herself endeavoured to check the progress of the distemper by taking “ane quik ox with ane catt, and ane grit quantitie of salt,” and proceeding “to burie the ox and catt quik with the salt, in ane deip hoill in the grund, as ane sacrifice to the devill, that the rest of the guidis might be fred of the seiknes or diseases.”792 Writing towards the end of the eighteenth century, John Ramsay of Ochtertyre tells us that “the violent death even of a brute is in some cases held to be of great avail. There is a disease called the black spauld, which sometimes rages like a pestilence among black cattle, the symptoms of which are a mortification in the legs and a corruption of the mass of blood. Among the other engines of superstition that are directed against this fatal malady, the first cow seized with it is commonly buried alive, and the other cattle are forced to pass backwards and forwards over the pit. At other times the heart is taken out of the beast alive, and then the carcass is buried. It is remarkable that the leg affected is cut off, and hung up in some part of the house or byre, where it remains suspended, notwithstanding the seeming danger of infection. There is hardly a house in Mull where these may not be seen. This practice seems to have taken its rise antecedent to Christianity, as it reminds us of the pagan custom of [pg 326] hanging up offerings in their temples. In Breadalbane, when a cow is observed to have symptoms of madness, there is recourse had to a peculiar process. They tie the legs of the mad creature, and throw her into a pit dug at the door of the fold. After covering the hole with earth, a large fire is kindled upon it; and the rest of the cattle are driven out, and forced to pass through the fire one by one.”793 In this latter custom we may suspect that the fire kindled on the grave of the buried cow was originally made by the friction of wood, in other words, that it was a need-fire. Again, writing in the year 1862, Sir Arthur Mitchell tells us that “for the cure of the murrain in cattle, one of the herd is still sacrificed for the good of the whole. This is done by burying it alive. I am assured that within the last ten years such a barbarism occurred in the county of Moray.”794

However, our British peasants have not always followed the strict logical theory that suggests burning bewitched animals and witches is the appropriate response. Sometimes, perhaps in moments of weakness, they have simply buried the bewitched animals alive instead of setting them on fire. For example, in 1643, “many cattle died, and John Brughe and Neane Nikclerith, who were both knowledgeable in the matter, joined their skills to protect the herd. The surviving animals were guided past a tub of water that contained two enchanted stones, and each was sprinkled with the liquid as it passed. One, however, was unable to walk, ‘was forcibly pulled out at the byre door; and John with Nikclerith, sensing the smell of it, said it would not survive, ordered a hole to be made in Maw Greane, where it was buried alive, and made all the rest of the cattle afterwards go over that spot: and in that devilish manner, by charming,’ they were cured.” Again, during a cattle plague around 1629, some people suggested stopping the outbreak with the help of a famous “healing stone” owned by the laird of Lee. But they were convinced otherwise by someone who “had seen cattle cured by taking a live sick ox, digging a deep pit, and burying it there, while calling the oxen and cattle over that spot.” Indeed, Issobell Young, the mother of these people, had tried to stop the disease by taking “a live ox with a cat and a large quantity of salt,” then proceeding “to bury the ox and cat alive with the salt in a deep hole in the ground, as a sacrifice to the devil, so that the rest of the goods might be freed from the sickness or diseases.” Writing towards the end of the 18th century, John Ramsay of Ochtertyre tells us that “the violent death of even an animal is in some cases believed to have great benefit. There is a disease known as the *black spauld*, which sometimes spreads like a plague among black cattle, causing mortification in the legs and corruption of the blood. Among the other superstitious practices used against this deadly illness, the first cow to catch it is usually buried alive, and the other cattle are made to walk back and forth over the pit. At times, the heart is taken out of the living animal, and then the carcass is buried. It is notable that the affected leg is severed and hung up in some area of the house or barn, where it remains suspended despite the apparent risk of infection. There is hardly a home in Mull where these can’t be seen. This practice seems to have started before Christianity, as it resembles the pagan custom of hanging up offerings in their temples. In Breadalbane, when a cow shows signs of madness, a specific process is employed. They tie the legs of the mad cow and throw her into a pit dug at the entrance to the fold. After covering the hole with earth, a large fire is lit on top of it; the rest of the cattle are then driven out and forced to walk through the fire one by one.” In this last custom, we might suspect that the fire lit on the grave of the buried cow was originally created by friction of wood, meaning it was a need-fire. Again, in 1862, Sir Arthur Mitchell tells us that “to cure the cattle plague, one from the herd is still sacrificed for the benefit of the whole. This is done by burying it alive. I have been told that such a barbarism occurred in the county of Moray within the last ten years.”

Calves were killed and buried to protect the rest of the herd.

Sometimes, however, the animal has not even been buried alive, it has been merely killed and then buried. In this emasculated form the sacrifice, we may say with confidence, is absolutely useless for the purpose of stopping a murrain. Nevertheless, it has been tried. Thus in Lincolnshire, “when the cattle plague was so prevalent in 1866, there was, I believe, not a single cowshed in Marshland but had its wicken cross over the door; and other charms more powerful than this were in some cases resorted to. I never heard of the use of the needfire in the Marsh, though it was, I believe, used on the wolds not many miles off. But I knew of at least one case in which a calf was killed and solemnly buried feet pointing upwards at the threshold of the cowshed. When our garthman told me of this, I pointed out to him that the charm had failed, for the disease had not spared that shed. But he promptly replied, ‘Yis, but owd Edwards were a soight too cliver; he were that mean he slew nobbutt a wankling cauf as were bound to deny anny road; if he had nobbutt tekken his best cauf it wud hev worked reight enuff; 'tain't [pg 327] in reason that owd skrat 'ud be hanselled wi' wankling draffle.’ ”795

Sometimes, however, the animal hasn't even been buried alive; it has just been killed and then buried. In this weakened form, we can confidently say that the sacrifice is completely useless for stopping a plague. Still, it has been attempted. For example, in Lincolnshire, “when the cattle plague was so widespread in 1866, I believe there wasn't a single cowshed in Marshland that didn't have its wicken cross over the door; and other charms stronger than this were sometimes used. I never heard of the needfire being used in the Marsh, although I believe it was used on the wolds not far away. But I knew of at least one case where a calf was killed and solemnly buried with its feet pointing upwards at the threshold of the cowshed. When our farm worker told me about this, I pointed out that the charm had failed because the disease hadn't spared that shed. But he quickly replied, ‘Yes, but old Edwards was quite clever; he was so stingy that he only killed a weak calf that was bound to fail anyway; if he had just taken his best calf, it would have worked just fine; it's unreasonable that old scrat should be honored with weak scraps.’”

[pg 328]

Chapter V. Understanding the Fire Festivals.

§ 1. About Fire Festivals in General.

The general similarities between the European fire festivals.

The foregoing survey of the popular fire-festivals of Europe suggests some general observations. In the first place we can hardly help being struck by the resemblance which the ceremonies bear to each other, at whatever time of the year and in whatever part of Europe they are celebrated. The custom of kindling great bonfires, leaping over them, and driving cattle through or round them would seem to have been practically universal throughout Europe, and the same may be said of the processions or races with blazing torches round fields, orchards, pastures, or cattle-stalls. Less widespread are the customs of hurling lighted discs into the air796 and trundling a burning wheel down hill;797 for to judge by the evidence which I have collected these modes of distributing the beneficial influence of the fire have been confined in the main to Central Europe. The ceremonial of the Yule log is distinguished from that of the other fire-festivals by the privacy and domesticity which characterize it; but, as we have already seen, this distinction may well be due simply to the rough weather of midwinter, which is apt not only to render a public assembly in the open air disagreeable, but also at any moment to defeat the object of the assembly by extinguishing the all-important fire under a downpour of rain or a fall of snow. Apart from these local or seasonal differences, the general resemblance between [pg 329] the fire-festivals at all times of the year and in all places is tolerably close. And as the ceremonies themselves resemble each other, so do the benefits which the people expect to reap from them. Whether applied in the form of bonfires blazing at fixed points, or of torches carried about from place to place, or of embers and ashes taken from the smouldering heap of fuel, the fire is believed to promote the growth of the crops and the welfare of man and beast, either positively by stimulating them, or negatively by averting the dangers and calamities which threaten them from such causes as thunder and lightning, conflagration, blight, mildew, vermin, sterility, disease, and not least of all witchcraft.

The previous overview of the popular fire festivals in Europe highlights some general points. First, it's striking how similar the ceremonies are, no matter when or where in Europe they take place. The tradition of lighting large bonfires, jumping over them, and driving cattle through or around them seems to be nearly universal across the continent. The same applies to the customs of processionals or races with burning torches around fields, orchards, pastures, or cattle pens. The practices of throwing lit discs into the air796 and rolling a burning wheel downhill797 are less common; based on the evidence I've gathered, these methods of spreading the fire's beneficial influence are mostly found in Central Europe. The Yule log ceremony stands apart from other fire festivals due to its privacy and domestic nature; however, as we've already discussed, this difference might simply be a result of the harsh winter weather, which can make public gatherings uncomfortable and could easily put out the crucial fire with rain or snow. Besides these local or seasonal variations, the general similarity between fire festivals at all times and in all locations is quite strong. Just as the ceremonies themselves are alike, so are the benefits that people expect to gain from them. Whether through bonfires lit at set locations, torches moved from place to place, or embers and ashes taken from the smoldering fire, people believe that fire helps crops grow and supports the well-being of humans and animals, either by actively encouraging them or by warding off threats and disasters, such as thunder and lightning, fire, blight, mildew, pests, infertility, disease, and especially witchcraft.

There are two explanations proposed for the fire festivals. W. Mannhardt suggests that they are rituals to ensure a supply of sunshine; Dr. E. Westermarck believes they serve a purifying purpose, meant to burn and eliminate all harmful influences.

But we naturally ask, How did it come about that benefits so great and manifold were supposed to be attained by means so simple? In what way did people imagine that they could procure so many goods or avoid so many ills by the application of fire and smoke, of embers and ashes? In short, what theory underlay and prompted the practice of these customs? For that the institution of the festivals was the outcome of a definite train of reasoning may be taken for granted; the view that primitive man acted first and invented his reasons to suit his actions afterwards, is not borne out by what we know of his nearest living representatives, the savage and the peasant. Two different explanations of the fire-festivals have been given by modern enquirers. On the one hand it has been held that they are sun-charms or magical ceremonies intended, on the principle of imitative magic, to ensure a needful supply of sunshine for men, animals, and plants by kindling fires which mimic on earth the great source of light and heat in the sky. This was the view of Wilhelm Mannhardt.798 It may be called the solar theory. On the other hand it has been maintained that the ceremonial fires have no necessary reference to the sun but are simply purificatory in intention, being designed to burn up and destroy all harmful influences, whether these are conceived in a personal form as witches, demons, and monsters, or in an impersonal form as a sort of pervading taint or corruption of the air. This is the view of Dr. [pg 330] Edward Westermarck799 and apparently of Professor Eugen Mogk.800 It may be called the purificatory theory. Obviously the two theories postulate two very different conceptions of the fire which plays the principal part in the rites. On the one view, the fire, like sunshine in our latitude, is a genial creative power which fosters the growth of plants and the development of all that makes for health and happiness; on the other view, the fire is a fierce destructive power which blasts and consumes all the noxious elements, whether spiritual or material, that menace the life of men, of animals, and of plants. According to the one theory the fire is a stimulant, according to the other it is a disinfectant; on the one view its virtue is positive, on the other it is negative.

But we naturally ask, how did it happen that such great and diverse benefits were thought to be achieved through such simple means? How did people imagine they could obtain so many goods or avoid so many problems by using fire and smoke, embers, and ashes? In short, what theory underpinned and motivated the practice of these customs? It's reasonable to assume that the institution of the festivals resulted from a specific line of reasoning; the idea that primitive humans acted first and then made up their reasons to fit their actions afterward is not supported by what we know about their closest living counterparts, the savage and the peasant. Modern researchers have provided two different explanations for the fire festivals. On one hand, it's believed that they are sun-charms or magical ceremonies that, based on the principle of imitative magic, aim to secure a necessary supply of sunshine for humans, animals, and plants by lighting fires that mimic the great source of light and heat in the sky. This perspective comes from Wilhelm Mannhardt. It can be called the solar theory. On the other hand, it's suggested that the ceremonial fires don't necessarily relate to the sun but are simply meant for purification, designed to burn away and eliminate harmful influences, whether these are seen as witches, demons, and monsters or as a general taint or corruption of the air. This is the viewpoint of Dr. Edward Westermarck and seemingly of Professor Eugen Mogk. It may be called the purificatory theory. Clearly, the two theories suggest two very different notions of the fire that plays the central role in the rituals. In one view, the fire, like sunshine in our region, is a nurturing creative force that promotes the growth of plants and the development of everything that contributes to health and happiness. In the other view, the fire is a fierce destructive force that scorches and consumes all the harmful elements, whether spiritual or material, that threaten the lives of humans, animals, and plants. According to one theory, the fire is a stimulant; according to the other, it is a disinfectant. In one perspective, its purpose is positive; in the other, it is negative.

The two explanations might not be mutually exclusive.

Yet the two explanations, different as they are in the character which they attribute to the fire, are perhaps not wholly irreconcilable. If we assume that the fires kindled at these festivals were primarily intended to imitate the sun's light and heat, may we not regard the purificatory and disinfecting qualities, which popular opinion certainly appears to have ascribed to them, as attributes derived directly from the purificatory and disinfecting qualities of sunshine? In this way we might conclude that, while the imitation of sunshine in these ceremonies was primary and original, the purification attributed to them was secondary and derivative. Such a conclusion, occupying an intermediate position between the two opposing theories and recognizing an element of truth in both of them, was adopted by me in earlier editions of this work;801 but in the meantime Dr. Westermarck [pg 331] has argued powerfully in favour of the purificatory theory alone, and I am bound to say that his arguments carry great weight, and that on a fuller review of the facts the balance of evidence seems to me to incline decidedly in his favour. However, the case is not so clear as to justify us in dismissing the solar theory without discussion, and accordingly I propose to adduce the considerations which tell for it before proceeding to notice those which tell against it. A theory which had the support of so learned and sagacious an investigator as W. Mannhardt is entitled to a respectful hearing.

Yet the two explanations, though different in how they define the fire, might not be completely incompatible. If we assume that the fires lit at these festivals were mainly meant to mimic the sun's light and warmth, can we not consider the purifying and disinfecting qualities that popular belief seems to attribute to them as traits taken directly from the purifying and disinfecting nature of sunshine? This way, we could conclude that while imitating sunshine was the primary and original intent in these ceremonies, the purification linked to them was secondary and derived. Such a conclusion, which finds a middle ground between the two opposing theories and acknowledges some truth in both, was my stance in earlier editions of this work; 801 but since then, Dr. Westermarck [pg 331] has made a strong case solely for the purificatory theory, and I must say that his arguments are compelling and that, upon further review of the evidence, it seems to shift decisively in his favor. However, the issue isn't so clear-cut that we can dismiss the solar theory without consideration, so I plan to present the reasons supporting it before discussing the arguments against it. A theory that had the backing of such a knowledgeable and insightful researcher as W. Mannhardt deserves a thoughtful examination.

§ 2. The Solar Theory of the Fire Festivals.

The idea that fire festivals are rituals to guarantee a continuous supply of sunlight.

In an earlier part of this work we saw that savages resort to charms for making sunshine,802 and it would be no wonder if primitive man in Europe did the same. Indeed, when we consider the cold and cloudy climate of Europe during a great part of the year, we shall find it natural that sun-charms should have played a much more prominent part among the superstitious practices of European peoples than among those of savages who live nearer the equator and who consequently are apt to get in the course of nature more sunshine than they want. This view of the festivals may be supported by various arguments drawn partly from their dates, partly from the nature of the rites, and partly from the influence which they are believed to exert upon the weather and on vegetation.

In an earlier part of this work, we saw that primitive people use charms to bring sunshine, and it wouldn’t be surprising if early humans in Europe did the same. When we think about Europe’s cold and cloudy climate for much of the year, it makes sense that sun charms played a more significant role in the superstitious practices of European cultures than among those living closer to the equator, who naturally receive more sunshine than they need. This perspective on the festivals can be backed up by various arguments based on their timing, the nature of the rituals, and the influence they are thought to have on the weather and plant life.

The overlap of two of the festivals with the solstices.

First, in regard to the dates of the festivals it can be no mere accident that two of the most important and widely spread of the festivals are timed to coincide more or less exactly with the summer and winter solstices, that is, with the two turning-points in the sun's apparent course in the sky when he reaches respectively his highest and his lowest elevation at noon. Indeed with respect to the midwinter celebration of Christmas we are not left to conjecture; we [pg 332] know from the express testimony of the ancients that it was instituted by the church to supersede an old heathen festival of the birth of the sun,803 which was apparently conceived to be born again on the shortest day of the year, after which his light and heat were seen to grow till they attained their full maturity at midsummer. Therefore it is no very far-fetched conjecture to suppose that the Yule log, which figures so prominently in the popular celebration of Christmas, was originally designed to help the labouring sun of midwinter to rekindle his seemingly expiring light.

First, regarding the dates of the festivals, it's no coincidence that two of the most important and widely celebrated festivals align closely with the summer and winter solstices, which are the two turning points in the sun's path in the sky when it reaches its highest and lowest point at noon. In fact, concerning the midwinter celebration of Christmas, we know for sure from historical sources that it was established by the church to replace an old pagan festival celebrating the birth of the sun, which was believed to be reborn on the shortest day of the year. After that day, the sun's light and heat were seen to grow until they reached their peak at midsummer. So, it’s not too far-fetched to think that the Yule log, which is such a significant part of the Christmas celebration, was originally meant to help the struggling sun of midwinter restore its fading light.

Bushmen trying to warm the fire of Sirius in midwinter by lighting sticks.

The idea that by lighting a log on earth you can rekindle a fire in heaven or fan it into a brighter blaze, naturally seems to us absurd; but to the savage mind it wears a different aspect, and the institution of the great fire-festivals which we are considering probably dates from a time when Europe was still sunk in savagery or at most in barbarism. Now it can be shewn that in order to increase the celestial source of heat at midwinter savages resort to a practice analogous to that of our Yule log, if the kindling of the Yule log was originally a magical rite intended to rekindle the sun. In the southern hemisphere, where the order of the seasons is the reverse of ours, the rising of Sirius or the Dog Star in July marks the season of the greatest cold instead of, as with us, the greatest heat; and just as the civilized ancients ascribed the torrid heat of midsummer to that brilliant star,804 so the modern savage of South Africa attributes to it the piercing cold of midwinter and seeks to mitigate its rigour by warming up the chilly star with the genial heat of the sun. How he does so may be best described in his own words as follows:—805

The idea that by lighting a log on the ground you can restart a fire in the sky or make it burn brighter seems ridiculous to us; however, to a primitive mindset, it looks very different. The large fire festivals we’re discussing probably began back when Europe was still in a state of savagery or maybe just starting to progress toward civilization. We can show that to boost the heavenly source of warmth during winter, primitive people have a practice similar to our Yule log. If the lighting of the Yule log was once a magical ritual meant to reignite the sun, then that makes sense. In the southern hemisphere, where the seasons are flipped compared to ours, the rising of Sirius, or the Dog Star, in July signals the coldest time instead of, like for us, the hottest. Just as ancient civilizations assumed that the intense heat of midsummer came from that bright star, a modern tribesman in South Africa believes that it causes the freezing cold of midwinter and tries to lessen its chill by warming the cold star with the sun's friendly heat. How he accomplishes this can best be described in his own words as follows:—805

[pg 333]

“The Bushmen perceive Canopus, they say to a child: ‘Give me yonder piece of wood, that I may put the end of it in the fire, that I may point it burning towards grandmother, for grandmother carries Bushman rice; grandmother shall make a little warmth for us; for she coldly comes out; the sun806 shall warm grandmother's eye for us.’ Sirius comes out; the people call out to one another: ‘Sirius comes yonder;’ they say to one another: ‘Ye must burn a stick for us towards Sirius.’ They say to one another: ‘Who was it who saw Sirius?’ One man says to the other: ‘Our brother saw Sirius.’ The other man says to him: ‘I saw Sirius.’ The other man says to him: ‘I wish thee to burn a stick for us towards Sirius; that the sun may shining come out for us; that Sirius may not coldly come out.’ The other man (the one who saw Sirius) says to his son: ‘Bring me the small piece of wood yonder, that I may put the end of it in the fire, that I may burn it towards grandmother; that grandmother may ascend the sky, like the other one, Canopus.’ The child brings him the piece of wood, he (the father) holds the end of it in the fire. He points it burning towards Sirius; he says that Sirius shall twinkle like Canopus. He sings; he sings about Canopus, he sings about Sirius; he points to them with fire,807 that they may twinkle like each other. He throws fire at them. He covers himself up entirely (including his head) in his kaross and lies down. He arises, he sits down; while he does not again lie down; because he feels that he has worked, putting Sirius into the sun's warmth; so that Sirius may warmly come out. The women go out early to seek for Bushman rice; they walk, sunning their shoulder blades.”808 What the Bushmen thus do to temper the cold of midwinter in the southern hemisphere by blowing up the celestial fires may have been done by our rude forefathers at the corresponding season in the northern hemisphere.

The Bushmen notice Canopus and say to a child: ‘Grab that piece of wood over there so I can stick one end in the fire and point it towards grandmother, since grandmother has Bushman rice; she will warm us up a bit; she comes out chilly; the sun __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ will warm grandmother's eye for us.’ Sirius appears, and the people shout to each other: ‘Sirius is up there;’ they inform one another: ‘You need to burn a stick for us pointing towards Sirius.’ They ask each other: ‘Who saw Sirius?’ One man tells another: ‘Our brother saw Sirius.’ The other responds: ‘I saw Sirius.’ Then the first man says: ‘I want you to burn a stick for us towards Sirius so the sun can shine for us; so that Sirius won't come out chilly.’ The man who saw Sirius tells his son: ‘Get me that small piece of wood over there so I can put one end in the fire and burn it towards grandmother; so that grandmother may rise into the sky, like Canopus.’ The child brings him the piece of wood, and he (the father) holds one end in the fire. He points the burning end towards Sirius and says that Sirius should twinkle like Canopus. He sings; he sings about Canopus, he sings about Sirius; he points to them with fire, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__ so they can twinkle like one another. He throws fire at them. He wraps himself completely (including his head) in his kaross and lies down. He gets up, sits down; and he doesn't lie down again; because he feels he's completed the work of putting Sirius into the sun's warmth; so that Sirius may come out warmly. The women head out early to gather Bushman rice; they walk, soaking up the sun on their shoulders.808 What the Bushmen do to warm up from the cold of midwinter in the southern hemisphere may have been done by our primitive ancestors during the corresponding season in the northern hemisphere.

[pg 334]

The blazing wheels and discs at the fire festivals might be direct copies of the sun.

Not only the date of some of the festivals but the manner of their celebration suggests a conscious imitation of the sun. The custom of rolling a burning wheel down a hill, which is often observed at these ceremonies, might well pass for an imitation of the sun's course in the sky, and the imitation would be especially appropriate on Midsummer Day when the sun's annual declension begins. Indeed the custom has been thus interpreted by some of those who have recorded it.809 Not less graphic, it may be said, is the mimicry of his apparent revolution by swinging a burning tar-barrel round a pole.810 Again, the common practice of throwing fiery discs, sometimes expressly said to be shaped like suns, into the air at the festivals may well be a piece of imitative magic. In these, as in so many cases, the magic force may be supposed to take effect through mimicry or sympathy: by imitating the desired result you actually produce it: by counterfeiting the sun's progress through the heavens you really help the luminary to pursue his celestial journey with punctuality and despatch. The name “fire of heaven,” by which the midsummer fire is sometimes popularly known,811 clearly implies a consciousness of a connexion between the earthly and the heavenly flame.

Not only do the dates of some of the festivals suggest a deliberate imitation of the sun, but also the way they are celebrated. The tradition of rolling a burning wheel down a hill, commonly seen at these events, can easily be seen as mimicking the sun's path across the sky, and this imitation is particularly fitting on Midsummer Day when the sun begins its annual decline. In fact, some who have documented this practice have interpreted it in this way.809 Equally vivid is the mimicry of the sun’s apparent movement through the act of swinging a burning tar-barrel around a pole.810 Moreover, the usual practice of tossing fiery discs, sometimes specifically said to resemble suns, into the air at the festivals may serve as a form of imitative magic. In these cases, as in many others, the magical effect is believed to occur through mimicry or sympathy: by imitating the desired outcome, you actually bring it to life; by replicating the sun's journey through the sky, you genuinely assist the sun in completing its heavenly voyage on time. The term “heavenly fire,” by which the midsummer fire is occasionally known,811 clearly suggests an awareness of a connection between the earthly and the heavenly flames.

The wheel that's sometimes used to spark a fire through friction might also be a representation of the sun.

Again, the manner in which the fire appears to have been originally kindled on these occasions has been alleged in support of the view that it was intended to be a mock-sun. As some scholars have perceived, it is highly probable [pg 335] that at the periodic festivals in former times fire was universally obtained by the friction of two pieces of wood.812 We have seen that it is still so procured in some places both at the Easter and the midsummer festivals, and that it is expressly said to have been formerly so procured at the Beltane celebration both in Scotland and Wales.813 But what makes it nearly certain that this was once the invariable mode of kindling the fire at these periodic festivals is the analogy of the need-fire, which has almost always been produced by the friction of wood, and sometimes by the revolution of a wheel. It is a plausible conjecture that the wheel employed for this purpose represents the sun,814 and if the fires at the regularly recurring celebrations were formerly produced in the same way, it might be regarded as a confirmation of the view that they were originally sun-charms. In point of fact there is, as Kuhn has indicated,815 some evidence to shew that the midsummer fire was originally thus produced. We have seen that many Hungarian swine-herds make fire on Midsummer Eve by rotating a wheel round a wooden axle wrapt in hemp, and that they drive their pigs through the fire thus made.816 At Obermedlingen, in Swabia, the “fire of heaven,” as it was called, was made on St. Vitus's Day (the fifteenth of June) by igniting a cart-wheel, which, smeared with pitch and plaited with straw, was fastened on a pole twelve feet high, the top of the pole being inserted in the nave of the wheel. This fire was [pg 336] made on the summit of a mountain, and as the flame ascended, the people uttered a set form of words, with eyes and arms directed heavenward.817 Here the fixing of a wheel on a pole and igniting it suggests that originally the fire was produced, as in the case of the need-fire, by the revolution of a wheel. The day on which the ceremony takes place (the fifteenth of June) is near midsummer; and we have seen that in Masuren fire is, or used to be, actually made on Midsummer Day by turning a wheel rapidly about an oaken pole,818 though it is not said that the new fire so obtained is used to light a bonfire. However, we must bear in mind that in all such cases the use of a wheel may be merely a mechanical device to facilitate the operation of fire-making by increasing the friction; it need not have any symbolical significance.

Once again, the way the fire seems to have been initially started on these occasions has been claimed to support the idea that it was meant to represent a mock-sun. As some scholars have noted, it's quite likely [pg 335] that in past periodic festivals, fire was commonly produced by rubbing two pieces of wood together.812 We have seen that this is still done in some areas during the Easter and midsummer festivals, and it's specifically mentioned that it was previously done at the Beltane celebration in both Scotland and Wales.813 What makes it almost certain that this was once the standard way of igniting the fire at these periodic festivals is the similarity to the need-fire, which has almost always been generated through the friction of wood, and sometimes by the turning of a wheel. It’s a reasonable guess that the wheel used for this represents the sun,814 and if the fires at these regularly held celebrations were formerly ignited in the same manner, it could confirm the view that they were originally sun-charms. In fact, as Kuhn has indicated,815 there's some evidence suggesting that the midsummer fire was initially created this way. We've observed that many Hungarian pig herders create fire on Midsummer Eve by spinning a wheel around a wooden axle wrapped in hemp, and they lead their pigs through the resulting fire.816 In Obermedlingen, Swabia, the “heavenly fire,” as it was known, was made on St. Vitus's Day (the fifteenth of June) by lighting a cart-wheel, which was coated with pitch and woven with straw, and attached to a twelve-foot-high pole, with the top of the pole inserted in the center of the wheel. This fire was [pg 336] created on the peak of a mountain, and as the flames rose, the people recited a set phrase while looking up and raising their arms.817 Here, the act of securing a wheel to a pole and igniting it suggests that the fire was originally generated, like with the need-fire, through the turning of a wheel. The day of the ceremony (the fifteenth of June) is close to midsummer; and we have seen that in Masuren, fire is, or was, actually made on Midsummer Day by quickly spinning a wheel around an oak pole,818 although it’s not mentioned that the new fire produced is used to light a bonfire. However, we should keep in mind that in all such instances, using a wheel might simply be a mechanical method to make producing fire easier by increasing friction; it doesn’t necessarily have any symbolic meaning.

The impact that fires are believed to have on the weather and plant life is thought to result from an increase in solar heat caused by the fires.

Further, the influence which these fires, whether periodic or occasional, are supposed to exert on the weather and vegetation may be cited in support of the view that they are sun-charms, since the effects ascribed to them resemble those of sunshine. Thus, the French belief that in a rainy June the lighting of the midsummer bonfires will cause the rain to cease819 appears to assume that they can disperse the dark clouds and make the sun to break out in radiant glory, drying the wet earth and dripping trees. Similarly the use of the need-fire by Swiss children on foggy days for the purpose of clearing away the mist820 may very naturally be interpreted as a sun-charm. Again, we have seen that in the Vosges Mountains the people believe that the midsummer fires help to preserve the fruits of the earth and ensure good crops.821 In Sweden the warmth or cold of the coming season is inferred from the direction in which the flames of the May Day bonfire are blown; if they blow to the south, it will be warm, if to the north, cold.822 No doubt at present the direction of the flames is regarded merely as an augury of the weather, not as a mode of influencing it. But we may be pretty sure that this is one of the cases in which magic has dwindled into divination. So in the Eifel [pg 337] Mountains, when the smoke blows towards the corn-fields, this is an omen that the harvest will be abundant.823 But the older view may have been not merely that the smoke and flames prognosticated, but that they actually produced an abundant harvest, the heat of the flames acting like sunshine on the corn. Perhaps it was with this view that people in the Isle of Man lit fires to windward of their fields in order that the smoke might blow over them.824 So in South Africa, about the month of April, the Matabeles light huge fires to the windward of their gardens, “their idea being that the smoke, by passing over the crops, will assist the ripening of them.”825 Among the Zulus also “medicine is burned on a fire placed to windward of the garden, the fumigation which the plants in consequence receive being held to improve the crop.”826 Again, the idea of our European peasants that the corn will grow well as far as the blaze of the bonfire is visible,827 may be interpreted as a remnant of the belief in the quickening and fertilizing power of the bonfires. The same belief, it may be argued, reappears in the notion that embers taken from the bonfires and inserted in the fields will promote the growth of the crops,828 and it may be thought to underlie the customs of sowing flax-seed in the direction in which the flames blow,829 of mixing the ashes of the bonfire with the seed-corn at sowing,830 of scattering the ashes by themselves over the field to fertilize it,831 and of incorporating a piece of the Yule log in the plough to make the seeds thrive.832 The opinion that the flax or hemp will grow as high as the flames rise or the people leap over them833 belongs clearly to the same class of ideas. Again, at Konz, on the banks of the Moselle, if the blazing wheel which was trundled down the hillside reached the river without being extinguished, this was hailed as a proof that the [pg 338] vintage would be abundant. So firmly was this belief held that the successful performance of the ceremony entitled the villagers to levy a tax upon the owners of the neighbouring vineyards.834 Here the unextinguished wheel might be taken to represent an unclouded sun, which in turn would portend an abundant vintage. So the waggon-load of white wine which the villagers received from the vineyards round about might pass for a payment for the sunshine which they had procured for the grapes. Similarly we saw that in the Vale of Glamorgan a blazing wheel used to be trundled down hill on Midsummer Day, and that if the fire were extinguished before the wheel reached the foot of the hill, the people expected a bad harvest; whereas if the wheel kept alight all the way down and continued to blaze for a long time, the farmers looked forward to heavy crops that summer.835 Here, again, it is natural to suppose that the rustic mind traced a direct connexion between the fire of the wheel and the fire of the sun, on which the crops are dependent.

Furthermore, the impact that these fires, whether regular or occasional, are believed to have on the weather and plant life can be cited to support the notion that they act as sun-charms, since the results attributed to them are similar to those of sunshine. Thus, the French belief that lighting midsummer bonfires during a rainy June will cause the rain to stop appears to imply that they can disperse dark clouds and allow the sun to shine brightly, drying the wet ground and dripping trees. Similarly, the use of the need-fire by Swiss children on foggy days to clear away mist may very well be seen as a sun-charm. Again, we have observed that in the Vosges Mountains, people believe that midsummer fires help to preserve the fruits of the earth and ensure good harvests. In Sweden, the heat or chill of the upcoming season is inferred from the direction in which the flames of the May Day bonfire burn; if they blow south, it will be warm, if north, cold. No doubt now the direction of the flames is regarded merely as a weather omen, not as a means of influencing it. But we can be fairly certain that this is one of those cases where magic has shifted into mere divination. In the Eifel Mountains, when the smoke blows toward the cornfields, it is seen as a sign of an abundant harvest. However, the older belief might have been not just that the smoke and flames predicted abundance, but that they actually produced a bountiful harvest, with the heat of the flames acting like sunshine on the crops. Perhaps this was the reasoning behind why people in the Isle of Man lit fires upwind of their fields so that the smoke would blow over them. Similarly, in South Africa, around April, the Matabeles light large fires upwind of their gardens, "believing that the smoke, by passing over the crops, will aid in their ripening.” Among the Zulus, “medicine is burned on a fire placed upwind of the garden, with the resulting fumigation believed to improve the crop.” Again, the belief among European peasants that corn will grow well as far as the bonfire's blaze is visible may be interpreted as a remnant of the idea of the bonfires' quickening and fertilizing power. This same belief may reappear in the notion that embers taken from the bonfires and placed in the fields will promote crop growth, and it may also underlie the customs of sowing flax-seed in the direction of the flames, mixing bonfire ashes with the seed-corn at sowing, scattering ashes alone over the field to fertilize it, and incorporating a piece of the Yule log in the plough to help the seeds thrive. The belief that flax or hemp will grow as tall as the flames rise or as high as people leap over them clearly belongs to the same category of ideas. Additionally, at Konz, along the Moselle, if the blazing wheel that was rolled down the hillside reached the river without being extinguished, it was seen as evidence that the vintage would be plentiful. This belief was so strong that the successful completion of the ceremony allowed the villagers to impose a tax on the owners of nearby vineyards. Here, the unextinguished wheel might symbolize an unobstructed sun, which in turn would signal an abundant vintage. Thus, the waggon-load of white wine that the villagers received from the local vineyards could be considered payment for the sunshine they had ensured for the grapes. Similarly, we saw that in the Vale of Glamorgan, a blazing wheel used to be rolled downhill on Midsummer Day, and if the fire went out before the wheel reached the bottom, people expected a poor harvest; whereas if the wheel remained lit all the way down and continued to burn brightly for a long time, farmers anticipated a bountiful summer harvest. Here again, it is logical to suppose that the rural mind made a direct connection between the fire of the wheel and the fire of the sun, which the crops depend on.

The effect that bonfires are believed to have in fertilizing cattle and women may also be linked to an increase in solar heat generated by the fires.

But in popular belief the quickening and fertilizing influence of the bonfires is not limited to the vegetable world; it extends also to animals. This plainly appears from the Irish custom of driving barren cattle through the mid-summer fires,836 from the French belief that the Yule-log steeped in water helps cows to calve,837 from the French and Servian notion that there will be as many chickens, calves, lambs, and kids as there are sparks struck out of the Yule log,838 from the French custom of putting the ashes of the bonfires in the fowls' nests to make the hens lay eggs,839 and from the German practice of mixing the ashes of the bonfires with the drink of cattle in order to make the animals thrive.840 Further, there are clear indications that even human fecundity is supposed to be promoted by the genial heat of the fires. In Morocco the people think that childless couples can obtain offspring by leaping over the midsummer bonfire.841 It is an Irish belief that a girl who jumps thrice over the midsummer bonfire will soon marry and become the mother [pg 339] of many children;842 in Flanders women leap over the Midsummer fires to ensure an easy delivery;843 and in various parts of France they think that if a girl dances round nine fires she will be sure to marry within the year.844 On the other hand, in Lechrain people say that if a young man and woman, leaping over the midsummer fire together, escape unsmirched, the young woman will not become a mother within twelve months:845 the flames have not touched and fertilized her. In parts of Switzerland and France the lighting of the Yule log is accompanied by a prayer that the women may bear children, the she-goats bring forth kids, and the ewes drop lambs.846 The rule observed in some places that the bonfires should be kindled by the person who was last married847 seems to belong to the same class of ideas, whether it be that such a person is supposed to receive from, or to impart to, the fire a generative and fertilizing influence. The common practice of lovers leaping over the fires hand in hand may very well have originated in a notion that thereby their marriage would be blessed with offspring; and the like motive would explain the custom which obliges couples married within the year to dance to the light of torches.848 And the scenes of profligacy which appear to have marked the midsummer celebration among the Esthonians,849 as they once marked the celebration of May Day among ourselves, may have sprung, not from the mere license of holiday-makers, but from a crude notion that such orgies were justified, if not required, by some mysterious bond which linked the life of man to the courses of the heavens at this turning-point of the year.

But in popular belief, the energizing and fertilizing effect of the bonfires isn't just for plants; it also applies to animals. This is evident from the Irish tradition of driving barren cattle through mid-summer fires, from the French belief that soaking the Yule-log in water helps cows give birth, from the idea in France and Serbia that the number of chickens, calves, lambs, and kids will match the sparks from the Yule log, from the French custom of putting bonfire ashes in hens' nests to encourage egg-laying, and from the German practice of mixing bonfire ashes with livestock feed to help the animals thrive. Furthermore, there are clear signs that even human fertility is believed to be boosted by the warm glow of the fires. In Morocco, people think childless couples can have children by jumping over the midsummer bonfire. There's an Irish belief that a girl who jumps three times over the midsummer bonfire will marry soon and become the mother of many children; in Flanders, women leap over Midsummer fires to ensure a smooth delivery; and in various regions of France, it's believed that if a girl dances around nine fires, she'll definitely marry within the year. On the flip side, in Lechrain, people say that if a young man and woman leap over the midsummer fire together and make it through unscathed, the woman won't become a mother within a year—the flames haven't touched and fertilized her. In parts of Switzerland and France, lighting the Yule log is accompanied by a prayer for women to bear children, and for she-goats to give birth to kids, and ewes to have lambs. The practice in some places of having the bonfires lit by the last married person seems to stem from the same idea, whether that person is thought to receive or impart a generative and fertilizing influence from the fire. The common practice of lovers jumping over fires hand in hand may have originated from the belief that their marriage would be blessed with children; a similar motive could explain the tradition that requires couples married within the year to dance by the light of torches. The wild behavior seen during the midsummer celebrations among the Estonians, much like how May Day was celebrated here, may have arisen not from mere holiday revelry, but from a primitive belief that such festivities were justified—if not essential—due to some mysterious connection between human life and the movements of the heavens at this seasonal turning point.

The tradition of carrying lit torches around the country during festivals can be seen as an effort to spread the sun's warmth.

At the festivals which we are considering the custom of kindling bonfires is commonly associated with a custom of carrying lighted torches about the fields, the orchards, the pastures, the flocks and the herds; and we can hardly doubt that the two customs are only two different ways of attaining the same object, namely, the benefits which are believed to flow from the fire, whether it be stationary or portable. [pg 340] Accordingly if we accept the solar theory of the bonfires, we seem bound to apply it also to the torches; we must suppose that the practice of marching or running with blazing torches about the country is simply a means of diffusing far and wide the genial influence of the sunshine, of which these flickering flames are a feeble imitation. In favour of this view it may be said that sometimes the torches are carried about the fields for the express purpose of fertilizing them,850 and for the same purpose live coals from the bonfires are sometimes placed in the fields “to prevent blight.”851 On the Eve of Twelfth Day in Normandy men, women, and children run wildly through the fields and orchards with lighted torches, which they wave about the branches and dash against the trunks of the fruit-trees for the sake of burning the moss and driving away the moles and field mice. “They believe that the ceremony fulfils the double object of exorcizing the vermin whose multiplication would be a real calamity, and of imparting fecundity to the trees, the fields, and even the cattle”; and they imagine that the more the ceremony is prolonged, the greater will be the crop of fruit next autumn.852 In Bohemia they say that the corn will grow as high as they fling the blazing besoms into the air.853 Nor are such notions confined to Europe. In Corea, a few days before the New Year festival, the eunuchs of the palace swing burning torches, chanting invocations the while, and this is supposed to ensure bountiful crops for the next season.854 The custom of trundling a burning wheel [pg 341] over the fields, which used to be observed in Poitou for the express purpose of fertilizing them,855 may be thought to embody the same idea in a still more graphic form; since in this way the mock-sun itself, not merely its light and heat represented by torches, is made actually to pass over the ground which is to receive its quickening and kindly influence. Once more, the custom of carrying lighted brands round cattle856 is plainly equivalent to driving the animals through the bonfire; and if the bonfire is a sun-charm, the torches must be so also.

At the festivals we’re looking at, the tradition of lighting bonfires is often linked with the practice of carrying lit torches around the fields, orchards, pastures, flocks, and herds. It’s hard to deny that these two customs serve the same purpose, that is, the benefits thought to come from fire, whether it’s stationary or portable. [pg 340] If we accept the solar theory behind the bonfires, we should apply it to the torches as well; we can assume that parading or running with flaming torches across the land is meant to spread the warm influence of sunshine, which these flickering flames faintly imitate. In support of this idea, it can be noted that sometimes torches are taken out to the fields specifically to fertilize them, 850 and live coals from the bonfires are sometimes placed in the fields "to prevent damage." 851 On the Eve of Twelfth Day in Normandy, men, women, and children dash through the fields and orchards with lighted torches, waving them around the branches and hitting them against the trunks of fruit trees to burn away moss and scare off moles and field mice. "They think the ceremony has two purposes: to get rid of pests whose overpopulation could be a disaster, and to make the trees, fields, and even livestock more productive." and they think that the longer the ceremony lasts, the better the fruit harvest will be next autumn. 852 In Bohemia, they say that the corn will grow as high as they throw the blazing brooms into the air. 853 Such beliefs aren’t limited to Europe. In Korea, just days before the New Year festival, the palace eunuchs swing burning torches while chanting incantations, and this is believed to guarantee a plentiful crop for the next season. 854 The tradition of rolling a burning wheel [pg 341] over the fields, which used to occur in Poitou for the specific purpose of fertilizing them, 855 can be seen as embodying this idea in a more vivid way; since this method allows the mock-sun itself—not just its light and heat represented by torches—to actually pass over the land needing its nurturing and beneficial influence. Furthermore, the practice of carrying lit brands around cattle 856 is essentially the same as driving the animals through the bonfire; and if the bonfire is a charm for the sun, then so too must be the torches.

§ 3. The Purification Theory of the Fire Festivals.

The idea is that the fires at the festivals are meant to purify by burning away all harmful things.

Thus far we have considered what may be said for the theory that at the European fire-festivals the fire is kindled as a charm to ensure an abundant supply of sunshine for man and beast, for corn and fruits. It remains to consider what may be said against this theory and in favour of the view that in these rites fire is employed not as a creative but as a cleansing agent, which purifies men, animals, and plants by burning up and consuming the noxious elements, whether material or spiritual, which menace all living things with disease and death.

So far, we have looked at the idea that the fire at the European festivals is lit as a charm to ensure a good supply of sunshine for people, animals, crops, and fruits. Now, we need to explore the arguments against this idea and support the perspective that in these rituals, fire is used not to create but to cleanse, purifying people, animals, and plants by burning away the harmful elements, whether physical or spiritual, that threaten all living beings with sickness and death.

People who light the fires often claim they have a purifying or destructive effect. The main issue that the fire at the festivals aims to combat seems to be witchcraft.

First, then, it is to be observed that the people who practise the fire-customs appear never to allege the solar theory in explanation of them, while on the contrary they do frequently and emphatically put forward the purificatory theory. This is a strong argument in favour of the purificatory and against the solar theory; for the popular explanation of a popular custom is never to be rejected except for grave cause. And in the present case there seems to be no adequate reason for rejecting it. The conception of fire as a destructive agent, which can be turned to account for the consumption of evil things, is so simple and obvious that it could hardly escape the minds even of the rude peasantry with whom these festivals originated. On the other hand the conception of fire as an emanation of the sun, or at all events as linked to it by a bond of physical sympathy, is far less simple and obvious; and though the [pg 342] use of fire as a charm to produce sunshine appears to be undeniable,857 nevertheless in attempting to explain popular customs we should never have recourse to a more recondite idea when a simpler one lies to hand and is supported by the explicit testimony of the people themselves. Now in the case of the fire-festivals the destructive aspect of fire is one upon which the people dwell again and again; and it is highly significant that the great evil against which the fire is directed appears to be witchcraft. Again and again we are told that the fires are intended to burn or repel the witches;858 and the intention is sometimes graphically expressed by burning an effigy of a witch in the fire.859 Hence, when we remember the great hold which the dread of witchcraft has had on the popular European mind in all ages, we may suspect that the primary intention of all these fire-festivals was simply to destroy or at all events get rid of the witches, who were regarded as the causes of nearly all the misfortunes and calamities that befall men, their cattle, and their crops.860

First, it should be noted that the people who practice the fire customs never seem to mention the solar theory to explain them. Instead, they often and strongly promote the purificatory theory. This strongly supports the purificatory viewpoint and challenges the solar theory because we usually don't dismiss the popular explanation of a custom without good reason. In this case, there doesn't seem to be a valid reason for dismissal. The idea of fire as a destructive force that can be used to eliminate evil is so simple and clear that it would be hard for even the most unrefined peasants, who started these festivals, to overlook it. Meanwhile, the idea of fire as something linked to the sun, or as a recreation of sunlight, is much less straightforward; and while using fire as a charm to generate sunshine is undeniable, we should avoid turning to a more complex explanation when a simpler one is available and directly supported by the people's own accounts. In the context of the fire festivals, the destructive nature of fire is something the people emphasize repeatedly, and it's very telling that the main evil they aim to combat seems to be witchcraft. Time and again, we hear that the fires are meant to burn or ward off witches, and this intention is sometimes vividly illustrated by burning a witch effigy in the fire. Therefore, when considering the deep fear of witchcraft that has affected popular European thought throughout history, we can suspect that the primary goal of these fire festivals was simply to destroy, or at least eliminate, the witches, who were seen as the sources of nearly all the misfortunes and disasters that afflict people, their animals, and their crops.

[pg 343]

Among the problems that fire festivals are believed to solve, the most important is cattle disease, which is often thought to be caused by witchcraft.

This suspicion is confirmed when we examine the evils for which the bonfires and torches were supposed to provide a remedy. Foremost, perhaps, among these evils we may reckon the diseases of cattle; and of all the ills that witches are believed to work there is probably none which is so constantly insisted on as the harm they do to the herds, particularly by stealing the milk from the cows.861 Now it is significant that the need-fire, which may perhaps be regarded as the parent of the periodic fire-festivals, is kindled above all as a remedy for a murrain or other disease of cattle; and the circumstance suggests, what on general grounds seems probable, that the custom of kindling the need-fire goes back to a time when the ancestors of the European peoples subsisted chiefly on the products of their herds, and when agriculture as yet played a subordinate part in their lives. Witches and wolves are the two great foes still dreaded by the herdsman in many parts of Europe;862 and we need not wonder that he should resort to fire as a powerful means of [pg 344] banning them both. Among Slavonic peoples it appears that the foes whom the need-fire is designed to combat are not so much living witches as vampyres and other evil spirits,863 and the ceremony, as we saw, aims rather at repelling these baleful beings than at actually consuming them in the flames. But for our present purpose these distinctions are immaterial. The important thing to observe is that among the Slavs the need-fire, which is probably the original of all the ceremonial fires now under consideration, is not a sun-charm, but clearly and unmistakably nothing but a means of protecting man and beast against the attacks of maleficent creatures, whom the peasant thinks to burn or scare by the heat of the fire, just as he might burn or scare wild animals.

This suspicion is confirmed when we look at the problems that bonfires and torches were meant to fix. First and foremost among these issues is the diseases affecting cattle; and of all the harms that witches are believed to cause, none is mentioned more often than the damage they do to herds, especially by stealing milk from cows.861 It's noteworthy that the need-fire, which can be seen as the origin of the periodic fire festivals, is primarily lit as a remedy for murrain or other cattle diseases; this suggests, as seems likely, that the practice of lighting the need-fire dates back to a time when the ancestors of the European peoples lived mostly off their herds, with agriculture playing a lesser role in their lives. Witches and wolves remain the two main threats still feared by herdsmen in many parts of Europe; 862 and it’s no surprise that they would use fire as a strong method of driving them away. Among Slavic peoples, it seems that the enemies the need-fire is meant to combat are not so much actual witches but vampires and other evil spirits.863 The ceremony, as we've seen, is more about repelling these harmful beings than about burning them in flames. However, for our current discussion, these distinctions don’t matter. What’s important to note is that among the Slavs, the need-fire, which likely is the original of all the ceremonial fires we’re looking at, is not a sun-charm, but clearly and distinctly a way to protect people and animals from attacks by malevolent creatures, whom the peasant believes he can scare or burn away with the heat of the fire, just like he would with wild animals.

Once again, the bonfires are believed to ward off hail, thunder, lightning, and other bad occurrences, all of which are blamed on the harmful practices of witches.

Again, the bonfires are often supposed to protect the fields against hail864 and the homestead against thunder and lightning.865 But both hail and thunderstorms are frequently thought to be caused by witches;866 hence the fire which bans the witches necessarily serves at the same time as a talisman against hail, thunder, and lightning. Further, brands taken from the bonfires are commonly kept in the houses to guard them against conflagration;867 and though this may perhaps be done on the principle of homoeopathic magic, one fire being thought to act as a preventive of another, it is also possible that the intention may be to keep witch-incendiaries at bay. Again, people leap over the bonfires as a preventive of colic,868 and look at the flames steadily in order to preserve their eyes in good health;869 and both colic and sore eyes are in Germany, and probably elsewhere, set down to the machinations of witches.870 Once more, to leap over the Midsummer fires or [pg 345] to circumambulate them is thought to prevent a person from feeling pains in his back at reaping;871 and in Germany such pains are called “witch-shots” and ascribed to witchcraft.872

Again, the bonfires are often believed to protect the fields from hail and the home from thunder and lightning. But both hail and thunderstorms are frequently thought to be caused by witches; therefore, the fire that drives away the witches also serves as a talisman against hail, thunder, and lightning. Additionally, brands taken from the bonfires are commonly kept in houses to protect them from fire, and while this might be based on the principle of homoeopathic magic—thinking one fire can prevent another—it may also aim to fend off witch arsonists. People also jump over the bonfires to prevent colic and stare into the flames to keep their eyes healthy; in Germany, and likely elsewhere, both colic and sore eyes are attributed to witchcraft. Furthermore, jumping over or walking around the Midsummer fires is thought to prevent back pain during harvest, which in Germany is referred to as “witch-shots” and attributed to witchcraft.

The flaming wheels rolled down the hills, and the fiery discs and brooms thrown into the air might be meant to catch the invisible witches.

But if the bonfires and torches of the fire-festivals are to be regarded primarily as weapons directed against witches and wizards, it becomes probable that the same explanation applies not only to the flaming discs which are hurled into the air, but also to the burning wheels which are rolled down hill on these occasions; discs and wheels, we may suppose, are alike intended to burn the witches who hover invisible in the air or haunt unseen the fields, the orchards, and the vineyards on the hillside.873 Certainly witches are constantly thought to ride through the air on broomsticks or other equally convenient vehicles; and if they do so, how can you get at them so effectually as by hurling lighted missiles, whether discs, torches, or besoms, after them as they flit past overhead in the gloom? The South Slavonian peasant believes that witches ride in the dark hail-clouds; so he shoots at the clouds to bring down the hags, while he curses them, saying, “Curse, curse Herodias, thy mother is a heathen, damned of God and fettered through the Redeemer's blood.” Also he brings out a pot of glowing charcoal on which he has thrown holy oil, laurel leaves, and wormwood to make a smoke. The fumes are supposed to ascend to the clouds and stupefy the witches, so that they tumble down to earth. And in order that they may not fall soft, but may hurt themselves very much, the yokel hastily brings out a chair and tilts it bottom up so that the witch in falling may break her legs on the legs of the chair. Worse than that, he cruelly lays scythes, bill-hooks and other formidable weapons edge upwards so as to cut and mangle [pg 346] the poor wretches when they drop plump upon them from the clouds.874

But if the bonfires and torches at the fire festivals are mainly seen as weapons against witches and wizards, it's likely that the same reasoning applies not just to the flaming discs thrown into the air, but also to the burning wheels rolled downhill during these events; we can assume that both discs and wheels are meant to burn the witches who are invisibly floating in the air or haunting the fields, orchards, and vineyards on the hillsides. Certainly, witches are often believed to fly through the air on broomsticks or other similar vehicles; and if that’s the case, what better way to get to them than by throwing lit projectiles, whether they’re discs, torches, or brooms, at them as they zip by overhead in the darkness? The South Slavonian farmer believes that witches ride on dark hail clouds; so he shoots at the clouds to bring down the witches while cursing them, saying, "Curse you, Herodias; your mother is a pagan, condemned by God and tied to the Redeemer's blood." He also sets out a pot of glowing charcoal and throws in holy oil, laurel leaves, and wormwood to create smoke. The smoke is supposed to rise to the clouds and stun the witches, causing them to fall to the ground. To ensure they don’t land softly but rather hurt themselves badly, the peasant quickly sets up a chair upside down so that a witch can break her legs on its legs when she falls. Even worse, he sometimes cruelly places scythes, sickles, and other sharp tools with the blades facing up to cut and harm [pg 346] the unfortunate beings when they drop straight down from the clouds.

According to this perspective, the fertility that is believed to come from using fire is actually a result of breaking witches' spells indirectly.

On this view the fertility supposed to follow the application of fire in the form of bonfires, torches, discs, rolling wheels, and so forth, is not conceived as resulting directly from an increase of solar heat which the fire has magically generated; it is merely an indirect result obtained by freeing the reproductive powers of plants and animals from the fatal obstruction of witchcraft. And what is true of the reproduction of plants and animals may hold good also of the fertility of the human sexes. We have seen that the bonfires are supposed to promote marriage and to procure offspring for childless couples. This happy effect need not flow directly from any quickening or fertilizing energy in the fire; it may follow indirectly from the power of the fire to remove those obstacles which the spells of witches and wizards notoriously present to the union of man and wife.875

On this perspective, the fertility that is believed to come from using fire in the form of bonfires, torches, discs, rolling wheels, and so on, isn't thought to arise directly from an increase in solar heat magically created by the fire. Instead, it's simply an indirect outcome achieved by releasing the reproductive abilities of plants and animals from the harmful effects of witchcraft. The same can be said for the fertility of humans. We've noted that bonfires are thought to encourage marriage and help childless couples have children. This positive result doesn't necessarily have to come directly from any energizing or fertilizing effect of the fire; it could occur indirectly due to the fire's ability to eliminate the barriers that witches and wizards typically create to hinder the union of husband and wife.875

Overall, the idea that the fire festivals have a purifying or destructive purpose seems more likely.

On the whole, then, the theory of the purificatory virtue of the ceremonial fires appears more probable and more in accordance with the evidence than the opposing theory of their connexion with the sun. But Europe is not the only part of the world where ceremonies of this sort have been performed; elsewhere the passage through the flames or smoke or over the glowing embers of a bonfire, which is the central feature of most of the rites, has been employed as a cure or a preventive of various ills. We have seen that the midsummer ritual of fire in Morocco is practically identical with that of our European peasantry; and customs more or less similar have been observed by many races in various parts of the world. A consideration of some of them may help us to decide between the conflicting claims of the two rival theories, which explain the ceremonies as sun-charms or purifications respectively.

Overall, the idea that ceremonial fires have a purifying effect seems more likely and aligns better with the evidence than the theory linking them to the sun. However, Europe isn't the only place where these types of ceremonies have taken place; in other regions, passing through flames, smoke, or over the hot embers of a bonfire—central to most of these rituals—has been used as a cure or a way to prevent various ailments. We've noted that the midsummer fire ritual in Morocco is almost the same as that of European peasants, and similar customs have been observed among many cultures in different parts of the world. Examining some of these may help us choose between the two competing theories, which interpret the ceremonies as either sun charms or purifications.


References

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2.
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3.
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4.
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7.
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9.
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11.
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12.
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A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Across Borneo (Leyden, 1904-1907), i. 172.
14.
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15.
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16.
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17.
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18.
James Adair, History of Native Americans (London, 1775), p. 382; The Story of John Tanner's Captivity and Adventures (London, 1830), p. 123. As to the taboos to which warriors are subject see Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, pp. 157 sqq.
19.
Etienne Aymonier, Notes on Laos (Saigon, 1885), p. 26.
20.
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22.
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23.
George Brown, D.D., Melanesians and Polynesians (London, 1910), pp. 60 sq., 64. As to the Duk-duk society, see below, vol. ii. pp. 246 sq.
24.
John Keast Lord, The Naturalist in Vancouver Island and British Columbia (London, 1866), ii. 237.
25.
Edwin James, Report on a Trip from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains (London, 1823), ii. 47; Rev. J. Owen Dorsey, "Omaha Sociology," Third Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (Washington, 1884), p. 226.
26.
James Adair, History of Native Americans (London, 1775), pp. 161-163.
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(Sir) Henry Babington Smith, in Folklore, v. (1894) p. 340.
28.
Miss C. F. Gordon Cumming, *In the Hebrides* (London, 1883), p. 211.
29.
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30.
R. Brough Smyth, Victorian Aborigines (Melbourne and London, 1878), i. 450.
31.
E. Gerard, *The Land Beyond the Forest* (Edinburgh and London, 1888), ii. 7.
32.
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33.
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34.
See Taboo and Dangers of the Soul, pp. 207 sqq.
35.
Walter E. Roth, Ethnological Studies among the Indigenous Peoples of North-West-Central Queensland (Brisbane and London, 1897), p. 156, § 265. The custom of killing a man by pointing a bone or stick at him, while the sorcerer utters appropriate curses, is common among the tribes of Central Australia; but amongst them there seems to be no objection to place the bone or stick on the ground; on the contrary, an Arunta wizard inserts the bone or stick in the ground while he invokes death and destruction on his enemy. See Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, Indigenous Tribes of Central Australia (London, 1899), pp. 534 sqq.; id., *Northern Tribes of Central Australia* (London, 1904), pp. 455 sqq.
36.
Hugh Low, Sarawak (London, 1848), pp. 145 sq.
37.
Pliny, Natural History, xxviii. 33 sq.
38.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folk-lore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 184. As to the superstitions attaching to stone arrow-heads and axeheads (celts), commonly known as "thunderbolts" in the British Islands, see W. W. Skeat, “Snake stones and stone thunderbolts,” Folklore, xxiii. (1912) pp. 60 ; and as to such superstitions in general, see Chr. Blinkenberg, The Thunderweapon in Religion and Folklore (Cambridge, 1911).
39.
Pliny, Natural History, xxix. 52-54.
40.
W. Borlase, Ancient Artifacts, Historic Sites, and Monuments of Cornwall County (London, 1769), pp. 142 sq.; J. Brand, Famous Historical Artifacts of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 322; J. G. Dalyell, Dark Superstitions of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1834), pp. 140 sq.; Daniel Wilson, The Archaeology and Prehistoric History of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1851), pp. 303 sqq.; Lieut.-Col. Forbes Leslie, The Early Races of Scotland and Their Monuments (Edinburgh, 1866), i. 75 sqq.; J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 84-88; Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Folktales (London, 1909), pp. 170 sq.; J. C. Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 76. Compare W. W. Skeat, “Snake stones and stone thunderbolts,” Folklore, xxiii. (1912) pp. 45 sqq. The superstition is described as follows by Edward Lhwyd in a letter quoted by W. Borlase (op. cit. p. 142): In most parts of Wales, throughout all of Scotland, and in Cornwall, people commonly believe that around Midsummer-Eve (although they don’t all agree on the exact timing), snakes gather in groups. They say that by joining their heads together and hissing, they create a kind of bubble, which the other snakes blow on continually until it passes completely through their bodies. It then hardens instantly and looks like a glass ring. Those who find these rings (as some old women and children believe) will succeed in all their endeavors. The rings made this way are known as Gleineu Nadroeth, or Snake-stones in English. They are small glass amulets, usually about half the width of our finger rings but much thicker, typically green in color, though sometimes blue, and often have red and white patterns.
41.
Pliny, Natural History, xxiv. 12 and 68, xxv. 171.
42.
Marcellus, On Medicines, ed. G. Helmreich (Leipsic, 1889), preface, p. i.: “I not only examined ancient authors of the medical art written in Latin ... through careful reading, but I also learned about casual and simple remedies from common people and country folk, which they had proven through experience.” As to Marcellus and his work, see Jacob Grimm, “About Marcellus of Bordeaux,” Proceedings of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin, 1847, pp. 429-460; same., "About the Marcellus Formulas," same source, 1855, pp. 50-68.
43.
Marcellus, On Medicines, i. 68.
44.
Marcellus, op. cit. i. 76.
45.
Marcellus, op. cit. xxviii. 28 and 71, xxix. 35.
46.
Marcellus, op. cit. xxix. 51.
47.
Edward Westermarck, "Midsummer Traditions in Morocco," Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 32 sq.; id., Rituals and Beliefs related to Agriculture, specific Dates of the Solar Year, and the Weather in Morocco (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 75 sq.
48.
E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) p. 35; ibid., Ceremonies and beliefs related to agriculture, specific dates in the solar year, and the weather in Morocco (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 88 sq.
49.
Matthäus Prätorius, Prussian Delights, herausgegeben von Dr. W. Pierson (Berlin, 1871), p. 54.
50.
H. H. Bancroft, Indigenous Peoples of the Pacific States (London, 1875-1876), ii. 142; Brasseur de Bourbourg, History of the Civilized Nations of Mexico and Central America (Paris, 1857-1859), iii. 29.
51.
Kaempfer, "History of Japan" in J. Pinkerton's Journeys and Travels, vii. 717; Caron, “Japan Report,” ibid. vii. 613; B. Varenius, Description of the Kingdoms of Japan and Siam (Cambridge, 1673), p. 11: The rays of the sun never illuminated the head: it did not move into the open air.
52.
A. de Herrera, General History of the vast continent and islands of America, trans. by Capt. John Stevens (London, 1725-1726), v. 88.
53.
H. Ternaux-Compans, Essay on Ancient Cundinamarca (Paris, n.d.), p. 56; Theodor Waitz, Anthropology of Indigenous Peoples, iv. (Leipsic, 1864) p. 359.
54.
Alonzo de Zurita, "Report on the different classes of leaders in New Spain," p. 30, in H. Ternaux-Compans's Journeys, Accounts, and Original Memories to Contribute to the History of the Discovery of America (Paris, 1840); Th. Waitz, l.c.; A. Bastian, The cultural countries of ancient America (Berlin, 1878), ii. 204.
55.
Cieza de Leon, Second Part of the Chronicle of Peru (Hakluyt Society, London, 1883), p. 18.
56.
The Grihya Sûtras, translated by H. Oldenberg, Part ii. (Oxford, 1892) pp. 165, 275 (Holy Books of the East, vol. xxx.). Umbrellas appear to have been sometimes used in ritual for the purpose of preventing the sunlight from falling on sacred persons or things. See W. Caland, Indian Magic Ritual (Amsterdam, 1900), p. 110 note 12. At an Athenian festival called Scira the priestess of Athena, the priest of Poseidon, and the priest of the Sun walked from the Acropolis under the shade of a huge white umbrella which was borne over their heads by the Eteobutads. See Harpocration and Suidas, s.v. Σκίρον; Scholiast on Aristophanes, Eccles. 18.
57.
Mrs. Bishop, Korea and its Neighbors (London, 1898), ii. 248.
58.
J. L. van Hasselt, "Some notes about the inhabitants of the N. West Coast of New Guinea," Journal of Indian Language, Geography, and Ethnology, xxxi. (1886) p. 587.
59.
A. Bastian, The peoples of Eastern Asia, v. (Jena, 1869) p. 366.
60.
W. M. Gabb, "About the Indian Tribes and Languages of Costa Rica," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia, xiv. (Philadelphia, 1876), p. 510.
61.
L. Lloyd, Life of Farmers in Sweden (London, 1870), p. 194.
62.
H. H. Bancroft, Indigenous Peoples of the Pacific States, i. 553. See Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, p. 182.
63.
L. Heuzey, Mount Olympus and Acarnania (Paris, 1860), pp. 458 sq.
64.
Pechuel-Loesche, “Indiscretes from Loango,” Journal of Ethnology, x. (1878) p. 23.
65.
Rev. J. Macdonald, “Manners, Customs, Superstitions, and Religions of South African Tribes,” Anthropological Institute Journal, xx. (1891) p. 118.
66.
Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir (London, 1904), p. 209. The prohibition to drink milk under such circumstances is also mentioned, though without the reason for it, by L. Alberti (The Kaffirs on the South Coast of Africa, Amsterdam, 1810, p. 79), George Thompson (Traveling and Adventures in Southern Africa, London, 1827, ii. 354 sq.), and Mr. Warner (in Col. Maclean's Collection of Kafir Laws and Customs, Cape Town, 1866, p. 98). As to the reason for the prohibition, see below, p. 80.
67.
C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of the A-Kamba and other East African Tribes (Cambridge, 1910), p. 65.
68.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), p. 80. As to the interpretation which the Baganda put on the act of jumping or stepping over a woman, see id., pp. 48, 357 note 1. Apparently some of the Lower Congo people interpret the act similarly. See J. H. Weeks, "Notes on Certain Customs of the Lower Congo People," Folklore, xix. (1908) p. 431. Among the Baganda the separation of children from their parents took place after weaning; girls usually went to live either with an elder married brother or (if there was none such) with one of their father's brothers; boys in like manner went to live with one of their father's brothers. See J. Roscoe, op. cit. p. 74. As to the prohibition to touch food with the hands, see Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, pp. 138 sqq., 146 sqq., etc.
69.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda, p. 80.
70.
De la Loubère, From the Kingdom of Siam (Amsterdam, 1691), i. 203. In Travancore it is believed that women at puberty and after childbirth are peculiarly liable to be attacked by demons. See S. Mateer, *The Land of Kindness* (London, 1871), p. 208.
71.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda, p. 80.
72.
C. Gouldsbury and H. Sheane, The Great Plateau of Northern Nigeria (London, 1911), pp. 158-160.
73.
R. Sutherland Rattray, Some Folklore Stories and Songs in Chinyanja (London, 1907), pp. 102-105.
74.
Rev. H. Cole, “Notes on the Wagogo of German East Africa,” *Journal of the Anthropological Institute*, xxxii. (1902) pp. 309 sq.
75.
R. Sutherland Rattray, op. cit. pp. 191 sq.
76.
The Grihya Sutras, translated by H. Oldenberg, Part i. p. 357, Part ii. p. 267 (Holy Books of the East, vols. xxix., xxx.).
77.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), pp. 393 sq., compare pp. 396, 398.
78.
See Totemism and Exogamy, iv. 224 sqq.
79.
Sir Harry H. Johnston, Central Africa (London, 1897), p. 411.
80.
Oscar Baumann, Through Maasai Land to the Nile Source (Berlin, 1894), p. 178.
81.
Lionel Decle, Three Years in Wild Africa (London, 1898), p. 78. Compare E. Jacottet, Studies on the Languages of Upper Zambezi, Troisième Partie (Paris, 1901), pp. 174 sq. (as to the A-Louyi).
82.
E. Béguin, Les Ma-rotsé (Lausanne and Fontaines, 1903), p. 113.
83.
Henri A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe (Neuchatel, 1912-1913), i. 178 sq.
84.
G. McCall Theal, Kaffir Folklore (London, 1886), p. 218.
85.
L. Alberti, The Kaffirs on the South Coast of Africa (Amsterdam, 1810), pp. 79 sq.; H. Lichtenstein, Traveling in Southern Africa (Berlin, 1811-1812), i. 428.
86.
Gustav Fritsch, The Natives of South Africa (Breslau, 1872), p. 112. This statement applies especially to the Ama-Xosa.
87.
G. McCall Theal, Kaffir Folklore, p. 218.
88.
Rev. Canon Henry Callaway, Nursery Tales, Traditions, and Histories of the Zulus (Natal and London, 1868), p. 182, note 20. From one of the Zulu texts which the author edits and translates (p. 189) we may infer that during the period of her seclusion a Zulu girl may not light a fire. Compare above, p. 28.
89.
E. Casalis, The Basotho (London, 1861), p. 268.
90.
J. Merolla, “Trip to Congo,” in J. Pinkerton's Trips and Adventures (London, 1808-1814), xvi. 238; Father Campana, "Congo; Catholic Mission of Landana," Catholic Missions, xxvii. (1895) p. 161; R. E. Dennett, In the Depths of the Black Man's Mind (London, 1906), pp. 69 sq. According to Merolla, it is thought that if girls did not go through these ceremonies, they would "never be suitable for reproduction." The other consequences supposed to flow from the omission of the rites are mentioned by Father Campana. From Mr. Dennett's account (op. cit. pp. 53, 67-71) we gather that drought and famine are thought to result from the intercourse of a man with a girl who has not yet passed through the “paint house” as the hut is called where the young women live in seclusion. According to O. Dapper, the women of Loango paint themselves red on every recurrence of their monthly sickness; also they tie a cord tightly round their heads and take care neither to touch their husband's food nor to appear before him (Description of Africa, Amsterdam, 1686, p. 326).
91.
The Rev. G. Brown, quoted by the Rev. B. Danks, "Marriage Customs of the New Britain Group," Journal of Anthropology, xviii. (1889) pp. 284 sq.; id., Melanesians and Polynesians (London, 1910), pp. 105-107. Compare id., "Notes on the Duke of York Group, New Britain, and New Ireland," Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, xlvii. (1877) pp. 142 sq.; A. Hahl, “Central Neumecklenburg,” Globe, xci. (1907) p. 313. Wilfred Powell's description of the New Ireland custom is similar (Adventures in the Wilderness, London, 1883, p. 249). According to him, the girls wear wreaths of scented herbs round the waist and neck; an old woman or a little child occupies the lower floor of the cage; and the confinement lasts only a month. Probably the long period mentioned by Dr. Brown is that prescribed for chiefs' daughters. Poor people could not afford to keep their children so long idle. This distinction is sometimes expressly stated. See above, p. 30. Among the Goajiras of Colombia rich people keep their daughters shut up in separate huts at puberty for periods varying from one to four years, but poor people cannot afford to do so for more than a fortnight or a month. See F. A. Simons, "An Exploration of the Goajira Peninsula," Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society, N.S., vii. (1885) p. 791. In Fiji, brides who were being tattooed were kept from the sun (Thomas Williams, *Fiji and the Fijians*, Second Edition, London, 1860, i. 170). This was perhaps a modification of the Melanesian custom of secluding girls at puberty. The reason mentioned by Mr. Williams, “to enhance her skin,” can hardly have been the original one.
92.
Rev. R. H. Rickard, quoted by Dr. George Brown, Melanesians and Polynesians, pp. 107 sq. His observations were made in 1892.
93.
R. Parkinson, Thirty Years in the South Sea (Stuttgart, 1907), p. 272. The natives told Mr. Parkinson that the confinement of the girls lasts from twelve to twenty months. The length of it may have been reduced since Dr. George Brown described the custom in 1876.
94.
J. Chalmers and W. Wyatt Gill, Work and Adventure in New Guinea (London, 1885), p. 159.
95.
H. Zahn and S. Lehner, in R. Neuhauss's German New Guinea (Berlin, 1911), iii. 298, 418-420. The customs of the two tribes seem to be in substantial agreement, and the accounts of them supplement each other. The description of the Bukaua practice is the fuller.
96.
C. A. L. M. Schwaner, Borneo, Description of the Barito River Basin (Amsterdam, 1853-1854), ii. 77 sq.; W. F. A. Zimmermann, The islands of the Indian and Pacific Oceans (Berlin, 1864-1865), ii. 632 sq.; Otto Finsch, New Guinea and its inhabitants (Bremen, 1865), pp. 116 sq.
97.
J. G. F. Riedel, The curly and frizzy-haired breeds between Sulawesi and Papua (The Hague, 1886), p. 138.
98.
A. Senfft, "Ethnographic Contributions about the Caroline Islands Yap," Petermann's Messages, xlix. (1903) p. 53; same., “Legal customs of Japanese natives,” Globe, xci. (1907) pp. 142 sq.
99.
Dr. C. G. Seligmann, in Journal of Anthropology, xxix. (1899) pp. 212 sq.; id., in Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 203 sq.
100.
Dr. C. G. Seligmann, in Reports from the Cambridge Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904) p. 205.
101.
L. Crauford, in Anthropological Institute Journal, xxiv. (1895) p. 181.
102.
Dr. C. G. Seligmann, op. cit. v. 206.
103.
Walter E. Roth, North Queensland Ethnography, Bulletin No. 5, Superstition, Magic, and Medicine (Brisbane, 1903), pp. 24 sq.
104.
Walter E. Roth, op. cit. p. 25.
105.
Dr. C. G. Seligmann, in Reports from the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904), p. 205.
106.
From notes kindly sent me by Dr. C. G. Seligmann. The practice of burying a girl at puberty was observed also by some Indian tribes of California, but apparently rather for the purpose of producing a sweat than for the sake of concealment. The treatment lasted only twenty-four hours, during which the patient was removed from the ground and washed three or four times, to be afterwards reimbedded. Dancing was kept up the whole time by the women. See H. R. Schoolcraft, American Indian Tribes (Philadelphia, 1853-1856), v. 215.
107.
Dr. C. G. Seligmann, in Reports from the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, v. 201 sq.
108.
A. L. Kroeber, "The Religion of the Native Americans in California," University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, vol. iv. No. 6 (September, 1907), p. 324.
109.
Roland B. Dixon, "The Northern Maidu Tribe," Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History, vol. xvii. Part iii. (May, 1905) pp. 232 sq., compare pp. 233-238.
110.
Stephen Powers, California Tribes (Washington, 1877), p. 85 (Contributions to North American Ethnology, vol. iii.).
111.
Stephen Powers, op. cit. p. 235.
112.
Charles Wilkes, Story of the United States Exploring Expedition, New Edition (New York, 1851), iv. 456.
113.
Franz Boas, Chinook Texts (Washington, 1894), pp. 246 sq. The account, taken down from the lips of a Chinook Indian, is not perfectly clear; some of the restrictions were prolonged after the girl's second monthly period.
114.
G. M. Sproat, Scenes and Studies of Wild Life (London, 1868), pp. 93 sq.
115.
Franz Boas, in Sixth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada, pp. 40-42 (separate reprint from the Report by the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Leeds meeting, 1890). The rule not to lie down is observed also during their seclusion at puberty by Tsimshian girls, who always sit propped up between boxes and mats; their heads are covered with small mats, and they may not look at men nor at fresh salmon and olachen. See Franz Boas, in Fifth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada, p. 41 (separate reprint from the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Newcastle-upon-Tyne meeting, 1889); G. M. Dawson, Report on the Haida Gwaii, 1878 (Montreal, 1880), pp. 130 b sq. Some divine kings are not allowed to lie down. See Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, p. 5.
116.
George M. Dawson, Report on the Queen Charlotte Islands, 1878 (Montreal, 1880), p. 130 b; J. R. Swanton, Contributions to the Ethnology of the Haida (Leyden and New York, 1905), pp. 48-50 (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York). Speaking of the customs observed at Kloo, where the girls had to abstain from salmon for five years, Mr. Swanton says (p. 49): "After five years had gone by, the girl came out and was free to do whatever she wanted." This seems to imply that the girl was secluded in the house for five years. We have seen (above, p. 32) that in New Ireland the girls used sometimes to be secluded for the same period.
117.
G. H. von Langsdorff, World Tour (Frankfort, 1812), ii. 114 sq.; H. J. Holmberg, "Ethnographic Sketches on the Peoples of Russian America," Journal of the Finnish Society of Sciences, iv. (Helsingfors, 1856) pp. 319 sq.; T. de Pauly, *Description Ethnographique des Peuples de la Russie* (St. Petersburg, 1862), Peoples of Russian America, p. 13; A. Erman, "Ethnographic perceptions and experiences along the shores of the Bering Sea," Journal of Ethnology, ii. (1870) pp. 318 sq.; H. H. Bancroft, Indigenous Peoples of the Pacific States (London, 1875-1876), i. 110 sq.; Rev. Sheldon Jackson, "Alaska and its People," The American Antiquarian, ii. (Chicago, 1879-1880) pp. 111 sq.; A. Woldt, Captain Jacobsen's Journey along the Northwestern Coast of America, 1881-1883 (Leipsic, 1884), p. 393; Aurel Krause, The Tlingit Indians (Jena, 1885), pp. 217 sq.; W. M. Grant, in Journal of American Folklore, i. (1888) p. 169; John R. Swanton, "Social Conditions, Beliefs, and Linguistic Relationship of the Tlingit Indians," 26th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology (Washington, 1908), p. 428.
118.
Franz Boas, in Tenth Report of the Committee on the North-Western Tribes of Canada, p. 45 (separate reprint from the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Ipswich meeting, 1895).
119.
Franz Boas, in Fifth Report of the Committee on the North-Western Tribes of Canada, p. 42 (separate reprint from the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Newcastle-upon-Tyne meeting, 1889); ibid., in *Seventh Report*, etc., p. 12 (separate reprint from the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Cardiff meeting, 1891).
120.
"Traditions of the New Caledonian women from the Nancaushy Tine, or Stuart's Lake Indians, Natotin Tine, or Babine's, and Nantley Tine, or Fraser Lake Tribes," from information supplied by Gavin Hamilton, chief factor of the Hudson's Bay Company's service, who has been for many years among these Indians, both he and his wife speaking their languages fluently (communicated by Dr. John Rae), *Journal of the Anthropological Institute*, vii. (1878) pp. 206 sq.
121.
Émile Petitot, Indian Traditions of Northwest Canada (Paris, 1886), pp. 257 sq.
122.
Fr. Julius Jetté, S.J., "On the Superstitions of the Ten'a Indians," Anthropos, vi. (1911) pp. 700-702.
123.
Compare The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, i. 70 sqq.
124.
James Teit, The Thompson First Nations of British Columbia, pp. 311-317 (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, April, 1900). As to the customs observed among these Indians by the father of a girl at such times in order not to lose his luck in hunting, see Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild, ii. 268.
125.
James Teit, The Lillooet Tribe (Leyden and New York, 1906), pp. 263-265 (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York). Compare C. Hill Tout, "Report on the Ethnology of the Stlatlumh of British Columbia," Anthropological Institute Journal, xxxv. (1905) p. 136.
126.
Franz Boas, in Sixth Report of the Committee on the North-Western Tribes of Canada, pp. 89 sq. (separate reprint from the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Leeds meeting, 1890).
127.
James Teit, The Shuswap (Leyden and New York, 1909), pp. 587 sq. (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York).
128.
G. H. Loskiel, History of the Mission of the United Brethren to the Indigenous Peoples of North America (London, 1794), Part i. pp. 56 sq.
129.
G. B. Grinnell, "Cheyenne Women’s Traditions," American Anthropologist, New Series, iv. (New York, 1902) pp. 13 sq. The Cheyennes appear to have been at first settled on the Mississippi, from which they were driven westward to the Missouri. See Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico, edited by F. W. Hodge (Washington, 1907-1910), i. 250 sqq.
130.
H. J. Holmberg, "About the Peoples of Russian America," Finnish Academy of Science Act, iv. (Helsingfors, 1856) pp. 401 sq.; Ivan Petroff, Report on the Population, Industries, and Resources of Alaska, p. 143.
131.
E. W. Nelson, “The Inuit about Bering Strait,” 18th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1899) p. 291.
132.
Jose Guevara, "History of Paraguay, Rio de la Plata, and Tucuman," pp. 16 sq., in Pedro de Angelis, Collection of Works and Documents Related to the Ancient and Modern History of the Provinces of the Río de la Plata, vol. ii. (Buenos-Ayres, 1836); J. F. Lafitau, Customs of Native Americans (Paris, 1724), i. 262 squared
133.
Father Ignace Chomé, in Edifying and Curious Letters, Nouvelle Édition (Paris, 1780-1783), viii. 333. As to the Chiriguanos, see C. F. Phil. von Martius, On the Ethnography of America, especially Brazil (Leipsic, 1867), pp. 212 sqq.; Colonel G. E. Church, South American Indigenous peoples (London, 1912), pp. 207-227.
134.
A. Thouar, Explorations in South America (Paris, 1891), pp. 48 sq.; G. Kurze, “Customs and Traditions of the Lengua Indians,” Reports of the Geographical Society of Jena, xxiii. (1905) pp. 26 sq. The two accounts appear to be identical; but the former attributes the custom to the Chiriguanos, the latter to the Lenguas. As the latter account is based on the reports of the Rev. W. B. Grubb, a missionary who has been settled among the Indians of the Chaco for many years and is our principal authority on them, I assume that the ascription of the custom to the Lenguas is correct. However, in the volume on the Lengua Indians, which has been edited from Mr. Grubb's papers (A Mysterious Group in a Mysterious Place, London, 1911), these details as to the seclusion of girls at puberty are not mentioned, though what seems to be the final ceremony is described (op. cit. pp. 177 sq.). From the description we learn that boys dressed in ostrich feathers and wearing masks circle round the girl with shrill cries, but are repelled by the women.
135.
Alcide d'Orbigny, Journey through South America, vol. iii. 1re Partie (Paris and Strasburg, 1844), pp. 205 sq.
136.
A. Thouar, Explorations in South America (Paris, 1891) pp. 56 sq.; Father Cardus, quoted in J. Pelleschi's The Matacos Indians (Buenos Ayres, 1897), pp. 47 sq.
137.
A. Thouar, op. cit. p. 63.
138.
Francis de Castelnau, Expedition to the central regions of South America (Paris, 1850-1851), v. 25.
139.
D. Luis de la Cruz, "Description of the Nature of the Lands found in the Andes, owned by the Peguenches and the other areas up to the Chadileuba River," p. 62, in Pedro de Angelis, Collection of Works and Documents Related to the Ancient and Modern History of the Provinces of the Rio de la Plata, vol. i. (Buenos-Ayres, 1836). Apparently the Peguenches are an Indian tribe of Chili.
140.
J. B. von Spix und C. F. Ph. von Martius, Travel in Brazil (Munich, 1823-1831), iii. 1186, 1187, 1318.
141.
André Thevet, Universal Geography (Paris, 1575), ii. 946 b [980] sq.; id., The Singularities of French Antarctica, also known as America (Antwerp, 1558), p. 76; J. F. Lafitau, Customs of Native Americans (Paris, 1724), i. 290 ,
142.
R. Schomburgk, Travel in British Guiana (Leipsic, 1847-1848), ii. 315 sq.; C. F. Ph. von Martius, On the Ethnography of America, especially Brazil (Leipsic, 1867), p. 644.
143.
Labat, Journey of the Knight des Marchais to Guinea, Neighboring Islands, and Cayenne, iv. 365 sq. (Paris, 1730), pp. 17 sq. (Amsterdam, 1731).
144.
A. Caulin, History of the Natural and Evangelical Chorography of New Andalucía (1779), p. 93. A similar custom, with the omission of the stinging, is reported of the Tamanaks in the region of the Orinoco. See F. S. Gilij, American History Essay, ii. (Rome, 1781), p. 133.
145.
A. R. Wallace, Story of Travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro, p. 496 (p. 345 of the Minerva Library edition, London, 1889).
146.
Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, pp. 105 sqq.; *The Scapegoat*, pp. 259 sqq.
147.
J. B. von Spix and C. F. Ph. von Martius, Travel in Brazil (Munich, 1823-1831), iii. 1320.
148.
W. Lewis Herndon, Exploring the Amazon Valley (Washington, 1854), pp. 319 sq. The scene was described to Mr. Herndon by a French engineer and architect, M. de Lincourt, who witnessed it at Manduassu, a village on the Tapajos river. Mr. Herndon adds: "The Tocandeira ants not only bite, but they also have a sting similar to that of a wasp; however, the pain it causes is even more intense. I believe it is comparable to the pain from the sting of a black scorpion." He gives the name of the Indians as Mahues, but I assume that they are the same as the Mauhes described by Spix and Martius.
149.
Francis de Castelnau, Expedition to the central regions of South America (Paris, 1850-1851), v. 46.
150.
L'Abbé Durand, "the Rio Negro in the North and its basin," Bulletin of the Geography Society (Paris), vi. Série, iii. (1872) pp. 21 sq. The writer says that the candidate has to keep his arms plunged up to the shoulders in vessels full of ants, “like being in a bath of vitriol,” for hours. He gives the native name of the ant as issauba.
151.
J. Crevaux, Journeys in South America (Paris, 1883), pp. 245-250.
152.
H. Coudreau, With Our Indians: Four Years in French Guiana (Paris, 1895), p. 228. For details as to the different modes of administering the maraké, see same source pp. 228-235.
153.
Father Geronimo Boscana, “Chinigchinich” in Life in California by an American [A. Robinson] (New York, 1846), pp. 273 sq.
154.
F. Stuhlmann, With Emin Pasha into the Heart of Africa (Berlin, 1894), p. 506.
155.
As a confirmation of this view it may be pointed out that beating or scourging is inflicted on inanimate objects expressly for the purpose indicated in the text. Thus the Indians of Costa Rica hold that there are two kinds of ceremonial uncleanness, nya and bu-ku-rú. Anything that has been connected with a death is nya. But bu-ku-rú is much more virulent. It can not only make one sick but kill. Bu-ku-rú manifests in various ways; items like tools and even houses can be impacted by it after being unused for a long time, and they need to be purified before being used again. For portable objects that haven’t been touched in a while, the custom is to hit them with a stick before handling them. I saw a woman use a long walking stick to strike a basket hanging from the ceiling. When I asked why she did that, she explained that the basket held her valuables, and she would likely want to take something out the next day, so she was warding off the bu-ku-rú. A house that hasn’t been used for a long time needs to be swept, and then the person purifying it should take a stick and strike not only the movable items but also the beds, posts, and essentially every reachable part of the inside. The following day, it is considered ready for living in. A place that hasn’t been visited in a long time or is being approached for the first time is seen as bu-ku-rú. After our hike up Pico Blanco, most of the group experienced slight fevers, likely from being soaked and cold and not having enough food. The locals said the peak was particularly bu-ku-rú, as no one had ever been there before.” One day Mr. Gabb took down some dusty blow-guns amid cries of bu-ku-rú from the Indians. Some weeks afterwards a boy died, and the Indians firmly believed that the bu-ku-rú of the blow-guns had killed him. Based on everything mentioned, it appears that bu-ku-rú is some kind of evil spirit that possesses an object and dislikes being disturbed. However, I've never been able to find out from the Indigenous people if they view it that way. They seem to see it as a condition that the object takes on. The worst type of bu-ku-rú is that of a young woman in her first pregnancy. She affects the whole neighborhood. People leaving her house carry the infection with them, and any deaths or serious misfortunes in the area are attributed to her. In the past, during the time when harsh laws and customs were prevalent, it wasn't uncommon for the husband of such a woman to have to pay compensation for the misfortunes caused by his unfortunate wife. See Wm. M. Gabb, "About the Indian Tribes and Languages of Costa Rica," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia, xiv. (Philadelphia, 1876) pp. 504 sq.
156.
J. Chaffanjon, The Orinoco and the Caura (Paris, 1889), pp. 213-215.
157.
Shib Chunder Bose, The Hindus as they are (London and Calcutta, 1881), p. 86. Similarly, after a Brahman boy has been invested with the sacred thread, he is for three days strictly forbidden to see the sun. He may not eat salt, and he is enjoined to sleep either on a carpet or a deer's skin, without a mattress or mosquito curtain (same source p. 186). In Bali, boys who have had their teeth filed, as a preliminary to marriage, are kept shut up in a dark room for three days (R. Van Eck, "Sketches of the island Bali," Journal of the Dutch East Indies, N.S., ix. (1880) pp. 428 sq.).
158.
(Sir) H. H. Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal, Ethnographic Glossary (Calcutta, 1891-1892), i. 152.
159.
Edgar Thurston, Castes and Tribes of Southern India (Madras, 1909), vii. 63 sq.
160.
Edgar Thurston, op. cit. iii. 218.
161.
Edgar Thurston, op. cit. vi. 157.
162.
S. Mateer, Life in Modern Travancore (London, 1883), p. 45.
163.
Arthur A. Perera, "Insights into Singhalese Social Life," Indian Antiquary, xxxi. (1902) p. 380.
164.
J. Moura, Kingdom of Cambodia (Paris, 1883), i. 377.
165.
Étienne Aymonier, "Notes on the customs and superstitious beliefs of the Cambodians," French Cochinchina: Excursions and Explorations, No. 16 (Saigon, 1883), pp. 193 sq. Compare id., Notice about Cambodia (Paris, 1875), p. 50; id., Notes on Laos (Saigon, 1885), p. 177.
166.
Svend Grundtvig, Danish Folktales, übersetzt von A. Strodtmann, Zweite Sammlung (Leipsic, 1879), pp. 199 sqq.
167.
Christian Schneller, Fairy Tales and Legends from South Tyrol (Innsbruck, 1867), No. 22, pp. 51 sqq.
168.
Bernhard Schmidt, Greek fairy tales, legends, and folk songs (Leipsic, 1877), p. 98.
169.
J. G. von Hahn, Greek and Albanian fairy tales (Leipsic, 1864), No. 41, vol. i. pp. 245 sqq.
170.
Laura Gonzenbach, Sicilian Tales (Leipsic, 1870), No. 28, vol. i. pp. 177 sqq. The incident of the bone occurs in other folk-tales. A prince or princess is shut up for safety in a tower and makes his or her escape by scraping a hole in the wall with a bone which has been accidentally conveyed into the tower; sometimes it is expressly said that care was taken to let the princess have no bones with her meat (J. G. von Hahn, op. cit. No. 15; L. Gonzenbach, op. cit. Nos. 26, 27; The Pentamerone, translated from Neapolitan von Felix Liebrecht (Breslau, 1846), No. 23, vol. i. pp. 294 sqq.). From this we should infer that it is a rule with savages not to let women handle the bones of animals during their monthly seclusions. We have already seen the great respect with which the savage treats the bones of game (Spirits of the Corn and the Wild, ii. 238 sqq., 256 sqq.); and women in their courses are specially forbidden to meddle with the hunter or fisher, as their contact or neighbourhood would spoil his sport (see below, pp. 77, 78 sq., 87, 89 ). In folk-tales the hero who uses the bone is sometimes a boy; but the incident might easily be transferred from a girl to a boy after its real meaning had been forgotten. Amongst the Tinneh Indians a girl at puberty is forbidden to break the bones of hares (above, p. 48). On the other hand, she drinks out of a tube made of a swan's bone (above, pp. 48, 49), and the same instrument is used for the same purpose by girls of the Carrier tribe of Indians (see below, p. 92). We have seen that a Tlingit (Thlinkeet) girl in the same circumstances used to drink out of the wing-bone of a white-headed eagle (above, p. 45), and that among the Nootka and Shuswap tribes girls at puberty are provided with bones or combs with which to scratch themselves, because they may not use their fingers for this purpose (above, pp. 44, 53).
171.
Sophocles, Antigone, 944 sqq.; Apollodorus, Library, ii. 4. 1; Horace, Odes, iii. 16. 1. sqq.; Pausanias, ii. 23. 7.
172.
W. Radloff, Samples of the folk literature of the Turkish tribes of South Siberia, iii. (St. Petersburg, 1870) pp. 82 sq.
173.
H. Ternaux-Compans, *Essay on ancient Cundinamarca* (Paris, n.d.), p. 18.
174.
George Turner, LL.D., Samoa, a hundred years ago and even earlier (London, 1884), p. 200. For other examples of such tales, see Adolph Bastian, The Peoples of East Asia, i. 416, vi. 25; Panjab Notes and Questions, ii. p. 148, § 797 (June, 1885); A. Pfizmaier, “Messages from the ancient residents of present-day Korea,” Reports from the philosophical and historical class of the Imperial Academy of Sciences (Vienna), lvii. (1868) pp. 495 sq.
175.
Thomas J. Hutchinson, "On the Chaco and other Indigenous peoples of South America," Transactions of the Ethnological Society of London, N.S. iii. (1865) p. 327. Amongst the Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco the marriage feast is now apparently extinct. See W. Barbrooke Grubb, A Mysterious Group in a Mysterious Place (London, 1911), p. 179.
176.
Monier Williams, Religious Beliefs and Life in India (London, 1883), p. 354.
177.
H. Vambery, The Turkish people (Leipsic, 1885), p. 112.
178.
Hans Egede, *What Greenland Is Like* (London, 1818), p. 209.
179.
Review of Popular Traditions, xv. (1900) p. 471.
180.
Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, pp. 145
181.
H. E. A. Meyer, “Manners and Customs of the Aborigines of the Encounter Bay Tribe, South Australia,” The Indigenous Tribes of South Australia (Adelaide, 1879), p. 186.
182.
E. J. Eyre, Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia (London, 1845), ii. 304.
183.
E. J. Eyre, op. cit. ii. 295.
184.
R. Brough Smyth, The Aboriginal people of Victoria (Melbourne and London, 1878), i. 236.
185.
Samuel Gason, in *Journal of the Anthropological Institute*, xxiv. (1895) p. 171.
186.
Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, Indigenous Tribes of Central Australia (London, 1899), p. 473; same, Central Australia's Northern Tribes (London, 1904), p. 615.
187.
James Dawson, Australian Aboriginal people (Melbourne, Sydney, and Adelaide, 1881), pp. ci. sq.
188.
Rev. William Ridley, "Report on Australian Languages and Traditions," Journal of the Anthropological Institute, ii. (1873) p. 268. Compare id., Kamilaroi and other Australian Languages (Sydney, 1875), p. 157.
189.
A. W. Howitt, The Indigenous Tribes of South-East Australia (London, 1904), pp. 776 sq., on the authority of Mr. J. C. Muirhead. The Wakelbura are in Central Queensland. Compare Captain W. E. Armit, quoted in Journal of the Anthropological Institute, ix. (1880) pp. 459 sq.
190.
Reports from the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 196, 207.
191.
Ch. Keysser, “From the Life of the Kaileute,” in R. Neuhauss's German New Guinea (Berlin, 1911), iii. 91.
192.
M. J. van Baarda, "Fables, Stories, and Legends of the Galileans," Contributions to the Language, Geography, and Ethnology of the Dutch East Indies, xlv. (1895) p. 489.
193.
J. L. van der Toorn, "Animism among the Minangkabau of the Highlands of Padang," Contributions to the Language, Geography, and Ethnology of the Dutch East Indies, xxxix. (1890) p. 66.
194.
W. H. I. Bleek, A Short Overview of Bushman Folklore (London, 1875), p. 14; compare same source, p. 10.
195.
Rev. James Macdonald, “Manners, Customs, Superstitions, and Religions of South African Tribes” Anthropological Institute Journal, xx. (1891) p. 138; same., Light in Africa, Second Edition (London, 1890), p. 221.
196.
Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir (London, 1904), p. 238; Mr. Warren's Notes, in Col. Maclean's Collection of Kafir Laws and Traditions (Cape Town, 1866), p. 93; Rev. J. Macdonald, *Light in Africa*, p. 221; id., Religion and Myth (London, 1893), p. 198. Compare Henri A. Junod, “The Physiological Concepts of South African Bantu and Their Taboos,” Ethnography and Sociology Review, i. (1910) p. 139. The danger of death to the cattle from the blood of women is mentioned only by Mr. Kidd. The part of the village which is frequented by the cattle, and which accordingly must be shunned by women, has a special name, inkundhla (Mr. Warner's Notes, l.c.).
197.
Rev. J. Roscoe, "The Bahima, a Cattle Tribe of Enkole," Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xxxvii. (1907) p. 106.
198.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), p. 419.
199.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda, p. 96.
200.
Rev. J. Roscoe, "Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda," *Journal of the Anthropological Institute*, xxxi. (1901) p. 121; id., "Additional Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda," Anthropological Institute Journal, xxxii. (1902) p. 39; id., The Baganda, p. 352.
201.
Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda, p. 459.
202.
C. W. Hobley, "Further Research on Kikuyu and Kamba Religious Beliefs and Customs," Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xli. (1911) p. 409.
203.
Mervyn W. H. Beech, The Suk, their Language and Folklore (Oxford, 1911), p. 11.
204.
H. S. Stannus, "Notes on Certain Tribes of British Central Africa," Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p. 305; R. Sutherland Rattray, Some Folk Tales and Songs in Chinyanja (London, 1907), p. 191. See above, p. 27.
205.
Jakob Spieth, The Ewe tribes (Berlin, 1906), p. 192.
206.
Anton Witte, "Menstruation and Menarche Celebration for Girls in the Kpandu Area of Togo," Baessler-Archiv, i. (1911) p. 279.
207.
Th. Nöldeke, History of the Persians and Arabs during the Sassanian period, translated from the Arabic chronicle of Tabari (Leyden, 1879), pp. 33-38. I have to thank my friend Professor A. A. Bevan for pointing out to me this passage. Many ancient cities had talismans on the preservation of which their safety was believed to depend. The Palladium of Troy is the most familiar instance. See Chr. A. Lobeck, Aglaophamus (Königsberg, 1829), pp. 278 sqq., and my note on Pausanias, viii. 47. 5 (vol. iv. pp. 433 sq.).
208.
J. Mergel, The Medicine of the Talmudists (Leipsic and Berlin, 1885), pp. 15 sq.
209.
Maimonides, quoted by D. Chwolsohn, The Ssabier and Ssabism (St. Petersburg, 1856), ii. 483. According to the editor (p. 735) by the East Maimonides means India and eastern countries generally.
210.
L'abbé Béchara Chémali, "Birth and early years in Lebanon," Human, v. (1910) p. 735.
211.
Eijūb Abēla, "Contributions to the Understanding of Superstitious Practices in Syria," Journal of the German Palestine Association, vii. (1884) p. 111.
212.
J. Chalmers, “Toaripi,” Anthropological Institute Journal, xxvii. (1898) p. 328.
213.
W. Crooke, Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh (Calcutta, 1896), ii. 87.
214.
W. Crooke, in North Indian Notes and Queries, i. p. 67, § 467 (July, 1891).
215.
L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer, The Cochin Tribes and Castes, i. (Madras, 1909) pp. 201-203. As to the seclusion of menstruous women among the Hindoos, see also Sonnerat, Journey to the East Indies and China (Paris, 1782), i. 31; J. A. Dubois, Customs, Institutions, and Ceremonies of the Peoples of India (Paris, 1825), i. 245 sq. Nair women in Malabar seclude themselves for three days at menstruation and prepare their food in separate pots and pans. See Duarte Barbosa, A Description of the Coasts of East Africa and Malabar at the Start of the Sixteenth Century (Hakluyt Society, London, 1866), pp. 132 sq.
216.
G. Hoffman, Excerpts from Syrian Documents of Persian Martyrs Translated (Leipsic, 1880), p. 99. This passage was pointed out to me by my friend Professor A. A. Bevan.
217.
J. B. Tavernier, Travels in Turkey, Persia, and the Indies (The Hague, 1718), i. 488.
218.
Paul Giran, Magic and Religion of the Annamites (Paris, 1912), pp. 107 square, 112.
219.
Joseph Gumilla, Natural, Civil, and Geographic History of the Orinoco (Avignon, 1758), i. 249.
220.
Dr. Louis Plassard, "Les Guaraunos and the Orinoco Delta," Bulletin of the Geographical Society (Paris), v. Série, xv. (1868) p. 584.
221.
J. Crevaux, Trips in South America (Paris, 1883), p. 526. As to the customs observed at menstruation by Indian women in South America, see further A. d'Orbigny, The American Man (Paris, 1839), i. 237.
222.
Chas. N. Bell, "The Mosquito Zone," Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, xxxii. (1862) p. 254.
223.
H. Pittier de Fabrega, "The language of the Bribri Indians in Costa Rica," Reports of the Philosophical-Historical Class of the Imperial Academy of Sciences (Vienna), cxxxviii. (1898) pp. 19 sq.
224.
Gabriel Sagard, The Great Journey of the Huron Land, Nouvelle Édition (Paris, 1865), p. 54 (original edition, Paris, 1632); J. F. Lafitau, Customs of American Indigenous Peoples (Paris, 1724), i. 262; Charlevoix, *History of New France* (Paris, 1744), v. 423 sq.; Captain Jonathan Carver, Journeys Through the Inner Regions of North America, Third Edition (London, 1781), pp. 236 sq.; Captains Lewis and Clark, Expedition to the Sources of the Missouri, etc. (London, 1905), iii. 90 (original edition, 1814); Rev. Jedidiah Morse, Report to the Secretary of War of the United States on Indian Affairs (New Haven, 1822), pp. 136 sq.; Annuals of the Association for the Propagation of the Faith, iv. (Paris and Lyons, 1830) pp. 483, 494 sq.; George Catlin, Letters and Notes on the Behaviors, Traditions, and Situation of the North American Indians, Fourth Edition (London, 1844), ii. 233; H. R. Schoolcraft, Native American Tribes of the United States (Philadelphia, 1853-1856), v. 70; A. L. Kroeber, "The Religion of the California Indians," University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, vol. iv. No. 6 (Berkeley, September, 1907), pp. 323 sq.; Frank G. Speck, Yuchi Indian Ethnology (Philadelphia, 1909), p. 96. Among the Hurons of Canada women at their periods did not retire from the house or village, but they ate from small dishes apart from the rest of the family at these times (Gabriel Sagard, l.c.).
225.
James Adair, History of Native Americans (London, 1775), pp. 123 sq.
226.
Bossu, New Travels to the West Indies (Paris, 1768), ii. 105.
227.
Edwin James, Report on a Journey from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains (London, 1823), i. 214.
228.
William H. Keating, Report on a Journey to the Source of St. Peter's River (London, 1825), i. 132.
229.
G. B. Grinnell, “Cheyenne Women's Customs,” American Anthropologist, New Series, iv. (New York, 1902) p. 14.
230.
C. Hill Tout, "Ethnological Report on the Stseelis and Skaulits Tribes of the Halokmelem Division of the Salish in British Columbia," Anthropological Institute Journal, xxxiv. (1904) p. 320.
231.
James Teit, The Thompson Indians of British Columbia, pp. 326 sq. (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, April, 1900).
232.
Samuel Hearne, Journey from Prince of Wales's Fort in Hudson's Bay to the Northern Ocean (London, 1795), pp. 314 sq.; Alex. Mackenzie, Journeys across the North American continent (London, 1801), p. cxxiii.; E. Petitot, Monograph of Dènè-Dindjié (Paris, 1876), pp. 75 sq.
233.
C. Leemius, On the Lapps of Finmark and their language, life, and ancient religion (Copenhagen, 1767), p. 494.
234.
E. W. Nelson, “The Inuit about Bering Strait,” Eighteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1899) p. 440.
235.
The Carriers are a tribe of Déné or Tinneh Indians who get their name from a custom observed among them by widows, who carry, or rather used to carry, the charred bones of their dead husbands about with them in bundles.
236.
Hence we may conjecture that the similar ornaments worn by Mabuiag girls in similar circumstances are also amulets. See above, p. 36. Among the aborigines of the Upper Yarra river in Victoria, a girl at puberty used to have cords tied very tightly round several parts of her body. The cords were worn for several days, causing the whole body to swell very much and inflicting great pain. The girl might not remove them till she was clean. See R. Brough Smyth, Victorian Aborigines (Melbourne and London, 1878), i. 65. Perhaps the cords were intended to arrest the flow of blood.
237.
Rev. Father A.G. Morice, “The Western Dénés, their Traditions and Practices,” Canadian Institute Proceedings, Toronto, Third Series, vii. (1888-89) pp. 162-164. The writer has repeated the substance of this account in a later work, In the Land of the Black Bear: Among the Savages of British Columbia (Paris and Lyons, 1897), pp. 72 sq.
238.
A. G. Morice, "Notes on the Archaeology, Industry, and Sociology of the Western Dénés," Canadian Institute Transactions, iv. (1892-93) pp. 106 sq. Compare Rev. Father Julius Jetté, "On the Superstitions of the Ten'a Indians," Anthropos, vi. (1911) pp. 703 sq., who tells us that Tinneh women at these times may not lift their own nets, may not step over other people's nets, and may not pass in a boat or canoe near a place where nets are being set.
239.
A. G. Morice, in Canadian Institute Transactions, iv. (1892-93) pp. 107, 110.
240.
James Teit, The Thompson Indigenous People of British Columbia, p. 327 (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, April 1900).
241.
See above, p. 53.
242.
Laws of Manu, translated by G. Bühler (Oxford, 1886), ch. iv. 41 sq., p. 135 (Holy Books of the East, vol. xxv.).
243.
The Zend-Avesta, translated by J. Darmesteter, i. (Oxford, 1880) p. xcii. (Holy Books of the East, vol. iv.). See id., pp. 9, 181-185, Fargard, i. 18 and 19, xvi. 1-18.
244.
Pliny, Nat. Hist. vii. 64 sq., xxviii. 77 sqq. Compare Geoponica, xii. 20. 5 and 25. 2; Columella, *De re rustica*, xi. 357 sqq.
245.
August Schleicher, Popular traditions at Sonnenberg (Weimar, 1858), p. 134; B. Souché, Beliefs, Omens, and Various Traditions (Niort, 1880), p. 11; A. Meyrac, Traditions, Customs, Legends, and Tales of the Ardennes (Charleville, 1890), p. 171; V. Fossel, Folk Medicine and Medical Superstition in Styria2 (Graz, 1886), p. 124. A correspondent, who withholds her name, writes to me that in a Suffolk village, where she used to live some twenty or thirty years ago, "Everyone pickled their own beef, and it was believed that if a woman pickled the meat while she was on her period, it wouldn't last. If the cook couldn't do it when it was time to pickle, another woman was called from the village instead of risking what was seen as a certainty." Another correspondent informs me that in some of the dales in the north of Yorkshire a similar belief prevailed down to recent years with regard to the salting of pork. Another correspondent writes to me: "The rule that a menstruating woman shouldn't touch meat meant for preservation seems to be a common practice throughout the country; I've encountered it as a well-established and active custom in various parts of England.... This prohibition is most commonly associated with salting meat for bacon, as that is the most common process; however, it also applies to any meat that needs to be preserved."
246.
R. Andree, Braunschweiger Folk Culture (Brunswick, 1896), p. 291.
247.
W. R. Paton, in Folklore, i. (1890) p. 524.
248.
The Greeks and Romans thought that a field was completely protected against insects if a menstruous woman walked round it with bare feet and streaming hair (Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvii. 266, xxviii. 78; Columella, On rural affairs, x. 358 sq., xi. 3. 64; Palladius, On Rural Matters, i. 35. 3; Geoponica, xii. 8. 5 sq.; Aelian, Nat. Anim. vi. 36). A similar preventive is employed for the same purpose by North American Indians and European peasants. See H. R. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes of the United States (Philadelphia, 1853-1856), v. 70; F. J. Wiedemann, From the inner and outer life of the Ehsten (St. Petersburg, 1876), p. 484. Compare J. Haltrich, On the Folklore of Transylvanian Saxons (Vienna, 1885), p. 280; Adolph Heinrich, Agricultural customs and traditions among the Saxons of Transylvania (Hermannstadt, 1880), p. 14; J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 iii. 468; G. Lammert, Folk medicine and medical superstition from Bavaria (Würzburg, 1869), p. 147. Among the Western Dénés it is believed that one or two transverse lines tattooed on the arms or legs of a young man by a pubescent girl are a specific against premature weakness of these limbs. See A. G. Morice, "Notes on the Archaeology, Industry, and Sociology of the Western Dénés" Canadian Institute Transactions, iv. (1892-93) p. 182. The Thompson Indians of British Columbia thought that the Dawn of Day could and would cure hernia if only an adolescent girl prayed to it to do so. Just before daybreak the girl would put some charcoal in her mouth, chew it fine, and spit it out four times on the diseased place. Then she prayed: "O Daybreak! Your child depends on me to find healing from you, who are full of mystery. Ease the suffering of your child. Have mercy on him, Daybreak!" See James Teit, The Thompson Indians of British Columbia, pp. 345 sq. (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, April, 1900). To cure the painful and dangerous wound inflicted by a ray-fish, the Indians of the Gran Chaco smoke the wounded limb and then cause a woman in her courses to sit astride of it. See G. Pelleschi, Eight Months in the Gran Chaco of Argentina (London, 1886), p. 106. An ancient Hindoo method of securing prosperity was to swallow a portion of the menstruous fluid. See W. Caland, Indian Magic Ritual (Amsterdam, 1900), pp. 57 sq. To preserve a new cow from the evil eye Scottish Highlanders used to sprinkle menstruous blood on the animal; and at certain seasons of the year, especially at Beltane (the first of May) and Lammas (the first of August) it was their custom to sprinkle the same potent liquid on the doorposts and houses all round to guard them from harm. The fluid was applied by means of a wisp of straw, and the person who discharged this salutary office went round the house in the direction of the sun. See J. G. Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1900), p. 248. These are examples of the beneficent application of the menstruous energy.
249.
Taboo and the Dangers of the Soul, pp. 1
250.
For a similar reason, perhaps, ancient Hindoo ritual prescribed that when the hair of a child's head was shorn in the third year, the clippings should be buried in a cow-stable, or near an udumbara tree, or in a clump of darbha grass, with the words, “Where Pushan, Brihaspati, Savitri, Soma, and Agni reside, they have explored various ways to determine where to place it, between heaven and earth, the waters and the sky.” See The Grihya-Sûtras, translated by H. Oldenberg, Part ii. (Oxford, 1892) p. 218 (Holy Books of the East, vol. xxx.).
251.
Petronius, Sat. 48; Pausanias, x. 12. 8; Justin Martyr, Cohort to the Greeks, 37, p. 34 c (ed. 1742). According to another account, the remains of the Sibyl were enclosed in an iron cage which hung from a pillar in an ancient temple of Hercules at Argyrus (Ampelius, Liber Memorialis, viii. 16).
252.
A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Northeastern German Legends, Fairy Tales, and Customs (Leipsic, 1848), p. 70, No. 72. 1. This and the following German parallels to the story of the Sibyl's wish were first indicated by Dr. M. R. James (Classical Review, vi. (1892) p. 74). I have already given the stories at length in a note on Pausanias, x. 12. 8 (vol. v. pp. 292 sq.).
253.
A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, op. cit. pp. 70 squared, No. 72. 2.
254.
A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, same work p. 71, No. 72. 3.
255.
Karl Müllenhoff, Tales, folktales, and songs from the duchies of Holstein and Lauenburg (Kiel, 1845), pp. 158 sq., No. 217.
256.
The Edda, übersetzt von K. Simrock8 (Stuttgart, 1882), pp. 286-288. Compare pp. 8, 34, 264. Balder's story is told in a professedly historical form by the old Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus in his third book. See below, p. 103. In English the story is told at length by Professor (Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London and Edinburgh, 1888), pp. 529 sqq. It is elaborately discussed by Professor F. Kauffmann in a learned monograph, Balder, Myth, and Legend (Strasburg, 1902).
257.
Gudbrand Vigfusson and F. York Powell, Northern Poetry Collection, i. (Oxford, 1883) p. 197. Compare Edda Rhythmic or Older, commonly known as Saemundina, Pars iii. (Copenhagen, 1828) pp. 39 sq.; The Edda, übersetzt von K. Simrock8 (Stuttgart, 1882), p. 8; K. Müllenhoff, German Antiquity Studies, v. Zweite Abteilung (Berlin, 1891), pp. 78 sq.; Fr. Kauffmann, Balder, Myth, and Legend, pp. 20 sq. In this passage the words translated "bloody victim" (blue sound) and "imminent destiny" (ørlog fólgen) are somewhat uncertain and have been variously interpreted. The word tivor, usually understood to mean “God,” seems to be found nowhere else. Professor H. M. Chadwick has kindly furnished me with the following literal translation of the passage: “I saw (or ‘have seen’) that the life of Balder, the bloodied god and Othin's son, was being kept safe. High above the fields (i.e. the surface of the earth) grew a slender and very beautiful mistletoe. From a shaft (or ‘stem’) that looked thin came a dangerous, sorrow-bringing missile (i.e. the shaft became a ... missile); Hodr aimed to shoot. Soon a brother of Balder was born. He, Othin's son, went into battle when he was just a boy. He didn't wash his hands or comb his hair before he brought Balder's enemy to the pyre. But Frigg in Fen-salir (i.e. the Fen-abode) mourned the troubles of Valholl.” In translating the words shadow follower "kept safe the life" Professor Chadwick follows Professor F. Kauffmann's rendering (life preserves); but he writes to me that he is not quite confident about it, as the word ørlog usually means “destiny” rather than “life.” Several sentences translated by Professor Chadwick ("Not long after, a brother of Balder was born ... he brought Balder's enemy to the funeral pyre.") are omitted by some editors and translators of the Edda.
258.
G. Vigfusson and F. York Powell, Northern Poetic Corpus, i. 200 sq.; Edda Rhythmic or Older, commonly known as Saemundina, Pars iii. pp. 51-54; The Edda, übersetzt von K. Simrock8 pp. 10 sq.; K. Müllenhoff, German Antiquity Studies, v. Zweite Abteilung, pp. 84 square
259.
Saxo Grammaticus, History of Denmark, ed. P. E. Müller (Copenhagen, 1839-1858), lib. iii. vol. i. pp. 110 sqq.; The First Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus, translated by Oliver Elton (London, 1894), pp. 83-93.
260.
Fridthjof's Saga, from Old Icelandic, von J. C. Poestion (Vienna, 1879), pp. 3 sq., 14-17, 45-52.
261.
The Epic of Kings, Stories retold from Firdusi, by Helen Zimmern (London, 1883), pp. 325-331. The parallel between Balder and Isfendiyar was pointed out in the “Dictionary of Mythology” appended to the Edda Rhythmica or the Older Edda, commonly known as Saemundina, Pars iii. (Copenhagen, 1828) p. 513 note, with a reference to Shahnameh, translated by Görres, ii. 324, 327 sq. It is briefly mentioned by Dr. P. Wagler, The Oak in Old and New Times, ii. Teil (Berlin, 1891), p. 40.
262.
See Jacob Grimm, German Mythology4 (Berlin, 1875-1878), i. 502, 510, 516.
263.
W. Mannhardt, The tree cult of the Germans and their neighboring tribes (Berlin, 1875), pp. 518 sq.
264.
In the following survey of these fire-customs I follow chiefly W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, kap. vi. pp. 497 sqq. Compare also J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 500 ; Walter K. Kelly, Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folklore (London, 1863), pp. 46 sqq.; F. Vogt, "Wheel throwing and spring fires," Journal of the Folklore Society, iii. (1893) pp. 349-369; same source iv. (1894) pp. 195-197.
265.
*The Scapegoat*, pp. 316 sqq.
266.
The first Sunday in Lent is known as Invocavit from the first word of the mass for the day (O. Frh. von Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Festival Calendar from Bohemia, p. 67).
267.
Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Belgian Calendar (Brussels, 1861-1862), i. 141-143; E. Monseur, Walloon Folklore (Brussels, n.d.), pp. 124 sq.
268.
Emile Hublard, Celebrations of Yesteryear, the Fires of Lent (Mons, 1899), pp. 25. For the loan of this work I am indebted to Mrs. Wherry of St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge.
269.
É. Hublard, op. cit. pp. 27 sq.
270.
A. Meyrac, Traditions, customs, legends, and stories of the Ardennes (Charleville, 1890), p. 68.
271.
L. F. Sauvé, The Folklore of the High Vosges (Paris, 1889), p. 56. The popular name for the bonfires in the Upper Vosges (High Vosges) is chavandes.
272.
E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Festivals (Paris, 1867), pp. 101 sq. The local name for these bonfires is bures.
273.
Charles Beauquier, The months in Franche-Comté (Paris, 1900), pp. 33 sq. In Bresse the custom was similar. See La Bresse Louhannaise, Monthly Bulletin, Official Publication of the Agricultural and Horticultural Society of the Louhans District, Mars, 1906, pp. 111 sq.; E. Cortet, op. cit. p. 100. The usual name for the bonfires is chevannes or schvannes; but in some places they are called foulères, foualères, flaws, or bourdifailles (Ch. Beauquier, op. cit. p. 34). But the Sunday is called the Sunday of the brandons, burettes, borders, or birds, according to the place. The brandons are the torches which are carried about the streets and the fields; the bonfires, as we have seen, bear another name. A curious custom, observed on the same Sunday in Franche-Comté, requires that couples married within the year should distribute boiled peas to all the young folks of both sexes who demand them at the door. The lads and lasses go about from house to house, making the customary request; in some places they wear masks or are otherwise disguised. See Ch. Beauquier, op. cit. pp. 31-33.
274.
Curiously enough, while the singular is granno-mio, the plural is grannas-mias.
275.
Dr. Pommerol, “The Festival of the Brandons and the Gallic god Grannus,” Bulletins and Memoirs of the Paris Anthropological Society, v. Série, ii. (1901) pp. 427-429.
276.
Op. cit. pp. 428 sq.
277.
H. Dessau, Selected Latin Inscriptions, vol. ii. Pars i. (Berlin, 1902) pp. 216 sq., Nos. 4646-4652.
278.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London, 1888), pp. 22-25.
279.
Émile Hublard, Festivals of Times Past, the Fires of Lent (Mons, 1899), p. 38, quoting Dom Grenier, History of the Province of Picardy.
280.
É. Hublard, op. cit. p. 39, quoting Dom Grenier.
281.
M. Desgranges, “Uses of the Canton of Bonneval,” Memoirs of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, i. (Paris, 1817) pp. 236-238; Felix Chapiseau, The folklore of Beauce and Perche (Paris, 1902), i. 315 sq.
282.
John Brand, Famous Historical Sites of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 100.
283.
E. Cortet, *Essay on Religious Festivals* (Paris, 1867), pp. 99 sq.; La Bresse Louhannaise, Mars, 1906, p. 111.
284.
A. de Nore, *Customs, myths, and traditions of the provinces of France* (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 283 sq. A similar, though not identical, custom prevailed at Valenciennes (same source p. 338).
285.
A. de Nore, op. cit. p. 302.
286.
Désiré Monnier, Comparative folk traditions (Paris, 1854), pp. 191 sq.
287.
Laisnel de la Salle, Beliefs and Legends of Central France (Paris, 1875), i. 35 sqq.
288.
Jules Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Countryside (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1887), ii. 131 sq. For more evidence of customs of this sort observed in various parts of France on the first Sunday in Lent, see Madame Clément, History of Civil and Religious Celebrations, etc., of the North Department2 (Cambrai, 1836), pp. 351 sqq.; Émile Hublard, Celebrations of the Past, the Fires of Lent (Mons, 1899), pp. 33 sqq.
289.
J. H. Schmitz, Customs and Sayings, Songs, Proverbs, and Riddles of the Eifel People (Trèves, 1856-1858), i. 21-25; N. Hocker, in Journal for German Mythology and Customs, i. (1853) p. 90; W. Mannhardt, The tree cult of the Germans and their neighboring tribes (Berlin, 1875), p. 501.
290.
N. Hocker, op. cit. pp. 89 sq.; W. Mannhardt, l.c.
291.
F. J. Vonbun, Contributions to German Mythology (Chur, 1862), p. 20; W. Mannhardt, l.c.
292.
Ernst Meier, German Legends, Customs, and Traditions from Swabia (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 380 sqq.; Anton Birlinger, Folk traditions from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), ii. 56 sqq., 66 sqq.; Bavaria, Regional and Folk Culture of the Kingdom of Bavaria (Munich, 1860-1867), ii. 2, pp. 838 sq.; F. Panzer, Contribution to German Mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), i. 211, § 232; W. Mannhardt, l.c. One of the popular German names for the first Sunday in Lent is White Sunday, which is not to be confused with the first Sunday after Easter, which also goes by the name of White Sunday (E. Meier, op. cit. p. 380; A. Birlinger, op. cit. ii. 56).
293.
H. Gaidoz, "The Gallic god of the sun and the symbolism of the wheel," Archaeological Review, iii. série, iv. (1884) pp. 139 sq.
294.
August Witzschel, Stories, traditions, and customs from Thuringia (Vienna, 1878), p. 189; F. Panzer, Contribution to German mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), ii. 207; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, pp. 500 sq.
295.
W. Kolbe, Hessian Folk Customs and Traditions2 (Marburg, 1888), p. 36.
296.
Adalbert Kuhn, The Descent of the Fire and the Drink of the Gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 86, quoting Hocker, The Moselle Region's Stories, Tales, and Legends (Trier, 1852), pp. 415 sqq. Compare W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 501; and below, pp. 163 sq. Thus it appears that the ceremony of rolling the fiery wheel down hill was observed twice a year at Konz, once on the first Sunday in Lent, and once at Midsummer.
297.
H. Herzog, Swiss festivals, customs, and traditions (Aarau, 1884), pp. 214-216; E. Hoffmann-Krayer, "Fertility rituals in Swiss folklore," Swiss Archive of Folklore, xi. (1907) pp. 247-249; id., Festivals and traditions of the Swiss (Zurich, 1913), pp. 135 sq.
298.
Theodor Vernaleken, Myths and Traditions of the People in Austria (Vienna, 1859), pp. 293 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 498. See The Dying God, p. 250.
299.
J. H. Schmitz, Customs and Sayings, Songs, Proverbs, and Riddles of the Eifel People (Treves, 1856-1858), i. 20; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 499.
300.
L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), ii. 39, § 306; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 498.
301.
W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 499.
302.
W. Mannhardt, op. cit. pp. 498 sq.
303.
W. Mannhardt, op. cit. p. 499.
304.
Christian Schneller, Fairy Tales and Legends from South Tyrol (Innsbruck, 1867), pp. 234 sq.; W. Mannhardt, op. cit. pp. 499 sq.
305.
John Brand, Popular Antiquities of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 157 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, pp. 502-505; Karl Freiherr von Leoprechting, From the Lechrain (Munich, 1855), pp. 172 sq.; Anton Birlinger, Folk Traditions from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), i. 472 sq.; Montanus, The German folk festivals, folk customs, and German folk beliefs (Iserlohn, n.d.), p. 26; F. Panzer, Contribution to German mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), ii. 241 sq.; Ernst Meier, German Legends, Customs and Traditions from Swabia (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 139 sq.; Bavaria, Regional and Folk Studies of the Kingdom of Bavaria (Munich, 1860-1867), i. 371; A. Wuttke, German folk superstition2 (Berlin, 1869), pp. 68 sq., § 81; Ignaz V. Zingerle, Then, customs and opinions of the Tyrolean people2 (Innsbruck, 1871), p. 149, §§ 1286-1289; W. Kolbe, Hessian Folk Customs and Traditions2 (Marburg, 1888), pp. 44 ; County Folklore, Printed Extracts, Leicestershire and Rutland, collected by C. J. Billson (London, 1895), pp. 75 sq.; A. Tiraboschi, "Paschal customs in Bergamasco," Archive for the Study of Popular Traditions, i. (1892) pp. 442 sq. The ecclesiastical custom of lighting the Paschal or Easter candle is very fully described by Mr. H. J. Feasey, Old English Holy Week Ritual (London, 1897), pp. 179 sqq. These candles were sometimes of prodigious size; in the cathedrals of Norwich and Durham, for example, they reached almost to the roof, from which they had to be lighted. Often they went by the name of the Judas Light or the Judas Candle; and sometimes small waxen figures of Judas were hung on them. See H. J. Feasey, op. cit. pp. 193, 213 sqq. As to the ritual of the new fire at St. Peter's in Rome, see R. Chambers, *The Book of Days* (London and Edinburgh, 1886), i. 421; and as to the early history of the rite in the Catholic church, see Mgr. L. Duchesne, Origins of Christian Worship3 (Paris, 1903), pp. 250-257.
306.
Bavaria, the Regional and Folk Culture of the Kingdom of Bavaria (Munich, 1860-1867), i. 1002 sq.
307.
Gennaro Finamore, Abruzzese Beliefs, Customs and Traditions (Palermo, 1890), pp. 122 sq.
308.
G. Finamore, op. cit. pp. 123 sq.
309.
Vincenzo Dorsa, The Greco-Latin Tradition in the Customs and Beliefs of Calabria Citeriore (Cosenza, 1884), pp. 48 sq.
310.
Alois John, Customs, Practices, and Folk Beliefs in German West Bohemia (Prague, 1905), pp. 62 sq.
311.
K. Seifart, Stories, fairy tales, jokes, and customs from the city and monastery of Hildesheim2 (Hildesheim, 1889), pp. 177 sq., 179 sq.
312.
M. Lexer, "Folk Traditions from the Lesach Valley in Carinthia," Journal of German Mythology and Customs, iii. (1855) p. 31.
313.
The Popish Kingdom or reign of Antichrist, written in Latin verse by Thomas Naogeorgus and translated into English by Barnabe Googe, 1570, edited by R. C. Hope (London, 1880), p. 52, front side. The title of the original poem was Papacy. The author, Thomas Kirchmeyer (Naogeorgus, as he called himself), died in 1577. The book is a satire on the abuses and superstitions of the Catholic Church. Only one perfect copy of Googe's translation is known to exist: it is in the University Library at Cambridge. See Mr. R. C. Hope's introduction to his reprint of this rare work, pp. xv. sq. The words, "Then Clappers stop, and bells are set once again at liberty," refer to the custom in Catholic countries of silencing the church bells for two days from noon on Maundy Thursday to noon on Easter Saturday and substituting for their music the harsh clatter of wooden rattles. See R. Chambers, The Book of Days (London and Edinburgh, 1886), i. 412 sq. According to another account the church bells are silent from midnight on the Wednesday preceding Maundy Thursday till matins on Easter Day. See W. Smith and S. Cheetham, *Dictionary of Christian Antiquities* (London, 1875-1880), ii. 1161, referring to Roman Rite. i. U.S.
314.
R. Chambers, *The Book of Days* (London and Edinburgh, 1886), i. 421.
315.
Miss Jessie L. Weston, “The Scoppio del Carro in Florence,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 182-184; “Scoppio del Carro,” Resurrection, Unique Edition of Holy Saturday (Florence, April, 1906), p. 1 (giving a picture of the car with its pyramid of fire-works). The latter paper was kindly sent to me from Florence by my friend Professor W. J. Lewis. I have also received a letter on the subject from Signor Carlo Placci, dated 4 (or 7) September, 1905, 1 Via Alfieri, Firenze.
316.
Frederick Starr, “Easter Week in Mexico,” The Journal of American Folklore, xii. (1899) pp. 164 sq.; C. Boyson Taylor, "Easter Around the World," Everybody's Magazine, New York, 1903, p. 293. I have to thank Mr. S. S. Cohen, of 1525 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, for sending me a cutting from the latter magazine.
317.
K. von den Steinen, Among the indigenous peoples of Central Brazil (Berlin, 1894), pp. 458 sq.; E. Montet, "Religion and Superstition in South America," Journal of the History of Religions, xxxii. (1895) p. 145.
318.
J. J. von Tschudi, Peru, Travel Sketches from 1838-1842 (St. Gallen, 1846), ii. 189 sq.
319.
H. Candelier, Riohacha and the Goajira Indians (Paris, 1893), p. 85.
320.
Henry Maundrell, “A Journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem at Easter, a.d. 1697,” in Bohn's Early Travelers in Palestine (London, 1848), pp. 462-465; Mgr. Auvergne, in Annals of the Propagation of the Faith, x. (1837) pp. 23 sq.; A. P. Stanley, Sinai and Palestine, Second Edition (London, 1856), pp. 460-465; E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays (Paris, 1867), pp. 137-139; A. W. Kinglake, Eothen, chapter xvi. pp. 158-163 (Temple Classics edition); Father X. Abougit, S.J., "The fire of the Holy Sepulchre," Catholic Missions, viii. (1876) pp. 518 sq.; Rev. C. T. Wilson, Life of Farmers in the Holy Land (London, 1906), pp. 45 sq.; P. Saint-yves, “Revival of the Sacred Fire,” Review of Popular Traditions, xxvii. (1912) pp. 449 The distribution of the new fire in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is the subject of a picture by Holman Hunt. From some printed notes on the picture, with which Mrs. Holman Hunt was so kind as to furnish me, it appears that the new fire is carried by horsemen to Bethlehem and Jaffa, and that a Russian ship conveys it from Jaffa to Odessa, whence it is distributed all over the country.
321.
Father X. Abougit, S.J., “The Holy Sepulchre Fire,” Catholic Missions, viii. (1876) pp. 165-168.
322.
I have described the ceremony as I witnessed it at Athens, on April 13th, 1890. Compare Folklore, i. (1890) p. 275. Having been honoured, like other strangers, with a place on the platform, I did not myself detect Lucifer at work among the multitude below; I merely suspected his insidious presence.
323.
W. H. D. Rouse, “Folklore from the Southern Sporades,” Folklore, x. (1899) p. 178.
324.
Mrs. A. E. Gardner was so kind as to send me a photograph of a Theban Judas dangling from a gallows and partially enveloped in smoke. The photograph was taken at Thebes during the Easter celebration of 1891.
325.
G. F. Abbott, Macedonian Folklore (Cambridge, 1903) p. 37.
326.
Cirbied, "Memoir on the government and religion of the ancient Armenians," Memoirs published by the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, ii. (1820) pp. 285-287; Manuk Abeghian, Armenian folk belief (Leipsic, 1899), pp. 72-74. The ceremony is said to be merely a continuation of an old heathen festival which was held at the beginning of spring in honour of the fire-god Mihr. A bonfire was made in a public place, and lamps kindled at it were kept burning throughout the year in each of the fire-god's temples.
327.
The Magical Craft and the Development of Kings, i. 32, ii. 243; Spirits of the Corn and the Wild, ii. 65, 74, 75, 78, 136.
328.
Garcilasso de la Vega, *Royal Commentaries of the Incas*, translated by (Sir) Clements R. Markham (Hakluyt Society, London, 1869-1871), vol. ii. pp. 155-163. Compare Juan de Velasco, “History of the Kingdom of Quito,” in H. Ternaux-Compans's Voyages, Relations, and Original Memoirs to Contribute to the History of the Discovery of America, xviii. (Paris, 1840) p. 140.
329.
B. de Sahagun, General History of Things in New Spain, traduite par D. Jourdanet et R. Simeon (Paris, 1880), bk. ii. chapters 18 and 37, pp. 76, 161; Brasseur de Bourbourg, History of the Civilized Nations of Mexico and Central America (Paris, 1857-1859), iii. 136.
330.
Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, “The Zuni Tribe,” 23rd Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology (Washington, 1904), pp. 108-141, 148-162, especially pp. 108, 109, 114 sq., 120 sq., 130 sq., 132, 148 sq., 157 sq. I have already described these ceremonies in Totemism and Exogamy, iii. 237 sq. Among the Hopi (Moqui) Indians of Walpi, another pueblo village of this region, new fire is ceremonially kindled by friction in November. See Jesse Walter Fewkes, “The Tusayan New Fire Ceremony,” Proceedings of the Boston Society of Natural History, xxvi. 422-458; see above., "The Group of Tusayan Ceremonials known as Katcinas," Fifteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (Washington, 1897), p. 263; same., “Hopi Katcinas,” 21st Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology (Washington, 1903), p. 24.
331.
Henry R. Schoolcraft, Iroquois Notes (Albany, 1847), p. 137. Schoolcraft did not know the date of the ceremony, but he conjectured that it fell at the end of the Iroquois year, which was a lunar year of twelve or thirteen months. He says: "The end of the lunar cycle should mark the time for extinguishing the fire, and the start of the next cycle, the time for rekindling it with a new fire. This idea aligns well with the practices of tropical tribes and seems likely." (op. cit. p. 138).
332.
C. F. Hall, Life with the Inuit (London, 1864), ii. 323.
333.
Franz Boas, "The Inuit of Baffin Land and Hudson Bay," Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History, xv. Part i. (New York, 1901) p. 151.
334.
G. Nachtigal, Sahara and Sudan, iii. (Leipsic, 1889) p. 251.
335.
Major C. Percival, “Tropical Africa, on the Border of Muslim Civilization,” *The Geographical Journal*, xlii. (1913) pp. 253 sq.
336.
Adrien Germain, "Note on Zanzibar and the East Coast of Africa," Bulletin of the Geography Society (Paris), v. Série xvi. (1868) p. 557; Catholic Missions, iii. (1870) p. 270; Charles New, Life, Travels, and Work in Eastern Africa (London, 1873), p. 65; Jerome Becker, Life in Africa (Paris and Brussels, 1887), ii. 36; O. Baumann, Usambara and its neighboring areas (Berlin, 1891), pp. 55 sq.; C. Velten, Customs and Traditions of the Swahili (Göttingen, 1903), pp. 342-344.
337.
Duarte Barbosa, Description of the Coasts of East Africa and Malabar (Hakluyt Society, London, 1866), p. 8; id., in Records of Southeastern Africa, collected by G. McCall Theal, vol. i. (1898) p. 96; Damião de Goes, "Chronicle of King Dom Emanuel, the Most Fortunate," in Reports on South-Eastern Africa, collected by G. McCall Theal, vol. iii. (1899) pp. 130 sq. The name Benametapa (more correctly monomotapa) appears to have been the regular title of the paramount chief, which the Portuguese took to be the name of the country. The people over whom he ruled seem to have been the Bantu tribe of the Makalanga in the neighbourhood of Sofala. See G. McCall Theal, Records of South-Eastern Africa, vii. (1901) pp. 481-484. It is to their custom of annually extinguishing and relighting the fire that Montaigne refers in his essay (i. 22, vol. i. p. 140 of Charpentier's edition), though he mentions no names.
338.
Sir H. H. Johnson, British Central Africa (London, 1897), pp. 426, 439.
339.
W. H. R. Rivers, The Todas (London, 1906), pp. 290-292.
340.
Lieut. R. Stewart, “Notes on Northern Cachar,” Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, xxiv. (1855) p. 612.
341.
A. Bastian, The peoples of East Asia, ii. (Leipsic, 1866) pp. 49 sq.; Shway Yoe, The Burman (London, 1882), ii. 325 sq.
342.
G. Schlegel, Chinese Astronomical Chart (The Hague and Leyden, 1875), pp. 139-143; C. Puini, "Fire in the tradition of the ancient Chinese," Italian Asian Society Journal, i. (1887) pp. 20-23; J. J. M. de Groot, The Festivals celebrated annually in Émoui (Amoy) (Paris, 1886), i. 208 sqq. The notion that fire can be worn out with age meets us also in Brahman ritual. See the Satapatha Brahmana, translated by Julius Eggeling, Part i. (Oxford, 1882) p. 230 (Holy Books of the East, vol. xii.).
343.
W. G. Aston, Shinto, The Path of the Gods (London, 1905), pp. 258 sq., compare p. 193. The wands in question are sticks whittled near the top into a mass of adherent shavings; they go by the name of kedzurikake (“partially shaved”), and resemble the sacred inao of the Aino. See W. G. Aston, op. cit. p. 191; and as to the inao, see Spirits of the Corn and the Wild, ii. 185, with note 2.
344.
Ovid, Fasti, iii. 82; Homer, Iliad, i. 590, sqq.
345.
Philostratus, Heroica, xx. 24.
346.
Ovid, Calendar, iii. 143 sq.; Macrobius, Saturn. i. 12. 6.
347.
Festus, ed. C. O. Müller (Leipsic, 1839), p. 106, s.v. “Fire.” Plutarch describes a method of rekindling the sacred fire by means of the sun's rays reflected from a hollow mirror (Numa, 9); but he seems to be referring to a Greek rather than to the Roman custom. The rule of celibacy imposed on the Vestals, whose duty it was to relight the sacred fire as well as to preserve it when it was once made, is perhaps explained by a superstition current among French peasants that if a girl can blow up a smouldering candle into a flame she is a virgin, but that if she fails to do so, she is not. See Jules Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Countryside (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1883-1887), ii. 27; B. Souché, Beliefs, Omens, and Various Traditions (Niort, 1880), p. 12. At least it seems more likely that the rule sprang from a superstition of this sort than from a simple calculation of expediency, as I formerly suggested (*Journal of Philology*, xiv. (1885) p. 158). Compare The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 234 sqq.
348.
Geoffrey Keating, D.D., The History of Ireland, translated from the original Gaelic, with extensive annotations, by John O'Mahony (New York, 1857), p. 300, with the translator's note. Compare (Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London, 1888), pp. 514 sq.
349.
W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk Songs, Second Edition (London, 1872), pp. 254 sq.
350.
A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Norse Legends, Fairy Tales, and Customs (Leipsic, 1848), p. 373; A. Kuhn, Tales, Customs, and Legends from Westphalia (Leipsic, 1859), ii. 134 sqq.; id., Märkische Legends and Fairy Tales (Berlin, 1843), pp. 312 sq.; J. D. H. Temme, The Folk Tales of Altmark (Berlin, 1839), pp. 75 sq.; K. Lynker, German Myths and Customs in Hesse2 (Cassel and Göttingen, 1860), p. 240; H. Pröhle, Harzbilder (Leipsic, 1855), p. 63; R. Andree, Braunschweiger Folklore (Brunswick, 1896), pp. 240-242; W. Kolbe, Hessian Folk Customs and Traditions (Marburg, 1888), pp. 44-47; F. A. Reimann, German folk festivals (Weimar, 1839), p. 37; “Customs and Traditions in Duderstadt,” Journal of German Mythology and Customs, ii. (1855) p. 107; K. Seifart, Legends, fairy tales, anecdotes, and customs from the city and diocese of Hildesheim2 (Hildesheim, 1889), pp. 177, 180; O. Hartung, "On Folklore from Anhalt," Journal of the Association for Folklore, vii. (1897) p. 76.
351.
L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), ii. pp. 43 sq., § 313; W. Mannhardt, The tree worship of the Germans and their neighboring tribes (Berlin, 1875), pp. 505 sq.
352.
L. Strackerjan, op. cit. ii. p. 43, § 313.
353.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 (Berlin, 1875-1878), i. 512; W. Mannhardt, The tree cult of the Germans and their neighboring tribes, pp. 506 sq.
354.
H. Pröhle, Harzbilder (Leipsic, 1855), p. 63; id., in Journal of German Mythology and Customs, i. (1853) p. 79; A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Northeast German Legends, Tales, and Traditions (Leipsic, 1848), p. 373; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 507.
355.
A. Kuhn, Märkische Legends and Fairy Tales (Berlin, 1843), pp. 312 sq.; W. Mannhardt, l.c.
356.
W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 508. Compare J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen, 1852-1857), i. 74; J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 512. The two latter writers only state that before the fires were kindled it was customary to hunt squirrels in the woods.
357.
A. Kuhn, l.c.; W. Mannhardt, The tree worship, p. 508.
358.
Bavaria, Regional and Folk Studies of the Kingdom of Bavaria (Munich, 1860-1867), iii. 956.
359.
See above, pp. 116 sq., 119.
360.
F. Panzer, Contribution to German Mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), i. pp. 211 sq., § 233; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, pp. 507 sq.
361.
Bavaria, Regional and Folklore Studies of the Kingdom of Bavaria, iii. 357.
362.
F. Panzer, Contribution to German Mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), i. pp. 212 sq., § 236.
363.
F. Panzer, op. cit. ii. pp. 78 sq., §§ 114, 115. The customs observed at these places and at Althenneberg are described together by W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 505.
364.
A. Birlinger, Folklore from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), ii. p. 82, § 106; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 508.
365.
Elard Hugo Meyer, Baden Folk Life (Strasburg, 1900), pp. 97 sq.
366.
The Art of Magic and the Rise of Kings, ii. 349 sqq. See further below, vol. ii. pp. 298 sqq.
367.
J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology, i. 75 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 506.
368.
L. Lloyd, *Life of Farmers in Sweden* (London, 1870), p. 228.
369.
W. Müller, Contributions to the Folklore of the Germans in Moravia (Vienna and Olmütz, 1893), pp. 321, 397 sq. In Wagstadt, a town of Austrian Silesia, a boy in a red waistcoat used to play the part of Judas on the Wednesday before Good Friday. He was chased from before the church door by the other school children, who pursued him through the streets with shouts and the noise of rattles and clappers till they reached a certain suburb, where they always caught and beat him because he had betrayed the Redeemer. See Anton Peter, Folk culture from Austrian Silesia (Troppau, 1865-1867), ii. 282 sq.; Paul Drechsler, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in Silesia (Leipsic, 1903-1906), i. 77 sq.
370.
Scotland and Scotsmen in the 18th Century, from the MSS. of John Ramsay, Esq., of Ochtertyre, edited by Alexander Allardyce (Edinburgh and London, 1888), ii. 439-445. As to the tein-eigin or need-fire, see below, pp. 269 sqq. The etymology of the word Beltane is uncertain; the popular derivation of the first part from the Phoenician Baal is absurd. See, for example, John Graham Dalyell, Scotland's Darker Superstitions (Edinburgh, 1834), pp. 176 sq.: The recognition of the pagan god Baal, or Bel, the Sun, can be traced through many etymological sources. In Scottish history, up until the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries, numerous prohibitions came from church authorities against lighting Bailfires, which have a clear origin. The festival celebrating this god was still observed in Scotland until fairly recently. Modern scholars are not agreed as to the derivation of the name Beltane. See Rev. John Gregorson Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 268 sq.; J. A. MacCulloch, The Religion of the Ancient Celts (Edinburgh, 1911), p. 264.
371.
Bal-tein means the fire of Baal. Baal or Ball is the only word in Gaelic for a globe. This festival was likely in honor of the sun, whose return in its apparent annual journey they celebrated because it had a noticeable impact, through its warmth, on the earth's crops. The Caledonians showed a superstitious reverence for the sun, as many other cultures did, which is clear not only from the sacrifices at Baltein but in many other practices too. When a Highlander goes to bathe or to drink from a consecrated spring, they must always go around the area from east to west on the south side, mimicking the sun's daily movement. When the dead are buried, the grave is approached in the same way. The bride is brought to her future husband in front of the minister, and drinks are passed around a group following the path of the sun. This is referred to in Gaelic as going around the right, or the lucky way. The opposite direction is considered wrong, or the unlucky way. If someone’s food or drink were to choke them or obstruct their breath, they immediately shout deisheal!, which is a prayer that it goes the right way.” (Rev. J. Robertson, in Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Report on Scotland, xi. 621 note). Compare J. G. Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1900), pp. 229 sq.: “The Right-hand Turn (Deiseal).—This was the most significant of all the practices. The rule is ‘Deiseal (i.e. the right-hand turn) for everything,’ and it involves doing everything in a way that follows the sun’s movement, or from left to right. This is how screw-nails are driven, and many people do it simply for convenience. Old men in the Highlands were very particular about it. The coffin was taken deiseal around the grave when it was about to be lowered; boats were turned to face the sea in accordance with this, and drinks are still served this way today. When putting a straw rope on a house or corn stack, if the helper went tuaitheal (i.e. against the sun’s course), the old man would be ready to come down and scold him. When visiting a house, the visitor should walk around it deiseal to ensure good luck for their purpose. After milking a cow, the dairy maid should hit it deiseal with the shackle while saying ‘out and home’ (mach 'us dachaigh). This ensures the cow’s safe return. The word comes from deas, meaning right-hand, and iul, meaning direction, and by itself has no reference to the sun.” Compare M. Martin, “Description of the Western Islands of Scotland,” in J. Pinkerton's Journeys and Adventures, iii. 612 sq.: On the island of Lewis, there used to be an ancient tradition where families would create a fiery circle around their homes, crops, cattle, and so on. A man would hold fire in his right hand and walk around, a practice called dessil, deriving from the word for right hand, which in the old language is dess.... There’s another version of the dessil ritual, where fire is carried around women after they give birth before they are churched, and also around children until they are baptized. These rituals are usually performed in the morning and at night. Nowadays, only some of the traditional midwives practice this. I asked them why they continued this custom, which I said was completely unlawful; my comment upset them greatly, and they refused to explain further. However, others who were more agreeable told me that going around with fire was an effective way to protect both the mother and baby from evil spirits, who are believed to cause harm and sometimes even take the infant away. When spirits do take a child, they supposedly return them as weak, emaciated skeletons, and these children are said to have insatiable appetites, always craving meat. In cases where families believed their children had been taken in this way, it was customary to dig a grave in the fields on quarter-day and place the fairy skeleton there until the next morning, when the parents would return, hoping to find their real child instead of the skeleton. Some of the poorer folks on the islands still perform the custom of walking around their benefactors three times in a sunwise direction when they bless them, wishing them good fortune in their endeavors. Others are very careful that when they set out to sea, the boat is first rowed in a sunwise direction; if they don’t do this, they fear their voyage may end badly. Probably the superstition was based entirely on the supposed luckiness of the right hand, which accordingly, in making a circuit round an object, is kept towards the centre. As to a supposed worship of the sun among the Scottish Highlanders, compare J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, p. 304: Both the sun (a Ghrian) and moon (a Ghealach) are considered feminine in Gaelic, and their names basically describe how they look. There’s no sign of a Sun-God or Moon-Goddess. As to the etymology of Beltane, see above, p. 149 note.
372.
Rev. James Robertson (Parish Minister of Callander), in Sir John Sinclair's *Statistical Account of Scotland* (Edinburgh, 1791-1799), xi. 620 sq.
373.
Pennant's "Tour in Scotland" in John Pinkerton's Journeys and Adventures (London, 1808-1814), iii. 49.
374.
Rev. Dr. Thomas Bisset, in Sir John Sinclair's Statistics of Scotland, v. 84.
375.
Rev. Allan Stewart, in Sir John Sinclair's *Statistical Account of Scotland*, xv. 517 note.
376.
Rev. Walter Gregor, "Beltane Cake Notes," Folklore, vi. (1895) pp. 2 sq. The Beltane cakes with the nine knobs on them remind us of the cakes with twelve knobs which the Athenians offered to Cronus and other deities (see The Scapegoat, p. 351). The King of the Bean on Twelfth Night was chosen by means of a cake, which was broken in as many pieces as there were persons present, and the person who received the piece containing a bean or a coin became king. See J. Boemus, Customs, laws, and rituals of all peoples (Lyons, 1541), p. 222; John Brand, *Famous Historical Artifacts of Great Britain* (London, 1882-1883), i. 22 sq.; *The Scapegoat*, pp. 313 sqq.
377.
Shaw, in Pennant's “Scotland Tour” printed in J. Pinkerton's *Travel Adventures*, iii. 136. The part of Scotland to which Shaw's description applies is what he calls the province or country of Murray, extending from the river Spey on the east to the river Beauly on the west, and south-west to Loch Lochy.
378.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 167.
379.
A. Goodrich-Freer, "More Folklore from the Hebrides," Folklore, xiii. (1902) p. 41. The St. Michael's cake (Strùthan na h'eill Micheil), referred to in the text, is described as “the size of a grinder” in circumference. “It is simply kneaded with water, scored like a scone to divide it into four equal parts, and then placed in front of the fire on a quern. It’s not dusted with dry meal as is typical when making a cake, but once it’s cooked, a thin layer of eggs (four in total), mixed with buttermilk, is spread on one side, then the other, and it’s placed in front of the fire again. An earlier shape, still used, which tradition connects to women, is a triangle with the corners cut off. A strùthan or strùdhan (this word seems to refer to no other type of cake) is made for each member of the household, including servants and herds. When the harvest is late, an early patch of corn is mowed specifically for the strùthan.” (A. Goodrich-Freer, op. cit. pp. 44 sq.).
380.
Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), pp. 22-24.
381.
Jonathan Ceredig Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 76.
382.
Joseph Train, A Historical and Statistical Overview of the Isle of Man (Douglas, Isle of Man, 1845), i. 314 sq.
383.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 309; id., “The Coligny Calendar,” Proceedings of the British Academy, 1909-1910, pp. 261 sq. See further The Magical Arts and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 53 sq.
384.
Professor Frank Granger, "Prehistoric Humans," in The Victoria History of Nottinghamshire, edited by William Page, i. (London, 1906) pp. 186 sq.
385.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 310; id., “Manx Folklore and Superstitions,” Folklore, ii. (1891) pp. 303 sq.
386.
P. W. Joyce, A Social History of Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), i. 290 sq., referring to Kuno Meyer, Hibernia Minora, p. 49 and Glossary, 23.
387.
J. B. Bury, *The Life of St. Patrick* (London, 1905), pp. 104 sqq.
388.
Above, p. 147.
389.
Geoffrey Keating, D.D., Ireland's History, translated by John O'Mahony (New York, 1857), pp. 300 square
390.
(Sir) John Rhys, "Manx Folklore and Superstition," Folklore, ii. (1891) p. 303; id., Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 309. Compare P. W. Joyce, A Social History of Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), i. 291: “The tradition of driving cattle through fires to ward off disease on the night before May 1st and on the night before June 24th (St. John's Day) persisted in Ireland and the Scottish Highlands until quite recently.” In a footnote Mr. Joyce refers to Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica, ii. 340, for Scotland, and adds, "I saw it done in Ireland."
391.
L. Lloyd, Rural Life in Sweden (London, 1870), pp. 233 sq.
392.
Reinsberg - Düringsfeld, Festival Calendar from Bohemia (Prague, n.d.), pp. 211 sq.; Br. Jelínek, "Materials on the Prehistory and Folklore of Bohemia," Reports of the Anthropological Society in Vienna, xxi. (1891) p. 13; Alois John, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in German West Bohemia (Prague, 1905), p. 71.
393.
J. A. E. Köhler, Folk traditions, superstitions, legends, and other old customs in the Voigtland (Leipsic, 1867), p. 373. The superstitions relating to witches at this season are legion. For instance, in Saxony and Thuringia any one who labours under a physical blemish can easily rid himself of it by transferring it to the witches on Walpurgis Night. He has only to go out to a cross-road, make three crosses on the blemish, and say, "In the name of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Thus the blemish, whatever it may be, is left behind him at the cross-road, and when the witches sweep by on their way to the Brocken, they must take it with them, and it sticks to them henceforth. Moreover, three crosses chalked up on the doors of houses and cattle-stalls on Walpurgis Night will effectually prevent any of the infernal crew from entering and doing harm to man or beast. See E. Sommer, Tales, legends, and customs from Saxony and Thuringia (Halle, 1846), pp. 148 sq.; The groomed rock philosophy (Chemnitz, 1759), p. 116.
394.
See The Scapegoat, pp. 158 sqq.
395.
As to the Midsummer Festival of Europe in general see the evidence collected in the "Calendar of Gentilis Specimen," appended to the Edda Rhythmica, also known as the older or Saemundina version, Pars iii. (Copenhagen, 1828) pp. 1086-1097.
396.

John Mitchell Kemble, The Saxons in England, New Edition (London, 1876), i. 361 sq., quoting “an ancient MS. written in England, and now in the Harleian Collection, No. 2345, fol. 50.” The passage is quoted in part by J. Brand, Popular Antiquities of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 298 sq., by R. T. Hampson, Medii Aevi Kalendarium (London, 1841), i. 300, and by W. Mannhardt, Der Baumkultus, p. 509. The same explanations of the Midsummer fires and of the custom of trundling a burning wheel on Midsummer Eve are given also by John Beleth, a writer of the twelfth century. See his Rationale Divinorum Officiorum (appended to the Rationale Divinorum Officiorum of G. [W.] Durandus, Lyons, 1584), p. 556 recto: Solent porro hoc tempore [the Eve of St. John the Baptist] ex veteri consuetudine mortuorum animalium ossa comburi, quod hujusmodi habet originem. Sunt enim animalia, quae dracones appellamus.... Haec inquam animalia in aere volant, in aquis natant, in terra ambulant. Sed quando in aere ad libidinem concitantur (quod fere fit) saepe ipsum sperma vel in puteos, vel in aquas fluviales ejiciunt ex quo lethalis sequitur annus. Adversus haec ergo hujusmodi inventum est remedium, ut videlicet rogus ex ossibus construeretur, et ita fumus hujusmodi animalia fugaret. Et quia istud maxime hoc tempore fiebat, idemetiam modo ab omnibus observatur.... Consuetum item est hac vigilia ardentes deferri faculas quod Johannes fuerit ardens lucerna, et qui vias Domini praeparaverit. Sed quod etiam rota vertatur hinc esse putant quia in eum circulum tunc Sol descenderit ultra quem progredi nequit, a quo cogitur paulatim descendere. The substance of the passage is repeated in other words by G. Durandus (Wilh. Durantis), a writer of the thirteenth century, in his Rationale Divinorum Officiorum, lib. vii. cap. 14 (p. 442 verso, ed. Lyons, 1584). Compare J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie,4 i. 516.

John Mitchell Kemble, The Saxons in England, New Edition (London, 1876), i. 361 sq., quoting "an old manuscript written in England, now part of the Harleian Collection, No. 2345, page 50." The passage is partially quoted by J. Brand, *Popular Antiquities of Great Britain* (London, 1882-1883), i. 298 sq., by R. T. Hampson, Medieval Calendar (London, 1841), i. 300, and by W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 509. The same explanations of the Midsummer fires and the custom of rolling a burning wheel on Midsummer Eve are also provided by John Beleth, a writer from the twelfth century. See his Rationale of Divine Offices (added to the Rationale of Divine Offices of G. [W.] Durandus, Lyons, 1584), p. 556 front: "During this time, the Eve of St. John the Baptist, it has been an old tradition to burn the bones of dead animals, which has this origin. There are creatures that we call dragons... These creatures fly in the air, swim in the waters, and walk on the earth. But when they become excited in the air (which often happens), they frequently release their sperm into wells or rivers, leading to a deadly year. To counter this, a remedy has been found: to build a pyre from bones so that the smoke can drive away these creatures. Since this was primarily done at this time, it is still observed by everyone today... It is also customary on this vigil to carry burning torches because John was a shining light and prepared the ways of the Lord. Additionally, it is thought that the wheel turns because the sun descended into that circle at which it cannot progress further, and from there it is forced to gradually descend." The main idea of the passage is expressed in different words by G. Durandus (Wilh. Durantis), a writer from the thirteenth century, in his Rationale of Divine Offices, lib. vii. cap. 14 (p. 442 back, ed. Lyons, 1584). Compare J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 516.

With the notion that the air is poisoned at midsummer we may compare the popular belief that it is similarly infected at an eclipse. Thus among the Esquimaux on the Lower Yukon river in Alaska “it is believed that a subtle essence or unclean influence descends to the earth during an eclipse, and if any of it is caught in utensils of any kind it will produce sickness. As a result, immediately on the commencement of an eclipse, every woman turns bottom side up all her pots, wooden buckets, and dishes” (E. W. Nelson, “The Eskimo about Bering Strait,” Eighteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1899) p. 431). Similar notions and practices prevail among the peasantry of southern Germany. Thus the Swabian peasants think that during an eclipse of the sun poison falls on the earth; hence at such a time they will not sow, mow, gather fruit or eat it, they bring the cattle into the stalls, and refrain from business of every kind. If the eclipse lasts long, the people get very anxious, set a burning candle on the mantel-shelf of the stove, and pray to be delivered from the danger. See Anton Birlinger, Volksthümliches aus Schwaben (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), i. 189. Similarly Bavarian peasants imagine that water is poisoned during a solar eclipse (F. Panzer, Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie, ii. 297); and Thuringian bumpkins cover up the wells and bring the cattle home from pasture during an eclipse either of the sun or of the moon; an eclipse is particularly poisonous when it happens to fall on a Wednesday. See August Witzschel, Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Thüringen (Vienna, 1878), p. 287. As eclipses are commonly supposed by the ignorant to be caused by a monster attacking the sun or moon (E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture,2 London, 1873, i. 328 sqq.), we may surmise, on the analogy of the explanation given of the Midsummer fires, that the unclean influence which is thought to descend on the earth at such times is popularly attributed to seed discharged by the monster or possibly by the sun or moon then in conjunction with each other.

With the idea that the air is toxic during midsummer, we can compare it to the common belief that it’s similarly polluted during an eclipse. For example, among the Inuit on the Lower Yukon River in Alaska, "It is thought that a subtle essence or unclean influence comes down to earth during an eclipse, and if any of it gets caught in any utensils, it will lead to sickness. Therefore, as soon as an eclipse starts, every woman flips all her pots, wooden buckets, and dishes upside down." (E. W. Nelson, “The Inuit near Bering Strait,” 18th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1899) p. 431). Similar beliefs and practices are found among the farmers of southern Germany. For instance, Swabian peasants think that during a solar eclipse, poison falls to the ground; therefore, during such times, they won’t sow, mow, gather fruit, or eat it. They bring the cattle into the stalls and avoid any kind of work. If the eclipse lasts a long time, people become very anxious, place a burning candle on the mantel of the stove, and pray for safety. See Anton Birlinger, Folk Culture from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), i. 189. Similarly, Bavarian peasants believe that water is contaminated during a solar eclipse (F. Panzer, Contribution to German Mythology, ii. 297); and Thuringian villagers cover wells and bring cattle home from pastures during eclipses of either the sun or the moon, especially if the eclipse occurs on a Wednesday. See August Witzschel, Legends, customs, and traditions from Thuringia (Vienna, 1878), p. 287. Since ignorant people commonly think eclipses happen because a monster is attacking the sun or moon (E. B. Tylor, Early Society,2 London, 1873, i. 328 sqq.), we can guess, based on the explanations for the Midsummer fires, that the unclean influence believed to descend to the earth at these times is popularly thought to come from seeds released by the monster, or perhaps by the sun or moon when they are aligned.

397.
The Popish Kingdom or Reign of Antichrist, written in Latin verse by Thomas Naogeorgus and translated into English by Barnabe Googe, 1570, edited by R. C. Hope (London, 1880), p. 54 verse. As to this work see above, p. 125 note 1.
398.
J. Boemus, Customs, laws, and rituals of all nations (Lyons, 1541), pp. 225 sq.
399.
Tessier, "At the annual celebration of the blazing wheel of Saint-Jean in Basse-Kontz, Thionville district," Memoirs and dissertations published by the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, v. (1823) pp. 379-393. Tessier witnessed the ceremony, 23rd June 1822 (not 1823, as is sometimes stated). His account has been reproduced more or less fully by J. Grimm (German Mythology,4 i. 515 sq.), W. Mannhardt (Tree worship, pp. 510 sq.), and H. Gaidoz (“The Gallic god of the Sun and the symbolism of the Wheel,” Archaeological Review, iii. Série, iv. (1884) pp. 24 sq.).
400.
Bavaria, Regional and Cultural Studies of the Kingdom of Bavaria (Munich, 1860-1867), i. 373 sq.; compare ibid., iii. 327 sq. As to the burning discs at the spring festivals, see above, pp. 116 sq., 119, 143.
401.
Same source as above. ii. 260 sq., iii. 936, 956, iv. 2. p. 360.
402.
Op. cit. ii. 260.
403.
Same source iv. 1. p. 242. We have seen (p. 163) that in the sixteenth century these customs and beliefs were common in Germany. It is also a German superstition that a house which contains a brand from the midsummer bonfire will not be struck by lightning (J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology, i. p. 217, § 185).
404.
J. Boemus, Customs, laws, and rituals of all nations (Lyons, 1541), p. 226.
405.
Karl Freiherr von Leoprechting, From the Lechrain (Munich, 1855), pp. 181 sqq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 510.
406.
A. Birlinger, Folklore from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), ii. pp. 96 sqq., § 128, pp. 103 sq., § 129; id., From Swabia (Wiesbaden, 1874), ii. 116-120; E. Meier, German legends, customs, and traditions from Swabia (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 423 sqq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 510.
407.
F. Panzer, Contribution to German Mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), i. pp. 215 sq., § 242; id., ii. 549.
408.
A. Birlinger, Folk traditions from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), ii. 99-101.
409.
Elard Hugo Mayer, Baden Popular Life (Strasburg, 1900), pp. 103 sq., 225 sq.
410.
W. von Schulenberg, in Proceedings of the Berlin Society for Anthropology, Ethnology, and Prehistory, Year 1897, pp. 494 sq. (bound up with Journal of Ethnology, xxix. 1897).
411.
H. Gaidoz, "The Gallic god of the Sun and the symbolism of the Wheel," Archaeological Review, iii. Série, iv. (1884) pp. 29 sq.
412.
Bruno Stehle, "Popular beliefs, customs, and traditions in Lorraine," Globe, lix. (1891) pp. 378 sq.; "Summer solstice celebration in St. Amarinthale," The Original Source, N.F., i. (1897) pp. 181 sqq.
413.
J. H. Schmitz, Customs and Legends, Songs, Proverbs, and Riddles of the Eifel People (Treves, 1856-1858), i. 40 sq. According to one writer, the garlands are composed of St. John's wort (Montanus, The German folk festivals, folk customs, and German folk beliefs, Iserlohn, n.d., p. 33). As to the use of St. John's wort at Midsummer, see below, vol. ii. pp. 54 sqq.
414.
A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Northern German Legends, Fairy Tales, and Traditions (Leipsic, 1848), p. 390.
415.
Montanus, The German folk festivals, folk traditions, and German folk beliefs (Iserlohn, n.d.), pp. 33 sq.
416.
C. L. Rochholz, German Belief and Tradition (Berlin, 1867), ii. 144 sqq.
417.
Philo vom Walde, Silesia in Legend and Custom (Berlin, n.d.), p. 124; Paul Drechsler, Customs, Traditions, and Folklore in Silesia (Leipsic, 1903-1906), i. 136 sq.
418.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 517 sq.
419.

From information supplied by Mr. Sigurd K. Heiberg, engineer, of Bergen, Norway, who in his boyhood regularly collected fuel for the fires. I have to thank Miss Anderson, of Barskimming, Mauchline, Ayrshire, for kindly procuring the information for me from Mr. Heiberg.

From information provided by Mr. Sigurd K. Heiberg, an engineer from Bergen, Norway, who regularly gathered fuel for the fires during his childhood, I owe my thanks to Miss Anderson, of Barskimming, Mauchline, Ayrshire, for kindly getting this information from Mr. Heiberg for me.

The Blocksberg, where German as well as Norwegian witches gather for their great Sabbaths on the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night) and Midsummer Eve, is commonly identified with the Brocken, the highest peak of the Harz mountains. But in Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and probably elsewhere, villages have their own local Blocksberg, which is generally a hill or open place in the neighbourhood; a number of places in Pomerania go by the name of the Blocksberg. See J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie,4 ii. 878 sq.; Ulrich Jahn, Hexenwesen und Zauberei in Pommern (Breslau, 1886), pp. 4 sq.; id., Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen (Stettin, 1886), p. 329.

The Blocksberg, where both German and Norwegian witches meet for their big celebrations on the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night) and Midsummer Eve, is usually associated with the Brocken, the highest peak in the Harz mountains. However, in Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and probably other regions, villages have their own local Blocksberg, typically a hill or an open area nearby; several places in Pomerania are named Blocksberg. See J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 ii. 878 sq.; Ulrich Jahn, Witchcraft and Sorcery in Pomerania (Breslau, 1886), pp. 4 sq.; id., Folktales from Pomerania and Rügen (Stettin, 1886), p. 329.

420.
L. Lloyd, *Peasant Life in Sweden* (London, 1870), pp. 259, 265.
421.
L. Lloyd, op. cit. pp. 261 sq. These springs are called “donation forms” (Offer sources) and are "named this because in ancient times, the limbs of the slaughtered victim, whether human or animal, were washed here before being offered up in sacrifice" (L. Lloyd, op. cit. p. 261).
422.
E. Hoffmann-Krayer, Festivals and Traditions of the Swiss People (Zurich, 1913), p. 164.
423.
Ignaz V. Zingerle, Customs, Traditions, and Opinions of the Tyrolean People2 (Innsbruck, 1871), ii. p. 159, § 1354.
424.
I. V. Zingerle, op. cit. p. 159, §§ 1353, 1355, 1356; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 513.
425.
W. Mannhardt, l.c.
426.
F. Panzer, Contribution to German mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), i. p. 210, § 231.
427.
Theodor Vernaleken, Myths and Traditions of the People in Austria (Vienna, 1859), pp. 307 sq.
428.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 519; Theodor Vernaleken, Myths and Traditions of the People in Austria (Vienna, 1859), p. 308; Joseph Virgil Grohmann, Superstitions and Customs from Bohemia and Moravia (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 80, § 636; Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Festival calendar from Bohemia (Prague, n.d.), pp. 306-311; Br. Jelínek, “Materials on the Prehistory and Folklore of Bohemia,” Communications of the Anthropological Society in Vienna, xxi. (1891) p. 13; Alois John, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in German Bohemia (Prague, 1905), pp. 84-86.
429.
Willibald Müller, Contributions to the Folklore of the Germans in Moravia (Vienna and Olmutz, 1893), pp. 263-265.
430.
Anton Peter, Folklore from Austrian Silesia (Troppau, 1865-1867), ii. 287.
431.
Th. Vernaleken, Myths and Traditions of the People in Austria (Vienna, 1859), pp. 308 sq.
432.
The Dying God, p. 262. Compare M. Kowalewsky, in Folklore, i. (1890) p. 467.
433.
W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk Songs, Second Edition (London, 1872), p. 240.
434.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 519; W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk Songs (London, 1872), pp. 240, 391.
435.
W. R. S. Ralston, op. cit. p. 240.
436.
W. R. S. Ralston, l.c.
437.
W. J. A. von Tettau und J. D. H. Temme, The Folk Tales of East Prussia, Lithuania, and West Prussia (Berlin, 1837), p. 277.
438.
M. Töppen, Superstitions from Masuria2 (Danzig, 1867), p. 71.
439.
F. S. Krauss, "Slavic fire production," Globe, lix. (1891) p. 318.
440.
J. G. Kohl, Die German-Russian Baltic provinces (Dresden and Leipsic, 1841), i. 178-180, ii. 24 sq. Ligho was an old heathen deity, whose joyous festival used to fall in spring.
441.
Ovid, Calendar, vi. 775 sqq.
442.
Friederich S. Krauss, Customs and Traditions of the South Slavs (Vienna, 1885), pp. 176 sq.
443.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 519.
444.
H. von Wlislocki, Popular beliefs and religious customs of the Magyars (Münster i. W., 1893), pp. 40-44.
445.
A. von Ipolyi, "Contributions to German Mythology from Hungary," Journal of German Mythology and Customs, i. (1853) pp. 270 sq.
446.
J.G. Kohl, The German-Russian Baltic provinces, ii. 268 sq.; F. J. Wiedemann, From the inner and outer life of the Ehsten (St. Petersburg, 1876), p. 362. The word which I have translated weeds is in Esthonian kaste-heinad, in German Thaugras. Apparently it is the name of a special kind of weed.
447.
Fr. Kreutzwald und H. Neus, Mythical and Magical Songs of the Ancients (St. Petersburg, 1854), p. 62.
448.
J. B. Holzmayer, "Osiliana," Proceedings of the Learned Estonian Society in Tartu, vii. (1872) pp. 62 sq. Wiedemann also observes that the sports in which young couples engage in the woods on this evening are not always decorous (From the inner and outer life of the Ehsten, p. 362).
449.
J. G. Kohl, The German-Russian Baltic Provinces, ii. 447 sq.
450.
J. G. Georgi, Description of all the nations of the Russian Empire (St. Petersburg, 1776), p. 36; August Freiherr von Haxthausen, Studies on the inner conditions of public life, especially the rural institutions of Russia (Hanover, 1847), i. 446
451.
Alfred de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 19.
452.
It is notable that St. John is the only saint whose birthday the Church celebrates with honours like those which she accords to the nativity of Christ. Compare Edmond Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa (Algiers, 1908), p. 571 note 1.
453.
Bossuet, Works (Versailles, 1815-1819), vi. 276 (“Catechism of the Diocese of Meaux”). His description of the superstitions is, in his own words, as follows: Dancing around the fire, playing games, having feasts, singing naughty songs, throwing herbs over the fire, picking them before noon or while fasting, carrying them on oneself, preserving them throughout the year, keeping embers or coals from the fire, and other similar activities. This and other evidence of the custom of kindling Midsummer bonfires in France is cited by Ch. Cuissard in his tract Saint-Jean Fires (Orleans, 1884).
454.
Ch. Cuissard, Saint John’s Fire (Orleans, 1884), pp. 40 sq.
455.
A. Le Braz, The Legend of Death in Lower Brittany (Paris, 1893), p. 279. For an explanation of the custom of throwing a pebble into the fire, see below, p. 240.
456.
M. Quellien, quoted by Alexandre Bertrand, The Religion of the Gauls (Paris, 1897), pp. 116 sq.
457.
Collin de Plancy, Infernal Dictionary (Paris, 1825-1826), iii. 40; J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen, 1852-1857), i. p. 217, § 185; A. Breuil, “On the Cult of St. John the Baptist,” Memoirs of the Society of Antiquaries of Picardy, viii. (Amiens, 1845) pp. 189 sq.
458.
Eugène Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays (Paris, 1867), p. 216; Ch. Cuissard, Saint-Jean Fire Festival (Orleans, 1884), p. 24.
459.
Paul Sébillot, Folk Customs of Upper Brittany (Paris, 1886), pp. 192-195. In Upper Brittany these bonfires are called rieux or raviers.
460.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Regions of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 219; E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays, p. 216.
461.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France, pp. 219, 228, 231; E. Cortet, cited work pp. 215 sq.
462.
J. Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Woods (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1883-1887), ii. 219-224.
463.
This description is quoted by Madame Clément (History of Civil and Religious Celebrations, etc., Southern Belgium, Avesnes, 1846, pp. 394-396); F. Liebrecht (The Leisure of Gervasius von Tilbury, Hanover, 1856, pp. 209 sq.); and W. Mannhardt (Ancient forest and field cults, Berlin, 1877, pp. 323 sqq.) from the Scenic magazine, Paris, viii. (1840) pp. 287 sqq. A slightly condensed account is given, from the same source, by E. Cortet (Essay on Religious Holidays, pp. 221 sq.).
464.
Bazin, quoted by Breuil, in Memoirs of the Society of Antiquaries of Picardy, viii. (1845) p. 191 note.
465.
Correspondents quoted by A. Bertrand, The Religion of the Gauls (Paris, 1897), pp. 118, 406.
466.
Correspondent quoted by A. Bertrand, op. cit. p. 407.
467.
Felix Chapiseau, The Folklore of Beauce and Perche (Paris, 1902), i. 318-320. In Perche the midsummer bonfires were called marolles. As to the custom formerly observed at Bullou, near Chateaudun, see a correspondent quoted by A. Bertrand, The Religion of the Gauls (Paris, 1897), p. 117.
468.
Albert Meyrac, Traditions, Customs, Legends, and Tales of the Ardennes (Charleville, 1890), pp. 88 sq.
469.
L. F. Sauvé, Le Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges (Paris, 1889), p. 186.
470.
Désiré Monnier, Comparing popular traditions (Paris, 1854), pp. 207 sqq.; E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Festivals, pp. 217 sq.
471.
Bérenger-Féraud, Popular Memories of Provence (Paris, 1885), p. 142.
472.
Charles Beauquier, Months in Franche-Comté (Paris, 1900), p. 89. The names of the bonfires vary with the place; among them are flaws, bourdifailles, bās or bux, feulères or folières, and chavannes.
473.
La Bresse Louhannaise, Juin, 1906, p. 207.
474.
Laisnel de la Salle, Beliefs and Legends of Central France (Paris, 1875), i. 78 sqq. The writer adopts the absurd derivation of jônée from Janus. Needless to say that our old friend Baal, Bel, or Belus figures prominently in this and many other accounts of the European fire-festivals.
475.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 150.
476.
Correspondent, quoted by A. Bertrand, The Religion of the Gauls (Paris, 1897), p. 408.
477.
Guerry, "On the customs and traditions of Poitou," Memories and dissertations published by the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, viii. (1829) pp. 451 sq.
478.
Breuil, in Memoirs of the Picardie Antiquarians Society, viii. (1845) p. 206; E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays, p. 216; Laisnel de la Salle, Beliefs and Legends of Central France, i. 83; J. Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Countryside, ii. 225.
479.
H. Gaidoz, "The Gallic god of the sun and the symbolism of the wheel," Archaeological Review, iii. Série, iv. (1884) p. 26, note 3.
480.
L. Pineau, *The Folklore of Poitou* (Paris, 1892), pp. 499 sq. In Périgord the ashes of the midsummer bonfire are searched for the hair of the Virgin (E. Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays, p. 219).
481.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France, pp. 149 sq.; E. Cortet, op. cit. pp. 218 sq.
482.
Dupin, “Notice about some popular festivals and entertainments in the Deux-Sèvres department,” Memoirs and Dissertations published by the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, iv. (1823) p. 110.
483.
J. L. M. Noguès, The customs of the past in Saintonge and Aunis (Saintes, 1891), pp. 72, 178 sq.
484.
H. Gaidoz, “Ra, the sun god and the symbolism of the wheel,” Archaeological Review, iii. Série, iv. (1884) p. 30.
485.
Ch. Cuissard, St. John's Fire (Orleans, 1884), pp. 22 sq.
486.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France, p. 127.
487.
Aubin-Louis Millin, Journey through the Southern Departments of France (Paris, 1807-1811), iii. 341 sq.
488.
Aubin-Louis Millin, op. cit. iii. 28.
489.
A. de Nore, op. cit. pp. 19 sq.; Bérenger-Féraud, Popular Memories of Provence (Paris, 1885), pp. 135-141. As to the custom at Toulon, see Poncy, quoted by Breuil, Memoirs of the Society of Antiquaries of Picardy, viii. (1845) p. 190 note. The custom of drenching people on this occasion with water used to prevail in Toulon, as well as in Marseilles and other towns in the south of France. The water was squirted from syringes, poured on the heads of passers-by from windows, and so on. See Breuil, op. cit. pp. 237 sq.
490.
A. de Nore, op. cit. pp. 20 sq.; E. Cortet, op. cit. pp. 218, 219 sq.
491.
Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Belgian Calendar (Brussels, 1861-1862), i. 416 square, 439.
492.
Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, cit. i. 439-442.
493.
Madame Clément, History of Civil and Religious Celebrations, etc., of the North Department (Cambrai, 1836), p. 364; J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen, 1852-1857), ii. 392; W. Mannhardt, Tree Worship, p. 513.
494.
E. Monseur, Walloon Folklore (Brussels, n.d.), p. 130, §§ 1783, 1786, 1787.
495.
Joseph Strutt, The Sports and Activities of the People of England, New Edition, by W. Hone (London, 1834), p. 359.
496.
John Stow, *Survey of London*, edited by Henry Morley (London, n.d.), pp. 126 sq. Stow's Survey was written in 1598.
497.
John Brand, Famous Artifacts of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 338; T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British Popular Traditions (London, 1876), p. 331. Both writers refer to Eton College Status (a.d. 1560).
498.
John Aubrey, *Remains of Gentilism and Judaism* (London, 1881), p. 26.
499.
J. Brand, Famous Historical Artifacts of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 300 sq., 318, compare pp. 305, 306, 308 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 512. Compare W. Hutchinson, *View of Northumberland*, vol. ii. (Newcastle, 1778), Appendix, p. (15), under the head “Mid-summer”:—“It’s common to light fires on the tops of high hills and in the villages, and to celebrate and dance around them; this tradition dates back to very ancient times, with its origins lost in the past.”
500.
Dr. Lyttelton, Bishop of Carlisle, quoted by William Borlase, Ancient Artifacts, Historical Sites, and Landmarks of the County of Cornwall (London, 1769), p. 135 note.
501.
County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour (London, 1904), p. 76, quoting E. Mackenzie, A Historical, Topographical, and Descriptive Overview of Northumberland County, Second Edition (Newcastle, 1825), i. 217.
502.
County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour, p. 75.
503.
County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour, p. 75.
504.
The Denham Tracts, edited by J. Hardy (London, 1892-1895), ii. 342 squared, quoting *Archaeologia Aeliana*, N.S., viii. 73, and the Proceedings of the Berwickshire Naturalists' Club, vi. 242 sq.; County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour (London, 1904), pp. 75 sq. Whalton is a village of Northumberland, not far from Morpeth.
505.
County Folklore, vol. vi. East Riding of Yorkshire, collected and edited by Mrs. Gutch (London, 1912), p. 102.
506.
John Aubrey, Remains of Gentilism and Judaism (London, 1881), p. 96, compare id., p. 26.
507.
J. Brand, Popular Antiquities of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 311.
508.
William Borlase, LL.D., *Antiquities, Historical and Monumental, of the County of Cornwall* (London, 1769), pp. 135 sq. The Eve of St. Peter is June 28th. Bonfires have been lit elsewhere on the Eve or the day of St. Peter. See above, pp. 194 sq., 196 sq., and below, pp. 199 sq., 202, 207.
509.
J. Brand, op. cit. i. 318, 319; T. F. Thiselton Dyer, UK Popular Customs (London, 1876), p. 315.
510.
William Bottrell, Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall (Penzance, 1870), pp. 8 sq., 55 sq.; James Napier, Folklore, or Superstitious Beliefs in the West of Scotland (Paisley, 1879), p. 173.
511.
Richard Edmonds, *Land's End District* (London, 1862), pp. 66 square; Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England, Third Edition (London, 1881), pp. 207 sq.
512.
Marie Trevelyan, Folklore and Stories of Wales (London, 1909), pp. 27 sq. Compare Jonathan Ceredig Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 76.
513.
J. Brand, Famous Historical Artifacts of Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 318.
514.
Joseph Train, Report on the Isle of Man (Douglas, Isle of Man, 1845), ii. 120.
515.
Sir Henry Piers, Description of Westmeath County, written in 1682, published by (General) Charles Vallancey, Collection on Irish Matters, i. (Dublin, 1786) pp. 123 sq.
516.
J. Brand, Famous Old Artifacts of Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 303, quoting the author of the Survey of Southern Ireland, p. 232.
517.
J. Brand, op. cit. i. 305, quoting the author of the *Funny Pilgrim's Journey to Ireland* (1723), p. 92.
518.
The Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxv. (London, 1795) pp. 124 sq. The writer dates the festival on June 21st, which is probably a mistake.
519.
T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British Traditions (London, 1876), pp. 321 sq., quoting the Liverpool Mercury of June 29th, 1867.
520.
L. L. Duncan, "Additional Notes from County Leitrim," Folklore, v. (1894) p. 193.
521.
A. C. Haddon, “A Collection of Irish Folklore,” Folklore, iv. (1893) pp. 351, 359.
522.
G. H. Kinahan, "Irish Folklore Notes," Folk Lore Record, iv. (1881) p. 97.
523.
Charlotte Elizabeth, Personal Memories, quoted by Rev. Alexander Hislop, *The Two Babylons* (Edinburgh, 1853), p. 53.
524.
Lady Wilde, Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland, (London, 1887), i. 214 sq.
525.
T. F. Thiselton Dyer, UK Culture Trends (London, 1876), pp. 322 sq., quoting the , July 1817. As to the worship of wells in ancient Ireland, see P. W. Joyce, A Social History of Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), i. 288 sq., 366 sqq.
526.
Rev. A. Johnstone, describing the parish of Monquhitter in Perthshire, in Sir John Sinclair's *Statistical Account of Scotland* (Edinburgh, 1791-1799), xxi. 145. Mr. W. Warde Fowler writes that in Scotland "Before the bonfires were lit on midsummer eve, the houses were decorated with greenery brought from the woods." (Roman Festivals During the Republic, London, 1899, pp. 80 sq.). For his authority he refers to *Chambers' Journal*, July, 1842.
527.
John Ramsay, of Ochtertyre, Scotland and Scots in the 18th Century, edited by A. Allardyce (Edinburgh, 1888), ii. 436.
528.
Rev. Mr. Shaw, Minister of Elgin, in Pennant's "Tour in Scotland," printed in John Pinkerton's *Adventures and Journeys* (London, 1808-1814), iii. 136.
529.
A. Macdonald, “Midsummer Bonfires” Folklore, xv. (1904) pp. 105 sq.
530.
From notes kindly furnished to me by the Rev. J. C. Higgins, parish minister of Tarbolton. Mr. Higgins adds that he knows of no superstition connected with the fire, and no tradition of its origin. I visited the scene of the bonfire in 1898, but, as Pausanias says (viii. 41. 6) in similar circumstances, "I didn't happen to arrive during the festival season." Indeed the snow was falling thick as I trudged to the village through the beautiful woods of "Montgomery Castle" immortalized by Burns. From a notice in The Scotsman of 26th June, 1906 (p. 8) it appears that the old custom was observed as usual that year.
531.
Thomas Moresinus, The Origin and Growth of Corrupted Religion (Edinburgh, 1594), p. 56.
532.
Rev. Dr. George Lawrie, in Sir John Sinclair's *Statistical Account of Scotland*, iii. (Edinburgh, 1792) p. 105.
533.
Letter from Dr. Otero Acevado of Madrid, published in *Le Temps*, September 1898. An extract from the newspaper was sent me, but without mention of the day of the month when it appeared. The fires on St. John's Eve in Spain are mentioned also by J. Brand, Famous Historical Artifacts of Great Britain, i. 317. Jacob Grimm inferred the custom from a passage in a romance (German Mythology,4 i. 518). The custom of washing or bathing on the morning of St. John's Day is mentioned by the Spanish historian Diego Duran, History of the Indies of New Spain, edited by J. F. Ramirez (Mexico, 1867-1880), vol. ii. p. 293. To roll in the dew on the morning of St. John's Day is a cure for diseases of the skin in Normandy, Périgord, and the Abruzzi, as well as in Spain. See J. Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Underbrush, ii. 8; A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France, p. 150; Gennaro Finamore, Beliefs, Customs, and Traditions of Abruzzo (Palermo, 1890), p. 157.
534.
M. Longworth Dames and Mrs. E. Seemann, “Azores Folklore,” Folk culture, xiv. (1903) pp. 142 sq.; Theophilo Braga, The Portuguese People in Their Customs, Beliefs, and Traditions (Lisbon, 1885), ii. 304 sq., 307 sq.
535.
See below, pp. 234 sqq.
536.
Angelo de Gubernatis, Mythology of Plants (Paris, 1878-1882), i. 185 note 1.
537.
Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp. 202 sq.
538.
G. Finamore, Abruzzese Beliefs, Customs, and Traditions (Palermo, 1890), pp. 154 square
539.
G. Finamore, Beliefs, Customs, and Traditions of Abruzzo, pp. 158-160. We may compare the Provençal and Spanish customs of bathing and splashing water at midsummer. See above, pp. 193 sq., 208.
540.
Giuseppe Pitrè, Sicilian Popular Shows and Festivals (Palermo, 1881), pp. 246, 308 square; id., Uses and Customs, Beliefs and Prejudices of the Sicilian People (Palermo, 1889), pp. 146 sq.
541.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 518.
542.
V. Busuttil, Holiday Traditions in Malta, and Sports, Practices, Ceremonies, Omens, and Superstitions of the Maltese People (Malta, 1894), pp. 56 sqq. The extract was kindly sent to me by Mr. H. W. Underwood (letter dated 14th November, 1902, Birbeck Bank Chambers, Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane, W.C.). See Folklore, xiv. (1903) pp. 77 sq.
543.
W. R. Paton, in Folklore, ii. (1891) p. 128. The custom was reported to me when I was in Greece in 1890 (Folklore, i. (1890) p. 520).
544.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 519.
545.
G. Georgeakis et L. Pineau, The Folklore of Lesbos (Paris, 1894), pp. 308 sq.
546.
W. R. Paton, in Folklore, vi. (1895) p. 94. From the stones cast into the fire omens may perhaps be drawn, as in Scotland, Wales, and probably Brittany. See above, p. 183, and below, pp. 230 sq., 239, 240.
547.
W. H. D. Rouse, “Southern Sporades Folklore,” Folklore, x. (1899) p. 179.
548.
Lucy M. J. Garnett, The Women of Turkey and their Folklore, the Christian Women (London, 1890), p. 122; G. F. Abbott, Macedonian Folklore (Cambridge, 1903), p. 57.
549.
J. G. von Hahn, Albanian Studies (Jena, 1854), i. 156.
550.
K. von den Steinen, Among the Indigenous Peoples of Central Brazil (Berlin, 1894), p. 561.
551.
Alcide d'Orbigny, Journey through South America, ii. (Paris and Strasbourg, 1839-1843), p. 420; D. Forbes, "About the Aymara Indians of Bolivia and Peru," Journal of the Ethnological Society of London, ii. (1870) p. 235.
552.
Edmond Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa (Algiers, 1908), pp. 566 sq. For an older but briefer notice of the Midsummer fires in North Africa, see Giuseppe Ferraro, Superstitions, Customs and Proverbs from Monferrato (Palermo, 1886), pp. 34 sq.: In Algeria, among the Muslims, and in Morocco, as Alvise da Cadamosto mentions in his Relazione dei viaggi d'Africa, which can be found in Ramusio, people used to celebrate with large festivities on St. John's Night. They lit huge straw fires everywhere (the Palilia of the Romans) and all night long, they threw incense and perfumes into the fires to ask for divine blessings on the fruit trees. See also Budgett Meakin, The Moors (London, 1902), p. 394: The Berber festivals are mostly those of Islam, although a few remnants of earlier traditions can still be seen. The most notable of these is Midsummer or St. John's Day, which is still celebrated in a unique way and is called El 'Anṣarah. In the Rîf, it is marked by the lighting of bonfires only, but in other areas, a special dish made of wheat, raisins, and other ingredients is prepared, similar to the frumenty eaten during the New Year. It's interesting to note that they still follow the Old Style Gregorian calendar, albeit with some corrupted Latin names.
553.
Edward Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 28-30; same, Rituals and beliefs associated with agriculture, specific dates on the solar calendar, and weather (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 79-83.
554.
E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 30 sq.; id., Rituals and Beliefs Related to Agriculture, etc., pp. 83 sq.
555.
Edmond Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa (Algiers, 1908), pp. 567 sq.
556.
E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 31 sq.; id., Ceremonies and Beliefs Related to Agriculture, etc., pp. 84-86.
557.
See K. Vollers, in Dr. James Hastings's *Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics*, iii. (Edinburgh, 1910) s.v. “Islamic calendar,” pp. 126 sq. However, L. Ideler held that even before the time of Mohammed the Arab year was lunar and vague, and that intercalation was only employed in order to fix the pilgrimage month in autumn, which, on account of the milder weather and the abundance of food, is the best time for pilgrims to go to Mecca. See L. Ideler, Handbook of Mathematical and Technical Chronology (Berlin, 1825-1826), ii. 495 sqq.
558.
E. Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa, pp. 496, 509, 532, 543, 569. It is somewhat remarkable that the tenth, not the first, day of the first month should be reckoned New Year's Day.
559.
E. Westermarck, "Midsummer Traditions in Morocco," Folk tales, xvi. (1905) pp. 40-42.
560.
E. Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa (Algiers, 1908), pp. 541 sq.
561.
E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905) p. 42; id., Ceremonies and beliefs related to agriculture, specific dates of the solar year, and the weather in Morocco (Helsingfors, 1913), p. 101.
562.
E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Traditions in Morocco,” Folklore, xvi. (1905), pp. 42 sq., 46 sq.; id., Ceremonies and beliefs related to agriculture, etc., in Morocco, pp. 99 sqq.
563.
G. F. Abbott, Macedonian Folklore (Cambridge, 1903), pp. 60 sq.
564.
"Story of the Adventures of four Russian Sailors, who were caught in a storm on the uninhabited island of East Spitzbergen," translated from the German of P. L. Le Roy, in John Pinkerton's Journeys and Travels (London, 1808-1814), i. 603. This passage is quoted from the original by (Sir) Edward B. Tylor, Studies on the Early History of Humanity, Third Edition (London, 1878), pp. 259 sq.
565.
See *The Scapegoat*, pp. 166 sq.
566.
E. K. Chambers, The Medieval Stage (Oxford, 1903), i. 110 sqq.
567.
In Eastern Europe to this day the great season for driving out the cattle to pasture for the first time in spring is St. George's Day, the twenty-third of April, which is not far removed from May Day. See The Enchantment of Art and the Growth of Kings, ii. 324 sqq. As to the bisection of the Celtic year, see the old authority quoted by P. W. Joyce, The Social History of Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), ii. 390: "The entire year was originally split into two parts—Summer from May 1st to November 1st, and Winter from November 1st to May 1st." On this subject compare (Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London and Edinburgh, 1888), pp. 460, 514 sqq.; id., Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 315 sqq.; J. A. MacCulloch, in Dr. James Hastings's Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics, iii. (Edinburgh, 1910) p. 80.
568.
See below, p. 225.
569.
Above, pp. 146 sqq.; The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 59 sqq.
570.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Manx and Welsh (Oxford, 1901), i. 316, 317 sq.; J. A. MacCulloch, in Dr. James Hastings's *Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics*, iii. (Edinburgh, 1910) s.v. “Calendar app,” p. 80, referring to Kelly, *English and Manx Dictionary* (Douglas, 1866), s.v. "Blein." Hogmanay is the popular Scotch name for the last day of the year. See Dr. J. Jamieson, Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, New Edition (Paisley, 1879-1882), ii. 602 squared
571.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx, i. 316 sq.
572.
Above, p. 139.
573.
See Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp. 309-318. As I have there pointed out, the Catholic Church succeeded in altering the date of the festival by one day, but not in changing the character of the festival. All Souls' Day is now the second instead of the first of November. But we can hardly doubt that the Saints, who have taken possession of the first of November, wrested it from the Souls of the Dead, the original proprietors. After all, the Saints are only one particular class of the Souls of the Dead; so that the change which the Church effected, no doubt for the purpose of disguising the heathen character of the festival, is less great than appears at first sight.
574.
In Wales "It was widely believed in the past that on All Hallows' Eve, the spirit of a deceased person could be seen at midnight at every crossroad and on every stile." (Marie Trevelyan, Wales' Folklore and Stories, London, 1909, p. 254).
575.
E. J. Guthrie, Scottish Traditions (London and Glasgow, 1885), p. 68.
576.
A. Goodrich-Freer, "More Folklore from the Hebrides," Folklore, xiii. (1902) p. 53.
577.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London and Edinburgh, 1888), p. 516.
578.
P. W. Joyce, A Social History of Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), i. 264 sq., ii. 556.
579.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism, p. 516.
580.
Rev. John Gregorson Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1900), pp. 61 sq.
581.
Ch. Rogers, Social Life in Scotland (Edinburgh, 1884-1886), iii. 258-260.
582.
Douglas Hyde, By the Fire, a Collection of Irish Gaelic Folk Stories (London, 1890), pp. 104, 105, 121-128.
583.
P. W. Joyce, Social History of Ancient Ireland, i. 229.
584.
Marie Trevelyan, Wales' Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), p. 254.
585.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism, pp. 514 sq. In order to see the apparitions all you had to do was to run thrice round the parish church and then peep through the key-hole of the door. See Marie Trevelyan, op. cit. p. 254; J. C. Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 77.
586.
Miss E. J. Guthrie, Traditional Scottish Customs (London and Glasgow, 1885), p. 75.
587.
Rev. John Gregorson Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), p. 282.
588.
Thomas Pennant, "Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides in 1772," in John Pinkerton's Travel Adventures, iii. (London, 1809) pp. 383 sq. In quoting the passage I have corrected what seem to be two misprints.
589.
John Ramsay, of Ochtertyre, Scotland and Scotsmen in the 18th Century, edited by Alexander Allardyce (Edinburgh and London, 1888), ii. 437 sq. This account was written in the eighteenth century.
590.
Rev. James Robertson, Parish minister of Callander, in Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Report of Scotland, xi. (Edinburgh, 1794), pp. 621 sq.
591.
Rev. Dr. Thomas Bisset, in Sir John Sinclair's *Statistical Account of Scotland*, v. (Edinburgh, 1793) pp. 84 sq.
592.
Miss E. J. Guthrie, Scottish Traditions (London and Glasgow, 1885), p. 67.
593.
James Napier, Folk Lore, or Superstitious Beliefs in Western Scotland This Century (Paisley, 1879), p. 179.
594.
J. G. Frazer, "Folklore at Balquhidder," The Folklore Journal, vi. (1888) p. 270.
595.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), pp. 167 sq.
596.
Rev. A. Johnstone, as to the parish of Monquhitter, in Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Overview of Scotland, xxi. (Edinburgh, 1799) pp. 145 sq.
597.
A. Macdonald, "Some past customs of the Royal Parish of Crathie, Scotland," Folklore, xviii. (1907) p. 85. The writer adds: “This way, the ‘faulds’ were cleansed of evil spirits.” But it does not appear whether this expresses the belief of the people or only the interpretation of the writer.
598.
Rev. John Gregorson Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 282 sq.
599.
Robert Burns, Halloween, with the poet's note; Rev. Walter Gregor, op. cit. p. 84; Miss E. J. Guthrie, same reference p. 69; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 287.
600.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. Walter Gregor, l.c.; Miss E. J. Guthrie, op. cit. pp. 70 sq.; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 286.
601.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, l.c.; Miss E. J. Guthrie, op. cit. p. 73; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 285; A. Goodrich-Freer, "More Folklore from the Hebrides," Folklore, xiii. (1902) pp. 54 sq.
602.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, op. cit. p. 85; Miss E. J. Guthrie, same source p. 71; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 285. According to the last of these writers, the winnowing had to be done in the devil's name.
603.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, l.c.; Miss E. J. Guthrie, op. cit. p. 72; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 286; A. Goodrich-Freer, “More Folklore from the Hebrides,” Folklore, xiii. (1902) p. 54.
604.
Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 283.
605.
Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. pp. 283 sq.; A. Goodrich-Freer, l.c.
606.
Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 284.
607.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, op. cit. p. 85; Miss E. J. Guthrie, op. cit. p. 70; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 284. Where nuts were not to be had, peas were substituted.
608.
Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 284.
609.
Rev. J. G. Campbell, l.c. According to my recollection of Hallowe'en customs observed in my boyhood at Helensburgh, in Dumbartonshire, another way was to stir the floating apples and then drop a fork on them as they bobbed about in the water. Success consisted in pinning one of the apples with the fork.
610.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, op. cit. pp. 85 sq.; Miss E. J Guthrie, op. cit. pp. 72 sq.; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 287.
611.
R. Burns, l.c.; Rev. W. Gregor, see above p. 85; Miss E. J. Guthrie, op. cit. pp. 69 sq.; Rev. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 285. It is the last of these writers who gives what may be called the Trinitarian form of the divination.
612.
Miss E. J. Guthrie, Traditional Scottish Practices (London and Glasgow, 1885), pp. 74 sq.
613.
A. Goodrich-Freer, “More Folklore from the Hebrides,” Folklore, xiii. (1902) p. 55.
614.
Pennant's manuscript, quoted by J. Brand, *Popular Antiquities of Great Britain* (London, 1882-1883), i. 389 sq.
615.
Sir Richard Colt Hoare, The Itinerary of Archbishop Baldwin through Wales A.D. 1188 by Giraldus de Barri (London, 1806), ii. 315; J. Brand, Famous Artifacts, i. 390. The passage quoted in the text occurs in one of Hoare's notes on the Itinerary. The dipping for apples, burning of nuts, and so forth, are mentioned also by Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), pp. 253, 255.
616.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Paganism (London and Edinburgh, 1888), pp. 515 sq. As to the Hallowe'en bonfires in Wales compare J. C. Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 77.
617.
See above, p. 183.
618.
See above, p. 231.
619.
Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), pp. 254 squared
620.
(General) Charles Vallancey, Collection on Irish Matters, iii. (Dublin, 1786), pp. 459-461.
621.
Miss A. Watson, quoted by A. C. Haddon, “A Collection of Irish Folklore,” Folklore, iv. (1893) pp. 361 sq.
622.
Leland L. Duncan, “Additional Notes from County Leitrim,” Folklore, v. (1894) pp. 195-197.
623.
H. J. Byrne, "All Hallows' Eve and Other Festivals in Connaught," Folklore, xviii. (1907) pp. 437 sq.
624.
Joseph Train, Historical and Statistical Overview of the Isle of Man (Douglas, Isle of Man, 1845), ii. 123; (Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 315 sqq.
625.
(Sir) John Rhys, Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 318-321.
626.
John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Folklore (Manchester and London, 1882), pp. 3 sq.
627.
J. Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, op. cit. p. 140.
628.
Annie Milner, in William Hone's *Yearbook* (London, preface dated January, 1832), coll. 1276-1279 (letter dated June, 1831); R. T. Hampson, Medieval Calendar (London, 1841), i. 365; T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British Popular Customs (London, 1876), p. 395.
629.
County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour (London, 1904), p. 78. Compare W. Henderson, Notes on the Folklore of the Northern Counties of England (London, 1879), pp. 96 sq.
630.
Baron Dupin, in Memoirs published by the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France, iv. (1823) p. 108.
631.
The evidence for the solar origin of Christmas is given in Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp 254-256.
632.
For the various names (Yu-batch, Yu-block, Yule-log, etc.) see Francis Grose, State Glossary, New Edition (London, 1811), p. 141; Joseph Wright, *The English Dialect Dictionary* (London, 1898-1905), vi. 593, s.v. "Christmas."
633.
"I’m fairly confident that the Yule log will be seen, in its initial use, as just a version of the Midsummer fires, created indoors due to the cold weather during this winter solstice, just like those during the hot season at summer are lit outside." (John Brand, Popular Antiques of Great Britain, London, 1882-1883, i. 471). His opinion is approved by W. Mannhardt (The tree cult of the Germans and their neighboring tribes, p. 236).
634.
And he said that the tree at the birth of the Lord should bring its festive fire (quoted by Jacob Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 522).
635.
Montanus, The German folk festivals, folk customs, and German folk beliefs (Iserlohn, n.d.), p. 12. The Sieg and Lahn are two rivers of Central Germany, between Siegen and Marburg.
636.
J. H. Schmitz, Customs and Tales, Songs, Proverbs, and Riddles of the Eifel People (Treves, 1856-1858), i. 4.
637.
Adalbert Kuhn, Legends, customs, and fairy tales from Westphalia (Leipsic, 1859), ii. § 319, pp. 103 sq.
638.
A. Kuhn, op. cit. ii. § 523, p. 187.
639.
August Witzschel, Legends, customs, and traditions from Thuringia (Vienna, 1878), p. 172.
640.
E. Hoffmann-Krayer, Festivals and Traditions of the Swiss People (Zurich, 1913), pp. 108 sq.
641.
Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Belgian Calendar (Brussels, 1861-1862), ii. 326 sq. Compare J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen, 1852-1858), i. 117.
642.
J. B. Thiers, Treatise on Superstitions5 (Paris, 1741), i. 302 sq.; Eugène Cortet, Essay on Religious Holidays (Paris, 1867), pp. 266 sq.
643.
J. B. Thiers, Treatise on Superstitions (Paris, 1679), p 323.
644.
Aubin-Louis Millin, Journey through the Southern Departments of France (Paris, 1807-1811), iii. 336 sq. The fire so kindled was called caco fuech.
645.
Alfred de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 151 sq. The three festivals during which the Yule log is expected to burn are probably Christmas Day (December 25th), St. Stephen's Day (December 26th), and St. John the Evangelist's Day (December 27th). Compare J. L. M. Noguès, The Customs of the Past in Saintonge and Aunis (Saintes, 1891), pp. 45-47. According to the latter writer, in Saintonge it was the mistress of the house who blessed the Yule log, sprinkling salt and holy water on it; in Poitou it was the eldest male who officiated. The log was called the Nô's nutshell.
646.
Laisnel de Salle, Beliefs and Legends of Central France (Paris, 1875), i. 1-3.
647.
Jules Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Bocage (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1883-1887), ii. 291. The author speaks of the custom as still practised in out-of-the-way villages at the time when he wrote. The usage of preserving the remains of the Yule-log (called tréfouet) in Normandy is mentioned also by Melle Amélie Bosquet, La Nortnandie Romanesque et Merveilleuse (Paris and Rouen, 1845), p. 294.
648.
A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 256.
649.
Paul Sébillot, Folk customs of Upper Brittany (Paris, 1886), pp. 217 sq.
650.
Albert Meyrac, Traditions, Customs, Legends, and Tales of the Ardennes (Charleville, 1890), pp. 96 sq.
651.
See above, p. 251.
652.
Lerouze, in Memoirs of the Celtic Academy, iii. (1809) p. 441, quoted by J. Brand, Famous Artifacts of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 469 note.
653.
L. F. Sauvé, The Folklore of the High Vosges (Paris, 1889), pp. 370 sq.
654.
Charles Beauquier, The Months in Franche-Comté (Paris, 1900), p. 183.
655.
A. de Nore, Coutumes, Myths and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 302 sq.
656.
John Brand, Famous Historical Artifacts of Great Britain (London, 1882-1883), i. 467.
657.
J. Brand, op. cit. i. 455; The Denham Tracts, edited by Dr. James Hardy (London, 1892-1895), ii. 25 sq.
658.

Herrick, Hesperides, “Ceremonies for Christmasse”:

Herrick, Hesperides, “Christmas Ceremonies”:

Come, bring with a noise,
My merrie merrie boyes,
The Christmas log to the firing; ...
With the last yeeres brand
Light the new block.

Come on, let’s cheer loudly,
My happy, happy friends,
Bring the Christmas log to the fire; ...
With last year's firebrand
Light the new log.

And, again, in his verses, “Ceremonies for Candlemasse Day”:

And, again, in his poems, “Candlemas Day Ceremonies”:

Kindle the Christmas brand, and then
Till sunne-set let it burne;
Which quencht, then lay it up agen,
Till Christmas next returne.
Part must be kept, wherewith to teend
The Christmas log next yeare;
And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend
Can do no mischiefe there.

Light the Christmas log, and then
Let it burn until sunset;
When it's finished, save some for next time,
Until Christmas comes around again.
You need to keep some to start
The Christmas log for next year;
And where it’s safely stored,
The devil can do no harm there.

See The Works of Robert Herrick (Edinburgh, 1823), vol. ii. pp. 91, 124. From these latter verses it seems that the Yule log was replaced on the fire on Candlemas (the second of February).

See The Works of Robert Herrick (Edinburgh, 1823), vol. ii. pp. 91, 124. From these latter verses, it appears that the Yule log was put back on the fire for Candlemas (February 2nd).

659.
Miss C. S. Burne and Miss G. F. Jackson, Shropshire Folklore (London, 1883), p. 398 note 2. See also below, pp. 257, 258, as to the Lincolnshire, Herefordshire, and Welsh practice.
660.
Francis Grose, Regional Glossary, Second Edition (London, 1811), pp. 141 sq.; T. F. Thiselton Dyer, UK Popular Customs (London, 1876), p. 466.
661.
County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour and edited by Northcote W. Thomas (London, 1904), p. 79.
662.
County Folklore, vol. ii. North Riding of Yorkshire, York and the Ainsty, collected and edited by Mrs. Gutch (London, 1901), pp. 273, 274, 275 sq.
663.
County folklore, vol. vi. East Riding of Yorkshire, collected and edited by Mrs. Gutch (London, 1912), pp. 23, 118, compare p. 114.
664.
John Aubrey, Remnants of Gentilism and Judaism (London, 1881), p. 5.
665.
County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, collected by Mrs. Gutch and Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), p. 219. Elsewhere in Lincolnshire the Yule-log seems to have been called the Yule-clog (op. cit. pp. 215, 216).
666.
Mrs. Samuel Chandler (Sarah Whateley), quoted in The Folklore Journal, i. (1883), pp. 351 sq.
667.
Miss C. S. Burne and Miss G. F. Jackson, Shropshire Folklore (London, 1883), pp. 397 sq. One of the informants of these writers says (op. cit. p. 399): “In 1845, I was at the Vessons farmhouse, close to the Eastbridge Coppice (at the northern end of the Stiperstones). The floor was made of flags, which is unusual for this area. Noticing a kind of pathway through the kitchen with the flags being quite damaged, I asked what caused it and was told it was from the horses' hooves bringing in the ‘Christmas Brund.’
668.
Mrs. Ella Mary Leather, *The Folklore of Herefordshire* (Hereford and London, 1912), p. 109. Compare Miss C. S. Burne, “Herefordshire Notes,” The Folklore Journal, iv. (1886) p. 167.
669.
Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), p. 28.
670.
In earlier times, and even as late as the mid-nineteenth century, the Servian village organization and agriculture had another distinctive feature. The threats from wild animals in the past, the lack of safety for life and property during Turkish rule, or rather misrule, and the inherent challenges of farming, especially the shortage of agricultural laborers, led the Servian peasants to stay in the family home rather than leave. In the same yard, surrounded by a fence, you could see several wooden huts around the ancestral house that had one or two rooms and served as sleeping quarters for the sons, nephews, grandsons, and their wives. Men and women from three generations often lived together in this way, working the land which was regarded as common property for the whole family. This extended family, staying together with all its branches, and essentially under one roof, collaborated and shared the benefits of their joint labor. This combination of family and agricultural association was called Zadrooga (The Association). This merger of family and agricultural association has provided significant moral, economic, social, and political benefits to the Servians. The head or chief (known as Stareshina) of such a family association is typically the oldest male member. He manages the common property and directs the work, serving as the executive leader of the association. Usually, he does not make decisions without consulting all the adult male members of the Zadrooga. (Chedo Mijatovich, Serbia and the Serbs, London, 1908, pp. 237 sq.). As to the house-communities of the South Slavs see further Og. M. Utiešenovič, The house communions of the South Slavs (Vienna, 1859); F. Demelié, The Customary Law of the Southern Slavs (Paris, 1876), pp. 23 ; F. S. Krauss, Customs and Traditions of the South Slavs (Vienna, 1885), pp. 64 sqq. Since Servia, freed from Turkish oppression, has become a well-regulated European state, with laws borrowed from the codes of France and Germany, the old house-communities have been rapidly disappearing (Chedo Mijatovich, op. cit. p. 240).
671.
Chedo Mijatovich, Serbia and the Serbians (London, 1908), pp. 98-105.
672.
Baron Rajacsich, The life, customs, and traditions of the South Slavs living in the Austrian Empire (Vienna, 1873), pp. 122-128.
673.
Baron Rajacsich, The life, customs, and traditions of the South Slavs living in the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Vienna, 1873), pp. 129-131. The Yule log (badnyak) is also known in Bulgaria, where the women place it on the hearth on Christmas Eve. See A. Strausz, The Bulgarians (Leipsic, 1898), p. 361.
674.
M. Edith Durham, *High Albania* (London, 1909), p. 129.
675.
R. F. Kaindl, The Huzuls (Vienna, 1894) p. 71.
676.
See above, pp. 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 258. Similarly at Candlemas people lighted candles in the churches, then took them home and kept them, and thought that by lighting them at any time they could keep off thunder, storm, and tempest. See Barnabe Googe, *The Catholic Kingdom* (reprinted London, 1880), p. 48 back.
677.
See above, pp. 248, 250, 251, 257, 258, 263.
678.
See The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 356 sqq.
679.
See above, pp. 248, 249, 250, 251, 264.
680.
August Witzschel, Tales, customs, and traditions from Thuringia (Vienna, 1878), pp. 171 sq.
681.
Jules Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Countryside (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1883-1887), ii. 289 sq.
682.
Joseph Train, A Historical and Statistical Overview of the Isle of Man (Douglas, Isle of Man, 1845), ii. 124, referring to Cregeen's Manx Dictionary, p. 67.
683.
R. Chambers, *The Book of Days* (London and Edinburgh, 1886), ii. 789-791, quoting The Banffshire Journal; Miss C. F. Gordon Cumming, In the Hebrides (London, 1883), p. 226; Miss E. J. Guthrie, Traditional Scottish Customs (London and Glasgow, 1885), pp. 223-225; Ch. Rogers, Social Life in Scotland (Edinburgh, 1884-1886), iii. 244 sq.; The Folklore Journal, vii. (1889) pp. 11-14, 46. Miss Gordon Cumming and Miss Guthrie say that the burning of the Clavie took place upon Yule Night; but this seems to be a mistake.
684.
Caesar, On the Gallic War, vii. 23.
685.
Hugh W. Young, F.S.A. Scot., Notes on the Ramparts of Burghead Uncovered by Recent Excavations (Edinburgh, 1892), pp. 3 sqq.; Notes on Further Excavations at Burghead (Edinburgh, 1893), pp. 7 sqq. These papers are reprinted from the Journal of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, vols. xxv., xxvii. Mr. Young concludes as follows: "It has been established that the fort at Burghead was built by a people who were skilled in engineering. They used square-headed nails, iron axes, and chisels; they shot balista stones weighing over 20 lbs; and their daily food included the bos longifrons. This was a people who constructed paved roads, dug artesian wells, and utilized Roman beads and pins. The mystery of Burghead should not be too hard to figure out now." (Notes on Additional Excavations at Burghead, pp. 14 sq.). For a loan of Mr. Young's pamphlets I am indebted to the kindness of Sheriff-Substitute David J. Mackenzie of Kilmarnock.
686.
Robert Cowie, M.A., M.D., Shetland: A Descriptive History (Aberdeen, 1871), pp. 127 sq.; County Folklore, vol. iii. Orkney and Shetland Islands, collected by G. F. Black and edited by Northcote W. Thomas (London, 1903), pp. 203 sq. A similar celebration, known as Up-helly-a', takes place at Lerwick on the 29th of January, twenty-four days after Old Christmas. See *The Scapegoat*, pp. 167-169. Perhaps the popular festival of Up-helly-a' has absorbed some of the features of the Christmas Eve celebration.
687.
Thomas Hyde, History of Ancient Persian Religion (Oxford, 1700), pp. 255-257.
688.
On the need-fire see Jacob Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 501 sqq.; J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen and Leipsic, 1852-1857), i. 116 sq., ii. 378 sqq.; Adalbert Kuhn, The Descent of Fire and the Drink of the Gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 41 sqq.; Walter K. Kelly, Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folklore (London, 1863), pp. 48 sqq.; W. Mannhardt, The tree worship of the Germans and their neighboring tribes (Berlin, 1875), pp. 518 sqq.; Charles Elton, Origins of English History (London, 1882), pp. 293 ; Ulrich Jahn, The German victim practices in agriculture and animal husbandry (Breslau, 1884), pp. 26 sqq. Grimm would derive the name need-fire (German, niedfyr, nodfyr, nodfeur, nothfeur) from need (German, noth), "need," so that the phrase need-fire would mean “a controlled fire.” This is the sense attached to it in Lindenbrog's glossary on the capitularies, quoted by Grimm, op. cit. i. p. 502: Eum ergo ignem nodfeur et nodfyr, quasi necessarium ignem vocant. C. L. Rochholz would connect need with a verb nails “to create” so that need-fire would mean “raging fire.” See C. L. Rochholz, German Beliefs and Traditions (Berlin, 1867), ii. 149 sq. This interpretation is confirmed by the name drill a hole, which is given to the need-fire in some parts of Switzerland. See E. Hoffmann-Krayer, "Fertility rites in Swiss folk traditions," Swiss Archive of Folklore, xi. (1907) p. 245.
689.
“Those sacrilegious fires, which they call,” quoted by J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 502; R. Andree, Braunschweig Folklore (Brunswick, 1896), p. 312.
690.
Indiculus Superstitionum et Paganiarum, No. XV., “De igne fricato de ligno i.e. nodfyr.” A convenient edition of the Indiculus has been published with a commentary by H. A. Saupe (Leipsic, 1891). As to the date of the work, see the editor's introduction, pp. 4 sq.
691.
Karl Lynker, German Legends and Customs in the Hesse Regions2 (Cassel and Göttingen, 1860), pp. 252 sq., quoting a letter of the mayor (Schultheiss) of Neustadt to the mayor of Marburg dated 12th December 1605.
692.
Bartholomäus Carrichter, The German Pantry (Strasburg, 1614), Fol. pag. 17 and 18, quoted by C. L. Rochholz, German Faith and Tradition (Berlin, 1867), ii. 148 sq.
693.
Joh. Reiskius, Investigation of the emergency fire (Frankfort and Leipsic, 1696), p. 51, quoted by J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 502 sq.; R. Andree, Braunschweiger Folklore (Brunswick, 1896), p. 313.
694.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 503 sq.
695.
J. Grimm, op. cit. i. 504.
696.
Adalbert Kuhn, Stories and Tales from Märkisch (Berlin, 1843), p. 369.
697.
Karl Bartsch, Tales, stories, and customs from Mecklenburg (Vienna, 1879-1880), ii. 149-151.
698.
Carl und Theodor Colshorn, Fairy Tales and Legends (Hanover, 1854), pp. 234-236, from the description of an eye-witness.
699.
Heinrich Pröhle, Images, customs, and traditions from the Harz Mountains (Leipsic, 1855), pp. 74 sq. The date of this need-fire is not given; probably it was about the middle of the nineteenth century.
700.
R. Andree, Braunschweiger Folklore (Brunswick, 1896), pp. 313 sq.
701.
R. Andree, ibid. pp. 314 sq.
702.
Montanus, German folk festivals, folk customs, and German folk beliefs (Iserlohn, n.d.), p. 127.
703.
Paul Drechsler, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in Silesia (Leipsic, 1903-1906), ii. 204.
704.
Anton Peter, Folk Culture from Austria - Silesia (Troppau, 1865-1867), ii. 250.
705.
Alois John, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in German West Bohemia (Prague, 1905), p. 209.
706.
C. L. Rochholz, German Beliefs and Customs (Berlin, 1867), ii. 149.
707.
E. Hoffmann-Krayer, "Fertility rites in Swiss folklore," Swiss Journal of Folklore, xi. (1907) pp. 244-246.
708.
E. Hoffmann-Krayer, op. cit. p. 246.
709.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 505.
710.
“Traditional Survivals in Isolated Norwegian Valleys,” Folklore, xx. (1909) pp. 314, 322 sq. This record of Norwegian folk-lore is translated from a little work Description of Sundalen and Öksendalen written by Pastor Chr. Glükstad and published at Christiania "around twenty years ago."
711.
Prof. Vl. Titelbach, "The sacred fire among the Balkan Slavs," International Archive of Ethnography, xiii. (1900) pp. 2 sq. We have seen (above, p. 220) that in Russia the need-fire is, or used to be, annually kindled on the eighteenth of August. As to the need fire in Bulgaria see also below, pp. 284 sq.
712.
F. S. Krauss, “Slavic fire-making,” Globe, lix. (1891) p. 318, quoting P. Ljiebenov, Baba Ega (Trnovo, 1887), p. 44.
713.
F. S. Krauss, op. cit. p. 319, quoting Wisla, vol. iv. pp. 1, 244 sqq.
714.
F. S. Krauss, op. cit. p. 318, quoting Oskar Kolberg, in Mazowsze, vol. iv. p. 138.
715.
F. S. Krauss, "Slavic fire drill," Globe, lix. (1891) p. 140. The evidence quoted by Dr. Krauss is that of his father, who often told of his experience to his son.
716.
Prof. Vl. Titelbach, “The sacred fire among the Balkan Slavs,” International Archive for Ethnography, xiii. (1900) p. 3.
717.
See below, vol. ii. pp. 168 sqq.
718.
Adolf Strausz, The Bulgarians (Leipsic, 1898), pp. 194-199.
719.
Scientific Communications from Bosnia and Herzegovina, redigirt von Moriz Hoernes, iii. (Vienna, 1895) pp. 574 sq.
720.
For the preservation of divine faith and integrity, the reader should recall that this year, as the plague ravaged livestock in Laodonia, which is commonly referred to as Lungessouth, some beast-like individuals, dressed like monks but not in spirit, were teaching the locals to create fire by rubbing wood together and to set up an image of Priapus, hoping to aid the animals through these actions. quoted by J. M. Kemble, The Saxons in England (London, 1849), i. 358 sq.; A. Kuhn, The descent of fire and the drink of the gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 43; Ulrich Jahn, German sacrificial customs in agriculture and animal husbandry (Breslau, 1884) p. 31.
721.
W. G. M. Jones Barker, The Three Days of Wensleydale (London, 1854), pp. 90 sq.; County Folklore, vol. ii., North Riding of Yorkshire, York, and Ainsty, collected and edited by Mrs. Gutch (London, 1901), p. 181.
722.
The Denham Tracts, a Collection of Folklore by Michael Aislabie Denham, edited by Dr. James Hardy (London, 1892-1895), ii. 50.
723.
Harry Speight, Hikes and Drives in the Craven Highlands (London, 1895), p. 162. Compare, id., The Craven and North-West Yorkshire Highlands (London, 1892), pp. 206 sq.
724.
J. M. Kemble, The Saxons in England (London, 1849), i. 361 note.
725.
E. Mackenzie, A Historical, Topographical, and Descriptive Overview of Northumberland County, Second Edition (Newcastle, 1825), i. 218, quoted in County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour (London, 1904), p. 45. Compare J. T. Brockett, Glossary of Northern Country Terms, p. 147, quoted by Mrs. M. C. Balfour, l.c.: Need-fire ... is a method of starting a fire using the friction of two dry pieces of wood. The common belief is that an angel strikes a tree, which produces the fire. I’ve heard that need-fire is still used for cattle affected by murrain. In the past, they were made to pass through the smoke of a fire made from straw and other materials.” The first edition of Brockett's Glossary was published in 1825.
726.
W. Henderson, Notes on the Folklore of Northern England and the Borders (London, 1879), pp. 167 sq. Compare County Folklore, vol. iv. Northumberland, collected by M. C. Balfour (London, 1904), p. 45. Stamfordham is in Northumberland. The vicar's testimony seems to have referred to the first half of the nineteenth century.
727.
M. Martin, "Description of the Western Islands of Scotland," in J. Pinkerton's Comprehensive Collection of Journeys and Travels, iii. (London, 1809), p. 611. The second edition of Martin's book, which Pinkerton reprints, was published at London in 1716. For John Ramsay's account of the need-fire, see above, pp. 147 sq.
728.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 506, referring to Miss Austin as his authority.
729.
As to the custom of sacrificing one of a plague-stricken herd or flock for the purpose of saving the rest, see below, pp. 300 sqq.
730.
John Jamieson, Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, New Edition, revised by J. Longmuir and D. Donaldson, iii. (Paisley, 1880) pp. 349 sq., referring to “Agr. Surv. Caithn., pp. 200, 201.”
731.
R. C. Maclagan, “Holy Fire,” Folklore, ix. (1898) pp. 280 sq. As to the fire-drill see The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 207 sqq.
732.
W. Grant Stewart, The Common Superstitions and Celebratory Traditions of the Highlanders of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1823), pp. 214-216; Walter K. Kelly, Interesting Aspects of Indo-European Tradition and Folklore (London, 1863), pp. 53 sq.
733.
Alexander Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica (Edinburgh, 1900), ii. 340 sq.
734.
See above, pp. 154, 156, 157, 159 sq.
735.
India Census, 1911, vol. xiv. Punjab, Part i. Report, by Pandit Harikishan Kaul (Lahore, 1912), p. 302. So in the north-east of Scotland "Those who were born feet first had a special ability to heal various sprains, back pain, and rheumatism, either by rubbing the injured area or by stepping on it. Their main strength was in their feet. People born this way often used their abilities for personal gain." See Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), pp. 45 sq.
736.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 186. The fumigation of the byres with juniper is a charm against witchcraft. See J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), p. 11. The "quarter sick" is a disease of cattle, which affects the animals only in one limb or quarter. A very unpleasant superstition is practiced by some people in Angus as a remedy against this illness. They cut a piece from the thigh of one of the cattle that died from it and hang it up in the chimney to protect the other cattle from getting infected. It's believed that as long as it stays there, it will keep the disease away from the place. Therefore, it's kept with great care and, if the family moves, it's taken to the new farm as one of their prized possessions. It gets passed down from one generation to the next. (J. Jamieson, Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, revised by J. Longmuir and D. Donaldson, iii. 575, s.v. “Quarter sick”). See further Rev. W. Gregor, op. cit. pp. 186 sq.: "The front legs of one of the dead animals were cut off just above the knee and hung over the fireplace in the kitchen. Some thought it was enough to place them over the door of the byre in the ‘crap o' the wa'.’ Sometimes, the heart and parts of the liver and lungs were cut out and hung over the fireplace instead of the front legs. Boiling them was sometimes done instead of hanging them over the hearth." Compare W. Henderson, Notes on the Folklores of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London, 1879), p. 167: A curious method for raising cattle recently came to the attention of Mr. George Walker, a gentleman from the city of Durham. During a trip a few miles into the countryside, he noticed a type of rigging attached to the chimney of a farmhouse he knew well and asked what it was for. The kind woman explained that they had struggled significantly that year with raising their calves; unfortunately, the poor little animals all died. So, they took the leg and thigh of one of the deceased calves and hung it in the chimney by a rope, and since then, they haven't lost another calf. In the light of facts cited below (pp. 315 sqq.) we may conjecture that the intention of cutting off the legs or cutting out the heart, liver, and lungs of the animals and hanging them up or boiling them, is by means of homoeopathic magic to inflict corresponding injuries on the witch who cast the fatal spell on the cattle.
737.
The Mirror, 24th June, 1826, quoted by J. M. Kemble, The Saxons in England (London, 1849), i. 360 note 2.
738.
Leland L. Duncan, "Fairy Beliefs and Other Folklore Notes from County Leitrim," Folklore, vii. (1896) pp. 181 sq.
739.
(Sir) Edward B. Tylor, Studies on the Early History of Humanity, Third Edition (London, 1878), pp. 237 sqq.; The Magical Arts and the Development of Monarchs, ii. 207 sqq.
740.
For some examples of such extinctions, see The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 261 sqq., 267 sq.; Spirits of the Corn and the Wild, i. 311, ii. 73 sq.; and above, pp. 124 sq., 132-139. The reasons for extinguishing fires ceremonially appear to vary with the occasion. Sometimes the motive seems to be a fear of burning or at least singeing a ghost, who is hovering invisible in the air; sometimes it is apparently an idea that a fire is old and tired with burning so long, and that it must be relieved of the fatiguing duty by a young and vigorous flame.
741.
Above, pp. 147, 154. The same custom appears to have been observed in Ireland. See above, p. 158.
742.
J. N. B. Hewitt, “New Fire with the Iroquois,” *American Anthropologist*, ii. (1889) p. 319.
743.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 507.
744.
See above, p. 290.
745.
William Hone, Everyday Book (London, preface dated 1827), i. coll. 853 sq. (June 24th), quoting Hitchin's *History of Cornwall*.
746.
Hunt, Romances and Drolls of the West of England, 1st series, p. 237, quoted by W. Henderson, Notes on the Folklore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London, 1879), p. 149. Compare J. G. Dalyell, Scotland's Darker Superstitions (Edinburgh, 1834), p. 184: “Here you can also find a solution to that recent method that is mistakenly used in the nearby kingdom, where someone who believed he lost many of his cattle to witchcraft burned a live calf to break the spell and save the rest.”
747.
Marie Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), p. 23.
748.
W. Henderson, op. cit. pp. 148 sq.
749.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 186.
750.
R. N. Worth, *Devonshire History*, Second Edition (London, 1886), p. 339. The diabolical nature of the toad probably explains why people in Herefordshire think that if you wear a toad's heart concealed about your person you can steal to your heart's content without being found out. A suspected thief was overheard boasting, "They never catch me: and they never will either. I always wear a toad's heart around my neck, I do." See Mrs. Ella M. Leather, in Folklore, xxiv. (1913) p. 238.
751.
Above, p. 301.
752.
Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England, Third Edition (London, 1881), p. 320. The writer does not say where this took place; probably it was in Cornwall or Devonshire.
753.
Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 184.
754.
County Folklore, Printed Extracts, No. 2, Suffolk, collected and edited by the Lady Eveline Camilla Gurdon (London, 1893), pp. 190 sq., quoting Some Materials for the History of Wherstead by F. Barham Zincke (Ipswich, 1887), p. 168.
755.
County Folklore, Printed Excerpts, No. 2, Suffolk, p. 191, referring to Murray's Essex and Suffolk Handbook, etc., p. 109.
756.
(Sir) John Rhys, "Manx Folklore and Superstitions," Folklore, ii. (1891) pp. 300-302; repeated in his Celtic folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 306 sq. Sir John Rhys does not doubt that the old woman saw, as she said, a live sheep being burnt on old May-day; but he doubts whether it was done as a sacrifice. He adds: "I couldn't find anyone else in Andreas or Bride, or even on the entire island, who will admit to having ever heard about the sheep sacrifice on the old May Day." However, the evidence I have adduced of a custom of burnt sacrifice among English rustics tends to confirm the old woman's statement, that the burning of the live sheep which she witnessed was not an act of wanton cruelty but a sacrifice performed for the public good.
757.
(Sir) John Rhys, "Manx Folklore and Superstitions," Folklore, ii. (1891) pp. 299 sq.; id., Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (Oxford, 1901), i. 304 sq. We have seen that by burning the blood of a bewitched bullock a farmer expected to compel the witch to appear. See above, p. 303.
758.
Olaus Magnus, History of the Northern Peoples, lib xviii. cap. 47, p. 713 (ed. Bâle, 1567).
759.
Collin de Plancy, Infernal Dictionary (Paris, 1825-1826), iii. 473 sq., referring to Boguet.
760.
Collin de Plancy, op. cit. iii. 473.
761.
Felix Chapiseau, The Folklore of Beauce and Perche (Paris, 1902), i. 239 sq. The same story is told in Upper Brittany. See Paul Sébillot, Traditions and Superstitions of Upper Brittany (Paris, 1882), i. 292. It is a common belief that a man who has once been transformed into a were-wolf must remain a were-wolf for seven years unless blood is drawn from him in his animal shape, upon which he at once recovers his human form and is delivered from the bondage and misery of being a were-wolf. See F. Chapiseau, op. cit. i. 218-220; Amélie Bosquet, Normandy: Romanesque and Wonderful (Paris and Rouen, 1845), p. 233. On belief in were-wolves in general, see W. Hertz, The Werewolf (Stuttgart, 1862); J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 915 qq.; (Sir) Edward B. Tylor, Basic Culture2 (London, 1873), i. 308 sqq.; R. Andree, Ethnographic parallels and comparisons (Stuttgart, 1878), pp. 62-80. In North Germany it is believed that a man can turn himself into a wolf by girding himself with a strap made out of a wolf's hide. Some say that the strap must have nine, others say twelve, holes and a buckle; and that according to the number of the hole through which the man inserts the tongue of the buckle will be the length of time of his transformation. For example, if he puts the tongue of the buckle through the first hole, he will be a wolf for one hour; if he puts it through the second, he will be a wolf for two days; and so on, up to the last hole, which entails a transformation for a full year. But by putting off the girdle the man can resume his human form. The time when were-wolves are most about is the period of the Twelve Nights between Christmas and Epiphany; hence cautious German farmers will not remove the dung from the cattle-stalls at that season for fear of attracting the were-wolves to the cattle. See Adalbert Kuhn, Märkische Legends and Tales (Berlin, 1843), p. 375; Ulrich Jahn, Folklore from Pomerania and Rügen (Stettin, 1886), pp. 384, 386, Nos. 491, 495. Down to the time of Elizabeth it was reported that in the county of Tipperary certain men were annually turned into wolves. See W. Camden, UK, translated into English by Philemon Holland (London, 1610), "Ireland," p. 83.
762.
J. J. M. de Groot, China's Religious System, v. (Leyden, 1907) P. 548.
763.
A. C. Kruijt, "The werewolf among the Toradja of Central Sulawesi," Journal of Indonesian Language, Geography, and Ethnology, xli. (1899) pp. 548-551, 557-560.
764.
A. C. Kruijt, op. cit. pp. 552 sq.
765.
A. C. Kruijt, op. cit. pp. 553. For more evidence of the belief in were-wolves, or rather in were-animals of various sorts, particularly were-tigers, in the East Indies, see J. J. M. de Groot, “De Weertijger in our Colonies and on the East Asian Mainland,” Contributions to the Language, Geography, and Ethnology of the Netherlands Indies, xlix. (1898) pp. 549-585; G. P. Rouffaer, “Matjan Gadoengan,” Contributions to the Language, Geography, and Ethnology of Dutch India, l. (1899) pp. 67-75; J. Knebel, "De Weertijger in Central Java, retold by the Javanese," Journal of Indonesian Language, Geography, and Ethnology, xli. (1899) pp. 568-587; L. M. F. Plate, "Contribution to the understanding of lycanthropy among the Sasak people in East Lombok," Journal of Indian Language, Geography, and Ethnology, liv. (1912) pp. 458-469; G. A. Wilken, "Animism among the peoples of the Indonesian Archipelago," Scattered Writings (The Hague, 1912), iii. 25-30.
766.
Ernst Marno, Traveling in the region of the Blue and White Nile (Vienna, 1874), pp. 239 sq.
767.

Petronius, Sat. 61 sq. (pp. 40 sq., ed. Fr. Buecheler,3 Berlin, 1882). The Latin word for a were-wolf (versipellis) is expressive: it means literally “skin-shifter,” and is equally appropriate whatever the particular animal may be into which the wizard transforms himself. It is to be regretted that we have no such general term in English.

Petronius, Sat. 61 sq. (pp. 40 sq., ed. Fr. Buecheler,3 Berlin, 1882). The Latin word for a werewolf (versipellis) is quite descriptive: it literally means “shapeshifter,” and works just as well regardless of the specific animal into which the wizard changes. It’s unfortunate that we don’t have such a universal term in English.

The bright moonlight which figures in some of these were-wolf stories is perhaps not a mere embellishment of the tale but has its own significance; for in some places it is believed that the transformation of were-wolves into their bestial shape takes place particularly at full moon. See A. de Nore, Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 99, 157; J. L. M. Noguès, Les Mœurs d'autrefois en Saintonge et en Aunis (Saintes, 1891), p. 141.

The bright moonlight featured in some of these werewolf stories might not just be a decoration of the tale but may hold its own importance; in some places, it’s believed that werewolves transform into their bestial form specifically during a full moon. See A. de Nore, Customs, Myths, and Traditions of the Provinces of France (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 99, 157; J. L. M. Noguès, The Customs of the Past in Saintonge and Aunis (Saintes, 1891), p. 141.

768.
J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), p. 6: "While performing their forbidden magic, witches took on different forms. They transformed into gulls, cormorants, ravens, rats, mice, black sheep, rising waves, whales, and most often, cats and hares." To this list of animals into which witches can turn themselves may be added horses, dogs, wolves, foxes, pigs, owls, magpies, wild geese, ducks, serpents, toads, lizards, flies, wasps, and butterflies. See A. Wuttke, German folk beliefs2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 150 § 217; L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. 327 § 220; Ulrich Jahn, Witchcraft and Sorcery in Pomerania (Breslau, 1886), p. 7. In his *Topography of Ireland* (chap. 19), a work completed in 1187 a.d., Giraldus Cambrensis records that “It has also been a common complaint, both in the past and today, that certain witches in Wales, as well as in Ireland and Scotland, transformed themselves into the shape of hares so they could secretly steal milk from others while in this disguise.” See The Historical Works of Giraldus Cambrensis, revised and edited by Thomas Wright (London, 1887), p. 83.
769.
The Folklore Journal, iv. (1886) p. 266; Collin de Plancy, Infernal Dictionary (Paris, 1825-1826), iii. 475; J. L. M. Noguès, The Customs of the Past in Saintonge and Aunis (Saintes, 1891), p. 141. In Scotland the cut was known as "scoring above the breath." It consisted of two incisions made crosswise on the witch's forehead, and was "was trusted by everyone in Scotland as the most effective counter-charm." See Sir Walter Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft (London, 1884), p. 272; J. G. Dalyell, The Darker Superstitions of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1834), pp. 531 sq.; M. M. Banks, "Scoring a Witch above the Breath," Folklore, xxiii. (1912) p. 490.
770.
J. L. M. Noguès, l.c.; L. F. Sauvé, The Folklore of the High Vosges (Paris, 1889), p. 187.
771.
M. Abeghian, Armenian folk belief (Leipsic, 1899), p. 117. The wolf-skin is supposed to fall down from heaven and to return to heaven after seven years, if the were-wolf has not been delivered from her unhappy state in the meantime by the burning of the skin.
772.
J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), p. 8; compare A. Wuttke, German folk beliefs2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 150 § 217. Some think that the sixpence should be crooked. See Rev. W. Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), pp. 71 sq., 128; County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, collected by Mrs. Gutch and Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), p. 75.
773.
J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 30.
774.
J. G. Campbell, op. cit. p. 33.
775.
(Sir) Edward B. Tylor, Traditional Culture2 (London, 1873), i. 314.
776.
Joseph Glanvil, Saducismus Triumphatus or Clear and Complete Evidence about Witches and Apparitions (London, 1681), Part ii. p. 205.
777.
Rev. J. C. Atkinson, Forty Years in a Moorland Parish (London, 1891), pp. 82-84.
778.
County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, collected by Mrs. Gutch and Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), pp. 79, 80.
779.
Leland L. Duncan, "Folklore Insights from County Leitrim," Folklore, iv. (1893) pp. 183 sq.
780.
L. F. Sauvé, The Folklore of the High Vosges (Paris, 1889), p. 176.
781.
L. F. Sauvé, op. cit. pp. 176 sq.
782.
Ernst Meier, German Legends, Customs and Traditions from Swabia (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 184 sq., No. 203.
783.
E. Meier, op. cit. pp. 191 sq., No. 215. A similar story of the shoeing of a woman in the shape of a horse is reported from Silesia. See R. Kühnau, Silesian Legends (Berlin, 1910-1913), iii. pp. 27 sq., No. 1380.
784.
R. Kühnau, Silesian Legends (Berlin, 1910-1913), iii. pp. 23 sq., No. 1375. Compare id., iii. pp. 28 sq., No. 1381.
785.
See for example L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. pp. 328, 329, 334, 339; W. von Schulenburg, Slavic Folk Tales and Customs from the Spreewald (Leipsic, 1880), pp. 164, 165 sq.; H. Pröhle, Harzsagen (Leipsic, 1859), i. 100 sq. The belief in such things is said to be universal among the ignorant and superstitious in Germany. See A. Wuttke, German folk superstitions2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 150, § 217. In Wales, also, “The belief that you could injure or leave a mark on a witch in her disguised form so severely that the bruise would still be visible in her natural form was common.” (J. Ceredig Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales, Aberystwyth, 1911, p. 243). For Welsh stories of this sort, see J. Ceredig Davies, l.c.; Rev. Elias Owen, Welsh Folklore (Oswestry and Wrexham, n.d., preface dated 1896), pp. 228 sq.; M. Trevelyan, Welsh Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), p. 214.
786.
L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. p. 361, § 239.
787.
Marie Trevelyan, Wales' Folklore and Stories (London, 1909), p. 210.
788.
L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. p. 358, § 238.
789.
L. Strackerjan, op. cit. i. p. 360, § 238e.
790.
“The ‘Witch-burning’ in Clonmell,” Folklore, vi. (1895) pp. 373-384. The account there printed is based on the reports of the judicial proceedings before the magistrates and the judge, which were published in The Irish Times for March 26th, 27th, and 28th, April 2nd, 3rd, 6th, and 8th, and July 6th, 1895.
791.
John Graham Dalyell, The Darker Superstitions of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1834), p. 185. In this passage fast is used in the old sense of "living" as in the phrase "the quick and the dead." Noice is "nose," hoill is “hole” which (whilk) is "which," and be is “by.”
792.
J. G. Dalyell, op. cit. p. 186. Bestial = animals; seik = sick; calling = driving; guides = cattle.
793.
John Ramsay, of Ochtertyre, Scotland and Scots in the 18th Century, edited by Alexander Allardyce (Edinburgh and London, 1888), ii. 446 sq. As to the custom of cutting off the leg of a diseased animal and hanging it up in the house, see above, p. 296, note 1.
794.
(Sir) Arthur Mitchell, A.M., M.D., On Different Superstitions in the North-West Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1862), p. 12 (reprinted from the Transactions of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, vol. iv.).
795.
County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, collected by Mrs. Gutch and Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), p. 75, quoting Rev. R. M. Heanley, “The Vikings: traces of their folklore in Marshland,” a paper read before the Viking Club, London, and printed in its Saga-Book, vol. iii. Part i. Jan. 1902. The wicken-tree is the mountain-ash or rowan tree, which is a very efficient, or at all events a very popular protective against witchcraft. See County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, pp. 26 sq., 98 sq.; Mabel Peacock, “Lincolnshire Folklore,” Folklore, xii. (1901) p. 175; J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 11 sq.; Rev. Walter Gregor, Notes on the Folklore of North-East Scotland (London, 1881), p. 188. See further *The Scapegoat*, pp. 266 sq.
796.
Above, pp. 116 sq., 119, 143, 165, 166, 168 sq., 172.
797.
Above, pp. 116, 117 sq., 119, 141, 143, 161, 162 sq., 163 sq., 166, 173, 191, 201.
798.
W. Mannhardt, The tree worship of the Germanic peoples and their neighboring tribes (Berlin, 1875), pp. 521
799.
E. Westermarck, "Midsummer Traditions in Morocco," Folklore, xvi. (1905) pp. 44 sqq.; id., The Origin and Development of Moral Ideas (London, 1906-1908), i. 56; same, Rituals and beliefs linked to agriculture, specific dates in the solar year, and the weather in Morocco (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 93-102.
800.
E. Mogk, "Customs and Traditions Throughout the Year," in R. Wuttke's Saxon Folklore2 (Dresden, 1901), pp. 310 sq.
801.
The Golden Bough, Second Edition (London, 1900), iii. 312: "The practice of jumping over fire and herding cattle through it may serve two purposes: first, to ensure that both humans and animals receive some of the sun's vital energy, and second, to cleanse them of any negative influences. For primitive cultures, fire is seen as the most potent purifying force."; and again, id. iii. 314: It's quite possible that in these customs, the idea of fire's life-giving power is mixed with the belief that fire acts as a cleansing force to remove or destroy evil beings, like witches and pests that ruin crops. Certainly, those who light the fires often see them in this latter way; this purifying use of fire is clearly seen, as we've noted, in the overall expulsion of demons from towns and villages. However, in the current cases, this viewpoint of fire might be secondary, if it isn't just a later misunderstanding of the custom.
802.
The Magical Arts and the Development of Kings, i. 311 sqq.
803.
See Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp. 254 sqq.
804.

Manilius, Astronom. v. 206 sqq.:

Manilius, Astronom. v. 206 sqq.:

Cum vero in vastos surget Nemeaeus hiatus,
Exoriturque Canis, latratque Canicula flammas
Et rabit igne suo geminatque incendia solis,
Qua subdente facem terris radiosque movente
,”
etc.

When the vast, open emptiness of Nemea emerges,
And the Dog rises up, barking flames,
And rages with its own fire, intensifying the sun's heat,
As it casts its light over the land and stirs the rays
,”
etc.

Pliny, Naturalis Historia, xviii. 269 sq.: Exoritur dein post triduum fere ubique confessum inter omnes sidus ingens quod canis ortum vocamus, sole partem primam leonis ingresso. Hoc fit post solstitium XXIII. die. Sentiunt id maria et terrae, multae vero et ferae, ut suis locis diximus. Neque est minor ei veneratio quam descriptis in deos stellis, accenditque solem et magnam aestus obtinet causam.

Pliny, Natural History, xviii. 269 sq.: “Then, after nearly three days, a bright star appears that we call the Dog Star, as the sun moves into the beginning of Leo. This occurs on the 23rd day after the solstice. Both the ocean and the land feel its effect, as do many wild animals, as we have noted. It is as highly regarded as the stars recognized as deities, and it fuels the sun and significantly affects the heat.”

805.
Bushman Folklore Samples, collected by the late W. H. I. Bleek, Ph.D., and L. C. Lloyd (London, 1911), pp. 339, 341. In quoting the passage I have omitted the brackets which the editors print for the purpose of indicating the words which are implied, but not expressed, in the original Bushman text.
806.
"The sun feels a bit warm when this star shows up in winter." (Editors of Bushman Folklore Examples).
807.
“Using the stick he had held in the fire, he moved it up and down swiftly.” (Editors).
808.
"They pull one arm out of the blanket, exposing one shoulder blade to the sun." (Editors).
809.
See above, pp. 161, 162 sq. On the wheel as an emblem of the sun, see J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 ii. 585; A. Kuhn, The Descent of Fire and the Drink of the Gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 45 sqq.; H. Gaidoz, “The Gallic god of the sun and the symbolism of the wheel,” Archaeological Review, iii. Série, iv. (1884) pp. 14 sqq.; William Simpson, The Buddhist Prayer Wheel (London, 1896), pp. 87 sqq. It is a popular Armenian idea that "The body of the sun is shaped like the wheel of a water mill; it turns and moves onward. Just as drops of water spray from the mill wheel, sunbeams burst forth from the spokes of the sun wheel." (M. Abeghian, Armenian folk beliefs, Leipsic, 1899, p. 41). In the old Mexican picture-books the usual representation of the sun is "a wheel, often dazzling with many colors, the rays of which are like many bloodstained tongues, through which the Sun gets his nourishment" (E. J. Payne, History of the New World known as America, Oxford, 1892, i. 521).
810.
Above, p. 169.
811.
Ernst Meier, German Legends, Customs and Traditions from Swabia (Stuttgart, 1852), p. 225; F. Panzer, Contribution to German mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), ii. 240; Anton Birlinger, Folk customs from Swabia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862), ii. 57, 97; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 510.
812.
Compare J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 521; J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology (Göttingen und Leipsic, 1852-1857), ii. 389; Adalbert Kuhn, The Descent of the Fire and the Drink of the Gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 41 squared, 47; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 521. Lindenbrog in his Glossary on the Capitularies (quoted by J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 502) expressly says: In many parts of Germany, especially on the festival of St. John the Baptist, locals pull a stake from a fence, wrap a rope around it, and swing it back and forth until it catches fire. They carefully maintain this fire using straw and dry sticks, then spread the ashes over their vegetable gardens, mistakenly and superstitiously believing it will keep caterpillars away. They call this fire nodfeur or nodfyr, meaning need-fire.
813.
Above, pp. 144 sq., 147 sq., 155, 169 sq., 175, 177, 179.
814.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 i. 509; J. W. Wolf, Contributions to German Mythology, i. 117; A. Kuhn, The Descent of Fire,2 pp. 47 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Tree worship, p. 521; W. E. Kelly, Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folklore (London, 1863), p. 49.
815.
A. Kuhn, The Descent of Fire and the Drink of the Gods2 (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 47.
816.
Above, p. 179.
817.
F. Panzer, Contribution to German mythology (Munich, 1848-1855), ii. 240, § 443.
818.
Above, p. 177.
819.
Above, pp. 187 sq.
820.
Above, pp. 279 sq.
821.
Above, p. 188.
822.
Above, p. 159.
823.
Above, p. 116.
824.
Above, p. 201.
825.
L. Decle, Three Years in Wild Africa (London, 1898), pp. 160 sq.
826.
Rev. J. Shooter, The Kafirs of Natal and the Zulu Region (London, 1857), p. 18.
827.
Above, pp. 140, 142.
828.
Above, pp. 119, 165, 166, 173, 203.
829.
Above, p. 140.
830.
Above, p. 121.
831.
Above, pp. 141, 170, 190, 203, 248, 250, 264.
832.
Above, p. 251.
833.
Above, pp. 119, 165, 166, 168, 173, 174.
834.
Above, pp. 118, 163 sq.
835.
Above, p. 201.
836.
Above, p. 203.
837.
Above, p. 250.
838.
Above, pp. 251, 262, 263, 264.
839.
Above, p. 112.
840.
Above, p. 141.
841.
Above, p. 214.
842.
Above, p. 204.
843.
Above, p. 194.
844.
Above, pp. 185, 189; compare p. 174.
845.
Above, p. 166.
846.
Above, pp. 249, 250.
847.
Above, pp. 107, 109, 111, 119; compare pp. 116, 192, 193.
848.
Above, p. 115.
849.
Above, p. 180.
850.
Above, pp. 113, 142, 170, 233. The torches of Demeter, which figure so largely in her myth and on her monuments, are perhaps to be explained by this custom. See Spirits of the Corn and the Wild, i. 57. W. Mannhardt thought (Tree worship, p. 536) that the torches in the modern European customs are imitations of lightning. At some of their ceremonies the Indians of North-West America imitate lightning by means of pitch-wood torches which are flashed through the roof of the house. See J. G. Swan, quoted by Franz Boas, “The Social Organization and the Secret Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians,” *Report of the United States National Museum for 1895* (Washington, 1897), p. 639.
851.
Above, p. 203.
852.
Amélie Bosquet, Normandy Romanesque and Wonderful (Paris and Rouen, 1845), pp. 295 sq.; Jules Lecœur, Sketches of the Norman Countryside (Condé-sur-Noireau, 1883-1887), ii. 126-129. See *The Scapegoat*, pp. 316 sq.
853.
Br. Jelínek, "Materials on the Prehistory and Folklore of Bohemia," Reports of the Anthropological Society in Vienna, xxi. (1891) p. 13 note.
854.
Mrs. Bishop, Korea and its Neighbors (London, 1898), ii. 56 sq.
855.
Above, pp. 190 sq.
856.
Above, pp. 178, 205, 206.
857.
See The Enchanted Craft and the Rise of Monarchs, i. 311 sqq.
858.
Above, pp. 108, 109, 116, 118 sq., 121, 148, 154, 156, 157, 159, 160, 170, 171, 174, 175, 176, 180, 183, 185, 188, 232 sq., 245, 252, 253, 280, 292, 293, 295, 297. For more evidence of the use of fire to burn or expel witches on certain days of the year, see *The Scapegoat*, pp. 158 sqq. Less often the fires are thought to burn or repel evil spirits and vampyres. See above, pp. 146, 170, 172, 202, 252, 282, 285. Sometimes the purpose of the fires is to drive away dragons (above, pp. 161, 195).
859.
Above, pp. 107, 116, 118 sq., 159.
860.
"In short, of all the problems that come with human life, none are as threatening as witchcraft, which, as described by an honest man who had greatly suffered from its impacts, even the great laird of Grant himself could not withstand if it were to fully take hold of him." (W. Grant Stewart, The Popular Superstitions and Festive Entertainments of the Highlanders of Scotland, Edinburgh, 1823, pp. 202 sq.). "Every misfortune and disaster that happened in the parish, like sickness, the death of loved ones, loss of livestock, and failed harvests; they took their superstition so far that even bad weather was blamed on certain old women believed to be in league with the Devil. The common people thought these women had the ability and often the desire to harm their property and trouble them." (County Folklore, vol. v. Lincolnshire, collected by Mrs. Gutch and Mabel Peacock, London, 1908, p. 76). The county of Salop is no different when it comes to superstition. The former vicar of a parish on the Clee Hills was surprised to learn that his parishioners still believed in witchcraft. He once planned to give a sermon against it, but the parish schoolmaster convinced him not to. The schoolmaster warned that the belief was so deeply ingrained in the people's minds that preaching against it would likely drive them away from the Church rather than diminish their faith in witchcraft. (Miss C. F. Burne and Miss G. F. Jackson, Shropshire Folklore, London, 1883, p. 145). "Whenever a man or any living creature gets sick, or some kind of misfortune occurs, and there's no obvious natural cause, it's likely that witchcraft is involved. The sudden stiffness in the lower back, which most people can't explain at the moment, is referred to as a ‘witch-shot’ and is actually attributed to witchcraft." (L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg, Oldenburg, 1867, i. p. 298, § 209). What Sir Walter Scott said less than a hundred years ago is probably still true: “The remnants of superstition still exist; there’s no doubt that many people are still hooked on the habit of making marks above their breath (as it’s called) and other counter-spells, showing that the belief in witchcraft is only dormant and could potentially be awakened in isolated places to lead to acts of violence.” (Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, London, 1884, p. 272). Compare L. Strackerjan, cited work i. p. 340, § 221: "The immense power and malicious wickedness of witches make everyone fear and hate them. The hatred is so strong that even today, you can still hear people openly wish that burning them at the stake was still in vogue, as they think this evil group deserves nothing less. Perhaps the hatred would be expressed even more openly if the fear weren't so overwhelming."
861.
For some evidence, see The Magical Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 52-55, 330 sqq. It is a popular belief, universally diffused in Germany, that cattle-plagues are caused by witches (A. Wuttke, German folk superstition,2 Berlin, 1869, p. 149 § 216). The Scotch Highlanders thought that a witch could destroy the whole of a farmer's live stock by hiding a small bag, stuffed with charms, in a cleft of the stable or byre (W. Grant Stewart, The Popular Superstitions and Festive Celebrations of the Highlanders of Scotland, Edinburgh, 1823, pp. 201 sq.).
862.
The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 330 sqq.
863.
Above, pp. 282, 284 sq.
864.
Above, pp. 118, 121, 144, 145, 176.
865.
Above, pp. 121, 122, 124, 140 sq., 145, 146, 174, 176, 183, 184, 187, 188, 190, 191, 192, 249, 250, 252, 253, 254, 258.
866.
J. Grimm, German Mythology,4 ii. 908 sqq.; J. V. Grohmann, Superstitions and customs from Bohemia and Moravia (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 32 § 182; A. Wuttke, German folk superstition2 (Berlin, 1869), pp. 149 sq., § 216; J. Ceredig Davies, Folklore of West and Mid-Wales (Aberystwyth, 1911), p. 230; Alois John, Customs, Traditions, and Folk Beliefs in German West Bohemia (Prague, 1905), p. 202.
867.
Above, pp. 108, 121, 140, 146, 165, 183, 188, 196, 250, 255, 256, 258.
868.
Above, pp. 107, 195 sq.
869.
Above, pp. 162, 163, 166, 171, 174.
870.
A. Wuttke, German folk beliefs2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 351, § 395.
871.
Above, pp. 165, 168, 189, compare 190.
872.
A. Wuttke, German folk superstition2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 351, § 395; L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. p. 298, § 209. See above, p. 343 note.
873.
In the Ammerland, a district of Oldenburg, you may sometimes see an old cart-wheel fixed over the principal door or on the gable of a house; it serves as a charm against witchcraft and is especially intended to protect the cattle as they are driven out and in. See L. Strackerjan, Superstitions and Legends from the Duchy of Oldenburg (Oldenburg, 1867), i. p. 357, § 236. Can this use of a wheel as a talisman against witchcraft be derived from the practice of rolling fiery wheels down hill for a similar purpose?
874.
F. S. Krauss, Folk Beliefs and Religious Customs of the South Slavs (Münster i. W., 1890), pp. 118 sq.
875.
In German such spells are called Knotting; in French, tie the bow. See J. Grimm, German mythology,4 ii. 897, 983; A. Wuttke, German folk superstition2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 252 § 396; E. Doutté, Magic and Religion in North Africa (Algiers, 1908), pp. 87 sq., 294 sqq.; J.L.M. Noguès, The Customs of Yesteryear in Saintonge and Aunis (Saintes, 1891), pp. 171 sq.


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