FIRE OR SUN WORSHIP AND ITS ATTENDANT SUPERSTITIONS.
Most glorious orb! thou wert a worship, ere
The mystery of thy making was reveal'd!
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,
Which gladden'd, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour'd
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God!
And representative of the Unknown--
Who chose thee for his shadow!
_Byron._
Let us meditate on the adorable light of the divine ruler,
(Savitri, the sun); may it guide our intellects.
_Vedic Hymn._
In his own image the Creator made,
His own pure sunbeam quicken'd, thee, O man!
Thou breathing dial! Since thy day began
The present hour was ever markt with shade.
_W. Savage Landor._
I have said that some remains of the fire worship of Bel or Beil, until
very recently, might be found in Lancashire and the North of England, as
well as at present in Scotland and Ireland. Indeed, I am inclined to
think certain English customs of the peasantry, at the present day, may,
with perfect truthfulness, be referred to this source, although the
original objects of the ceremonies may have been, either wholly or in
part, obliterated by time, or obscured by the action of more recent
rites and traditional observances.
Amongst these may be instanced a superstition prevalent in the North of
England and many other places, that a funeral procession, when arrived
at the churchyard, must move in the sun's course; that is, from east to
west; otherwise evil resulted to the spirit of the departed. This
sentiment is not confined to religious ceremonies, but is respected when
passing the bottle in convivial assemblies; and in several other matters
of ordinary every-day life. The fact that Brand, and most of the earlier
writers after the Reformation, speak of these superstitions as "Popish,"
in no way invalidates the assignment to them of an Aryan origin. As
early as the eleventh century, in the reign of Canute the Great, we
find laws strictly prohibiting the people from worshipping, or
venerating, "the sun, moon, sacred groves and woods, and hallowed hills
and fountains." Decrees were again and again pronounced in vain against
many of these practices by the ecclesiastical authorities. In the canons
of the Northumberland clergy, quoted by Wilkins and Hallam, we read as
follows:--
"If a king's thane deny this (_the practice of heathen superstition_),
let twelve be appointed for him, and let him take twelve of his kindred
(or equals, _maga_), and twelve British strangers; and if he fail, then
let him pay for his breach of law, twelve half-marcs: if a landowner (or
lesser thane) deny the charge, let as many of his equals and as many
strangers be taken as for a royal thane; and if he fail, let him pay six
half-marcs: If a ceorl deny it, let as many of his equals and as many
strangers be taken for him as for the others; and if he fail, let him
pay twelve oræ for his breach of law."
This demonstrates that all classes, whatever their rank, found it
difficult to shake off the superstitions of their forefathers. Some of
them became amalgamated with more modern festive ceremonies, and were
eventually intermingled with the formulæ of the Christian worship
itself. Sir Jno. Lubbock, in his recent work, "The Origin of
Civilization and the Primitive Condition of Man," endorses this view. He
says: "When man, either by natural progress, or the influence of a more
advanced race, rises to the conception of a higher religion, _he still
retains his old beliefs, which long linger on, side by side with_, and
yet in utter opposition to, the higher creed. The new and more powerful
spirit is an addition to the old Pantheon, and diminishes the importance
of the older deities; gradually, the worship of the latter sinks in the
social scale, and becomes confined to the ignorant and the young. Thus a
belief in witchcraft still flourishes among our agricultural labourers
and the lowest classes in our great cities, and the deities of our
ancestors survive in the nursery tales of our children. We must,
therefore, expect to find in each race, traces--nay, more than
traces--of lower religions."
In the Irish Glossary of Cormac, Archbishop of Cashel, written in the
beginning of the tenth century, the author says, in his time "four great
fires were lighted up on the four great festivals of the Druids, viz.,
in February, May, August, and November." General Valancey says the Irish
have discontinued their November fires and substituted candles; while
the Welsh, though they retain the fire, "can give no reason for the
illumination." All Saints' Day is on the first of November, and its
vigil is termed Allhalloween, or Nutcrack night. Those festivals had
all reference to the seasons, and their influence on the fruitfulness of
the earth. Brand says "it is customary on this night with young people
in the north of England to dive for apples, or catch at them, when stuck
upon one end of a kind of hanging beam, at the other extremity of which
is fixed a lighted candle, and that with their mouths only, their hands
being tied behind their backs." Robert Burns tells us that Halloween is
thought to be a "night when witches, devils, and other mischief making
beings, are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands; particularly
those ærial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand
anniversary." Scotch girls, on this evening, pull, blindfolded, cabbage
stalks, in order to divine the size and figure of their future husbands.
Nuts are roasted or flung into the fire for a similar purpose both in
Scotland and England. Gay describes the latter ceremony as follows:--
Two hazel nuts I threw into the flame,
And to each nut I gave a sweetheart's name;
This with the _loudest bounce_ me sore amazed,
That in a _flame of brightest colour_ blazed;
_As blazed the nut so may thy passion grow_,
For 'twas thy nut that did so brightly glow!
We possess some interesting accounts of these gatherings in various
parts of Scotland during the latter portion of the last century. In
Perthshire, heath, broom, and dressings of flax were tied to poles,
lighted, and carried round the villages and fields. One minister says
the people "set up bonfires in every village. When the bonfire is
consumed, the ashes are carefully collected into the form of a circle.
There is a stone put in near the circumference, for every person of the
several families interested in the bonfire; and whatever stone is
removed out of its place or injured before the next morning, the person
represented by that stone is devoted, or _fey_, and is supposed not to
live twelve months from that day. The people received the consecrated
fire from the Druid priests next morning, the virtues of which were
supposed to continue a year." A similar authority says, "the custom of
making a fire in the fields, baking a consecrated cake, &c., on the 1st
of May is not yet quite worn out."
In Derbyshire these fires were called _Tindles_, and were kindled at the
close of the last century. In some localities the ceremony is called a
_Tinley_. Sir William Dugdale says, "On All-Hallow Even the master of
the family anciently used to carry a bunch of straw, fired, about his
corne, saying--
"Fire and red low
Light on my _teen low_."
In Lancashire they are called _tandles_ and _teanlas_. In Ireland
May-day eve is called _neen na Bealtina_, the eve of Bael fires. The
practice of divination by the roasting of nuts is yet common in
Lancashire. The hollow cinder, too, which leaps from a coal fire, is
supposed to augur wealth or death to the person against whom it strikes,
in proportion as its shape nearest resembles a purse or a coffin.
Mr. Thornber, the historian of Blackpool, and Mr. T. T. Wilkinson, of
Burnley, author of a series of valuable papers on Lancashire
superstitions published in the "Transactions of the Lancashire and
Cheshire Historic Society," have furnished some curious information of a
local character with reference to this ancient fire-worship. The latter
says:--"Such fires are still lighted in Lancashire, on Hallowe'en, under
the names of Beltains or Teanleas; and even the _cakes_ which 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 cakes, however, are now connected with
superstitious notions respecting purgatory, &c., but their origin and
perpetuation will scarcely admit of doubt." He further observes:--"The
practice of 'causing children to pass through the fire to Moloch,' so
strongly reprobated by the prophet of old, may be cited as an instance
in which Christianity has not yet been able to efface all traces of one
of the oldest forms of heathen worship."
Mr. Thornber says:--"The conjoint worship of the sun and moon, the Samen
and Sama, husband and wife of nature, has been from these early times so
firmly implanted that ages have not uprooted it. Christianity has not
banished it.... In my youth, on Hallowe'en, under the name of Teanla
fires, I have seen the hills throughout the country illuminated with
sacred flames, and I can point out many a cairn of fire-broken
stones--the high places of the votaries of Bel--where his rites have
been performed on the borders of the Ribble age after age. Nor at this
day are these mysteries silenced; with a burning whisp of straw at the
point of a fork on Sama's festival at the eve of All-hallows, the farmer
in some districts of the Fylde encircles his field to protect the coming
crop from noxious weeds, the tare and darnel; the old wife refuses to
sit the eggs under her crackling hen after sunset; the ignorant boy sits
astride a stile, as he looks at the new moon; the bride walks not
widdershins to church on her nuptial moon; and if the aged parent
addresses not the young pair in the words of Hanno, the Carthaginian in
the P[oe]nula of Plautus, 'O that the good Bel-Samen may favour them,'
or, like the Irish peasant, 'The blessing of Sama and Bel go with you;'
still, we have often heard the benediction, 'May the sun shine bright
upon you,' in accordance with the old adage,
'Blest is the corpse the rain fell on,
Blest the bride on whom the sun shone.'"
M. Du Chaillu, in his recent "Journey into Ashango-land and further
penetration into Equatorial Africa," speaks of a certain superstitious
reverence for fire and faith in its medical virtues by the inhabitants
of the region he traversed. He relates the following beautiful story
respecting their astronomical notions:--"I was not always so solitary in
taking my nightly observations, for sometimes one and another of my men
or Mayola" (the king or chief), "would stand by me. Of course, I could
never make them comprehend what I was doing. Sometimes I used to be
amused by their ideas about the heavenly bodies. Like all other
remarkable natural objects, they are the subject of whimsical myths
amongst them. According to them, the sun and moon are of the same age,
but the sun brings daylight and gladness and the moon brings darkness,
witchcraft, and death--for death comes from sleep, and sleep commences
in darkness. The sun and moon, they say, once got angry with each other,
each one claiming to be the eldest. The moon said, 'Who are you, to dare
to speak to me? You are alone; you have no people. What! are you to
consider yourself equal to me? Look at me,' she continued, showing the
stars shining around her, 'these are my people; I am not alone in the
world like you.' The sun answered, 'Oh, moon, you bring witchcraft, and
it is you have killed all my people, or I should have as many attendants
as you.' According to the negroes, people are more liable to die when
the moon first makes her appearance and when she is last visible. They
say that she calls the people her insects and devours them. The moon
with them is the emblem of time and death."
The Teutonic tribes appear, contrary to the general faith of their Aryan
kindred, to have regarded the sun as a female and the moon as a male
deity. Palgrave, in his "History of the Anglo-Saxons," says:--"They had
an odd notion that if they addressed that power as a goddess, their
wives would be their masters."
I am strongly inclined to think that the continuance of the practice of
lighting bonfires on the 5th of November owes quite as much to the
associations connected with the ancient teanla fires of Allhalloween, as
to any present Protestant horror of the treason of Guy Fawkes and his
band of conspirators. It may be quite true that the House of Commons, in
February, 1605-6 did ordain that the 5th of November should be kept as
"_a holiday_ FOR EVER in thankfulness to God for our deliverance, and
detestation of the Papists;" but ordinances of this class seldom produce
more than a temporary excitement amongst large masses of the people. I
remember, in my youth, "assisting" at the celebration of several
"bonfire days" in Preston and its neighbourhood, sometimes as amateur
pyrotechnic artist, when we enjoyed our "fun" without any reference to
Protestant or Catholic proclivities. Few, except the better educated,
knew what the "Gunpowder Plot" really meant. Some associated it mainly
with our own pyrotechnic efforts and other attendant consumption of the
explosive compound, on the then special occasion. I rather fancy the
ancient November "Allhallow fires" have in their decadence, merged into
the modern "Gunpowder Plot" bonfires; and hence the reason why, in some
rural districts, they yet abound, while they are fast disappearing from
our more populous towns. I was surprised to find, when riding on an
omnibus from Manchester for about five miles on the Bury-road, on the
evening of a recent anniversary of this "holiday," that I could count,
near and on the horizon, fires of this description by the dozen, and
yet, while in Manchester, I had remained ignorant of the fact that
bonfire associations were influencing the conduct of any section of
society. The merging of one superstition, custom, habit, or tradition,
into another, is one of the most ordinary facts of history.
Mr. Richard Edwards, in his "Land's End District," gives a very graphic
account of the bonfires lighted up in Cornwall on _Midsummer eve_. Some
of the details sufficiently resemble those of our northern "gunpowder
plot" demonstrations to prove that a Guy Fawkes and an Act of Parliament
are not absolutely necessary to make a bonfire festivity attractive to
the descendants of the fire-worshippers of old. He says:--
"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
father's 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.... In the early part of the
evening, children may be seen wreathing 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
ofttimes leaping over the yet glowing embers. I have, on these
occasions, seen boys following one another, jumping through flames
higher than themselves. But while this is now done innocently, in every
sense of the word, we all know that the passing of children through fire
was a very common act of idolatry; and the heathen believed that all
persons, and all living things, submitted to this ordeal, would be
preserved from evil throughout the year."
I remember well the bonfire processions during election periods, at
Preston, above forty years ago, in the palmy days of the late Mr. Henry
Hunt. It is not improbable that a remnant of the old superstition
hovered about them; and that a latent belief in the "luck-bringing"
qualities of fire, to a slight extent, influenced their promoters.
A few years ago I visited, in company with Mr. Thornber, a field at
Hardhorn, near Poulton, and was shown by that gentleman some of the
stones yet remaining of what he has for many years regarded as the
remains of a very ancient Teanlea cairn. Some of the stones bore marks
of fire. The mound must, however, have been neglected for a length of
time, inasmuch as the shrewd old farmer who had destroyed it had no
recollection or traditionary knowledge respecting the use to which it
had been appropriated. But from the ashes and other indications of fire
which the upper portion of the cairn presented, the worthy husbandman
felt confident that "it hed bin a blacksmith's forge i' th' olden time."
Godfrey Higgins in his "Celtic Druids," asserts, on the authority of
Hayman Rooke, that "so late as the year 1786, the custom of lighting
fires was continued at the Druid temple at Bramham, near Harrowgate,
Yorkshire, on the eve of the summer solstice." The Bramham crags
referred to present a singularly curious specimen of the partial
disintegration of huge rocks belonging to the millstone grit series.
Their present peculiar forms are not now attributed by the learned to
human agency, in any marked degree at least, but to the denuding action
of water, frost, and other geological conditions or phenomena.
Nevertheless, from the wild and even weird aspect of the group and its
elevated site, it is by no means improbable that it has been used in
early times as a place of worship, or as the locality for the
performance of superstitious rites of the class referred to. Doubtless,
other localities of a similar character might be pointed out. "Beacon
Fell," near "Parlick Pike," and the "Tandle Hills," near Rochdale, may
have been used as places of public assembly, and for the performance of
similar superstitious observances. The same may be said of Ingleborough,
which yet exhibits remains of Keltic occupation.
This fire-worship, amongst a barbarous people, appears to have had by no
means a strange or unnatural origin. Mr. Walter Kelly, after a very
elaborate analysis, concludes that the Prometheus of the Greeks and the
Vedic Mâtarisvan are "essentially the same." "The elder fire-gods, Agni
and Rudra," he says, "had a troop of fire-kindling attendants, called
Pramathas or Pramâthas," and he regards Prometheus as the Greek form of
this word. He calls attention to the fact that Diodorus says of the
celebrated Titan, that "according to the mythographers he stole fire
from the gods, but that in reality he was the inventor of the
fire-making instrument." The discoverer of the chark, or "fire-drill,"
an instrument for obtaining fire by artificial means, would be so great
a benefactor to a people that had to suffer all the inconveniences
resulting from occasional fireless hearths, that we may well understand
why he should be invested by his astonished and delighted fellow-savages
with miraculous or supernatural powers.[11] Doubtless the production of
fire by the rubbing together of two pieces of dry timber preceded this
discovery, but, under many circumstances, the operation must have been a
most laborious one, and ofttimes impracticable. But with the "chark" the
result was nearly as certain as when flint, steel, and tinder were
employed for this purpose. It was a very simple instrument indeed, but
it has nevertheless exercised a marvellous influence on the destinies of
mankind. It consisted merely of a piece of soft dry wood with a hole
drilled in its centre, into which a rod of hard wood, ash, or oak, was
placed, and caused to revolve with rapidity by a cord, passed round it,
being pulled and slackened at each end alternately. A wheel and its axle
have hence become types of the sun and the thunderbolt. Fire produced in
this original way was considered sacred. Even the Greeks and Romans, as
well as the Kelts, and some Christian populations until recent times,
adopted the same or a similar process in the lighting of fires connected
with religious ceremonies. Mr. Kelly says "the Church has not quite yet
succeeded in effacing the vestiges of their heathen origin. This is
especially evident in the usages of many districts, where the purity of
the Easter fire (an idea borrowed from Pagan tradition) is secured by
deriving the kindling flame either from the consecrated Easter candles,
or from the new-born and perfectly pure element produced by the priest
from flint and steel." The Vedic chark was made from the wood of two
sacred trees; "the sami sprang from heavenly fire sent down to earth,
and the asvattha from the vessel which contained it." Kelly adds:--"The
idea of marriage, suggested by such a union of the two trees, is also
developed in the Veda with great amplitude and minuteness of detail, and
is a very prominent element in the whole cycle of myths connected with
the chark." Doubtless, we have here exposed the root of the entire
system of phallic worship, stripped of much, if not all, of the
grossness afterwards attendant upon it. It appears that amongst the
Peruvians, who were sun-worshippers, the great national festival was
held at the summer solstice. They collected the rays of that luminary in
a concave mirror, by which means they rekindled their fires. Sometimes,
indeed, they obtained their "need-fire" by friction of wood. Amongst the
Mexicans likewise grand religious celebrations took place at the close
of the fifty-second year, when the extinguished fires were rekindled "by
the friction of sticks." This is a very general practice amongst savage
tribes at the present day. Mr. Angus says some of the western tribes of
Australia "have no means of kindling fire. They say that it formerly
came from the north." Should that of one tribe unfortunately become
extinguished, there was nothing for it but journeying to a neighbouring
encampment and borrowing a light. The Tasmanians are in the same
predicament. The Fegeeans obtain fire by friction. So do other South Sea
Islanders, as well as many of the North American Indians. The Dacotahs
and Iroquois use an instrument not unlike the drilling bow at present
employed for a certain class of work in Europe. According to Father
Gabian, fire was utterly unknown to the natives of the Ladrone Islands
"till Magellan, provoked by their repeated thefts, burned one of their
villages. When they saw their wooden houses blazing, they first thought
the fire a beast which fed upon wood, and some of them, who came too
near, being burnt, the rest stood afar off, lest they should be devoured
or poisoned by this powerful animal."
The practice of kindling original or "need-fire" from a superstitious
reverence of its sacred character, is yet very common in various parts
of Germany, Scotland, and Ireland, and even in England. Mr. Kemble
quotes, from the Lanercost Chronicle, of the year 1268, a denunciation
by the pious writer, of a practice which "certain bestial persons, monks
in garb but not in mind," had taught the ignorant peasantry. This
practice consisted in the extraction of fire from wood by friction, and
the setting up of what he styles a "simulacrum Priapi," with a view to
protect their cattle from disease. This image of Priapus is supposed to
refer to the sun-god Fro or Fricco, who, according to Wolf, was
worshipped until a very recent period in Belgium, under the form of
Priapus. Priapus, the god of gardens or fertility, was the son of
Bacchus and Venus. In the more mountainous portions of Wales a remnant
of evidently heathen image-worship, of a somewhat similar character,
survived till relatively modern times. In the reign of Henry the Eighth,
an idol, or what old Fuller calls "a great lubberly image," was removed
from the diocese of St. Asaph, and publicly burnt in Smithfield. This
image was known by the name of "Darvell Gatheron;" and it was said that
the country people were in the habit of sacrificing oxen and sheep to
it. Hence its condemnation by the church authorities.
Grimm refers to a remarkable instance of this superstition, which
occurred in the island of Mull as recently as 1767, which vividly
illustrates the "toughness" of tradition, as Dasent expresses it. He
says:--"In consequence of a disease amongst the black cattle, the people
agreed to perform an incantation, though they esteemed it a wicked
thing. They carried to the top of Carnmoor a wheel and 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 as the
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." Many other
instances might be cited in Scotland and Ireland: but the one most to
the present purpose is related by Mr. T. T. Wilkinson, in which a
Lancashire man "unconsciously resorted to the old worship of Baal, and
consumed a live calf in a fire, in order to counteract the influences of
his unknown enemies." This individual was well known to Mr. Wilkinson.
He firmly believed that witchcraft was at the root of all his troubles,
and that his cattle had died in consequence of its spells. It appears he
had previously tried the famous Lancashire expedient to render his
stables and shippons proof against his supernatural enemies--the nailing
of horseshoes on all his doors--without obtaining the desired result;
so, in desperation, knowing the tradition, he sacrificed a living calf
to the fire-god Bel!
The following paragraph appeared in the _Pall Mall Gazette_, on the 29th
of June, 1867:--
"The accounts given by the Irish newspapers of the extent to which the
old superstition of fire-lighting on Midsummer eve still prevails show
how slowly the relics of Paganism disappear among country people, and
how natural it was that the old idolatries should come at last to be
known as the creed of the 'Pagana,' the dwellers in villages. These
Midsummer fires, lighted annually on the hills, are simply relics of the
worship of Bel. Beltane-day, or Belteine, is still a May-day as well as
a Midsummer festival in the more ignorant districts of Scotland as well
as of Ireland, and similar superstitious practices are connected with
the lighting of the fires; and, what is still more remarkable, the word
is still used in some Scotch almanacs as a term well-known to everybody.
In a number of the _Scotsman_ a few years ago appeared the announcement
that 'On Beltane-day Mr. Robertson was elected convener of the Trades of
Cannongate in Edinburgh.' The next year the following is to be
found:--'On Beltane-day the weavers, dyers, etc., of the Cannongate
re-elected their office bearers.'"[12]
The records of the Presbytery of Dingwall show that as recently as the
latter portion of the seventeenth century, on the island of Innis Maree,
in Loch Maree, bulls were offered up as a sacrifice, and milk offered on
the hill sides as a libation. In the year 1678, the Presbytery took
action against some of the Mackenzie family, "for sacrificing a bull in
a heathenish manner, in the island of St. Rufus, for the recovery of the
health of Cirstane Mackenzie, who was formerly sick and valetudinarie."
Mr. Henderson, in his "Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties," mentions an
instance, "within fifteen years ago," of "a herd of cattle, in that
county (Moray) being attacked with fever," when, "one of them was
sacrificed by burning alive, as a propitiatory offering for the rest."
Mr. Robert Hunt, in his "Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old
Cornwall," published in 1865, says that he has been informed "that
within the last few years a calf has been thus sacrificed by a farmer in
a district where churches, chapels, and schools abound." He afterwards
adds:--"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 Pontreath, for the purpose of removing a disease which
had long followed his horses and 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.'"
The Midsummer fires, at the vigil of St. John the Baptist, and the yule
log ceremonies at Christmas, may be referred to a similar origin. Brand
says:--"The Pagan rites of this festival (Midsummer Eve) at the summer
solstice may be considered as a counterpart of those used at the winter
solstice at Yule-tide." The wheel, the type of the sun, was common to
both festivities. Darand describes the practice, at the feast of St.
John, of rolling about a wheel, "to signify that the sun, then occupying
the highest place in the zodiac, was beginning to descend." The old
poet, Naogeorgus, describes the wheel as being covered with straw, which
was set on fire at the top of a high mountain, and then despatched on
its downward course. He adds that the people imagined all their ill luck
accompanied the wheel in its descent.
The writer of the old homily _De Festo Sancti Johannis Baptistæ_, when
referring to these observances, speaks of three fires being kindled, one
of which was called "a Bone fire; another is clene woode and no bones,
and that is called a Wode fire, for people to sit and wake thereby; the
third is made of wode and bones, and is called Saynt Johanny's Fyre.[13]
The first fyre, as a great clerke, Johan Belleth, telleth he saw in a
certayne countrey, so in the countrey there was soo greate hete the
which causid that dragons to go together in tokenynge that Johan dyed in
brennynge love and charyté of God and man.... Then as these dragons
flewe in th' ayre, they shed down to the water froth of ther Kynde, and
so envenymed the waters, and caused moche people for to take theyr deth
thereby, and many dyverse sykenesse. Wyse clerkes knoweth well that
dragons hate nothyng more than the stenche of brennynge bones, and
therefore they gaderyd as many as they mighte fynde, and brent them; and
so with the stenche thereof they drove away the dragons, and so they
were brought out of greete dysease."
Brand regards this as a "pleasant piece of absurdity;" but it appears
that the quaint old writer, after all, is but relating that which was
believed to be true in his own age, and which after-gained knowledge
enables us to distinguish as a remnant of the old Aryan superstition or
myth, in a mediæval dress. These rolling fiery wheels, burning brands,
bonfires, and processions round fields, &c., are common to both the
Keltic and Teutonic branches of the Aryan race, and have evidently a
similar origin. Kemble quotes an ancient Latin MS., which he found
among the Harleian collection, which gives a precisely similar
description of the St. John's fires. It is not improbable that it may
have been written by the "learned clerke Johan Belleth," to whom the
writer of the homily refers. Walter Kelly, speaking of it says, "Here we
have again the primitive Aryan dragon Ahi, at his old work in the sultry
midsummer weather." He contends that all the details referred to, as
attendant on the St. John's fires, have been demonstrated by Dr. Kuhn to
be "in striking accordance with the Vedic legend of Indra's fight with
the midsummer demons. The passage quoted by Kemble, besides stating
expressly that the course of the blazing wheel was meant to represent
the descent of the sun from its solstitial height, brings the St. John's
fires in immediate connection with the dragons that poison the waters,
just as did the demon Vritra, otherwise called Ahi, the dragon. He
possessed himself of the sun-wheel and the treasures of Heaven, seized
the (white) women, kept them prisoners in his cavern, and laid a curse
on the waters, until Indra released the captives and took off the curse.
The same conception is repeated in countless legends of mountains that
open on St. John's day, when the imprisoned white women come forth, and
the hour approaches in which the spell laid upon them and upon the
buried treasures will be broken.... Here we see at once that the German"
(and Keltic) "custom was nothing else than a dramatic representation of
the great elemental battle portrayed in the sacred books of the southern
Aryans. In the one the blazing wheel stands on the top of the hill, in
the other the sun stands on the summit of the cloud mountain. Both
descend from their heights, and both are extinguished, the sun in the
cloud sea, behind the cloud mountain, the wheel in the river at the foot
of the hill." One name given to a combatant on the dragon's side is
Kuyava, which is interpreted the "harvest spoiler, or the spoiled
harvest." The following passage in the Rig Veda is uttered by Indra,
when he resolves to destroy the monster,--"Friend Vishnu, stride vastly;
sky give room for the thunderbolt to strike; let us slay Vritra and let
loose the waters." His worshippers likewise exclaim,--"When, thunderer,
thou didst by thy might slay Vritra, who stopped up the streams, then
thy dear steeds grew."
The Rev. G. W. Cox says:--"The Nemean lion is the offspring of Typhon,
Orthros, or Echidna; in other words it is sprung from Vritra, the dark
thief, and Ahi, the throttling snake of darkness, and it is as surely
slain by Heracles as the snakes which had assaulted him in his cradle.
Another child of the same horrid parents is the Lernaian Hydra, its
very name denoting a monster who, like the Sphinx or the Panis, shuts up
the waters and causes drought. It has many heads, one being immortal, as
the storm must constantly supply new clouds, while the vapours are
driven off by the sun into space. Hence the story went that although
Heracles could burn away its mortal heads, as the sun burns up the
clouds, still he can but hide away the mist or vapour itself, which at
its appointed time must again darken the sky."
Dr. Kuhn contends that the clothing of wheels with straw and the
extinguishing of them when set on fire by immersion in a river, as is
done in the vine-growing districts of Germany, with the view to secure a
good harvest, is to be referred to this source. In support of his view,
he enters into an elaborate philological argument to show that _yava_
must have originally meant grass in general, afterwards cereal grasses,
and that its root gave birth to the name of the grain from which the
oldest bread-stuff known was made. He says--"But I go still further, and
I believe that _Kuyava_ was also regarded as the spoiler of vegetation
in general, who parched up the plants used in making the fermented
liquor, soma, and amongst these plants the Hindus included _yava_,
which, in this case, meant barley or rice. It will be seen in the sequel
that the demon possesses himself also of the heavenly soma (the moisture
of the clouds), that he is robbed of it by Indra, and that the like
conception is found also among the Greeks and the Germans. This, then,
sufficiently explains the hope of a good wine year, which was associated
with the victory in the above-described German customs."
The Venerable Bede, in his treatise on the "Nature of Things," gives us
what may be termed the scientific view respecting rain and lightning
which obtained about his time. It is singularly in accordance with Dr.
Kuhn's interpretation of the myth now under consideration. He says:--
"Lightning is produced by the rubbing together of clouds, after the
manner of flints struck together, the thunder occurring at the same
time, but sound reaches the ears more slowly than light the eyes. For
all things the collision creates fire. Some say that while air draws
water in vapour from the depths, it draws also fire heat-wise, and by
their contact the horrid crash of thunder is produced; and _if the fire
conquer, it will be injurious to fruits; if water beneficial_; but that
the fire of lightning has so much the more penetrative power, from being
made of subtler elements than that which is in use by us."
It is merely necessary that the rhetorical figure, personification, be
freely applied to this passage, with due reverence towards the ancient
superstitions, and the mythic element which lies at the root of these
singular customs is reproduced.
It is evident the whole have reference to the influence of the burning
heat of the midsummer sun, which induces long droughts, and parches the
soil and the vegetation; and to the delight engendered when that heat is
mitigated, and the scorched earth is again rendered fruitful by copious
showers, the product of the thunderstorm. And to this source, Mr. Kelly
justly contends, may be referred all the supernatural dragon stories of
our nurseries, whether fought "by Pagan or Christian champions, from
Apollo, Hercules, and Siegfried, down to St. George, and to that modern
worthy More, of Morehall,
Who slew the dragon of Wantley."
The learned Pettingall has shown that the dragon slain by the English
champion and patron, St. George, was, by the ancient Orientals, engraved
on amulets, and that it was intended to symbolise the virtues of
Mithras, the sun. He says, "From the Pagans the use of these charms
passed to the Basilidians, and in their Abraxas, the traces of the
antient Mithras and the more modern St. George, are equally visible. In
the dark ages, the Christians borrowed their superstitions from the
heretics, but they disguised the origin of them, and transformed into
the saint the sun of the Persians and the archangel of the
Gnostics."[14]
Dr. Wilson, when speaking of the art examples pertaining to what is
termed, in Western Europe, the "Stone age," says,--
"In no single case is any attempt made to imitate leaf or flower, bird,
beast, or any simple, natural object; and when in the bronze work of the
later Iron period, imitative forms at length appear, they are chiefly
the snake and dragon shapes and patterns, borrowed seemingly by Celtic
and Teutonic wanderers, with the wild fancies of their mythology, from
the far Eastern cradle-land of their birth."
Marsden, in his "History of Sumatra," says that during an eclipse, the
natives make "a loud noise with sounding instruments, to prevent one
luminary from devouring the other, as the Chinese, to frighten away the
dragon, a superstition that has its source in the ancient systems of
astronomy (particularly the Hindu), where the nodes of the moon are
identified with the dragon's head and tail."
The dragon was the standard of the West Saxons, and of the English
previous to the Norman Conquest. It formed one of the supporters of the
Royal arms borne by all our Tudor monarchs, with the exception of Queen
Mary, who substituted the eagle. Several of the Plantagenet kings and
princes inscribed a figure of the dragon on their banners and shields.
Peter Langtoffe says, at the battle of Lewis, fought in 1264:--
"The King (Henry III.) schewed forth his schild his Dragon full
austere."
Another authority says the said king ordered to be made "a dragon in the
manner of a banner, of a certain red silk embroidered with gold; its
tongue like a flaming fire must always seem to be moving; its eyes must
be made of sapphire, or of some other stone suitable for that purpose."
Notwithstanding the transformations which several of them may have
undergone from relatively modern local influences, there can be little
doubt the fiery-dragon and the numerous huge-worm traditions of the
North of England enshrine relics of Aryan superstitions. Besides the
dragon Ahi, we have the Vedic great serpent Sesha, to which reference
has been made in the first chapter of this work. We find the Dêvas, when
at war with their enemies the Asuras, agreed to a truce in order that
they might "churn the ocean," and so procure some soma or drink of the
gods, or milk the heavenly cows (the clouds) wherewith to slake their
grievous thirst. They coiled this great serpent around a hill or
mountain in the sea, and used him as a rope under whose action the hill
spun rapidly round until the heavenly liquor (rain water) was procured
in sufficient quantity. The famous Lambton worm, when coiled round a
hill, was pacified with copious draughts of milk, and his blood flowed
freely when he was pierced by the spear heads attached to the armour of
the returned crusader.[15] The Linton worm coiled itself round a hill,
and by its poisonous breath, destroyed the neighbouring animal and
vegetable life. The knight who destroyed it used burning pitch in the
operation. The contractions of this huge worm in dying, are said to have
left indented spiral lines on the sides of Warmington hill. The Pollard
worm is described as "a venomous serpent which did much harm to man and
beast," while that of Stockburn is designated as the "worm, _dragon, or
fiery flying serpent_ which destroyed man, woman, and child." These
worms were said to have been slain by the spears or swords of knights,
evidently modern substitutes for the thunderbolt of Indra, the ancient
Aryan "god of the firmament." A _bonâ fide_ slain worm, however, seems
from the records to have been a very small affair in comparison with the
gigantic monsters of the Durham traditions. Towards the end of the
seventeenth century, a writer of the family history of the Somervilles,
referring to the worm which John Somerville slew, in the reign of
William the Lion, avers that it was "in length three Scots yards, and
somewhat bigger than an ordinary man's leg, with a head more
proportionable to its length than greatness, in form and colour like to
our common muir-edders." As the valour of Indra fertilised the earth; so
virtue of a similar quality in a high degree procured broad lands for
the earthly champion, from his grateful sovereign.
It is by no means improbable, if, as Mr. D. Haigh contends, in his
"Conquest of Britain by the Saxons," the scene of the fine old
Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf, was near Hartlepool, in the county of Durham,
that these monster worm traditions of the north of England may be the
remains of the mythic superstitions therein embodied.[16] The giant and
sprite Grendel, the "Ghost-slayer," and his equally sanguinary mother,
are evidently personifications of evil influences. After Beowulf had
despatched the male monster, he proceeded to the pool, in the _depths of
which_ he successfully contended with the female. As he and his
followers sat in the deep shadow of the wood overhanging the
"_bottomless_" pool "they saw along the water many of the _worm-kind_,
strange _sea dragons_, also in clefts of the ness Nickers lying."
Professor Henry Morley, in his "English Writers," gives a summary of the
poem, the following passage in which demonstrates the great antiquity of
this superstition:--
"Afterward the broad land came under the sway of Beowulf. He held it
well for fifty winters, until in the dark nights a dragon, which in a
stone mound watched a hoard of gold and cups, won mastery. It was a
hoard heaped up in sin, its lords were long since dead; the last earl,
before dying, hid it in the earth-cave, and for three hundred winters
the _great scather_ held the cave, until some man, finding by chance a
rich cup, took it to his lord. Then the den was searched while the worm
slept; again and again when the dragon awoke there had been theft. He
found not the man, but _wasted the whole land with fire_; nightly, the
_fiendish air-flyer made fire grow hateful_ to the sight of men. Then it
was told to Beowulf.... He sought out the dragon's den and fought with
him in awful strife. One wound the poison-worm struck in the flesh of
Beowulf.... Then, while the warrior-king sat deathsick on a stone, he
sent his thanes to see the cups and dishes in the den of the dread
twilight-flyer.... He said, 'I for this gold have wisely sold my life;
let others care now for the people's need. I may be here no longer.'"
Mr. John Mitchell Kemble, who published an amended prose translation of
Beowulf, in 1833, considered the poem to be founded upon legends which
existed anterior to the conquest of the northern part of Britain by the
Angles. Beowulf he regarded as the name of a god, one of the ancestors
of Woden, and who appears in the poem "as a defender, a protecting and
redeeming being." The hero belonged to the tribe of Geáts or Goths. This
word etymologists trace to the Anglo-Saxon geótan and geát, which imply
a pouring forth. One of Odin's names amongst the gods, according to the
Edda, was Gautr, the god of abundance. The monster Grendel is thus
described in the English summary of the poem by Professor Henry
Morley:--
"The grim guest was Grendel, he that held the moors, the fen, and
fastness. Forbidden the homes of mankind, the daughters of Cain brought
forth in darkness misshapen giants, elves, and orkens, such giants as
long warred with God, and he was one of these." The reference to the
daughters of Cain would seem to suggest an interpolation by a
transcriber after the introduction of Christianity.
Geoffrey of Monmouth relates a story of a certain mythic King of
Northumbria named Morvidus, who was less fortunate than Beowulf,
inasmuch as he lost his life, and gained nothing for his people by its
sacrifice. But then, we are informed, he "was a most cruel tyrant." It
appears that the land north of the Humber was invaded in great force by
a king of the Moreni (near Boulogne). He was defeated by Morvidus, who
abused his victory by the most monstrous acts of cruelty. Whilst thus
engaged, Geoffrey informs us that "there came from the coasts of the
Irish Sea a most cruel monster, that was continually devouring the
people upon the sea coasts. As soon as he heard of it, he ventured to go
and encounter it alone. When he had in vain spent all his darts upon it,
the monster rushed upon him, and with open jaws swallowed him up like a
small fish."
These dragon monsters are often found in connection with imprisoned
maidens, and treasures buried in caves or the inner recesses of
mountains. Some mythographers regard the maiden as a personification of
the dawn imprisoned by the darkness of the night, and afterwards freed
by the rays of the sun. In the Vedic myths, besides Ahi, the throttling
snake, and Vritra, the dragon, there is Pani, the thief and seducer, who
stole the cows of Indra from their heavenly pastures, hid them in his
dark cloud cave, and attempted to corrupt Sarama (the dawn), when, at
the bidding of the lightning-god, she demanded the restoration of the
plundered cattle. Max Müller, the Rev. G. W. Cox, and others, contend
that these incidents underlie most of the mythical epics of all the
Aryan nations. They say that the siege of Troy, even, "is a reflection
of the daily siege of the East by the solar powers that every evening
are robbed of their brightest treasures in the West."
The celebrated mediæval metrical romance, "Kyng Alisaunder," translated
into English verse, in the thirteenth century, by an unknown author, is
a complete _repertoire_ of these dragon, worm, and monster
superstitions. According to it, the hero was the son of a magician who
appeared to his mother in the form of a great dragon of the air. At his
birth "the earth shook, the sea became green, the sun ceased to shine,
the moon appeared and became black, the thunder crashed." The original
is said to have been written by Simeon Seth, keeper of the imperial
wardrobe at Constantinople, about the year 1060. It is founded on
Oriental legends, and was translated and enlarged into Latin and French
before the English version appeared. Many of its monstrosities are
evidently degraded forms of Grecian and other Aryan myths.
The celebrated prophecy of Merlin, in Geoffrey of Monmouth's "History of
Britain," is full of malignant dragons, white and red, which fight
furiously, and "cast forth fire with their breath." The red dragon, in
one instance, the prophet says, "shall return to his proper manners, and
turn his rage upon himself. Therefore shall the _revenge of the
Thunderer show itself, for every field shall disappoint the husbandman_.
Mortality shall snatch away the people, and make a desolation over all
countries."
Dragons, huge worms, and serpents appear frequently to be confounded in
Merlin's prophecy.[17] One sentence reads thus: "She shall be
encompassed with the adder of Lincoln, who with a horrible hiss shall
give notice of his presence to a multitude of dragons. Then shall the
dragons encounter and tear one another to pieces. The winged shall
oppress that which wants wings, and fasten its claws into the poisonous
cheeks." In another instance, the Aryan dragon, or harvest destroyer, is
very apparent. Merlin says:--"To him shall succeed a husbandman of
Albania, at whose back shall be a serpent. He shall be employed in
ploughing the ground, that the country may become white with corn. _The
serpent shall endeavour to diffuse his poison, in order to blast the
harvest._" Again he says:--"There shall be a miserable desolation of the
kingdom, and the floors of the harvests shall return to the fruitful
forests. The white dragon shall rise again, and invite over a daughter
of Germany. Our gardens shall be again replenished with foreign seed,
and the red one shall pine away at the end of the pond. After that shall
the German worm be crowned, and the brazen prince buried." Merlin's red
and white dragons are intended directly to personify the British and
Saxon races of men, as the red and white roses in after time served as
emblems of the houses of Lancaster and York; but the origin of the
mythic form of expression is very apparent.
The _Saxon Chronicle_ contains a paragraph under the date 793, which
illustrates the power of this superstition in the North of England at
that period. The passage itself likewise supplies sufficient evidence to
connect its interpretation with the Aryan myth under consideration. We
read: "A. 793. This year dire forewarnings came over the land of the
North-humbrians, and miserably terrified the people; these were
excessive whirlwinds and _lightnings_; and _fiery dragons_ were seen
flying in the air. _A great famine soon followed these tokens._"
Mr. Baring-Gould says,--"In a Slovakian legend the dragon sleeps in a
mountain cave through the winter months, but at the equinox bursts
forth. 'In a moment the heaven was darkened and became black as pitch,
only illumined by the fire which flashed from the dragon's jaws and
eyes. The earth shuddered, the stones rattled down the mountain sides
into the glens; right and left, left and right, did the dragon lash his
tail, overthrowing pines and bushes, and snapping them as reeds. He
evacuated such floods of water that the mountain torrents were full. But
after a while his power was exhausted; he lashed no more with his tail,
ejected no more water, and spat no more fire.'" Mr. Gould adds,--"I
think it impossible not to see in this description a spring-tide
thunderstorm."
The following paragraph, published in the _Calcutta Englishman_ last
year (1871), demonstrates that this class of superstition still lingers
in India:--
"AN ASTRONOMICAL PREDICTION.--The _Urdu Akhbar_ says that Maulvi
Mohammed Salimuz-yaman, the famous astronomer of Rampur, whose
deductions have generally turned out right, has foretold that in the
coming year (1872) a blaze of light resembling a shooting star, the like
of which no mortal has yet seen, will be visible in the sky. 'It will
dazzle the eyes of the people of particular places with lustre, and,
after remaining for a _ghari_ (_i.e._, 24 minutes), will vanish. The
direction in which it will make its appearance will be the North Pole,
and accordingly the people of northern countries will see it distinctly.
Probably the natives of China and Persia will likewise have a sight of
it. The effect of this meteor will be that the extent of the globe over
which its light will fall will be visited by famine during the year, and
a large number of the people inhabiting it will be destroyed, while
vegetation will be also scanty.'"
Veritable comets appear to have at times been confounded with these
fiery dragons. On the death of Aurelius Ambrosius, brother to Uther,
father of the renowned Arthur, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth,
"there appeared a star of wonderful magnitude and brightness, darting
forth a ray, at the end of which was a globe of fire, in form of a
dragon, out of whose mouth issued two rays, one of which seemed to
stretch out itself beyond the extent of Gaul, the other towards the
Irish sea, and ended in seven lesser rays."
Geoffrey further informs us that, after Uther's first great victory,
"remembering the explanation which Merlin had made of the star above
mentioned, he commanded two dragons to be made of gold, in likeness of
the dragon which he had seen at the ray of the star. As soon as they
were finished, which was done with wonderful nicety of workmanship, he
made a present of one to the cathedral church of Winchester, but
reserved the other for himself to be carried along with him to his wars.
From this time, therefore, he was called Uther Pendragon, which, in the
British tongue, signifies the dragon's head; the occasion of this
appellation being Merlin's prediction, from the appearance of the
dragon, that he should be king." The same "historical" romancer likewise
informs us that the redoubtable Arthur himself, after he had embarked at
Southampton, on his expedition against Rome, about midnight, during a
brisk gale, in a dream, "saw a bear flying in the air, at the noise of
which all the shores trembled; also a terrible dragon flying from the
west, which enlightened the country with the brightness of its eyes.
When these two met they began a dreadful fight; but the dragon, with its
fiery breath, burned the bear which often assaulted him, and threw him
down scorched to the ground." This, of course, was interpreted to augur
Arthur's victory over the Emperor. Singularly enough, as has been before
observed, we find, in authentic history, that the "Golden Dragon" was
the standard of the _Saxon_ kings of Wessex. When Cuthred defeated
"Ethelbald the Proud," King of Mercia, at Beorgforda (Burford, in
Oxfordshire), in 752, "the golden dragon, the ensign of Wessex," was
borne by his general, Ethelhun, termed "the presumptuous alderman,"
owing to a previous unsuccessful act of rebellion.
Dragon superstitions appear to have been earnestly believed by mediæval
alchemists, and even early chemists and physicians. An old German work
on alchemy (1625) informs us, as "a great wonder and very strange," that
the dragon contains the greatest "medicament," and that "there is a
dragon lives in the forest who has no want of poison; when he sees the
sun or fire he spits venom, which flies about fearfully. No living
animal can be cured of it; even the basilisk does not equal him. He who
can properly kill this serpent has overcome all his danger. His colours
increase in death; physic is produced from his poison, which he
entirely consumes, and eats his own venomous tail. This must be
accomplished by him, in order to produce the noblest balm. Such great
virtue as we will point out herein that all the learned shall rejoice."
The poison spitted out on sight of the sun or fire is evidently
analogous to the breath of the Aryan dragon Ahi, who scorched the earth.
The conqueror of the said dragon takes the place of Indra, who, by
discharging his lightning spear into the rain cloud, subdues the
monster, and converts his poison (excessive heat), into a medicine or
balm, which aids in the fertilisation of the earth.
This is in accordance with the Greek legend, which asserted that
Æsculapius or Asklêpios, the god of medicine, "wrought his wonderful
cures through the blood of Gorgo." Hence the serpent became his symbol.
At Epidaurus the god was supposed to manifest himself in the form of a
yellowish brown snake, abundant in that neighbourhood. It frequented the
temple, was large in size, but harmless and easily tamed. The Rev. G. W.
Cox, says, "throughout Hellas, Asklêpios remained the healer and
restorer of life, and accordingly the serpent is everywhere his special
emblem, as the mythology of the Linga would lead us to expect." Again he
says, "the symbol of the Phallos in its physical characteristics
suggested the form of the serpent, which thus became the emblem of life
and healing, and as such appears by the side of the Hellenic Asklêpios,
and in the brazen crucified serpent venerated by the Jewish people until
it was destroyed by Hezekiah."
According to the Edda, the Scandinavians believed that after the various
gods had, for a considerable time, alternately overthrown each other,
the "fiery snake" would consume "universal nature with all-destroying
flames." The word "Edda" means "Mother of Poetry." The contents of the
Edda have been styled "half oriental and half northern."
Remains of ancient serpent worship have been recently discovered in
America and in Scotland. Some writers indeed regard the temples at Abury
and Stonehenge as belonging to this class. One in North America,
described by Mr. Squier, is a mound 700 feet long, fashioned in the form
of a serpent. At the recent meeting of the British Association in
Edinburgh, Mr. John S. Phené, F.G.S., described a mound of this
character, which he had discovered in Argyleshire. A large cairn forms
the head of the monster, which is 300 feet in length. The spinal column,
with its sinuous windings, is distinctly marked out by carefully
adjusted stones, now covered with peat. To detect the exact form of the
entire reptile, it is necessary that the whole should be seen at one
view from above. A megalithic chamber was found beneath the head of the
serpent, or saurian, which contained burnt earth and bones, charcoal,
and charred nutshells, and a flint implement with the edge serrated like
a saw. The mound is described as being in a remarkably perfect
condition, considering its great antiquity.
Some writers, and notably one, some years ago in "Chambers's Journal,"
discoursing on dragon superstitions, have suggested, as remains of the
traditionary Moa of New Zealand is still said to be found in some
portions of the islands, that our early ancestors may have had a slight
knowledge of the existence of some of the huge saurian reptiles, known
to us geologically in the fossil condition. This attempt to give a
naturalistic solution of the problem at first sight is very plausible;
but it falls to the ground at once, when the nature of geological time
is taken into consideration. The earliest remains of man, including the
flint implements in the higher river gravels, pertain to what Lyell
terms the post-pliocene period. The huge lizards or saurians of the
oolitic period had become extinct countless ages previously. The same
may be said, though in a relatively lesser degree, of the huge
Dinotherium found in the Upper Miocene formation. Some writers, indeed,
who advocate the hypothesis of man's descent by "natural selection" or
"evolution," from the lower animals, contend that some antitype of
humanity _may_ have lived in the Miocene period, but of this we have no
evidence. The extinct gigantic animals, found in connection with the
oldest known remains of man, are pachyderms, which in no way resemble,
either in their habits, or by the most strained metaphor, in their
forms, the dragons and serpents of the Aryan mythology or their modern
descendants in British history and tradition. The discovery of their
bones has undoubtedly had something to do with giants and other monsters
of the mythic class, of which more will be said in another chapter.
FOOTNOTES:
[11] Du Chaillu, in his "Journey to Ashango-land," relates a story in
which he suddenly struck a light with a lucifer match, to the
astonishment of the benighted Africans, who regarded the feat as an
additional proof of his being the "Oguisi" or "spirit" they had declared
him to be.
[12] The _Dundee Advertiser_, Nov. 1869, contained the following
paragraph:--
HALLOWE'EN AT BALMORAL CASTLE.--This time-honoured festival was duly
celebrated at Balmoral Castle on Saturday evening, in a manner not soon
to be forgotten by those who took part in the enjoyments of the evening.
As the shades of evening were closing in upon the Strath, numbers of
torch-lights were observed approaching the Castle, both from the
cottages on the eastern portion of the estate and also those on the
west. The torches from the western side were probably the more numerous,
and as the different groups gathered together the effect was very fine.
Both parties met in front of the Castle, the torch-bearers numbering
nearly one hundred. Along with those bearing the torches were a great
many people belonging to the neighbourhood. Dancing was commenced by the
torch-bearers dancing a "Huachan" in fine style, to the lilting strains
of Mr. Ross, the Queen's piper. The effect was greatly heightened by the
display of bright lights of various colours from the top of the
staircase of the Tower. After dancing for some time, the torch-bearers
proceeded round the Castle in martial order, and as they were proceeding
down the granite staircase at the northwest corner of the Castle, the
procession presented a singularly beautiful and romantic appearance.
Having made the circuit of the Castle, the remainder of the torches were
thrown in a pile at the south-west corner, thus forming a large bonfire,
which was speedily augmented with other combustibles until it formed a
burning mass of huge proportions, round which dancing was spiritedly
carried on. Her Majesty witnessed the proceedings with apparent interest
for some time, and the company enjoyed themselves none the less heartily
on that account. Mr. Begg, distiller, Lochnagar, had also a splendid
bonfire on Cairnbeg, round which merry groups danced torch in hand.
[13] I have not met with a thoroughly satisfactory etymology of the word
bonfire. It may mean good fire, that is sacred fire, or bone-fire, as
the old writer suggests; but I am inclined to think _boon_ fire is worth
consideration, as the ceremonies and sacrifices were performed in order
to extract a boon, a gift, or favour from the god Bel. Free service
rendered by a tenant to his lord, as part of his tenure, was called boon
work. Dr. Hibbert Ware records an old saying in the north of England to
the effect that when a man has been working for nothing he has "been
served like a boon-shearer."
[14] Since the above was written the following paragraph has appeared in
the newspapers:--
_An Apology for Fire Worship._--Tuesday, the 21st March, 1866, being the
entrance of Sol into the zodiacal sign of the Ram, there was held at the
Persian Embassy, Avenue d'Autin, Paris, the festival of Nourous
Sultaniez, or New Year's Day of the Shah. His Excellency Hassan Ali Khan
presided over a large assemblage of distinguished guests, and informed
them in the course of the festivity that they were celebrating a
red-letter day as old as nineteen centuries before the birth of Christ,
first instituted by Djemchid, of the dynasty of Pischdadiens, who
originated the solar computation of years. His excellency proceeded to
recall the fire-worship of his country, which sprang from the primæval
idolatry having for object that great luminary. It was still to fire
that he fondly looked for the regeneration of Persia. Fire had changed
the face of Europe. With the steam engine, the railroad, the electric
spark, the screw or paddle ship, far more than in gunpowder or rifled
cannon, fire was the great benefactor that would bless one day the land
of his forefathers, who had instinctively worshipped that element in
secret anticipation of what was to come. The remarks of his excellency
were cordially received.
[15] Sir Bernard Burke says the legend asserts that the knight consulted
a witch as to the best method of attacking the monster serpent or
dragon, as this worm is sometimes styled. The witch duly instructed him,
and he was victorious in the combat which followed. A condition,
however, was attached, namely that the knight should follow up the
achievement by slaying as a kind of sacrifice the first living thing he
met. If he failed in this, "for nine generations the lords of Lambton
would never die in their beds." It was intended that a dog should be
placed so as to immediately attract the eye of the conqueror, but
unfortunately the plot was accidentally marred, and the knight's father
first confronted him. Lambton refused to fulfil the condition, under
such circumstances. It is stated to be a fact that afterwards nine
successive lords of Lambton died otherwise than in their beds.
[16] Mr. Haigh fixes Heorot, the site of the mead-hall, or banqueting
home of Hrothgar, chief or king of the Scyldings, at Hartlepool. King
Oswy, brother and successor of St. Oswald, consecrated his daughter
Elfleda to the service of God as a nun, as an act of thanksgiving for
his victory over the pagan Mercian King Penda, at Winwidfield, near
Leeds (some say near Winwick, Lancashire.) Elfleda was placed in the
monastery called Herut-ed (Hartlepool), which is believed to be the
Heorot of the oldest Anglo-Saxon poem extant.
[17] Professor Owen (Palæontology, page 312) gives "slow-worms,
serpents," as the English equivalent of _Ophidia_, the name of his
eleventh order of the class _Reptilia_. Hence the confusion of
traditionary worms, serpents, and dragons is not quite so absurd as
modern non-scientific persons generally imagine. The Rev. G. W. Cox,
referring to the Greek aspect of these mythic monsters, says:--"When the
word Dragon, which is only another form of Dorkas, the clear-eyed
gazelle, became the name for serpents, these mythical beings were
necessarily transformed into snakes."