(M183) Thus the rites of fire and water which are observed in Morocco at

Midsummer and New Year appear to be identical in character and intention,

and it seems certain that the duplication of the rites is due to a

conflict between two calendars, namely the old Julian calendar of the

Romans, which was based on the sun, and the newer Mohammedan calendar of

the Arabs, which is based on the moon. For not only was the Julian

calendar in use throughout the whole of Northern Africa under the Roman

Empire; to this day it is everywhere employed among Mohammedans for the

regulation of agriculture and all the affairs of daily life; its practical

convenience has made it indispensable, and the lunar calendar of orthodox

Mohammedanism is scarcely used except for purposes of chronology. Even the

old Latin names of the months are known and employed, in slightly

disguised forms, throughout the whole Moslem world; and little calendars

of the Julian year circulate in manuscript among Mohammedans, permitting

them to combine the practical advantages of pagan science with a nominal

adherence to orthodox absurdity.(560) Thus the heathen origin of the

midsummer festival is too palpable to escape the attention of good

Mohammedans, who accordingly frown upon the midsummer bonfires as pagan

superstitions, precisely as similar observances in Europe have often been

denounced by orthodox Christianity. Indeed, many religious people in

Morocco entirely disapprove of the whole of the midsummer ceremonies,

maintaining that they are all bad; and a conscientious schoolmaster will

even refuse his pupils a holiday at midsummer, though the boys sometimes

offer him a bribe if he will sacrifice his scruples to his avarice.(561)

As the midsummer customs appear to flourish among all the Berbers of

Morocco but to be unknown among the pure Arabs who have not been affected

by Berber influence, it seems reasonable to infer with Dr. Westermarck

that the midsummer festival has belonged from time immemorial to the

Berber race, and that so far as it is now observed by the Arabs of

Morocco, it has been learned by them from the Berbers, the old indigenous

inhabitants of the country. Dr. Westermarck may also be right in holding

that, in spite of the close similarity which obtains between the midsummer

festival of Europe and the midsummer festival of North Africa, the latter

is not a copy of the former, but that both have been handed down

independently from a time beyond the purview of history, when such

ceremonies were common to the Mediterranean race.(562)

§ 5. The Autumn Fires.

(M184) In the months which elapse between midsummer and the setting in of

winter the European festivals of fire appear to be few and unimportant. On

the evening of the first day of August, which is the Festival of the

Cross, bonfires are commonly lit in Macedonia and boys jump over them,

shouting, “Dig up! bury!” but whom or what they wish to dig up or bury

they do not know.(563) The Russians hold the feast of two martyrs, Florus

and Laurus, on the eighteenth day of August, Old Style. “On this day the

Russians lead their horses round the church of their village, beside which

on the foregoing evening they dig a hole with two mouths. Each horse has a

bridle made of the bark of the linden-tree. The horses go through this

hole one after the other, opposite to one of the mouths of which the

priest stands with a sprinkler in his hand, with which he sprinkles them.

As soon as the horses have passed by their bridles are taken off, and they

are made to go between two fires that they kindle, called by the Russians

_Givoy Agon_, that is to say, living fires, of which I shall give an

account. I shall before remark, that the Russian peasantry throw the

bridles of their horses into one of these fires to be consumed. This is

the manner of their lighting these _givoy agon_, or living fires. Some men

hold the ends of a stick made of the plane-tree, very dry, and about a

fathom long. This stick they hold firmly over one of birch, perfectly dry,

and rub with violence and quickly against the former; the birch, which is

somewhat softer than the plane, in a short time inflames, and serves them

to light both the fires I have described.”(564)

(M185) The Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin on the eighth day of

September is celebrated at Naples and Capri with fireworks, bonfires, and

assassinations. On this subject my friend Professor A. E. Housman, who

witnessed the celebration in different years at both places, has kindly

furnished me with the following particulars: “In 1906 I was in the island

of Capri on September the eighth, the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin.

The anniversary was duly solemnised by fire-works at nine or ten in the

evening, which I suppose were municipal; but just after sundown the boys

outside the villages were making small fires of brushwood on waste bits of

ground by the wayside. Very pretty it looked, with the flames blowing

about in the twilight; but what took my attention was the listlessness of

the boys and their lack of interest in the proceeding. A single lad, the

youngest, would be raking the fire together and keeping it alight, but the

rest stood lounging about and looking in every other direction, with the

air of discharging mechanically a traditional office from which all zest

had evaporated.” “The pious orgy at Naples on September the eighth went

through the following phases when I witnessed it in 1897. It began at

eight in the evening with an illumination of the façade of Santa Maria

Piedigrotta and with the whole population walking about blowing penny

trumpets. After four hours of this I went to bed at midnight, and was

lulled to sleep by barrel-organs, which supersede the trumpets about that

hour. At four in the morning I was waked by detonations as if the British

fleet were bombarding the city, caused, I was afterwards told, by dynamite

rockets. The only step possible beyond this is assassination, which

accordingly takes place about peep of day: I forget now the number of the

slain, but I think the average is eight or ten, and I know that in honour

of my presence they murdered a few more than usual.”

(M186) It is no doubt possible that these illuminations and fire-works,

like the assassinations, are merely the natural and spontaneous

expressions of that overflowing joy with which the thought of the birth of

the Virgin must fill every pious heart; but when we remember how often the

Church has skilfully decanted the new wine of Christianity into the old

bottles of heathendom, we may be allowed to conjecture that the

ecclesiastical authorities adroitly timed the Nativity of the Virgin so as

to coincide with an old pagan festival of that day, in which fire, noise,

and uproar, if not broken heads and bloodshed, were conspicuous features.

The penny trumpets blown on this occasion recall the like melodious

instruments which figure so largely in the celebration of Befana (the Eve

of Epiphany) at Rome.(565)

§ 6. The Hallowe’en Fires.

(M187) From the foregoing survey we may infer that among the heathen

forefathers of the European peoples the most popular and widespread

fire-festival of the year was the great celebration of Midsummer Eve or

Midsummer Day. The coincidence of the festival with the summer solstice

can hardly be accidental. Rather we must suppose that our pagan ancestors

purposely timed the ceremony of fire on earth to coincide with the arrival

of the sun at the highest point of his course in the sky. If that was so,

it follows that the old founders of the midsummer rites had observed the

solstices or turning-points of the sun’s apparent path in the sky, and

that they accordingly regulated their festal calendar to some extent by

astronomical considerations.

(M188) But while this may be regarded as fairly certain for what we may

call the aborigines throughout a large part of the continent, it appears

not to have been true of the Celtic peoples who inhabited the Land’s End

of Europe, the islands and promontories that stretch out into the Atlantic

ocean on the North-West. The principal fire-festivals of the Celts, which

have survived, though in a restricted area and with diminished pomp, to

modern times and even to our own day, were seemingly timed without any

reference to the position of the sun in the heaven. They were two in

number, and fell at an interval of six months, one being celebrated on the

eve of May Day and the other on Allhallow Even or Hallowe’en, as it is now

commonly called, that is, on the thirty-first of October, the day

preceding All Saints’ or Allhallows’ Day. These dates coincide with none

of the four great hinges on which the solar year revolves, to wit, the

solstices and the equinoxes. Nor do they agree with the principal seasons

of the agricultural year, the sowing in spring and the reaping in autumn.

For when May Day comes, the seed has long been committed to the earth; and

when November opens, the harvest has long been reaped and garnered, the

fields lie bare, the fruit-trees are stripped, and even the yellow leaves

are fast fluttering to the ground. Yet the first of May and the first of

November mark turning-points of the year in Europe; the one ushers in the

genial heat and the rich vegetation of summer, the other heralds, if it

does not share, the cold and barrenness of winter. Now these particular

points of the year, as has been well pointed out by a learned and

ingenious writer,(566) while they are of comparatively little moment to

the European husbandman, do deeply concern the European herdsman; for it

is on the approach of summer that he drives his cattle out into the open

to crop the fresh grass, and it is on the approach of winter that he leads

them back to the safety and shelter of the stall. Accordingly it seems not

improbable that the Celtic bisection of the year into two halves at the

beginning of May and the beginning of November dates from a time when the

Celts were mainly a pastoral people, dependent for their subsistence on

their herds, and when accordingly the great epochs of the year for them

were the days on which the cattle went forth from the homestead in early

summer and returned to it again in early winter.(567) Even in Central

Europe, remote from the region now occupied by the Celts, a similar

bisection of the year may be clearly traced in the great popularity, on

the one hand, of May Day and its Eve (Walpurgis Night), and, on the other

hand, of the Feast of All Souls at the beginning of November, which under

a thin Christian cloak conceals an ancient pagan festival of the

dead.(568) Hence we may conjecture that everywhere throughout Europe the

celestial division of the year according to the solstices was preceded by

what we may call a terrestrial division of the year according to the

beginning of summer and the beginning of winter.

(M189) Be that as it may, the two great Celtic festivals of May Day and

the first of November or, to be more accurate, the Eves of these two days,

closely resemble each other in the manner of their celebration and in the

superstitions associated with them, and alike, by the antique character

impressed upon both, betray a remote and purely pagan origin. The festival

of May Day or Beltane, as the Celts called it, which ushered in summer,

has already been described;(569) it remains to give some account of the

corresponding festival of Hallowe’en, which announced the arrival of

winter.

(M190) Of the two feasts Hallowe’en was perhaps of old the more important,

since the Celts would seem to have dated the beginning of the year from it

rather than from Beltane. In the Isle of Man, one of the fortresses in

which the Celtic language and lore longest held out against the siege of

the Saxon invaders, the first of November, Old Style, has been regarded as

New Year’s day down to recent times. Thus Manx mummers used to go round on

Hallowe’en (Old Style), singing, in the Manx language, a sort of Hogmanay

song which began “To-night is New Year’s Night, _Hogunnaa_!”(570) One of

Sir John Rhys’s Manx informants, an old man of sixty-seven, “had been a

farm servant from the age of sixteen till he was twenty-six to the same

man, near Regaby, in the parish of Andreas, and he remembers his master

and a near neighbour of his discussing the term New Year’s Day as applied

to the first of November, and explaining to the younger men that it had

always been so in old times. In fact, it seemed to him natural enough, as

all tenure of land ends at that time, and as all servant men begin their

service then.”(571) In ancient Ireland, as we saw, a new fire used to be

kindled every year on Hallowe’en or the Eve of Samhain, and from this

sacred flame all the fires in Ireland were rekindled.(572) Such a custom

points strongly to Samhain or All Saints’ Day (the first of November) as

New Year’s Day; since the annual kindling of a new fire takes place most

naturally at the beginning of the year, in order that the blessed

influence of the fresh fire may last throughout the whole period of twelve

months. Another confirmation of the view that the Celts dated their year

from the first of November is furnished by the manifold modes of

divination which, as we shall see presently, were commonly resorted to by

Celtic peoples on Hallowe’en for the purpose of ascertaining their

destiny, especially their fortune in the coming year; for when could these

devices for prying into the future be more reasonably put in practice than

at the beginning of the year? As a season of omens and auguries Hallowe’en

seems to have far surpassed Beltane in the imagination of the Celts; from

which we may with some probability infer that they reckoned their year

from Hallowe’en rather than Beltane. Another circumstance of great moment

which points to the same conclusion is the association of the dead with

Hallowe’en. Not only among the Celts but throughout Europe, Hallowe’en,

the night which marks the transition from autumn to winter, seems to have

been of old the time of year when the souls of the departed were supposed

to revisit their old homes in order to warm themselves by the fire and to

comfort themselves with the good cheer provided for them in the kitchen or

the parlour by their affectionate kinsfolk.(573) It was, perhaps, a

natural thought that the approach of winter should drive the poor

shivering hungry ghosts from the bare fields and the leafless woodlands to

the shelter of the cottage with its familiar fireside.(574) Did not the

lowing kine then troop back from the summer pastures in the forests and on

the hills to be fed and cared for in the stalls, while the bleak winds

whistled among the swaying boughs and the snow drifts deepened in the

hollows? and could the good-man and the good-wife deny to the spirits of

their dead the welcome which they gave to the cows?

(M191) But it is not only the souls of the departed who are supposed to be

hovering unseen on the day “when autumn to winter resigns the pale year.”

Witches then speed on their errands of mischief, some sweeping through the

air on besoms, others galloping along the roads on tabby-cats, which for

that evening are turned into coal-black steeds.(575) The fairies, too, are

all let loose, and hobgoblins of every sort roam freely about. In South

Uist and Eriskay there is a saying:—

“_Hallowe’en will come, will come,_

_Witchcraft [or divination] will be set agoing,_

_Fairies will be at full speed,_

_Running in every pass._

_Avoid the road, children, children._”(576)

In Cardiganshire on November Eve a bogie sits on every stile.(577) On that

night in Ireland all the fairy hills are thrown wide open and the fairies

swarm forth; any man who is bold enough may then peep into the open green

hills and see the treasures hidden in them. Worse than that, the cave of

Cruachan in Connaught, known as “the Hell-gate of Ireland,” is unbarred on

Samhain Eve or Hallowe’en, and a host of horrible fiends and goblins used

to rush forth, particularly a flock of copper-red birds, which blighted

crops and killed animals by their poisonous breath.(578) The Scotch

Highlanders have a special name _Samhanach_ (derived from _Samhain_,

“All-hallows”) for the dreadful bogies that go about that night stealing

babies and committing other atrocities.(579) And though the fairies are a

kindlier folk, it is dangerous to see even them at their revels on

Hallowe’en. A melancholy case of this sort is reported from the Ferintosh

district of the Highlands, though others say that it happened at the Slope

of Big Stones in Harris. Two young men were coming home after nightfall on

Hallowe’en, each with a jar of whisky on his back, when they saw, as they

thought, a house all lit up by the roadside, from which proceeded the

sounds of music and dancing. In reality it was not a house at all but a

fairy knoll, and it was the fairies who were jigging it about there so

merrily. But one of the young men was deceived and stepping into the house

joined in the dance, without even stopping to put down the jar of whisky.

His companion was wiser; he had a shrewd suspicion that the place was not

what it seemed, and on entering he took the precaution of sticking a

needle in the door. That disarmed the power of the fairies, and he got

away safely. Well, that day twelve months he came back to the spot and

what should he see but his poor friend still dancing away with the jar of

whisky on his back? A weary man was he, as you may well believe, but he

begged to be allowed to finish the reel which he was in the act of

executing, and when they took him out into the open air, there was nothing

of him left but skin and bones.(580) Again, the wicked fairies are apt to

carry off men’s wives with them to fairyland; but the lost spouses can be

recovered within a year and a day when the procession of the fairies is

defiling past on Hallowe’en, always provided that the mortals did not

partake of elfin food while they were in elfinland.(581)

(M192) Sometimes valuable information may be obtained from the fairies on

Hallowe’en. There was a young man named Guleesh in the County of Mayo.

Near his house was a _rath_ or old fort with a fine grass bank running

round it. One Hallowe’en, when the darkness was falling, Guleesh went to

the rath and stood on a gray old flag. The night was calm and still; there

was not a breath of wind stirring, nor a sound to be heard except the hum

of the insects flitting past, or the whistle of the plovers, or the hoarse

scream of the wild geese as they winged their way far overhead. Above the

white fog the moon rose like a knob of fire in the east, and a thousand

thousand stars were twinkling in the sky. There was a little frost in the

air, the grass was white and crisp and crackled under foot. Guleesh

expected to see the fairies, but they did not come. Hour after hour wore

away, and he was just bethinking him of going home to bed, when his ear

caught a sound far off coming towards him, and he knew what it was in a

moment. The sound grew louder and louder; at first it was like the beating

of waves on a stony shore, then it was like the roar of a waterfall, at

last it was like a mighty rushing wind in the tops of the trees, then the

storm burst upon the rath, and sure enough the fairies were in it. The

rout went by so suddenly that Guleesh lost his breath; but he came to

himself and listened. The fairies were now gathered within the grassy bank

of the rath, and a fine uproar they made. But Guleesh listened with all

his ears, and he heard one fairy saying to another that a magic herb grew

by Guleesh’s own door, and that Guleesh had nothing to do but pluck it and

boil it and give it to his sweetheart, the daughter of the King of France,

and she would be well, for just then she was lying very ill. Guleesh took

the hint, and everything went as the fairy had said. And he married the

daughter of the King of France; and they had never a cark nor a care, a

sickness nor a sorrow, a mishap nor a misfortune to the day of their

death.(582)

(M193) In all Celtic countries Hallowe’en seems to have been the great

season of the year for prying into the future; all kinds of divination

were put in practice that night. We read that Dathi, a king of Ireland in

the fifth century, happening to be at the Druids’ Hill (_Cnoc-nan-druad_)

in the county of Sligo one Hallowe’en, ordered his druid to forecast for

him the future from that day till the next Hallowe’en should come round.

The druid passed the night on the top of the hill, and next morning made a

prediction to the king which came true.(583) In Wales Hallowe’en was the

weirdest of all the _Teir Nos Ysbrydion_, or Three Spirit Nights, when the

wind, “blowing over the feet of the corpses,” bore sighs to the houses of

those who were to die within the year. People thought that if on that

night they went out to a cross-road and listened to the wind, they would

learn all the most important things that would befall them during the next

twelve months.(584) In Wales, too, not so long ago women used to

congregate in the parish churches on the night of Hallowe’en and read

their fate from the flame of the candle which each of them held in her

hand; also they heard the names or saw the coffins of the parishioners who

would die within the year, and many were the sad scenes to which these

gloomy visions gave rise.(585) And in the Highlands of Scotland anybody

who pleased could hear proclaimed aloud the names of parishioners doomed

to perish within the next twelve months, if he would only take a

three-legged stool and go and sit on it at three cross-roads, while the

church clock was striking twelve at midnight on Hallowe’en. It was even in

his power to save the destined victims from their doom by taking with him

articles of wearing apparel and throwing them away, one by one, as each

name was called out by the mysterious voice.(586)

(M194) But while a glamour of mystery and awe has always clung to

Hallowe’en in the minds of the Celtic peasantry, the popular celebration

of the festival has been, at least in modern times, by no means of a

prevailingly gloomy cast; on the contrary it has been attended by

picturesque features and merry pastimes, which rendered it the gayest

night of all the year. Amongst the things which in the Highlands of

Scotland contributed to invest the festival with a romantic beauty were

the bonfires which used to blaze at frequent intervals on the heights. “On

the last day of autumn children gathered ferns, tar-barrels, the long thin

stalks called _gàinisg_, and everything suitable for a bonfire. These were

placed in a heap on some eminence near the house, and in the evening set

fire to. The fires were called _Samhnagan_. There was one for each house,

and it was an object of ambition who should have the biggest. Whole

districts were brilliant with bonfires, and their glare across a Highland

loch, and from many eminences, formed an exceedingly picturesque

scene.”(587) Like the Beltane fires on the first of May, the Hallowe’en

bonfires seem to have been kindled most commonly in the Perthshire

Highlands. Travelling in the parish of Moulin, near Pitlochrie, in the

year 1772, the Englishman Thomas Pennant writes that “Hallow Eve is also

kept sacred: as soon as it is dark, a person sets fire to a bush of broom

fastened round a pole, and, attended with a crowd, runs about the village.

He then flings it down, heaps great quantity of combustible matters on it,

and makes a great bonfire. A whole tract is thus illuminated at the same

time, and makes a fine appearance.”(588) The custom has been described

more fully by a Scotchman of the eighteenth century, John Ramsay of

Ochtertyre. On the evening of Hallowe’en “the young people of every hamlet

assembled upon some eminence near the houses. There they made a bonfire of

ferns or other fuel, cut the same day, which from the feast was called

_Samh-nag_ or _Savnag_, a fire of rest and pleasure. Around it was placed

a circle of stones, one for each person of the families to whom they

belonged. And when it grew dark the bonfire was kindled, at which a loud

shout was set up. Then each person taking a torch of ferns or sticks in

his hand, ran round the fire exulting; and sometimes times they went into

the adjacent fields, where, if there was another company, they visited the

bonfire, taunting the others if inferior in any respect to themselves.

After the fire was burned out they returned home, where a feast was

prepared, and the remainder of the evening was spent in mirth and

diversions of various kinds. Next morning they repaired betimes to the

bonfire, where the situation of the stones was examined with much

attention. If any of them were misplaced, or if the print of a foot could

be discerned near any particular stone, it was imagined that the person

for whom it was set would not live out the year. Of late years this is

less attended to, but about the beginning of the present century it was

regarded as a sure prediction. The Hallowe’en fire is still kept up in

some parts of the Low country; but on the western coast and in the Isles

it is never kindled, though the night is spent in merriment and

entertainments.”(589) In the Perthshire parish of Callander, which

includes the now famous pass of the Trossachs opening out on the winding

and wooded shores of the lovely Loch Katrine, the Hallowe’en bonfires were

still kindled down to near the end of the eighteenth century. When the

fire had died down, the ashes were carefully collected in the form of a

circle, and a stone was put in, near the circumference, for every person

of the several families interested in the bonfire. Next morning, if any of

these stones was found to be displaced or injured, the people made sure

that the person represented by it was _fey_ or devoted, and that he could

not live twelve months from that day.(590) In the parish of Logierait,

which covers the beautiful valley of the Tummel, one of the fairest

regions of all Scotland, the Hallowe’en fire was somewhat different.

Faggots of heath, broom, and the dressings of flax were kindled and

carried on poles by men, who ran with them round the villages, attended by

a crowd. As soon as one faggot was burnt out, a fresh one was lighted and

fastened to the pole. Numbers of these blazing faggots were often carried

about together, and when the night happened to be dark, they formed a

splendid illumination.(591)

(M195) Nor did the Hallowe’en fires die out in Perthshire with the end of

the eighteenth century. Journeying from Dunkeld to Aberfeldy on Hallowe’en

in the first half of the nineteenth century, Sheriff Barclay counted

thirty fires blazing on the hill tops, and saw the figures of the people

dancing like phantoms round the flames.(592) Again, “in 1860, I was

residing near the head of Loch Tay during the season of the Hallowe’en

feast. For several days before Hallowe’en, boys and youths collected wood

and conveyed it to the most prominent places on the hill sides in their

neighbourhood. Some of the heaps were as large as a corn-stack or

hay-rick. After dark on Hallowe’en, these heaps were kindled, and for

several hours both sides of Loch Tay were illuminated as far as the eye

could see. I was told by old men that at the beginning of this century men

as well as boys took part in getting up the bonfires, and that, when the

fire was ablaze, all joined hands and danced round the fire, and made a

great noise; but that, as these gatherings generally ended in drunkenness

and rough and dangerous fun, the ministers set their faces against the

observance, and were seconded in their efforts by the more intelligent and

well-behaved in the community; and so the practice was discontinued by

adults and relegated to school boys.”(593) At Balquhidder down to the

latter part of the nineteenth century each household kindled its bonfire

at Hallowe’en, but the custom was chiefly observed by children. The fires

were lighted on any high knoll near the house; there was no dancing round

them.(594)

(M196) Hallowe’en fires were also lighted in some districts of the

north-east of Scotland, such as Buchan. Villagers and farmers alike must

have their fire. In the villages the boys went from house to house and

begged a peat from each householder, usually with the words, “Ge’s a peat

t’ burn the witches.” In some villages the lads collected the peats in a

cart, some of them drawing it along and the others receiving the peats and

loading them on the cart. Along with the peats they accumulated straw,

furze, potato haulm, everything that would burn quickly, and when they had

got enough they piled it all in a heap and set it on fire. Then each of

the youths, one after another, laid himself down on the ground as near to

the fire as he could without being scorched, and thus lying allowed the

smoke to roll over him. The others ran through the smoke and jumped over

their prostrate comrade. When the heap was burned down, they scattered the

ashes. Each one took a share in this part of the ceremony, giving a kick

first with the right foot and then with the left; and each vied with the

other who should scatter the most. After that some of them still continued

to run through the scattered ashes and to pelt each other with the

half-burned peats. At each farm a spot as high as possible, not too near

the steading, was chosen for the fire, and the proceedings were much the

same as at the village bonfire. The lads of one farm, when their own fire

was burned down and the ashes scattered, sometimes went to a neighbouring

fire and helped to kick the ashes about.(595) Referring to this part of

Scotland, a writer at the end of the eighteenth century observes that “the

Hallow-even fire, another relict of druidism, was kindled in Buchan.

Various magic ceremonies were then celebrated to counteract the influence

of witches and demons, and to prognosticate to the young their success or

disappointment in the matrimonial lottery. These being devoutly finished,

the hallow fire was kindled, and guarded by the male part of the family.

Societies were formed, either by pique or humour, to scatter certain

fires, and the attack and defence were often conducted with art and with

fury.”(596) Down to about the middle of the nineteenth century “the

Braemar Highlanders made the circuit of their fields with lighted torches

at Hallowe’en to ensure their fertility in the coming year. At that date

the custom was as follows: Every member of the family (in those days

households were larger than they are now) was provided with a bundle of

fir ‘can’les’ with which to go the round. The father and mother stood at

the hearth and lit the splints in the peat fire, which they passed to the

children and servants, who trooped out one after the other, and proceeded

to tread the bounds of their little property, going slowly round at equal

distances apart, and invariably with the sun. To go ‘withershins’ seems to

have been reserved for cursing and excommunication. When the fields had

thus been circumambulated the remaining spills were thrown together in a

heap and allowed to burn out.”(597)

(M197) In the Highlands of Scotland, as the evening of Hallowe’en wore on,

young people gathered in one of the houses and resorted to an almost

endless variety of games, or rather forms of divination, for the purpose

of ascertaining the future fate of each member of the company. Were they

to marry or remain single, was the marriage to take place that year or

never, who was to be married first, what sort of husband or wife she or he

was to get, the name, the trade, the colour of the hair, the amount of

property of the future spouse—these were questions that were eagerly

canvassed and the answers to them furnished never-failing

entertainment.(598) Nor were these modes of divination at Hallowe’en

confined to the Highlands, where the bonfires were kindled; they were

practised with equal faith and in practically the same forms in the

Lowlands, as we learn, for example, from Burns’s poem _Hallowe’en_, which

describes the auguries drawn from a variety of omens by the Ayrshire

peasantry. These Lowlanders of Saxon descent may well have inherited the

rites from the Celts who preceded them in the possession of the south

country. A common practice at Hallowe’en was to go out stealthily to a

neighbour’s kailyard and there, with shut eyes, to pull up the first kail

stock that came to hand. It was necessary that the plants should be stolen

without the knowledge or consent of their owner; otherwise they were quite

useless for the purpose of divination. Strictly speaking, too, the

neighbour upon whose garden the raid was made should be unmarried, whether

a bachelor or a spinster. The stolen kail was taken home and examined, and

according to its height, shape, and features would be the height, shape,

and features of the future husband or wife. The taste of the _custock_,

that is, the heart of the stem, was an infallible indication of his or her

temper; and a clod of earth adhering to the root signified, in proportion

to its size, the amount of property which he or she would bring to the

common stock. Then the kail-stock or _runt_, as it was called in Ayrshire,

was placed over the lintel of the door; and the baptismal name of the

young man or woman who first entered the door after the kail was in

position would be the baptismal name of the husband or wife.(599) Again,

young women sowed hemp seed over nine ridges of ploughed land, saying, “I

sow hemp seed, and he who is to be my husband, let him come and harrow

it.” On looking back over her left shoulder the girl would see the figure

of her future mate behind her in the darkness. In the north-east of

Scotland lint seed was used instead of hemp seed and answered the purpose

quite as well.(600) Again, a mode of ascertaining your future husband or

wife was this. Take a clue of blue yarn and go to a lime-kiln. Throw the

clue into the kiln, but keep one end of the thread in your hand and wind

it on to another clue. As you come near the end somebody or something will

hold the other end tight in the kiln. Then you call out, “Who holds?”

giving the thread at the same time a gentle pull. Some one or something

will thereupon pull the other end of the thread, and a voice will mention

the name of your future husband or wife.(601) Another way is this. Go to

the barn alone and secretly. Be sure to open both doors and if possible

take them off their hinges; for if the being who is about to appear should

catch you in the barn and clap the doors to on you, he or she might do you

a mischief. Having done this, take the sieve or winnowing-basket, which in

Lowland Scotch is called a _wecht_ or _waicht_, and go through the action

of winnowing corn. Repeat it thrice, and at the third time the apparition

of your future husband or wife will pass through the barn, entering at the

windy door and passing out at the other.(602) Or this. Go to a southward

running stream, where the lands of three lairds meet, or to a ford where

the dead and living have crossed. Dip the left sleeve of your shirt in the

water. Then go home, take off the shirt, hang it up before a fire to dry,

and go to bed, taking care that the bed stands so that you can see your

shirt hanging before the fire. Keep awake, and at midnight you will see

the form of your future spouse come into the room and turn the other side

of the sleeve to the fire to dry it.(603) A Highland form of divination at

Hallowe’en is to take a shoe by the tip and throw it over the house, then

observe the direction in which the toe points as it lies on the ground on

the other side; for in that direction you are destined to go before long.

If the shoe should fall sole uppermost, it is very unlucky for you.(604)

(M198) These ways of prying into the future are practised outside of the

house; others are observed in the kitchen or the parlour before the

cheerful blaze of the fire. Thus the white of eggs, dropped in a glass of

pure water, indicates by certain marks how many children a person will

have. The impatience and clamour of the children, eager to ascertain the

exact number of their future progeny, often induced the housewife to

perform this ceremony for them by daylight; and the kindly mother,

standing with her face to the window, dropping the white of an egg into a

crystal glass of clean water, and surrounded by a group of children

intently watching her proceedings, made up a pretty picture.(605) When the

fun of the evening had fairly commenced, the names of eligible or likely

matches were written on the chimney-piece, and the young man who wished to

try his fortune was led up blindfolded to the list. Whatever name he put

his finger on would prove that of his future wife.(606) Again, two nuts,

representing a lad and a lass whose names were announced to the company,

were put side by side in the fire. If they burned quietly together, the

pair would be man and wife, and from the length of time they burned and

the brightness of the flame the length and happiness of the married life

of the two were augured. But if instead of burning together one of the

nuts leaped away from the other, then there would be no marriage, and the

blame would rest with the person whose nut had thus started away by

itself.(607) Again, a dish of milk and meal (in Gaelic _fuarag_, in

Lowland Scotch _crowdie_) or of beat potatoes was made and a ring was

hidden in it. Spoons were served out to the company, who supped the

contents of the dish hastily with them, and the one who got the ring would

be the first to be married.(608) Again, apples and a silver sixpence were

put in a tub of water; the apples naturally floated on the top and the

sixpence sank to the bottom. Whoever could lift an apple or the sixpence

from the water with his mouth, without using his teeth, was counted very

lucky and got the prize to himself.(609) Again, three plates or basins

were placed on the hearth. One was filled with clean water, another with

dirty water, and the third was empty. The enquirer was blindfolded, knelt

in front of the hearth, and groped about till he put his finger in one of

them. If he lighted on the plate with the clean water, he would wed a

maid; if on the plate with the dirty water, he would marry a widow; and if

on the empty plate, he would remain a bachelor. For a girl the answer of

the oracle was analogous; she would marry a bachelor, a widower, or nobody

according to the plate into which she chanced to dip her finger. But to

make sure, the operation had to be repeated thrice, the position of the

plates being changed each time. If the enquirer put his or her finger into

the same plate thrice or even twice, it was quite conclusive.(610)

(M199) These forms of divination in the house were practised by the

company in a body; but the following had to be performed by the person

alone. You took an apple and stood with it in your hand in front of a

looking-glass. Then you sliced the apple, stuck each slice on the point of

the knife, and held it over your left shoulder, while you looked into the

glass and combed your hair. The spectre of your future husband would then

appear in the mirror stretching forth his hand to take the slices of the

apple over your shoulder. Some say that the number of slices should be

nine, that you should eat the first eight yourself, and only throw the

ninth over your left shoulder for your husband; also that at each slice

you should say, “In the name of the Father and the Son.”(611) Again, take

an egg, prick it with a pin, and let the white drop into a wine-glass

nearly full of water. Take some of this in your mouth and go out for a

walk. The first name you hear called out aloud will be that of your future

husband or wife. An old woman told a lady that she had tried this mode of

divination in her youth, that the name of Archibald “came up as it were

from the very ground,” and that Archibald sure enough was the name of her

husband.(612) In South Uist and Eriskay, two of the outer Hebrides, a salt

cake called _Bonnach Salainn_ is eaten at Hallowe’en to induce dreams that

will reveal the future. It is baked of common meal with a great deal of

salt. After eating it you may not drink water nor utter a word, not even

to say your prayers. A salt herring, eaten bones and all in three bites,

is equally efficacious, always provided that you drink no water and hold

your tongue.(613)

(M200) In the northern part of Wales it used to be customary for every

family to make a great bonfire called _Coel Coeth_ on Hallowe’en. The fire

was kindled on the most conspicuous spot near the house; and when it had

nearly gone out everyone threw into the ashes a white stone, which he had

first marked. Then having said their prayers round the fire, they went to

bed. Next morning, as soon as they were up, they came to search out the

stones, and if any one of them was found to be missing, they had a notion

that the person who threw it would die before he saw another

Hallowe’en.(614) A writer on Wales at the beginning of the nineteenth

century says that “the autumnal fire is still kindled in North Wales,

being on the eve of the first day of November, and is attended by many

ceremonies; such as running through the fire and smoke, each casting a

stone into the fire, and all running off at the conclusion to escape from

the black short-tailed sow; then supping upon parsnips, nuts, and apples;

catching up an apple suspended by a string with the mouth alone, and the

same by an apple in a tub of water: each throwing a nut into the fire; and

those that burn bright, betoken prosperity to the owners through the

following year, but those that burn black and crackle, denote misfortune.

On the following morning the stones are searched for in the fire, and if

any be missing, they betide ill to those who threw them in.”(615)

According to Sir John Rhys, the habit of celebrating Hallowe’en by

lighting bonfires on the hills is perhaps not yet extinct in Wales, and

men still living can remember how the people who assisted at the bonfires

would wait till the last spark was out and then would suddenly take to

their heels, shouting at the top of their voices, “The cropped black sow

seize the hindmost!” The saying, as Sir John Rhys justly remarks, implies

that originally one of the company became a victim in dead earnest. Down

to the present time the saying is current in Carnarvonshire, where

allusions to the cutty black sow are still occasionally made to frighten

children.(616) We can now understand why in Lower Brittany every person

throws a pebble into the midsummer bonfire.(617) Doubtless there, as in

Wales and the Highlands of Scotland,(618) omens of life and death have at

one time or other been drawn from the position and state of the pebbles on

the morning of All Saints’ Day. The custom, thus found among three

separate branches of the Celtic stock, probably dates from a period before

their dispersion, or at least from a time when alien races had not yet

driven home the wedges of separation between them.

(M201) In Wales, as in Scotland, Hallowe’en was also the great season for

forecasting the future in respect of love and marriage, and some of the

forms of divination employed for this purpose resembled those which were

in use among the Scotch peasantry. Two girls, for example, would make a

little ladder of yarn, without breaking it from the ball, and having done

so they would throw it out of the window. Then one of the girls, holding

the ball in her hand, would wind the yarn back, repeating a rhyme in

Welsh. This she did thrice, and as she wound the yarn she would see her

future husband climbing up the little ladder. Again, three bowls or basins

were placed on a table. One of them contained clean water, one dirty

water, and one was empty. The girls of the household, and sometimes the

boys too, then eagerly tried their fortunes. They were blindfolded, led up

to the table, and dipped their hands into a bowl. If they happened to dip

into the clean water, they would marry maidens or bachelors; if into the

dirty water, they would be widowers or widows; if into the empty bowl,

they would live unmarried. Again, if a girl, walking backwards, would

place a knife among the leeks on Hallowe’en, she would see her future

husband come and pick up the knife and throw it into the middle of the

garden.(619)

(M202) In Ireland the Hallowe’en bonfires would seem to have died out, but

the Hallowe’en divination has survived. Writing towards the end of the

eighteenth century, General Vallancey tells us that on Hallowe’en or the

vigil of Saman, as he calls it, “the peasants in Ireland assemble with

sticks and clubs (the emblems of laceration) going from house to house,

collecting money, bread-cake, butter, cheese, eggs, etc., etc., for the

feast, repeating verses in honour of the solemnity, demanding preparations

for the festival, in the name of St. Columb Kill, desiring them to lay

aside the fatted calf, and to bring forth the black sheep. The good women

are employed in making the griddle cake and candles; these last are sent

from house to house in the vicinity, and are lighted up on the (Saman)

next day, before which they pray, or are supposed to pray, for the

departed souls of the donor. Every house abounds in the best viands they

can afford: apples and nuts are devoured in abundance: the nut-shells are

burnt, and from the ashes many strange things are foretold: cabbages are

torn up by the root: hemp seed is sown by the maidens, and they believe,

that if they look back, they will see the apparition of the man intended

for their future spouse: they hang a smock before the fire, on the close

of the feast, and sit up all night, concealed in a corner of the room,

convinced that his apparition will come down the chimney and turn the

smock: they throw a ball of yarn out of the window, and wind it on the

reel within, convinced, that if they repeat the _Pater Noster_ backwards,

and look at the ball of yarn without, they will then also see his _sith_

or apparition: they dip for apples in a tub of water, and endeavour to

bring one up in the mouth: they suspend a cord with a cross-stick, with

apples at one point, and candles lighted at the other, and endeavour to

catch the apple, while it is in a circular motion, in the mouth. These,

and many other superstitious ceremonies, the remains of Druidism, are

observed on this holiday, which will never be eradicated, while the name

of _Saman_ is permitted to remain.”(620)

(M203) In Queen’s County, Ireland, down to the latter part of the

nineteenth century children practised various of these rites of divination

on Hallowe’en. Girls went out into the garden blindfold and pulled up

cabbages: if the cabbage was well grown, the girl would have a handsome

husband, but if it had a crooked stalk, the future spouse would be a

stingy old man. Nuts, again, were placed in pairs on the bar of the fire,

and from their behaviour omens were drawn of the fate in love and marriage

of the couple whom they represented. Lead, also, was melted and allowed to

drop into a tub of cold water, and from the shapes which it assumed in the

water predictions were made to the children of their future destiny.

Again, apples were bobbed for in a tub of water and brought up with the

teeth; or a stick was hung from a hook with an apple at one end and a

candle at the other, and the stick being made to revolve you made a bite

at the apple and sometimes got a mouthful of candle instead.(621) In

County Leitrim, also, down to near the end of the nineteenth century

various forms of divination were practised at Hallowe’en. Girls

ascertained the character of their future husbands by the help of cabbages

just as in Queen’s County. Again, if a girl found a branch of a

briar-thorn which had bent over and grown into the ground so as to form a

loop, she would creep through the loop thrice late in the evening in the

devil’s name, then cut the briar and put it under her pillow, all without

speaking a word. Then she would lay her head on the pillow and dream of

the man she was to marry. Boys, also, would dream in like manner of love

and marriage at Hallowe’en, if only they would gather ten leaves of ivy

without speaking, throw away one, and put the other nine under their

pillow. Again, divination was practised by means of a cake called

_barm-breac_, in which a nut and a ring were baked. Whoever got the ring

would be married first; whoever got the nut would marry a widow or a

widower; but if the nut were an empty shell, he or she would remain unwed.

Again, a girl would take a clue of worsted, go to a lime kiln in the

gloaming, and throw the clew into the kiln in the devil’s name, while she

held fast the other end of the thread. Then she would rewind the thread

and ask, “Who holds my clue?” and the name of her future husband would

come up from the depth of the kiln. Another way was to take a rake, go to

a rick and walk round it nine times, saying, “I rake this rick in the

devil’s name.” At the ninth time the wraith of your destined partner for

life would come and take the rake out of your hand. Once more, before the

company separated for the night, they would rake the ashes smooth on the

hearth, and search them next morning for tracks, from which they judged

whether anybody should come to the house, or leave it, or die in it before

another year was out.(622) In County Roscommon, which borders on County

Leitrim, a cake is made in nearly every house on Hallowe’en, and a ring, a

coin, a sloe, and a chip of wood are put into it. Whoever gets the coin

will be rich; whoever gets the ring will be married first; whoever gets

the chip of wood, which stands for a coffin, will die first; and whoever

gets the sloe will live longest, because the fairies blight the sloes in

the hedges on Hallowe’en, so that the sloe in the cake will be the last of

the year. Again, on the same mystic evening girls take nine grains of oats

in their mouths, and going out without speaking walk about till they hear

a man’s name pronounced; it will be the name of their future husband. In

County Roscommon, too, on Hallowe’en there is the usual dipping in water

for apples or sixpences, and the usual bites at a revolving apple and

tallow candle.(623)

(M204) In the Isle of Man also, another Celtic country, Hallowe’en was

celebrated down to modern times by the kindling of fires, accompanied with

all the usual ceremonies designed to prevent the baneful influence of

fairies and witches. Bands of young men perambulated the island by night,

and at the door of every dwelling-house they struck up a Manx rhyme,

beginning

“_Noght oie howney hop-dy-naw,_”

that is to say, “This is Hollantide Eve.” For Hollantide is the Manx way

of expressing the old English _All hallowen tide_, that is, All Saints’

Day, the first of November. But as the people reckon this festival

according to the Old Style, Hollantide in the Isle of Man is our twelfth

of November. The native Manx name for the day is _Sauin_ or _Laa Houney_.

Potatoes, parsnips and fish, pounded up together and mixed with butter,

formed the proper evening meal (_mrastyr_) on Hallowe’en in the Isle of

Man.(624) Here, too, as in Scotland forms of divination are practised by

some people on this important evening. For example, the housewife fills a

thimble full of salt for each member of the family and each guest; the

contents of the thimblefuls are emptied out in as many neat little piles

on a plate, and left there over night. Next morning the piles are

examined, and if any of them has fallen down, he or she whom it represents

will die within the year. Again, the women carefully sweep out the ashes

from under the fireplace and flatten them down neatly on the open hearth.

If they find next morning a footprint turned towards the door, it

signifies a death in the family within the year; but if the footprint is

turned in the opposite direction, it bodes a marriage. Again, divination

by eavesdropping is practised in the Isle of Man in much the same way as

in Scotland. You go out with your mouth full of water and your hands full

of salt and listen at a neighbour’s door, and the first name you hear will

be the name of your husband. Again, Manx maids bandage their eyes and

grope about the room till they dip their hands in vessels full of clean or

dirty water, and so on; and from the thing they touch they draw

corresponding omens. But some people in the Isle of Man observe these

auguries, not on Hallowe’en or Hollantide Eve, as they call it, which was

the old Manx New Year’s Eve, but on the modern New Year’s Eve, that is, on

the thirty-first of December. The change no doubt marks a transition from

the ancient to the modern mode of dating the beginning of the year.(625)

(M205) In Lancashire, also, some traces of the old Celtic celebration of

Hallowe’en have been reported in modern times. It is said that “fires are

still lighted in Lancashire, on Hallowe’en, under the name of Beltains or

Teanlas; and even such cakes as the Jews are said to have made in honour

of the Queen of Heaven, are yet to be found at this season amongst the

inhabitants of the banks of the Ribble.... Both the fires and the cakes,

however, are now connected with superstitious notions respecting

Purgatory, etc.”(626) On Hallowe’en, too, the Lancashire maiden “strews

the ashes which are to take the form of one or more letters of her lover’s

name; she throws hemp-seed over her shoulder and timidly glances to see

who follows her.”(627) Again, witches in Lancashire used to gather on

Hallowe’en at the Malkin Tower, a ruined and desolate farm-house in the

forest of Pendle. They assembled for no good purpose; but you could keep

the infernal rout at bay by carrying a lighted candle about the fells from

eleven to twelve o’clock at night. The witches tried to blow out the

candle, and if they succeeded, so much the worse for you; but if the flame

burned steadily till the clocks had struck midnight, you were safe. Some

people performed the ceremony by deputy; and parties went about from house

to house in the evening collecting candles, one for each inmate, and

offering their services to _late_ or _leet_ the witches, as the phrase

ran. This custom was practised at Longridge Fell in the early part of the

nineteenth century.(628) In Northumberland on Hallowe’en omens of marriage

were drawn from nuts thrown into the fire; and the sports of ducking for

apples and biting at a revolving apple and lighted candle were also

practised on that evening.(629) The equivalent of the Hallowe’en bonfires

is reported also from France. We are told that in the department of

Deux-Sèvres, which forms part of the old province of Poitou, young people

used to assemble in the fields on All Saints’ Day (the first of November)

and kindle great fires of ferns, thorns, leaves, and stubble, at which

they roasted chestnuts. They also danced round the fires and indulged in

noisy pastimes.(630)

§ 7. The Midwinter Fires.

(M206) If the heathen of ancient Europe celebrated, as we have good reason

to believe, the season of Midsummer with a great festival of fire, of

which the traces have survived in many places down to our own time, it is

natural to suppose that they should have observed with similar rites the

corresponding season of Midwinter; for Midsummer and Midwinter, or, in

more technical language, the summer solstice and the winter solstice, are

the two great turning-points in the sun’s apparent course through the sky,

and from the standpoint of primitive man nothing might seem more

appropriate than to kindle fires on earth at the two moments when the fire

and heat of the great luminary in heaven begin to wane or to wax. In this

way the savage philosopher, to whose meditations on the nature of things

we owe many ancient customs and ceremonies, might easily imagine that he

helped the labouring sun to relight his dying lamp, or at all events to

blow up the flame into a brighter blaze. Certain it is that the winter

solstice, which the ancients erroneously assigned to the twenty-fifth of

December, was celebrated in antiquity as the Birthday of the Sun, and that

festal lights or fires were kindled on this joyful occasion. Our Christmas

festival is nothing but a continuation under a Christian name of this old

solar festivity; for the ecclesiastical authorities saw fit, about the end

of the third or the beginning of the fourth century, arbitrarily to

transfer the nativity of Christ from the sixth of January to the

twenty-fifth of December, for the purpose of diverting to their Lord the

worship which the heathen had hitherto paid on that day to the sun.(631)

(M207) In modern Christendom the ancient fire-festival of the winter

solstice appears to survive, or to have survived down to recent years, in

the old custom of the Yule log, clog, or block, as it was variously called

in England.(632) The custom was widespread in Europe, but seems to have

flourished especially in England, France, and among the South Slavs; at

least the fullest accounts of the custom come from these quarters. That

the Yule log was only the winter counterpart of the Midsummer bonfire,

kindled within doors instead of in the open air on account of the cold and

inclement weather of the season, was pointed out long ago by our English

antiquary John Brand;(633) and the view is supported by the many quaint

superstitions attaching to the Yule log, superstitions which have no

apparent connexion with Christianity but carry their heathen origin

plainly stamped upon them. But while the two solstitial celebrations were

both festivals of fire, the necessity or desirability of holding the

winter celebration within doors lent it the character of a private or

domestic festivity, which contrasts strongly with the publicity of the

summer celebration, at which the people gathered on some open space or

conspicuous height, kindled a huge bonfire in common, and danced and made

merry round it together.

(M208) Among the Germans the custom of the Yule log is known to have been

observed in the eleventh century; for in the year 1184 the parish priest

of Ahlen, in Münsterland, spoke of “bringing a tree to kindle the festal

fire at the Lord’s Nativity.”(634) Down to about the middle of the

nineteenth century the old rite was kept up in some parts of central

Germany, as we learn from an account of it given by a contemporary writer.

After mentioning the custom of feeding the cattle and shaking the

fruit-trees on Christmas night, to make them bear fruit, he goes on as

follows: “Other customs pointing back to the far-off times of heathendom

may still be met with among the old-fashioned peasants of the mountain

regions. Such is in the valleys of the Sieg and Lahn the practice of

laying a new log as a foundation of the hearth. A heavy block of oak-wood,

generally a stump grubbed up from the ground, is fitted either into the

floor of the hearth, or into a niche made for the purpose in the wall

under the hook on which the kettle hangs. When the fire on the hearth

glows, this block of wood glows too, but it is so placed that it is hardly

reduced to ashes within a year. When the new foundation is laid, the

remains of the old block are carefully taken out, ground to powder, and

strewed over the fields during the Twelve Nights. This, so people fancied,

promotes the fruitfulness of the year’s crops.”(635) In some parts of the

Eifel Mountains, to the west of Coblentz, a log of wood called the

_Christbrand_ used to be placed on the hearth on Christmas Eve; and the

charred remains of it on Twelfth Night were put in the corn-bin to keep

the mice from devouring the corn.(636) At Weidenhausen and Girkshausen, in

Westphalia, the practice was to withdraw the Yule log (_Christbrand_) from

the fire so soon as it was slightly charred; it was then kept carefully to

be replaced on the fire whenever a thunder-storm broke, because the people

believed that lightning would not strike a house in which the Yule log was

smouldering.(637) In some villages near Berleburg in Westphalia the old

custom was to tie up the Yule log in the last sheaf cut at harvest.(638)

On Christmas Eve the peasantry of the Oberland, in Meiningen, a province

of Central Germany, used to put a great block of wood called the

_Christklotz_ on the fire before they went to bed; it should burn all

night, and the charred remains were believed to guard the house for the

whole year against the risk of fire, burglary, and other misfortunes.(639)

The Yule log seems to be known only in the French-speaking parts of

Switzerland, where it goes by the usual French name of _Bûche de Noël_. In

the Jura mountains of the canton of Bern, while the log is burning on the

hearth the people sing a blessing over it as follows:—

“_May the log burn!_

_May all good come in!_

_May the women have children_

_And the sheep lambs!_

_White bread for every one_

_And the vat full of wine!_”

The embers of the Yule log were kept carefully, for they were believed to

be a protection against lightning.(640)

(M209) “The Christmas fires, which were formerly lit everywhere in the Low

Countries, have fallen into disuse. But in Flanders a great log of wood,

called the _kersavondblok_ and usually cut from the roots of a fir or a

beech, is still put on the fire; all the lights in the house are

extinguished, and the whole family gathers round the log to spend part of

the night in singing, in telling stories, especially about ghosts,

were-wolves, and so on, and also in drinking gin. At Grammont and in the

neighbourhood of that town, where the Yule log is called _Kersmismot_, it

is customary to set fire to the remainder of the gin at the moment when

the log is reduced to ashes. Elsewhere a piece of the log is kept and put

under the bed to protect the house against thunder and lightning. The

charcoal of the log which burned during Christmas Night, if pounded up and

mixed with water, is a cure for consumption. In the country of Limburg the

log burns several nights, and the pounded charcoal is kept as a preventive

(so they say), of toothache.”(641)

(M210) In several provinces of France, and particularly in Provence, the

custom of the Yule log or _tréfoir_, as it was called in many places, was

long observed. A French writer of the seventeenth century tells us that on

Christmas Eve the log was prepared, and when the whole family had

assembled in the kitchen or parlour of the house, they went and brought it

in, walking in procession and singing Provençal verses to the following

effect:—

“_Let the log rejoice,_

_To-morrow is the day of bread;_

_Let all good enter here;_

_Let the women bear children;_

_Let the she-goats bring forth kids;_

_Let the ewes drop lambs;_

_Let there be much wheat and flour,_

_And the vat full of wine._”

Then the log was blessed by the smallest and youngest child of the house,

who poured a glass of wine over it saying, _In nomine patris_, etc.; after

which the log was set on the fire. The charcoal of the burnt wood was kept

the whole year, and used as an ingredient in several remedies.(642)

(M211) Amongst the superstitions denounced by the same writer is “the

belief that a log called the _trefoir_ or Christmas brand, which you put

on the fire for the first time on Christmas Eve and continue to put on the

fire for a little while every day till Twelfth Night, can, if kept under

the bed, protect the house for a whole year from fire and thunder; that it

can prevent the inmates from having chilblains on their heels in winter;

that it can cure the cattle of many maladies; that if a piece of it be

steeped in the water which cows drink it helps them to calve; and lastly

that if the ashes of the log be strewn on the fields it can save the wheat

from mildew.”(643)

(M212) In Marseilles the Yule log used to be a great block of oak, which

went by the name of _calendeau_ or _calignau_; it was sprinkled with wine

and oil, and the head of the house kindled it himself.(644) “The Yule log

plays a great part at the festival of the winter solstice in Perigord. The

countryman thinks that it is best made of plum-tree, cherry, or oak, and

that the larger it is the better. If it burns well, it is a good omen, the

blessing of heaven rests upon it. The charcoal and ashes, which are

collected very carefully, are excellent for healing swollen glands; the

part of the trunk which has not been burnt in the fire is used by

ploughmen to make the wedge (_técoin ou cale_) for their plough, because

they allege that it causes the seeds to thrive better; and the women keep

pieces of it till Twelfth Night for the sake of their chickens.

Nevertheless if you sit down on the log, you become subject to boils, and

to cure yourself of them you must pass nine times under a bramble branch

which happens to be rooted in the ground at both ends. The charcoal heals

sheep of a disease called the _goumon_; and the ashes, carefully wrapt up

in white linen, preserve the whole household from accidents. Some people

think that they will have as many chickens as there are sparks that fly

out of the brands of the log when they shake them; and others place the

extinct brands under the bed to drive away vermin. In Vienne, on Christmas

Eve, when supper is over, the master of the house has a great log—the

Christmas brand—brought in, and then, surrounded by all the spectators

gathered in profound silence, he sprinkles salt and water on the log. It

is then put on the fire to burn during the three festivals; but they

carefully preserve a piece to be kindled every time that it

thunders.”(645) In Berry, a district of Central France, the Yule log was

called the _cosse de Nau_, the last word being an abbreviation of the

usual French word for Christmas (Noël). It consisted of an enormous

tree-trunk, so heavy that the united strength of several men was needed to

carry it in and place it on the hearth, where it served to feed the fire

during the three days of the Christmas festivity. Strictly speaking, it

should be the trunk of an old oak-tree which had never been lopped and had

been felled at midnight. It was placed on the hearth at the moment when

the tinkle of the bell announced the elevation of the host at the midnight

mass; and the head of the family, after sprinkling it with holy water, set

it on fire. The remains of the log were preserved till the same day next

year. They were kept under the bed of the master of the house; and

whenever thunder was heard, one of the family would take a piece of the

log and throw it on the fire, which was believed to guard the family

against lightning. In the Middle Ages, we are told, several fiefs were

granted on condition that the vassal should bring in person a Yule log

every year for the hearth of his liege lord.(646)

(M213) Similar customs and beliefs survived till recent years in some of

the remote country villages of the picturesque district known as the

Bocage of Normandy. There it was the grandfather or other oldest man of

the family who chose the Yule log in good time and had it ready for

Christmas Eve. Then he placed it on the hearth at the moment when the

church bell began to ring for the evening service. Kneeling reverently at

the hearth with the members of his family in a like attitude of devotion,

the old man recited three _Pater Nosters_ and three _Aves_, and invoked

the blessing of heaven on the log and on the cottage. Then at the sound of

the bell which proclaimed the sacrament of the mass, or, if the church was

too far off to allow the tinkle of the bell to be heard, at the moment

when they judged that the priest was elevating the host before the high

altar, the patriarch sprinkled the burning log with holy water, blessed it

in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and drew

it out of the fire. The charred log was then carefully kept till the

following Christmas as a precious relic which would guard the house

against the levin bolt, evil spirits, sorcerers, and every misfortune that

might befall in the course of the year.(647) In the department of Orne

“the Yule-log is called _trefouet_; holy water is poured on it; it should

last the three days of the festival, and the remains of it are kept to be

put on the fire when it thunders. This brand is a protection both against

thunder and against sorcerers.”(648) In Upper Brittany, also, the Yule log

is thought to be a safeguard against thunder and lightning. It is

sprinkled with holy water on Christmas morning and allowed to burn till

evening. If a piece of it is thrown into the well, it will ensure a supply

of good water.(649)

(M214)

“In almost all the families of the Ardennes,” we are told, “at the present

day they never fail to put the Yule log on the fireplace, but formerly it

was the object of a superstitious worship which is now obsolete. The

charred remains of it, placed under the pillow or under the house,

preserved the house from storms, and before it was burned the Virgin used

to come and sit on it, invisible, swaddling the infant Jesus. At Nouzon,

twenty years ago, the traditional log was brought into the kitchen on

Christmas Eve, and the grandmother, with a sprig of box in her hand,

sprinkled the log with holy water as soon as the clock struck the first

stroke of midnight. As she did so she chanted,

‘_When Christmas comes,_

_Every one should rejoice,_

_For it is a New Covenant._’

Following the grandmother and joining in the song, the children and the

rest of the family marched thrice round the log, which was as fine a log

as could be got.”(650) We can now, perhaps, understand why in Perigord

people who sat on the Yule log suffered from boils,(651) and why in

Lorraine young folks used to be warned that if they sat on it they would

have the scab.(652) The reason probably was that the Virgin and child were

supposed to be seated, invisible, upon the log and to resent the indignity

of contact with mortal children.

(M215) On Christmas Eve the mountaineers of Rupt, in the Vosges, also

never fail to put on the hearth the largest log which the hearth can hold;

they call it _la galeuche de Noë_, that is, the Yule log. Next morning

they rake the ashes for any charred fragments and keep them as valuable

talismans to guard them against the stroke of lightning. At Vagney and

other places near it in the Vosges it used to be customary on the same

evening to grease the hinges and the latches of the doors, that no harsh

grating sound should break the slumbers of the infant Christ. In the

Vosges Mountains, too, as indeed in many other places, cattle acquired the

gift of speech on Christmas Eve and conversed with each other in the

language of Christians. Their conversation was, indeed, most instructive;

for the future, it seems, had no secret worth mentioning for them. Yet few

people cared to be caught eavesdropping at the byre; wise folk contented

themselves with setting a good store of fodder in the manger, then shut

the door, and left the animals to their ruminations. A farmer of Vecoux

once hid in a corner of the byre to overhear the edifying talk of the

beasts. But it did him little good; for one ox said to another ox, “What

shall we do to-morrow?” and the other replied, “We shall carry our master

to the churchyard.” Sure enough the farmer died that very night and was

buried next morning.(653) In Franche-Comté, the province of France to the

west of the Jura mountains, if the Yule log is really to protect a house

against thunder and lightning, it is essential that it should burn during

the midnight mass, and that the flame should not go out before the divine

service is concluded. Otherwise the log is quite useless for the

purpose.(654) In Burgundy the log which is placed on the fire on Christmas

Eve is called the _suche_. While it is burning, the father of the family,

assisted by his wife and children, sings Christmas carols; and when he has

finished, he tells the smallest children to go into a corner of the room

and pray God that the log may give them sweeties. The prayer is invariably

answered.(655)

(M216) In England the customs and beliefs concerning the Yule log, clog,

or block, as it was variously called, used to be similar. On the night of

Christmas Eve, says the antiquary John Brand, “our ancestors were wont to

light up candles of an uncommon size, called Christmas Candles, and lay a

log of wood upon the fire, called a Yule-clog or Christmas-block, to

illuminate the house, and, as it were, to turn night into day. This custom

is, in some measure, still kept up in the North of England. In the buttery

of St. John’s College, Oxford, an ancient candle-socket of stone still

remains ornamented with the figure of the Holy Lamb. It was formerly used

to burn the Christmas Candle in, on the high table at supper, during the

twelve nights of that festival.”(656) “A tall mould candle, called a Yule

candle, is lighted and set on the table; these candles are presented by

the chandlers and grocers to their customers. The Yule-log is bought of

the carpenters’ lads. It would be unlucky to light either of them before

the time, or to stir the fire or candle during the supper; the candle must

not be snuffed, neither must any one stir from the table till supper is

ended. In these suppers it is considered unlucky to have an odd number at

table. A fragment of the log is occasionally saved, and put under a bed,

to remain till next Christmas: it secures the house from fire; a small

piece of it thrown into a fire occurring at the house of a neighbour, will

quell the raging flame. A piece of the candle should likewise be kept to

ensure good luck.”(657) In the seventeenth century, as we learn from some

verses of Herrick, the English custom was to light the Yule log with a

fragment of its predecessor, which had been kept throughout the year for

the purpose; where it was so kept, the fiend could do no mischief.(658)

Indeed the practice of preserving a piece of the Yule-log of one year to

light that of the next was observed by at least one family at Cheadle in

Staffordshire down to the latter part of the nineteenth century.(659)

(M217) In the North of England farm-servants used to lay by a large knotty

block of wood for the Christmas fire, and so long as the block lasted they

were entitled by custom to ale at their meals. The log was as large as the

hearth could hold.(660) At Belford, in Northumberland, “the lord of the

manor sends round to every house, on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, the

Yule Logs—four or five large logs—to be burnt on Christmas Eve and Day.

This old custom has always, I am told, been kept up here.”(661) The custom

of burning the Yule log at Christmas used to be observed in Wensleydale

and other parts of Yorkshire, and prudent housewives carefully preserved

pieces of the log throughout the year. At Whitby the portions so kept were

stowed away under the bed till next Christmas, when they were burnt with

the new log; in the interval they were believed to protect the house from

conflagration, and if one of them were thrown into the fire, it would

quell a raging storm.(662) The practice and the belief were similar at

Filey on the coast of Yorkshire, where besides the Yule log a tall Yule

candle was lit on the same evening.(663) In the West Riding, while the log

blazed cheerfully, the people quaffed their ale and sang, “Yule! Yule! a

pack of new cards and a Christmas stool!”(664) At Clee, in Lincolnshire,

“when Christmas Eve has come the Yule cake is duly cut and the Yule log

lit, and I know of some even middle-class houses where the new log must

always rest upon and be lighted by the old one, a small portion of which

has been carefully stored away to preserve a continuity of light and

heat.”(665) At the village of Wootton Wawen in Warwickshire, down to 1759

at least, the Yule-block, as it was called, was drawn into the house by a

horse on Christmas Eve “as a foundation for the fire on Christmas Day, and

according to the superstition of those times for the twelve days

following, as the said block was not to be entirely reduc’d to ashes till

that time had passed by.”(666) As late as 1830, or thereabout, the scene

of lighting the hearth-fire on Christmas Eve, to continue burning

throughout the Christmas season, might have been witnessed in the secluded

and beautiful hill-country of West Shropshire, from Chirbury and Worthen

to Pulverbatch and Pontesbury. The Christmas brand or brund, as they

called it, was a great trunk of seasoned oak, holly, yew, or crab-tree,

drawn by horses to the farm-house door and thence rolled by means of

rollers and levers to the back of the wide open hearth, where the fire was

made up in front of it. The embers were raked up to it every night, and it

was carefully tended, that it might not go out during the whole Christmas

season. All those days no light might be struck, given, or borrowed. Such

was the custom at Worthen in the early part of the nineteenth

century.(667) In Herefordshire the Christmas feast “lasted for twelve

days, and no work was done. All houses were, and are now, decorated with

sprigs of holly and ivy, which must not be brought in until Christmas Eve.

A Yule log, as large as the open hearth could accommodate, was brought

into the kitchen of each farmhouse, and smaller ones were used in the

cottages. W—— P—— said he had seen a tree drawn into the kitchen at

Kingstone Grange years ago by two cart horses; when it had been consumed a

small portion was carefully kept to be used for lighting next year’s log.

‘Mother always kept it very carefully; she said it was lucky, and kept the

house from fire and from lightning.’ It seems to have been the general

practice to light it on Christmas Eve.”(668) “In many parts of Wales it is

still customary to keep part of the Yule-log until the following Christmas

Eve ‘for luck.’ It is then put into the fireplace and burnt, but before it

is consumed the new log is put on, and thus ‘the old fire and the new’

burn together. In some families this is done from force of habit, and they

cannot now tell why they do it; but in the past the observance of this

custom was to keep witches away, and doubtless was a survival of

fire-worship.”(669)

(M218) But nowhere, apparently, in Europe is the old heathen ritual of the

Yule log preserved to the present day more perfectly than in Servia. At

early dawn on Christmas Eve (_Badnyi Dan_) every peasant house sends two

of its strongest young men to the nearest forest to cut down a young oak

tree and bring it home. There, after offering up a short prayer or

crossing themselves thrice, they throw a handful of wheat on the chosen

oak and greet it with the words, “Happy _Badnyi_ day to you!” Then they

cut it down, taking care that it shall fall towards the east at the moment

when the sun’s orb appears over the rim of the eastern horizon. Should the

tree fall towards the west, it would be the worst possible omen for the

house and its inmates in the ensuing year; and it is also an evil omen if

the tree should be caught and stopped in its fall by another tree. It is

important to keep and carry home the first chip from the fallen oak. The

trunk is sawn into two or three logs, one of them rather longer than the

others. A flat, unleavened cake of the purest wheaten flour is brought out

of the house and broken on the larger of the logs by a woman. The logs are

left for the present to stand outside, leaning on one of the walls of the

house. Each of them is called a Yule log (_badnyak_).

(M219) Meanwhile the children and young people go from house to house

singing special songs called _Colleda_ because of an old pagan divinity

Colleda, who is invoked in every line. In one of them she is spoken of as

“a beautiful little maid”; in another she is implored to make the cows

yield milk abundantly. The day is spent in busy preparations. The women

bake little cakes of a special sort in the shape of lambs, pigs, and

chickens; the men make ready a pig for roasting, for in every Servian

house roast pig is the principal dish at Christmas. A bundle of straw,

tied with a rope, is brought into the courtyard and left to stand there

near the Yule logs.

(M220) At the moment when the sun is setting all the members of the family

assemble in the central hall (the great family kitchen) of the principal

house. The mother of the family (or the wife of the chief of the

Zadrooga)(670) gives a pair of woollen gloves to one of the young men, who

goes out and presently returns carrying in his gloved hands the largest of

the logs. The mother receives him at the threshold, throwing at him a

handful of wheat, in which the first chip of the oak tree cut in the early

morning for the Yule log has been kept all day. Entering the central hall

with the Yule log the young man greets all present with the words: “Good

evening, and may you have a happy Christmas!” and they all answer in

chorus, “May God and the happy and holy Christmas help thee!” In some

parts of Servia the chief of the family, holding a glass of red wine in

his hand, greets the Yule log as if it were a living person, and drinks to

its health. After that, another glass of red wine is poured on the log.

Then the oldest male member of the family, assisted by the young man who

brought in the log, places it on the burning fire so that the thicker end

of the log protrudes for about a foot from the hearth. In some places this

end is smeared with honey.

(M221) Next the mother of the family brings in the bundle of straw which

was left standing outside. All the young children arrange themselves

behind her in a row. She then walks slowly round the hall and the

adjoining rooms, throwing handfuls of straw on the floor and imitating the

cackling of a hen, while all the children follow her peeping with their

lips as if they were chickens cheeping and waddling after the mother bird.

When the floor is well strewn with straw, the father or the eldest member

of the family throws a few walnuts in every corner of the hall,

pronouncing the words: “In the name of God the Father, and the Son, and

the Holy Ghost, Amen!” A large pot, or a small wooden box, filled with

wheat is placed high in the east corner of the hall, and a tall candle of

yellow wax is stuck in the middle of the wheat. Then the father of the

family reverently lights the candle and prays God to bless the family with

health and happiness, the fields with a good harvest, the beehives with

plenty of honey, the cattle and sheep with young, and the cows with

abundant milk and rich cream. After that they all sit down to supper,

squatting on the floor, for the use of chairs and tables is forbidden on

this occasion.

(M222) By four o’clock next morning (Christmas Day) the whole village is

astir; indeed most people do not sleep at all that night. It is deemed

most important to keep the Yule log burning brightly all night long. Very

early, too, the pig is laid on the fire to roast, and at the same moment

one of the family goes out into the yard and fires a pistol or gun; and

when the roast pig is removed from the fire the shot is repeated. Hence

for several hours in the early morning of Christmas Day such a popping and

banging of firearms goes on that a stranger might think a stubborn

skirmish was in progress. Just before the sun rises a girl goes and draws

water at the village spring or at the brook. Before she fills her vessels,

she wishes the water a happy Christmas and throws a handful of wheat into

it. The first cupfuls of water she brings home are used to bake a special

Christmas cake (_chesnitsa_), of which all the members partake at dinner,

and portions are kept for absent relatives. A small silver coin is baked

in the cake, and he or she who gets it will be lucky during the year.

(M223) All the family gathered round the blazing Yule log now anxiously

expect the arrival of the special Christmas visiter, who bears the title

of _polaznik_. He is usually a young boy of a friendly family. No other

person, not even the priest or the mayor of the village, would be allowed

to set foot in the house before the arrival of this important personage.

Therefore he ought to come, and generally does come, very early in the

morning. He carries a woollen glove full of wheat, and when the door is

opened at his knock he throws handfuls of wheat on the family gathered

round the hearth, greeting them with the words, “Christ is born!” They all

answer, “He is born indeed,” and the hostess flings a handful of wheat

over the Christmas visiter, who moreover casts some of his wheat into the

corners of the hall as well as upon the people. Then he walks straight to

the hearth, takes a shovel and strikes the burning log so that a cloud of

sparks flies up the chimney, while he says, “May you have this year so

many oxen, so many horses, so many sheep, so many pigs, so many beehives

full of honey, so much good luck, prosperity, progress, and happiness!”

Having uttered these good wishes, he embraces and kisses his host. Then he

turns again to the hearth, and after crossing himself falls on his knees

and kisses the projecting part of the Yule log. On rising to his feet he

places a coin on the log as his gift. Meanwhile a low wooden chair has

been brought in by a woman, and the visiter is led to it to take his seat.

But just as he is about to do so, the chair is jerked away from under him

by a male member of the family and he measures his length on the floor. By

this fall he is supposed to fix into the ground all the good wishes which

he has uttered that morning. The hostess thereupon wraps him in a thick

blanket, and he sits quietly muffled in it for a few minutes; the thick

blanket in which he is swathed is believed, on the principles of

homoeopathic magic, to ensure that the cows will give thick cream the next

year. While he sits thus enriching the milk of the dairy, the lads who are

to herd the sheep in the coming year go to the hearth and kneeling down

before it kiss each other across the projecting end of the Yule log. By

this demonstration of affection they are thought to seal the love of the

ewes for their lambs.(671)

(M224) The ritual of the Yule log is observed in a similar form by the

Servians who inhabit the southern provinces of Austria. Thus in Syrmia, a

district of Slavonia which borders on Servia, the head of the house sends

out one or two young men on Christmas Eve to cut the Yule log in the

nearest forest. On being brought in, the log is not mixed with the

ordinary fuel but placed by itself, generally leaning against a fruit-tree

till the evening shadows begin to fall. When a man carries it into the

kitchen and lays it on the fire, the master of the house throws corn over

him, and the two greet each other solemnly, the one saying, “Christ is

born,” and the other answering, “He is born indeed.” Later in the evening

the master of the house pours a glass of wine on the charred end of the

log, whereupon one of the younger men takes the burnt piece of wood,

carries it to the orchard, and sets it up against one of the fruit-trees.

For this service he is rewarded by the master of the house with a piece of

money. On Christmas Day, when the family is assembled at table, they

expect the arrival of the special Christmas visiter (called _polazenik_),

the only person who is allowed to enter the house that day. When he comes,

he goes to the hearth, stirs the fire with the poker and says, “Christ is

born. May the family enjoy all good luck and happiness in this year! May

the cattle increase in number like the sparks I have struck!” As he says

these words, the mistress of the house pours corn over him and leads him

to the parlour, where he takes the place of honour beside the master of

the house. He is treated with marked attention and respect. The family are

at pains to entertain him; they sing their best songs for his amusement,

and after midnight a numerous band of men and maidens escorts him by

torchlight, with songs and jubilation, to his own house.(672)

(M225) Among the Servians of Dalmatia, Herzegovina, and Montenegro it is

customary on Christmas Eve (_Badnyi Dan_) to fetch a great Yule log

(_badnyak_), which serves as a symbol of family luck. It is generally cut

from an evergreen oak, but sometimes from an olive-tree or a beech. At

nightfall the master of the house himself brings in the log and lays it on

the fire. Then he and all present bare their heads, sprinkle the log with

wine, and make a cross on it. After that the master of the house says,

“Welcome, O log! May God keep you from mishap!” So saying he strews peas,

maize, raisins, and wheat on the log, praying for God’s blessing on all

members of the family living and dead, for heaven’s blessing on their

undertakings, and for domestic prosperity. In Montenegro they meet the log

with a loaf of bread and a jug of wine, drink to it, and pour wine on it,

whereupon the whole family drinks out of the same beaker. In Dalmatia and

other places, for example in Rizano, the Yule logs are decked by young

women with red silk, flowers, laurel leaves, ribbons, and even gold wire;

and the lights near the doorposts are kindled when the log is brought into

the house. Among the Morlaks, as soon as the master of the house crosses

the threshold with the Yule log, one of the family must sprinkle corn on

him and say, “God bless you,” to which he answers, “The same to you.” A

piece of the log is kept till New Year’s Day to kindle a light with or it

is carried out to the fields to protect them from hail. It is customary to

invite before hand a Christmas visiter (_polažaynik_) and to admit no one

else into the house on that day. He comes early, carrying in his sleeves a

quantity of corn which he throws into the house, saying, “Christ is born.”

One of the household replies, “He is born indeed,” and throws corn on the

visiter. Then the newcomer goes up to the hearth, pokes the fire and

strikes the burning log with the poker so hard that sparks fly off in all

directions. At each blow he says, “I wish the family as many cows, calves,

sucking pigs, goats, and sheep, and as many strokes of good luck, as the

sparks that now fly from the log.” With these words he throws some small

coins into the ashes.(673) In Albania down to recent years it was a common

custom to burn a Yule log at Christmas, and with it corn, maize, and

beans; moreover, wine and _rakia_ were poured on the flames, and the ashes

of the fire were scattered on the fields to make them fertile.(674) The

Huzuls, a Slavonic people of the Carpathians, kindle fire by the friction

of wood on Christmas Eve (Old Style, the fifth of January) and keep it

burning till Twelfth Night.(675)

(M226) It is remarkable how common the belief appears to have been that

the remains of the Yule-log, if kept throughout the year, had power to

protect the house against fire and especially against lightning.(676) As

the Yule log was frequently of oak,(677) it seems possible that this

belief may be a relic of the old Aryan creed which associated the oak-tree

with the god of thunder.(678) Whether the curative and fertilizing virtues

ascribed to the ashes of the Yule log, which are supposed to heal cattle

as well as men, to enable cows to calve, and to promote the fruitfulness

of the earth,(679) may not be derived from the same ancient source, is a

question which deserves to be considered.

(M227) Thus far we have regarded only the private or domestic celebration

of the fire-festival at midwinter. The public celebration of such rites at

that season of the year appears to have been rare and exceptional in

Central and Northern Europe. However, some instances are on record. Thus

at Schweina, in Thuringia, down to the second half of the nineteenth

century, the young people used to kindle a great bonfire on the Antonius

Mountain every year on Christmas Eve. Neither the civil nor the

ecclesiastical authorities were able to suppress the celebration; nor

could the cold, rain, and snow of the season damp or chill the enthusiasm

of the celebrants. For some time before Christmas the young men and boys

were busy building a foundation for the bonfire on the top of the

mountain, where the oldest church of the village used to stand. The

foundation consisted of a pyramidal structure composed of stones, turf,

and moss. When Christmas Eve came round, a strong pole, with bundles of

brushwood tied to it, was erected on the pyramid. The young folk also

provided themselves with poles to which old brooms or faggots of shavings

were attached. These were to serve as torches. When the evening grew dark

and the church bells rang to service, the troop of lads ascended the

mountain; and soon from the top the glare of the bonfire lit up the

darkness, and the sound of a hymn broke the stillness of night. In a

circle round the great fire lesser fires were kindled; and last of all the

lads ran about swinging their lighted torches, till these twinkling points

of fire, moving down the mountain-side, went out one by one in the

darkness. At midnight the bells rang out from the church tower, mingled

with the blast of horns and the sound of singing. Feasting and revelry

were kept up throughout the night, and in the morning young and old went

to early mass to be edified by hearing of the light eternal.(680)

(M228) In the Bocage of Normandy the peasants used to repair, often from a

distance of miles, to the churches to hear the midnight mass on Christmas

Eve. They marched in procession by torchlight, chanting Christmas carols,

and the fitful illumination of the woods, the hedges, and the fields as

they moved through the darkness, presented a succession of picturesque

scenes. Mention is also made of bonfires kindled on the heights; the

custom is said to have been observed at Athis near Condé down to recent

years.(681)

(M229) In the Isle of Man, “on the twenty-first of December, a day

dedicated to Saint Thomas, the people went to the mountains to catch deer

and sheep for Christmas, and in the evenings always kindled a large fire

on the top of every _fingan_ or cliff. Hence, at the time of casting

peats, every one laid aside a large one, saying, ‘_Faaid mooar moayney son

oie’l fingan_’; that is, ‘a large turf for Fingan Eve.’ ”(682) At

Burghead, an ancient village on the southern shore of the Moray Firth,

about nine miles from the town of Elgin, a festival of fire called “the

Burning of the Clavie” has been celebrated from time immemorial on

Hogmanay, the last day of December. A tar-barrel is sawn in two, one half

of it is set on the top of a stout pole, and filled with tar and other

combustibles. The half-barrel is fastened to the pole by means of a long

nail, which is made for the purpose and furnished gratuitously by the

village blacksmith. The nail must be knocked in with a stone; the use of a

hammer is forbidden. When the shades of evening have begun to fall, the

Clavie, as it is called, is set on fire by means of a burning peat, which

is always fetched from the same house; it may not be kindled with a match.

As soon as it is in a blaze, it is shouldered by a man, who proceeds to

carry it at a run, flaring and dripping melted tar, round the old

boundaries of the village; the modern part of the town is not included in

the circuit. Close at his heels follows a motley crowd, cheering and

shouting. One bearer relieves another as each wearies of his burden. The

first to shoulder the Clavie, which is esteemed an honour, is usually a

man who has been lately married. Should the bearer stumble or fall, it is

deemed a very ill omen for him and for the village. In bygone times it was

thought necessary that one man should carry it all round the village;

hence the strongest man was chosen for the purpose. Moreover it was

customary to carry the burning Clavie round every fishing-boat and vessel

in the harbour; but this part of the ceremony was afterwards discontinued.

Finally, the blazing tar-barrel is borne to a small hill called the

Doorie, which rises near the northern end of the promontory. Here the pole

is fixed into a socket in a pillar of freestone, and fresh fuel is heaped

upon the flames, which flare up higher and brighter than ever. Formerly

the Clavie was allowed to burn here the whole night, but now, after

blazing for about half an hour, it is lifted from the socket and thrown

down the western slope of the hill. Then the crowd rushes upon it,

demolishes it, and scrambles for the burning, smoking embers, which they

carry home and carefully preserve as charms to protect them against

witchcraft and misfortune.(683) The great antiquity of Burghead, where

this curious and no doubt ancient festival is still annually observed,

appears from the remains of a very remarkable rampart which formerly

encircled the place. It consists of a mound of earth faced on both sides

with a solid wall of stone and strengthened internally by oak beams and

planks, the whole being laid on a foundation of boulders. The style of the

rampart agrees in general with Caesar’s description of the mode in which

the Gauls constructed their walls of earth, stone, and logs,(684) and it

resembles the ruins of Gallic fortifications which have been discovered in

France, though it is said to surpass them in the strength and solidity of

its structure. No similar walls appear to be known in Britain. A great

part of this interesting prehistoric fortress was barbarously destroyed in

the early part of the nineteenth century, much of it being tumbled into

the sea and many of the stones used to build the harbour piers.(685)

(M230) In Lerwick, the capital of the Shetland Islands, “on Christmas Eve,

the fourth of January,—for the old style is still observed—the children go

_a guizing_, that is to say, they disguising themselves in the most

fantastic and gaudy costumes, parade the streets, and infest the houses

and shops, begging for the wherewithal to carry on their Christmas

amusements. One o’clock on Yule morning having struck, the young men turn

out in large numbers, dressed in the coarsest of garments, and, at the

double-quick march, drag huge tar barrels through the town, shouting and

cheering as they go, or blowing loud blasts with their ‘louder horns.’ The

tar barrel simply consists of several—say from four to eight—tubs filled

with tar and chips, placed on a platform of wood. It is dragged by means

of a chain, to which scores of jubilant youths readily yoke themselves.

They have recently been described by the worthy burgh officer of Lerwick

as ‘fiery chariots, the effect of which is truly grand and terrific.’ In a

Christmas morning the dark streets of Lerwick are generally lighted up by

the bright glare, and its atmosphere blackened by the dense smoke of six

or eight tar barrels in succession. On the appearance of daybreak, at six

A.M., the morning revellers put off their coarse garments—well begrimed by

this time—and in their turn become guizards. They assume every imaginable

form of costume—those of soldiers, sailors, highlanders, Spanish

chevaliers, etc. Thus disguised, they either go in pairs, as man and wife,

or in larger groups, and proceed to call on their friends, to wish them

the compliments of the season. Formerly, these adolescent guizards used to

seat themselves in crates, and accompanied by fiddlers, were dragged

through the town.”(686)

(M231) The Persians used to celebrate a festival of fire called _Sada_ or

_Saza_ at the winter solstice. On the longest night of the year they

kindled bonfires everywhere, and kings and princes tied dry grass to the

feet of birds and animals, set fire to the grass, and then let the birds

and beasts fly or run blazing through the air or over the fields and

mountains, so that the whole air and earth appeared to be on fire.(687)

§ 8. The Need-fire.

(M232) The fire-festivals hitherto described are all celebrated

periodically at certain stated times of the year. But besides these

regularly recurring celebrations the peasants in many parts of Europe have

been wont from time immemorial to resort to a ritual of fire at irregular

intervals in seasons of distress and calamity, above all when their cattle

were attacked by epidemic disease. No account of the popular European

fire-festivals would be complete without some notice of these remarkable

rites, which have all the greater claim on our attention because they may

perhaps be regarded as the source and origin of all the other

fire-festivals; certainly they must date from a very remote antiquity. The

general name by which they are known among the Teutonic peoples is

need-fire.(688)

(M233) The history of the need-fire can be traced back to the early Middle

Ages; for in the reign of Pippin, King of the Franks, the practice of

kindling need-fires was denounced as a heathen superstition by a synod of

prelates and nobles held under the presidency of Boniface, Archbishop of

Mainz.(689) Not long afterwards the custom was again forbidden, along with

many more relics of expiring paganism, in an “Index of Superstitions and

Heathenish Observances,” which has been usually referred to the year 743

A.D., though some scholars assign it a later date under the reign of

Charlemagne.(690) In Germany the need-fires would seem to have been

popular down to the second half of the nineteenth century. Thus in the

year 1598, when a fatal cattle-plague was raging at Neustadt, near

Marburg, a wise man of the name of Joh. Köhler induced the authorities of

the town to adopt the following remedy. A new waggon-wheel was taken and

twirled round an axle, which had never been used before, until the

friction elicited fire. With this fire a bonfire was next kindled between

the gates of the town, and all the cattle were driven through the smoke

and flames. Moreover, every householder had to rekindle the fire on his

hearth by means of a light taken from the bonfire. Strange to say, this

salutary measure had no effect whatever in staying the cattle-plague, and

seven years later the sapient Joh. Köhler himself was burnt as a witch.

The farmers, whose pigs and cows had derived no benefit from the

need-fire, perhaps assisted as spectators at the burning, and, while they

shook their heads, agreed among themselves that it served Joh. Köhler

perfectly right.(691) According to a writer who published his book about

nine years afterwards, some of the Germans, especially in the Wassgaw

mountains, confidently believed that a cattle-plague could be stayed by

driving the animals through a need-fire which had been kindled by the

violent friction of a pole on a quantity of dry oak wood; but it was a

necessary condition of success that all fires in the village should

previously be extinguished with water, and any householder who failed to

put out his fire was heavily fined.(692)

(M234) The method of kindling the need-fire is described as follows by a

writer towards the end of the seventeenth century: “When an evil plague

has broken out among the cattle, large and small, and the herds have

thereby suffered great ravages, the peasants resolve to light a need-fire.

On a day appointed there must be no single flame in any house nor on any

hearth. From every house a quantity of straw and water and underwood must

be brought forth; then a strong oaken pole is fixed firmly in the earth, a

hole is bored in it, and a wooden winch, well smeared with pitch and tar,

is inserted in the hole and turned round forcibly till great heat and then

fire is generated. The fire so produced is caught in fuel and fed with

straw, heath, and underwood till it bursts out into a regular need-fire,

which must then be somewhat spread out between walls or fences, and the

cattle and horses driven through it twice or thrice with sticks and whips.

Others set up two posts, each with a hole in it, and insert a winch, along

with old greasy rags, in the holes. Others use a thick rope, collect nine

kinds of wood, and keep them in violent motion till fire leaps forth.

Perhaps there may be other ways of generating or kindling this fire, but

they are all directed simply at the cure of the cattle. After passing

twice or thrice through the fire the cattle are driven to their stalls or

to pasture, and the heap of wood that had been collected is destroyed, but

in some places every householder must take with him a brand, extinguish it

in a washing-tub or trough, and put it in the manger where the cattle are

fed, where it must lie for some time. The poles that were used to make the

need-fire, together with the wood that was employed as a winch, are

sometimes burned with the rest of the fuel, sometimes carefully preserved

after the cattle have been thrice driven through the flames.”(693)