CHAPTER XIII.

TREE AND PLANT WORSHIP.

The Celts had their own cult of trees, but they adopted local

cults--Ligurian, Iberian, and others. The _Fagus Deus_ (the divine

beech), the _Sex arbor_ or _Sex arbores_ of Pyrenean inscriptions, and

an anonymous god represented by a conifer on an altar at Toulouse,

probably point to local Ligurian tree cults continued by the Celts into

Roman times.[659] Forests were also personified or ruled by a single

goddess, like _Dea Arduinna_ of the Ardennes and _Dea Abnoba_ of the

Black Forest.[660] But more primitive ideas prevailed, like that which

assigned a whole class of tree-divinities to a forest, e.g. the _Fatæ

Dervones_, spirits of the oak-woods of Northern Italy.[661] Groups of

trees like _Sex arbores_ were venerated, perhaps for their height,

isolation, or some other peculiarity.

The Celts made their sacred places in dark groves, the trees being hung

with offerings or with the heads of victims. Human sacrifices were hung

or impaled on trees, e.g. by the warriors of Boudicca.[662] These, like

the offerings still placed by the folk on sacred trees, were attached to

them because the trees were the abode of spirits or divinities who in

many cases had power over vegetation.

Pliny said of the Celts: "They esteem nothing more sacred than the

mistletoe and the tree on which it grows. But apart from this they

choose oak-woods for their sacred groves, and perform no sacred rite

without using oak branches."[663] Maximus of Tyre also speaks of the

Celtic (? German) image of Zeus as a lofty oak, and an old Irish

glossary gives _daur_, "oak," as an early Irish name for "god," and

glosses it by _dia_, "god."[664] The sacred need-fire may have been

obtained by friction from oak-wood, and it is because of the old

sacredness of the oak that a piece of its wood is still used as a

talisman in Brittany.[665] Other Aryan folk besides the Celts regarded

the oak as the symbol of a high god, of the sun or the sky,[666] but

probably this was not its earliest significance. Oak forests were once

more extensive over Europe than they are now, and the old tradition that

men once lived on acorns has been shown to be well-founded by the

witness of archæological finds, e.g. in Northern Italy.[667] A people

living in an oak region and subsisting in part on acorns might easily

take the oak as a representative of the spirit of vegetation or growth.

It was long-lived, its foliage was a protection, it supplied food, its

wood was used as fuel, and it was thus clearly the friend of man. For

these reasons, and because it was the most abiding and living thing men

knew, it became the embodiment of the spirits of life and growth.

Folk-lore survivals show that the spirit of vegetation in the shape of

his representative was annually slain while yet in full vigour, that his

life might benefit all things and be passed on undiminished to his

successor.[668] Hence the oak or a human being representing the spirit

of vegetation, or both together, were burned in the Midsummer fires.

How, then, did the oak come to symbolise a god equated with Zeus. Though

the equation may be worthless, it is possible that the connection lay in

the fact that Zeus and Juppiter had agricultural functions, or that,

when the equation was made, the earlier spirit of vegetation had become

a divinity with functions resembling those of Zeus. The fires were

kindled to recruit the sun's life; they were fed with oak-wood, and in

them an oak or a human victim representing the spirit embodied in the

oak was burned. Hence it may have been thought that the sun was

strengthened by the fire residing in the sacred oak; it was thus "the

original storehouse or reservoir of the fire which was from time to time

drawn out to feed the sun."[669] The oak thus became the symbol of a

bright god also connected with growth. But, to judge by folk survivals,

the older conception still remained potent, and tree or human victim

affected for good all vegetable growth as well as man's life, while at

the same time the fire strengthened the sun.

Dr. Evans argues that "the original holy object within the central

triliths of Stonehenge was a sacred tree," an oak, image of the Celtic

Zeus. The tree and the stones, once associated with ancestor worship,

had become symbols of "a more celestial Spirit or Spirits than those of

departed human beings."[670] But Stonehenge has now been proved to have

been in existence before the arrival of the Celts, hence such a cult

must have been pre-Celtic, though it may quite well have been adopted by

the Celts. Whether this hypothetical cult was practised by a tribe, a

group of tribes, or by the whole people, must remain obscure, and,

indeed, it may well be questioned whether Stonehenge was ever more than

the scene of some ancestral rites.

Other trees--the yew, the cypress, the alder, and the ash, were

venerated, to judge by what Lucan relates of the sacred grove at

Marseilles. The Irish Druids attributed special virtues to the hazel,

rowan, and yew, the wood of which was used in magical ceremonies

described in Irish texts.[671] Fires of rowan were lit by the Druids of

rival armies, and incantations said over them in order to discomfit the

opposing host,[672] and the wood of all these trees is still believed to

be efficacious against fairies and witches.

The Irish _bile_ was a sacred tree, of great age, growing over a holy

well or fort. Five of them are described in the _Dindsenchas_, and one

was an oak, which not only yielded acorns, but nuts and apples.[673] The

mythic trees of Elysium had the same varied fruitage, and the reason in

both cases is perhaps the fact that when the cultivated apple took the

place of acorns and nuts as a food staple, words signifying "nut" or

"acorn" were transferred to the apple. A myth of trees on which all

these fruits grew might then easily arise. Another Irish _bile_ was a

yew described in a poem as "a firm strong god," while such phrases in

this poem as "word-pure man," "judgment of origin," "spell of

knowledge," may have some reference to the custom of writing divinations

in ogham on rods of yew. The other _bile_ were ash-trees, and from one

of them the _Fir Bile_, "men of the tree," were named--perhaps a

totem-clan.[674] The lives of kings and chiefs appear to have been

connected with these trees, probably as representatives of the spirit of

vegetation embodied in the tree, and under their shadow they were

inaugurated. But as a substitute for the king was slain, so doubtless

these pre-eminent sacred trees were too sacred, too much charged with

supernatural force, to be cut down and burned, and the yearly ritual

would be performed with another tree. But in time of feud one tribe

gloried in destroying the _bile_ of another; and even in the tenth

century, when the _bile maighe Adair_ was destroyed by Maelocohlen the

act was regarded with horror. "But, O reader, this deed did not pass

unpunished."[675] Of another _bile_, that of Borrisokane, it was said

that any house in which a fragment of it was burned would itself be

destroyed by fire.[676]

Tribal and personal names point to belief in descent from tree gods or

spirits and perhaps to totemism. The Eburones were the yew-tree tribe

(_eburos_); the Bituriges perhaps had the mistletoe for their symbol,

and their surname Vivisci implies that they were called "Mistletoe

men."[677] If _bile_ (tree) is connected with the name Bile, that of the

ancestor of the Milesians, this may point to some myth of descent from a

sacred tree, as in the case of the _Fir Bile_, or "men of the

tree."[678] Other names like Guidgen (_Viduo-genos_, "son of the tree"),

Dergen (_Dervo-genos_, "son of the oak"), Guerngen (_Verno-genos_, "son

of the alder"), imply filiation to a tree. Though these names became

conventional, they express what had once been a living belief. Names

borrowed directly from trees are also found---Eburos or Ebur, "yew,"

Derua or Deruacus, "oak," etc.

The veneration of trees growing beside burial mounds or megalithic

monuments was probably a pre-Celtic cult continued by the Celts. The

tree embodied the ghost of the person buried under it, but such a ghost

could then hardly be differentiated from a tree spirit or divinity. Even

now in Celtic districts extreme veneration exists for trees growing in

cemeteries and in other places. It is dangerous to cut them down or to

pluck a leaf or branch from them, while in Breton churchyards the yew is

thought to spread a root to the mouth of each corpse.[679] The story of

the grave of Cyperissa, daughter of a Celtic king in the Danube region,

from which first sprang the "mournful cypress,"[680] is connected with

universal legends of trees growing from the graves of lovers until their

branches intertwine. These embody the belief that the spirit of the dead

is in the tree, which was thus in all likelihood the object of a cult.

Instances of these legends occur in Celtic story. Yew-stakes driven

through the bodies of Naisi and Deirdre to keep them apart, became

yew-trees the tops of which embraced over Armagh Cathedral. A yew sprang

from the grave of Bailé Mac Buain, and an apple-tree from that of his

lover Aillinn, and the top of each had the form of their heads.[681] The

identification of tree and ghost is here complete.

The elder, rowan, and thorn are still planted round houses to keep off

witches, or sprigs of rowan are placed over doorways--a survival from

the time when they were believed to be tenanted by a beneficent spirit

hostile to evil influences. In Ireland and the Isle of Man the thorn is

thought to be the resort of fairies, and they, like the woodland fairies

or "wood men" are probably representatives of the older tree spirits and

gods of groves and forests.[682]

Tree-worship was rooted in the oldest nature worship, and the Church had

the utmost difficulty in suppressing it. Councils fulminated against the

cult of trees, against offerings to them or the placing of lights before

them and before wells or stones, and against the belief that certain

trees were too sacred to be cut down or burned. Heavy fines were levied

against those who practised these rites, yet still they continued.[683]

Amator, Bishop of Auxerre, tried to stop the worship of a large

pear-tree standing in the centre of the town and on which the

semi-Christian inhabitants hung animals' heads with much ribaldry. At

last S. Germanus destroyed it, but at the risk of his life. S. Martin of

Tours was allowed to destroy a temple, but the people would not permit

him to attack a much venerated pine-tree which stood beside it--an

excellent example of the way in which the more official paganism fell

before Christianity, while the older religion of the soil, from which it

sprang, could not be entirely eradicated.[684] The Church often effected

a compromise. Images of the gods affixed to trees were replaced by those

of the Virgin, but with curious results. Legends arose telling how the

faithful had been led to such trees and there discovered the image of

the Madonna miraculously placed among the branches.[685] These are

analogous to the legends of the discovery of images of the Virgin in the

earth, such images being really those of the _Matres_.

Representations of sacred trees are occasionally met with on coins,

altars, and _ex votos_.[686] If the interpretation be correct which sees

a representation of part of the Cúchulainn legend on the Paris and

Trèves altars, the trees figured there would not necessarily be sacred.

But otherwise they may depict sacred trees.

We now turn to Pliny's account of the mistletoe rite. The Druids held

nothing more sacred than this plant and the tree on which it grew,

probably an oak. Of it groves were formed, while branches of the oak

were used in all religious rites. Everything growing on the oak had been

sent from heaven, and the presence of the mistletoe showed that God had

selected the tree for especial favour. Rare as it was, when found the

mistletoe was the object of a careful ritual. On the sixth day of the

moon it was culled. Preparations for a sacrifice and feast were made

beneath the tree, and two white bulls whose horns had never been bound

were brought there. A Druid, clad in white, ascended the tree and cut

the mistletoe with a golden sickle. As it fell it was caught in a white

cloth; the bulls were then sacrificed, and prayer was made that God

would make His gift prosperous to those on whom He had bestowed it. The

mistletoe was called "the universal healer," and a potion made from it

caused barren animals to be fruitful. It was also a remedy against all

poisons.[687] We can hardly believe that such an elaborate ritual merely

led up to the medico-magical use of the mistletoe. Possibly, of course,

the rite was an attenuated survival of something which had once been

more important, but it is more likely that Pliny gives only a few

picturesque details and passes by the _rationale_ of the ritual. He does

not tell us who the "God" of whom he speaks was, perhaps the sun-god or

the god of vegetation. As to the "gift," it was probably in his mind the

mistletoe, but it may quite well have meant the gift of growth in field

and fold. The tree was perhaps cut down and burned; the oxen may have

been incarnations of a god of vegetation, as the tree also may have

been. We need not here repeat the meaning which has been given to the

ritual,[688] but it may be added that if this meaning is correct, the

rite probably took place at the time of the Midsummer festival, a

festival of growth and fertility. Mistletoe is still gathered on

Midsummer eve and used as an antidote to poisons or for the cure of

wounds. Its Druidic name is still preserved in Celtic speech in words

signifying "all-healer," while it is also called _sùgh an daraich_, "sap

of the oak," and _Druidh lus_, "Druid's weed."[689]

Pliny describes other Celtic herbs of grace. _Selago_ was culled without

use of iron after a sacrifice of bread and wine--probably to the spirit

of the plant. The person gathering it wore a white robe, and went with

unshod feet after washing them. According to the Druids, _Selago_

preserved one from accident, and its smoke when burned healed maladies

of the eye.[690] _Samolus_ was placed in drinking troughs as a remedy

against disease in cattle. It was culled by a person fasting, with the

left hand; it must be wholly uprooted, and the gatherer must not look

behind him.[691] _Vervain_ was gathered at sunrise after a sacrifice to

the earth as an expiation--perhaps because its surface was about to be

disturbed. When it was rubbed on the body all wishes were gratified; it

dispelled fevers and other maladies; it was an antidote against

serpents; and it conciliated hearts. A branch of the dried herb used to

asperge a banquet-hall made the guests more convivial[692]

The ritual used in gathering these plants--silence, various tabus,

ritual purity, sacrifice--is found wherever plants are culled whose

virtue lies in this that they are possessed by a spirit. Other plants

are still used as charms by modern Celtic peasants, and, in some cases,

the ritual of gathering them resembles that described by Pliny.[693] In

Irish sagas plants have magical powers. "Fairy herbs" placed in a bath

restored beauty to women bathing therein.[694] During the _Táin_

Cúchulainn's wounds were healed with "balsams and healing herbs of fairy

potency," and Diancecht used similar herbs to restore the dead at the

battle of Mag-tured.[695]

FOOTNOTES:

[659] Sacaze, _Inscr. des Pyren._ 255; Hirschfeld, _Sitzungsberichte_

(Berlin, 1896), 448.

[660] _CIL_ vi. 46; _CIR_ 1654, 1683.

[661] D'Arbois, _Les Celtes_, 52.

[662] Lucan, _Phar._ Usener's ed., 32; Orosius, v. 16. 6; Dio Cass.

lxii. 6.

[663] Pliny, xvi. 44. The Scholiast on Lucan says that the Druids

divined with acorns (Usener, 33).

[664] Max. Tyr. _Diss._ viii. 8; Stokes, _RC_ i. 259.

[665] Le Braz, ii. 18.

[666] Mr. Chadwick (_Jour. Anth. Inst._ xxx. 26) connects this high god

with thunder, and regards the Celtic Zeus (Taranis, in his opinion) as a

thunder-god. The oak was associated with this god because his

worshippers dwelt under oaks.

[667] Helbig, _Die Italiker in der Poebene_, 16 f.

[668] Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_; Frazer, _Golden Bough_{2} iii. 198.

[669] Frazer, _loc. cit._

[670] Evans, _Arch. Rev._ i. 327 f.

[671] Joyce, _SH_ i. 236.

[672] O'Curry, _MC_ i. 213.

[673] _LL_ 199_b_; _Rennes Dindsenchas_, _RC_ xv. 420.

[674] _RC_ xv. 455, xvi. 279; Hennessey, _Chron. Scot._ 76.

[675] Keating, 556; Joyce, _PN_ i. 499.

[676] Wood-Martin, ii. 159.

[677] D'Arbois, _Les Celtes_, 51; Jullian, 41.

[678] Cook, _Folk-Lore_, xvii. 60.

[679] See Sébillot, i. 293; Le Braz, i. 259; _Folk-Lore Journal_, v.

218; _Folk-Lore Record_, 1882.

[680] Val. Probus, _Comm. in Georgica_, ii. 84.

[681] Miss Hull, 53; O'Ourry, _MS. Mat._ 465. Writing tablets, made from

each of the trees when they were cut down, sprang together and could not

be separated.

[682] _Stat. Account_, iii. 27; Moore, 151; Sébillot, i. 262, 270.

[683] Dom Martin, i. 124; _Vita S. Eligii_, ii. 16.

[684] _Acta Sanct._ (Bolland.), July 31; Sulp. Sever. _Vita S. Mart._

457.

[685] Grimm, _Teut. Myth._ 76; Maury, 13, 299. The story of beautiful

women found in trees may be connected with the custom of placing images

in trees, or with the belief that a goddess might be seen emerging from

the tree in which she dwelt.

[686] De la Tour, _Atlas des Monnaies Gaul_, 260, 286; Reinach, _Catal.

Sommaire_, 29.

[687] Pliny, _HN_ xvi. 44.

[688] See p. 162, _supra_.

[689] See Cameron, _Gaelic Names of Plants_, 45. In Gregoire de Rostren,

_Dict. françois-celt._ 1732, mistletoe is translated by _dour-dero_,

"oak-water," and is said to be good for several evils.

[690] Pliny, xxiv. 11.

[691] Ibid.

[692] Ibid. xxv. 9.

[693] See Carmichael, _Carmina Gadelica_; De Nore, _Coutumes ... des

Provinces de France_, 150 f.; Sauvé, _RC_ vi. 67, _CM_ ix. 331.

[694] O'Grady, ii. 126.

[695] Miss Hull, 172; see p. 77, _supra_.

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