CHAPTER VI. THE CORN-MOTHER IN MANY LANDS.

§ 1. The Corn-mother in America.

(M139) European peoples, ancient and modern, have not been singular in

personifying the corn as a mother goddess. The same simple idea has

suggested itself to other agricultural races in distant parts of the

world, and has been applied by them to other indigenous cereals than

barley and wheat. If Europe has its Wheat-mother and its Barley-mother,

America has its Maize-mother and the East Indies their Rice-mother. These

personifications I will now illustrate, beginning with the American

personification of the maize.

(M140) We have seen that among European peoples it is a common custom to

keep the plaited corn-stalks of the last sheaf, or the puppet which is

formed out of them, in the farm-house from harvest to harvest.(564) The

intention no doubt is, or rather originally was, by preserving the

representative of the corn-spirit to maintain the spirit itself in life

and activity throughout the year, in order that the corn may grow and the

crops be good. This interpretation of the custom is at all events rendered

highly probable by a similar custom observed by the ancient Peruvians, and

thus described by the old Spanish historian Acosta:—“They take a certain

portion of the most fruitful of the maize that grows in their farms, the

which they put in a certain granary which they do call _Pirua_, with

certain ceremonies, watching three nights; they put this maize in the

richest garments they have, and being thus wrapped and dressed, they

worship this _Pirua_, and hold it in great veneration, saying it is the

mother of the maize of their inheritances, and that by this means the

maize augments and is preserved. In this month [the sixth month, answering

to May] they make a particular sacrifice, and the witches demand of this

_Pirua_ if it hath strength sufficient to continue until the next year;

and if it answers no, then they carry this maize to the farm to burn,

whence they brought it, according to every man’s power; then they make

another _Pirua_, with the same ceremonies, saying that they renew it, to

the end the seed of maize may not perish, and if it answers that it hath

force sufficient to last longer, they leave it until the next year. This

foolish vanity continueth to this day, and it is very common amongst the

Indians to have these _Piruas_.”(565)

(M141) In this description of the custom there seems to be some error.

Probably it was the dressed-up bunch of maize, not the granary (_Pirua_),

which was worshipped by the Peruvians and regarded as the Mother of the

Maize. This is confirmed by what we know of the Peruvian custom from

another source. The Peruvians, we are told, believed all useful plants to

be animated by a divine being who causes their growth. According to the

particular plant, these divine beings were called the Maize-mother

(_Zara-mama_), the Quinoa-mother (_Quinoa-mama_), the Coca-mother

(_Coca-mama_), and the Potato-mother (_Axo-mama_). Figures of these divine

mothers were made respectively of ears of maize and leaves of the quinoa

and coca plants; they were dressed in women’s clothes and worshipped. Thus

the Maize-mother was represented by a puppet made of stalks of maize

dressed in full female attire; and the Indians believed that “as mother,

it had the power of producing and giving birth to much maize.”(566)

Probably, therefore, Acosta misunderstood his informant, and the Mother of

the Maize which he describes was not the granary (_Pirua_), but the bunch

of maize dressed in rich vestments. The Peruvian Mother of the Maize, like

the harvest-Maiden at Balquhidder, was kept for a year in order that by

her means the corn might grow and multiply. But lest her strength might

not suffice to last till the next harvest, she was asked in the course of

the year how she felt, and if she answered that she felt weak, she was

burned and a fresh Mother of the Maize made, “to the end the seed of maize

may not perish.” Here, it may be observed, we have a strong confirmation

of the explanation already given of the custom of killing the god, both

periodically and occasionally. The Mother of the Maize was allowed, as a

rule, to live through a year, that being the period during which her

strength might reasonably be supposed to last unimpaired; but on any

symptom of her strength failing she was put to death, and a fresh and

vigorous Mother of the Maize took her place, lest the maize which depended

on her for its existence should languish and decay.

(M142) Hardly less clearly does the same train of thought come out in the

harvest customs formerly observed by the Zapotecs of Mexico. At harvest

the priests, attended by the nobles and people, went in procession to the

maize fields, where they picked out the largest and finest sheaf. This

they took with great ceremony to the town or village, and placed it in the

temple upon an altar adorned with wild flowers. After sacrificing to the

harvest god, the priests carefully wrapped up the sheaf in fine linen and

kept it till seed-time. Then the priests and nobles met again at the

temple, one of them bringing the skin of a wild beast, elaborately

ornamented, in which the linen cloth containing the sheaf was enveloped.

The sheaf was then carried once more in procession to the field from which

it had been taken. Here a small cavity or subterranean chamber had been

prepared, in which the precious sheaf was deposited, wrapt in its various

envelopes. After sacrifice had been offered to the gods of the fields for

an abundant crop the chamber was closed and covered over with earth.

Immediately thereafter the sowing began. Finally, when the time of harvest

drew near, the buried sheaf was solemnly disinterred by the priests, who

distributed the grain to all who asked for it. The packets of grain so

distributed were carefully preserved as talismans till the harvest.(567)

In these ceremonies, which continued to be annually celebrated long after

the Spanish conquest, the intention of keeping the finest sheaf buried in

the maize field from seed-time to harvest was undoubtedly to quicken the

growth of the maize.

(M143) A fuller and to some extent different account of the ancient

Mexican worship of the maize has been given us by the Franciscan monk

Bernardino de Sahagun, who arrived in Mexico in 1529, only eight years

after its conquest by the Spaniards, and devoted the remaining sixty-one

years of his long life to labouring among the Indians for their moral and

spiritual good. Uniting the curiosity of a scientific enquirer to the zeal

of a missionary, and adorning both qualities with the humanity and

benevolence of a good man, he obtained from the oldest and most learned of

the Indians accounts of their ancient customs and beliefs, and embodied

them in a work which, for combined interest of matter and fulness of

detail, has perhaps never been equalled in the records of aboriginal

peoples brought into contact with European civilisation. This great

document, after lying neglected in the dust of Spanish archives for

centuries, was discovered and published almost simultaneously in Mexico

and England in the first half of the nineteenth century. It exists in the

double form of an Aztec text and a Spanish translation, both due to

Sahagun himself. Only the Spanish version has hitherto been published in

full, but the original Aztec text, to judge by the few extracts of it

which have been edited and translated, appears to furnish much more ample

details on many points, and in the interest of learning it is greatly to

be desired that a complete edition and translation of it should be given

to the world.

(M144) Fortunately, among the sections of this great work which have been

edited and translated from the Aztec original into German by Professor

Eduard Seler of Berlin is a long one describing the religious festivals of

the ancient Mexican calendar.(568) From it we learn some valuable

particulars as to the worship of the Maize-goddess and the ceremonies

observed by the Mexicans for the purpose of ensuring a good crop of maize.

The festival was the fourth of the Aztec year, and went by the name of the

Great Vigil. It fell on a date which corresponds to the seventh of April.

The name of the Maize-goddess was Chicome couatl, and the Mexicans

conceived and represented her in the form of a woman, red in face and arms

and legs, wearing a paper crown dyed vermilion, and clad in garments of

the hue of ripe cherries. No doubt the red colour of the goddess and her

garments referred to the deep orange hue of the ripe maize; it was like

the yellow hair of the Greek corn-goddess Demeter. She was supposed to

make all kinds of maize, beans, and vegetables to grow. On the day of the

festival the Mexicans sent out to the maize-fields and fetched from every

field a plant of maize, which they brought to their houses and greeted as

their maize-gods, setting them up in their dwellings, clothing them in

garments, and placing food before them. And after sunset they carried the

maize-plants to the temple of the Maize-goddess, where they snatched them

from one another and fought and struck each other with them. Further, at

this festival they brought to the temple of the Maize-goddess the

maize-cobs which were to be used in the sowing. The cobs were carried by

three maidens in bundles of seven wrapt in red paper. One of the girls was

small with short hair, another was older with long hair hanging down, and

the third was full-grown with her hair wound round her head. Red feathers

were gummed to the arms and legs of the three maidens and their faces were

painted, probably to resemble the red Maize-goddess, whom they may be

supposed to have personated at various stages of the growth of the corn.

The maize-cobs which they brought to the temple of the Maize-goddess were

called by the name of the Maize-god Cinteotl, and they were afterwards

deposited in the granary and kept there as “the heart of the granary” till

the sowing time came round, when they were used as seed.(569)

(M145) The eastern Indians of North America, who subsisted to a large

extent by the cultivation of maize, generally conceived the spirit of the

maize as a woman, and supposed that the plant itself had sprung originally

from the blood drops or the dead body of the Corn Woman. In the sacred

formulas of the Cherokee the corn is sometimes invoked as “the Old Woman,”

and one of their myths relates how a hunter saw a fair woman issue from a

single green stalk of corn.(570) The Iroquois believe the Spirit of the

Corn, the Spirit of Beans, and the Spirit of Squashes to be three sisters

clad in the leaves of their respective plants, very fond of each other,

and delighting to dwell together. This divine trinity is known by the name

of _De-o-ha’-ko_, which means “Our Life” or “Our Supporters.” The three

persons of the trinity have no individual names, and are never mentioned

separately except by means of description. The Indians have a legend that

of old the corn was easily cultivated, yielded abundantly, and had a grain

exceedingly rich in oil, till the Evil One, envious of this good gift of

the Great Spirit to man, went forth into the fields and blighted them. And

still, when the wind rustles in the corn, the pious Indian fancies he

hears the Spirit of the Corn bemoaning her blighted fruitfulness.(571) The

Huichol Indians of Mexico imagine maize to be a little girl, who may

sometimes be heard weeping in the fields; so afraid is she of the wild

beasts that eat the corn.(572)

§ 2. The Mother-cotton in the Punjaub.

(M146) In the Punjaub, to the east of the Jumna, when the cotton boles

begin to burst, it is usual to select the largest plant in the field,

sprinkle it with butter-milk and rice-water, and then bind to it pieces of

cotton taken from the other plants of the field. This selected plant is

called Sirdar or _Bhogaldaí_, that is “mother-cotton,” from _bhogla_, a

name sometimes given to a large cotton-pod, and _daí_ (for _daiya_), “a

mother,” and after it has been saluted, prayers are offered that the other

plants may resemble it in the richness of their produce.(573)

§ 3. The Barley Bride among the Berbers.

(M147) The conception of the corn-spirit as a bride seems to come out

clearly in a ceremony still practised by the Berbers near Tangier, in

Morocco. When the women assemble in the fields to weed the green barley or

reap the crops, they take with them a straw figure dressed like a woman,

and set it up among the corn. Suddenly a group of horsemen from a

neighbouring village gallops up and carries off the straw puppet amid the

screams and cries of the women. However, the ravished effigy is rescued by

another band of mounted men, and after a struggle it remains, more or less

dishevelled, in the hands of the women. That this pretended abduction is a

mimic marriage appears from a Berber custom in accordance with which, at a

real wedding, the bridegroom carries off his seemingly unwilling bride on

horseback, while she screams and pretends to summon her friends to her

rescue. No fixed date is appointed for the simulated abduction of the

straw woman from the barley-field, the time depends upon the state of the

crops, but the day and hour are made public before the event. Each village

used to practise this mimic contest for possession of the straw woman, who

probably represents the Barley Bride, but nowadays the custom is growing

obsolete.(574)

(M148) An earlier account of what seems to be the same practice runs as

follows: “There is a curious custom which seems to be a relic of their

pagan masters, who made this and the adjoining regions of North Africa the

main granary of their Latin empire. When the young corn has sprung up,

which it does about the middle of February, the women of the villages make

up the figure of a female, the size of a very large doll, which they dress

in the gaudiest fashion they can contrive, covering it with ornaments to

which all in the village contribute something; and they give it a tall,

peaked head-dress. This image they carry in procession round their fields,

screaming and singing a peculiar ditty. The doll is borne by the foremost

woman, who must yield it to any one who is quick enough to take the lead

of her, which is the cause of much racing and squabbling. The men also

have a similar custom, which they perform on horseback. They call the

image Mata. These ceremonies are said by the people to bring good luck.

Their efficacy ought to be great, for you frequently see crowds of men

engaged in their performances running and galloping recklessly over the

young crops of wheat and barley. Such customs are directly opposed to the

faith of Islam, and I never met with a Moor who could in any way enlighten

me as to their origin. The Berber tribes, the most ancient race now

remaining in these regions, to which they give the name, are the only ones

which retain this antique usage, and it is viewed by the Arabs and

dwellers in the town as a remnant of idolatry.”(575) We may conjecture

that this gaudily dressed effigy of a female, which the Berber women carry

about their fields when the corn is sprouting, represents the Corn-mother,

and that the procession is designed to promote the growth of the crops by

imparting to them the quickening influence of the goddess. We can

therefore understand why there should be a competition among the women for

the possession of the effigy; each woman probably hopes to secure for

herself and her crops a larger measure of fertility by appropriating the

image of the Corn-mother. The competition on horseback among the men is no

doubt to be explained similarly; they, too, race with each other in their

eagerness to possess themselves of an effigy, perhaps of a male power of

the corn, by whose help they expect to procure a heavy crop. Such contests

for possession of the corn-spirit embodied in the corn-stalks are common,

as we have seen, among the reapers on the harvest fields of Europe.

Perhaps they help to explain some of the contests in the Eleusinian games,

among which horse-races as well as foot-races were included.(576)

§ 4. The Rice-mother in the East Indies.

(M149) If the reader still feels any doubts as to the meaning of the

harvest customs which have been practised within living memory by European

peasants, these doubts may perhaps be dispelled by comparing the customs

observed at the rice-harvest by the Malays and Dyaks of the East Indies.

For these Eastern peoples have not, like our peasantry, advanced beyond

the intellectual stage at which the customs originated; their theory and

their practice are still in unison; for them the quaint rites which in

Europe have long dwindled into mere fossils, the pastime of clowns and the

puzzle of the learned, are still living realities of which they can render

an intelligible and truthful account. Hence a study of their beliefs and

usages concerning the rice may throw some light on the true meaning of the

ritual of the corn in ancient Greece and modern Europe.

(M150) Now the whole of the ritual which the Malays and Dyaks observe in

connexion with the rice is founded on the simple conception of the rice as

animated by a soul like that which these people attribute to mankind. They

explain the phenomena of reproduction, growth, decay and death in the rice

on the same principles on which they explain the corresponding phenomena

in human beings. They imagine that in the fibres of the plant, as in the

body of a man, there is a certain vital element, which is so far

independent of the plant that it may for a time be completely separated

from it without fatal effects, though if its absence be prolonged beyond

certain limits the plant will wither and die. This vital yet separable

element is what, for the want of a better word, we must call the soul of a

plant, just as a similar vital and separable element is commonly supposed

to constitute the soul of man; and on this theory or myth of the

plant-soul is built the whole worship of the cereals, just as on the

theory or myth of the human soul is built the whole worship of the dead,—a

towering superstructure reared on a slender and precarious foundation.

(M151) The strict parallelism between the Indonesian ideas about the soul

of man and the soul of rice is well brought out by Mr. R. J. Wilkinson in

the following passage: “The spirit of life,—which, according to the

ancient Indonesian belief, existed in all things, even in what we should

now consider inanimate objects—is known as the _sĕmangat_. It was not a

‘soul’ in the modern English sense, since it was not the exclusive

possession of mankind, its separation from the body did not necessarily

mean death, and its nature may possibly not have been considered immortal.

At the present day, if a Malay feels faint, he will describe his condition

by saying that his ‘spirit of life’ is weak or is ‘flying’ from his body;

he sometimes appeals to it to return: ‘Hither, hither, bird of my soul.’

Or again, if a Malay lover wishes to influence the mind of a girl, he may

seek to obtain control of her _sĕmangat_, for he believes that this spirit

of active and vigorous life must quit the body when the body sleeps and so

be liable to capture by the use of magic arts. It is, however, in the

ceremonies connected with the so-called ‘spirit of the rice-crops’ that

the peculiar characteristics of the _sĕmangat_ come out most clearly. The

Malay considers it essential that the spirit of life should not depart

from the rice intended for next year’s sowing as otherwise the dead seed

would fail to produce any crop whatever. He, therefore, approaches the

standing rice-crops at harvest-time in a deprecatory manner; he addresses

them in endearing terms; he offers propitiatory sacrifices; he fears that

he may scare away the timorous ‘bird of life’ by the sight of a weapon or

the least sign of violence. He must reap the seed-rice, but he does it

with a knife of peculiar shape, such that the cruel blade is hidden away

beneath the reaper’s fingers and does not alarm the ‘soul of the rice.’

When once the seed-rice has been harvested, more expeditious reaping-tools

may be employed, since it is clearly unnecessary to retain the spirit of

life in grain that is only intended for the cooking-pot. Similar rites

attend all the processes of rice-cultivation—the sowing and the

planting-out as well as the harvest,—for at each of these stages there is

a risk that the vitality of the crop may be ruined if the bird of life is

scared away. In the language used by the high-priests of these very

ancient ceremonies we constantly find references to Sri (the Hindu Goddess

of the Crops), to the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and to Adam who,

according to Moslem tradition, was the first planter of cereals;—many of

these references only represent the attempts of the conservative Malays to

make their old religions harmonize with later beliefs. Beneath successive

layers of religious veneer, we see the animism of the old Indonesians, the

theory of a bird-spirit of life, and the characteristic view that the best

protection against evil lies in gentleness and courtesy to all animate and

inanimate things.”(577)

(M152) “It is a familiar fact,” says another eminent authority on the East

Indies, “that the Indonesian imagines rice to be animated, to be provided

with ‘soul-stuff.’ Since rice is everywhere cultivated in the Indian

Archipelago, and with some exceptions is the staple food, we need not

wonder that the Indonesian conceives the rice to be not merely animated in

the ordinary sense but to be possessed of a soul-stuff which in strength

and dignity ranks with that of man. Thus the Bataks apply the same word

_tondi_ to the soul-stuff of rice and the soul-stuff of human beings.

Whereas the Dyaks of Poelopetak give the name of _gana_ to the soul-stuff

of things, animals, and plants, they give the name of _hambaruan_ to the

soul-stuff of rice as well as of man. So also the inhabitants of Halmahera

call the soul-stuff of things and plants _giki_ and _duhutu_, but in men

and food they recognise a _gurumi_. Of the Javanese, Malays, Macassars,

Buginese, and the inhabitants of the island of Buru we know that they

ascribe a _sumangè_, _sumangat_, or _sĕmangat_ to rice as well as to men.

So it is with the Toradjas of Central Celebes; while they manifestly

conceive all things and plants as animated, they attribute a _tanoana_ or

soul-stuff only to men, animals, and rice. It need hardly be said that

this custom originates in the very high value that is set on rice.”(578)

(M153) Believing the rice to be animated by a soul like that of a man, the

Indonesians naturally treat it with the deference and the consideration

which they shew to their fellows. Thus they behave towards the rice in

bloom as they behave towards a pregnant woman; they abstain from firing

guns or making loud noises in the field, lest they should so frighten the

soul of the rice that it would miscarry and bear no grain; and for the

same reason they will not talk of corpses or demons in the rice-fields.

Moreover, they feed the blooming rice with foods of various kinds which

are believed to be wholesome for women with child; but when the rice-ears

are just beginning to form, they are looked upon as infants, and women go

through the fields feeding them with rice-pap as if they were human

babes.(579) In such natural and obvious comparisons of the breeding plant

to a breeding woman, and of the young grain to a young child, is to be

sought the origin of the kindred Greek conception of the Corn-mother and

the Corn-daughter, Demeter and Persephone, and we need not go further

afield to search for it in a primitive division of labour between the

sexes.(580) But if the timorous feminine soul of the rice can be

frightened into a miscarriage even by loud noises, it is easy to imagine

what her feelings must be at harvest, when people are under the sad

necessity of cutting down the rice with the knife. At so critical a season

every precaution must be used to render the necessary surgical operation

of reaping as inconspicuous and as painless as possible. For that reason,

as we have seen,(581) the reaping of the seed-rice is done with knives of

a peculiar pattern, such that the blades are hidden in the reapers’ hands

and do not frighten the rice-spirit till the very last moment, when her

head is swept off almost before she is aware; and from a like delicate

motive the reapers at work in the fields employ a special form of speech,

which the rice-spirit cannot be expected to understand, so that she has no

warning or inkling of what is going forward till the heads of rice are

safely deposited in the basket.(582)

(M154) Among the Indonesian peoples who thus personify the rice we may

take the Kayans or Bahaus of Central Borneo as typical. As we have already

seen, they are essentially an agricultural people devoted to the

cultivation of rice, which furnishes their staple food; their religion is

deeply coloured by this main occupation of their lives, and it presents

many analogies to the Eleusinian worship of the corn-goddesses Demeter and

Persephone.(583) And just as the Greeks regarded corn as a gift of the

goddess Demeter, so the Kayans believe that rice, maize, sweet potatoes,

tobacco, and all the other products of the earth which they cultivate,

were originally created for their benefit by the spirits.(584)

(M155) In order to secure and detain the volatile soul of the rice the

Kayans resort to a number of devices. Among the instruments employed for

this purpose are a miniature ladder, a spatula, and a basket containing

hooks, thorns, and cords. With the spatula the priestess strokes the soul

of the rice down the little ladder into the basket, where it is naturally

held fast by the hooks, the thorn, and the cord; and having thus captured

and imprisoned the soul she conveys it into the rice-granary. Sometimes a

bamboo box and a net are used for the same purpose. And in order to ensure

a good harvest for the following year it is necessary not only to detain

the soul of all the grains of rice which are safely stored in the granary,

but also to attract and recover the soul of all the rice that has been

lost through falling to the earth or being eaten by deer, apes, and pigs.

For this purpose instruments of various sorts have been invented by the

priests. One, for example, is a bamboo vessel provided with four hooks

made from the wood of a fruit-tree, by means of which the absent rice-soul

may be hooked and drawn back into the vessel, which is then hung up in the

house. Sometimes two hands carved out of the wood of a fruit-tree are used

for the same purpose. And every time that a Kayan housewife fetches rice

from the granary for the use of her household, she must propitiate the

souls of the rice in the granary, lest they should be angry at being

robbed of their substance. To keep them in good humour a bundle of

shavings of a fruit-tree and a little basket are always hung in the

granary. An egg and a small vessel containing the juice of sugar-cane are

attached as offerings to the bundle of shavings, and the basket contains a

sacred mat, which is used at fetching the rice. When the housewife comes

to fetch rice from the granary, she pours juice of the sugar-cane on the

egg, takes the sacred mat from the basket, spreads it on the ground, lays

a stalk of rice on it, and explains to the souls of the rice the object of

her coming. Then she kneels before the mat, mutters some prayers or

spells, eats a single grain from the rice-stalk, and having restored the

various objects to their proper place, departs from the granary with the

requisite amount of rice, satisfied that she has discharged her religious

duty to the spirits of the rice. At harvest the spirits of the rice are

propitiated with offerings of food and water, which are carried by

children to the rice-fields. At evening the first rice-stalks which have

been cut are solemnly brought home in a consecrated basket to the beating

of a gong, and all cats and dogs are driven from the house before the

basket with its precious contents is brought in.(585)

(M156) Among the Kayans of the Mahakam river in Central Borneo the sowing

of the rice is immediately preceded by a performance of masked men, which

is intended to attract the soul or rather souls of the rice and so to make

sure that the harvest will be a good one. The performers represent

spirits; for, believing that spirits are mightier than men, the Kayans

imagine that they can acquire and exert superhuman power by imitating the

form and actions of spirits.(586) To support their assumed character they

wear grotesque masks with goggle eyes, great teeth, huge ears, and beards

of white goat’s hair, while their bodies are so thickly wrapt up in

shredded banana-leaves that to the spectator they present the appearance

of unwieldy masses of green foliage. The leader of the band carries a long

wooden hook or rather crook, the shaft of which is partly whittled into

loose fluttering shavings. These disguises they don at a little distance

from the village, then dropping down the river in boats they land and

march in procession to an open space among the houses, where the people,

dressed out in all their finery, are waiting to witness the performance.

Here the maskers range themselves in a circle and dance for some time

under the burning rays of the midday sun, waving their arms, shaking and

turning their heads, and executing a variety of steps to the sound of a

gong, which is beaten according to a rigidly prescribed rhythm. After the

dance they form a line, one behind the other, to fetch the vagrant soul of

the rice from far countries. At the head of the procession marches the

leader holding high his crook and behind him follow all the other masked

men in their leafy costume, each holding his fellow by the hand. As he

strides along, the leader makes a motion with his crook as if he were

hooking something and drawing it to himself, and the gesture is imitated

by all his followers. What he is thus catching are the souls of the rice,

which sometimes wander far away, and by drawing them home to the village

he is believed to ensure that the seed of the rice which is about to be

sown will produce a plentiful harvest. As the spirits are thought not to

possess the power of speech, the actors who personate them may not utter a

word, else they would run the risk of falling down dead. The great field

of the chief is sown by representatives of all the families, both free and

slaves, on the day after the masquerade. On the same day the free families

sacrifice on their fields and begin their sowing on one or other of the

following days. Every family sets up in its field a sacrificial stage or

altar, with which the sowers must remain in connexion during the time of

sowing. Therefore no stranger may pass between them and the stage; indeed

the Kayans are not allowed to have anything to do with strangers in the

fields; above all they may not speak with them. If such a thing should

accidentally happen, the sowing must cease for that day. At the sowing

festival, but at no other time, Kayan men of the Mahakam river, like their

brethren of the Mendalam river, amuse themselves with spinning tops. For

nine days before the masquerade takes place the people are bound to

observe certain taboos: no stranger may enter the village: no villager may

pass the night out of his own house: they may not hunt, nor pluck fruits,

nor fish with the casting-net or the drag-net.(587) In this tribe the

proper day for sowing is officially determined by a priest from an

observation of the sun setting behind the hills in a line with two stones

which the priest has set up, one behind the other. However, the official

day often does not coincide with the actual day of sowing.(588)

(M157) The masquerade thus performed by the Kayans of the Mahakam river

before sowing the rice is an instructive example of a religious or rather

magical drama acted for the express purpose of ensuring a good crop. As

such it may be compared to the drama of Demeter and Persephone, the

Corn-mother and the Corn-maiden, which was annually played at the

Eleusinian mysteries shortly before the autumnal sowing of the corn. If my

interpretation of these mysteries is correct, the intention of the Greek

and of the Kayan drama was one and the same.

(M158) At harvest the Dyaks of Northern Borneo have a special feast, the

object of which is “to secure the soul of the rice, which if not so

detained, the produce of their farms would speedily rot and decay. At

sowing time, a little of the principle of life of the rice, which at every

harvest is secured by their priests, is planted with their other seeds,

and is thus propagated and communicated.” The mode of securing the soul of

the rice varies in different tribes. In the Quop district the ceremony is

performed by the chief priest alone, first in the long broad verandah of

the common house and afterwards in each separate family apartment. As a

preparation for the ceremony a bamboo altar, decorated with green boughs

and red and white streamers, is erected in the verandah, and presents a

very gay appearance. Here the people, old and young, assemble, the

priestesses dressed in gorgeous array and the elder men wearing

bright-coloured jackets and trousers of purple, yellow, or scarlet hue,

while the young men and lads beat gongs and drums. When the priest, with a

bundle of charms in either hand, is observed to be gazing earnestly in the

air at something invisible to common eyes, the band strikes up with

redoubled energy, and the elderly men in the gay breeches begin to shriek

and revolve round the altar in the dance. Suddenly the priest starts up

and makes a rush at the invisible object; men run to him with white

cloths, and as he shakes his charms over the cloths a few grains of rice

fall into them. These grains are the soul of the rice; they are carefully

folded up in the cloths and laid at the foot of the altar. The same

performance is afterwards repeated in every family apartment. In some

tribes the soul of the rice is secured at midnight. Outside the village a

lofty altar is erected in an open space surrounded by the stately forms of

the tropical palms. Huge bonfires cast a ruddy glow over the scene and

light up the dusky but picturesque forms of the Dyaks as they move in slow

and solemn dance round the altar, some bearing lighted tapers in their

hands, others brass salvers with offerings of rice, others covered

baskets, of which the contents are hidden from all but the initiated. The

corner-posts of the altar are lofty bamboos, whose leafy tops are yet

green and rustle in the wind; and from one of them a long narrow streamer

of white cloth hangs down. Suddenly elders and priests rush at this

streamer, seize the end of it, and amid the crashing music of drums and

gongs and the yells of the spectators begin dancing and swaying themselves

backwards and forwards, and to and fro. A priest or elder mounts the altar

amid the shouts of the bystanders and shakes the tall bamboos violently;

and in the midst of all this excitement and hubbub small stones, bunches

of hair, and grains of rice fall at the feet of the dancers, and are

carefully picked up by watchful attendants. These grains are the soul of

the rice. The ceremony ends with several of the oldest priestesses

falling, or pretending to fall, senseless to the ground, where, till they

come to themselves, their heads are supported and their faces fanned by

their younger colleagues. At the end of the harvest, when the year’s crop

has been garnered, another feast is held. A pig and fowls are killed, and

for four days gongs are beaten and dancing kept up. For eight days the

village is tabooed and no stranger may enter it. At this festival the

ceremony of catching the soul of the rice is repeated to prevent the crop

from rotting; and the soul so obtained is mixed with the seed-rice of the

next year.(589)

(M159) The same need of securing the soul of the rice, if the crop is to

thrive, is keenly felt by the Karens of Burma. When a rice-field does not

flourish, they suppose that the soul (_kelah_) of the rice is in some way

detained from the rice. If the soul cannot be called back, the crop will

fail. The following formula is used in recalling the _kelah_ (soul) of the

rice: “O come, rice-_kelah_, come! Come to the field. Come to the rice.

With seed of each gender, come. Come from the river Kho, come from the

river Kaw; from the place where they meet, come. Come from the West, come

from the East. From the throat of the bird, from the maw of the ape, from

the throat of the elephant. Come from the sources of rivers and their

mouths. Come from the country of the Shan and Burman. From the distant

kingdoms come. From all granaries come. O rice-_kelah_, come to the

rice.”(590)

(M160) Among the Taungthu of Upper Burma it is customary, when all the

rice-fields have been reaped, to make a trail of unhusked rice (paddy) and

husks all the way from the fields to the farm-house in order to guide the

spirit or butterfly, as they call it, of the rice home to the granary.

Care is taken that there should be no break in the trail, and the

butterfly of the rice is invited with loud cries to come to the house.

Were the spirit of the rice not secured in this manner, next year’s

harvest would be bad.(591) Similarly among the Cherokee Indians of North

America “care was always taken to keep a clean trail from the field to the

house, so that the corn might be encouraged to stay at home and not go

wandering elsewhere,” and “seven ears from the last year’s crop were

always put carefully aside, in order to _attract the corn_, until the new

crop was ripened.”(592) In Hsa Möng Hkam, a native state of Upper Burma,

when two men work rice-fields in partnership, they take particular care as

to the division of the grain between them. Each partner has a basket made,

of which both top and bottom are carefully closed with wood to prevent the

butterfly spirit of the rice from escaping; for if it were to flutter

away, the next year’s crop would be but poor.(593) Among the Talaings of

Lower Burma “the last sheaf is larger than the rest; it is brought home

separately, usually if not invariably on the morning after the remainder

of the harvest has been carted to the threshing-floor. The cultivators

drive out in their bullock-cart, taking with them a woman’s comb, a

looking-glass, and a woman’s skirt. The sheaf is dressed in the skirt, and

apparently the form is gone through of presenting it with the glass and

comb. It is then brought home in triumph, the people decking the cart with

their silk kerchiefs, and cheering and singing the whole way. On their

arrival home they celebrate the occasion with a feast. Strictly speaking

the sheaf should be kept apart from the rest of the harvest; owing,

however, to the high price of paddy it often finds its way to the

threshing-floor. Even when this is not the case it is rarely tended so

carefully as it is said to have been in former days, and if not threshed

with the remaining crop is apt to be eaten by the cattle. So far as I

could ascertain it had never been the custom to keep it throughout the

year; but on the first ploughing of the ensuing season there was some

ceremony in connection with it. The name of the sheaf was _Bonmagyi_; at

first I was inclined to fancy that this was a contraction of _thelinbon ma

gyi_, ‘the old woman of the threshing-floor.’ There are, however, various

reasons for discarding this derivation, and I am unable to suggest any

other.”(594) In this custom the personification of the last sheaf of rice

as a woman comes out clearly in the practice of dressing it up in female

attire.

(M161) The Corn-mother of our European peasants has her match in the

Rice-mother of the Minangkabauers of Sumatra. The Minangkabauers

definitely attribute a soul to rice, and will sometimes assert that rice

pounded in the usual way tastes better than rice ground in a mill, because

in the mill the body of the rice was so bruised and battered that the soul

has fled from it. Like the Javanese they think that the rice is under the

special guardianship of a female spirit called Saning Sari, who is

conceived as so closely knit up with the plant that the rice often goes by

her name, as with the Romans the corn might be called Ceres. In particular

Saning Sari is represented by certain stalks or grains called _indoea

padi_, that is, literally, “Mother of Rice,” a name that is often given to

the guardian spirit herself. This so-called Mother of Rice is the occasion

of a number of ceremonies observed at the planting and harvesting of the

rice as well as during its preservation in the barn. When the seed of the

rice is about to be sown in the nursery or bedding-out ground, where under

the wet system of cultivation it is regularly allowed to sprout before

being transplanted to the fields, the best grains are picked out to form

the Rice-mother. These are then sown in the middle of the bed, and the

common seed is planted round about them. The state of the Rice-mother is

supposed to exert the greatest influence on the growth of the rice; if she

droops or pines away, the harvest will be bad in consequence. The woman

who sows the Rice-mother in the nursery lets her hair hang loose and

afterwards bathes, as a means of ensuring an abundant harvest. When the

time comes to transplant the rice from the nursery to the field, the

Rice-mother receives a special place either in the middle or in a corner

of the field, and a prayer or charm is uttered as follows: “Saning Sari,

may a measure of rice come from a stalk of rice and a basketful from a

root; may you be frightened neither by lightning nor by passers-by!

Sunshine make you glad; with the storm may you be at peace; and may rain

serve to wash your face!” While the rice is growing, the particular plant

which was thus treated as the Rice-mother is lost sight of; but before

harvest another Rice-mother is found. When the crop is ripe for cutting,

the oldest woman of the family or a sorcerer goes out to look for her. The

first stalks seen to bend under a passing breeze are the Rice-mother, and

they are tied together but not cut until the first-fruits of the field

have been carried home to serve as a festal meal for the family and their

friends, nay even for the domestic animals; since it is Saning Sari’s

pleasure that the beasts also should partake of her good gifts. After the

meal has been eaten, the Rice-mother is fetched home by persons in gay

attire, who carry her very carefully under an umbrella in a neatly worked

bag to the barn, where a place in the middle is assigned to her. Every one

believes that she takes care of the rice in the barn and even multiplies

it not uncommonly.(595)

(M162) When the Tomori of Central Celebes are about to plant the rice,

they bury in the field some betel as an offering to the spirits who cause

the rice to grow. Over the spot where the offering is buried a small floor

of wood is laid, and the family sits on it and consumes betel together as

a sort of silent prayer or charm to ensure the growth of the crop. The

rice that is planted round this spot is the last to be reaped at harvest.

At the commencement of the reaping the stalks of this patch of rice are

tied together into a sheaf, which is called “the Mother of the Rice”

(_ineno pae_), and offerings in the shape of rice, fowl’s liver, eggs, and

other things are laid down before it. When all the rest of the rice in the

field has been reaped, “the Mother of the Rice” is cut down and carried

with due honour to the rice-barn, where it is laid on the floor, and all

the other sheaves are piled upon it. The Tomori, we are told, regard the

Mother of the Rice as a special offering made to the rice-spirit Omonga,

who dwells in the moon. If that spirit is not treated with proper respect,

for example if the people who fetch rice from the barn are not decently

clad, he is angry and punishes the offenders by eating up twice as much

rice in the barn as they have taken out of it; some people have heard him

smacking his lips in the barn, as he devoured the rice. On the other hand

the Toradjas of Central Celebes, who also practise the custom of the

Rice-mother at harvest, regard her as the actual mother of the whole

harvest, and therefore keep her carefully, lest in her absence the

garnered store of rice should all melt away and disappear.(596) Among the

Tomori, as among other Indonesian peoples, reapers at work in the field

make use of special words which differ from the terms in ordinary use; the

reason for adopting this peculiar form of speech at reaping appears to be,

as I have already pointed out, a fear of alarming the timid soul of the

rice by revealing the fate in store for it.(597) To the same motive is

perhaps to be ascribed the practice observed by the Tomori of asking each

other riddles at harvest.(598) Similarly among the Alfoors or Toradjas of

Poso, in Central Celebes, while the people are watching the crops in the

fields they amuse themselves with asking each other riddles and telling

stories, and when any one guesses a riddle aright, the whole company cries

out, “Let our rice come up, let fat ears come up both in the lowlands and

on the heights.” But all the time between harvest and the laying out of

new fields the asking of riddles and the telling of stories is strictly

forbidden.(599) Thus among these people it seems that the asking of

riddles is for some reason regarded as a charm which may make or mar the

crops.

(M163) Among some of the Toradjas of Celebes the ceremony of cutting and

bringing home the Mother of the Rice is observed as follows. When the crop

is ripe in the fields, the Mother of the Rice (_ânrong pâre_) must be

fetched before the rest of the harvest is reaped. The ceremony is

performed on a lucky day by a woman, who knows the rites. For three days

previously she observes certain precautions to prevent the soul

(_soemangâna âse_) of the rice from escaping out of the field, as it might

be apt to do, if it got wind that the reapers with their cruel knives were

so soon to crop the ripe ears. With this view she ties up a handful of

standing stalks of the rice into a bunch in each corner of the field,

while she recites an invocation to the spirits of the rice, bidding them

gather in the field from the four quarters of the heaven. As a further

precaution she stops the sluices, lest with the outrush of the water from

the rice-field the sly soul of the rice should make good its escape. And

she ties knots in the leaves of the rice-plants, all to hinder the soul of

the rice from running away. This she does in the afternoon of three

successive days. On the morning of the fourth day she comes again to the

field, sits down in a corner of it, and kisses the rice three times, again

inviting the souls of the rice to come thither and assuring them of her

affection and care. Then she cuts the bunch of rice-stalks which she had

tied together on one of the previous days. The stalks in the bunch must be

nine in number, and their leaves must be cut with them, not thrown away.

As she cuts, she may not look about her, nor cry out, nor speak to any

one, nor be spoken to; but she says to the rice, “The prophet reaps you. I

take you, but you diminish not; I hold you in my hand and you increase.

You are the links of my soul, the support of my body, my blessing, my

salvation. There is no God but God.” Then she passes to another corner of

the field to cut the bunch of standing rice in it with the same ceremony;

but before coming to it she stops half way to pluck another bunch of five

stalks in like manner. Thus from the four sides of the field she collects

in all fifty-six stalks of rice, which together make up the Mother of the

Rice (_ânrong pâre_). Then in a corner of the field she makes a little

stage and lays the Mother of the Rice on it, with the ears turned towards

the standing rice and the cut stalks towards the dyke which encloses the

field. After that she binds the fifty-six stalks of the Rice-mother into a

sheaf with the bark of a particular kind of tree. As she does so, she

says, “The prophet binds you into a sheaf; the angel increases you; the

_awâlli_ cares for you. We loved and cared for each other.” Then, after

anointing the sheaf and fumigating it with incense, she lays it on the

little stage. On this stage she had previously placed several kinds of

rice, betel, one or more eggs, sweetmeats, and young coco-nuts, all as

offerings to the Mother of the Rice, who, if she did not receive these

attentions, would be offended and visit people with sickness or even

vanish away altogether. Sometimes on large farms a fowl is killed and its

blood deposited in the half of a coco-nut on the stage. The standing rice

round about the stage is the last of the whole field to be reaped. When it

has been cut, it is bound up with the Mother of the Rice into a single

sheaf and carried home. Any body may carry the sheaf, but in doing so he

or she must take care not to let it fall, or the Rice-mother would be

angry and might disappear.(600)

(M164) Among the Battas or Bataks of Sumatra the rice appears to be

personified as a young unmarried woman rather than as a mother. On the

first day of reaping the crop only a few ears of rice are plucked and made

up into a little sheaf. After that the reaping may begin, and while it is

going forward offerings of rice and betel are presented in the middle of

the field to the spirit of the rice, who is personified under the name of

Miss Dajang. The offering is accompanied by a common meal shared by the

reapers. When all the rice has been reaped, threshed and garnered, the

little sheaf which was first cut is brought in and laid on the top of the

heap in the granary, together with an egg or a stone, which is supposed to

watch over the rice.(601) Though we are not told, we may assume that the

personified spirit of the rice is supposed to be present in the first

sheaf cut and in that form to keep guard over the rice in the granary.

Another writer, who has independently described the customs of the

Karo-Bataks at the rice-harvest, tells us that the largest sheaf, which is

usually the one first made up, is regarded as the seat of the rice-soul

and is treated exactly like a person; at the trampling of the paddy to

separate the grain from the husks the sheaf in question is specially

entrusted to a girl who has a lucky name, and whose parents are both

alive.(602)

(M165) In Mandeling, a district of Sumatra, contrary to what seems to be

the usual practice, the spirit of the rice is personified as a male

instead of as a female and is called the Rajah or King of the Rice. He is

supposed to be immanent in certain rice-plants, which are recognised by

their peculiar formation, such as a concealment of the ears in the sheath,

an unusual arrangement of the leaves, or a stunted growth. When one or

more such plants have been discovered in the field, they are sprinkled

with lime-juice, and the spirits are invoked by name and informed that

they are expected at home and that all is ready for their reception. Then

the King of the Rice is plucked with the hand and seven neighbouring

rice-stalks cut with a knife. He and his seven companions are then

carefully brought home; the bearer may not speak a word, and the children

in the house may make no noise till the King of the Rice has been safely

lodged in the granary and tethered, for greater security, with a grass

rope to one of the posts. As soon as that is done, the doors are shut to

prevent the spirits of the rice from escaping. The person who fetches the

King of the Rice from the field should prepare himself for the important

duty by eating a hearty meal, for it would be an omen of a bad harvest if

he presented himself before the King of the Rice with an empty stomach.

For the same reason the sower of rice should sow the seed on a full

stomach, in order that the ears which spring from the seed may be full

also.(603)

(M166) Again, just as in Scotland the old and the young spirit of the corn

are represented as an Old Wife (_Cailleach_) and a Maiden respectively, so

in the Malay Peninsula we find both the Rice-mother and her child

represented by different sheaves or bundles of ears on the harvest-field.

The following directions for obtaining both are translated from a native

Malay work on the cultivation of rice: “When the rice is ripe all over,

one must first take the ‘soul’ out of all the plots of one’s field. You

choose the spot where the rice is best and where it is ‘female’ (that is

to say, where the bunch of stalks is big) and where there are seven joints

in the stalk. You begin with a bunch of this kind and clip seven stems to

be the ‘soul of the rice’; and then you clip yet another handful to be the

‘mother-seed’ for the following year. The ‘soul’ is wrapped in a white

cloth tied with a cord of _tĕrap_ bark, and made into the shape of a

little child in swaddling clothes, and put into the small basket. The

‘mother-seed’ is put into another basket, and both are fumigated with

benzoin, and then the two baskets are piled the one on the other and taken

home, and put into the _kĕpuk_ (the receptacle in which rice is

stored).”(604) The ceremony of cutting and bringing home the Soul of the

Rice was witnessed by Mr. W. W. Skeat at Chodoi in Selangor on the

twenty-eighth of January 1897. The particular bunch or sheaf which was to

serve as the Mother of the Rice-soul had previously been sought and

identified by means of the markings or shape of the ears. From this sheaf

an aged sorceress, with much solemnity, cut a little bundle of seven ears,

anointed them with oil, tied them round with parti-coloured thread,

fumigated them with incense, and having wrapt them in a white cloth

deposited them in a little oval-shaped basket. These seven ears were the

infant Soul of the Rice and the little basket was its cradle. It was

carried home to the farmer’s house by another woman, who held up an

umbrella to screen the tender infant from the hot rays of the sun. Arrived

at the house the Rice-child was welcomed by the women of the family, and

laid, cradle and all, on a new sleeping-mat with pillows at the head.

After that the farmer’s wife was instructed to observe certain rules of

taboo for three days, the rules being in many respects identical with

those which have to be observed for three days after the birth of a real

child. For example, perfect quiet must be observed, as in a house where a

baby has just been born; a light was placed near the head of the

Rice-child’s bed and might not go out at night, while the fire on the

hearth had to be kept up both day and night till the three days were over;

hair might not be cut; and money, rice, salt, oil, and so forth were

forbidden to go out of the house, though of course these valuable articles

were quite free to come in. Something of the same tender care which is

thus bestowed on the newly-born Rice-child is naturally extended also to

its parent, the sheaf from whose body it was taken. This sheaf, which

remains standing in the field after the Rice-soul has been carried home

and put to bed, is treated as a newly-made mother; that is to say, young

shoots of trees are pounded together and scattered broadcast every evening

for three successive days, and when the three days are up you take the

pulp of a coco-nut and what are called “goat-flowers,” mix them up, eat

them with a little sugar, and spit some of the mixture out among the rice.

So after a real birth the young shoots of the jack-fruit, the rose-apple,

certain kinds of banana, and the thin pulp of young coco-nuts are mixed

with dried fish, salt, acid, prawn-condiment, and the like dainties to

form a sort of salad, which is administered to mother and child for three

successive days. The last sheaf is reaped by the farmer’s wife, who

carries it back to the house, where it is threshed and mixed with the

Rice-soul. The farmer then takes the Rice-soul and its basket and deposits

it, together with the product of the last sheaf, in the big circular

rice-bin used by the Malays. Some grains from the Rice-soul are mixed with

the seed which is to be sown in the following year.(605) In this

Rice-mother and Rice-child of the Malay Peninsula we may see the

counterpart and in a sense the prototype of the Demeter and Persephone of

ancient Greece.

(M167) Once more, the European custom of representing the corn-spirit in

the double form of bride and bridegroom(606) has its parallel in a

ceremony observed at the rice-harvest in Java. Before the reapers begin to

cut the rice, the priest or sorcerer picks out a number of ears of rice,

which are tied together, smeared with ointment, and adorned with flowers.

Thus decked out, the ears are called the _padi-pĕngantèn_, that is, the

Rice-bride and the Rice-bridegroom; their wedding feast is celebrated, and

the cutting of the rice begins immediately afterwards. Later on, when the

rice is being got in, a bridal chamber is partitioned off in the barn, and

furnished with a new mat, a lamp, and all kinds of toilet articles.

Sheaves of rice, to represent the wedding guests, are placed beside the

Rice-bride and the Rice-bridegroom. Not till this has been done may the

whole harvest be housed in the barn. And for the first forty days after

the rice has been housed, no one may enter the barn, for fear of

disturbing the newly-wedded pair.(607)

(M168) Another account of the Javanese custom runs as follows. When the

rice at harvest is to be brought home, two handfuls of common unhusked

rice (paddy) are tied together into a sheaf, and two handfuls of a special

kind of rice (_kleefrijst_) are tied up into another sheaf; then the two

sheaves are fastened together in a bundle which goes by the name of “the

bridal pair” (_pĕn-gantenan_). The special rice is the bridegroom, the

common rice is the bride. At the barn “the bridal pair” is received on a

winnowing-fan by a wizard, who removes them from the fan and lays them on

the floor with a couch of _kloewih_ leaves under them “in order that the

rice may increase,” and beside them he places a _kĕmiri_ nut, tamarind

pips, and a top and string as playthings with which the young couple may

divert themselves. The bride is called Emboq Sri and the bridegroom

Sadana, and the wizard addresses them by name, saying: “Emboq Sri and

Sadana, I have now brought you home and I have prepared a place for you.

May you sleep agreeably in this agreeable place! Emboq Sri and Sadana, you

have been received by So-and-So (the owner), let So-and-So lead a life

free from care. May Emboq Sri’s luck continue in this very agreeable

place!”(608)

(M169) The same idea of the rice-spirit as a husband and wife meets us

also in the harvest customs of Bali and Lombok, two islands which lie

immediately to the east of Java. “The inhabitants of Lombok,” we are told,

“think of the rice-plant as animated by a soul. They regard it as one with

a divinity and treat it with the distinction and honour that are shewn to

a very important person. But as it is impossible to treat all the

rice-stalks in a field ceremoniously, the native, feeling the need of a

visible and tangible representative of the rice-deity and taking a part

for the whole, picks out some stalks and conceives them as the visible

abode of the rice-soul, to which he can pay his homage and from which he

hopes to derive advantage. These few stalks, the foremost among their many

peers, form what is called the _ninin pantun_ by the people of Bali and

the _inan paré_ by the Sassaks” of Lombok.(609) The name _ina paré_ is

sometimes translated Rice-mother, but the more correct translation is said

to be “the principal rice.” The stalks of which this “principal rice”

consists are the first nine shoots which the husbandman himself takes with

his own hands from the nursery or bedding-out ground and plants at the

upper end of the rice-field beside the inlet of the irrigation water. They

are planted with great care in a definite order, one of them in the middle

and the other eight in a circle about it. When the whole field has been

planted, an offering, which usually consists of rice in many forms, is

made to “the principal rice” (_inan paré_). When the rice-stalks begin to

swell the rice is said to be pregnant, and the “principal rice” is treated

with the delicate attentions which are paid to a woman with child. Thus

rice-pap and eggs are laid down beside it, and sour fruits are often

presented to it, because pregnant women are believed to long for sour

fruit. Moreover the fertilisation of the rice by the irrigation water is

compared to the union of the goddess Batari Sri with her husband Ida

Batara (Vishnu), who is identified with the flowing water. Some people

sprinkle the pregnant rice with water in which cooling drugs have been

infused or with water which has stood on a holy grave, in order that the

ears may fill out well. When the time of harvest has come, the owner of

the field himself makes a beginning by cutting “the principal rice” (_inan

paré_ or _ninin pantun_) with his own hands and binding it into two

sheaves, each composed of one hundred and eight stalks with their leaves

attached to them. One of the sheaves represents a man and the other a

woman, and they are called “husband and wife” (_istri kakung_). The male

sheaf is wound about with thread so that none of the leaves are visible,

whereas the female sheaf has its leaves bent over and tied so as to

resemble the roll of a woman’s hair. Sometimes, for further distinction, a

necklace of rice-straw is tied round the female sheaf. The two sheaves are

then fastened together and tied to a branch of a tree, which is stuck in

the ground at the inlet of the irrigation water. There they remain while

all the rest of the rice is being reaped. Sometimes, instead of being tied

to a bough, they are laid on a little bamboo altar. The reapers at their

work take great care to let no grains of rice fall on the ground,

otherwise the Rice-goddess would grieve and weep at being parted from her

sisters, who are carried to the barn. If any portion of the field remains

unreaped at nightfall, the reapers make loops in the leaves of some of the

standing stalks to prevent the evil spirits from proceeding with the

harvest during the hours of darkness, or, according to another account,

lest the Rice-goddess should go astray. When the rice is brought home from

the field, the two sheaves representing the husband and wife are carried

by a woman on her head, and are the last of all to be deposited in the

barn. There they are laid to rest on a small erection or on a cushion of

rice-straw along with three lumps of _nasi_, which are regarded as the

attendants or watchers of the bridal pair. The whole arrangement, we are

informed, has for its object to induce the rice to increase and multiply

in the granary, so that the owner may get more out of it than he put in.

Hence when the people of Bali bring the two sheaves, the husband and wife,

into the barn, they say “Increase ye and multiply without ceasing.” When a

woman fetches rice from the granary for the use of her household, she has

to observe a number of rules, all of which are clearly dictated by respect

for the spirit of the rice. She should not enter the barn in the dark or

at noon perhaps because the spirit may then be supposed to be sleeping.

She must enter with her right foot first. She must be decently clad with

her breasts covered. She must not chew betel, and she would do well to

rinse her mouth before repairing to the barn, just as she would do if she

waited on a person of distinction or on a divinity. No sick or menstruous

woman may enter the barn, and there must be no talking in it, just as

there must be no talking when shelled rice is being scooped up. When all

the rice in the barn has been used up, the two sheaves representing the

husband and wife remain in the empty building till they have gradually

disappeared or been devoured by mice. The pinch of hunger sometimes drives

individuals to eat up the rice of these two sheaves, but the wretches who

do so are viewed with disgust by their fellows and branded as pigs and

dogs. Nobody would ever sell these holy sheaves with the rest of their

profane brethren.(610)

(M170) The same notion of the propagation of the rice by a male and female

power finds expression amongst the Szis of Upper Burma. When the paddy,

that is, the rice with the husks still on it, has been dried and piled in

a heap for threshing, all the friends of the household are invited to the

threshing-floor, and food and drink are brought out. The heap of paddy is

divided and one half spread out for threshing, while the other half is

left piled up. On the pile food and spirits are set, and one of the

elders, addressing “the father and mother of the paddy-plant,” prays for

plenteous harvests in future, and begs that the seed may bear many fold.

Then the whole party eat, drink, and make merry. This ceremony at the

threshing-floor is the only occasion when these people invoke “the father

and mother of the paddy.”(611)

§ 5. The Spirit of the Corn embodied in Human Beings.

(M171) Thus the theory which recognises in the European Corn-mother,

Corn-maiden, and so forth, the embodiment in vegetable form of the

animating spirit of the crops is amply confirmed by the evidence of

peoples in other parts of the world, who, because they have lagged behind

the European races in mental development, retain for that very reason a

keener sense of the original motives for observing those rustic rites

which among ourselves have sunk to the level of meaningless survivals. The

reader may, however, remember that according to Mannhardt, whose theory I

am expounding, the spirit of the corn manifests itself not merely in

vegetable but also in human form; the person who cuts the last sheaf or

gives the last stroke at threshing passes for a temporary embodiment of

the corn-spirit, just as much as the bunch of corn which he reaps or

threshes. Now in the parallels which have been hitherto adduced from the

customs of peoples outside Europe the spirit of the crops appears only in

vegetable form. It remains, therefore, to prove that other races besides

our European peasantry have conceived the spirit of the crops as

incorporate in or represented by living men and women. Such a proof, I may

remind the reader, is germane to the theme of this book; for the more

instances we discover of human beings representing in themselves the life

or animating spirit of plants, the less difficulty will be felt at

classing amongst them the King of the Wood at Nemi.

(M172) The Mandans and Minnitarees of North America used to hold a

festival in spring which they called the corn-medicine festival of the

women. They thought that a certain Old Woman who Never Dies made the crops

to grow, and that, living somewhere in the south, she sent the migratory

waterfowl in spring as her tokens and representatives. Each sort of bird

represented a special kind of crop cultivated by the Indians: the wild

goose stood for the maize, the wild swan for the gourds, and the wild duck

for the beans. So when the feathered messengers of the Old Woman began to

arrive in spring the Indians celebrated the corn-medicine festival of the

women. Scaffolds were set up, on which the people hung dried meat and

other things by way of offerings to the Old Woman; and on a certain day

the old women of the tribe, as representatives of the Old Woman who Never

Dies, assembled at the scaffolds each bearing in her hand an ear of maize

fastened to a stick. They first planted these sticks in the ground, then

danced round the scaffolds, and finally took up the sticks again in their

arms. Meanwhile old men beat drums and shook rattles as a musical

accompaniment to the performance of the old women. Further, young women

came and put dried flesh into the mouths of the old women, for which they

received in return a grain of the consecrated maize to eat. Three or four

grains of the holy corn were also placed in the dishes of the young women,

to be afterwards carefully mixed with the seed-corn, which they were

supposed to fertilise. The dried flesh hung on the scaffold belonged to

the old women, because they represented the Old Woman who Never Dies. A

similar corn-medicine festival was held in autumn for the purpose of

attracting the herds of buffaloes and securing a supply of meat. At that

time every woman carried in her arms an uprooted plant of maize. They gave

the name of the Old Woman who Never Dies both to the maize and to those

birds which they regarded as symbols of the fruits of the earth, and they

prayed to them in autumn saying, “Mother, have pity on us! send us not the

bitter cold too soon, lest we have not meat enough! let not all the game

depart, that we may have something for the winter!” In autumn, when the

birds were flying south, the Indians thought that they were going home to

the Old Woman and taking to her the offerings that had been hung up on the

scaffolds, especially the dried meat, which she ate.(612) Here then we

have the spirit or divinity of the corn conceived as an Old Woman and

represented in bodily form by old women, who in their capacity of

representatives receive some at least of the offerings which are intended

for her.

(M173) The Miamis, another tribe of North American Indians, tell a tale in

which the spirit of the corn figures as a broken-down old man. They say

that corn, that is, maize, first grew in heaven, and that the Good Spirit

commanded it to go down and dwell with men on earth. At first it was

reluctant to do so, but the Good Spirit prevailed on it to go by promising

that men would treat it well in return for the benefit they derived from

it. “So corn came down from heaven to benefit the Indian, and this is the

reason why they esteem it, and are bound to take good care of it, and to

nurture it, and not raise more than they actually require, for their own

consumption.” But once a whole town of the Miamis was severely punished

for failing in respect for the corn. They had raised a great crop and

stored much of it under ground, and much of it they packed for immediate

use in bags. But the corn was so plentiful that much of it still remained

on the stalks, and the young men grew reckless and played with the shelled

cobs, throwing them at each other, and at last they even broke the cobs

from the growing stalks and pelted each other with them too. But a

judgment soon followed on such wicked conduct. For when the hunters went

out to hunt, though the deer seemed to abound, they could kill nothing. So

the corn was gone and they could get no meat, and the people were hungry.

Well, one of the hunters, roaming by himself in the woods to find

something to eat for his aged father, came upon a small lodge in the

wilderness where a decrepit old man was lying with his back to the fire.

Now the old man was no other than the Spirit of the Corn. He said to the

young hunter, “My grandson, the Indians have afflicted me much, and

reduced me to the sad state in which you see me. In the side of the lodge

you will find a small kettle. Take it and eat, and when you have satisfied

your hunger, I will speak to you.” But the kettle was full of such fine

sweet corn as the hunter had never in his life seen before. When he had

eaten his fill, the old man resumed the thread of his discourse, saying,

“Your people have wantonly abused and reduced me to the state you now see

me in: my back-bone is broken in many places; it was the foolish young men

of your town who did me this evil, for I am Mondamin, or corn, that came

down from heaven. In their play they threw corn-cobs and corn-ears at one

another, treating me with contempt. I am the corn-spirit whom they have

injured. That is why you experience bad luck and famine. I am the cause;

you feel my just resentment, therefore your people are punished. Other

Indians do not treat me so. They respect me, and so it is well with them.

Had you no elders to check the youths at their wanton sport? You are an

eye-witness of my sufferings. They are the effect of what you did to my

body.” With that he groaned and covered himself up. So the young hunter

returned and reported what he had seen and heard; and since then the

Indians have been very careful not to play with corn in the ear.(613)

(M174) In some parts of India the harvest-goddess Gauri is represented at

once by an unmarried girl and by a bundle of wild balsam plants, which is

made up into the figure of a woman and dressed as such with mask,

garments, and ornaments. Both the human and the vegetable representative

of the goddess are worshipped, and the intention of the whole ceremony

appears to be to ensure a good crop of rice.(614)

§ 6. The Double Personification of the Corn as Mother and Daughter.

(M175) Compared with the Corn-mother of Germany and the Harvest-maiden of

Scotland, the Demeter and Persephone of Greece are late products of

religious growth. Yet as members of the Aryan family the Greeks must at

one time or another have observed harvest customs like those which are

still practised by Celts, Teutons, and Slavs, and which, far beyond the

limits of the Aryan world, have been practised by the Indians of Peru, the

Dyaks of Borneo, and many other natives of the East Indies—a sufficient

proof that the ideas on which these customs rest are not confined to any

one race, but naturally suggest themselves to all untutored peoples

engaged in agriculture. It is probable, therefore, that Demeter and

Persephone, those stately and beautiful figures of Greek mythology, grew

out of the same simple beliefs and practices which still prevail among our

modern peasantry, and that they were represented by rude dolls made out of

the yellow sheaves on many a harvest-field long before their breathing

images were wrought in bronze and marble by the master hands of Phidias

and Praxiteles. A reminiscence of that olden time—a scent, so to say, of

the harvest-field—lingered to the last in the title of the Maiden (_Kore_)

by which Persephone was commonly known. Thus if the prototype of Demeter

is the Corn-mother of Germany, the prototype of Persephone is the

Harvest-maiden, which, autumn after autumn, is still made from the last

sheaf on the Braes of Balquhidder. Indeed, if we knew more about the

peasant-farmers of ancient Greece, we should probably find that even in

classical times they continued annually to fashion their Corn-mothers

(Demeters) and Maidens (Persephones) out of the ripe corn on the

harvest-fields.(615) But unfortunately the Demeter and Persephone whom we

know were the denizens of towns, the majestic inhabitants of lordly

temples; it was for such divinities alone that the refined writers of

antiquity had eyes; the uncouth rites performed by rustics amongst the

corn were beneath their notice. Even if they noticed them, they probably

never dreamed of any connexion between the puppet of corn-stalks on the

sunny stubble-field and the marble divinity in the shady coolness of the

temple. Still the writings even of these town-bred and cultured persons

afford us an occasional glimpse of a Demeter as rude as the rudest that a

remote German village can shew. Thus the story that Iasion begat a child

Plutus (“wealth,” “abundance”) by Demeter on a thrice-ploughed field,(616)

may be compared with the West Prussian custom of the mock birth of a child

on the harvest-field.(617) In this Prussian custom the pretended mother

represents the Corn-mother (_Žytniamatka_); the pretended child represents

the Corn-baby, and the whole ceremony is a charm to ensure a crop next

year.(618) The custom and the legend alike point to an older practice of

performing, among the sprouting crops in spring or the stubble in autumn,

one of those real or mimic acts of procreation by which, as we have seen,

primitive man often seeks to infuse his own vigorous life into the languid

or decaying energies of nature.(619) Another glimpse of the savage under

the civilised Demeter will be afforded farther on, when we come to deal

with another aspect of these agricultural divinities.

(M176) The reader may have observed that in modern folk-customs the

corn-spirit is generally represented either by a Corn-mother (Old Woman,

etc.) or by a Maiden (Harvest-child, etc.), not both by a Corn-mother and

by a Maiden. Why then did the Greeks represent the corn both as a mother

and a daughter?

(M177) In the Breton custom the mother-sheaf—a large figure made out of

the last sheaf with a small corn-doll inside of it—clearly represents both

the Corn-mother and the Corn-daughter, the latter still unborn.(620)

Again, in the Prussian custom just referred to, the woman who plays the

part of Corn-mother represents the ripe grain; the child appears to

represent next year’s corn, which may be regarded, naturally enough, as

the child of this year’s corn, since it is from the seed of this year’s

harvest that next year’s crop will spring. Further, we have seen that

among the Malays of the Peninsula and sometimes among the Highlanders of

Scotland the spirit of the grain is represented in double female form,

both as old and young, by means of ears taken alike from the ripe crop: in

Scotland the old spirit of the corn appears as the Carline or _Cailleach_,

the young spirit as the Maiden; while among the Malays of the Peninsula

the two spirits of the rice are definitely related to each other as mother

and child.(621) Judged by these analogies Demeter would be the ripe crop

of this year; Persephone would be the seed-corn taken from it and sown in

autumn, to reappear in spring.(622) The descent of Persephone into the

lower world would thus be a mythical expression for the sowing of the

seed; her reappearance in spring would signify the sprouting of the young

corn. In this way the Persephone of one year becomes the Demeter of the

next, and this may very well have been the original form of the myth. But

when with the advance of religious thought the corn came to be

personified, no longer as a being that went through the whole cycle of

birth, growth, reproduction, and death within a year, but as an immortal

goddess, consistency required that one of the two personifications, the

mother or the daughter, should be sacrificed. However, the double

conception of the corn as mother and daughter may have been too old and

too deeply rooted in the popular mind to be eradicated by logic, and so

room had to be found in the reformed myth both for mother and daughter.

This was done by assigning to Persephone the character of the corn sown in

autumn and sprouting in spring, while Demeter was left to play the

somewhat vague part of the heavy mother of the corn, who laments its

annual disappearance underground, and rejoices over its reappearance in

spring. Thus instead of a regular succession of divine beings, each living

a year and then giving birth to her successor, the reformed myth exhibits

the conception of two divine and immortal beings, one of whom annually

disappears into and reappears from the ground, while the other has little

to do but to weep and rejoice at the appropriate seasons.(623)

(M178) This theory of the double personification of the corn in Greek myth

assumes that both personifications (Demeter and Persephone) are original.

But if we suppose that the Greek myth started with a single

personification, the after-growth of a second personification may perhaps

be explained as follows. On looking over the harvest customs which have

been passed under review, it may be noticed that they involve two distinct

conceptions of the corn-spirit. For whereas in some of the customs the

corn-spirit is treated as immanent in the corn, in others it is regarded

as external to it. Thus when a particular sheaf is called by the name of

the corn-spirit, and is dressed in clothes and handled with

reverence,(624) the spirit is clearly regarded as immanent in the corn.

But when the spirit is said to make the crops grow by passing through

them, or to blight the grain of those against whom she has a grudge,(625)

she is apparently conceived as distinct from, though exercising power

over, the corn. Conceived in the latter way the corn-spirit is in a fair

way to become a deity of the corn, if she has not become so already. Of

these two conceptions, that of the corn-spirit as immanent in the corn is

doubtless the older, since the view of nature as animated by indwelling

spirits appears to have generally preceded the view of it as controlled by

external deities; to put it shortly, animism precedes deism. In the

harvest customs of our European peasantry the corn-spirit seems to be

conceived now as immanent in the corn and now as external to it. In Greek

mythology, on the other hand, Demeter is viewed rather as the deity of the

corn than as the spirit immanent in it.(626) The process of thought which

leads to the change from the one mode of conception to the other is

anthropomorphism, or the gradual investment of the immanent spirits with

more and more of the attributes of humanity. As men emerge from savagery

the tendency to humanise their divinities gains strength; and the more

human these become the wider is the breach which severs them from the

natural objects of which they were at first merely the animating spirits

or souls. But in the progress upwards from savagery men of the same

generation do not march abreast; and though the new anthropomorphic gods

may satisfy the religious wants of the more developed intelligences, the

backward members of the community will cling by preference to the old

animistic notions. Now when the spirit of any natural object such as the

corn has been invested with human qualities, detached from the object, and

converted into a deity controlling it, the object itself is, by the

withdrawal of its spirit, left inanimate; it becomes, so to say, a

spiritual vacuum. But the popular fancy, intolerant of such a vacuum, in

other words, unable to conceive anything as inanimate, immediately creates

a fresh mythical being, with which it peoples the vacant object. Thus the

same natural object comes to be represented in mythology by two distinct

beings: first by the old spirit now separated from it and raised to the

rank of a deity; second, by the new spirit, freshly created by the popular

fancy to supply the place vacated by the old spirit on its elevation to a

higher sphere. For example, in Japanese religion the solar character of

Ama-terasu, the great goddess of the Sun, has become obscured, and

accordingly the people have personified the sun afresh under the name of

_Nichi-rin sama_, “sun-wheeling personage,” and _O tentō sama_,

“august-heaven-path-personage”; to the lower class of Japanese at the

present day, especially to women and children, _O tentō sama_ is the

actual sun, sexless, mythless, and unencumbered by any formal worship, yet

looked up to as a moral being who rewards the good, punishes the wicked,

and enforces oaths made in his name.(627) In such cases the problem for

mythology is, having got two distinct personifications of the same object,

what to do with them? How are their relations to each other to be

adjusted, and room found for both in the mythological system? When the old

spirit or new deity is conceived as creating or producing the object in

question, the problem is easily solved. Since the object is believed to be

produced by the old spirit, and animated by the new one, the latter, as

the soul of the object, must also owe its existence to the former; thus

the old spirit will stand to the new one as producer to produced, that is,

in mythology, as parent to child, and if both spirits are conceived as

female, their relation will be that of mother and daughter. In this way,

starting from a single personification of the corn as female, mythic fancy

might in time reach a double personification of it as mother and daughter.

It would be very rash to affirm that this was the way in which the myth of

Demeter and Persephone actually took shape; but it seems a legitimate

conjecture that the reduplication of deities, of which Demeter and

Persephone furnish an example, may sometimes have arisen in the way

indicated. For example, among the pairs of deities dealt with in a former

part of this work, it has been shewn that there are grounds for regarding

both Isis and her companion god Osiris as personifications of the

corn.(628) On the hypothesis just suggested, Isis would be the old

corn-spirit, and Osiris would be the newer one, whose relationship to the

old spirit was variously explained as that of brother, husband, and

son;(629) for of course mythology would always be free to account for the

coexistence of the two divinities in more ways than one. It must not,

however, be forgotten that this proposed explanation of such pairs of

deities as Demeter and Persephone or Isis and Osiris is purely

conjectural, and is only given for what it is worth.