§ 1. Tree-spirits—Great forests of ancient Europe; tree-worship
practised by all Aryan races in Europe; trees regarded as animate;
tree-spirits, sacrifices to trees; trees sensitive to wounds;
apologies for cutting down trees; bleeding trees; trees
threatened to make them bear fruit; attempts to deceive spirits of
trees and plants; trees married to each other; trees in
blossom and rice in bloom treated like pregnant women; trees
tenanted by the souls of the dead; trees as the abode, not the
body, of spirits; ceremonies at felling trees; propitiating
tree-spirits in house-timber; sacred trees the abode of spirits;
sacred groves.
§ 2. Beneficent Powers of Tree-spirits—Tree-spirit develops into
anthropomorphic deity of the woods; tree-spirits give rain and sunshine;
tree-spirits make crops to grow; the Harvest May
and kindred customs; tree-spirits make herds and women fruitful;
green boughs protect against witchcraft; influence of tree-spirits
on cattle among the Wends, Esthonians, and Circassians;
tree-spirits grant offspring or easy delivery to women.
Chapter X.—Relics of Tree-worship in
Modern Europe Pp. 59-96
May-trees in Europe, especially England; May-garlands in England;
May customs in France, Germany, and Greece; Whitsuntide
customs in Russia; May-trees in Germany and Sweden;
Midsummer trees and poles in Sweden; village May-poles in
England and Germany; tree-spirit detached from tree and represented
in human form, Esthonian tale; tree-spirit represented
simultaneously in vegetable and human form; the Little May
Rose; the Walber; Green George; double representation
of tree-spirit by tree and man among the Oraons; double
representation of harvest-goddess Gauri; W. Mannhardt’s conclusions;
tree-spirit or vegetation-spirit represented by a person
alone; leaf-clad mummers (Green George, Little Leaf Man, Jack-in-the-Green,
etc.); leaf-clad mummers called Kings or Queens
(King and Queen of May, Whitsuntide King, etc.); Whitsuntide
Bridegroom and Bride; Midsummer Bridegroom and Bride;
the Forsaken Bridegroom or Bride; St. Bride in Scotland and the
Isle of Man; May Bride or Whitsuntide Bride.
Chapter XI.—The Influence of the
Sexes on Vegetation Pp. 97-119
The marriage of the King and Queen of May intended to promote the growth of
vegetation by homoeopathic magic; intercourse of the sexes practised
to make the crops grow and fruit-trees to bear fruit; parents
of twins supposed to fertilise the bananas in Uganda; relics of
similar customs in Europe; continence practised in order to
make the crops grow; incest and illicit love supposed to blight
the fruits of the earth by causing drought or excessive rain;
traces of similar beliefs as to the blighting effect of adultery and incest
among the ancient Jews, Greeks, Romans, and Irish; possible
influence of such beliefs on the institution of the forbidden degrees of
kinship; explanation of the seeming contradiction of the foregoing
customs; indirect benefit to humanity of some of these superstitions.
§ 1. Diana as a Goddess of Fertility—Dramatic marriages of gods
and goddesses as a charm to promote vegetation; Diana as a
goddess of the woodlands; sanctity of holy groves in antiquity;
the breaking of the Golden Bough a solemn rite, not a mere
piece of bravado; Diana a goddess of the teeming life of nature,
both animal and vegetable; deities of woodlands naturally the
patrons of the beasts of the woods; the crowning of hunting
dogs on Diana’s day a purification for their slaughter of the beasts of the
wood; as goddess of the moon, especially the yellow harvest
moon, Diana a goddess of crops and of childbirth; as a goddess
of fertility Diana needed a male partner.
§ 2. The Marriage of the Gods—Marriages of the gods in Babylonia
and Assyria; marriage of the god Ammon to the Queen of
Egypt; Apollo and his prophetess at Patara; Artemis and
the Essenes at Ephesus; marriage of Dionysus and the Queen at
Athens; marriage of Zeus and Demeter at Eleusis;
marriage of Zeus and Hera at Plataea; marriage of Zeus and
Hera in other parts of Greece; the god Frey and his human wife in
Sweden; similar rites in ancient Gaul; marriages of
gods to images or living women among uncivilised peoples;
custom of the Wotyaks; custom of the Peruvian Indians;
marriage of a woman to the Sun among the Blackfoot Indians;
marriage of girls to fishing-nets among the Hurons and Algonquins;
marriage of the Sun-god and Earth-goddess among the Oraons;
marriage of women to gods in India and Africa;
marriage of women to water-gods and crocodiles; virgin sacrificed
as a bride to the jinnee of the sea in the Maldive Islands.
§ 3. Sacrifices to Water-spirits—Stories of the Perseus and Andromeda
type; water-spirits conceived as serpents or dragons;
sacrifices of human beings to water-spirits; water-spirits
as dispensers of fertility; water-spirits bestow offspring on
women; love of river-spirits for women in Greek mythology;
the Slaying of the Dragon at Furth in Bavaria; St.
Romain and the Dragon at Rouen.
Chapter XIII.—The Kings of Rome
and Alba Pp. 171-194
§ 1. Numa and Egeria—Egeria a nymph of water and the oak,
perhaps a form of Diana; marriage of Numa and Egeria a
reminiscence of the marriage of the King of Rome to a goddess of water
and vegetation.
§ 2. The King as Jupiter—The Roman king personated Jupiter
and wore his costume; the oak crown as a symbol of divinity;
personation of the dead by masked men among the Romans;
the kings of Alba as personifications of Jupiter; legends of
the deaths of Roman kings point to their connexion with the thunder-god;
local Jupiters in Latium; the oak-groves of ancient
Rome; Latian Jupiter on the Alban Mount; woods of
Latium in antiquity; Latin worship of Jupiter like the Druidical
worship of the oak; sacred marriage of Jupiter and Juno;
Janus and Carnathe Flamen Dialis and Flaminica
as representatives of Jupiter and Juno; marriage of the Roman
king to the oak-goddess.
Sacred marriage of the Fire-god with a woman; legends of the birth
of Latin kings from Vestal Virgins impregnated by the fire;
Vestal Virgins as wives of the Fire-god; the Vestal fire originally
the fire on the king’s hearth; the round temple of Vesta a copy
of the old round hut of the early Latins; rude pottery used in
Roman ritual; superstitions as to the making of pottery;
sanctity of the storeroom at Rome; the temple of Vesta with its
sacred fire a copy of the king’s house.
Vestal fire at Rome rekindled by the fire-drill; use of the fire-drill by savages;
the fire-sticks regarded by savages as male and female;
fire-customs of the Herero; sacred fire among the Herero
maintained in the chief’s hut by his unmarried daughter; the
Herero chief as priest of the hearth; sacred Herero fire
rekindled by fire-sticks, which are regarded as male and female, and are
made from the sacred ancestral tree; the sacred Herero hearth
a special seat of the ancestral spirits; sacred fire-sticks of the
Herero represent deceased ancestors; sacred fire-boards as
family deities among the Koryaks and Chuckchees.
Chapter XVI.—Father Jove and
Mother Vesta Pp. 227-252
Similarity between the fire-customs of the Herero and the ancient Latins;
rites performed by the Vestals for the fertility of the earth and
the fecundity of cattle; the Vestals as embodiments of Vesta, a
mother-goddess of fertility; the domestic fire as a fecundating
agent in marriage ritual; newborn children and the domestic
fire; reasons for ascribing a procreative virtue to fire;
fire kindled by friction by human representatives of the Fire-father and
Fire-mother; fire kindled by friction by boy and girl or by man
and woman; human fire-makers sometimes married, sometimes
unmarried; holy fire and virgins of St. Brigit in Ireland;
the oaks of Erin; virgin priestesses of fire in
ancient Peru and Mexico; the Agnihotris or fire-priests of the
Brahmans; kinds of wood employed for fire-sticks in India
and ancient Greece.
Chapter XVII.—The Origin of Perpetual
Fires Pp. 253-265
Custom of perpetual fires probably originated in motives of convenience;
races reported to be ignorant of the means of making fire; fire
probably used by men before they knew how to kindle it;
savages carry fire with them as a matter of convenience;
Prometheus the fire-bringer; perpetual fires maintained by chiefs
and kings; fire extinguished at king’s death.
Chapter XVIII.—The Succession to
the Kingdom in Ancient Latium Pp. 266-323
The sacred functions of Latin kings in general probably the same as those of the
Roman kings; question of the rule of succession to the Latin
kingship; list of Alban kings; list of Roman kings;
Latin kingship apparently transmitted in female line to foreign
husbands of princesses; miraculous births of kings explained on
this hypothesis; marriage of princesses to men of inferior rank
in Africa; traces of female descent of kingship in Greece;
and in Scandinavia; reminiscence of such descent in
popular tales; female descent of kingship among the Picts, the
Lydians, the Danes, and the Saxons; traces of female kinship
or mother-kin among the Aryans, the Picts, and the Etruscans;
mother-kin may survive in royal families after it has been superseded by
father-kin among commoners; the Roman kings plebeians, not
patricians; the first consuls at Rome heirs to the throne according
to mother-kin; attempt of Tarquin to change the line of succession
from the female to the male line; the hereditary principle
compatible with the elective principle in succession to the throne;
combination of the hereditary with the elective principle in succession to
the kingship in Africa and Assam; similar combination perhaps
in force at Rome; personal qualities required in kings and
chiefs; succession to the throne determined by a race;
custom of racing for a bride; contests for a bride other than
a race; the Flight of the King (Regifugium) at Rome perhaps
a relic of a contest for the kingdom and the hand of a princess;
confirmation of this theory from the practice of killing a human representative
of Saturn at the Saturnalia; violent ends of Roman
kings; death of Romulus on the Nonae Caprotinae (7th July), an
old licentious festival like the Saturnalia for the fertilisation of the fig;
violent deaths of other Roman kings; succession to
Latin kingship perhaps decided by single combat; African parallels;
Greek and Italian kings may have personated Cronus and Saturn
before they personated Zeus and Jupiter.
Chapter XIX.—St. George and the
Parilia Pp. 324-348
The early Italians a pastoral as well as agricultural people; the
shepherds’ festival of the Parilia on 21st April; intention of
the festival to ensure the welfare of the flocks and herds and to guard
them against witches and wolves; festival of the same kind still
held in Eastern Europe on 23rd April, St. George’s Day; precautions
taken by the Esthonians against witches and wolves on St. George’s
Day, when they drive out the cattle to pasture for the first time;
St. George’s Day a pastoral festival in Russia; among the
Ruthenians, among the Huzuls of the Carpathians; St.
George as the patron of horses in Silesia and Bavaria; St.
George’s Day among the Saxons and Roumanians of Transylvania;
St. George’s Day a herdsman’s festival among the Walachians,
Bulgarians, and South Slavs; precautions taken against witches
and wolves whenever the cattle are driven out to pasture for the first
time, as in Prussia and Sweden; these parallels illustrate some
features of the Parilia; St. George as a personification of trees
or vegetation in general; St. George as patron of childbirth and
love; St. George seems to have displaced an old Aryan god of
the spring, such as the Lithuanian Pergrubiusk.
§ 1. The Diffusion of the Oak in Europe—Jupiter the god
of the oak, the sky, and thunder; of these attributes the oak is
probably primary and the sky and thunder secondary; Europe
covered with oak forests in prehistoric times; remains of oaks found
in peat-bogs; ancient lake dwellings built on oaken piles;
evidence of classical writers as to oak forests in antiquity;
oak-woods in modern Europe.
§ 2. The Aryan God of the Oak and the Thunder—Aryan worship
of the oak and of the god of the oak; Zeus as the god of the oak,
the thunder, and the rain in ancient Greece; Jupiter as the god
of the oak, the thunder, and the rain in ancient Italy; Celtic
worship of the oak; Donar and Thor the Teutonic gods of the
oak and thunder; Perun the god of the oak and thunder among the
Slavs; Perkunas the god of the oak and thunder among the
Lithuanians; Taara the god of the oak and thunder among
the Esthonians; Parjanya, the old Indian god of thunder, rain,
and fertility; gods of thunder and rain in America, Africa, and
the Caucasus; traces of the worship of the oak in modern Europe;
in the great European god of the oak, the thunder, and the
rain, the original element seems to have been the oak.
Recapitulation: rise of sacred kings endowed with magical or divine powers;
the King of the Wood at Nemi seems to have personified
Jupiter the god of the oak and to have mated with Diana the goddess
of the oak; Dianus (Janus) and Diana originally dialectically
different forms of Jupiter and Juno; Janus (Dianus) not originally
a god of doors; double-headed figure of Janus (Dianus) derived
from a custom of placing him as sentinel at doorways; parallel
custom among the negroes of Surinam; originally the King of
the Wood at Nemi represented Dianus (Janus), a duplicate form of Jupiter,
the god of the oak, the thunder, and the sky.
The preceding investigation has proved that the same
|Departmental kings of nature.|
union of sacred functions with a royal title which meets us
in the King of the Wood at Nemi, the Sacrificial King at
Rome, and the magistrate called the King at Athens, occurs
frequently outside the limits of classical antiquity and is
a common feature of societies at all stages from barbarism
to civilisation. Further, it appears that the royal priest is
often a king, not only in name but in fact, swaying the
sceptre as well as the crosier. All this confirms the
traditional view of the origin of the titular and priestly
kings in the republics of ancient Greece and Italy. At
least by shewing that the combination of spiritual and
temporal power, of which Graeco-Italian tradition preserved
the memory, has actually existed in many places, we have
obviated any suspicion of improbability that might have
attached to the tradition. Therefore we may now fairly
ask, May not the King of the Wood have had an origin like
that which a probable tradition assigns to the Sacrificial
King of Rome and the titular King of Athens? In other
words, may not his predecessors in office have been a line of
kings whom a republican revolution stripped of their political
power, leaving them only their religious functions and the
shadow of a crown? There are at least two reasons for
answering this question in the negative. One reason is
drawn from the abode of the priest of Nemi; the other from
his title, the King of the Wood. If his predecessors had
been kings in the ordinary sense, he would surely have been
found residing, like the fallen kings of Rome and Athens, in
2the city of which the sceptre had passed from him. This
city must have been Aricia, for there was none nearer. But
Aricia was three miles off from his forest sanctuary by the
lake shore. If he reigned, it was not in the city, but in the
greenwood. Again his title, King of the Wood, hardly
allows us to suppose that he had ever been a king in the
common sense of the word. More likely he was a king of
nature, and of a special side of nature, namely, the woods
from which he took his title. If we could find instances of
what we may call departmental kings of nature, that is of
persons supposed to rule over particular elements or aspects
of nature, they would probably present a closer analogy to the
King of the Wood than the divine kings we have been hitherto
considering, whose control of nature is general rather than
special. Instances of such departmental kings are not wanting.
|Kings of rain in Africa.|
On a hill at Bomma near the mouth of the Congo dwells
Namvulu Vumu, King of the Rain and Storm.[1] Of some
of the tribes on the Upper Nile we are told that they have
no kings in the common sense; the only persons whom they
acknowledge as such are the Kings of the Rain, Mata Kodou,
who are credited with the power of giving rain at the proper
time, that is in the rainy season. Before the rains begin
to fall at the end of March the country is a parched and
arid desert; and the cattle, which form the people’s chief
wealth, perish for lack of grass. So, when the end of March
draws on, each householder betakes himself to the King of
the Rain and offers him a cow that he may make the blessed
waters of heaven to drip on the brown and withered pastures.
If no shower falls, the people assemble and demand that the
king shall give them rain; and if the sky still continues cloudless,
they rip up his belly, in which he is believed to keep the
storms. Amongst the Bari tribe one of these Rain Kings made
rain by sprinkling water on the ground out of a handbell.[2]
|Priesthood of the Alfai.|
Among tribes on the outskirts of Abyssinia a similar
office exists and has been thus described by an observer.
3“The priesthood of the Alfai, as he is called by the Barea
and Kunama, is a remarkable one; he is believed to be able
to make rain. This office formerly existed among the
Algeds and appears to be still common to the Nuba negroes.
The Alfai of the Barea, who is also consulted by the
northern Kunama, lives near Tembadere on a mountain
alone with his family. The people bring him tribute in the
form of clothes and fruits, and cultivate for him a large field
of his own. He is a kind of king, and his office passes by
inheritance to his brother or sister’s son. He is supposed to
conjure down rain and to drive away the locusts. But if he
disappoints the people’s expectation and a great drought
arises in the land, the Alfai is stoned to death, and his
nearest relations are obliged to cast the first stone at him.
When we passed through the country, the office of Alfai was
still held by an old man; but I heard that rain-making had
proved too dangerous for him and that he had renounced
his office.”[3]
|Kings of Fire and Water in Cambodia.|
In the backwoods of Cambodia live two mysterious
sovereigns known as the King of the Fire and the King of
the Water. Their fame is spread all over the south of the
great Indo-Chinese peninsula; but only a faint echo of it
has reached the West. Down to a few years ago no European,
so far as is known, had ever seen either of them;
and their very existence might have passed for a fable, were
it not that till lately communications were regularly maintained
between them and the King of Cambodia, who year
by year exchanged presents with them. The Cambodian
gifts were passed from tribe to tribe till they reached their
destination; for no Cambodian would essay the long and
perilous journey. The tribe amongst whom the Kings of
Fire and Water reside is the Chréais or Jaray, a race with
European features but a sallow complexion, inhabiting the
forest-clad mountains and high tablelands which separate
Cambodia from Annam. Their royal functions are of a
purely mystic or spiritual order; they have no political
authority; they are simple peasants, living by the sweat of
4their brow and the offerings of the faithful. According to
one account they live in absolute solitude, never meeting
each other and never seeing a human face. They inhabit
successively seven towers perched upon seven mountains,
and every year they pass from one tower to another.
People come furtively and cast within their reach what is
needful for their subsistence. The kingship lasts seven
years, the time necessary to inhabit all the towers successively;
but many die before their time is out. The offices
are hereditary in one or (according to others) two royal
families, who enjoy high consideration, have revenues
assigned to them, and are exempt from the necessity of
tilling the ground. But naturally the dignity is not coveted,
and when a vacancy occurs, all eligible men (they must be
strong and have children) flee and hide themselves. Another
account, admitting the reluctance of the hereditary candidates
to accept the crown, does not countenance the report of
their hermit-like seclusion in the seven towers. For it
represents the people as prostrating themselves before the
mystic kings whenever they appear in public, it being
thought that a terrible hurricane would burst over the
country if this mark of homage were omitted. Probably,
however, these are mere fables such as commonly shed a
glamour of romance over the distant and unknown. A
French officer, who had an interview with the redoubtable
Fire King in February 1891, found him stretched on a
bamboo couch, diligently smoking a long copper pipe, and
surrounded by people who paid him no great deference. In
spite of his mystic vocation the sorcerer had no charm or
talisman about him, and was in no way distinguishable from
his fellows except by his tall stature. Another writer reports
that the two kings are much feared, because they are supposed
to possess the evil eye; hence every one avoids them, and the
potentates considerately cough to announce their approach
and to allow people to get out of their way. They enjoy
extraordinary privileges and immunities, but their authority
does not extend beyond the few villages of their neighbourhood.
Like many other sacred kings, of whom we shall
read in the sequel, the Kings of Fire and Water are not
allowed to die a natural death, for that would lower their
5reputation. Accordingly when one of them is seriously ill,
the elders hold a consultation and if they think he cannot
recover they stab him to death. His body is burned and
the ashes are piously collected and publicly honoured for
five years. Part of them is given to the widow, and she
keeps them in an urn, which she must carry on her back
when she goes to weep on her husband’s grave.
|Supernatural powers of the Kings of Fire and Water.|
We are told that the Fire King, the more important
of the two, whose supernatural powers have never been
questioned, officiates at marriages, festivals, and sacrifices in
honour of the Yan or spirit. On these occasions a special place
is set apart for him; and the path by which he approaches is
spread with white cotton cloths. A reason for confining the
royal dignity to the same family is that this family is in
possession of certain famous talismans which would lose
their virtue or disappear if they passed out of the family.
These talismans are three: the fruit of a creeper called Cui,
gathered ages ago at the time of the last deluge, but still
fresh and green; a rattan, also very old but bearing flowers
that never fade; and lastly, a sword containing a Yan or
spirit, who guards it constantly and works miracles with it.
The spirit is said to be that of a slave, whose blood chanced
to fall upon the blade while it was being forged, and who died
a voluntary death to expiate his involuntary offence. By
means of the two former talismans the Water King can raise
a flood that would drown the whole earth. If the Fire King
draws the magic sword a few inches from its sheath, the sun
is hidden and men and beasts fall into a profound sleep;
were he to draw it quite out of the scabbard, the world
would come to an end. To this wondrous brand sacrifices
of buffaloes, pigs, fowls, and ducks are offered for rain. It
is kept swathed in cotton and silk; and amongst the annual
presents sent by the King of Cambodia were rich stuffs to
wrap the sacred sword.
|Gifts sent by the Kings of Fire and Water to the King of Cambodia.|
In return the Kings of Fire and Water sent him a
huge wax candle and two calabashes, one full of rice and
the other of sesame. The candle bore the impress of the
Fire King’s middle finger, and was probably thought to
contain the seed of fire, which the Cambodian monarch
thus received once a year fresh from the Fire King himself
6This holy candle was kept for sacred uses. On reaching the
capital of Cambodia it was entrusted to the Brahmans, who
laid it up beside the regalia, and with the wax made tapers
which were burned on the altars on solemn days. As the
candle was the special gift of the Fire King, we may conjecture
that the rice and sesame were the special gift of
the Water King. The latter was doubtless king of rain as
well as of water, and the fruits of the earth were boons conferred
by him on men. In times of calamity, as during
plague, floods, and war, a little of this sacred rice and sesame
was scattered on the ground “to appease the wrath of the
maleficent spirits.” Contrary to the common usage of the
country, which is to bury the dead, the bodies of both these
mystic monarchs are burnt, but their nails and some of their
teeth and bones are religiously preserved as amulets. It is
while the corpse is being consumed on the pyre that the
kinsmen of the deceased magician flee to the forest and hide
themselves for fear of being elevated to the invidious dignity
which he has just vacated. The people go and search for
them, and the first whose lurking place they discover is
made King of Fire or Water.[4]
These, then, are examples of what I have called departmental
kings of nature. But it is a far cry to Italy from
the forests of Cambodia and the sources of the Nile. And
though Kings of Rain, Water, and Fire have been found, we
have still to discover a King of the Wood to match the
Arician priest who bore that title. Perhaps we shall find
him nearer home.
CHAPTER IX THE WORSHIP OF TREES — § 1. Tree-spirits — § 2. Beneficent Powers of Tree-Spirits
7
|Great forests of ancient Europe.|
In the religious history of the Aryan race in Europe the
worship of trees has played an important part. Nothing
could be more natural. For at the dawn of history Europe
was covered with immense primaeval forests, in which the
scattered clearings must have appeared like islets in an
ocean of green. Down to the first century before our era
the Hercynian forest stretched eastward from the Rhine for
a distance at once vast and unknown; Germans whom
Caesar questioned had travelled for two months through it
without reaching the end.[5] Four centuries later it was
visited by the Emperor Julian, and the solitude, the gloom,
the silence of the forest appear to have made a deep impression
on his sensitive nature. He declared that he knew
nothing like it in the Roman empire.[6] In our own country
the wealds of Kent, Surrey, and Sussex are remnants of the
great forest of Anderida, which once clothed the whole of
the south-eastern portion of the island. Westward it seems
to have stretched till it joined another forest that extended
from Hampshire to Devon. In the reign of Henry II. the
citizens of London still hunted the wild bull and the boar in
the woods of Hampstead. Even under the later Plantagenets
the royal forests were sixty-eight in number. In the forest
of Arden it was said that down to modern times a squirrel
might leap from tree to tree for nearly the whole length of
8Warwickshire.[7] The excavation of ancient pile-villages in
the valley of the Po has shewn that long before the rise
and probably the foundation of Rome the north of Italy was
covered with dense woods of elms, chestnuts, and especially
of oaks.[8] Archaeology is here confirmed by history; for
classical writers contain many references to Italian forests
which have now disappeared.[9] As late as the fourth century
before our era Rome was divided from central Etruria by
the dreaded Ciminian forest, which Livy compares to the
woods of Germany. No merchant, if we may trust the
Roman historian, had ever penetrated its pathless solitudes:
and it was deemed a most daring feat when a Roman
general, after sending two scouts to explore its intricacies,
led his army into the forest and, making his way to a
ridge of the wooded mountains, looked down on the rich
Etrurian fields spread out below.[10] In Greece beautiful
woods of pine, oak, and other trees still linger on the slopes
of the high Arcadian mountains, still adorn with their
verdure the deep gorge through which the Ladon hurries
to join the sacred Alpheus; and were still, down to a few
years ago, mirrored in the dark blue waters of the lonely
lake of Pheneus; but they are mere fragments of the forests
which clothed great tracts in antiquity, and which at a more
remote epoch may have spanned the Greek peninsula from
sea to sea.[11]
|Tree-worship practised by all the Aryan races in Europe.|
From an examination of the Teutonic words for “temple”
Grimm has made it probable that amongst the Germans the
9oldest sanctuaries were natural woods.[12] However this may
be, tree-worship is well attested for all the great European
families of the Aryan stock. Amongst the Celts the oak-worship
of the Druids is familiar to every one,[13] and their old
word for a sanctuary seems to be identical in origin and
meaning with the Latin némus, a grove or woodland glade,
which still survives in the name of Nemi.[14] Sacred groves
were common among the ancient Germans, and tree-worship
is hardly extinct amongst their descendants at the present
day.[15] How serious that worship was in former times may
be gathered from the ferocious penalty appointed by the old
German laws for such as dared to peel the bark of a
standing tree. The culprit’s navel was to be cut out and
nailed to the part of the tree which he had peeled, and he
was to be driven round and round the tree till all his guts
were wound about its trunk.[16] The intention of the punishment
clearly was to replace the dead bark by a living
substitute taken from the culprit; it was a life for a life, the
life of a man for the life of a tree. At Upsala, the old
religious capital of Sweden, there was a sacred grove in
which every tree was regarded as divine.[17] The heathen
Slavs worshipped trees and groves.[18] The Lithuanians were
not converted to Christianity till towards the close of the
fourteenth century, and amongst them at the date of their
conversion the worship of trees was prominent. Some of
them revered remarkable oaks and other great shady trees,
from which they received oracular responses. Some maintained
holy groves about their villages or houses, where even
to break a twig would have been a sin. They thought that
he who cut a bough in such a grove either died suddenly or
was crippled in one of his limbs.[19] Proofs of the prevalence
10of tree-worship in ancient Greece and Italy are abundant.[20]
In the sanctuary of Aesculapius at Cos, for example, it was
forbidden to cut down the cypress-trees under a penalty of a
thousand drachms.[21] But nowhere, perhaps, in the ancient
world was this antique form of religion better preserved than
in the heart of the great metropolis itself. In the Forum,
the busy centre of Roman life, the sacred fig-tree of Romulus
was worshipped down to the days of the empire, and the
withering of its trunk was enough to spread consternation
through the city.[22] Again, on the slope of the Palatine Hill
grew a cornel-tree which was esteemed one of the most sacred
objects in Rome. Whenever the tree appeared to a passer-by
to be drooping, he set up a hue and cry which was
echoed by the people in the street, and soon a crowd might
be seen running helter-skelter from all sides with buckets of
water, as if (says Plutarch) they were hastening to put out
a fire.[23]
|Tree-worship among the Finnish-Ugrian peoples.|
Among the tribes of the Finnish-Ugrian stock in Europe
the heathen worship was performed for the most part in
sacred groves, which were always enclosed with a fence.
Such a grove often consisted merely of a glade or clearing
with a few trees dotted about, upon which in former times
the skins of the sacrificial victims were hung. The central
point of the grove, at least among the tribes of the Volga,
was the sacred tree, beside which everything else sank into
insignificance. Before it the worshippers assembled and the
priest offered his prayers, at its roots the victim was sacrificed,
and its boughs sometimes served as a pulpit. No
wood might be hewn and no branch broken in the grove,
and women were generally forbidden to enter it. The
11Ostyaks and Woguls, two peoples of the Finnish-Ugrian
stock in Siberia, had also sacred groves in which nothing
might be touched, and where the skins of the sacrificed
animals were suspended; but these groves were not enclosed
with fences.[24] Near Kuopio, in Finland, there was a famous
grove of ancient moss-grown firs, where the people offered
sacrifices and practised superstitious customs down to about
1650, when a sturdy veteran of the Thirty Years’ War
dared to cut it down at the bidding of the pastor. Sacred
groves now hardly exist in Finland, but sacred trees to
which offerings are brought are still not very uncommon.
On some firs the skulls of bears are nailed, apparently that
the hunter may have good luck in the chase.[25] The Ostyaks
are said never to have passed a sacred tree without shooting
an arrow at it as a mark of respect. In many places they hung
furs and skins on the holy trees in the forest; but having
observed that these furs were often appropriated and carried
off by unscrupulous travellers, they adopted the practice of
hewing the trunks into great blocks, which they decked with
their offerings and preserved in safe places. The custom
marks a transition from the worship of trees to the worship
of idols carved out of the sacred wood. Within their sacred
groves no grass or wood might be cut, no game hunted, no
fish caught, not even a draught of water drunk. When
they passed them in their canoes, they were careful not to
touch the land with the oar, and if the journey through the
hallowed ground was long, they laid in a store of water
before entering on it, for they would rather suffer extreme
thirst than slake it by drinking of the sacred stream. The
Ostyaks also regarded as holy any tree on which an eagle
had built its nest for several years, and they spared the bird
as well as the tree. No greater injury could be done them
than to shoot such an eagle or destroy its nest.[26]
|Trees are regarded by the savage as animate.|
But it is necessary to examine in some detail the notions
12on which the worship of trees and plants is based. To the
savage the world in general is animate, and trees and plants are
no exception to the rule. He thinks that they have souls like
his own, and he treats them accordingly. “They say,” writes
the ancient vegetarian Porphyry, “that primitive men led an
unhappy life, for their superstition did not stop at animals
but extended even to plants. For why should the slaughter
of an ox or a sheep be a greater wrong than the felling of a
fir or an oak, seeing that a soul is implanted in these trees
also?”[27] Similarly, the Hidatsa Indians of North America
believe that every natural object has its spirit, or to speak
more properly, its shade. To these shades some consideration
or respect is due, but not equally to all. For example,
the shade of the cottonwood, the greatest tree in the valley
of the Upper Missouri, is supposed to possess an intelligence
which, if properly approached, may help the Indians in
certain undertakings; but the shades of shrubs and grasses
are of little account. When the Missouri, swollen by a
freshet in spring, carries away part of its banks and sweeps
some tall tree into its current, it is said that the spirit of the
tree cries while the roots still cling to the land and until the
trunk falls with a splash into the stream. Formerly the
Indians considered it wrong to fell one of these giants, and
when large logs were needed they made use only of trees
which had fallen of themselves. Till lately some of the more
credulous old men declared that many of the misfortunes of
their people were caused by this modern disregard for the
rights of the living cottonwood.[28] The Iroquois believed
that each species of tree, shrub, plant, and herb had its own
spirit, and to these spirits it was their custom to return
thanks.[29] The Wanika of Eastern Africa fancy that every
tree, and especially every coco-nut tree, has its spirit;
“the destruction of a cocoa-nut tree is regarded as equivalent
to matricide, because that tree gives them life and nourishment,
as a mother does her child.”[30] In the Yasawu islands
13of Fiji a man will never eat a coco-nut without first asking
its leave—“May I eat you, my chief?”[31] Among the
Thompson Indians of British Columbia young people addressed
the following prayer to the sunflower root before
they ate the first roots of the season: “I inform thee that
I intend to eat thee. Mayest thou always help me to
ascend, so that I may always be able to reach the tops of
mountains, and may I never be clumsy! I ask this from
thee, Sunflower-Root. Thou art the greatest of all in
mystery.” To omit this prayer would have made the eater
of the root lazy, and caused him to sleep long in the morning.
We are not told, but may conjecture, that these
Indians ascribed to the sunflower the sun’s power of climbing
above the mountain-tops and of rising betimes in the
morning; hence whoever ate of the plant, with all the due
formalities, would naturally acquire the same useful properties.
It is not so easy to say why women had to observe
continence in cooking and digging the root, and why, when
they were cooking it, no man might come near the oven.[32]
The Dyaks ascribe souls to trees, and do not dare to cut
down an old tree. In some places, when an old tree has
been blown down, they set it up, smear it with blood, and
deck it with flags “to appease the soul of the tree.”[33]
Siamese monks, believing that there are souls everywhere,
and that to destroy anything whatever is forcibly to dispossess
a soul, will not break a branch of a tree, “as they
will not break the arm of an innocent person.”[34] These
monks, of course, are Buddhists. But Buddhist animism is
not a philosophical theory. It is simply a common savage
dogma incorporated in the system of an historical religion.
To suppose with Benfey and others that the theories of
animism and transmigration current among rude peoples of
Asia are derived from Buddhism, is to reverse the facts.
14Buddhism in this respect borrowed from savagery, not
savagery from Buddhism.[35] According to Chinese belief, the
spirits of plants are never shaped like plants but have
commonly the form either of human beings or of animals,
for example bulls and serpents. Occasionally at the felling
of a tree the tree-spirit has been seen to rush out in the
shape of a blue bull.[36] In China “to this day the belief
in tree-spirits dangerous to man is obviously strong. In
southern Fuhkien it deters people from felling any large
trees or chopping off heavy branches, for fear the indwelling
spirit may become irritated and visit the aggressor or his
neighbours with disease and calamity. Especially respected
are the green banyan or ch’îng, the biggest trees to be found
in that part of China. In Amoy some people even show a
strong aversion from planting trees, the planters, as soon as
the stems have become as thick as their necks, being sure to
be throttled by the indwelling spirits. No explanation of
this curious superstition was ever given us. It may account
to some extent for the almost total neglect of forestry in that
part of China, so that hardly any except spontaneous trees
grow there.”[37]
|Particular sorts of trees tenanted by spirits; sacrifices to tree-spirits.|
Sometimes it is only particular sorts of trees that are
supposed to be tenanted by spirits. At Grbalj in Dalmatia
it is said that among great beeches, oaks, and other trees
there are some that are endowed with shades or souls, and
whoever fells one of them must die on the spot, or at least
live an invalid for the rest of his days. If a woodman fears
that a tree which he has felled is one of this sort, he must
cut off the head of a live hen on the stump of the tree with
the very same axe with which he cut down the tree. This
will protect him from all harm, even if the tree be one of
the animated kind.[38] The silk-cotton trees, which rear their
|Silk-cotton trees in West Africa.|
enormous trunks to a stupendous height, far out-topping all
the other trees of the forest, are regarded with reverence
15throughout West Africa, from the Senegal to the Niger, and
are believed to be the abode of a god or spirit. Among the
Ewe-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast the indwelling god
of this giant of the forest goes by the name of Huntin.
Trees in which he specially dwells—for it is not every silk-cotton
tree that he thus honours—are surrounded by a
girdle of palm-leaves; and sacrifices of fowls, and occasionally
of human beings, are fastened to the trunk or laid
against the foot of the tree. A tree distinguished by a
girdle of palm-leaves may not be cut down or injured in
any way; and even silk-cotton trees which are not supposed
to be animated by Huntin may not be felled unless the
woodman first offers a sacrifice of fowls and palm-oil to
purge himself of the proposed sacrilege. To omit the
sacrifice is an offence which may be punished with death.[39]|Sycamores in ancient Egypt.|
Everywhere in Egypt on the borders of the cultivated land,
and even at some distance from the valley of the Nile, you
meet with fine sycamores standing solitary and thriving as
by a miracle in the sandy soil; their living green contrasts
strongly with the tawny hue of the surrounding landscape,
and their thick impenetrable foliage bids defiance even in
summer to the noonday sun. The secret of their verdure is
that their roots strike down into rills of water that trickle
by unseen sluices from the great river. Of old the Egyptians
of every rank esteemed these trees divine, and paid them
regular homage. They gave them figs, raisins, cucumbers,
vegetables, and water in earthenware pitchers, which charitable
folk filled afresh every day. Passers-by slaked their
thirst at these pitchers in the sultry hours, and paid for the
welcome draught by a short prayer. The spirit that animated
these beautiful trees generally lurked unseen, but
sometimes he would shew his head or even his whole body
outside the trunk, but only to retire into it again.[40] People
in Congo set calabashes of palm-wine at the foot of certain
trees for the trees to drink when they are thirsty.[41] The
16|Sacred trees in Africa, Syria, and Patagonia.|
Wanika of Eastern Africa pay special honour to the spirits
of coco-nut palms in return for the many benefits conferred
on them by the trees. To cut down a coco-nut palm is an
inexpiable offence, equivalent to matricide. They sacrifice
to the tree on many occasions. When a man in gathering
the coco-nuts has fallen from the palm, they attribute it to
the wrath of the tree-spirit, and resort to the oddest means
of appeasing him.[42] The Masai particularly reverence the
subugo tree, the bark of which has medical properties, and a
species of parasitic fig which they call retete. The green figs
are eaten by boys and girls, and older people propitiate
the tree by pouring the blood of a goat at the foot of the
trunk and strewing grass on the branches.[43] The natives of
the Bissagos Islands, off the west coast of Africa, sacrifice
dogs, cocks, and oxen to their sacred trees, but they eat
the flesh of the victims and leave only the horns, fastened to
the trees, for the spirits.[44] In a Turkish village of Northern
Syria there is a very old oak-tree which the people worship,
burning incense to it and bringing offerings as they would to
a shrine.[45] In Patagonia, between the Rio Negro and the
Rio Colorado, there stands solitary an ancient acacia-tree
with a gnarled and hollow trunk. The Indians revere it as
the abode of a spirit, and hang offerings of blankets, ponchos,
ribbons, and coloured threads on it, so that the tree presents
the aspect of an old clothes’ shop, the tattered, weather-worn
garments drooping sadly from the boughs. No Indian
passes it without leaving something, if it be only a little
horse-hair which he ties to a branch. The hollow trunk
contains offerings of tobacco, beads, and sometimes coins.
But the best evidence of the sanctity of the tree are the
bleached skeletons of many horses which have been killed in
honour of the spirit; for the horse is the most precious
sacrifice that these Indians can offer. They slaughter the
animal also to propitiate the spirits of the deep and rapid
17|Sacrifices to trees.|
rivers which they have often to ford or swim.[46] The Kayans
of Central Borneo ascribe souls to the trees which yield the
poison they use to envenom their arrows. They think that
the spirit of the tasem tree (Antiaris toxicaria) is particularly
hard to please; but if the wood has a strong and agreeable
scent, they know that the man who felled the tree must have
contrived by his offerings to mollify the peevish spirit.[47] In
some of the Louisiade Islands there are certain large trees
under which the natives hold their feasts. These trees seem
to be regarded as endowed with souls; for a portion of the
feast is set aside for them, and the bones of pigs and of
human beings are everywhere deeply imbedded in their
branches.[48] Among the Kangra mountains of the Punjaub a
girl used to be annually sacrificed to an old cedar-tree, the
families of the village taking it in turn to supply the victim.
The tree was cut down not very many years ago.[49] On
Christmas Eve it is still customary in some parts of Germany
to gird fruit-trees with ropes of straw on which the sausages
prepared for the festival have lain. This is supposed to
make the trees bear fruit. In the Mark of Brandenburg the
person who ties the straw round the trees says, “Little tree,
I make you a present, and you will make me one.” The
people say that if the trees receive gifts, they will bestow
gifts in return. The custom, which is clearly a relic of tree-worship,
is often observed on New Year’s night or at any
time between Christmas and Twelfth Night.[50]
18|Trees supposed to be sensitive and to feel wounds.|
If trees are animate, they are necessarily sensitive and
the cutting of them down becomes a delicate surgical operation,
which must be performed with as tender a regard as
possible for the feelings of the sufferers, who otherwise may
turn and rend the careless or bungling operator. When an
oak is being felled “it gives a kind of shriekes or groanes,
that may be heard a mile off, as if it were the genius of the
oake lamenting. E. Wyld, Esq., hath heard it severall
times.”[51] The Ojebways “very seldom cut down green or
living trees, from the idea that it puts them to pain, and
some of their medicine-men profess to have heard the
wailing of the trees under the axe.”[52] Trees that bleed and
utter cries of pain or indignation when they are hacked or
burned occur very often in Chinese books, even in Standard
Histories.[53] Old peasants in some parts of Austria still
believe that forest-trees are animate, and will not allow an
incision to be made in the bark without special cause; they
have heard from their fathers that the tree feels the cut not
|Apologies offered to trees for cutting them down.|
less than a wounded man his hurt. In felling a tree they
beg its pardon.[54] It is said that in the Upper Palatinate also
old woodmen still secretly ask a fine, sound tree to forgive
them before they cut it down.[55] So in Jarkino the woodman
craves pardon of the tree he fells.[56] Before the Ilocanes of
Luzon cut down trees in the virgin forest or on the mountains,
they recite some verses to the following effect: “Be not uneasy,
my friend, though we fell what we have been ordered to fell.”
This they do in order not to draw down on themselves the
hatred of the spirits who live in the trees, and who are apt
to avenge themselves by visiting with grievous sickness such
as injure them wantonly.[57] When the Tagalogs of the
19Philippines wish to pluck a flower, they ask leave of the
genius (nono) of the flower to do so; when they are
obliged to cut down a tree they beg pardon of the
genius of the tree and excuse themselves by saying that
it was the priest who bade them fell it.[58] Among the
Tigre-speaking tribes in the north of Abyssinia people
are afraid to fell a green and fruit-bearing tree lest they
incur the curse of God, which is heard in the groaning of
the tree as it sinks to the ground. But if a man is bold
enough to cut down such a tree, he will say to it, “Thy
curse abide in thee,” or he will allege that it was not he but
an elephant or a rhinoceros that knocked it down.[59] Amongst
the Hos of Togoland, in West Africa, when a man wishes to
make palm-wine he hires woodmen to fell the trees. They
go into the palm-wood, set some meal on the ground and
say to the wood, “That is your food. The old man at home
sent us to cut you down. We are still children who know
nothing at all. The old man at home has sent us.” They
say this because they think that the wood is a spirit and
that it is angry with them.[60] Before a Karo Batak cuts
down a tree, he will offer it betel and apologies; and if in
passing the place afterwards he should see the tree weeping
or, as we should say, exuding sap, he hastens to console it
by sprinkling the blood of a fowl on the stump.[61] The
Basoga of Central Africa think that when a tree is cut down
the angry spirit which inhabits it may cause the death of the
chief and his family. To prevent this disaster they consult
a medicine-man before they fell a tree. If the man of skill
gives leave to proceed, the woodman first offers a fowl and a
goat to the tree; then as soon as he has given the first blow
with the axe, he applies his mouth to the cut and sucks some
of the sap. In this way he forms a brotherhood with the
tree, just as two men become blood-brothers by sucking each
20other’s blood. After that he can cut down his tree-brother
with impunity.[62] An ancient Indian ritual directs that
in preparing to fell a tree the woodman should lay a
stalk of grass on the spot where the blow is to fall, with the
words, “O plant, shield it!” and that he should say to the
axe, “O axe, hurt it not!” When the tree had fallen, he
poured melted butter on the stump, saying, “Grow thou out
of this, O lord of the forest, grow with a hundred shoots!
May we grow with a thousand shoots!” Then he anointed
the severed stem and wound a rope of grass round it.[63]
|Bleeding trees.|
Again, when a tree or plant is cut it is sometimes thought
to bleed. Some Indians dare not cut a certain plant,
because there comes out a red juice which they take for the
blood of the plant.[64] In Samoa there was a grove of trees
which no one dared hew down. Once some strangers tried
to do so, but blood flowed from the tree, and the sacrilegious
strangers fell ill and died.[65] Down to 1859 there stood a
sacred larch-tree at Nauders in the Tyrol which was thought
to bleed whenever it was cut; moreover people fancied that
the steel pierced the woodman’s body to the same depth
that it pierced the tree, and that the wound on his body
would not heal until the bark closed over the scar on the
trunk. So sacred was the tree that no one would gather
fuel or cut timber near it; and to curse, scold, or quarrel in
its neighbourhood was regarded as a crying sin which would
be supernaturally punished on the spot. Angry disputants
were often hushed with the warning whisper, “Don’t, the
sacred tree is here.”[66]
|Trees threatened in order to make them bear fruit.|
But the spirits of vegetation are not always treated with
deference and respect. If fair words and kind treatment do
not move them, stronger measures are sometimes resorted
to. The durian-tree of the East Indies, whose smooth stem
21often shoots up to a height of eighty or ninety feet without
sending out a branch, bears a fruit of the most delicious
flavour and the most disgusting stench. The Malays cultivate
the tree for the sake of its fruit, and have been known
to resort to a peculiar ceremony for the purpose of stimulating
its fertility. Near Jugra in Selangor there is a small
grove of durian-trees, and on a specially chosen day the
villagers used to assemble in it. Thereupon one of the
local sorcerers would take a hatchet and deliver several
shrewd blows on the trunk of the most barren of the
trees, saying, “Will you now bear fruit or not? If you do
not, I shall fell you.” To this the tree replied through the
mouth of another man who had climbed a mangostin-tree
hard by (the durian-tree being unclimbable), “Yes, I will
now bear fruit; I beg you not to fell me.”[67] So in Japan to
make trees bear fruit two men go into an orchard. One of
them climbs up a tree and the other stands at the foot with
an axe. The man with the axe asks the tree whether it will
yield a good crop next year and threatens to cut it down
if it does not. To this the man among the branches replies
on behalf of the tree that it will bear abundantly.[68] Odd as this
mode of horticulture may seem to us, it has its exact parallels
in Europe. On Christmas Eve many a South Slavonian and
Bulgarian peasant swings an axe threateningly against a
barren fruit-tree, while another man standing by intercedes
for the menaced tree, saying, “Do not cut it down; it will soon
bear fruit.” Thrice the axe is swung, and thrice the impending
blow is arrested at the entreaty of the intercessor. After
that the frightened tree will certainly bear fruit next year.[69]
So at the village of Ucria in Sicily, if a tree obstinately
refuses to bear fruit, the owner pretends to hew it down.
Just as the axe is about to fall, a friend intercedes for the
tree, begging him to have patience for one year more, and
promising not to interfere again if the culprit has not mended
22his ways by then. The owner grants his request, and the
Sicilians say that a tree seldom remains deaf to such a
menace. The ceremony is performed on Easter Saturday.[70]
In Armenia the same pantomime is sometimes performed by
two men for the same purpose on Good Friday.[71] In the
Abruzzi the ceremony takes place before sunrise on the
morning of St. John’s Day (Midsummer Day). The owner
threatens the trees which are slow to bear fruit. Thrice he
walks round each sluggard repeating his threat and striking
the trunk with the head of an axe.[72] In Lesbos, when
an orange-tree or a lemon-tree does not bear fruit, the
owner will sometimes set a looking-glass before the tree;
then standing with an axe in his hand over against the tree
and gazing at its reflection in the glass he will feign to fall
into a passion and will say aloud, “Bear fruit, or I’ll cut you
down.”[73] When cabbages merely curl their leaves instead of
forming heads as they ought to do, an Esthonian peasant
will go out into the garden before sunrise, clad only in his
shirt, and armed with a scythe, which he sweeps over the
refractory vegetables as if he meant to cut them down.
This intimidates the cabbages and brings them to a sense of
their duty.[74]
|Attempts to deceive the spirits of trees and plants.|
If European peasants thus know how to work on the
fears of cabbages and fruit-trees, the subtle Malay has learned
how to overreach the simple souls of the plants and trees
that grow in his native land. Thus, when a bunch of fruit
hangs from an aren palm-tree, and in reaching after it you
tread on some of the fallen fruit, the Galelareese say that
you ought to grunt like a wild boar in order that your feet
may not itch. The chain of reasoning seems weak to a
European mind, but the natives find no flaw in it. They
23have observed that wild boars are fond of the fruit, and run
freely about among it as it lies on the ground. From this
they infer that the animal’s feet are proof against the itch
which men suffer through treading on the fruit; and hence
they conclude that if, by grunting in a natural and life-like
manner, you can impress the fruit with the belief that you
are a pig, it will treat your feet as tenderly as the feet of
his friends the real pigs.[75] Again, pregnant women in Java
sometimes take a fancy to eat the wild species of a
particular plant (Colocasia antiquorum), which, on account
of its exceedingly pungent taste, is not commonly used as
food by human beings, though it is relished by pigs. In
such a case it becomes the husband’s duty to go and look
for the plant, but before he gathers it he takes care to grunt
loudly, in order that the plant may take him for a pig, and
so mitigate the pungency of its flavour.[76] Again, in the
Madiun district of Java there grows a plant of which the
fruit is believed to be injurious for men, but not for apes.
The urchins who herd buffaloes, and to whom nothing edible
comes amiss, eat this fruit also; but before plucking it they
take the precaution of mimicking the voices of apes, in
order to persuade the plant that its fruit is destined for the
maw of these creatures.[77] Once more, the Javanese scrape
the rind of a certain plant (Sarcolobus narcoticus) into a
powder, with which they poison such dangerous beasts as
tigers and wild boars. But the rind is believed not to be a
poison for men. Hence the person who gathers the plant
has to observe certain precautions in order that its baneful
quality may not be lost in passing through his hands. He
approaches it naked and creeping on all fours to make the
plant think that he is a ravenous beast and not a man, and
to strengthen the illusion he bites the stalk. After that the
deadly property of the rind is assured. But even when the
plant has been gathered and the powder made from it in
strict accordance with certain superstitious rules, care is still
24needed in handling the powder, which is regarded as alive
and intelligent. It may not be brought near a corpse, nor
may a corpse be carried past the house in which the
powder is kept. For if either of these things were to
happen, the powder, seeing the corpse, would hastily conclude
that it had already done its work, and so all its
noxious quality would be gone.[78] The Indians of the Upper
Orinoco extract a favourite beverage from certain palm-trees
which grow in their forests. In order to make the
trees bear abundance of fruit the medicine-men blow sacred
trumpets under them; but how this is supposed to produce
the desired effect does not appear. The trumpets (botutos)
are objects of religious veneration; no woman may look on
them under pain of death. Candidates for initiation into the
mystery of the trumpets must be men of good character and
celibate. The initiated members scourge each other, fast,
and practise other austerities.[79]
|Trees married to each other.|
The conception of trees and plants as animated beings
naturally results in treating them as male and female, who
can be married to each other in a real, and not merely a
figurative or poetical sense of the word. The notion is not
purely fanciful, for plants like animals have their sexes and
reproduce their kind by the union of the male and female
elements. But whereas in all the higher animals the organs
of the two sexes are regularly separated between different
individuals, in most plants they exist together in every
individual of the species. This rule, however, is by no
means universal, and in many species the male plant is
distinct from the female. The distinction appears to have
been observed by some savages, for we are told that the
Maoris “are acquainted with the sex of trees, etc., and have
distinct names for the male and female of some trees.”[80] The
|Artificial fertilisation of the date-palm.|
ancients knew the difference between the male and the
female date-palm, and fertilised them artificially by shaking
the pollen of the male tree over the flowers of the female.[81]25The fertilisation took place in spring. Among the heathen
of Harran the month during which the palms were fertilised
bore the name of the Date Month, and at this time they
celebrated the marriage festival of all the gods and goddesses.[82]
Different from this true and fruitful marriage of the palm are
the false and barren marriages of plants which play a part
|Marriages of trees in India.|
in Hindoo superstition. For example, if a Hindoo has
planted a grove of mangos, neither he nor his wife may taste
of the fruit until he has formally married one of the trees, as
a bridegroom, to a tree of a different sort, commonly a
tamarind-tree, which grows near it in the grove. If there is
no tamarind to act as bride, a jasmine will serve the turn.
The expenses of such a marriage are often considerable, for
the more Brahmans are feasted at it, the greater the glory
of the owner of the grove. A family has been known to sell
its golden and silver trinkets, and to borrow all the money
they could in order to marry a mango-tree to a jasmine with
due pomp and ceremony.[83] According to another account of
the ceremony, a branch of a bar tree is brought and fixed
near one of the mango trees in the grove to represent the bar
or bridegroom, and both are wrapt round with the same piece
of cloth by the owner of the grove and his wife. To complete
the ceremony a bamboo basket containing the bride’s
belongings and dowry on a miniature scale is provided; and
after the Brahman priest has done his part, vermilion,
the emblem of a completed marriage, is applied to the
mango as to a bride.[84] Another plant which figures as
26|Marriage of the holy basil.|
a bride in Hindoo rites is the tulasi or Holy Basil (Ocymum
sanctum). It is a small shrub, not too big to be grown in a
large flower-pot, and is often placed in rooms; indeed there
is hardly a respectable Hindoo family that does not possess
one. In spite of its humble appearance, the shrub is pervaded
by the essence of Vishnu and his wife Lakshmi, and
is itself worshipped daily as a deity. The following prayer
is often addressed to it: “I adore that tulasi in whose roots
are all the sacred places of pilgrimage, in whose centre are
all the deities, and in whose upper branches are all the
Vedas.” The plant is especially a woman’s divinity, being
regarded as an embodiment of Vishnu’s wife Lakshmi, or of
Rama’s wife Sita, or of Krishna’s wife Rukmini. Women
worship it by walking round it and praying or offering
flowers and rice to it. Now this sacred plant, as the
embodiment of a goddess, is annually married to the god
Krishna in every Hindoo family. The ceremony takes place
in the month Karttika or November. In Western India
they often bring an idol of the youthful Krishna in a gorgeous
palanquin, followed by a long train of attendants, to the
house of a rich man to be wedded to the basil; and the
festivities are celebrated with great pomp.[85] Again, as the
wife of Vishnu, the holy basil is married to the Salagrama,
a black fossil ammonite which is regarded as an embodiment
of Vishnu. In North-Western India this marriage of the
plant to the fossil has to be performed before it is lawful to
taste of the fruit of a new orchard. A man holding the
fossil personates the bridegroom, and another holding the
basil represents the bride. After burning a sacrificial fire,
the officiating Brahman puts the usual questions to the
couple about to be united. Bride and bridegroom walk six
times round a small spot marked out in the centre of the
orchard.[86] Further, no well is considered lucky until the
27Salagrama has been solemnly wedded to the holy basil,
which stands for the garden that the well is intended to
water. The relations assemble; the owner of the garden
represents the bridegroom, while a kinsman of his wife
personates the bride. Gifts are given to the Brahmans, a
feast is held in the garden, and after that both garden and
well may be used without danger.[87] The same marriage of
the sacred fossil to the sacred plant is celebrated annually by
the Rajah of Orchha at Ludhaura. A former Rajah used to
spend a sum equal to about thirty thousand pounds, being
one-fourth of his revenue, upon the ceremony. On one
occasion over a hundred thousand people are said to have
been present at the rite, and to have been feasted at the
expense of the Rajah. The procession consisted of eight
elephants, twelve hundred camels, and four thousand horses,
all mounted and elegantly caparisoned. The most sumptuously
decorated of the elephants carried the fossil god to
pay his bridal visit to the little shrub goddess. On such an
occasion all the rites of a regular marriage are performed,
and afterwards the newly-wedded couple are left to repose
together in the temple till the next year.[88] On Christmas
28Eve German peasants used to tie fruit-trees together with
straw ropes to make them bear fruit, saying that the trees
were thus married.[89]
|Trees in blossom and rice in bloom treated like pregnant women.|
In the Moluccas, when the clove-trees are in blossom,
they are treated like pregnant women. No noise may be
made near them; no light or fire may be carried past
them at night; no one may approach them with his hat on,
all must uncover in their presence. These precautions are
observed lest the tree should be alarmed and bear no fruit,
or should drop its fruit too soon, like the untimely delivery
of a woman who has been frightened in her pregnancy.[90] So
in the East the growing rice-crop is often treated with the
same considerate regard as a breeding woman. Thus
in Amboyna, when the rice is in bloom, the people say
that it is pregnant and fire no guns and make no other
noises near the field, for fear lest, if the rice were thus
disturbed, it would miscarry, and the crop would be all straw
and no grain.[91] The Javanese also regard the bloom on the
rice as a sign that the plant is pregnant; and they treat it
accordingly, by mingling in the water that irrigates the fields
a certain astringent food prepared from sour fruit, which is
believed to be wholesome for women with child.[92] In some
districts of Western Borneo there must be no talk of corpses
or demons in the fields, else the spirit of the growing rice would
be frightened and flee away to Java.[93] The Toboongkoos of
Central Celebes will not fire a gun in a ricefield, lest the rice
should be frightened away.[94] The Chams of Binh-Thuan, in
Cochin-China, do not dare to touch the rice in the granary at
29mid-day, because the rice is then asleep, and it would be both
rude and dangerous to disturb its noonday slumber.[95] In
Orissa growing rice is “considered as a pregnant woman,
and the same ceremonies are observed with regard to it as in
the case of human females.”[96] In Poso, a district of Central
Celebes, when the rice-ears are beginning to form, women go
through the field feeding the young ears with soft-boiled rice
to make them grow fast. They carry the food in calabashes,
and grasping the ears in their hands bend them over into
the vessels that they may partake of the strengthening pap.
The reason for boiling the rice soft is that the ears are
regarded as young children who could not digest rice cooked
in the usual way.[97] The Tomori of Central Celebes feed the
ripening rice by touching it with the contents of a broken
egg.[98] When the grain begins to form, the people of Gayo,
a district of northern Sumatra, regard the rice as pregnant
and feed it with a pap composed of rice-meal, coco-nut,
and treacle, which they deposit on leaves in the middle
and at the corners of the field. And when the crop is
plentiful and the rice has been threshed, they give it water
to drink in a pitcher, which they bury to the neck in the
heap of grain.[99]
|Trees supposed to be tenanted by the souls of the dead.|
Sometimes it is the souls of the dead which are believed
to animate trees. The Dieri tribe of South Australia regard
as very sacred certain trees which are supposed to be
their fathers transformed; hence they speak with reverence
of these trees, and are careful that they shall not be cut down
or burned. If the settlers require them to hew down the
trees, they earnestly protest against it, asserting that were they
to do so they would have no luck, and might be punished for
not protecting their ancestors.[100] Some of the Philippine
Islanders believe that the souls of their ancestors are in
30certain trees, which they therefore spare. If they are obliged
to fell one of these trees, they excuse themselves to it by
saying that it was the priest who made them do it. The
spirits take up their abode, by preference, in tall and stately
trees with great spreading branches. When the wind rustles
the leaves, the natives fancy it is the voice of the spirit; and
they never pass near one of these trees without bowing
respectfully, and asking pardon of the spirit for disturbing
his repose. Among the Ignorrotes, in the district of Lepanto,
every village has its sacred tree, in which the souls
of the dead forefathers of the hamlet reside. Offerings are
made to the tree, and any injury done to it is believed to
entail some misfortune on the village. Were the tree cut
down, the village and all its inhabitants would inevitably
perish.[101] The natives of Bontoc, a province in the north of
Luzon, cut down the woods near their villages, but leave a
few fine trees standing as the abode of the spirits of their
ancestors (anitos); and they honour the spirits by depositing
food under the trees.[102] The Dyaks believe that when a man
dies by accident, as by drowning, it is a sign that the gods
mean to exclude him from the realms of bliss. Accordingly
his body is not buried, but carried into the forest and there
laid down. The souls of such unfortunates pass into trees
or animals or fish, and are much dreaded by the Dyaks, who
abstain from using certain kinds of wood, or eating certain
sorts of fish, because they are supposed to contain the souls
of the dead.[103] Once, while walking with a Dyak through the
jungle, Sir Hugh Low observed that his companion, after
raising his sword to strike a great snake, suddenly arrested
his arm and suffered the reptile to escape. On asking the
reason, he was told by the Dyak that the bush in front of
which they were standing had been a man, a kinsman of his
31own, who, dying some ten years before, had appeared in a
dream to his widow and told her that he had become that
particular bamboo-tree. Hence the ground and everything
on it was sacred, and the serpent might not be interfered
with. The Dyak further related that in spite of the
warning given to the woman in the vision, a man had
been hardy enough to cut a branch of the tree, but that
the fool had paid for his temerity with his life, for he
died soon afterwards. A little bamboo altar stood in front
of the bush, on which the remnants of offerings presented to
the spirit of the tree were still visible when Sir Hugh Low
passed that way.[104]
In Corea the souls of people who die of the plague
or by the roadside, and of women who expire in childbed,
invariably take up their abode in trees. To such spirits
offerings of cake, wine, and pork are made on heaps of
stones piled under the trees.[105] In China it has been
customary from time immemorial to plant trees on graves
in order thereby to strengthen the soul of the deceased and
thus to save his body from corruption; and as the evergreen
cypress and pine are deemed to be fuller of vitality
than other trees, they have been chosen by preference for
this purpose. Hence the trees that grow on graves are sometimes
identified with the souls of the departed.[106] Among
the Miao-Kia, an aboriginal race of Southern and Western
China, a sacred tree stands at the entrance of every village,
and the inhabitants believe that it is tenanted by the soul of
their first ancestor and that it rules their destiny. Sometimes
there is a sacred grove near a village, where the trees
are suffered to rot and die on the spot. Their fallen branches
cumber the ground, and no one may remove them unless he
has first asked leave of the spirit of the tree and offered him
a sacrifice.[107] Among the Maraves of Southern Africa the
burial-ground is always regarded as a holy place where
neither a tree may be felled nor a beast killed, because
everything there is supposed to be tenanted by the souls of
32the dead.[108] Trees supposed to be inhabited by spirits of the
dead are reported to be common in Southern Nigeria.[109]
Thus in the Indem tribe on the Cross River every village
has a big tree into which the souls of the villagers are
believed to pass at death. Hence they will not allow these
trees to be cut, and they sacrifice to them when people are
ill.[110] Other natives of the Cross River say that the big tree
of the village is “their Life,” and that anybody who breaks
a bough of it will fall sick or die unless he pays a fine to
the chief.[111] Some of the mountaineers on the north-west
coast of New Guinea think that the spirits of their ancestors
live on the branches of trees, on which accordingly they hang
rags of red or white cotton, always in the number of seven
or a multiple of seven; also, they place food on the trees or
hang it in baskets from the boughs.[112] Among the Buryats of
Siberia the bones of a deceased shaman are deposited in a
hole hewn in the trunk of a great fir, which is then carefully
closed up. Thenceforth the tree goes by the name of the
shaman’s fir, and is looked upon as his abode. Whoever
cuts down such a tree will perish with all his household.
Every tribe has its sacred grove of firs in which the bones of
the dead shamans are buried. In treeless regions these firs
often form isolated clumps on the hills, and are visible from
afar.[113] The Lkungen Indians of British Columbia fancy that
trees are transformed men, and that the creaking of the
branches in the wind is their voice.[114] In Croatia, they say
that witches used to be buried under old trees in the forest,
and that their souls passed into the trees and left the
villagers in peace.[115] A tree that grows on a grave is regarded
by the South Slavonian peasant as a sort of fetish.
33Whoever breaks a twig from it hurts the soul of the dead,
but gains thereby a magic wand, since the soul embodied in
the twig will be at his service.[116] This reminds us of the story
of Polydorus in Virgil,[117] and of the bleeding pomegranate
that grew on the grave of the fratricides Eteocles and
Polynices at Thebes[118]. Similar stories are told far away from
the classic lands of Italy and Greece. In an Annamite tale
an old fisherman makes an incision in the trunk of a tree
which has drifted ashore; but blood flows from the cut, and
it appears that an empress with her three daughters, who
had been cast into the sea, are embodied in the tree.[119] On
the Slave Coast of West Africa the negroes tell how from
the mouldering bones of a little boy, who had been murdered
by his brother in the forest, there sprang up an edible fungus,
which spoke and revealed the crime to the child’s mother
when she attempted to pluck it.[120]
|Trees sometimes conceived not as the body but merely as the abode of spirits.|
In most, if not all, of these cases the spirit is viewed as
incorporate in the tree; it animates the tree and must suffer
and die with it. But, according to another and probably
later opinion, the tree is not the body, but merely the abode
of the tree-spirit, which can quit it and return to it at
pleasure. The inhabitants of Siaoo, an island of the Sangi
group in the East Indies, believe in certain sylvan spirits
who dwell in forests or in great solitary trees. At full
moon the spirit comes forth from his lurking-place and
roams about. He has a big head, very long arms and legs,
and a ponderous body. In order to propitiate the wood-spirits
people bring offerings of food, fowls, goats, and so
forth to the places which they are supposed to haunt.[121] The
people of Nias think that, when a tree dies, its liberated
spirit becomes a demon, which can kill a coco-nut palm by
merely lighting on its branches, and can cause the death of
all the children in a house by perching on one of the posts
that support it. Further, they are of opinion that certain
34trees are at all times inhabited by roving demons who, if
the trees were damaged, would be set free to go about on
errands of mischief. Hence the people respect these trees,
and are careful not to cut them down.[122] On the Tanga coast
of East Africa mischievous sprites reside in great trees,
especially in the fantastically shaped baobabs. Sometimes
they appear in the shape of ugly black beings, but as a rule
they enter unseen into people’s bodies, from which, after
causing much sickness and misery, they have to be cast out
by the sorcerer.[123] The Warramunga tribe of Central Australia
believe that certain trees are the abode of disembodied
human spirits waiting to be born again. No woman will
strike one of these trees with an axe, lest the blow might
disturb one of the spirits, who might come forth from the
tree and enter her body.[124] In the Galla region of East Africa,
where the vegetation is magnificent, there are many sacred
trees, the haunts of jinn. Most of them belong to the
sycamore and maple family, but they do not all exhale an
equal odour of sanctity. The watêsa, with its edible fruit,
is least revered; people climb it to get the fruit, and this
disturbs the jinn, who naturally do not care to linger among
its boughs. The gute tubi, which has no edible fruit, is more
sacred. Every Galla tribe has its sacred tree, which is
always one individual of a particular species called lafto.
When a tree has been consecrated by a priest it becomes
holy, and no branch of it may be broken. Such trees are
loaded with long threads, woollen bands, and bracelets; the
blood of animals is poured on their roots and sometimes
smeared on their trunks, and pots full of butter, milk, and
flesh are placed among the branches or on the ground under
them. In many Galla tribes women may not tread on the
shadow of sacred trees or even approach the trees.[125]
|Ceremonies at felling trees.|
Not a few ceremonies observed at cutting down haunted
trees are based on the belief that the spirits have it in their
35power to quit the trees at pleasure or in case of need. Thus
when the Pelew Islanders are felling a tree, they conjure the
spirit of the tree to leave it and settle on another.[126] The wily
negro of the Slave Coast, who wishes to fell an ashorin tree,
but knows that he cannot do it so long as the spirit remains
in the tree, places a little palm-oil on the ground as a bait,
and then, when the unsuspecting spirit has quitted the tree
to partake of this dainty, hastens to cut down its late abode.[127]
The Alfoors of Poso, in Central Celebes, believe that great
trees are inhabited by demons in human form, and the taller
the tree the more powerful the demon. Accordingly they
are careful not to fell such trees, and they leave offerings at
the foot of them for the spirits. But sometimes, when they
are clearing land for cultivation, it becomes necessary to cut
down the trees which cumber it. In that case the Alfoor
will call to the demon of the tree and beseech him to leave
his abode and go elsewhere, and he deposits food under the
tree as provision for the spirit on his journey. Then, and
not till then, he may fell the tree. Woe to the luckless
wight who should turn a tree-spirit out of his house without
giving him due notice![128] When the Toboongkoos of Central
Celebes are about to clear a piece of forest in order to plant
rice, they build a tiny house and furnish it with tiny clothes
and some food and gold. Then they call together all the
spirits of the wood, offer them the little house with its contents,
and beseech them to quit the spot. After that they
may safely cut down the wood without fearing to wound
themselves in so doing.[129] Before the Tomori of Central
Celebes fell a tall tree they lay a quid of betel at its foot,
and invite the spirit who dwells in the tree to change his
lodging; moreover, they set a little ladder against the
trunk to enable him to descend with safety and comfort.[130]36The Sundanese of the Eastern Archipelago drive golden or
silver nails into the trunk of a sacred tree for the sake of
expelling the tree-spirit before they hew down his abode.[131]
They seem to think that, though the nails will hurt him, his
vanity will be soothed by the reflection that they are of
gold or silver. In Rotti, an island to the south of Timor,
when they fell a tree to make a coffin, they sacrifice a dog
as compensation to the tree-spirit whose property they are
thus making free with.[132] Before the Gayos of Northern
Sumatra clear a piece of forest for the purpose of planting
tobacco or sugar-cane, they offer a quid of betel to the spirit
whom they call the Lord of the Wood, and beg his leave to
quarter themselves on his domain.[133] The Mandelings of
Sumatra endeavour to lay the blame of all such misdeeds at
the door of the Dutch authorities. Thus when a man is
cutting a road through a forest and has to fell a tall tree
which blocks the way, he will not begin to ply his axe until
he has said: “Spirit who lodgest in this tree, take it not ill
that I cut down thy dwelling, for it is done at no wish of
mine but by order of the Controller.” And when he wishes
to clear a piece of forest-land for cultivation, it is necessary
that he should come to a satisfactory understanding with
the woodland spirits who live there before he lays low their
leafy dwellings. For this purpose he goes to the middle of
the plot of ground, stoops down, and pretends to pick up a
letter. Then unfolding a bit of paper he reads aloud an
imaginary letter from the Dutch Government, in which he
is strictly enjoined to set about clearing the land without
delay. Having done so, he says: “You hear that, spirits.
I must begin clearing at once, or I shall be hanged.”[134]
When the Tagales of the Philippines are about to fell a
tree which they believe to be inhabited by a spirit, they
excuse themselves to the spirit, saying: “The priest has
37ordered us to do it; the fault is not ours, nor the will
either.”[135] There is a certain tree called rara which the
Dyaks believe to be inhabited by a spirit. Before they cut
down one of these trees they strike an axe into the trunk,
leave it there, and call upon the spirit either to quit his
dwelling or to give them a sign that he does not wish it to
be meddled with. Then they go home. Next day they
visit the tree, and if they find the axe still sticking in the
trunk, they can fell the tree without danger; there is no
spirit in it, or he would certainly have ejected the axe from
his abode. But if they find the axe lying on the ground,
they know that the tree is inhabited and they will not fell
it; for it must surely have been the spirit of the tree in
person who expelled the intrusive axe. Some sceptical
Europeans, however, argue that what casts out the axe is
strychnine in the sap rather than the tree-spirit. They say
that if the sap is running, the axe must necessarily be forced
out by the action of heat and the expansion of the exuding
gutta; whereas if the axe remains in the trunk, this only
shews that the tree is not vigorous but ready to die.[136]
Before they cut down a great tree, the Indians in the
neighbourhood of Santiago Tepehuacan hold a festival in
order to appease the tree and so prevent it from hurting
anybody in its fall.[137] In the Greek island of Siphnos, if
woodmen have to fell a tree which they regard as possessed
by a spirit, they are most careful, when it falls, to prostrate
themselves humbly and in silence lest the spirit should
chastise them as it escapes. Sometimes they put a stone on
the stump of the tree to prevent the egress of the spirit.[138]
In some parts of Sumatra, so soon as a tree is felled, a young
tree is planted on the stump, and some betel and a few
small coins are also placed on it.[139] The purpose of the
38ceremony seems plain. The spirit of the tree is offered a
new home in the young tree planted on the stump of the
old one, and the offering of betel and money is meant
to compensate him for the disturbance he has suffered.
Similarly, when the Maghs of Bengal were obliged by Europeans
to cut down trees which the natives believed to be
tenanted by spirits, one of them was always ready with a
green sprig, which he ran and placed in the middle of the
stump when the tree fell, “as a propitiation to the spirit
which had been displaced so roughly, pleading at the same
time the orders of the strangers for the work.”[140] In Halmahera,
however, the motive for placing a sprig on the stump is
said to be to deceive the spirit into thinking that the fallen
stem is still growing in its old place.[141] The Gilyaks insert
a stick with curled shavings on the stump of the tree which
they have felled, believing that in this way they give back to the
dispossessed tree-spirit his life and soul.[142] German woodmen
make a cross upon the stump while the tree is falling, in the
belief that this enables the spirit of the tree to live upon the
stump.[143] Before the Katodis fell a forest tree, they choose a
tree of the same kind and worship it by presenting a coco-nut,
burning incense, applying a red pigment, and begging it
to bless the undertaking.[144] The intention, perhaps, is to induce
the spirit of the former tree to shift its quarters to the latter.
In clearing a wood, a Galelareese must not cut down the last
tree till the spirit in it has been induced to go away.[145] When
the Dyaks fell the jungle on the hills, they often leave a few
trees standing on the hill-tops as a refuge for the dispossessed
tree-spirits.[146] Sailing up the Baram river in Sarawak you
pass from time to time a clearing in the forest where manioc
is cultivated. In the middle of every one of these clearings
a solitary tree is always left standing as a home for the
39ejected spirits of the wood. Its boughs are stripped off, all
but the topmost, and just under its leafy crown two cross-pieces
are fastened from which rags dangle.[147] Similarly in
India, the Gonds allow a grove of typical trees to remain as
a home or reserve for the woodland spirits when they are
clearing away a jungle.[148] The Mundaris have sacred groves
which were left standing when the land was cleared, lest the
sylvan gods, disquieted at the felling of the trees, should
abandon the place.[149] The Miris in Assam are unwilling to
break up new land for cultivation so long as there is fallow
land available; for they fear to offend the spirits of the
woods by hewing down trees needlessly.[150] On the other
hand, when a child has been lost, the Padams of Assam
think that it has been stolen by the spirits of the wood; so
they retaliate on the spirits by felling trees till they find the
child. The spirits, fearing to be left without a tree in which to
lodge, give up the child, and it is found in the fork of a tree.[151]
|Propitiating tree-spirits in house-timber.|
Even when a tree has been felled, sawn into planks, and
used to build a house, it is possible that the woodland spirit
may still be lurking in the timber, and accordingly some
people seek to propitiate him before or after they occupy the
new house. Hence, when a new dwelling is ready the
Toradjas of Central Celebes kill a goat, a pig, or a buffalo,
and smear all the woodwork with its blood. If the building
is a lobo or spirit-house, a fowl or a dog is killed on the
ridge of the roof, and its blood allowed to flow down on
both sides. The ruder Tonapoo in such a case sacrifice a
human being on the roof. This sacrifice on the roof of a
lobo or temple serves the same purpose as the smearing of
blood on the woodwork of an ordinary house. The intention
is to propitiate the forest-spirits who may still be in the
timber; they are thus put in good humour and will do the
40inmates of the house no harm. For a like reason people in
Celebes and the Moluccas are much afraid of planting a
post upside down at the building of a house; for the forest-spirit,
who might still be in the timber, would very naturally
resent the indignity and visit the inmates with sickness.[152]
The Bahaus or Kayans of central Borneo are of opinion
that tree-spirits stand very stiffly on the point of honour
and visit men with their displeasure for any injury done to
them. Hence after building a house, whereby they have been
forced to illtreat many trees, these people observe a period
of penance for a year, during which they must abstain from
many things, such as the killing of bears, tiger-cats, and
serpents. The period of taboo is brought to an end by a
ceremony at which head-hunting, or the pretence of it, plays
a part. The Ooloo-Ayar Dyaks on the Mandai river are
still more punctilious in their observance of taboos after
building a house. The length of the penance depends chiefly
on the kind of timber used in the construction of the dwelling.
If the timber was the valuable ironwood, the inmates of the
house must deny themselves various dainties for three years.
But the spirits of humbler trees are less exacting.[153] When the
Kayans have felled an ironwood tree in order to cut it up
into planks for a roof, they will offer a pig to the spirits of
the tree, hoping thus to prevent the spirits from molesting
the souls of persons assembled under the roof.[154]
|Sacred trees the abode of spirits.|
Thus the tree is regarded, sometimes as the body, sometimes
as merely the house of the tree-spirit; and when we
read of sacred trees which may not be cut down because
they are the seat of spirits, it is not always possible to say
with certainty in which way the presence of the spirit in the
tree is conceived. In the following cases, perhaps, the
trees are regarded as the dwelling-place of the spirits rather
than as their bodies. The Sea Dyaks point to many a tree
as sacred because it is the abode of a spirit or spirits, and to
41cut one of these down would provoke the spirit’s anger,
who might avenge himself by visiting the sacrilegious woodman
with sickness.[155] The Battas of Sumatra have been
known to refuse to cut down certain trees because they
were the abode of mighty spirits who would resent the
injury.[156] One of the largest and stateliest of the forest trees
in Perak is known as toallong; it has a very poisonous sap
which produces great irritation when it comes into contact
with the skin. Many trees of this species have large hollow
knobs on their trunks where branches have been broken
off. These knobs are looked upon by the Malays as
houses of spirits, and they object strongly to cut down trees
that are thus disfigured, believing that the man who fells
one of them will die within the year. When clearings are
made in the forest these trees are generally left standing to
the annoyance and expense of planters.[157] The Siamese fear
to cut down any very fine trees lest they should incur the
anger of the powerful spirits who inhabit them.[158] The En,
a tribe of Upper Burma, worship the spirits of hills and
forests, and over great tracts of country they will not lay out
fields for fear of offending the spirits. They say that if a
tree is felled a man dies.[159] In every Khond village a large
grove, generally of sâl trees (Shorea robusta), is dedicated to
the forest god, whose favour is sought by the sacrifice of
birds, hogs, and sheep, together with an offering of rice and
an addled egg. This sacred grove is religiously preserved.
The young trees are occasionally pruned, but not a twig may
be cut for use without the formal consent of the village and
the ceremonial propitiation of the god.[160] In some parts of
Berar the holy groves are so carefully preserved, that during
the annual festivals held in them it is customary to gather
and burn solemnly all dead and fallen branches and
42trees.[161] The Larka Kols of India believe that the tops of trees
are the abode of spirits who are disturbed by the felling of the
trees and will take vengeance.[162] The Parahiya, a Dravidian
tribe of Mirzapur, think that evil spirits live in the sâl, pîpal,
and mahua trees; they make offerings to such trees and will
not climb into their branches.[163] In Travancore demons are
supposed to reside in certain large old trees, which it would
be sacrilegious and dangerous to hew down. A rough stone
is generally placed at the foot of one of these trees as an
image or emblem, and turmeric powder is rubbed on it.[164]
Some of the Western tribes of British New Guinea dread
certain female devils who inhabit large trees and are very
dangerous. Trees supposed to be the abode of these demons
are treated with much respect and never cut down.[165] Near
Old Calabar there is a ravine full of the densest and richest
vegetation, whence a stream of limpid water flows purling to
the river. The spot was considered by a late king to be
hallowed ground, the residence of Anansa, the tutelary god
of Old Calabar. The people had strict orders to revere the
grove, and no branch of it might be cut.[166] Among the
Bambaras of the Upper Niger every village has its sacred
tree, generally a tamarind, which is supposed to be the abode
of the fetish and is carefully preserved. The fetish is consulted
on every important occasion, and sacrifices of sheep,
dogs, and fowls, accompanied with offerings of millet and
fruits, are made under the sacred tree.[167] In the deserts of
Arabia a modern traveller found a great solitary acacia-tree
which the Bedouins believed to be possessed by a jinnee.
Shreds of cotton and horns of goats hung among the boughs
and nails were knocked into the trunk. An Arab strongly
dissuaded the traveller from cutting a branch of the tree,
43assuring him that it was death to do so.[168] The Yourouks,
who inhabit the southern coasts of Asia Minor and the heights
of Mount Taurus, have sacred trees which they never cut
down from fear of driving away the spirits that own them.[169]
The old Prussians believed that gods inhabited tall trees,
such as oaks, from which they gave audible answers to
enquirers; hence these trees were not felled, but worshipped
as the homes of divinities. Amongst the trees thus venerated
by them was the elder-tree.[170] The Samagitians thought
that if any one ventured to injure certain groves, or the
birds or beasts in them, the spirits would make his hands
or feet crooked.[171] Down to the nineteenth century the
Esthonians stood in such awe of many trees, which they
considered as the seat of mighty spirits, that they would
not even pluck a flower or a berry on the ground where the
shadow of the trees fell, much less would they dare to break
a branch from the tree itself.[172]
|Sacred groves.|
Even where no mention is made of wood-spirits, we
may generally assume that when trees or groves are sacred
and inviolable, it is because they are believed to be either
inhabited or animated by sylvan deities. In Central India
the bar tree (Ficus Indica) and the pipal (Ficus religiosa)
are sacred, and every child learns the saying that “it is better
to die a leper than pluck a leaf of a pipal, and he who can
wound a bar will kick his little sister.”[173] In Livonia there
is a sacred grove in which, if any man fells a tree or breaks
a branch, he will die within the year.[174] The Wotyaks have
44sacred groves. A Russian who ventured to hew a tree in
one of them fell sick and died next day.[175] The heathen
Cheremiss of South-Eastern Russia have sacred groves, and
woe to him who dares to fell one of the holy trees. If the
author of the sacrilege is unknown, they take a cock or a
goose, torture it to death and then throw it on the fire, while
they pray to the gods to punish the sinner and cause him
to perish like the bird.[176] Near a chapel of St. Ninian, in the
parish of Belly, there stood more than a century and a half
ago a row of trees, “all of equal size, thick planted for about
the length of a butt,” which were “looked upon by the
superstitious papists as sacred trees, from which they reckon
it sacrilege to take so much as a branch or any of the
fruit.”[177] So in the island of Skye some two hundred and
fifty years ago there was a holy lake, “surrounded by a fair
wood, which none presumes to cut”; and those who ventured
to infringe its sanctity by breaking even a twig either
sickened on the spot or were visited afterwards by “some
signal inconvenience.”[178] Sacrifices offered at cutting down
trees are doubtless meant to appease the wood-spirits. In
Gilgit it is usual to sprinkle goat’s blood on a tree of any
kind before felling it.[179] The Akikuyu of British East
Africa hold the mugumu or mugomo tree, a species of
fig, sacred on account of its size and fine appearance;
hence they do not ruthlessly cut it down like all other
trees which cumber a patch of ground that is to be
cleared for tillage. Groves of this tree are sacred. In
them no axe may be laid to any tree, no branch broken,
no firewood gathered, no grass burnt; and wild animals
which have taken refuge there may not be molested. In
these sacred groves sheep and goats are sacrificed and
prayers are offered for rain or fine weather or in behalf
of sick children. The whole meat of the sacrifices is
left in the grove for God (Ngai) to eat; the fat is placed
in a cleft of the trunk or in the branches as a tit-bit for
45him. He lives up in the boughs but comes down to
partake of the food.[180]
|Transition of tree-spirit into anthropomorphic deity of the woods.|
When a tree comes to be viewed, no longer as the body
of the tree-spirit, but simply as its abode which it can quit
at pleasure, an important advance has been made in religious
thought. Animism is passing into polytheism. In other
words, instead of regarding each tree as a living and conscious
being, man now sees in it merely a lifeless, inert mass,
tenanted for a longer or shorter time by a supernatural
being who, as he can pass freely from tree to tree, thereby
enjoys a certain right of possession or lordship over the
trees, and, ceasing to be a tree-soul, becomes a forest god.
As soon as the tree-spirit is thus in a measure disengaged
from each particular tree, he begins to change his shape and
assume the body of a man, in virtue of a general tendency
of early thought to clothe all abstract spiritual beings in
concrete human form. Hence in classical art the sylvan
deities are depicted in human shape, their woodland character
being denoted by a branch or some equally obvious symbol.[181]
But this change of shape does not affect the essential
character of the tree-spirit. The powers which he exercised
as a tree-soul incorporate in a tree, he still continues to
wield as a god of trees. This I shall now attempt to prove
in detail. I shall shew, first, that trees considered as animate
beings are credited with the power of making the rain to fall,
the sun to shine, flocks and herds to multiply, and women
to bring forth easily; and, second, that the very same powers
are attributed to tree-gods conceived as anthropomorphic
beings or as actually incarnate in living men.
|Trees supposed to give rain and sunshine.|
First, then, trees or tree-spirits are believed to give rain
46and sunshine. When the missionary Jerome of Prague was
persuading the heathen Lithuanians to fell their sacred
groves, a multitude of women besought the Prince of
Lithuania to stop him, saying that with the woods he was
destroying the house of god from which they had been wont
to get rain and sunshine.[182] The Mundaris in Assam think
that if a tree in the sacred grove is felled the sylvan gods
evince their displeasure by withholding rain.[183] In order to
procure rain the inhabitants of Monyo, a village in the
Sagaing district of Upper Burma, chose the largest tamarind-tree
near the village and named it the haunt of the spirit
(nat) who controls the rain. Then they offered bread, coco-nuts,
plantains, and fowls to the guardian spirit of the village
and to the spirit who gives rain, and they prayed, “O Lord
nat have pity on us poor mortals, and stay not the rain.
Inasmuch as our offering is given ungrudgingly, let the rain
fall day and night.” Afterwards libations were made in
honour of the spirit of the tamarind-tree; and still later
three elderly women, dressed in fine clothes and wearing
necklaces and earrings, sang the Rain Song.[184] In Cambodia
each village or province has its sacred tree, the abode of a
spirit. If the rains are late the people sacrifice to the tree.[185]
In time of drought the elders of the Wakamba in East
Africa assemble and take a calabash of cider and a goat to
a baobab-tree, where they kill the goat but do not eat it.[186]
When Ovambo women go out to sow corn they take with
them in the basket of seed two green branches of a particular
kind of tree (Peltophorum africanum Sond.), one of which
they plant in the field along with the first seed sown. The
branch is believed to have the power of attracting rain;
hence in one of the native dialects the tree goes by the
name of the “rain-bush.”[187] To extort rain from the tree-spirit
47a branch is sometimes dipped in water, as we have
seen above.[188] In such cases the spirit is doubtless supposed
to be immanent in the branch, and the water thus applied to
the spirit produces rain by a sort of sympathetic magic,
exactly as we saw that in New Caledonia the rain-makers
pour water on a skeleton, believing that the soul of the
deceased will convert the water into rain.[189] There is hardly
room to doubt that Mannhardt is right in explaining as a
rain-charm the European custom of drenching with water
the trees which are cut at certain popular festivals, as midsummer,
Whitsuntide, and harvest.[190]
|Tree-spirits supposed to make the crops grow.|
Again, tree-spirits make the crops to grow. Amongst
the Mundaris every village has its sacred grove, and “the
grove deities are held responsible for the crops, and are
especially honoured at all the great agricultural festivals.”[191]
The negroes of the Gold Coast are in the habit of sacrificing
at the foot of certain tall trees, and they think that if one of
these were felled all the fruits of the earth would perish.[192]
Before harvest the Wabondëi of East Africa sacrifice a goat
to the spirit that lives in baobab-trees; the blood is poured
into a hole at the foot of one of the trees. If the sacrifice
were omitted the spirit would send disease and death among
the people.[193] The Gallas dance in couples round sacred
trees, praying for a good harvest. Every couple consists of
a man and woman, who are linked together by a stick, of
which each holds one end. Under their arms they carry
green corn or grass.[194] Swedish peasants stick a leafy branch
in each furrow of their corn-fields, believing that this will
|The Harvest-May.|
ensure an abundant crop.[195] The same idea comes out in the
German and French custom of the Harvest-May. This is a
large branch or a whole tree, which is decked with ears of
corn, brought home on the last waggon from the harvest-field,
48and fastened on the roof of the farmhouse or of the
barn, where it remains for a year. Mannhardt has proved
that this branch or tree embodies the tree-spirit conceived as
the spirit of vegetation in general, whose vivifying and fructifying
influence is thus brought to bear upon the corn in
particular. Hence in Swabia the Harvest-May is fastened
amongst the last stalks of corn left standing on the field; in
other places it is planted on the corn-field and the last sheaf
cut is attached to its trunk.[196] The Harvest-May of Germany
has its counterpart in the eiresione of ancient Greece.[197] The
eiresione was a branch of olive or laurel, bound about with
ribbons and hung with a variety of fruits. This branch was
carried in procession at a harvest festival and was fastened
over the door of the house, where it remained for a year.
The object of preserving the Harvest-May or the eiresione
for a year is that the life-giving virtue of the bough may
foster the growth of the crops throughout the year. By the
end of the year the virtue of the bough is supposed to be
exhausted and it is replaced by a new one. Following a
similar train of thought some of the Dyaks of Sarawak are
careful at the rice harvest to take up the roots of a certain
bulbous plant, which bears a beautiful crown of white and
fragrant flowers. These roots are preserved with the rice in
the granary and are planted again with the seed-rice in the
following season; for the Dyaks say that the rice will not
grow unless a plant of this sort be in the field.[198]
|Customs like the Harvest-May in India and Africa.|
Customs like that of the Harvest-May appear to exist
in India and Africa. At a harvest festival of the Lhoosai
of South-Eastern India the chief goes with his people into
the forest and fells a large tree, which is then carried into
the village and set up in the midst. Sacrifice is offered,
and spirits and rice are poured over the tree. The ceremony
closes with a feast and a dance, at which the unmarried men
and girls are the only performers.[199] Among the Bechuanas
the hack-thorn is very sacred, and it would be a serious
offence to cut a bough from it and carry it into the village
49during the rainy season. But when the corn is ripe in the
ear the people go with axes, and each man brings home a
branch of the sacred hack-thorn, with which they repair the
village cattle-yard.[200] According to another authority, it is a
rule with the Bechuanas that “neither the hook-thorn nor
the milk-tree must be cut down while the corn is on the
ground, for this, they think, would prevent rain. When I
was at Lattakoo, though Mr. Hamilton stood in much need
of some milk-tree timber, he durst not supply himself till all
the corn was gathered in.”[201] Many tribes of South-Eastern
Africa will not cut down timber while the corn is green,
fearing that if they did so, the crops would be destroyed
by blight, hail, or early frost.[202] The heathen Cheremiss,
in the Russian Government of Kasan, will not fell trees,
mow grass, or dig the ground while the corn is in bloom.[203]
Again, the fructifying power of the tree is put forth at seed-time
as well as at harvest. Among the Aryan tribes of
Gilgit, on the north-western frontier of India, the sacred tree
is the Chili, a species of cedar (Juniperus excelsa). At the
beginning of wheat-sowing the people receive from the
rajah’s granary a quantity of wheat, which is placed in a
skin mixed with sprigs of the sacred cedar. A large bonfire
of the cedar wood is lighted, and the wheat which is to be
sown is held over the smoke. The rest is ground and made
into a large cake, which is baked on the same fire and given
to the ploughman.[204] Here the intention of fertilising the
seed by means of the sacred cedar is unmistakable.
|Fertilising virtue attributed to trees.|
In all these cases the power of fostering the growth of
crops, and, in general, of cultivated plants, is ascribed to
trees. The ascription is not unnatural. For the tree is the
50largest and most powerful member of the vegetable kingdom,
and man is familiar with it before he takes to cultivating
corn. Hence he naturally places the feebler and, to him,
newer plant under the dominion of the older and more
powerful.
|Tree-spirits make herds to multiply and women to bring forth.|
Again, the tree-spirit makes the herds to multiply and
blesses women with offspring. The sacred Chili or cedar of
Gilgit was supposed to possess this virtue in addition to
that of fertilising the corn. At the commencement of
wheat-sowing three chosen unmarried youths, after undergoing
daily washing and purification for three days, used to
start for the mountain where the cedars grew, taking with
them wine, oil, bread, and fruit of every kind. Having
found a suitable tree they sprinkled the wine and oil on it,
while they ate the bread and fruit as a sacrificial feast.
Then they cut off the branch and brought it to the village,
where, amid general rejoicing, it was placed on a large
stone beside running water. “A goat was then sacrificed,
its blood poured over the cedar branch, and a wild dance
took place, in which weapons were brandished about, and
the head of the slaughtered goat was borne aloft, after
which it was set up as a mark for arrows and bullet-practice.
Every good shot was rewarded with a gourd full
of wine and some of the flesh of the goat. When the flesh
was finished the bones were thrown into the stream and a
general ablution took place, after which every man went to
his house taking with him a spray of the cedar. On arrival
at his house he found the door shut in his face, and on his
knocking for admission, his wife asked, ‘What have you
brought?’ To which he answered, ‘If you want children,
I have brought them to you; if you want food, I have
brought it; if you want cattle, I have brought them; whatever
you want, I have it.’ The door was then opened and
he entered with his cedar spray. The wife then took some
of the leaves, and pouring wine and water on them placed
them on the fire, and the rest were sprinkled with flour and
suspended from the ceiling. She then sprinkled flour on
her husband’s head and shoulders, and addressed him thus,
‘Ai Shiri Bagerthum, son of the fairies, you have come from
far!’ Shiri Bagerthum, ‘the dreadful king,’ being the form
51of address to the cedar when praying for wants to be
fulfilled. The next day the wife baked a number of cakes,
and taking them with her, drove the family goats to the
Chili stone. When they were collected round the stone,
she began to pelt them with pebbles, invoking the Chili at
the same time. According to the direction in which the
goats ran off, omens were drawn as to the number and sex
of the kids expected during the ensuing year. Walnuts
and pomegranates were then placed on the Chili stone, the
cakes were distributed and eaten, and the goats followed to
pasture in whatever direction they showed a disposition to
go. For five days afterwards this song was sung in all the
houses:—
‘Dread Fairy King, I sacrifice before you,
How nobly do you stand! you have filled up my house,
|Fertilising virtue attributed to trees.|
Here the driving of the goats to the stone on which the
cedar had been placed is clearly meant to impart to them
the fertilising influence of the cedar. In Northern India the
Emblica officinalis is a sacred tree. On the eleventh of the
month Phalgun (February) libations are poured at the foot
of the tree, a red or yellow string is bound about the trunk,
and prayers are offered to it for the fruitfulness of women,
animals, and crops.[206] Again, in Northern India the coco-nut
is esteemed one of the most sacred fruits, and is called
Sriphala, or the fruit of Sri, the goddess of prosperity. It is
the symbol of fertility, and all through Upper India is kept
in shrines and presented by the priests to women who desire
to become mothers.[207] In the town of Qua, near Old Calabar,
there used to grow a palm-tree which ensured conception to
any barren woman who ate a nut from its branches.[208] In
52|Influence of May-trees on cattle.|
Europe the May-tree or May-pole is apparently supposed to
possess similar powers over both women and cattle. Thus
in some parts of Germany on the first of May the peasants
set up May-trees or May-bushes at the doors of stables
and byres, one for each horse and cow; this is thought to
make the cows yield much milk.[209] Of the Irish we are told
that “they fancy a green bough of a tree, fastened on May-day
against the house, will produce plenty of milk that
summer.”[210] In Suffolk there was an old custom, observed
in most farm-houses, that any servant who could bring in a
branch of hawthorn in blossom on the first of May was
entitled to a dish of cream for breakfast.[211] Similarly, “in
parts of Cornwall, till certainly ten years ago, any child who
brought to a dairy on May morning a piece of hawthorn in
bloom, or a piece of fresh bracken, long enough to surround
the earthenware bowl in which cream is kept, was given a
bowl of cream.”[212] On May Day English milkmaids used to
dance with garlands on their pails. One May morning long
ago Pepys on his way to Westminster saw many of them
dancing thus to the music of a fiddle while pretty Nel
Gwynne, in her smock sleeves and bodice, watched them
from the door of her lodgings in Drury-lane.[213]
|May-tree or May-bush a protection against witchcraft.|
However in these and similar European customs it
seems that the influence of the tree, bush, or bough is really
protective rather than generative; it does not so much fill
the udders of the cows as prevent them from being drained
dry by witches, who ride on broomsticks or pitchforks through
the air on the Eve of May Day (the famous Walpurgis
Night) and make great efforts to steal the milk from the
cattle. Hence the many precautions which the prudent
herdsman must take to guard his beasts at this season from
the raids of these baleful creatures. For example, on May
morning the Irish scatter primroses on the threshold, keep a
53piece of red-hot iron on the hearth, or twine branches of
whitethorn and mountain-ash or rowan about the door. To
save the milk they cut and peel boughs of mountain-ash
(rowan), and bind the twigs round the milk-pails and the
churn.[214] According to a writer of the sixteenth century,
whose description is quoted by Camden, the Irish “account
every woman who fetches fire on May-day a witch, nor will
they give it to any but sick persons, and that with an
imprecation, believing she will steal all the butter the next
summer. On May day they kill all the hares they find
among their cattle, supposing them the old women who
have designs on the butter. They imagine the butter so
stolen may be recovered if they take some of the thatch
hanging over the door and burn it.”[215] In the north-east of
Scotland pieces of rowan-tree and woodbine, or of rowan
alone, used to be placed over the doors of the cow-houses on
May Day to keep the witches from the kine; and a still
better way of attaining the same object was to tie a cross of
rowan-tree wood with a scarlet thread to each animal’s tail.[216]
The Highlanders of Scotland believe that on Beltane eve,
that is the night before May Day, the witches go about in
the shape of hares and suck the milk from the cows. To
guard against their depredations tar was put behind the ears
of the cattle and at the root of the tail, and the house was
hung with rowan-tree.[217] For the same reason the Highlanders
say that the peg of the cow-shackle and the handle
and cross of the churn-staff should always be made of
rowan, because that is the most potent charm against witchcraft.[218]
In the Isle of Man on May Day, old style, people carried
crosses of rowan in their hats and fastened May-flowers over
their doors as a protection against elves and witches, and for
the same purpose they tied crosses of rowan to the tails of
54the cattle. Also women washed their faces in the dew early
on May morning in order to secure good luck, a fine complexion,
and immunity from witches. Further, the break
of day on that morning was the signal for setting the
ling or gorse on fire, which was done for the sake of burning
out the witches, who are wont to take the shape of hares.
In some places, indeed, as in the Lezayre parish, the
practice was to burn gorse in the hedge of every field to
drive away the witches, who are still feared in the Isle of
Man.[219] In Norway and Denmark branches of rowan are
|Precautions against witchcraft on May Day and Walpurgis Night.|
similarly used to protect houses and cattle-stalls against
witches on Walpurgis Night, and there, too, it is thought
that the churn-staff should be made of rowan.[220] In Germany
a common way of keeping witches from the cattle on
Walpurgis Night is to chalk up three crosses on the door of
the cowhouse.[221] Branches of buckthorn stuck in the muck-heaps
on the eve of May Day answer the same purpose.[222] In
Silesia the precautions taken at this season against witches
are many and various; for example, pieces of buckthorn are
nailed crosswise over the door of the cowhouse; pitchforks
and harrows, turned upside down, with the prongs pointing
outwards, are placed at the doors; and a sod of fresh turf
from a meadow is laid before the threshold and strewed with
marsh-marigolds. Before the witches can pass the threshold,
they must count every blade of grass in the turf and every
petal of the marigolds; and while they are still counting the
day breaks and their power is gone. For the same reason
little birch-trees are set up at the house-door, because the
witches cannot enter the house till they have counted all
the leaves; and before they have done the sum it is broad
55daylight, and they must flee away with the shadows.[223] On
Walpurgis Night the Germans of Moravia put knives under
the threshold of the cowhouse and twigs of birch at the door
and in the muck-heap to keep the witches from the cows.[224]
For the same purpose the Bohemians at this season lay
branches of gooseberry bushes, hawthorn, and wild rose-trees
on the thresholds of the cowhouses, because the witches are
caught by the thorns and can get no farther.[225] We now see
why thorny trees and bushes, whether hawthorn, buckthorn,
or what not, afford protection against witchcraft: they serve
as prickly hedges through which the witches cannot force
their way. But this explanation clearly does not apply to
the mountain-ash and the birch.
|Influence of tree-spirits on cattle among the Wends, Esthonians, and Circassians.|
On the second of July some of the Wends used to set up
an oak-tree in the middle of the village with an iron cock
fastened to its top; then they danced round it, and drove
the cattle round it to make them thrive.[226] Some of the
Esthonians believe in a mischievous spirit called Metsik,
who lives in the forest and has the weal of the cattle in his
hands. Every year a new image of him is prepared. On
an appointed day all the villagers assemble and make a
straw man, dress him in clothes, and take him to the common
pasture-land of the village. Here the figure is fastened to
a high tree, round which the people dance noisily. On
almost every day of the year prayer and sacrifice are
offered to him that he may protect the cattle. Sometimes the
image of Metsik is made of a corn-sheaf and fastened to
a tall tree in the wood. The people perform strange antics
before it to induce Metsik to guard the corn and the cattle.[227]
The Circassians regard the pear-tree as the protector of
cattle. So they cut down a young pear-tree in the forest,
branch it, and carry it home, where it is adored as a
divinity. Almost every house has one such pear-tree. In
autumn, on the day of the festival, the tree is carried into
the house with great ceremony to the sound of music and
56amid the joyous cries of all the inmates, who compliment it
on its fortunate arrival. It is covered with candles, and a
cheese is fastened to its top. Round about it they eat, drink,
and sing. Then they bid the tree good-bye and take it
back to the courtyard, where it remains for the rest of the
year, set up against the wall, without receiving any mark of
respect.[228]
|Tree-spirits grant offspring or an easy delivery to women.|
In the Tuhoe tribe of Maoris “the power of making
women fruitful is ascribed to trees. These trees are associated
with the navel-strings of definite mythical ancestors,
as indeed the navel-strings of all children used to be hung
upon them down to quite recent times. A barren woman had
to embrace such a tree with her arms, and she received a
male or a female child according as she embraced the east
or the west side.”[229] The common European custom of placing
a green bush on May Day before or on the house of a beloved
maiden probably originated in the belief of the fertilising power
of the tree-spirit.[230] In some parts of Bavaria such bushes are
set up also at the houses of newly-married pairs, and the
practice is only omitted if the wife is near her confinement;
for in that case they say that the husband has “set up a May-bush
for himself.”[231] Among the South Slavonians a barren
woman, who desires to have a child, places a new chemise
upon a fruitful tree on the eve of St. George’s Day. Next
morning before sunrise she examines the garment, and if she
finds that some living creature has crept on it, she hopes
that her wish will be fulfilled within the year. Then she
57puts on the chemise, confident that she will be as fruitful as
the tree on which the garment has passed the night.[232] Among
the Kara-Kirghiz barren women roll themselves on the ground
under a solitary apple-tree, in order to obtain offspring.[233]
Some of the hill-tribes of India have a custom of marrying
the bride and bridegroom to two trees before they are married
to each other. For example, among the Mundas the bride
touches with red lead a mahwá-tree, clasps it in her arms,
and is tied to it; and the bridegroom goes through a like
ceremony with a mango-tree.[234] The intention of the custom
may perhaps be to communicate to the newly-wedded pair
the vigorous reproductive power of the trees.[235] Lastly, the
58power of granting to women an easy delivery at child-birth
is ascribed to trees both in Sweden and Africa. In some
districts of Sweden there was formerly a bårdträd or guardian-tree
(lime, ash, or elm) in the neighbourhood of every
farm. No one would pluck a single leaf of the sacred tree,
any injury to which was punished by ill-luck or sickness.
Pregnant women used to clasp the tree in their arms in
order to ensure an easy delivery.[236] In some negro tribes of
the Congo region pregnant women make themselves garments
out of the bark of a certain sacred tree, because they
believe that this tree delivers them from the dangers that
attend child-bearing.[237] The story that Leto clasped a palm-tree
and an olive-tree or two laurel-trees, when she was about
to give birth to the divine twins Apollo and Artemis, perhaps
points to a similar Greek belief in the efficacy of
certain trees to facilitate delivery.[238]
CHAPTER X RELICS OF TREE-WORSHIP IN MODERN EUROPE
59
|May-trees in Europe.|
From the foregoing review of the beneficent qualities commonly
ascribed to tree-spirits, it is easy to understand why
customs like the May-tree or May-pole have prevailed so
widely and figured so prominently in the popular festivals
of European peasants. In spring or early summer or even
on Midsummer Day, it was and still is in many parts of
Europe the custom to go out to the woods, cut down a tree
and bring it into the village, where it is set up amid general
rejoicings; or the people cut branches in the woods, and
fasten them on every house. The intention of these customs
is to bring home to the village, and to each house, the
blessings which the tree-spirit has in its power to bestow.
Hence the custom in some places of planting a May-tree
before every house, or of carrying the village May-tree from
door to door, that every household may receive its share of
the blessing. Out of the mass of evidence on this subject
a few examples may be selected.
|May-trees and May-bushes in England.|
Sir Henry Piers, in his Description of Westmeath, writing
in 1682 says: “On May-eve, every family sets up before
their door a green bush, strewed over with yellow flowers,
which the meadows yield plentifully. In countries where
timber is plentiful, they erect tall slender trees, which stand
high, and they continue almost the whole year; so as a
stranger would go nigh to imagine that they were all signs
of ale-sellers, and that all houses were ale-houses.”[239] In
Northamptonshire a young tree ten or twelve feet high used
to be planted before each house on May Day so as to appear
60growing; flowers were thrown over it and strewn about the
door.[240] “Among ancient customs still retained by the
Cornish, may be reckoned that of decking their doors and
porches on the first of May with green boughs of sycamore
and hawthorn, and of planting trees, or rather stumps of
trees, before their houses.”[241] In the north of England it was
|May garlands in England.|
formerly the custom for young people to rise a little after
midnight on the morning of the first of May, and go out
with music and the blowing of horns into the woods, where
they broke branches and adorned them with nosegays and
crowns of flowers. This done, they returned about sunrise
and fastened the flower-decked branches over the doors and
windows of their houses.[242] At Abingdon in Berkshire young
people formerly went about in groups on May morning,
singing a carol of which the following are two of the
verses:—
At the towns of Saffron Walden and Debden in Essex
on the first of May little girls go about in parties from door
to door singing a song almost identical with the above and
carrying garlands; a doll dressed in white is usually placed
in the middle of each garland.[244] Similar customs have
been and indeed are still observed in various parts of
England. The garlands are generally in the form of
hoops intersecting each other at right angles. Thus on
May morning the girls of the neighbouring villages used
to flock into Northampton bringing their garlands, which
they exhibited from house to house. The skeleton of
61the garland was formed of two hoops of osier or hazel
crossing each other at right angles, and so twined with
flowers and ribbons that no part of them could be seen. In
the centre of the garlands were placed gaily dressed dolls,
one, two, or three in number according to the size of the
garland. The whole was fixed to a staff about five feet
long, by which it was carried. In shewing their garlands
the children chanted some simple ditties and received in
return pennies, which furnished forth a feast on their return
to their homes. A merry dance round the garland concluded
the festivity.[245] At Uttoxeter groups of children carry
garlands of flowers about the town on May Day. “The
garlands consist of two hoops, one passing through the
other, which give the appearance of four half-circles, and
they are decorated with flowers and evergreens, and
surmounted with a bunch of flowers as a sort of crown,
and in the centre of the hoops is a pendant orange and
flowers.” One or more of the children carry a little pole
or stick upright with a bunch of flowers fastened to the top.
They are themselves decorated with flowers and ribbons,
and receive pence from the houses which they visit.[246] At
Watford in Hertfordshire, groups of children, almost entirely
girls, go about the streets from door to door on May Day
singing some verses, of which two agree almost verbally
with those which, as we have seen, are sung at Abingdon in
Berkshire. They are dressed in white, and adorned with gay
ribbons and sashes of many hues. “Two of the girls carry
between them on a stick what they call ‘the garland,’ which
in its simplest form, is made of two circular hoops, intersecting
each other at right angles; a more elaborate form has,
in addition, smaller semicircles inserted in the four angles
formed by the meeting of the hoops at the top of ‘the garland.’
These hoops are covered with any wild-flowers in
season, and are further ornamented with ribbons. The
62‘garland’ in shape reminds me of the ‘Christmas’ which
used to form the centre of the Christmas decorations in
Yorkshire some few years ago, except that the latter had a
bunch of mistletoe inside the hoops.”[247] A similar custom
was observed at Bampton-in-the-Bush in Oxfordshire down
to about the middle of the nineteenth century. The
garland consisted of two crossed hoops covered with
moss, flowers, and ribbons. Two girls, known as the
Lady and her Maid, bore the garland between them on a
stick; and a boy called the Lord, who carried a stick
dressed with ribbons and flowers, collected contributions
from the spectators. From time to time the Lady sang a
few lines and was then kissed by the Lord.[248] At Sevenoaks
in Kent the children carry boughs and garlands from door
to door on May Day. The boughs consist of sticks carried
upright with bunches of leaves and wild-flowers fastened to
the top. The garlands are formed of two hoops interlaced
cross-wise and covered with blue and yellow flowers from the
woods and hedges. Sometimes the garlands are fastened to
the end of a stick carried perpendicularly, sometimes they
hang from the middle of a stick borne horizontally by two
children.[249] In the streets of Cambridge little girls regularly
make their appearance every May Day with female dolls
enclosed in hoops, which are covered with ribbons and
flowers. These they shew to passers-by, inviting them to
remember the May Lady by paying a small sum to her
bearers.[250] At Salisbury girls go through the streets on May
Day in pairs, carrying between them on a stick a circular
garland or hoop adorned with flowers and bows; they visit
the shops asking for money. A similar custom is observed
at Wilton a few miles from Salisbury.[251] At Cawthorne in
Yorkshire “on the first of May the school-children came with
hoops to beg for artificial flowers; these my mother’s maid
63used to sew on to the hoops, which with ribbons and other
decorations, were used in decking out a tall May-pole planted
in the village.”[252] It appears that a hoop wreathed with
rowan and marsh marigold, and bearing suspended within it
two balls, is still carried on May Day by villagers in some
parts of Ireland. The balls, which are sometimes covered
with gold and silver paper, are said to have originally
represented the sun and moon.[253]
|May customs in France, Germany, and Greece.|
In some villages of the Vosges Mountains on the first
Sunday of May young girls go in bands from house to house,
singing a song in praise of May, in which mention is made of
the “bread and meal that come in May.” If money is given
them, they fasten a green bough to the door; if it is refused,
they wish the family many children and no bread to feed them.[254]
In the French department of Mayenne, boys who bore the
name of Maillotins used to go about from farm to farm on
the first of May singing carols, for which they received
money or a drink; they planted a small tree or a
branch of a tree.[255] Among the Germans of Moravia on
the third Sunday before Easter, which goes by the
name of Laetare Sunday, it is customary in some places
for young girls to carry a small fir-tree about from door
to door, while they sing songs, for which they receive
presents. The tree is tricked out with many-coloured
ribbons, and sometimes with flowers and dyed egg-shells,
and its branches are twined together so as to
form what is called a crown.[256] In Corfu the children go
about singing May songs on the first of May. The boys
carry small cypresses adorned with ribbons, flowers, and the
fruits of the season. They receive a glass of wine at each
64house. The girls carry nosegays. One of them is dressed
up like an angel, with gilt wings, and scatters flowers.[257]
|Whitsuntide customs in Russia.|
On the Thursday before Whitsunday the Russian
villagers “go out into the woods, sing songs, weave garlands,
and cut down a young birch-tree, which they dress
up in woman’s clothes, or adorn with many-coloured shreds
and ribbons. After that comes a feast, at the end of which
they take the dressed-up birch-tree, carry it home to their
village with joyful dance and song, and set it up in one of
the houses, where it remains as an honoured guest till Whitsunday.
On the two intervening days they pay visits to
the house where their ‘guest’ is; but on the third day,
Whitsunday, they take her to a stream and fling her into
its waters,” throwing their garlands after her. “All over
Russia every village and every town is turned, a little before
Whitsunday, into a sort of garden. Everywhere along the
streets the young birch-trees stand in rows, every house and
every room is adorned with boughs, even the engines upon
the railway are for the time decked with green leaves.”[258]
In this Russian custom the dressing of the birch in
woman’s clothes shews how clearly the tree is personified;
and the throwing it into a stream is most probably a rain-charm.
In some villages of Altmark it was formerly the
custom for serving-men, grooms, and cowherds to go from
farm to farm at Whitsuntide distributing crowns made of
birch branches and flowers to the farmers; these crowns
were hung up in the houses and left till the following
year.[259]
|May-trees in Germany and Sweden.|
In the neighbourhood of Zabern in Alsace bands of
people go about carrying May-trees. Amongst them is a
man dressed in a white shirt, with his face blackened; in
front of him is carried a large May-tree, but each member of
the band also carries a smaller one. One of the company
bears a huge basket in which he collects eggs, bacon, and
so forth.[260] In some parts of Sweden on the eve of May Day
lads go about carrying each a bunch of fresh-gathered birch
twigs, wholly or partially in leaf. With the village fiddler at
65their head, they make the round of the houses singing May
songs; the burden of their songs is a prayer for fine weather, a
plentiful harvest, and worldly and spiritual blessings. One of
them carries a basket in which he collects gifts of eggs and
the like. If they are well received they stick a leafy twig in
the roof over the cottage door.[261]
|Midsummer trees and poles in Sweden.|
But in Sweden midsummer is the season when these
ceremonies are chiefly observed. On the Eve of St. John
(the twenty-third of June) the houses are thoroughly
cleansed and garnished with green boughs and flowers.
Young fir-trees are raised at the doorway and elsewhere
about the homestead; and very often small umbrageous
arbours are constructed in the garden. In Stockholm
on this day a leaf-market is held at which thousands
of May-poles (Maj Stănger), from six inches to twelve
feet high, decorated with leaves, flowers, slips of coloured
paper, gilt egg-shells strung on reeds, and so on, are exposed
for sale. Bonfires are lit on the hills, and the people
dance round them and jump over them. But the chief event
of the day is setting up the May-pole. This consists of a
straight and tall spruce-pine tree, stripped of its branches.
“At times hoops and at others pieces of wood, placed cross-wise,
are attached to it at intervals; whilst at others it is
provided with bows, representing, so to say, a man with his
arms akimbo. From top to bottom not only the ‘Maj
Stăng’ (May-pole) itself, but the hoops, bows, etc., are ornamented
with leaves, flowers, slips of various cloth, gilt egg-shells,
etc.; and on the top of it is a large vane, or it may
be a flag.” The raising of the May-pole, the decoration of
which is done by the village maidens, is an affair of much
ceremony; the people flock to it from all quarters, and dance
round it in a great ring.[262] Midsummer customs of the same
sort used to be observed in some parts of Germany. Thus
in the towns of the Upper Harz Mountains tall fir-trees,
with the bark peeled off their lower trunks, were set up in
open places and decked with flowers and eggs, which were
painted yellow and red. Round these trees the young folk
danced by day and the old folk in the evening. Many
66people disguised themselves, and dramatic representations
were given, amongst others mock executions, at which the
sufferer’s hat was knocked off instead of his head. At the
village of Lerbach in these fir-clad mountains children would
gather together on Midsummer Day, each with a tiny fir-tree,
which they made to revolve from left to right in the
direction of the sun, while they sang “The maiden turned
herself about,” or “Oh, thou dear Summertime! Oh, thou
dear Summertime!”[263] In some parts of Bohemia also a
May-pole or midsummer-tree is erected on St. John’s Eve.
The lads fetch a tall fir or pine from the wood and set it up
on a height, where the girls deck it with nosegays, garlands,
and red ribbons. It is afterwards burned.[264]
|Village May-poles in England.|
It would be needless to illustrate at length the custom,
which has prevailed in various parts of Europe, such as
England, France, and Germany, of setting up a village May-tree
or May-pole on May Day.[265] A few examples will
suffice. The puritanical writer Phillip Stubbes in his
Anatomie of Abuses, first published at London in 1583,
has described with manifest disgust how they used to bring
in the May-pole in the days of good Queen Bess. His
description affords us a vivid glimpse of merry England in
the olden time. “Against May, Whitsonday, or other time,
all the yung men and maides, olde men and wives, run
gadding over night to the woods, groves, hils, and mountains,
where they spend all the night in plesant pastimes; and in
the morning they return, bringing with them birch and
branches of trees, to deck their assemblies withall. And no
mervaile, for there is a great Lord present amongst them, as
superintendent and Lord over their pastimes and sportes,
namely, Sathan, prince of hel. But the chiefest jewel they
bring from thence is their May-pole, which they bring home
67|Bringing in the May-pole.|
with great veneration, as thus. They have twentie or fortie
yoke of oxen, every oxe having a sweet nose-gay of flouers
placed on the tip of his hornes, and these oxen drawe home
this May-pole (this stinkyng ydol, rather), which is covered
all over with floures and hearbs, bound round about with
strings, from the top to the bottome, and sometime painted
with variable colours, with two or three hundred men,
women and children following it with great devotion. And
thus beeing reared up, with handkercheefs and flags hovering
on the top, they straw the ground rounde about, binde
green boughes about it, set up sommer haules, bowers, and
arbors hard by it. And then fall they to daunce about it,
like as the heathen people did at the dedication of the
Idols, whereof this is a perfect pattern, or rather the thing
itself. I have heard it credibly reported (and that viva
voce) by men of great gravitie and reputation, that of fortie,
threescore, or a hundred maides going to the wood over
night, there have scaresly the third part of them returned
home againe undefiled.”[266] Of the Cornish people their
historian Borlase says: “From towns they make excursions,
on May eve, into the country, cut down a tall elm, bring it
into town with rejoicings, and having fitted a straight taper
pole to the end of it, and painted it, erect it in the most
publick part, and upon holidays and festivals dress it
with garlands of flowers, or ensigns and streamers.”[267] In
Northumberland, down apparently to near the end of the
eighteenth century, young people of both sexes used to go
out early on May morning to gather the flowering thorn
and the dew off the grass, which they brought home with
music and acclamations; then, having dressed a pole on the
green with garlands, they danced about it. The dew was
considered as a great cosmetic, and preserved the face from
wrinkles, blotches, and the traces of old age. A syllabub
made of warm milk from the cow, sweet cakes, and wine
was prepared for the feast; and a kind of divination, to
discover who should be wedded first, was practised by
dropping a marriage-ring into the syllabub and fishing for it
68with a ladle.[268] At Padstow in Cornwall, when shipbuilding
was a thriving industry of the port, the shipwrights used to
erect a tall May-pole at the top of Cross Street in the middle
of a cross inlaid with stone. The pole was gaily decorated
with spring flowers and so forth. But the custom has long
been abandoned. A great feature of the celebration of May
Day at Padstow used to be the Hobby Horse, that is, a man
wearing a ferocious mask, who went dancing and singing
before the chief houses, accompanied by a great flower-bedecked
crowd of men and women, while the men fired
pistols loaded with powder in all directions.[269]
|Village May-trees and May-poles in Germany.|
In Swabia on the first of May a tall fir-tree used to be
fetched into the village, where it was decked with ribbons
and set up; then the people danced round it merrily to
music. The tree stood on the village green the whole
year through, until a fresh tree was brought in next May
Day.[270] In Saxony “people were not content with bringing
the summer symbolically (as king or queen) into the village;
they brought the fresh green itself from the woods even into
the houses: that is the May or Whitsuntide trees, which are
mentioned in documents from the thirteenth century onwards.
The fetching in of the May-tree was also a festival. The
people went out into the woods to seek the May (majum
quaerere), brought young trees, especially firs and birches,
to the village and set them up before the doors of the
houses or of the cattle-stalls or in the rooms. Young
fellows erected such May-trees, as we have already said,
before the chambers of their sweethearts. Besides these
household Mays, a great May-tree or May-pole, which had
also been brought in solemn procession to the village, was
set up in the middle of the village or in the market-place of
the town. It had been chosen by the whole community,
who watched over it most carefully. Generally the tree was
stripped of its branches and leaves, nothing but the crown
being left, on which were displayed, in addition to many-coloured
ribbons and cloths, a variety of victuals such as
69sausages, cakes, and eggs. The young folk exerted themselves
to obtain these prizes. In the greasy poles which
are still to be seen at our fairs we have a relic of these old
May-poles. Not uncommonly there was a race on foot
or on horseback to the May-tree—a Whitsuntide pastime
which in course of time has been divested of its goal and
survives as a popular custom to this day in many parts of
Germany. In the great towns of our land the custom has
developed into sport, for our spring races are in their origin
nothing but the old German horse-races, in which the victor
received a prize (generally a red cloth) from the hand of a
maiden, while the last rider was greeted with jeers and gibes
by the assembled community.”[271] The custom of the May-tree
is observed by the Wends of Saxony, as well as by
the Germans. The young men of the village choose the
slimmest and tallest tree in the wood, peel it and set it up
on the village green. Its leafy top is decked with cloths
and ribbons presented by the girls. Here it stands, towering
high above the roofs, till Ascension Day, or in many
places till Whitsuntide. When it is being taken down, the
young folk dance round it, and the youth who catches and
breaks off the leafy crown of the falling tree is the hero of
the day. Holding the green boughs aloft he is carried
shoulder-high, with music and joyous shouts, to the ale-house,
where the dance is resumed.[272] At Bordeaux on the
|May-poles and May-trees in France.|
first of May the boys of each street used to erect in it a
May-pole, which they adorned with garlands and a great
crown; and every evening during the whole of the month
the young people of both sexes danced singing about the
pole.[273] Down to the present day May-trees decked with
flowers and ribbons are set up on May Day in every village
and hamlet of gay Provence. Under them the young folk
make merry and the old folk rest.[274] The Red Karens of
|May-poles among the Karens of Burma.|
Upper Burma hold a festival in April, at which the chief
ceremony is the erection of a post on ground set apart for
70the purpose in or near each village. A new post is set up
every year; the old ones are left standing, but are not
renewed if they fall or decay. Omens are first drawn from
chicken bones as to which tree will be the best to fell for
the post, which day will be the luckiest, and so on. A
pole some twenty or thirty feet long is then hewn from the
tree and ornamented with a rudely carved capital. On the
lucky day all the villagers assemble and drag the pole to
the chosen spot. When it has been set up, the people
dance “a rude sort of May-pole dance” to the music of
drums and gongs. Much pork is eaten and much liquor
drunk on this festive occasion.[275]
|Permanent May-poles.|
In all these cases, apparently, the custom is or was to
bring in a new May-tree each year. However, in England
the village May-pole seems as a rule, at least in later times,
to have been permanent, not renewed annually.[276] Villages of
Upper Bavaria renew their May-pole once every three, four,
or five years. It is a fir-tree fetched from the forest, and
amid all the wreaths, flags, and inscriptions with which it is
bedecked, an essential part is the bunch of dark green foliage
left at the top “as a memento that in it we have to do, not
with a dead pole, but with a living tree from the greenwood.”[277]
We can hardly doubt that originally the practice everywhere
was to set up a new May-tree every year. As the object of
the custom was to bring in the fructifying spirit of vegetation,
newly awakened in spring, the end would have been defeated
if, instead of a living tree, green and sappy, an old withered
one had been erected year after year or allowed to stand
permanently. When, however, the meaning of the custom
had been forgotten, and the May-tree was regarded simply
as a centre for holiday merry-making, people saw no reason
for felling a fresh tree every year, and preferred to let the
same tree stand permanently, only decking it with fresh
flowers on May Day. But even when the May-pole had thus
become a fixture, the need of giving it the appearance of
being a green tree, not a dead pole, was sometimes felt.
Thus at Weverham in Cheshire “are two May-poles, which
71are decorated on this day (May Day) with all due attention
to the ancient solemnity; the sides are hung with garlands,
and the top terminated by a birch or other tall slender tree
with its leaves on; the bark being peeled, and the stem
spliced to the pole, so as to give the appearance of one tree
from the summit.”[278] Thus the renewal of the May-tree is
like the renewal of the Harvest-May;[279] each is intended to
secure a fresh portion of the fertilising spirit of vegetation,
and to preserve it throughout the year. But whereas the
efficacy of the Harvest-May is restricted to promoting the
growth of the crops, that of the May-tree or May-branch
extends also, as we have seen, to women and cattle. Lastly,
|The May-tree burnt at the end of the year.|
it is worth noting that the old May-tree is sometimes burned
at the end of the year. Thus in the district of Prague
young people break pieces of the public May-tree and place
them behind the holy pictures in their rooms, where they
remain till next May Day, and are then burned on the
hearth.[280] In Würtemberg the bushes which are set up on
the houses on Palm Sunday are sometimes left there for a
year and then burnt.[281] The eiresione (the Harvest-May of
Greece) was perhaps burnt at the end of the year.[282]
|Tree-spirit detached from the tree and represented in human form.|
So much for the tree-spirit conceived as incorporate or
immanent in the tree. We have now to shew that the tree-spirit
is often conceived and represented as detached from
the tree and clothed in human form, and even as embodied
in living men or women. The evidence for this anthropomorphic
representation of the tree-spirit is largely to be
found in the popular customs of European peasantry. These
will be described presently, but before examining them we
may notice an Esthonian folk-tale which illustrates the same
train of thought very clearly. Once upon a time, so runs
|Esthonian story of a tree-elf.|
the tale, a young peasant was busy raking the hay in a
72meadow, when on the rim of the horizon a heavy thunder-cloud
loomed black and angry, warning him to make
haste with his work before the storm should break. He
finished in time, and was wending his way homeward, when
under a tree he espied a stranger fast asleep. “He will be
drenched to the skin,” thought the good-natured young
fellow to himself, “if I allow him to sleep on.” So he
stepped up to the sleeper and shaking him forcibly roused
him from his slumber. The stranger started up, and at sight
of the thunder-cloud, which now darkened the sky, he
blenched, fumbled in his pockets, and finding nothing in
them wherewith to reward the friendly swain, he said, “This
time I am your debtor. But the time will come when I
shall be able to repay your kindness. Remember what I
tell you. You will enlist. You will be parted from your
friends for years, and one day a feeling of homesickness will
come over you in a foreign land. Then look up, and you
will see a crooked birch-tree a few steps from you. Go to
it, knock thrice on the trunk, and ask, ‘Is the Crooked One
at home?’ The rest will follow.” With these words the
stranger hastened away and was out of sight in a moment.
The peasant also went his way, and soon forgot all about
the matter. Well, time went by and part of the stranger’s
prophecy came true. For the peasant turned soldier and
served in a cavalry regiment for years. One day, when he
was quartered with his regiment in the north of Finland, it
fell to his turn to tend the horses while his comrades were
roistering in the tavern. Suddenly a great yearning for
home, such as he had never known before, came over the
lonely trooper; tears started to his eyes, and dear visions of
his native land crowded on his soul. Then he bethought
him of the sleeping stranger in the wood, and the whole
scene came back to him as fresh as if it had happened
yesterday. He looked up, and there, strange to tell, he was
aware of a crooked birch-tree right in front of him. More
in jest than in earnest he went up to it and did as the
stranger had bidden him. Hardly had the words, “Is the
Crooked One at home?” passed his lips when the stranger
himself stood before him and said, “I am glad you have
come. I feared you had forgotten me. You wish to be at
73home, do you not?” The trooper said yes, he did. Then
the Crooked One cried into the tree, “Young folks, which
of you is the fleetest?” A voice from the birch replied,
“Father, I can run as fast as a moor-hen flies.” “Well, I
need a fleeter messenger to-day.” A second voice answered,
“I can run like the wind.” “I need a swifter envoy,” said
the father. Then a third voice cried, “I can run like the
thought of man.” “You are after my own heart. Fill a
bag full of gold and take it with my friend and benefactor
to his home.” Then he caught the soldier by the hat, crying,
“The hat to the man, and the man to the house!” The
same moment the soldier felt his hat fly from his head.
When he looked about for it, lo! he was at home in the old
familiar parlour wearing his old peasant clothes, and the
great sack of money stood beside him. Yet on parade and
at the roll-call he was never missed. When the man who
told this story was asked, “Who could the stranger be?” he
answered, “Who but a tree-elf?”[283]
|Tree-spirit represented simultaneously in vegetable and human form.|
There is an instructive class of cases in which the tree-spirit
is represented simultaneously in vegetable form and in
human form, which are set side by side as if for the express
purpose of explaining each other. In these cases the human
representative of the tree-spirit is sometimes a doll or puppet,
sometimes a living person; but whether a puppet or a
person, it is placed beside a tree or bough; so that together
the person or puppet, and the tree or bough, form a sort of
bilingual inscription, the one being, so to speak, a translation
of the other. Here, therefore, there is no room left for doubt
that the spirit of the tree is actually represented in human
form. Thus in Bohemia, on the fourth Sunday in Lent,
young people throw a puppet called Death into the water;
then the girls go into the wood, cut down a young tree, and
fasten to it a puppet dressed in white clothes to look like
a woman; with this tree and puppet they go from house
to house collecting gratuities and singing songs with the
refrain:—
Here, as we shall see later on, the “Summer” is the spirit
of vegetation returning or reviving in spring. In some
parts of our own country children go about asking for pence
with some small imitations of May-poles, and with a finely-dressed
doll which they call the Lady of the May.[285] In
these cases the tree and the puppet are obviously regarded
as equivalent.
|The Little May Rose.|
At Thann, in Alsace, a girl called the Little May Rose,
dressed in white, carries a small May-tree, which is gay with
garlands and ribbons. Her companions collect gifts from
door to door, singing a song:—
“Little May Rose turn round three times,
Let us look at you round and round!
Rose of the May, come to the greenwood away,
We will be merry all.
So we go from the May to the roses.”
In the course of the song a wish is expressed that those
who give nothing may lose their fowls by the marten, that
their vine may bear no clusters, their tree no nuts, their field
no corn; the produce of the year is supposed to depend on
the gifts offered to these May singers.[286] Here and in the
cases mentioned above, where children go about with green
boughs or garlands on May Day singing and collecting money,
the meaning is that with the spirit of vegetation they bring
plenty and good luck to the house, and they expect to be
paid for the service. In Russian Lithuania, on the first of
May, they used to set up a green tree before the village.
Then the rustic swains chose the prettiest girl, crowned
her, swathed her in birch branches and set her beside the
May-tree, where they danced, sang, and shouted “O May!
O May!”[287] In Brie (Isle de France) a May-tree is set up
in the midst of the village; its top is crowned with flowers;
lower down it is twined with leaves and twigs, still lower
with huge green branches. The girls dance round it, and
75at the same time a lad wrapt in leaves and called Father
May is led about.[288] In the small towns of the Franken Wald
|The Walber.|
mountains in Northern Bavaria, on the second of May, a
Walber tree is erected before a tavern, and a man dances
round it, enveloped in straw from head to foot in such a
way that the ears of corn unite above his head to form a
crown. He is called the Walber, and used to be led in
procession through the streets, which were adorned with
sprigs of birch.[289]
|Green George in Carinthia.|
Amongst the Slavs of Carinthia, on St. George’s Day
(the twenty-third of April), the young people deck with flowers
and garlands a tree which has been felled on the eve of the
festival. The tree is then carried in procession, accompanied
with music and joyful acclamations, the chief figure in the procession
being the Green George, a young fellow clad from head
to foot in green birch branches. At the close of the ceremonies
the Green George, that is an effigy of him, is thrown into
the water. It is the aim of the lad who acts Green George
to step out of his leafy envelope and substitute the effigy so
adroitly that no one shall perceive the change. In many
places, however, the lad himself who plays the part of Green
George is ducked in a river or pond, with the express
intention of thus ensuring rain to make the fields and
meadows green in summer. In some places the cattle are
crowned and driven from their stalls to the accompaniment
of a song:—
Here we see that the same powers of making rain and
fostering the cattle, which are ascribed to the tree-spirit
regarded as incorporate in the tree, are also attributed to the
tree-spirit represented by a living man.
|Green George among the gypsies.|
Among the gypsies of Transylvania and Roumania the
76festival of Green George is the chief celebration of spring.
Some of them keep it on Easter Monday, others on St.
George’s Day (the twenty-third of April). On the eve of
the festival a young willow tree is cut down, adorned with
garlands and leaves, and set up in the ground. Women with
child place one of their garments under the tree, and leave
it there over night; if next morning they find a leaf of the
tree lying on the garment, they know that their delivery will
be easy. Sick and old people go to the tree in the evening,
spit on it thrice, and say, “You will soon die, but let us live.”
Next morning the gypsies gather about the willow. The chief
figure of the festival is Green George, a lad who is concealed
from top to toe in green leaves and blossoms. He throws a
few handfuls of grass to the beasts of the tribe, in order that
they may have no lack of fodder throughout the year. Then
he takes three iron nails, which have lain for three days and
nights in water, and knocks them into the willow; after
which he pulls them out and flings them into a running
stream to propitiate the water-spirits. Finally, a pretence is
made of throwing Green George into the water, but in fact
it is only a puppet made of branches and leaves which is
ducked in the stream.[291] In this version of the custom the
powers of granting an easy delivery to women and of communicating
vital energy to the sick and old are clearly
ascribed to the willow; while Green George, the human
double of the tree, bestows food on the cattle, and further
ensures the favour of the water-spirits by putting them in
indirect communication with the tree.
|Double representation of the tree-spirit by tree and man among the Oraons.|
An example of the double representation of the spirit
of vegetation by a tree and a living man is reported from
Bengal. The Oraons have a festival in spring while the
sál-trees are in blossom, because they think that at this time
the marriage of earth is celebrated and the sál flowers are
necessary for the ceremony. On an appointed day the
villagers go with their priest to the Sarna, the sacred grove,
a remnant of the old sál forest in which a goddess Sarna
Burhi, or woman of the grove, is supposed to dwell. She is
thought to have great influence on the rain; and the priest
77arriving with his party at the grove sacrifices to her five
fowls, of which a morsel is given to each person present.
Then they gather the sál flowers and return laden with them
to the village. Next day the priest visits every house,
carrying the flowers in a wide open basket. The women of
each house bring out water to wash his feet as he approaches,
and kneeling make him an obeisance. Then he dances with
them and places some of the sál flowers over the door of
the house and in the women’s hair. No sooner is this done
than the women empty their water-jugs over him, drenching
him to the skin. A feast follows, and the young people,
with sál flowers in their hair, dance all night on the village
green.[292] Here, the equivalence of the flower-bearing priest to
the goddess of the flowering tree comes out plainly. For
she is supposed to influence the rain, and the drenching of
the priest with water is, doubtless, like the ducking of the
Green George in Carinthia and elsewhere, a rain-charm.
Thus the priest, as if he were the tree goddess herself, goes
from door to door dispensing rain and bestowing fruitfulness
on each house, but especially on the women. In some parts
|Double representation of the harvest-goddess Gauri by a bundle of plants and
an unmarried girl.|
of India the harvest-goddess Gauri, the wife of Siva, is represented
both by an unmarried girl and by a bundle of the
wild flowering balsam plant touch-me-not (Impatiens sp.),
which is tied up in a mummy-like figure with a woman’s
mask, dress, and ornaments. Before being removed from the
soil to represent the goddess the plants are worshipped.
The girl is also worshipped. Then the bundle of plants
is carried and the girl who personates the goddess walks
through the rooms of the house, while the supposed footprints
of Gauri herself are imprinted on the floor with red paste.
On entering each room the human representative of Gauri is
asked, “Gauri, Gauri, whither have you come and what do
you see?” and the girl makes appropriate replies. Then
she is given a mouthful of sweets and the mistress of the
house says, “Come with golden feet and stay for ever.” The
plant-formed effigy of Gauri is afterwards worshipped as the
goddess herself and receives offerings of rice-cakes and pancakes.
On the third day it is thrown into a river or tank;
then a handful of pebbles or sand is brought home from the
78spot and thrown all over the house and the trees to bring
good luck to the house and to protect the trees from vermin.
A remarkable feature of the ceremonies is that the goddess
Gauri is supposed to be secretly followed by her husband
Siva, who remains hidden under the fold of her garment and
is represented by a lôṭâ, covered by a coco-nut and filled with
rice, which is carefully measured. After the image of Gauri
has been thrown into the river or tank, the rice in the lôṭâ
representing Siva is carefully measured again, in order to see
whether the quantity has increased or decreased, and according
to the result an abundant or a scanty harvest is prognosticated.[293]
Hence it appears that the whole ritual aims at
ensuring a plentiful crop of rice. In this case the spirit of
vegetation thus represented in duplicate by a living girl and
the effigy of a woman is a harvest goddess, not a tree-spirit,
but the principle is the same.
|W. Mannhardt’s summary of the evidence.|
Without citing more examples to the same effect, we
may sum up the results of the preceding pages in the
words of Mannhardt: “The customs quoted suffice to
establish with certainty the conclusion that in these spring
processions the spirit of vegetation is often represented both
by the May-tree and in addition by a man dressed in green
leaves or flowers or by a girl similarly adorned. It is the
same spirit which animates the tree and is active in the
inferior plants and which we have recognised in the May-tree
and the Harvest-May. Quite consistently the spirit is
also supposed to manifest his presence in the first flower
of spring and reveals himself both in a girl representing
a May-rose, and also, as giver of harvest, in the person of
the Walber. The procession with this representative of the
divinity was supposed to produce the same beneficial effects
on the fowls, the fruit-trees, and the crops as the presence
of the deity himself. In other words, the mummer was
regarded not as an image but as an actual representative
of the spirit of vegetation; hence the wish expressed by the
attendants on the May-rose and the May-tree that those who
refuse them gifts of eggs, bacon, and so forth, may have no
share in the blessings which it is in the power of the itinerant
79spirit to bestow. We may conclude that these begging processions
with May-trees or May-boughs from door to door
(‘bringing the May or the summer’) had everywhere originally
a serious and, so to speak, sacramental significance;
people really believed that the god of growth was present
unseen in the bough; by the procession he was brought to
each house to bestow his blessing. The names May, Father
May, May Lady, Queen of the May, by which the anthropomorphic
spirit of vegetation is often denoted, shew that the
idea of the spirit of vegetation is blent with a personification
of the season at which his powers are most strikingly
manifested.”[294]
|Tree-spirit or vegetation-spirit represented by a person alone.|
Thus far we have seen that the tree-spirit or the spirit
of vegetation in general is represented either in vegetable
form alone, as by a tree, bough, or flower; or in vegetable
and human form simultaneously, as by a tree, bough, or
flower in combination with a puppet or a living person. It
remains to shew that the representation of him by a tree,
bough, or flower is sometimes entirely dropped, while the
representation of him by a living person remains. In this
case the representative character of the person is generally
marked by dressing him or her in leaves or flowers; sometimes
too it is indicated by the name he or she bears.
|Green George in Russia.|
Thus in some parts of Russia on St. George’s Day (the
twenty-third of April) a youth is dressed out, like our Jack-in-the-Green,
with leaves and flowers. The Slovenes call
him the Green George. Holding a lighted torch in one
hand and a pie in the other, he goes out to the corn-fields,
followed by girls singing appropriate songs. A circle of
brushwood is then lighted, in the middle of which is set the
pie. All who take part in the ceremony then sit down
around the fire and divide the pie among them.[295] In this
custom the Green George dressed in leaves and flowers is
plainly identical with the similarly disguised Green George
who is associated with a tree in the Carinthian, Transylvanian,
and Roumanian customs observed on the same day. Again,
|Whitsuntide customs in Russia.|
we saw that in Russia at Whitsuntide a birch-tree is dressed
80in woman’s clothes and set up in the house. Clearly
equivalent to this is the custom observed on Whit-Monday
by Russian girls in the district of Pinsk. They choose the
prettiest of their number, envelop her in a mass of foliage
taken from the birch-trees and maples, and carry her about
through the village. In a district of Little Russia they take
round a “poplar,” represented by a girl wearing bright
flowers in her hair.[296] At Whitsuntide in Holland poor
women used to go about begging with a little girl called
Whitsuntide Flower (Pinxterbloem, perhaps a kind of iris);
she was decked with flowers and sat in a waggon. In North
Brabant she wears the flowers from which she takes her
name and a song is sung:—
|May customs in France.|
All over Provence on the first of May pretty little girls
are dressed in white, decked with crowns and wreaths of
roses, and set on seats or platforms strewn with flowers
in the streets, while their companions go about begging
coppers for the Mayos or Mayes, as they are called, from the
passers-by.[298] In some parts of the Ardennes on May Day
a small girl, clad in white and wearing a chaplet of flowers
on her head, used to go from house to house with her play-mates,
collecting contributions and singing that it was May,
the month of May, the pretty month of May, that the wheat
was tall, the hawthorn in bloom, and the lark carolling in
the sky.[299]
|The Little Leaf Man.|
In Ruhla (Thüringen) as soon as the trees begin to grow
green in spring, the children assemble on a Sunday and go
out into the woods, where they choose one of their play-mates
to be the Little Leaf Man. They break branches
from the trees and twine them about the child till only his
81shoes peep out from the leafy mantle. Holes are made in
it for him to see through, and two of the children lead the
Little Leaf Man that he may not stumble or fall. Singing
and dancing they take him from house to house, asking for
gifts of food such as eggs, cream, sausages, and cakes.
Lastly, they sprinkle the Leaf Man with water and feast on
the food they have collected.[300] At Röllshausen on the
|Leaf-clad mummers at Whitsuntide.|
Schwalm, in Hesse, when afternoon service is over on Whitsunday,
the schoolboys and schoolgirls go out into the
wood and there clothe a boy from head to foot in leaves so
that nobody would know him. He is called the Little
Whitsuntide Man. A procession is then formed. Two
boys lead their leaf-clad playfellow; two others precede him
with a basket; and two girls with another basket bring up
the rear. Thus they go from house to house singing
hymns or popular songs and collecting eggs and cakes in
the baskets. When they have feasted on these, they strip
their comrade of his verdant envelope on an open place in
front of the village.[301] In some parts of Rhenish Bavaria at
Whitsuntide a boy or lad is swathed in the yellow blossom
of the broom, the dark green twigs of the firs, and other
foliage. Thus attired he is known as the Quack and goes
from door to door, whirling about in the dance, while an
appropriate song is chanted and his companions levy
contributions.[302] In the Fricktal, Switzerland, at Whitsuntide
boys go out into a wood and swathe one of their number in
leafy boughs. He is called the Whitsuntide-lout (Pfingstlümmel),
and being mounted on horseback with a green
branch in his hand he is led back into the village. At the
village-well a halt is called and the leaf-clad lout is dismounted
and ducked in the trough. Thereby he acquires
the right of sprinkling water on everybody, and he exercises
the right specially on girls and street urchins. The urchins
82march before him in bands begging him to give them a
Whitsuntide wetting.[303]
|Jack-in-the-Green in England.|
In England the best-known example of these leaf-clad
mummers is the Jack-in-the-Green, a chimney-sweeper who
walks encased in a pyramidal framework of wickerwork,
which is covered with holly and ivy, and surmounted by a
crown of flowers and ribbons. Thus arrayed he dances on
May Day at the head of a troop of chimney-sweeps, who
collect pence.[304] The ceremony was witnessed at Cheltenham
on the second of May 1892, by Dr. W. H. D. Rouse, who
has described in detail the costume of the performers. They
were all chimney-sweeps of the town. Jack-in-the-Green or
the Bush-carrier was enclosed in a wooden framework on
which leaves were fastened so as to make a thick cone about
six feet high, topped with a crown, which consisted of two
wooden hoops placed crosswise and covered with flowers.
The leafy envelope was unbroken except for a single opening
through which peered the face of the mummer. From
time to time in their progress through the streets the performers
halted, and three of them, dressed in red, blue,
and yellow respectively, tripped lightly round the leaf-covered
man to the inspiring strains of a fiddle and a tin
whistle on which two of their comrades with blackened faces
discoursed sweet music. The leader of the procession was a
clown fantastically clad in a long white pinafore or blouse
with coloured fringes and frills, and wearing on his head a
beaver hat of the familiar pattern, the crown of which hung
loose and was adorned with ribbons and a bird or a bundle
of feathers. Large black rings surrounded his eyes, and a
red dab over mouth and chin lent a pleasing variety to his
countenance. He contributed to the public hilarity by
flapping the yellow fringe of his blouse with quaint gestures
and occasionally fanning himself languidly. His efforts
were seconded by another performer, who wore a red fool’s
cap, all stuck with flowers, and a white pinafore enriched
with black human figures in front and a black gridiron-like
pattern, crossed diagonally by a red bar, at the back. Two
83boys in white pinafores, with similar figures, or stars, on the
breast, and a fish on the back, completed the company.
Formerly there used to be a man in woman’s clothes, who
personated the clown’s wife.[305] In some parts also of France
a young fellow is encased in a wicker framework covered
with leaves and is led about.[306] In Frickthal, in the Swiss
|The Whitsuntide Basket in Switzerland.|
canton of Aargau, a similar frame of basketwork is called
the Whitsuntide Basket. As soon as the trees begin to bud,
a spot is chosen in the wood, and here the village lads make
the frame with all secrecy, lest others should forestall them.
Leafy branches are twined round two hoops, one of which
rests on the shoulders of the wearer, the other encircles his
calves; holes are made for his eyes and mouth; and a large
nosegay crowns the whole. In this guise he appears suddenly
in the village at the hour of vespers, preceded by three boys
blowing on horns made of willow bark. The great object
of his supporters is to set up the Whitsuntide Basket on
the village well, and to keep it and him there, despite the
efforts of the lads from neighbouring villages, who seek to
carry off the Whitsuntide Basket and set it up on their own
well.[307] In the neighbourhood of Ertingen (Würtemberg) a
|The Lazy Man in Würtemberg.|
masker of the same sort, known as the Lazy Man (Latzmann),
goes about the village on Midsummer Day; he is hidden
under a great pyramidal or conical frame of wickerwork,
ten or twelve feet high, which is completely covered with
sprigs of fir. He has a bell which he rings as he goes, and
he is attended by a suite of persons dressed up in character—a
footman, a colonel, a butcher, an angel, the devil, the
doctor, and so on. They march in Indian file and halt before
every house, where each of them speaks in character, except
the Lazy Man, who says nothing. With what they get by
begging from door to door they hold a feast.[308]
In the class of cases of which the foregoing are specimens
it is obvious that the leaf-clad person who is led about is
84equivalent to the May-tree, May-bough, or May-doll, which is
carried from house to house by children begging. Both are
representatives of the beneficent spirit of vegetation, whose
visit to the house is recompensed by a present of money or
food.
|Leaf-clad representative of vegetation sometimes called a King or Queen.|
Often the leaf-clad person who represents the spirit of
vegetation is known as the king or the queen; thus, for
example, he or she is called the May King, Whitsuntide
King, Queen of May, and so on. These titles, as Mannhardt
observes, imply that the spirit incorporate in vegetation
is a ruler, whose creative power extends far and wide.[309]
|May-Kings at Whitsuntide in Germany and Bohemia.|
In a village near Salzwedel a May-tree is set up at
Whitsuntide and the boys race to it; he who reaches it first
is king; a garland of flowers is put round his neck and in
his hand he carries a May-bush, with which, as the procession
moves along, he sweeps away the dew. At each
house they sing a song, wishing the inmates good luck,
referring to the “black cow in the stall milking white milk,
black hen on the nest laying white eggs,” and begging a gift
of eggs, bacon, and so on.[310] At the village of Ellgoth in
Silesia a ceremony called the King’s Race is observed at
Whitsuntide. A pole with a cloth tied to it is set up in a
meadow, and the young men ride past it on horseback, each
trying to snatch away the cloth as he gallops by. The one
who succeeds in carrying it off and dipping it in the neighbouring
Oder is proclaimed King.[311] Here the pole is clearly
a substitute for a May-tree. In some villages of Brunswick
at Whitsuntide a May King is completely enveloped in a May-bush.
In some parts of Thüringen also they have a May
King at Whitsuntide, but he is dressed up rather differently.
A frame of wood is made in which a man can stand; it is
completely covered with birch boughs and is surmounted
by a crown of birch and flowers, in which a bell is fastened.
This frame is placed in the wood and the May King gets
into it. The rest go out and look for him, and when they
have found him they lead him back into the village to the
magistrate, the clergyman, and others, who have to guess
85who is in the verdurous frame. If they guess wrong, the
May King rings his bell by shaking his head, and a forfeit
of beer or the like must be paid by the unsuccessful guesser.[312]
At Wahrstedt in Brunswick the boys at Whitsuntide choose
by lot a king and a high-steward (füstje-meier). The latter
is completely concealed in a May-bush, wears a wooden
crown wreathed with flowers, and carries a wooden sword.
The king, on the other hand, is only distinguished by a
nosegay in his cap, and a reed, with a red ribbon tied to it,
in his hand. They beg for eggs from house to house,
threatening that, where none are given, none will be laid
by the hens throughout the year. In this custom the high-steward
appears, for some reason, to have usurped the
insignia of the king.[313] At Hildesheim, in Hanover, five or
six young fellows go about on the afternoon of Whit-Monday
cracking long whips in measured time and collecting
eggs from the houses. The chief person of the band is the
|The Leaf King.|
Leaf King, a lad swathed so completely in birchen twigs
that nothing of him can be seen but his feet. A huge head-dress
of birchen twigs adds to his apparent stature. In his
hand he carries a long crook, with which he tries to catch
stray dogs and children.[314] In some parts of Bohemia on
Whit-Monday the young fellows disguise themselves in tall
caps of birch bark adorned with flowers. One of them is
dressed as a king and dragged on a sledge to the village
green, and if on the way they pass a pool the sledge is
always overturned into it. Arrived at the green they gather
round the king; the crier jumps on a stone or climbs up
a tree and recites lampoons about each house and its
inmates. Afterwards the disguises of bark are stripped
off and they go about the village in holiday attire, carrying
a May-tree and begging. Cakes, eggs, and corn are sometimes
given them.[315] At Grossvargula, near Langensalza, in
|The Grass King.|
the eighteenth century a Grass King used to be led about
in procession at Whitsuntide. He was encased in a pyramid
86of poplar branches, the top of which was adorned with a
royal crown of branches and flowers. He rode on horseback
with the leafy pyramid over him, so that its lower end
touched the ground, and an opening was left in it only for
his face. Surrounded by a cavalcade of young fellows, he
rode in procession to the town hall, the parsonage, and so on,
where they all got a drink of beer. Then under the seven
lindens of the neighbouring Sommerberg, the Grass King
was stripped of his green casing; the crown was handed to
the Mayor, and the branches were stuck in the flax fields in
order to make the flax grow tall.[316] In this last trait the
fertilising influence ascribed to the representative of the tree-spirit
comes out clearly. In the neighbourhood of Pilsen
(Bohemia) a conical hut of green branches, without any door,
is erected at Whitsuntide in the midst of the village. To
this hut rides a troop of village lads with a king at their
head. He wears a sword at his side and a sugar-loaf hat of
rushes on his head. In his train are a judge, a crier, and a
personage called the Frog-flayer or Hangman. This last is
a sort of ragged merryandrew, wearing a rusty old sword and
bestriding a sorry hack. On reaching the hut the crier
dismounts and goes round it looking for a door. Finding
none, he says, “Ah, this is perhaps an enchanted castle;
the witches creep through the leaves and need no door.”
At last he draws his sword and hews his way into the hut,
where there is a chair, on which he seats himself and proceeds
to criticise in rhyme the girls, farmers, and farm-servants
of the neighbourhood. When this is over, the
Frog-flayer steps forward and, after exhibiting a cage with
frogs in it, sets up a gallows on which he hangs the frogs in
a row.[317] In the neighbourhood of Plas the ceremony differs
in some points. The king and his soldiers are completely
clad in bark, adorned with flowers and ribbons; they all
carry swords and ride horses, which are gay with green
branches and flowers. While the village dames and girls
are being criticised at the arbour, a frog is secretly pinched
and poked by the crier till it quacks. Sentence of death is
87passed on the frog by the king; the hangman beheads it
and flings the bleeding body among the spectators. Lastly,
the king is driven from the hut and pursued by the soldiers.[318]
The pinching and beheading of the frog are doubtless, as
Mannhardt observes,[319] a rain-charm. We have seen that
some Indians of the Orinoco beat frogs for the express
purpose of producing rain, and that killing a frog is a
European rain-charm.[320]
|May-Queens and Whitsuntide Queens.|
Often the spirit of vegetation in spring is represented
by a queen instead of a king. In the neighbourhood of
Libchowic (Bohemia), on the fourth Sunday in Lent, girls
dressed in white and wearing the first spring flowers, as
violets and daisies, in their hair, lead about the village a girl
who is called the Queen and is crowned with flowers. During
the procession, which is conducted with great solemnity,
none of the girls may stand still, but must keep whirling
round continually and singing. In every house the Queen
announces the arrival of spring and wishes the inmates good
luck and blessings, for which she receives presents.[321] In
German Hungary the girls choose the prettiest girl to be
their Whitsuntide Queen, fasten a towering wreath on her
brow, and carry her singing through the streets. At every
house they stop, sing old ballads, and receive presents.[322] In
the south-east of Ireland on May Day the prettiest girl used
to be chosen Queen of the district for twelve months. She
was crowned with wild flowers; feasting, dancing, and rustic
sports followed, and were closed by a grand procession in
the evening. During her year of office she presided over
rural gatherings of young people at dances and merry-makings.
If she married before next May Day, her
authority was at an end, but her successor was not elected
till that day came round.[323] The May Queen is common in
France[324] and familiar in England. Thus at the adjoining
88|The May Queen in Warwickshire.|
villages of Cherrington and Stourton in south Warwickshire,
the Queen of May is still represented on May Day by a
small girl dressed in white and wearing a wreath of flowers
on her head. An older girl wheels the Queen in what is
called a mail-cart, that is, a child’s perambulator on two
wheels. Another girl carries a money-box. Four boys bear
the May-pole, a conical framework formed of a high tripod
with a central shaft. The whole structure is encased in a
series of five hoops, which rise one above the other, diminishing
in size from bottom to top with the tapering of the cone.
The hoops, as well as the tripod and the central shaft, are
all covered with whatever flowers happen to be in bloom,
such as marsh-marigolds, primroses, or blue-bells. To the
top of the central shaft is fastened a bunch of the flower
called crown-imperial, if it is in season. The lowest hoop is
crossed by two bars at right angles to each other, and the
projecting ends of the bars serve as handles, by which the
four boys carry the May-pole. Each of the bearers has a
garland of flowers slung over his shoulder. Thus the children
go from house to house, singing their songs and receiving
money, which goes to provide a treat for them in the afternoon.[325]
|Spirit of vegetation represented simultaneously by a King and
Queen or a Bridegroom and Bride.|
Again the spirit of vegetation is sometimes represented
by a king and queen, a lord and lady, or a bridegroom
and bride. Here again the parallelism holds between the
anthropomorphic and the vegetable representation of the
tree-spirit, for we have seen above that trees are sometimes
married to each other.[326] At Halford in south Warwickshire
the children go from house to house on May Day,
|Whitsuntide King and Queen.|
walking two and two in procession and headed by a King
and Queen. Two boys carry a May-pole some six or seven
feet high, which is covered with flowers and greenery.
Fastened to it near the top are two cross-bars at right angles
to each other. These are also decked with flowers, and from
89the ends of the bars hang hoops similarly adorned. At the
houses the children sing May songs and receive money,
which is used to provide tea for them at the school-house
in the afternoon.[327] In a Bohemian village near
Königgrätz on Whit-Monday the children play the king’s
game, at which a king and queen march about under a
canopy, the queen wearing a garland, and the youngest girl
carrying two wreaths on a plate behind them. They are
attended by boys and girls called groomsmen and bridesmaids,
and they go from house to house collecting gifts.[328]
A regular feature in the popular celebration of Whitsuntide
in Silesia used to be, and to some extent still is, the contest
for the kingship. This contest took various forms, but the
mark or goal was generally the May-tree or May-pole.
Sometimes the youth who succeeded in climbing the smooth
pole and bringing down the prize was proclaimed the Whitsuntide
King and his sweetheart the Whitsuntide Bride.
Afterwards the king, carrying the May-bush, repaired with
the rest of the company to the ale-house, where a dance and
a feast ended the merry-making. Often the young farmers
and labourers raced on horseback to the May-pole, which
was adorned with flowers, ribbons, and a crown. He who
first reached the pole was the Whitsuntide King, and the
rest had to obey his orders for that day. The worst rider
became the clown. At the May-tree all dismounted and
hoisted the king on their shoulders. He nimbly swarmed
up the pole and brought down the May-bush and the crown,
which had been fastened to the top. Meantime the clown
hurried to the ale-house and proceeded to bolt thirty rolls of
bread and to swig four quart bottles of brandy with the utmost
possible despatch. He was followed by the king, who bore the
May-bush and crown at the head of the company. If on their
arrival the clown had already disposed of the rolls and the
brandy, and greeted the king with a speech and a glass of beer,
his score was paid by the king; otherwise he had to settle it
himself. After church time the stately procession wound
through the village. At the head of it rode the king, decked
90with flowers and carrying the May-bush. Next came the
clown with his clothes turned inside out, a great flaxen beard
on his chin, and the Whitsuntide crown on his head. Two
riders disguised as guards followed. The procession drew
up before every farmyard; the two guards dismounted, shut
the clown into the house, and claimed a contribution from
the housewife to buy soap with which to wash the clown’s
beard. Custom allowed them to carry off any victuals which
were not under lock and key. Last of all they came to the
house in which the king’s sweetheart lived. She was greeted
as Whitsuntide Queen and received suitable presents—to
wit, a many-coloured sash, a cloth, and an apron. The king
got as a prize, a vest, a neckcloth, and so forth, and had the
right of setting up the May-bush or Whitsuntide-tree before
his master’s yard, where it remained as an honourable token
till the same day next year. Finally the procession took
its way to the tavern, where the king and queen opened
the dance. Sometimes the Whitsuntide King and Queen
succeeded to office in a different way. A man of straw, as
|King and Queen of May.|
large as life and crowned with a red cap, was conveyed in a
cart, between two men armed and disguised as guards, to a
place where a mock court was waiting to try him. A great
crowd followed the cart. After a formal trial the straw man
was condemned to death and fastened to a stake on the
execution ground. The young men with bandaged eyes
tried to stab him with a spear. He who succeeded became
king and his sweetheart queen. The straw man was known
as the Goliath.[329] Near Grenoble, in France, a king and
queen are chosen on the first of May and are set on a
throne for all to see.[330] At Headington, near Oxford, children
used to carry garlands from door to door on May Day.
Each garland was borne by two girls, and they were followed
by a lord and lady—a boy and girl linked together by a
white handkerchief, of which each held an end, and dressed
with ribbons, sashes, and flowers. At each door they sang
a verse:—
91“Gentlemen and ladies,
We wish you happy May;
We come to shew you a garland,
Because it is May-day.”
On receiving money the lord put his arm about his
lady’s waist and kissed her.[331] At Fleuriers in Switzerland
on the seventh of May 1843 a May-bridegroom (Époux de
Mai) and his bride were escorted in a procession of over two
hundred children, some of whom carried green branches of
beech. A number of May Fools were entrusted with the
delicate duty of going round with the hat. The proceeds of
their tact and industry furnished a banquet in the evening, and
the day ended with a children’s ball.[332] In some Saxon villages
at Whitsuntide a lad and a lass used to disguise themselves and
hide in the bushes or high grass outside the village. Then
the whole village went out with music “to seek the bridal
pair.” When they found the couple they all gathered round
them, the music struck up, and the bridal pair was led
merrily to the village. In the evening they danced. In
some places the bridal pair was called the prince and the
princess.[333]
|Whitsuntide Bridegroom and Bride in Denmark.|
In a parish of Denmark it used to be the custom at
Whitsuntide to dress up a little girl as the Whitsun-bride
(pinse-bruden) and a little boy as her groom. She was
decked in all the finery of a grown-up bride, and wore a
crown of the freshest flowers of spring on her head. Her
groom was as gay as flowers, ribbons, and knots could make
him. The other children adorned themselves as best they
could with the yellow flowers of the trollius and caltha.
Then they went in great state from farmhouse to farmhouse,
two little girls walking at the head of the procession as
bridesmaids, and six or eight outriders galloping ahead
on hobby-horses to announce their coming. Contributions
92of eggs, butter, loaves, cream, coffee, sugar, and tallow-candles
were received and conveyed away in baskets.
When they had made the round of the farms, some of
the farmers’ wives helped to arrange the wedding feast,
and the children danced merrily in clogs on the stamped
clay floor till the sun rose and the birds began to sing.
All this is now a thing of the past. Only the old folks
still remember the little Whitsun-bride and her mimic
pomp.[334]
|Midsummer Bridegroom and Bride in Sweden and Norway.|
We have seen that in Sweden the ceremonies associated
elsewhere with May Day or Whitsuntide commonly take
place at Midsummer.[335] Accordingly we find that in some
parts of the Swedish province of Blekinge they still choose a
Midsummer’s Bride, to whom the “church coronet” is occasionally
lent. The girl selects for herself a Bridegroom, and
a collection is made for the pair, who for the time being are
looked on as man and wife. The other youths also choose
each his bride.[336] A similar ceremony seems to be still kept
up in Norway, for a correspondent writes to me as follows in
reference to the Danish custom of the Whitsun-bride: “It
may interest you to know that on June 23, 1893, I witnessed
at Ullensvang, Hardanger, Norway, a ceremony almost
exactly the same as that described in your book. Wild
flowers are scarce there, and the bride wore the usual metal
crown, the attendants for the most part wearing the pretty
Hardanger costume. The dancing took place in an unlighted
barn, as the farmer was afraid of fire. There were
plenty of boys at the dance, but so far as I can remember,
none in the procession. The custom is clearly dying out,
and the somewhat reluctant bridegroom was the subject of
a good deal of chaff from his fellows.”[337] In Sardinia the
Midsummer couples are known as the Sweethearts of St. John,
and their association with the growth of plants is
clearly brought out by the pots of sprouting grain which
form a principal part of the ceremony.[338]
|Forsaken Bridegroom or Bride of May or Whitsuntide.|
In the neighbourhood of Briançon (Dauphiné) on May
93Day the lads wrap up in green leaves a young fellow whose
sweetheart has deserted him or married another. He lies
down on the ground and feigns to be asleep. Then a girl
who likes him, and would marry him, comes and wakes him,
and raising him up offers him her arm and a flag. So they
go to the alehouse, where the pair lead off the dancing. But
they must marry within the year, or they are treated as old
bachelor and old maid, and are debarred the company of the
young folk. The lad is called the bridegroom of the month
of May (le fiancé du mois de May). In the alehouse he puts
off his garment of leaves, out of which, mixed with flowers,
his partner in the dance makes a nosegay, and wears it at
her breast next day, when he leads her again to the alehouse.[339]
Like this is a Russian custom observed in the district of
Nerechta on the Thursday before Whitsunday. The girls
go out into a birch-wood, wind a girdle or band round a
stately birch, twist its lower branches into a wreath, and kiss
each other in pairs through the wreath. The girls who kiss
through the wreath call each other gossips. Then one of
the girls steps forward, and mimicking a drunken man, flings
herself on the ground, rolls on the grass, and feigns to fall
fast asleep. Another girl wakens the pretended sleeper and
kisses him; then the whole bevy trips singing through the
wood to twine garlands, which they throw into the water.
In the fate of the garlands floating on the stream they read
their own.[340] Here the part of the sleeper was probably at
one time played by a lad. In these French and Russian
customs we have a forsaken bridegroom, in the following a
forsaken bride. On Shrove Tuesday the Slovenes of Oberkrain
drag a straw puppet with joyous cries up and down
the village; then they throw it into the water or burn it, and
from the height of the flames they judge of the abundance of
the next harvest. The noisy crew is followed by a female
masker, who drags a great board by a string and gives out
that she is a forsaken bride.[341]
Viewed in the light of what has gone before, the
awakening of the forsaken sleeper in these ceremonies probably
94represents the revival of vegetation in spring. But it
is not easy to assign their respective parts to the forsaken
bridegroom and to the girl who wakes him from his slumber.
Is the sleeper the leafless forest or the bare earth of winter?
Is the girl who wakens him the fresh verdure or the genial
sunshine of spring? It is hardly possible, on the evidence
before us, to answer these questions. The Oraons of Bengal,
it may be remembered, celebrate the marriage of earth in the
springtime, when the sál-tree is in blossom.[342] But from this
we can hardly argue that in the European ceremonies the
sleeping bridegroom is “the dreaming earth” and the girl
the spring blossoms.
|St. Bride in Scotland and the Isle of Man.|
In the Highlands of Scotland the revival of vegetation
in spring used to be graphically represented on St. Bride’s
Day, the first of February. Thus in the Hebrides “the
mistress and servants of each family take a sheaf of oats, and
dress it up in women’s apparel, put it in a large basket, and
lay a wooden club by it, and this they call Briid’s bed; and
then the mistress and servants cry three times, ‘Briid is
come, Briid is welcome.’ This they do just before going to
bed, and when they rise in the morning they look among
the ashes, expecting to see the impression of Briid’s club
there; which if they do, they reckon it a true presage of a
good crop and prosperous year, and the contrary they take
as an ill omen.”[343] The same custom is described by another
witness thus: “Upon the night before Candlemas it is usual
to make a bed with corn and hay, over which some blankets
are laid, in a part of the house, near the door. When it is
ready, a person goes out and repeats three times, ...
‘Bridget, Bridget, come in; thy bed is ready.’ One or more
candles are left burning near it all night.”[344] Similarly in the
95Isle of Man “on the eve of the first of February, a festival
was formerly kept, called, in the Manks language, Laa’l
Breeshey, in honour of the Irish lady who went over to the
Isle of Man to receive the veil from St. Maughold. The
custom was to gather a bundle of green rushes, and standing
with them in the hand on the threshold of the door, to invite
the holy Saint Bridget to come and lodge with them that
night. In the Manks language, the invitation ran thus:—‘Brede,
Brede, tar gys my thie tar dyn thie ayms noght.
Foshil jee yn dorrys da Brede, as lhig da Brede e heet staigh.’
In English: ‘Bridget, Bridget, come to my house, come to
my house to-night. Open the door for Bridget, and let
Bridget come in.’ After these words were repeated, the
rushes were strewn on the floor by way of a carpet or bed
for St. Bridget. A custom very similar to this was also
observed in some of the Out-Isles of the ancient kingdom of
Man.”[345] In these Manx and Highland ceremonies it is
obvious that St. Bride, or St. Bridget, is an old heathen
goddess of fertility, disguised in a threadbare Christian cloak.
Probably she is no other than the Celtic goddess Brigit, who
will meet us again later on.[346]
|May Bride or Whitsuntide Bride.|
Often the marriage of the spirit of vegetation in spring,
though not directly represented, is implied by naming the
human representative of the spirit, “the Bride,” and dressing
her in wedding attire. Thus in some villages of Altmark at
Whitsuntide, while the boys go about carrying a May-tree
or leading a boy enveloped in leaves and flowers, the girls
lead about the May Bride, a girl dressed as a bride with a
great nosegay in her hair. They go from house to house,
the May Bride singing a song in which she asks for a
present, and tells the inmates of each house that if they
give her something they will themselves have something the
96whole year through; but if they give her nothing they will
themselves have nothing.[347] In some parts of Westphalia
two girls lead a flower-crowned girl called the Whitsuntide
Bride from door to door, singing a song in which they ask
for eggs.[348] At Waggum in Brunswick, when service is over
on Whitsunday, the village girls assemble, dressed in white
or bright colours, decked with flowers, and wearing chaplets
of spring flowers in their hair. One of them represents the
May Bride, and carries a crown of flowers on a staff as a
sign of her dignity. As usual the children go about from
cottage to cottage singing and begging for eggs, sausages,
cakes, or money. In other parts of Brunswick it is a boy
clothed all in birch leaves who personates the May Bride.[349]
In Bresse in the month of May a girl called la Mariée is
tricked out with ribbons and nosegays and is led about by a
gallant. She is preceded by a lad carrying a green May-tree,
and appropriate verses are sung.[350]
CHAPTER XI THE INFLUENCE OF THE SEXES ON VEGETATION
97
|The marriage of the King and Queen of May intended to promote
the growth of vegetation by homoeopathic magic.|
From the preceding examination of the spring and summer
festivals of Europe we may infer that our rude forefathers
personified the powers of vegetation as male and female, and
attempted, on the principle of homoeopathic or imitative
magic, to quicken the growth of trees and plants by representing
the marriage of the sylvan deities in the persons of
a King and Queen of May, a Whitsun Bridegroom and
Bride, and so forth. Such representations were accordingly
no mere symbolic or allegorical dramas, pastoral plays
designed to amuse or instruct a rustic audience. They were
charms intended to make the woods to grow green, the fresh
grass to sprout, the corn to shoot, and the flowers to blow.
And it was natural to suppose that the more closely the
mock marriage of the leaf-clad or flower-decked mummers
aped the real marriage of the woodland sprites, the more
effective would be the charm. Accordingly we may assume
with a high degree of probability that the profligacy
which notoriously attended these ceremonies[351] was at one
time not an accidental excess but an essential part of the
rites, and that in the opinion of those who performed them
the marriage of trees and plants could not be fertile without
the real union of the human sexes. At the present day it
might perhaps be vain to look in civilised Europe for
customs of this sort observed for the explicit purpose of
promoting the growth of vegetation. But ruder races in
other parts of the world have consciously employed the
intercourse of the sexes as a means to ensure the fruitfulness
98of the earth; and some rites which are still, or were till
lately, kept up in Europe can be reasonably explained only
as stunted relics of a similar practice. The following facts
will make this plain.
|Intercourse of the sexes practised in order to make the crops grow.|
For four days before they committed the seed to the earth
the Pipiles of Central America kept apart from their wives
“in order that on the night before planting they might indulge
their passions to the fullest extent; certain persons are even
said to have been appointed to perform the sexual act at the
very moment when the first seeds were deposited in the
ground.” The use of their wives at that time was indeed
enjoined upon the people by the priests as a religious duty,
in default of which it was not lawful to sow the seed.[352] The
only possible explanation of this custom seems to be that
the Indians confused the process by which human beings reproduce
their kind with the process by which plants discharge
the same function, and fancied that by resorting to the former
they were simultaneously forwarding the latter. In the
month of December, when the alligator pears begin to ripen,
the Indians of Peru used to hold a festival called Acatay mita
in order to make the fruit grow mellow. The festival lasted
five days and nights, and was preceded by a fast of five days
during which they ate neither salt nor pepper and refrained
from their wives. At the festival men and boys assembled
stark naked in an open space among the orchards, and ran
from there to a distant hill. Any woman whom they overtook
on the way they violated.[353] In some parts of Java, at
the season when the bloom will soon be on the rice, the
husbandman and his wife visit their fields by night and there
engage in sexual intercourse for the purpose of promoting
the growth of the crop.[354] In the Leti, Sarmata, and some
other groups of islands which lie between the western end of
New Guinea and the northern part of Australia, the heathen
population regard the sun as the male principle by whom
99the earth or female principle is fertilised. They call him
Upu-lera or Mr. Sun, and represent him under the form
of a lamp made of coco-nut leaves, which may be seen
hanging everywhere in their houses and in the sacred fig-tree.
Under the tree lies a large flat stone, which serves as a
sacrificial table. On it the heads of slain foes were and are
still placed in some of the islands. Once a year, at the
beginning of the rainy season, Mr. Sun comes down into the
holy fig-tree to fertilise the earth, and to facilitate his descent
a ladder with seven rungs is considerately placed at his disposal.
It is set up under the tree and is adorned with carved
figures of the birds whose shrill clarion heralds the approach
of the sun in the East. On this occasion pigs and dogs are
sacrificed in profusion; men and women alike indulge in a
saturnalia; and the mystic union of the sun and the earth is
dramatically represented in public, amid song and dance, by
the real union of the sexes under the tree. The object of
the festival, we are told, is to procure rain, plenty of food
and drink, abundance of cattle and children and riches from
Grandfather Sun. They pray that he may make every she-goat
to cast two or three young, the people to multiply, the
dead pigs to be replaced by living pigs, the empty rice-baskets
to be filled, and so on. And to induce him to grant
their requests they offer him pork and rice and liquor, and
invite him to fall to. In the Babar Islands a special flag is
hoisted at this festival as a symbol of the creative energy
of the sun; it is of white cotton, about nine feet high, and
consists of the figure of a man in an appropriate attitude.[355]100Among the Tangkhuls of Manipur, before the rice is sown
and when it is reaped, the boys and girls have a tug-of-war
with a tough rope of twisted creeper. Great jars of beer are
set ready, and the strictness of their ordinary morality is
broken by a night of unbridled licence.[356] It would be unjust
to treat these orgies as a mere outburst of unbridled passion;
no doubt they are deliberately and solemnly organised as
essential to the fertility of the earth and the welfare of man.
|Intercourse of the sexes practised in order to make trees bear fruit.|
The same means which are thus adopted to stimulate the
growth of the crops are naturally employed to ensure the
fruitfulness of trees. The work known as The Agriculture
of the Nabataeans contained apparently a direction that the
grafting of a tree upon another tree of a different sort should
be done by a damsel, who at the very moment of inserting
the graft in the bough should herself be subjected to
treatment which can only be regarded as a direct copy of the
operation she was performing on the tree.[357] In some parts
of Amboyna, when the state of the clove plantation indicates
that the crop is likely to be scanty, the men go naked to the
plantations by night, and there seek to fertilise the trees
precisely as they would impregnate women, while at the same
time they call out for “More cloves!” This is supposed to
make the trees bear fruit more abundantly.[358] In Java when
a palm tree is to be tapped for wine, the man who proposes
to relieve the tree of its superfluous juices deems it
necessary to approach the palm in the character of a lover
and a husband, as well as of a son. When he comes upon a
palm which he thinks suitable, he will not begin cutting at
the trunk until he has intimated as delicately as he can the
reasons which lead him to perform that surgical operation, and
101the ardent affection which he cherishes for the tree. For
this purpose he holds a dialogue with the palm, in which he
naturally speaks in the character of the tree as well as in his
own. “O mother endang-reni!” he begins, “for the sake of
you I have let myself be drenched by the rain and scorched
by the sun; long have I sought you! Now at last have I
found you. How ardently have I longed for you! Often
before have you given me the breast. Yet I still thirst.
Therefore now I ask for four potfuls more.” “Well, fair
youth,” replies the tree, “I have always been here. What
is the reason that you have sought me?” “The reason I
have sought you is that I have heard you suffer from incontinentia
urinae.” “So I do,” says the tree. “Will you marry
me?” says the man. “That I will,” says the tree, “but first
you must plight your troth and recite the usual confession of
faith.” On that the man takes a rattan leaf and wraps it
round the palm as a pledge of betrothal, after which he says
the creed: “There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is
his prophet.” The maidenly and orthodox scruples of the
tree having thus been satisfied, he embraces it as his bride.
At first he attaches only a small dish to the trunk to receive
the juices which exude from the cut in the bark; a large dish
might frighten the tree. In fastening the dish to the palm
he says, “Bok-endang-reni! your child is languishing away
for thirst. He asks you for a drink.” The tree replies,
“Let him slake his thirst! Mother’s breasts are full to overflowing.”[359]
We have already seen that in some parts of
Northern India a mock marriage between two actors is
performed in honour of a newly-planted orchard,[360] no doubt
for the purpose of making it bear fruit. In the Nicobar
Islands a pregnant woman is taken into the gardens in
order to impart the blessing of fertility to the plants.[361]
|In Uganda parents of twins are supposed to fertilise the plantains.|
The Baganda of Central Africa believe so strongly in
102the intimate relation between the intercourse of the sexes
and the fertility of the ground that among them a barren
wife is generally sent away because she is supposed to prevent
her husband’s garden from bearing fruit. On the
contrary, a couple who have given proof of extraordinary
fertility by becoming the parents of twins are believed by
the Baganda to be endowed with a corresponding power of
increasing the fruitfulness of the plantain-trees, which furnish
them with their staple food. Some little time after the
birth of the twins a ceremony is performed, the object of
which clearly is to transmit the reproductive virtue of the
parents to the plantains. The mother lies down on her
back in the thick grass near the house and places a flower of
the plantain between her legs; then her husband comes and
knocks the flower away with his genital member. Further,
the parents go through the country, performing dances in
the gardens of favoured friends, apparently for the purpose
of causing the plantain-trees to bear fruit more abundantly.
The same belief in the fertilising power of such parents probably
explains why in Uganda the father of twins is inviolable
and may go into anybody’s garden and take the produce at
will. To distinguish him from the common herd his hair is
cut in a special way, and he wears little bells at his ankles
which tinkle as he walks. His sacred character is further
manifested by a rule which he must observe after the round
of visits has been paid, and the dances in the gardens are
over. He has to remain at home until the next time that
the army goes forth to battle, and in the interval he may
neither dress his hair nor cut his finger-nails. When war
has been proclaimed, his whole body is shaved and his nails
cut. The clipped hair and nails he ties up in a ball, which
he takes with him to the war, along with the bark cloth
which he wore at the dances. When he has killed a foe, he
crams the ball into the dead man’s mouth, ties the bark-cloth
round his neck, and leaves them there on the battlefield.[362]
Apparently the ceremony is intended to rid him of
103the peculiar sanctity or state of taboo which he contracted
by the birth of twins, and to facilitate his return to ordinary
life. For, to the mind of the savage, as we shall see later
on, sanctity has its dangers and inconveniences, and the
sacred man may often be glad to divest himself of it by
stripping himself of those separable parts of his person—the
hair and nails—to which the holy contagion is apt to cling.
|Relics of similar customs in Europe.|
In various parts of Europe customs have prevailed both
at spring and harvest which are clearly based on the same
crude notion that the relation of the human sexes to each
other can be so used as to quicken the growth of plants.
For example, in the Ukraine on St. George’s Day (the
twenty-third of April) the priest in his robes, attended by
his acolytes, goes out to the fields of the village, where the
crops are beginning to shew green above the ground, and
blesses them. After that the young married people lie
down in couples on the sown fields and roll several times
over on them, in the belief that this will promote the growth
of the crops. In some parts of Russia the priest himself is
rolled by women over the sprouting crop, and that without
regard to the mud and holes which he may encounter in his
beneficent progress. If the shepherd resists or remonstrates,
his flock murmurs, “Little Father, you do not really wish
us well, you do not wish us to have corn, although you
do wish to live on our corn.”[363] In England it seems to
have been customary for young couples to roll down a
slope together on May Day; on Greenwich-hill the custom
was practised at Easter and Whitsuntide,[364] as it was till
lately practised near Dublin on Whitmonday.[365] When
we consider how closely these seasons, especially May Day
and Whitsuntide, are associated with ceremonies for the
revival of plant life in spring, we shall scarcely doubt
that the custom of rolling in couples at such times had
originally the same significance which it still has in Russia;
104and when further we compare this particular custom with
the practice of representing the vernal powers of vegetation
by a bridal pair, and remember the traditions which even in
our own country attach to May Day,[366] we shall probably do
no injustice to our forefathers if we conclude that they once
celebrated the return of spring with grosser rites, of which
the customs I have referred to are only a stunted survival.
Indeed, these rites in their grossest form are said to be still
observed in various parts of Holland at Whitsuntide.[367] In
some parts of Germany at harvest the men and women, who
have reaped the corn, roll together on the field.[368] This
again is probably a mitigation of an older and ruder custom
designed to impart fertility to the fields by methods like
those resorted to by the Pipiles of Central America long ago
and by the cultivators of rice in Java at the present time.
In Poso, when the rice-crop is not thriving, the farmer’s wife
sets bowls of rice and betel in various parts of the field; then
she lies down, draws her petticoat over her head, and pretends
to fall asleep. But one of her children thereupon
mimics the crowing of a cock, and at the sound she gets up,
“because a new day has dawned.” The intention of this
ceremony, which the natives could not or would not explain
to the Dutch missionary who reports it, may be to place the
woman at the disposal of the god of the field. We are
expressly told that there is a special god of the rice-fields
named Puwe-wai, and that the ceremony in question is
performed in his honour.[369]
|Continence practised in order to make the crops grow.|
To the student who cares to track the devious course of
the human mind in its gropings after truth, it is of some
interest to observe that the same theoretical belief in the
sympathetic influence of the sexes on vegetation, which has
105led some peoples to indulge their passions as a means of
fertilising the earth, has led others to seek the same end by
directly opposite means. From the moment that they sowed
the maize till the time that they reaped it, the Indians of
Nicaragua lived chastely, keeping apart from their wives and
sleeping in a separate place. They ate no salt, and drank
neither cocoa nor chicha, the fermented liquor made from
maize; in short the season was for them, as the Spanish
historians observe, a time of abstinence.[370] To this day some
of the Indian tribes of Central America practise continence
for the purpose of thereby promoting the growth of the crops.
Thus we are told that before sowing the maize the Kekchi
Indians sleep apart from their wives, and eat no flesh for five
days, while among the Lanquineros and Cajaboneros the
period of abstinence from these carnal pleasures extends to
thirteen days.[371] So amongst some of the Germans of Transylvania
it is a rule that no man may sleep with his wife
during the whole of the time that he is engaged in sowing
his fields.[372] The same rule is observed at Kalotaszeg in
Hungary; the people think that if the custom were not
observed the corn would be mildewed.[373] Similarly a Central
Australian headman of the Kaitish tribe strictly abstains
from marital relations with his wife all the time that he is
performing magical ceremonies to make the grass grow;
for he believes that a breach of this rule would prevent
the grass seed from sprouting properly.[374] In some of the
Melanesian islands, when the yam vines are being trained,
the men sleep near the gardens and never approach their
wives; should they enter the garden after breaking this
rule of continence the fruits of the garden would be
106spoilt.[375] In the Motu tribe of New Guinea, when rain
has fallen plentifully and there is promise of a good crop
of bananas, one of the chief men becomes holy or taboo,
and must live apart from his wife and eat only certain
kinds of food. He bids the young men beat the drum and
dance, “in order that by so doing there may be a large
harvest. If the dancing is not given, there will be an end
to the good growth; but if it is continued, all will go well.
People come in from other villages to assist, and will dance
all night.”[376] In the Mekeo district of British New Guinea,
when a taboo has been put on the coco-nuts and areca-nuts
to promote their growth, some fourteen or fifteen men act as
watchmen to enforce the taboo. Every evening they go
round the village armed with clubs and wearing masks or so
covered with leaves that nobody would know them. All the
time they are in office they may not chew betel nor drink
coco-nut water, lest the areca-nuts (which are eaten with
betel) and the coco-nuts should fail. Moreover, they may
not live with their wives; indeed, they may not even look at
a woman, and if they pass one they must keep their eyes on
the ground.[377] Among the Kabuis of Manipur, before the rice
is sown and when it is reaped, the strictest chastity has to be
observed, especially by the religious head of the village, who,
besides always taking the omens on behalf of the villagers,
is the first to sow and the first to reap.[378] Some of the
tribes of Assam believe that so long as the crops remain
ungarnered, the slightest incontinence might ruin all.[379] In the
incense-growing region of Arabia in antiquity there were three
families charged with the special care of the incense-trees.
They were called sacred, and at the time when they cut the
trees or gathered the incense they were forbidden to pollute
themselves with women or with the contact of the dead;
107the observance of these rules of ceremonial purity was believed
to increase the supply of incense.[380] Apparently the
incense itself was deemed holy, for on being gathered it was
deposited in the sanctuary of the Sun, where the merchants
inspected and purchased it.[381] With ancient Greek husbandmen
it was a maxim that olives should always be planted
and gathered by pure boys and virgins; the uncommon
fruitfulness of the olive-trees at Anazarbus in Cilicia was
attributed to their being tended by young and innocent
children. In default of such workers, the olive-gatherer had
to swear that he had been faithful to his own wife; for his
fidelity was believed to ensure an abundant crop of fruit the
following year.[382]
|Illicit love supposed to blight the fruits of the earth.|
Again, the sympathetic relation supposed to exist
between the commerce of the sexes and the fertility of the
earth manifests itself in the belief that illicit love tends,
directly or indirectly, to mar that fertility and to blight the
crops.[383] Such a belief prevails, for example, among the
Karens of Burma. They imagine that adultery or fornication
has a powerful influence to injure the harvest. Hence
if the crops have been bad for a year or two, and no rain
falls, the villagers set down the dearth to secret sins of this
kind, and say that the God of heaven and earth is angry
with them on that account; and they all unite in making
an offering to appease him. Further, whenever adultery or
fornication is detected, the elders decide that the sinners
must buy a hog and kill it. Then the woman takes one
foot of the hog, and the man takes another, and they scrape
out furrows in the ground with each foot, and fill the
furrows with the blood of the hog. Next they scratch the
ground with their hands and pray: “God of heaven and
earth, God of the mountains and hills, I have destroyed the
productiveness of the country. Do not be angry with me,
do not hate me; but have mercy on me, and compassionate
me. Now I repair the mountains, now I heal the hills, and
108the streams and the lands. May there be no failure of
crops, may there be no unsuccessful labours, or unfortunate
efforts in my country. Let them be dissipated to the foot
of the horizon. Make thy paddy fruitful, thy rice abundant.
Make the vegetables to flourish. If we cultivate but little,
still grant that we may obtain a little.” After each has
prayed thus, they return to the house and say they have
repaired the earth.[384] The Battas of Sumatra think that if
an unmarried woman is big with child, it is necessary to give
her in marriage at once, even to a man of lower rank; for
otherwise the people will be infested by tigers, and the
crops in the field will not yield an abundant return. The
crime of incest, in their opinion, would blast the whole
harvest if the wrong were not speedily repaired. Epidemics
and other calamities that affect the whole people are almost
always traced by them to incest, by which is to be understood
any marriage that conflicts with their customs.[385]
|Dyak belief that lewdness may cause bad weather and spoil the crops.|
Similar views are held by various tribes of Borneo. Thus
when the rain pours down steadily day after day and week
after week, and the crops are rotting in the fields, the Dyaks
of Borneo come to the conclusion that some one has been
indulging in fleshly lusts; so the elders lay their heads
together and adjudicate on all cases of incest and bigamy,
and purify the earth with the blood of pigs, which appears
to possess in a high degree the valuable property of atoning
for moral guilt. For three days the villages are tabooed
and all labour discontinued; the inhabitants remain at home,
and no strangers are admitted. Not long ago the offenders,
whose lewdness had thus brought the whole country into
danger, would have been punished with death or at least
slavery. A Dyak may not marry his first cousin unless he
first performs a special ceremony called bergaput to avert
evil consequences from the land. The couple repair to
109the water-side, fill a small pitcher with their personal
ornaments, and sink it in the river; or instead of a jar they
fling a chopper and a plate into the water. A pig is then
sacrificed on the bank, and its carcase, drained of blood, is
thrown in after the jar. Next the pair are pushed into
the water by their friends and ordered to bathe together.
Lastly, a joint of bamboo is filled with pig’s blood, and the
couple perambulate the country and the villages round
about, sprinkling the blood on the ground. After that they
are free to marry. This is done, we are told, for the sake of
the whole country, in order that the rice may not be blasted.[386]
The Bahaus or Kayans, a tribe in the interior of Borneo,
|Kayan belief that adultery or fornication spoils the harvest.|
believe that adultery is punished by the spirits, who visit the
whole tribe with failure of the crops and other misfortunes.
Hence in order to avert these calamities from the innocent
members of the tribe, the two culprits, with all their possessions,
are put in quarantine on a gravel bank in the middle
of the river; then in order thoroughly to disinfect them, pigs
and fowls are killed, and with the blood priestesses smear the
property of the guilty pair. Finally the two are set on a
raft, with sixteen eggs, and allowed to drift down the
stream. They may save themselves by swimming ashore,
but this is perhaps a mitigation of an older sentence of
death by drowning. Young people shower long grass-stalks,
which stand for spears, at the shamefaced and
dripping couple.[387] The Blu-u Kayans of the same region
similarly imagine that an intrigue between an unmarried
pair is punished by the spirits with failure of the harvest,
of the fishing, and of the hunt. Hence the delinquents
110have to appease the wrath of the spirits by sacrificing a pig
and some rice.[388]
|Incest and seduction supposed to be a cause of bad weather and failure of crops
in Celebes.|
Among the Macassars and Bugineese of Southern Celebes
incest is a capital crime. “In the Bugineese language
this misdeed is called sâpa-tâna, which, literally translated,
signifies that the ground (tâna) which has been polluted with
the blood of such a person must above all be shunned (sâpa).
When we remember how afraid of evil spirits a native is in
passing even a spot that has been stained with innocent
blood, we can easily conceive what passes in his mind at the
thought of the blood of one who has been guilty of such a
crime. When the rivers dry up and the supply of fish runs
short, when the harvest and the produce of the gardens miscarry,
when edible fruits fail, and especially when sickness
is rife among the cattle and horses, as well as when civil
strife breaks out and the country suffers from any other
widespread calamity, the native generally thinks that earth
and air have been sullied with the blood of persons who
have committed incest. The blood of such people should
naturally not be shed. Hence the punishment usually
inflicted on them is that of drowning. They are tied up
in a sack and thrown into the sea. Yet they get with them
on their journey to eternity the necessary provisions, consisting
of a bag of rice, salt, dried fish, coco-nuts and so on,
not forgetting three quids of betel.”[389] Among the Tomori
of Central Celebes a person guilty of incest is throttled; no
drop of his blood may fall on the ground, for if it did, the
rice would never grow again. The union of uncle and niece
is regarded by these people as incest, but it can be expiated
by an offering. A garment of the man and one of the
woman are laid on a copper vessel; the blood of a sacrificed
animal, either a goat or a fowl, is allowed to drip on the
garments, and then the vessel with its contents is suffered
111to float down the river.[390] Among the Tolalaki, another tribe
of Central Celebes, persons who have defiled themselves with
incest are shut up in a basket and drowned. No drop of
their blood may be spilt on the ground, for that would hinder
the earth from ever bearing fruit again.[391] When it rains in
torrents, the Galelareese of Halmahera say that brother and
sister, or father and daughter, or in short some near relations
are having illicit relations with each other, and that every
human being must be informed of it, for then only will the
rain cease to descend. The superstition has repeatedly caused
blood relations to be accused, rightfully or wrongfully, of incest.
The people also regard other alarming natural phenomena,
for instance a violent earthquake or the eruption of a
volcano, as consequences of crimes of the same sort. Persons
charged with such offences are brought to Ternate; it is
said that formerly they were often drowned on the way
or, on being haled thither, were condemned to be thrown
into the volcano.[392]
|Breaches of sexual morality supposed to prevent rain and so to blight
the fruits of the earth in Africa.|
In some parts of Africa, also, it is believed that breaches
of sexual morality disturb the course of nature, particularly
by blighting the fruits of the earth. Thus the negroes of
Loango suppose that the intercourse of a man with an
immature girl is punished by God with drought and consequent
famine, until the culprits atone for their sin by
dancing naked before the king and an assembly of the people,
who throw hot gravel and bits of glass at the pair. For
example, in the year 1898, it was discovered that a long
drought was caused by the misconduct of three girls, who
were with child before they had passed through what is
called the paint-house, that is, before they had been painted
red and secluded for a time in token that they had attained
to the age of puberty. The people were very angry and
112tried to punish or even kill the girls.[393] Amongst the Bavili
of Loango, it is believed that if a man breaks the marriage
law by marrying a woman of his mother’s clan, God will in
like manner punish the crime by withholding the rains in
their due season.[394] Similar notions of the blighting influence
of sexual crime appear to be entertained by the Nandi of
British East Africa, for amongst them a girl who has been
gotten with child by a warrior, may never look inside of a
granary for fear of spoiling the corn.[395] Among the Basutos
likewise “while the corn is exposed to view, all defiled persons
are carefully kept from it. If the aid of a man in this state
is necessary for carrying home the harvest, he remains at
some distance while the sacks are filled, and only approaches
to place them upon the draught oxen. He withdraws as
soon as the load is deposited at the dwelling, and under no
pretext can he assist in pouring the corn into the baskets
in which it is preserved.”[396] The nature of the defilement
which thus disqualifies a man for handling the corn is not
mentioned, but probably it would include unchastity. We
may conjecture that it was for a similar reason that the Basoga
of Central Africa used to punish severely the seduction of a
virgin. “If a man was convicted of such a crime, and the
woman’s guilt was discovered, he and she were sent at night
time to Kaluba’s village, where they were tied to a tree. This
tall spreading incense-tree was thought to be under the protection
of a spirit called Kakua Kambuzi. Next morning the
erring couple were discovered by people in the surrounding
plantations, who released them. They were then allowed to
settle near the tree of the protecting spirit.” This practice
of tying the culprits to a sacred tree may have been thought
to atone for their crime and so to ensure the fertility of the
earth which they had imperilled. The notion perhaps was
to deliver the criminals into the power of the offended tree-spirit;
if they were found alive in the morning, it was a sign
that he had pardoned them. “Curiously enough, the Basoga
113also held in great abhorrence anything like incest amongst
domestic animals—that is to say, they greatly disapproved
of intercourse between a bull calf and its mother-cow, or
between a bull and a cow that were known to be brother
and sister. If this occurred, the bull and cow were sent by
night to a fetish tree and tied there. The next morning
the chief of the district appropriated the animals and turned
them to his own use.”[397] Following out the same train of
thought, the Toradjas of Central Celebes ingeniously employ
|Incest of animals employed as a rain-charm in Africa.|
the incest of animals as a rain-charm. For they believe that
the anger of the gods at incest or bestiality manifests itself
in the form of violent storms, heavy rain, or long drought.
Accordingly they think that it is always in their power to
enrage the gods by committing incest and so to procure
rain when it is needed. However, they abstain from perpetrating
the crime among themselves, first, because it
would be necessary to put the culprits to death, and second,
because the storms thus raised would be so furious that
they would do more harm than good. But they fancy that the
incest, real or simulated, of animals is a lighter offence, which
by discomposing, without exasperating, the higher powers
will disturb the balance of nature just enough to improve
the weather. A ceremony of this sort was witnessed by a
missionary. Rain was wanted, and the headman of the
village had to see that it fell. He took his measures
accordingly. Attended by a crowd he carried a cock and
a little sow to the river. Here the animals were killed, laid
side by side in an intimate embrace, and wrapped tightly up
in a piece of cotton. Then the headman engaged in prayer.
“O gods above and gods below,” said he, “if you have pity
on us, and will that we eat food this year, give rain. If you
will not give rain, well we have here buried a cock and a
sow in an intimate embrace.” By which he meant to say,
“Be angry at this abomination which we have committed,
and manifest your anger in storms.”[398]
These examples suffice to prove that among many savage
races breaches of the marriage laws are thought to blast the
114fruits of the earth through excessive rain or excessive drought.
Similar notions of the disastrous effects of sexual crimes may
|Similar notions of the blighting effect of sexual crime may be detected
among the civilised races of antiquity, for example, among the Jews.|
be detected among some of the civilised races of antiquity,
who seem not to have limited the supposed sterilising influence
of such offences to the fruits of the earth, but to have
extended it also to women and cattle.[399] Thus among the
Hebrews we read how Job, passionately protesting his
innocence before God, declares that he is no adulterer;
“For that,” says he, “were an heinous crime; yea, it were an
iniquity to be punished by the judges: for it is a fire that
consumeth unto Destruction, and would root out all mine
increase.”[400] In this passage the Hebrew word translated
“increase” commonly means “the produce of the earth;”[401]
and if we give the word its usual sense here, then Job affirms
adultery to be destructive of the fruits of the ground, which
is just what many savages still believe. This interpretation
of his words is strongly confirmed by two narratives in
Genesis, where we read how Sarah, Abraham’s wife, was
taken into his harem by a king who did not know her to be
the wife of the patriarch, and how thereafter God visited the
king and his household with great plagues, especially by
closing up the wombs of the king’s wives and his maid-servants,
so that they bore no children. It was not till the
king had discovered and confessed his sin, and Abraham had
prayed God to forgive him, that the king’s women again
became fruitful.[402] These narratives seem to imply that
adultery, even when it is committed in ignorance, is a cause
of plague and especially of sterility among women. Again,
in Leviticus, after a long list of sexual crimes, we read:[403]
“Defile not ye yourselves in any of these things: for in all
these the nations are defiled which I cast out from before
you: and the land is defiled: therefore I do visit the
115iniquity thereof upon it, and the land vomiteth out her
inhabitants.” This passage appears to imply that the land
itself was somehow physically tainted by sexual transgressions
so that it could no longer support the inhabitants.
|Blighting effect attributed to incest by the ancient Greeks and Irish.|
It would seem that the ancient Greeks and Romans
entertained similar notions as to the wasting effect of incest.
According to Sophocles the land of Thebes suffered from
blight, from pestilence, and from the sterility both of women
and of cattle under the reign of Oedipus, who had unwittingly
slain his father and wedded his mother, and the Delphic
oracle declared that the only way to restore the prosperity
of the country was to banish the sinner from it, as if
his mere presence withered plants, animals, and women.[404]
No doubt the poet and his hearers set down these public
calamities in great part to the guilt of parricide, which
rested on Oedipus; but they can hardly have failed to
lay much also of the evil at the door of his incest with his
mother. Again, in ancient Italy, under the Emperor Claudius,
a Roman noble was accused of incest with his sister. He
committed suicide, his sister was banished, and the emperor
ordered that certain ancient ceremonies traditionally derived
from the laws of King Servius Tullius should be performed,
and that expiation should be made by the pontiffs at the
sacred grove of Diana,[405] probably the famous Arician grove,
which has furnished the starting-point of our enquiry.
As Diana appears to have been a goddess of fertility in
general and of the fruitfulness of women in particular, the
atonement made at her sanctuary for incest may perhaps be
accepted as evidence that the Romans, like other peoples,
attributed to sexual immorality a tendency to blast the fruits
both of the earth and of the womb. This inference is
strengthened by a precept laid down by grave Roman writers
that bakers, cooks, and butlers ought to be strictly chaste
and continent, because it was most important that food and
cups should be handled either by persons under the age of
puberty, or at all events by persons who indulged very
sparingly in sexual intercourse; for which reason if a baker,
a cook, or a butler broke this rule of continence it was his
bounden duty to wash in a river or other running water
116before he applied himself again to his professional duties.
But for all such duties the services of a boy or of a virgin
were preferred.[406] The Celts of ancient Ireland similarly
believed that incest blighted the fruits of the earth. According
to legend Munster was afflicted in the third century
of our era with a failure of the crops and other misfortunes.
When the nobles enquired into the matter,
they were told that these calamities were the result of
an incest which the king had committed with his sister.
In order to put an end to the evil they demanded of the
king his two sons, the fruit of his unholy union, that they
might consume them with fire and cast their ashes into
the running stream. However, one of the sons, Corc
by name, is said to have been purged of his inherited
taint by being sent out of Ireland to an island, where a
Druid purified him every morning, by putting him on the
back of a white cow with red ears, and pouring water
over him, till one day the cow jumped into the sea and
became a rock, no doubt taking the sin of Corc’s father
away with her. After that the boy was brought back to
Erin.[407]
|Belief in the blighting effect of incest may have helped to institute the forbidden
degrees.|
Thus the belief that incest or sexual crime in general
has power to blast the fruits of the earth is widespread and
probably goes back to a very remote antiquity; it may long
have preceded the rise of agriculture. We may conjecture
that in its origin the belief was magical rather than religious;
in other words, that the blight was at first supposed to be
a direct consequence of the act itself rather than a punishment
inflicted on the criminal by gods or spirits. Conceived
as an unnatural union of the sexes, incest might be thought
to subvert the regular processes of reproduction, and so to
prevent the earth from yielding its fruits and to hinder
animals and men from propagating their kinds. At a later
time the anger of spiritual beings would naturally be invoked
in order to give a religious sanction to the old taboo. If this
117was so, it is possible that something of the horror which
incest has excited among most, though by no means all,
races of men, sprang from this ancient superstition and has
been transmitted as an instinct in many nations long after
the imaginary ground of it had been forgotten. Certainly
a course of conduct which was supposed to endanger or
destroy the general supply of food and therefore to strike
a blow at the very life of the whole people, could not but
present itself to the savage imagination as a crime of the
blackest dye, fraught with the most fatal consequences to
the public weal. How far such a superstition may in the
beginning have operated to prevent the union of near kin,
in other words, to institute the system of prohibited degrees
which still prevails among the great majority of mankind,
both savage and civilised, is a question which deserves to be
considered by the historians of marriage.[408]
|Explanation of the seeming contradiction in the foregoing customs.|
If we ask why it is that similar beliefs should logically
lead, among different peoples, to such opposite modes of
conduct as strict chastity and more or less open debauchery,
the reason, as it presents itself to the primitive mind, is
perhaps not very far to seek. If rude man identifies himself,
in a manner, with nature; if he fails to distinguish the
impulses and processes in himself from the methods which
nature adopts to ensure the reproduction of plants and
animals, he may leap to one of two conclusions. Either
he may infer that by yielding to his appetites he will
thereby assist in the multiplication of plants and animals;
or he may imagine that the vigour which he refuses to
expend in reproducing his own kind, will form as it
were a store of energy whereby other creatures, whether
vegetable or animal, will somehow benefit in propagating
their species. Thus from the same crude philosophy, the
same primitive notions of nature and life, the savage may
derive by different channels a rule either of profligacy or
of asceticism.
|Indirect benefit of some of these superstitious customs.|
To readers bred in a religion which is saturated with
the ascetic idealism of the East, the explanation which I
have given of the rule of continence observed under certain
circumstances by rude or savage peoples may seem far-fetched
118|The ascetic view of chastity not understood by the savage.|
and improbable. They may think that moral purity, which
is so intimately associated in their minds with the observance
of such a rule, furnishes a sufficient explanation of it; they
may hold with Milton[409] that chastity in itself is a noble
virtue, and that the restraint which it imposes on one of
the strongest impulses of our animal nature marks out those
who can submit to it as men raised above the common herd,
and therefore worthy to receive the seal of the divine approbation.
However natural this mode of thought may seem
to us, it is utterly foreign and indeed incomprehensible to
the savage. If he resists on occasion the sexual instinct, it
is from no high idealism, no ethereal aspiration after moral
purity, but for the sake of some ulterior yet perfectly definite
and concrete object, to gain which he is prepared to sacrifice
the immediate gratification of his senses. That this is or
may be so, the examples I have cited are amply sufficient
to prove. They shew that where the instinct of self-preservation,
which manifests itself chiefly in the search for food,
conflicts or appears to conflict with the instinct which conduces
to the propagation of the species, the former instinct,
as the primary and more fundamental, is capable of over-mastering
the latter. In short, the savage is willing to
restrain his sexual propensity for the sake of food. Another
object for the sake of which he consents to exercise the same
self-restraint is victory in war. Not only the warrior in the
field but his friends at home will often bridle their sensual
appetites from a belief that by so doing they will the more
119easily overcome their enemies.[410] The fallacy of such a belief,
like the belief that the chastity of the sower conduces to the
growth of the seed, is plain enough to us; yet perhaps the
self-restraint which these and the like beliefs, vain and false
as they are, have imposed on mankind, has not been without
its utility in bracing and strengthening the breed. For strength
of character in the race as in the individual consists mainly
in the power of sacrificing the present to the future, of disregarding
the immediate temptations of ephemeral pleasure
for more distant and lasting sources of satisfaction. The
more the power is exercised the higher and stronger becomes
the character; till the height of heroism is reached in men
who renounce the pleasures of life and even life itself for
the sake of keeping or winning for others, perhaps in distant
ages, the blessings of freedom and truth.
CHAPTER XII THE SACRED MARRIAGE — § 1. Diana as a Goddess of Fertility — § 2. The Marriage of the Gods — § 3. Sacrifices to Water-spirits
120
|Dramatic marriages of gods and goddesses as a charm to promote vegetation.|
In the last chapter we saw that according to a widespread
belief, which is not without a foundation in fact, plants reproduce
their kinds through the sexual union of male and female
elements, and that on the principle of homoeopathic or imitative
magic this reproduction can be stimulated by the real or
mock marriage of men and women, who masquerade for the
time being as spirits of vegetation. Such magical dramas have
played a great part in the popular festivals of Europe, and
based as they are on a very crude conception of natural law,
it is clear that they must have been handed down from a
remote antiquity. We shall hardly, therefore, err in assuming
that they date from a time when the forefathers of the civilised
nations of Europe were still barbarians, herding their cattle
and cultivating patches of corn in the clearings of the vast
forests, which then covered the greater part of the continent,
from the Mediterranean to the Arctic Ocean. But if these
old spells and enchantments for the growth of leaves and
blossoms, of grass and flowers and fruit, have lingered down to
our own time in the shape of pastoral plays and popular merry-makings,
is it not reasonable to suppose that they survived in
less attenuated forms some two thousand years ago among
the civilised peoples of antiquity? Or, to put it otherwise,
is it not likely that in certain festivals of the ancients we
may be able to detect the equivalents of our May Day,
Whitsuntide, and Midsummer celebrations, with this difference,
121that in those days the ceremonies had not yet dwindled into
mere shows and pageants, but were still religious or magical
rites, in which the actors consciously supported the high
parts of gods and goddesses? Now in the first chapter of
this book we found reason to believe that the priest who
bore the title of King of the Wood at Nemi had for his
mate the goddess of the grove, Diana herself. May not he
and she, as King and Queen of the Wood, have been
serious counterparts of the merry mummers who play the King
and Queen of May, the Whitsuntide Bridegroom and Bride
in modern Europe? and may not their union have been
yearly celebrated in a theogamy or divine marriage? Such
dramatic weddings of gods and goddesses, as we shall see
presently, were carried out as solemn religious rites in many
parts of the ancient world; hence there is no intrinsic
improbability in the supposition that the sacred grove at
Nemi may have been the scene of an annual ceremony of
this sort. Direct evidence that it was so there is none, but
analogy pleads in favour of the view, as I shall now
endeavour to shew.
|Diana a goddess of the woodlands.|
Diana was essentially a goddess of the woodlands, as
Ceres was a goddess of the corn and Bacchus a god of the
vine.[411] Her sanctuaries were commonly in groves, indeed
every grove was sacred to her,[412] and she is often associated
with the forest god Silvanus in dedications.[413] We must not
|Sanctity of holy groves in antiquity.|
forget that to the ancients the sanctity of a holy grove was
very real and might not be violated with impunity. For
example, in Attica there was a sanctuary of Erithasean
Apollo, and it was enacted by law that any person caught in
the act of cutting trees in it, or carrying away timber, firewood,
or fallen leaves, should be punished with fifty stripes,
if he was a slave, or with a fine of fifty drachms, if he was a
freeman. The culprit was denounced by the priest to the king,
that is, to the sacred official or minister of state who bore the
122royal title.[414] Similarly it was the duty of the sacred men at
Andania, in Messenia, to scourge slaves and fine freemen
who cut wood in the grove of the Great Goddesses.[415] In
Crete it was forbidden, under pain of curses and fines, to
fell timber, sow corn, and herd or fold flocks within the
precinct of Dictaean Zeus.[416] In Italy like customs prevailed.
Near Spoletium there was a sacred grove from which
nothing might be taken, and in which no wood might be
cut except just so much as was needed for the annual
sacrifice. Any person who knowingly violated the sanctity
of the grove had to expiate his offence by sacrificing an ox
to Jupiter, and to pay besides a fine of three hundred pence.[417]
In his treatise on farming Cato directs that before thinning
a grove the Roman husbandman should offer a pig as an
expiatory sacrifice to the god or goddess of the place, and
should entreat his or her favour for himself, his children, and
his household.[418] The Fratres Arvales or Brethren of the
Tilled Fields were a Roman college of twelve priests, who
performed public religious rites for the purpose of making
the crops to grow, and they wore wreaths of ears of corn as
a badge of their office.[419] Their sacrifices were offered in the
grove of the goddess Dia, situated five miles down the Tiber
from Rome. So hallowed was this grove, which is known
to have included laurels and holly-oaks, that expiatory
sacrifices of sows and lambs had to be offered when a rotten
bough fell to the ground, or when an old tree was laid low
by a storm or dragged down by a load of snow on its
branches. And still more elaborate expiation had to be
made with the slaughter of sows, sheep, and bulls when any
of the sacred trees were struck by lightning and it was
necessary to dig them up by the roots, split them, burn
them, and plant others in their room.[420] At the annual
123festival of the Parilia, which was intended to ensure the
welfare of the flocks and herds, Roman shepherds prayed to
be forgiven if they had entered a hallowed grove, or sat
down under a sacred tree, or lopped a holy bough in order
to feed a sick sheep on the leaves.[421]
|Sense of the divinity of woods shared by polite Roman writers.|
Nor was this sense of the indwelling divinity of the
woods confined to the simple rustics who, tending their
flocks in the chequered shade, felt the presence of spirits in
the solemn stillness of the forest, heard their voices in the
sough of the wind among the branches, and saw their
handiwork in the fresh green of spring and the fading gold
of autumn. The feeling was shared by the most cultivated
minds in the greatest age of Roman civilisation. Pliny says
that “the woods were formerly the temples of the deities,
and even now simple country folk dedicate a tall tree to a
god with the ritual of the olden time; and we adore sacred
groves and the very silence that reigns in them not less
devoutly than images that gleam with gold and ivory.”[422]
Similarly Seneca writes: “If you come upon a grove of old
trees that have shot up above the common height and shut
out the sight of the sky by the gloom of their matted
boughs, you feel there is a spirit in the place, so lofty is the
wood, so lone the spot, so wondrous the thick unbroken
shade.”[423]
|The breaking of the Golden Bough a rite of
solemn significance, not a mere piece of bravado.|
Thus the ancients, like many other people in various
parts of the world, were deeply impressed with the sanctity
of holy groves, and regarded even the cutting of a bough in
them as a sacrilege which called for expiation. If therefore
a candidate for the priesthood of Diana at Nemi had to
break a branch of a certain tree in the sacred grove before
he could fight the King of the Wood, we may be sure that
the act was a rite of solemn significance, and that to treat it
as a mere piece of bravado, a challenge to the priest to come
on and defend his domain, would be to commit the commonest
of all errors in dealing with the past, that, namely, of interpreting
124the customs of other races and other generations by
reference to modern European standards. In order to
understand an alien religion the first essential is to divest
ourselves, as well as we can, of our own familiar prepossessions,
and to place ourselves at the point of view of those
whose faith and practice we are studying. To do this at all
is difficult; to do it completely is perhaps impossible; yet
the attempt must be made if the enquiry is to progress
instead of returning on itself in a vicious circle.
|Diana not a mere goddess of trees, but, like Artemis, a personification
of the teeming life of nature, both animal and vegetable.|
But whatever her origin may have been, Diana was not
always a mere goddess of trees. Like her Greek sister
Artemis, she appears to have developed into a personification
of the teeming life of nature, both animal and vegetable.
As mistress of the greenwood she would naturally be thought
to own the beasts, whether wild or tame, that ranged through
it, lurking for their prey in its gloomy depths, munching the
fresh leaves and shoots among the boughs, or cropping the
herbage in the open glades and dells. Thus she might come
|A deity of the woods is naturally the patron of the beasts in
the woods, both game and cattle.|
to be the patron goddess both of hunters and herdsmen,[424] just
as Silvanus was the god not only of woods, but of cattle.[425]
Similarly in Finland the wild beasts of the forest were regarded
as the herds of the woodland God Tapio and of his stately
and beautiful wife. No man might slay one of these animals
without the gracious permission of their divine owners.
Hence the hunter prayed to the sylvan deities, and vowed
rich offerings to them if they would drive the game across
his path. And cattle also seem to have enjoyed the protection
of those spirits of the woods, both when they were in
their stalls and while they strayed in the forest.[426] So in the
belief of Russian peasants the spirit Leschiy rules both the
wood and all the creatures in it. The bear is to him what
the dog is to man; and the migrations of the squirrels, the
field-mice, and other denizens of the woods are carried out in
obedience to his behests. Success in the chase depends on
his favour, and to assure himself of the spirit’s help the
125huntsman lays an offering, generally of bread and salt, on
the trunk of a tree in the forest. In White Russia every
herdsman must present a cow to Leschiy in summer, and in
the Government of Archangel some herdsmen have won his
favour so far that he even feeds and tends their herds for
them.[427] Similarly the forest-god of the Lapps ruled over all
the beasts of the forest; they were viewed as his herds, and
good or bad luck in hunting depended on his will.[428] So, too,
the Samagitians deemed the birds and beasts of the woods
sacred, doubtless because they were under the protection of
the sylvan god.[429] Before the Gayos of Sumatra hunt deer,
wild goats, or wild pigs with hounds in the woods, they
deem it necessary to obtain the leave of the unseen Lord
of the forest. This is done according to a prescribed form
by a man who has special skill in woodcraft. He lays down
a quid of betel before a stake which is cut in a particular
way to represent the Lord of the Wood, and having done
so he prays to the spirit to signify his consent or refusal.[430]
|The crowning of hunting dogs on Diana’s day was probably a purificatory ceremony
to cleanse them from the guilt of having killed game, the creatures
of the goddess.|
We have seen that at Diana’s festival it was customary
to crown hunting dogs, to leave wild beasts in peace, and to
perform a purificatory ceremony for the benefit of young
people.[431] Some light is thrown on the meaning of these
customs by a passage in Arrian’s treatise on hunting. He
tells us that a good hound is a boon conferred by one of the
gods upon the huntsman, who ought to testify his gratitude
by sacrificing to the Huntress Artemis. Further, Arrian
goes on to say: “It is right that after a successful chase a
man should sacrifice and dedicate the first-fruits of his bag
to the goddess, in order to purify both the hounds and the
hunters, in accordance with old custom and usage.” He tells
us that the Celts were wont to form a treasury for the goddess
Artemis, into which they paid a fine of two obols for every
hare they killed, a drachm for every fox, and four drachms
for every roe. Once a year, on the birthday of Artemis,
126they opened the treasury, and with the accumulated fines
purchased a sacrificial victim, it might be a sheep, a goat, or
a calf. Having slain the animal and offered her share to the
Huntress Artemis, they feasted, both men and dogs; and
they crowned the dogs on that day “in order to signify,”
says Arrian, “that the festival was for their benefit.”[432] The
Celts to whom Arrian, a native of Bithynia, here refers were
probably the Galatians of Asia Minor; but doubtless the
custom he describes was imported by these barbarians, along
with their native tongue[433] and the worship of the oak,[434] from
their old home in Central or Northern Europe. The Celtic
divinity whom Arrian identifies with Artemis may well have
been really akin both to her and to the Italian Diana. We
know from other sources that the Celts revered a woodland
goddess of this type; thus Arduinna, goddess of the forest
of the Ardennes, was represented, like Artemis and Diana,
with a bow and quiver.[435] In any case the custom described
by Arrian is good evidence of a belief that the wild beasts
belong to the goddess of the wilds, who must be compensated
for their destruction; and, taken with what he says of the
need of purifying the hounds after a successful chase, the
Celtic practice of crowning them at the annual festival of
Artemis may have been meant to purge them of the stain
they had contracted by killing the creatures of the goddess.
The same explanation would naturally apply to the same
custom observed by the Italians at the festival of Diana.
|Cattle crowned to protect them from witchcraft.|
But why, it may be asked, should crowns or garlands
cleanse dogs from the taint of bloodshed? An answer to
this question is indicated by the reason which the South
Slavonian peasant assigns for crowning the horns of his cows
with wreaths of flowers on St. George’s Day, the twenty-third
of April. He does it in order to guard the cattle
against witchcraft; cows that have no crowns are regarded
127as given over to the witches. In the evening the chaplets
are fastened to the door of the cattle-stall, and remain there
throughout the year. A herdsman who fails to crown his
beasts is scolded and sometimes beaten by his master.[436] The
German and French custom of crowning cattle on Midsummer
Day[437] probably springs from the same motive. For on Midsummer
Eve, just as on Walpurgis Night, witches are very
busy holding their nocturnal assemblies and trying to steal
the milk and butter from the cows. To guard against them
some people at this season lay besoms crosswise before the
doors of the stalls. Others make fast the doors and stop up
the chinks, lest the witches should creep through them on
their return from the revels. In Swabia all the church bells
used to be kept ringing from nine at night till break of day
on Midsummer morning to drive away the infernal rout from
honest folk’s houses. South Slavonian peasants are up
betimes that morning, gather the dew from the grass, and
wash the cows with it; that saves their milk from the
hellish charms of the witches.[438]
|Similarly the crowning of hunting dogs may
have been meant to protect them against the angry
spirits of the beasts they had killed.|
Now when we observe that garlands of flowers, like
hawthorn and other green boughs,[439] avail to ward off the
unseen powers of mischief, we may conjecture that the
practice of crowning dogs at the festival of a huntress
128goddess was intended to preserve the hounds from the
angry and dangerous spirits of the wild beasts which they
had killed in the course of the year. Fantastical as this
explanation may sound to us, it is perfectly in accordance
with the ideas of the savage, who, as we shall see later on,
resorts to a multitude of curious expedients for disarming
the wrath of the animals whose life he has been obliged to
take. Thus conceived, the custom in question might still
be termed a purification; but its original purpose, like that
of many other purificatory rites, would be not so much to
cleanse moral guilt, as to raise a physical barrier against the
assaults of malignant and mischievous spirits.[440]
|Conceived as the moon, Diana was also a goddess of crops and of childbirth.|
But Diana was not merely a patroness of wild beasts, a
mistress of woods and hills, of lonely glades and sounding
rivers; conceived as the moon, and especially, it would seem,
as the yellow harvest moon, she filled the farmer’s grange
with goodly fruits, and heard the prayers of women in
travail.[441] In her sacred grove at Nemi, as we have seen, she
was especially worshipped as a goddess of childbirth, who
bestowed offspring on men and women.[442] Thus Diana, like
the Greek Artemis, with whom she was constantly identified,
may be described as a goddess of nature in general and of
fertility in particular.[443] We need not wonder, therefore,
that in her sanctuary on the Aventine she was represented
by an image copied from the many-breasted idol of the
Ephesian Artemis, with all its crowded emblems of exuberant
fecundity.[444] Hence too we can understand why an ancient
129Roman law, attributed to King Tullius Hostilius, prescribed
that, when incest had been committed, an expiatory sacrifice
should be offered by the pontiffs in the grove of Diana.[445]
For we know that the crime of incest is commonly supposed
to cause a dearth;[446] hence it would be meet that atonement
for the offence should be made to the goddess of fertility.
|As a goddess of fertility Diana had herself to be fertile, and for
that purpose needed a male partner.|
Now on the principle that the goddess of fertility must
herself be fertile, it behoved Diana to have a male partner.
Her mate, if the testimony of Servius may be trusted, was
that Virbius who had his representative, or perhaps rather
his embodiment, in the King of the Wood at Nemi.[447] The
aim of their union would be to promote the fruitfulness of
the earth, of animals, and of mankind; and it might naturally
be thought that this object would be more surely
attained if the sacred nuptials were celebrated every year,
the parts of the divine bride and bridegroom being played
either by their images or by living persons. No ancient
writer mentions that this was done in the grove at Nemi;
but our knowledge of the Arician ritual is so scanty that the
want of information on this head can hardly count as a fatal
objection to the theory. That theory, in the absence of
direct evidence, must necessarily be based on the analogy of
similar customs practised elsewhere. Some modern examples
of such customs, more or less degenerate, were described in
the last chapter. Here we shall consider their ancient
counterparts.
|Marriages of the gods in Babylonia and Assyria.|
At Babylon the imposing sanctuary of Bel rose like a
pyramid above the city in a series of eight towers or stories,
planted one on the top of the other. On the highest tower,
reached by an ascent which wound about all the rest, there
stood a spacious temple, and in the temple a great bed,
magnificently draped and cushioned, with a golden table
beside it. In the temple no image was to be seen, and no
human being passed the night there, save a single woman,
whom, according to the Chaldean priests, the god chose
130from among all the women of Babylon. They said that the
deity himself came into the temple at night and slept in the
great bed; and the woman, as a consort of the god, might
have no intercourse with mortal man.[448] As Bel at Babylon
was identified with Marduk, the chief god of the city,[449] the
woman who thus shared his bed was doubtless one of the
“wives of Marduk” mentioned in the code of Hammurabi.[450]
At Calah, which was for some time the capital of Assyria
before it was displaced by Nineveh,[451] the marriage of the god
Nabu appears to have been annually celebrated on the third of
the month Iyyar or Airu, which corresponded to May. For
on that day his bed was consecrated in the city, and the god
entered his bedchamber, to return to his place on the
following day. The ceremonies attending the consecration
of the couch are minutely described in a liturgical text.
After the appropriate offerings had been presented, the
officiating priestess purified the feet of the divine image with
a sprig of reed and a vessel of oil, approached the bed thrice,
kissed the feet of the image, then retired and sat down.
After that she burned cedar wood dipped in wine, set before
the image the heart of a sheep wrapped in a cloth, and
offered libations. Aromatic woods were consecrated and
burnt, more libations and offerings were made, tables were
spread for various divinities, and the ceremony ended with a
prayer for the King. The god also went in procession to a
grove, riding in a chariot beside his charioteer.[452]
|Marriage of the god Ammon to the Queen of Egypt.|
At Thebes in Egypt a woman slept in the temple of
Ammon as the consort of the god, and, like the human wife
of Bel at Babylon, she was said to have no commerce with
131a man.[453] In Egyptian texts she is often mentioned as “the
divine consort,” and usually she was no less a personage
than the Queen of Egypt herself. For, according to the
Egyptians, their monarchs were actually begotten by the
god Ammon, who assumed for the time being the form of
the reigning king, and in that disguise had intercourse with
the queen. The divine procreation is carved and painted in
great detail on the walls of two of the oldest temples in
Egypt, those of Deir el Bahari and Luxor; and the inscriptions
attached to the paintings leave no doubt as to the
meaning of the scenes. The pictures at Deir el Bahari,
which represent the begetting and birth of Queen Hatshopsitou,
are the more ancient, and have been reproduced with
but little change at Luxor, where they represent the begetting
and birth of King Amenophis III. The nativity is
depicted in about fifteen scenes, which may be grouped in
three acts: first, the carnal union of the god with the queen;
second, the birth; and third, the recognition of the infant
by the gods. The marriage of Ammon with the queen is
announced by a prologue in heaven; Ammon summons his
assessors, the gods of Heliopolis, reveals to them the future
birth of a new Pharaoh, a royal princess, and requests them
to make ready the fluid of life and of strength, of which they
are masters. Then the god is seen approaching the queen’s
bedchamber; in front of him marches Thoth, with a roll
of papyrus in his hand, who, to prevent mistakes, recites the
official names of the queen, the spouse of the reigning king
(Thothmes I. at Deir el Bahari, Thothmes IV. at Luxor),
the fairest of women. Then Thoth withdraws behind Ammon,
lifting his arm behind the god in order to renew his vital
fluid at this critical moment. Next, according to the inscription,
the mystery of incarnation takes place. Ammon lays
aside his godhead and becomes flesh in the likeness of the
king, the human spouse of the queen. The consummation
of the divine union follows immediately. On a bed of state
the god and the queen appear seated opposite each other,
with their legs crossed. The queen receives from her husband
the symbols of life and strength, while two goddesses,
Neit and Selkit, the patronesses of matrimony, support the
132feet of the couple and guard them from harm. The text
which encloses the scene sets forth clearly the reality of this
mystic union of the human with the divine. “Thus saith
Ammon-Ra, king of the gods, lord of Karnak, he who rules
over Thebes, when he took the form of this male, the King
of Upper and Nether Egypt, Thothmes I. (or Thothmes IV.),
giver of life. He found the queen then when she lay in the
glory of her palace. She awoke at the fragrance of the god,
and marvelled at it. Straightway his Majesty went towards
her, took possession of her, placed his heart in her,
and shewed himself to her in his divine form. And upon
his coming she was uplifted at the sight of his beauty, the
love of the god ran through all her limbs, and the smell of
the god and his breath were full of the perfumes of Pounit.
And thus saith the royal spouse, the royal mother Ahmasi
(or Moutemouaa), in presence of the majesty of this glorious
god, Ammon, lord of Karnak, lord of Thebes, ‘Twice great
are thy souls! It is noble to behold thy countenance when
thou joinest thyself to my majesty in all grace! Thy dew
impregnates all my limbs.’ Then, when the majesty of the
god had accomplished all his desire with her, Ammon, the
lord of the two lands, said to her: ‘She who is joined to
Ammon, the first of the nobles, verily, such shall be the name
of the daughter who shall open thy womb, since such is the
course of the words that came forth from thy mouth. She
shall reign in righteousness in all the earth, for my soul is
hers, my heart is hers, my will is hers, my crown is hers,
truly, that she may rule over the two lands, that she may
guide the souls of all living.’”
|Nativity of the divine Egyptian kings represented on the monuments.|
After the begetting of the divine child—for we must
remember that the kings and queens of Egypt were regarded
as divinities in their lifetime—another series of scenes represents
the fashioning of its body and its birth. The god
Khnoumou, who in the beginning of time moulded gods
and men on his potter’s wheel, is seen seated at his wheel
modelling the future king or queen and their doubles—those
spiritual duplicates or external souls which were believed
to hover invisible about both men and gods all through life.
In front of Khnoumou kneels Hiqit, the frog-headed goddess,
“the great magician”; she is holding out to the newly-created
133figures the symbol of life, the crux ansata ♀, in order
that they may breathe and live. Another scene represents
the birth. At Deir el Bahari the queen has already been
delivered, and is presenting her daughter to several goddesses,
who have acted the part of midwives. At Luxor the double
of the royal infant is born first; the goddesses who serve as
nurses have him in their arms, and the midwives are preparing
to receive the real child. Behind the queen are the
goddesses who watch over childbirth, led by Isis and Nephthys;
and all around the spirits of the East, the West, the
North, and the South are presenting the symbol of life or
uttering acclamations. In a corner the grotesque god Bes
and the female hippopotamus Api keep off all evil influence
and every malignant spirit.
|These representations probably copied from the life.|
We shall probably not err in assuming, with some
eminent authorities, that the ceremonies of the nativity of
the Pharaohs, thus emblazoned on the walls of Egyptian
temples, were copied from the life; in other words, that the
carved and painted scenes represent a real drama, which
was acted by masked men and women whenever a queen
of Egypt was brought to bed. “Here, as everywhere else
in Egypt,” says Professor Maspero, “sculptor and painter
did nothing but faithfully imitate reality. Theory required
that the assimilation of the kings to the gods should be
complete, so that every act of the royal life was, as it were,
a tracing of the corresponding act of the divine life. From
the moment that the king was Ammon, he wore the costume
and badges of Ammon—the tall hat with the long plumes,
the cross of life, the greyhound-headed sceptre—and thus
arrayed he presented himself in the queen’s bedchamber to
consummate the marriage. The assistants also assumed the
costume and appearance of the divinities whom they incarnated;
the men put on masks of jackals, hawks, and
crocodiles, while the women donned masks of cows or frogs,
according as they played the parts of Anubis, Khnoumou,
Sovkou, Hathor, or Hiqit; and I am disposed to believe
that the doubles of the new-born child were represented by
as many puppets as were required by the ceremonies.
Some of the rites were complicated, and must have tired
excessively the mother and child who underwent them; but
134they are nothing to those that have been observed in similar
circumstances in other lands. In general, we are bound to
hold that all the pictures traced on the walls of the temples,
in which the person of the king is concerned, correspond
to a real action in which disguised personages played the
part of gods.”[454]
|Human wives of Ammon in the decline of Egypt.|
In the decline of Egypt from the eleventh century
onward, the wives of Ammon at Thebes were called
on to play a conspicuous part in the government of
the country. The strong grip of the Pharaohs was
relaxed and under their feeble successors the empire
crumbled away into a number of petty independent
states. In this dissolution of the central authority the
crafty high priests of Ammon at Thebes contrived to
usurp regal powers and to reign far and wide in the name
of the deity, veiling their rescripts under the guise of oracles
of the god, who, with the help of a little jugglery, complacently
signified his assent to their wishes by nodding
his head or even by speech. But curiously enough under
this pretended theocracy the nominal ruler was not the
priest himself, but his wife, the earthly consort of Ammon.
Thus Thebes became for a time a ghostly principality
governed ostensibly by a dynasty of female popes. Their
office was hereditary, passing by rights from mother to
daughter. But probably the entail was often broken by
the policy or ambition of the men who stood behind the
scenes and worked the religious puppet-show by hidden
wires to the awe and astonishment of the gaping vulgar.
Certainly we know that on one occasion King Psammetichus
First foisted his own daughter into the Holy See by dedicating
her to Ammon under a hypocritical profession of
gratitude for favours bestowed on him by the deity. And
the female pope had to submit to the dictation with the
135best grace she could assume, protesting her affection for
the adopted daughter who had ousted her own daughter
from the throne.[455]
|Human concubines of Ammon in Roman times.|
At a later period, when Egypt lay under the heel of
Rome, the character of “the divine consort” of Ammon
at Thebes had greatly changed. For at the beginning of
our era the custom was to appoint a young and beautiful
girl, the scion of one of the noblest houses, to serve
Ammon as his concubine. The Greeks called these
maidens Pallades, apparently after their own virgin goddess
Pallas; but the conduct of the girls was by no means
maidenly, for they led the loosest of lives till puberty. Then
they were mourned over and given in marriage.[456] Their
graves were shown near Thebes.[457] The reason why their
services ended at puberty may have been that as concubines
of the god they might not bear children to mortal fathers;
hence it was deemed prudent to terminate their relations
with the divinity before they were of an age to become
mothers. It was an Egyptian doctrine that a mortal woman
could conceive by a god, but that a goddess could not conceive
by a mortal man.[458] The certainty of maternity and
the uncertainty of paternity suggest an obvious and probably
sufficient ground for this theological distinction.
|Apollo and his prophetess at Patara.|
Apollo was said to spend the winter months at Patara
in Lycia and the summer months in the island of Delos, and
accordingly he gave oracles for one half of the year in the
one place, and for the other half in the other.[459] So long as
he tarried at Patara, his prophetess was shut up with him
in the temple every night.[460] At Ephesus there was a college
|The Essenes of Artemis at Ephesus.|
of sacred men called Essenes or King Bees who held office
for a year, during which they had to observe strict chastity
and other rules of ceremonial purity.[461] How many of them
136there were at a time we do not know, but there must have
been several, for in Ephesian inscriptions they are regularly
referred to in the plural. They cannot have been bound to
lifelong celibacy, for in one of the inscriptions an Essen
mentions his wife.[462] Possibly they were deemed the annual
husbands of Artemis, the great many-breasted goddess of
fertility at Ephesus, whose association with the bee is
vouched for by the figures of bees which appear commonly
both on her statues and on the coins of Ephesus.[463] If this
conjecture is right, the King Bees and their bee-goddess
Artemis at Ephesus would be closely parallel to the King of
the Wood and his woodland-goddess Diana at Nemi, as these
latter are interpreted by me. The rule of chastity imposed
on the King Bees during their year of office would be easily
explicable on this hypothesis. As the temporary husbands
of the goddess they would be expected for the time being to
have no intercourse with mortal women, just as the human
wives of Bel and Ammon were supposed to have no
commerce with mortal men.
|Marriage of Dionysus to the Queen at Athens.|
At Athens the god of the vine, Dionysus, was annually
married to the Queen, and it appears that the consummation
of the divine union, as well as the espousals, was enacted at
the ceremony; but whether the part of the god was played
by a man or an image we do not know. Attic law required
that the Queen should be a burgess and should never have
known any man but her husband. She had to offer certain
137secret sacrifices on behalf of the state, and was permitted to
see what no foreign woman might ever behold, and to enter
where no other Athenian might set foot. She was assisted
in the discharge of her solemn functions by fourteen sacred
women, one for each of the altars of Dionysus. The old
Dionysiac festival was held on the twelfth day of the month
Anthesterion, corresponding roughly to our February, at
the ancient sanctuary of Dionysus in the Marshes, which
was never opened throughout the year save on that one
day. At this festival the Queen exacted an oath of
purity and chastity from the fourteen sacred women at the
altar. Possibly her marriage was celebrated on the same
day, though of that we have no positive evidence, and we
learn from Aristotle that the ceremony took place, not
at the sanctuary in the marshes, but in the old official
residence of the King, known as the Cattle-stall, which stood
near the Prytaneum or Town-hall on the north-eastern slope
of the Acropolis.[464] But whatever the date of the wedding,
its object can hardly have been any other than that of
ensuring the fertility of the vines and other fruit-trees, of
which Dionysus was the god. Thus both in form and in
meaning the ceremony would answer to the nuptials of the
King and Queen of May. Again, the story, dear to poets
138and artists, of the forsaken and sleeping Ariadne, waked and
wedded by Dionysus, resembles so closely the little drama
acted by French peasants of the Alps on May Day,[465] that,
considering the character of Dionysus as a god of vegetation,
we can hardly help regarding it as the reflection of a
spring ceremony like the French one. In point of fact the
|Dionysus and Ariadne.|
marriage of Dionysus and Ariadne was believed by Preller
to have been acted every spring in Crete.[466] His evidence,
indeed, is inconclusive, but the view itself is probable. If I
am right in comparing the two, the chief difference between
the French and the Greek ceremonies appears to have been
that in the former the sleeper was a forsaken bridegroom, in
the latter a forsaken bride; and the group of stars in the
sky, in which fancy saw Ariadne’s wedding crown,[467] may have
been only a translation to heaven of the garland worn by
the Greek girl who played the Queen of May.
|Marriage of Zeus with Demeter at Eleusis.|
If at Athens, and probably elsewhere, the vine-god was
married to a queen in order that the vines might be loaded
with clusters of grapes, there is reason to think that a
marriage of a different kind, intended to make the fields
wave with yellow corn, was annually celebrated not many
miles off, beyond the low hills that bound the plain of
Athens on the west. In the great mysteries solemnised at
Eleusis in the month of September the union of the sky-god
Zeus with the corn-goddess Demeter appears to have
been represented by the union of the hierophant with the
priestess of Demeter, who acted the parts of god and
goddess. But their intercourse was only dramatic or
symbolical, for the hierophant had temporarily deprived
himself of his virility by an application of hemlock. The
torches having been extinguished, the pair descended into a
murky place, while the throng of worshippers awaited in
anxious suspense the result of the mystic congress, on which
they believed their own salvation to depend. After a time
the hierophant reappeared, and in a blaze of light silently
exhibited to the assembly a reaped ear of corn, the fruit of
the divine marriage. Then in a loud voice he proclaimed,
139“Queen Brimo has brought forth a sacred boy Brimos,” by
which he meant, “The Mighty One has brought forth the
Mighty.” The corn-mother in fact had given birth to her
child, the corn, and her travail-pangs were enacted in the
sacred drama.[468] This revelation of the reaped corn appears
to have been the crowning act of the mysteries. Thus
through the glamour shed round these rites by the poetry
and philosophy of later ages there still looms, like a distant
landscape through a sunlit haze, a simple rustic festival
140designed to cover the wide Eleusinian plain with a plenteous
harvest by wedding the goddess of the corn to the sky-god,
who fertilised the bare earth with genial showers.
|Marriage of Zeus and Hera at Plataea.|
But Zeus was not always the sky-god, nor did he always
marry the corn-goddess. If in antiquity a traveller, quitting
Eleusis and passing through miles of olive-groves and corn-fields,
had climbed the pine-clad mountains of Cithaeron and
descended through the forest on their northern slope to
Plataea, he might have chanced to find the people of that
little Boeotian town celebrating a different marriage of
the great god to a different goddess. The ceremony is
described by a Greek antiquary whose note-book has
fortunately preserved for us not a few rural customs of
ancient Greece, of which the knowledge would otherwise
have perished.
Every few years the people of Plataea held a festival
which they called the Little Daedala. On the day of the
festival they went out into an ancient oak forest, the trees
of which were of gigantic girth. There they set some boiled
meat on the ground, and watched the birds that gathered
round it. When a raven was observed to carry off a piece
of the meat and perch on an oak, the people followed it and
cut down the tree. With the wood of the tree they made
an image, dressed it as a bride, and placed it on a bullock-cart
with a bridesmaid beside it. It seems then to have
been drawn to the banks of the river Asopus and back to
the town, attended by a piping and dancing crowd. After
the festival the image was put away and kept till the celebration
of the Great Daedala, which fell only once in sixty
years, and was held by all the people of Boeotia. On this
occasion all the images, fourteen in number, that had accumulated
from the celebrations of the Little Daedala were dragged
on wains in procession to the river Asopus, and then to the
top of Mount Cithaeron. There an altar had been constructed
of square blocks of wood fitted together, with brushwood
heaped over it. Animals were sacrificed by being burned
on the altar, and the altar itself, together with the images,
was consumed by the flames. The blaze, we are told, rose
to a prodigious height and was seen for many miles. To
explain the origin of the festival a story ran that once
141upon a time Hera had quarrelled with Zeus and left him in
high dudgeon. To lure her back Zeus gave out that he
was about to marry the nymph Plataea, daughter of the
river Asopus. He had a fine oak cut down, shaped and
dressed as a bride, and conveyed on a bullock-cart. Transported
with rage and jealousy, Hera flew to the cart,
and tearing off the veil of the pretended bride, discovered
the deceit that had been practised on her. Her rage now
turned to laughter, and she became reconciled to her husband
Zeus.[469]
|Resemblance of the Plataean ceremony to the spring and midsummer
festivals of modern Europe.|
The resemblance of this festival to some of the European
spring and midsummer festivals is tolerably close. We have
seen that in Russia at Whitsuntide the villagers go out into
the wood, fell a birch-tree, dress it in woman’s clothes, and
bring it back to the village with dance and song. On the
third day it is thrown into the water.[470] Again, we have seen
that in Bohemia on Midsummer Eve the village lads fell a
tall fir or pine-tree in the wood and set it up on a height,
where it is adorned with garlands, nosegays, and ribbons,
and afterwards burnt.[471] The reason for burning the tree
will appear afterwards; the custom itself is not uncommon
in modern Europe. In some parts of the Pyrenees a tall
and slender tree is cut down on May Day and kept till
Midsummer Eve. It is then rolled to the top of a hill, set
up, and burned.[472] In Angoulême on St. Peter’s Day, the
twenty-ninth of June, a tall leafy poplar is set up in the
market-place and burned.[473] Near Launceston in Cornwall
there is a large tumulus known as Whiteborough, with a
fosse round it. On this tumulus “there was formerly a
great bonfire on Midsummer Eve; a large summer pole was
fixed in the centre, round which the fuel was heaped up. It
had a large bush on the top of it. Round this were parties
of wrestlers contending for small prizes.” The rustics believed
that giants were buried in such mounds, and nothing would
tempt them to disturb their bones.[474] In Dublin on May-morning
142boys used to go out and cut a May-bush, bring it
back to town, and then burn it.[475]
|All such ceremonies were originally magical rites intended to bring about the
effects which they dramatically represented.|
Probably the Boeotian festival belonged to the same class
of rites. It represented the marriage of the powers of vegetation—the
union of the oak-god with the oak-goddess[476]—in
spring or midsummer, just as the same event is represented
in modern Europe by a King and Queen or a Lord
and Lady of the May. In the Boeotian, as in the Russian,
ceremony the tree dressed as a woman stands for the English
May-pole and May-queen in one. All such ceremonies, it
must be remembered, are not, or at least were not originally,
mere spectacular or dramatic exhibitions. They are magical
rites designed to produce the effect which they dramatically
set forth. If the revival of vegetation in spring is
mimicked by the awakening of a sleeper, the mimicry is
intended actually to quicken the growth of leaves and
blossoms; if the marriage of the powers of vegetation is
simulated by a King and Queen of May, the idea is that the
powers thus personated will really be rendered more productive
by the ceremony. In short, all these spring and
midsummer festivals fall under the head of homoeopathic or
imitative magic. The thing which people wish to bring
about they represent dramatically, and the very representation
is believed to effect, or at least to contribute to, the production
of the desired result. In the case of the Daedala the
story of Hera’s quarrel with Zeus and her sullen retirement
may perhaps without straining be interpreted as a mythical
expression for a bad season and the failure of the crops.
The same disastrous effects were attributed to the anger and
seclusion of Demeter after the loss of her daughter Proserpine.[477]
Now the institution of a festival is often explained
by a mythical story, which relates how upon a particular
occasion those very calamities occurred which it is the real
143object of the festival to avert; so that if we know the myth
told to account for the historical origin of the festival, we can
often infer from it the real intention with which the festival
was celebrated. If, therefore, the origin of the Daedala was
explained by a story of a failure of crops and consequent
famine, we may infer that the real object of the festival was
to prevent the occurrence of such disasters; and, if I am right
in my interpretation of the festival, the object was supposed
to be effected by dramatically representing the marriage of
the divinities most concerned with the production of trees
and plants. The marriage of Zeus and Hera was acted
at annual festivals in various parts of Greece,[478] and it is
at least a fair conjecture that the nature and intention
of these ceremonies were such as I have assigned to the
Plataean festival of the Daedala; in other words, that Zeus
and Hera at these festivals were the Greek equivalents of the
Lord and Lady of the May. Homer’s glowing picture of
Zeus and Hera couched on fresh hyacinths and crocuses,[479]
like Milton’s description of the dalliance of Zephyr with
Aurora, “as he met her once a-Maying,” was perhaps painted
from the life.
|The god Frey and his human wife in Sweden.|
The sacred marriage of Zeus and Hera had, as was
natural, its counterpart among the northern kinsfolk of the
Greeks. In Sweden every year a life-size image of Frey,
the god of fertility, both animal and vegetable, was drawn
about the country in a waggon attended by a beautiful girl
who was called the god’s wife. She acted also as his
144priestess in his great temple at Upsala. Wherever the
waggon came with the image of the god and his blooming
young bride, the people crowded to meet them and offered
sacrifices for a fruitful year. Once on a time a Norwegian
exile named Gunnar Helming gave himself out to be Frey
in person, and rode about on the sacred waggon dressed up
in the god’s clothes. Everywhere the simple folk welcomed
him as the deity, and observed with wonder and delight
that a god walked about among men and ate and drank
just like other people. And when the months went by, and
the god’s fair young wife was seen to be with child, their joy
waxed greatly, for they thought, “Surely this is an omen of
a fruitful season.” It happened that the weather was then
so mild, and the promise of a plenteous harvest so fair, that
no man ever remembered such a year before. But one night
the god departed in haste, with his wife and all the gold and
silver and fine raiment which he had got together; and
though the Swedes made after him, they could not catch
him. He was over the hills and far away in Norway.[480]
Similar ceremonies appear to have been observed by the
|Similar customs in Gaul.|
peasantry of Gaul in antiquity; for Gregory of Tours, writing
in the sixth century of our era, says that at Autun the
people used to carry about an image of a goddess in a
waggon drawn by oxen. The intention of the ceremony
was to ensure the safety of the crops and vines, and the
rustics danced and sang in front of the image.[481] The old
historian identifies the goddess with Cybele, the Great
Mother goddess of Phrygia, and the identification would
seem to be correct. For we learn from another source that
men wrought up to a pitch of frenzy by the shrill music of
flutes and the clash of cymbals, sacrificed their virility
145to the goddess, dashing the severed portions of themselves
against her image.[482] Now this religious castration was a
marked feature of the Phrygian worship of Cybele, but it is
alien to Western modes of thought, although it still finds
favour with a section of the barbarous, fanatical, semi-Oriental
peasantry of Russia.[483] But whether of native or of
Eastern origin the rites of the goddess of Autun closely
conformed to those of the great Phrygian goddess and
appear to have been, like them, a perverted form of the
Sacred Marriage, which was designed to fertilise the earth,
and in which eunuchs, strange as it may seem, personated
the lovers of the goddess.[484]
|The custom of marrying gods to images or to living persons is found also
among uncivilised peoples.|
Thus the custom of marrying gods either to images or to
human beings was widespread among the nations of antiquity.
The ideas on which such a custom is based are too
crude to allow us to doubt that the civilised Babylonians,
Egyptians, and Greeks inherited it from their barbarous or
savage forefathers. This presumption is strengthened when
we find rites of a similar kind in vogue among the lower
races. Thus, for example, we are told that once upon a
|Custom of the Wotyaks.|
time the Wotyaks of the Malmyz district in Russia were
distressed by a series of bad harvests. They did not know
what to do, but at last concluded that their powerful but
mischievous god Keremet must be angry at being unmarried.
So a deputation of elders visited the Wotyaks of Cura and
came to an understanding with them on the subject. Then
they returned home, laid in a large stock of brandy, and
having made ready a gaily decked waggon and horses, they
drove in procession with bells ringing, as they do when they
are fetching home a bride, to the sacred grove at Cura.
There they ate and drank merrily all night, and next morning
they cut a square piece of turf in the grove and took it
home with them. After this, though it fared well with the
people of Malmyz, it fared ill with the people of Cura; for
in Malmyz the bread was good, but in Cura it was bad.
146Hence the men of Cura who had consented to the marriage
were blamed and roughly handled by their indignant fellow-villagers.
“What they meant by this marriage ceremony,”
says the writer who reports it, “it is not easy to imagine.
Perhaps, as Bechterew thinks, they meant to marry Keremet
to the kindly and fruitful Mukylćin, the Earth-wife, in order
that she might influence him for good.”[485] This carrying of
turf, like a bride, in a waggon from a sacred grove resembles
the Plataean custom of carting an oak log as a bride from
an ancient oak forest; and we have seen ground for thinking
that the Plataean ceremony, like its Wotyak counterpart, was
intended as a charm to secure fertility. When wells are
dug in Bengal, a wooden image of a god is made and
married to the goddess of water.[486]
|Custom of the Peruvian Indians.|
Often the bride destined for the god is not a log or a
clod, but a living woman of flesh and blood. The Indians
of a village in Peru have been known to marry a beautiful
girl, about fourteen years of age, to a stone shaped like a
human being, which they regarded as a god (huaca). All
the villagers took part in the marriage ceremony, which
lasted three days, and was attended with much revelry.
The girl thereafter remained a virgin and sacrificed to the
idol for the people. They shewed her the utmost reverence
and deemed her divine.[487] The Blackfoot Indians of North
|Marriage of a woman to the Sun among the Blackfoot Indians.|
America used to worship the Sun as their chief god, and they
held a festival every year in his honour. Four days before
the new moon of August the tribe halted on its march, and
all hunting was suspended. Bodies of mounted men were
on duty day and night to carry out the orders of the high
priest of the Sun. He enjoined the people to fast and to
take vapour baths during the four days before the new
moon. Moreover, with the help of his council, he chose the
Vestal who was to represent the Moon and to be married to
the Sun at the festival. She might be either a virgin or a
woman who had had but one husband. Any girl or woman
found to have discharged the sacred duties without fulfilling
the prescribed conditions was put to death. On the third
147day of preparation, after the last purification had been
observed, they built a round temple of the Sun. Posts were
driven into the ground in a circle; these were connected
with cross-pieces, and the whole was covered with leaves.
In the middle stood the sacred pole, supporting the roof. A
bundle of many small branches of sacred wood, wrapped in
a splendid buffalo robe, crowned the summit of the temple.
The entrance was on the east, and within the sanctuary
stood an altar on which rested the head of a buffalo.
Beside the altar was the place reserved for the Vestal.
Here, on a bed prepared for her, she slept “the sleep of war,”
as it was called. Her other duties consisted in maintaining
a sacred fire of fragrant herbs, in presenting a lighted pipe
to her husband the Sun, and in telling the high priest the
dream she dreamed during “the sleep of war.” On learning
it the priest had it proclaimed to the whole nation to the
beat of drum.[488] Every year about the middle of March,
when the season for fishing with the drag-net began, the
|Marriage of girls to fishing nets among the Hurons and Algonquins.|
Algonquins and Hurons married their nets to two young
girls, aged six or seven. At the wedding feast the net was
placed between the two maidens, and was exhorted to take
courage and catch many fish. The reason for choosing the
brides so young was to make sure that they were virgins.
The origin of the custom is said to have been this. One
year, when the fishing season came round, the Algonquins
cast their nets as usual, but took nothing. Surprised at
their want of success, they did not know what to make of it,
till the soul or genius (oki) of the net appeared to them in
the likeness of a tall well-built man, who said to them in a
great passion, “I have lost my wife and I cannot find one
who has known no other man but me; that is why you do
not succeed, and why you never will succeed till you give
me satisfaction on this head.” So the Algonquins held a
council and resolved to appease the spirit of the net by
marrying him to two such very young girls that he could
have no ground of complaint on that score for the future.
They did so, and the fishing turned out all that could be
wished. The thing got wind among their neighbours the
Hurons, and they adopted the custom. A share of the
148catch was always given to the families of the two girls who
acted as brides of the net for the year.[489]
|Sacred Marriage of the Sun-god and Earth-goddess among the Oraons.|
The Oraons of Bengal worship the Earth as a goddess,
and annually celebrate her marriage with the Sun-god
Dharmē at the time when the sāl tree is in blossom. The
ceremony is as follows. All bathe, then the men repair to
the sacred grove (sarnā), while the women assemble at the
house of the village priest. After sacrificing some fowls to
the Sun-god and the demon of the grove, the men eat and
drink. “The priest is then carried back to the village on
the shoulders of a strong man. Near the village the
women meet the men and wash their feet. With beating
of drums and singing, dancing, and jumping, all proceed to
the priest’s house, which has been decorated with leaves and
flowers. Then the usual form of marriage is performed
between the priest and his wife, symbolizing the supposed
union between Sun and Earth. After the ceremony all eat
and drink and make merry; they dance and sing obscene
songs, and finally indulge in the vilest orgies. The object
is to move the mother earth to become fruitful.”[490] Thus the
Sacred Marriage of the Sun and Earth, personated by the
priest and his wife, is celebrated as a charm to ensure the
fertility of the ground; and for the same purpose, on
the principle of homoeopathic magic, the people indulge in
a licentious orgy. Among the Sulka of New Britain, at
the village of Kolvagat, a certain man has charge of two
stone figures which are called respectively “Our grandfather”
(ngur es) and “Our grandmother” (ngur pei). They are
said to be kept in a house built specially for the purpose.
Fruits of the field are offered to them and left beside them
to rot. When their guardian puts the two figures with their
faces turned towards each other, the plantations are believed
to flourish; but when he sets them back to back, there is
dearth and the people suffer from eruptions on the skin.[491]149This turning of the two images face to face may be
regarded as a simple form of Sacred Marriage between
the two divine powers represented by them, who
are clearly supposed to control the fertility of the
plantations.
|Marriage of women to gods in India and Africa.|
At the village of Bas Doda, in the Gurgaon district of
North-Western India, a fair is held on the twenty-sixth
of the month Chait and the two following days. We are
told that formerly girls of the Dhinwar class used to be
married to the god at these festivals, and that they always
died soon afterwards. Of late years the practice is said to
have been discontinued.[492] In Behar during the month of
Sawan (August) crowds of women, calling themselves Nagin
or “wives of the snake,” go about for two and a half days
begging; during this time they may neither sleep under a
roof nor eat salt. Half the proceeds of their begging is given
to Brahmans, and the other half spent in salt and sweet-meats,
which are eaten by all the villagers.[493] Amongst the
Ewe-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast in West Africa
human wives of gods are very common. In Dahomey
they swarm, and it has even been estimated that every
fourth woman is devoted to the service of some deity.
The chief business of these female votaries is prostitution.
In every town there is at least one seminary where the
handsomest girls, between ten and twelve years of age,
are trained. They stay for three years, learning the
chants and dances peculiar to the worship of the gods,
and prostituting themselves to the priests and the inmates
of the male seminaries. At the end of their noviciate
they become public harlots. But no disgrace attaches to
their profession, for it is believed that they are married to
the god, and that their excesses are caused and directed by
him. Strictly speaking, they should confine their favours
to the male worshippers at the temple, but in practice they
bestow them indiscriminately. Children born of such unions
belong to the deity. As the wives of a god, these sacred
women may not marry. But they are not bound to the
service of the divinity for life. Some only bear his name and
150sacrifice to him on their birthdays.[494] Amongst these polygamous
West African gods the sacred python seems to be
particularly associated with the fertility of the earth; for he is
invoked in excessively wet, dry, and barren seasons, and the
time of year when young girls are sought out to be his
brides is when the millet is beginning to sprout.[495]
|Women married to water-gods.|
It deserves to be remarked that the supernatural being
to whom women are married is often a god or spirit of water.
Thus Mukasa, the god of the Victoria Nyanza lake, who was
propitiated by the Baganda every time they undertook a long
voyage, had virgins provided for him to serve as his wives.
Like the Vestals they were bound to chastity, but unlike
the Vestals they seem to have been often unfaithful. The
custom lasted until Mwanga was converted to Christianity.[496]
The Akikuyu of British East Africa worship the snake
of a certain river, and at intervals of several years they
marry the snake-god to women, but especially to young
girls. For this purpose huts are built by order of the
medicine-men, who there consummate the sacred marriage
with the credulous female devotees. If the girls do not
repair to the huts of their own accord in sufficient numbers,
they are seized and dragged thither to the embraces of the
deity. The offspring of these mystic unions appears to
be fathered on God (Ngai); certainly there are children
among the Akikuyu who pass for children of God.[497] In
Kengtung, one of the principal Shan states of Upper
Burma, the spirit of the Nawng Tung lake is regarded as
very powerful, and is propitiated with offerings in the eighth
month (about July) of each year. A remarkable feature of
the worship of this spirit consists in the dedication to him of
four virgins in marriage. Custom requires that this should
be done once in every three years. It was actually done
by the late king or chief (Sawbwa) in 1893, but down to
1901 the rite had not been performed by his successor. The
following are the chief features of the ceremony. The
virgins who are to wed the spirit of the lake must be of
pure Hkön race. Orders are sent out for all the Hkön of
151the valley to attend. From the unmarried women of suitable
age, ten are selected. These are as beautiful as may
be, and must be without spot or blemish. Four maidens out
of the ten are chosen by lot, and carefully dressed in new
garments. A festival is held, usually at the house of the
Chief Minister, where the girls sit on a raised platform.
Four old women, thought to be possessed by spirits, enter
and remain as long as the feast lasts. During this time
anything they may want, such as food, betel, or cheroots, is
handed to them by the four girls. Apparently the old
women pass for representatives of the spirit, and hence they
are waited on by the maidens destined to be his wives.
Dotage, blindness, or any great infirmity of age seems to be
accounted possession by a spirit for the purposes of this function.
When the feast is over, the maidens are formally
presented to the spirit, along with the various sacrifices and
offerings. They are next taken to the chief’s residence, where
strings are tied round their wrists by the ministers and elders
to guard them against ill-luck. Usually they sleep a night
or two at the palace, after which they may return to their
homes. There seems to be no objection to their marrying
afterwards. If nothing happens to any of the four, it is believed
that the spirit of the lake loves them but little; but
if one of them dies soon after the ceremony, it shews that
she has been accepted by him. The spirit is propitiated
with the sacrifice of pigs, fowls, and sometimes a buffalo.[498]
|Egyptian custom of drowning a girl as a sacrifice to the Nile.|
In this last custom the death of the woman is regarded
as a sign that the god has taken her to himself. Sometimes,
apparently, it has not been left to the discretion of
the divine bridegroom to take or leave his human bride;
she was made over to him once for all in death. When the
Arabs conquered Egypt they learned that at the annual
rise of the Nile the Egyptians were wont to deck a young
virgin in gay apparel and throw her into the river as a
sacrifice, in order to obtain a plentiful inundation. The
Arab general abolished the barbarous custom.[499] It is
152said that under the Tang dynasty the Chinese used to marry
a young girl to the Yellow River once a year by drowning
her in the water. For this purpose the witches chose the
fairest damsel they could find and themselves superintended
the fatal marriage. At last the local mandarin, a man of
sense and humanity, forbade the custom. But the witches
disregarded his edicts and made their preparations for the
usual murder. So when the day was come, the magistrate
appeared on the scene with his soldiers and had all the
witches bound and thrown into the river to drown, telling
them that no doubt the god would be able to choose
his bride for himself from among them.[500] The princes
of Koepang, a state in the East Indian island of Timor,
deemed themselves descended from crocodiles; and on
|Girls sacrificed as brides of crocodiles.|
the coronation of a new prince a solemn sacrifice was
made to the crocodiles in presence of the people. The
offerings consisted of a pig with red bristles and a young
girl prettily dressed, perfumed, and decked with flowers.
She was taken down to the bank of the river and set on a
sacred stone in a cave. Then one of the prince’s guards
summoned the crocodiles. Soon one of the beasts appeared
and dragged the girl down into the water. The people
thought that he married her, and that if he did not find her
a maid he would bring her back.[501] On festal occasions in
the same state a new-born girl was sometimes dedicated to
a crocodile, and then, with certain ceremonies of consecration,
brought up to be married to a priest.[502] It is said that
once, when the inhabitants of Cayeli in Buru—another East
Indian island—were threatened with destruction by a swarm
of crocodiles, they ascribed the misfortune to a passion
which the prince of the crocodiles had conceived for a
certain girl. Accordingly, they compelled the damsel’s
father to dress her in bridal array and deliver her over to
the clutches of her crocodile lover.[503]
|Virgin sacrificed as a bride to a jinnee of the sea
in the Maldive Islands.|
A usage of the same sort is reported to have prevailed
153in the Maldive Islands before the conversion of the inhabitants
to Islam. The famous Arab traveller Ibn Batutah
has described the custom and the manner in which it came
to an end. He was assured by several trustworthy natives,
whose names he gives, that when the people of the islands
were idolaters there appeared to them every month an evil
spirit among the jinn, who came from across the sea in the
likeness of a ship full of burning lamps. The wont of the
inhabitants, as soon as they perceived him, was to take a
young virgin, and, having adorned her, to lead her to a heathen
temple that stood on the shore, with a window looking out
to sea. There they left the damsel for the night, and when
they came back in the morning they found her a maid no
more, and dead. Every month they drew lots, and he upon
whom the lot fell gave up his daughter to the jinnee of the
sea. In time there came to them a Berber named Abu
’lberecat, who knew the Coran by heart. He lodged in the
house of an old woman of the isle of Mahal. One day,
visiting his hostess, he found that she had gathered her
family about her, and that the women were weeping as if
there were a funeral. On enquiring into the cause of their
distress, he learned that the lot had fallen on the old woman,
and that she had an only daughter, who must be slain by
the evil jinnee. Abu ’lberecat said to the old dame, “I will
go this night instead of thy daughter.” Now he was quite
beardless. So when the night was come they took him, and
after he had performed his ablutions, they put him in the
temple of idols. He set himself to recite the Coran; then
the demon appeared at the window, but the man went on
with his recitation. No sooner was the jinnee within hearing
of the holy words than he dived into the sea. When
morning broke, the old woman and her family and the people
of the island came, according to their custom, to carry away
the girl and burn her body. They found the stranger repeating
the Coran, and took him to their king, whose name was
Chenourazah, and made him relate his adventure. The
king was astonished at it. The Berber proposed to the
king that he should embrace Islam. Chenourazah said to
him, “Tarry with us till next month; if thou shalt do what
thou hast done, and shalt escape from the evil jinnee, I will
154be converted.” The stranger abode with the idolaters, and
God disposed the king’s heart to receive the true faith. So
before the month was out he became a Mussalman, he and
his wives and his children and the people of his court. And
when the next month began, the Berber was conducted to
the temple of idols; but the demon did not appear, and the
Berber set himself to recite the Coran till break of day.
Then the Sultan and his subjects broke the idols and
demolished the temple. The people of the island embraced
Islam and sent messengers to the other isles, and their
inhabitants were converted likewise. But by reason of the
demon many of the Maldive Islands were depopulated
before their conversion to Islam. When Ibn Batutah himself
landed in the country he knew nothing of these things.
One night, as he was going about his business, he heard of
a sudden people saying in a loud voice, “There is no God
but God,” and “God is great.” He saw children carrying
copies of the Coran on their heads, and women beating on
basins and vessels of copper. He was astonished at what
they did, and he said, “What has happened?” They
answered, “Dost thou not behold the sea?” He looked
towards the sea, and beheld in the darkness, as it were, a
great ship full of burning lamps and cressets. They said to
him, “That is the demon. It is his wont to shew himself
once a month; but after we have done that which thou hast
seen, he returns to his place and does us no manner of
harm.”[504]
|The story based on the phosphorescence of the sea.|
It occurred to me that this myth of the demon lover may
have been based on some physical phenomenon, electrical,
lunar, or otherwise, which is periodically seen at night in
the Maldive Islands. Accordingly I consulted Professor J.
Stanley Gardiner, our foremost authority on the archipelago.
His answer, which confirms my conjecture, runs thus: “A
peculiar phosphorescence, like the glow of a lamp hidden by
a roughened glass shade, is occasionally visible on lagoon
shoals in the Maldives. I imagine it to have been due to
some single animal with a greater phosphorescence than any
at present known to us. A periodical appearance at some
155phase of the moon due to reproduction is not improbable
and has parallels. The myth still exists in the Maldives, but
in a rather different form.” He adds that “a number of
these animals might of course appear on some shoal near
Male,” the principal island of the group. To the eyes of
the ignorant and superstitious such a mysterious glow,
suddenly lighting up the sea in the dusk of the evening,
might well appear a phantom ship, hung with burning lamps,
bearing down on the devoted islands, and in the stillness of
night the roar of the surf on the barrier reef might sound in
their ears like the voice of the demon calling for his prey.[505]
|Stories of the Perseus and Andromeda type.|
Ibn Batutah’s narrative of the demon lover and his mortal
brides closely resembles a well-known type of folk-tale, of
which versions have been found from Japan and Annam in
the East to Senegambia, Scandinavia, and Scotland in the
West. The story varies in details from people to people,
but as commonly told it runs thus. A certain country is
infested by a many-headed serpent, dragon, or other monster,
which would destroy the whole people if a human victim,
generally a virgin, were not delivered up to him periodically.
Many victims have perished, and at last it has fallen to the
lot of the king’s own daughter to be sacrificed. She is
exposed to the monster, but the hero of the tale, generally
a young man of humble birth, interposes in her behalf, slays
the monster, and receives the hand of the princess as his
reward. In many of the tales the monster, who is sometimes
described as a serpent, inhabits the water of a sea, a lake, or
a fountain. In other versions he is a serpent or dragon who
takes possession of the springs of water, and only allows the
water to flow or the people to make use of it on condition of
receiving a human victim.[506]
156|Water-spirits conceived as serpents or dragons.|
It would probably be a mistake to dismiss all these tales
as pure inventions of the story-teller. Rather we may
suppose that they reflect a real custom of sacrificing girls or
women to be the wives of water-spirits, who are very often
conceived as great serpents or dragons. Elsewhere I have
cited many instances of this belief in serpent-shaped spirits
of water;[507] here it may be worth while to add a few
more. Thus the Warramunga of Central Australia perform
elaborate ceremonies to appease or coerce a gigantic, but
purely mythical water-snake who is said to have destroyed
a number of people.[508] Some of the natives of western
Australia fear to approach large pools, supposing them to be
inhabited by a great serpent, who would kill them if they
dared to drink or draw water there by night.[509] The Indians
of New Granada believed that when the mother of all mankind,
named Bachue, was grown old, she and her husband
plunged into the Lake of Iguague, where they were
changed into two enormous serpents, which still live in the
lake and sometimes shew themselves.[510] The Oyampi
Indians of French Guiana imagine that each waterfall
has a guardian in the shape of a monstrous snake, who
lies hidden under the eddy of the cascade, but has sometimes
been seen to lift up its huge head. To see it is fatal.
Canoe and Indians are then dragged down to the bottom,
where the monster swallows all the men, and sometimes the
canoe also. Hence the Oyampis never name a waterfall till
they have passed it, for fear that the snake at the bottom of
the water might hear its name and attack the rash intruders.[511]
The Huichol Indians of Mexico adore water. Springs
are sacred, and the gods in them are mothers or serpents,
that rise with the clouds and descend as fructifying rain.[512]
The Tarahumares, another Indian tribe of Mexico, think
157that every river, pool, and spring has its serpent, who causes
the water to come up out of the earth. All these water-serpents
are easily offended; hence the Tarahumares place their
houses some little way from the water, and will not sleep
near it when they are on a journey. Whenever they construct
weirs to catch fish, they take care to offer fish to the
water-serpent of the river; and when they are away from
home and are making pinole, that is, toasted maize-meal,
they drop the first of the pinole into the water as an
offering to the serpents, who would otherwise try to seize
them and chase them back to their own land.[513] In Basutoland
the rivers Ketane and Maletsunyane tumble, with a roar
of waters and a cloud of iridescent spray, into vast chasms
hundreds of feet deep. The Basutos fear to approach the
foot of these huge falls, for they think that a spirit in the
shape of a gigantic snake haunts the seething cauldron
which receives the falling waters.[514]
|Sacrifices of human beings to water-spirits.|
The perils of the sea, of floods, of rapid rivers, of deep
pools and lakes, naturally account for the belief that water-spirits
are fickle and dangerous beings, who need to be
appeased by sacrifices. Sometimes these sacrifices consist of
animals, such as horses and bulls,[515] but often the victims are
human beings. Thus at the mouth of the Bonny River
there is a dangerous bar on which vessels trading to the
river have been lost. This is bad for business, and accordingly
the negroes used to sacrifice a young man annually to
the spirit of the bar. The handsomest youth was chosen
for the purpose, and for many months before the ceremony
he lodged with the king. The people regarded him as
sacred or ju-ju, and whatever he touched, even when he
passed casually through the streets, shared his sanctity and
158belonged to him. Hence whenever he appeared in public
the inhabitants fled before him, lest he should touch their
garments or anything they might be carrying. He was
kept in ignorance of the fate in store for him, and no one
might inform him of it under pain of death. On an
appointed day he was taken out to the bar in a canoe and
induced to jump into the water. Then the rowers plied
their paddles and left him to drown. A similar ceremony
used to be performed at the New Calabar River, but the
victim was a culprit. He was thrown into the water to be
devoured by the sharks, which are there the principal fetish
or ju-ju.[516] The chiefs of Duke Town, on the same coast of
Guinea, were wont to make an annual offering to the river.
A young woman of a light colour, or an albino, was chosen
as the victim. On a set day they decked her with finery,
took her down to Parrot Island, and with much ceremony
plunged her in the stream. The fishermen of Efiat, at the
mouth of the river, are said still to observe the rite in order
to ensure a good catch of fish.[517] The King of Dahomey
used to send from time to time a man, dressed out with the
insignia of office, to Whydah to be drowned at the mouth
of the river. The intention of the sacrifice was to attract
merchant ships.[518] When a fisherman has been carried off
by a crocodile, some of the natives on the banks of Lake
Tanganyika take this for a sign that the spirit deems himself
slighted, since he is obliged to come and find victims for
himself instead of having them presented to him. Hence
the sorcerers generally decide that a second victim is
wanted; so, having chosen one, they bind him hand
and foot and fling him into the lake to feed the crocodiles.[519]
The crater of the volcano Tolucan in Mexico encloses two
lakes of clear cold water, surrounded by gloomy forests of
pine. Here, in the eighteenth month of the Toltec year,
answering to February, children beautifully dressed and
decked with flowers and gay feathers used to be drowned as
159an offering to Tlaloc, the god of the waters, who had a fine
temple on the spot.[520] The Chams of Annam have traditions
of a time when living men were thrown into the sea every
year in order to propitiate the deities who looked after the
fishing, and when children of good family were drowned in
the water-channels in order that the rice-fields might be duly
irrigated.[521]
|Water-spirits conceived as beneficent beings who dispense fertility.|
This last instance brings out a more kindly aspect of the
water-spirits. If these beings are dreaded by the fisherman
and the mariner who tempt the angry sea, and by the
huntsman who has to swim or ford the rushing rivers, they
are viewed in a different light by the shepherd and the
husbandman in hot and arid lands, where the pasture for the
cattle and the produce of the fields alike depend on the
supply of water, and where prolonged drought means
starvation and death for man and beast. To men in such
circumstances the spirits of the waters are beneficent beings,
the dispensers of life and fertility, whether their blessings
descend as rain from heaven or well up as springs of
bubbling water in the parched desert. In the Semitic East,
for example, where the rainfall is precarious or confined to
certain seasons, the face of the earth is bare and withered
for most of the year, except where it is kept fresh by irrigation
or by the percolation of underground water. Here,
accordingly, the local gods or Baalim had their seats
originally in spots of natural fertility, by fountains and the
banks of rivers, in groves and tangled thickets and green glades
of mountain hollows and deep watercourses. As lords of the
springs and subterranean waters they were supposed to be
the sources of all the gifts of the land, the corn, the wine and
the oil, the wool and the flax, the vines and the fig-trees.[522]
|Water-spirits conceived as bestowing offspring on women.|
Where water-spirits are thus conceived as the authors of
fertility in general, it is natural that they should be held to
extend the sphere of their operations to men and animals;
in other words, that the power of bestowing offspring on
barren women and cattle should be ascribed to them. This
ascription comes out clearly in a custom observed by Syrian
160women at the present day. Some of the channels of the
Orontes are used for irrigation, but at a certain season of
the year the streams are turned off and the dry bed of the
channels is cleared of mud and any other matter that might
clog the flow of the water. The first night that the water is
turned on again, it is said to have the power of procreation.
Accordingly barren women take their places in the channel,
waiting for the embrace of the water-spirit in the rush of the
stream.[523] Again, a pool of water in a cave at Juneh enjoys
the same reputation. The people think a childless couple
who bathe in the water will have offspring.[524] In India many
wells are supposed to cure sterility, which is universally
attributed to the agency of evil spirits. The water of seven
wells is collected on the night of the Diwali or feast of
lamps, and barren women bathe in it in order to remove
their reproach. There is a well in Orissa where the priests
throw betel-nuts into the mud. Childless women scramble for
the nuts, and she who finds them will be a happy mother
before long. For the same reason, after childbirth an Indian
mother is taken to worship the village well. She walks
round it in the course of the sun and smears the platform
with red lead, which may be a substitute for blood. A
Khandh priest will take a childless woman to the meeting
of two streams, where he makes an offering to the god of
births and sprinkles the woman with water in order to rid her of
the influence of the spirit who hinders conception.[525] In the
Punjaub a barren woman who desires to become a mother
will sometimes be let down into a well on a Sunday or
Tuesday night during the Diwali festival. After stripping
herself of her clothes and bathing in the water, she is drawn
up again and performs the chaukpurna ceremony with
incantations taught by a wizard. When this ceremony
has been performed, the well is supposed to run dry; its
quickening and fertilising virtue has been abstracted by the
woman.[526] The Indian sect of the Vallabhacharyas or Maharajas
believe that bathing in a sacred well is a remedy for
161barrenness in women.[527] In antiquity the waters of Sinuessa
in Campania were thought to bless childless wives with
offspring.[528] To this day Syrian women resort to hot springs
in order to obtain children from the saint or jinnee of the
waters.[529] In Scotland the same fertilising virtue used to be,
and probably still is, ascribed to certain springs. Wives who
wished to become mothers formerly resorted to the well of
St. Fillan at Comrie, and to the wells of St. Mary at Whitekirk
and in the Isle of May.[530] In the Aran Islands, off the
coast of Galway, women desirous of children pray at St.
Eany’s Well, by the Angels’ Walk, and the men pray at the
rag well by the church of the Four Comely Ones at Onaght.[531]
Child’s Well in Oxford was supposed to have the virtue of
making barren women to bring forth.[532] Near Bingfield in
Northumberland there is a copious sulphur spring known as
the Borewell. On the Sunday following the fourth day of
July, that is about Midsummer Day, according to the old
style, great crowds of people used to assemble at the well
from all the surrounding hamlets and villages. The scene
was like a fair, stalls for the sale of refreshments being
brought and set up for the occasion. The neighbouring
slopes were terraced, and seats formed for the convenience
of pilgrims and visitors. Barren women prayed at the
well that they might become mothers. If their faith was
strong enough, their prayers were heard within the year.[533]
|Love of river-spirits for women in Greek mythology.|
In Greek mythology similar ideas of the procreative
power of water meet us in the stories of the loves of rivers
for women and in the legends which traced the descent of
heroes and heroines from river-gods.[534] In Sophocles’s play
of The Trachinian Women Dejanira tells how she was
162wooed by the river Achelous, who came to her father and
claimed her hand, appearing in the likeness now of a bull,
now of a serpent, and now of a being with the body of a
man and the front of an ox, while streams of water flowed
from his shaggy beard. She relates, too, how glad she was
when Hercules presented himself and vanquished the river-god
in single combat and took her to wife.[535] The legend
perhaps preserves a reminiscence of that custom of providing
a water-god with a human wife which has been practised
elsewhere. The motive of such a custom may have varied
with the particular conception which happened to prevail of
the character of the water-god. Where he was supposed to
be a cruel and destructive being, who drowned men and laid
waste the country, a wife would be offered simply to keep
him in good humour, and so prevent him from doing mischief.
But where he was viewed as the procreative power on whom
the fertility of the earth and the fecundity of men and
animals depended, his marriage would be deemed necessary
for the purpose of enabling him to discharge his beneficent
functions. This belief in the amorous character of rivers
comes out plainly in a custom which was observed at Troy
down to classical times. Maidens about to marry were
wont to bathe in the Scamander, saying as they did so,
“Scamander, take my virginity.” A similar custom appears
to have been observed at the river Maeander, and perhaps
in other parts of the Greek world. Occasionally, it would
seem, young men took advantage of the practice to ravish
the girls, and the offspring of such a union was fathered on
the river-god.[536] The bath which a Greek bride and bridegroom
regularly took before marriage appears to have been
intended to bless their union with offspring through the
fertilising influence of the water-nymphs.[537]
Thus it would appear that in many parts of the world a
163custom has prevailed of sacrificing human beings to water-spirits,
and that in not a few cases the ceremony has taken
the form of making over a woman to the spirit to be his
wife, in order either to pacify his fury or to give play to his
generative powers. Where the water-spirit was regarded as
female, young men might be presented to her for a similar
purpose, and this may be the reason why the victims
sacrificed to water-spirits are sometimes males. Among
civilised peoples these customs survive for the most part
only in popular tales, of which the legend of Perseus and
Andromeda, with its mediaeval counterpart of St. George
and the Dragon, is the most familiar example. But
occasionally they appear to have left traces of themselves in
ceremonies and pageants. Thus at Furth in Bavaria a
|Midsummer custom of slaying the dragon at Furth in Bavaria.|
drama called the Slaying of the Dragon used to be acted
every year about Midsummer, on the Sunday after Corpus
Christi Day. Crowds of spectators flocked from the
neighbourhood to witness it. The scene of the performance
was the public square. On a platform stood or sat a
princess wearing a golden crown on her head, and as many
silver ornaments on her body as could be borrowed for the
purpose. She was attended by a maid of honour. Opposite
her was stationed the dragon, a dreadful monster of painted
canvas stretched on a wooden skeleton and moved by two
men inside. From time to time the creature would rush
with gaping jaws into the dense crowd of spectators, who
retreated hastily, tumbling over each other in their anxiety
to escape. Then a knight in armour, attended by his men-at-arms,
rode forth and asked the princess what she did “on
this hard stone,” and why she looked so sad. She told him
that the dragon was coming to eat her up. On that the
knight bade her be of good cheer, for that with his sword he
would rid the country of the monster. With that he
charged the dragon, thrusting his spear into its maw and
taking care to stab a bladder of bullock’s blood which was
there concealed. The gush of blood which followed was an
indispensable part of the show, and if the knight missed his
stroke he was unmercifully jeered and taunted by the crowd.
Having despatched the monster with sword and pistol, the
knight then hastened to the princess and told her that he
164had slain the dragon who had so long oppressed the town.
In return she tied a wreath round his arm, and announced
that her noble father and mother would soon come to give
them half the kingdom. The men-at-arms then escorted
the knight and the princess to the tavern, there to end the
day with dance and revelry. Bohemians and Bavarians
came from many miles to witness this play of the Slaying
of the Dragon, and when the monster’s blood streamed forth
they eagerly mopped it up, along with the blood-soaked
earth, in white cloths, which they afterwards laid on the
flax-fields, in order that the flax might thrive and grow tall.
For the “dragon’s blood” was thought to be a sure protection
against witchcraft.[538] This use of the blood suffices to
prove that the Slaying of the Dragon at Furth was not a
mere popular spectacle, but a magical rite designed to
fertilise the fields. As such it probably descended from a
very remote antiquity, and may well have been invested with
a character of solemnity, if not of tragedy, long before it
degenerated into a farce.
|St. Romain delivers Rouen from a dragon.|
More famous was the dragon from which, according to
legend, St. Romain delivered Rouen, and far more impressive
was the ceremony with which, down to the French
Revolution, the city commemorated its deliverance. The
stately and beautiful edifices of the Middle Ages, which still
adorn Rouen, formed a fitting background for a pageant
which carried the mind back to the days when Henry II.
of England and Richard Cœur-de-Lion, Dukes of Normandy,
still had their palace in this ancient capital of
their ancestral domains. Legend ran that about the year
520 A.D. a forest or marsh near the city was infested by a
165monstrous beast in the shape of a serpent or dragon, which
every day wrought great harm to Rouen and its neighbourhood,
devouring man and beast, causing boats and mariners
on the river Seine to perish, and inflicting other woes innumerable
on the commonwealth. At last the archbishop,
St. Romain, resolved to beard the monster in his den. He
could get none to accompany him but a prisoner condemned
to death for murder. On their approach the dragon made
as though he would swallow them up; but the archbishop,
relying on the divine help, made the sign of the cross, and
at once the monster became so gentle that he suffered the
saint to bind him with his stole and the murderer to lead
him like a lamb to the slaughter. Thus they went in procession
to a public place in Rouen, where the dragon was
burnt in the presence of the people and its ashes cast into
the river. The murderer was pardoned for his services;
and the fame of the deed having gone abroad, St. Romain,
or his successor St. Ouen, whose memory is enshrined in
a church of dreamlike beauty at Rouen, obtained from King
Dagobert in perpetuity a privilege for the archbishop, dean,
and canons of the cathedral, to wit, that every year on
Ascension Day, the anniversary of the miracle, they should
|In memory of this deliverance the archbishop and chapter of Rouen were
annually allowed to pardon a malefactor on Ascension Day.|
pardon and release from prison a malefactor, whomsoever
they chose, and whatever the crime of which he had been
guilty. This privilege, unique in France, was claimed by
the chapter of the cathedral as early as the beginning of the
thirteenth century; for in 1210, the governor of the castle of
Rouen having boggled at giving up a prisoner, the chapter
appealed to King Philip Augustus, who caused an enquiry
to be made into the claim. At this enquiry nine witnesses
swore that never in the reigns of Henry II. and Richard
Cœur-de-Lion, Dukes of Normandy, had there been any
difficulty raised on the point in question. Henceforward
the chapter seems to have enjoyed the right without opposition
down to 1790, when it exercised its privilege of mercy
for the last time. Next year the face of things had changed;
there was neither archbishop nor chapter at Rouen. A
register of the names of the prisoners who were pardoned,
together with an account of their crimes, was kept and still
exists. Only a few of the names in the thirteenth century
166are known, and there are many gaps in the first half of the
fourteenth century; but from that time onward the register
is nearly complete. Most of the crimes appear to have
been murder or homicide.
|Ceremony of the annual pardon and release of a prisoner at Rouen.|
The proceedings, on the great day of pardon, varied
somewhat in different ages. The following account is
based in great part on a description written in the reign of
Henry III. and published at Rouen in 1587. Fifteen
days before Ascension Day the canons of the cathedral
summoned the king’s officers to stop all proceedings against
criminals detained in prison. Afterwards, on the Monday
of Rogations, two canons examined the prisoners and took
their confessions, going from prison to prison till Ascension
Day. On that day, about seven o’clock in the morning,
all the canons assembled in the chapter-house and invoked
the grace of the Holy Spirit by the hymn Veni creator
Spiritus, and other prayers. Also they made oath to reveal
none of the depositions of the criminals, but to hold them
sacred under the seal of confession. The depositions
having been taken and the commissioners heard, the chapter,
after due deliberation, named him or her among the
prisoners who was to receive the benefit of the privilege. A
card bearing the prisoner’s name and sealed with the seal
of the chapter was then sent to the members of parliament,
who were sitting in full assembly, clad in their red robes, in
the great hall of the palace to receive the nomination of the
prisoner and to give it legal effect. The criminal was then
released and pardoned. Immediately the minster bells
began to ring, the doors of the cathedral were flung open,
the organ pealed, hymns were sung, candles lit, and every
solemnity observed in token of joy and gladness. Further,
in presence of the conclave all the depositions of the other
prisoners were burnt on the altar of the chapter-house.
Then the archbishop and the whole of the clergy of the
cathedral went in procession to the great square known as
the Old Tower near the river, carrying the shrines and
reliquaries of the minster, and accompanied by the joyous
music of hautboys and clarions. Apparently the Old
Tower occupies the site of the ancient castle of the Dukes
of Normandy, and the custom of going thither in procession
167came down from a time when the prisoners were detained
in the castle-dungeons. In the square there stood, and still
stands, a platform of stone raised high above the ground
and approached by flights of steps. Thither they brought
the shrine (fierte) of St. Romain, and thither too was led
the pardoned prisoner. He ascended the platform, and after
confessing his sins and receiving absolution he thrice lifted
the shrine of St. Romain, while the innumerable multitude
assembled in the square cried aloud, each time the shrine
was lifted, “Noel! Noel! Noel!” which was understood
to mean “God be with us!” That done, the procession
re-formed and returned to the cathedral. At the head
walked a beadle clad in violet, who bore on a pole the
wicker effigy of the winged dragon of Notre Dame, holding
a large fish in its mouth. The whispers and cries excited
by the appearance of the monster were drowned in the loud
fanfares of cornets, clarions, and trumpets. Behind the
musicians, who wore the liveries of the Master of the
Brotherhood of Notre Dame with his arms emblazoned on
an ensign of taffeta, came the carved silver-gilt shrine of
Notre Dame. After it followed the clergy of the cathedral
to the number of two hundred, clad in robes of violet or
crimson silk, bearing banners, crosses, and shrines, and
chanting the hymn De resurrectione Domini. Then came
the archbishop, giving his blessing to the great multitude who
thronged the streets. The prisoner himself walked behind,
bareheaded, crowned with flowers, carrying one end of the
litter which supported the shrine of St. Romain; the
fetters he had worn hung from the litter; and with him
paced, with lighted torches in their hands, the men or
women who, for the last seven years, had in like manner
received their pardon. Another beadle, in a violet livery,
marched behind bearing aloft on a pole the wicker effigy
of the dragon (Gargouille) destroyed by St. Romain; in its
mouth the dragon sometimes held a live animal, such as a
young fox, a rabbit, or a sucking pig, and it was attended
by the Brotherhood of the Gargouillards. The clergy of the
thirty-two parishes of Rouen also took part in the procession,
which moved from the Old Tower to the cathedral
amid the acclamations of the crowd, while from every
168church tower in the city the bells rang out a joyous peal,
the great Georges d’Amboise thundering above them all.
After mass had been performed in the cathedral, the prisoner
was taken to the house of the Master of the Brotherhood of
St. Romain, where he was magnificently feasted, lodged,
and served, however humble his rank. Next morning he
again presented himself to the chapter, where, kneeling in
the presence of a great assembly, he was severely reproved
for his sins and admonished to give thanks to God, to
St. Romain, and to the canons for the pardon he had
received in virtue of the privilege.
|History and meaning of the privilege of the Fierte or shrine of
St. Romain at Rouen.|
What was the origin and meaning of this remarkable
privilege of the Fierte, as the shrine of St. Romain was
called? Its history has been carefully investigated by A.
Floquet, Chief Registrar of the Royal Court of Rouen, with
the aid of all the documentary evidence, including the
archives both at Rouen and Paris. He appears to have
shewn conclusively that the association of St. Romain with
the custom is comparatively late. We possess a life of the
saint in Latin verse, dating from the eighth century, in which
the miracles said to have been wrought by him are set
forth in a strain of pompous eulogy. Yet neither in it nor
in any of the other early lives of St. Romain and St. Ouen,
nor in any of the older chronicles and martyrologies, is a
single word said about the destruction of the dragon and
the deliverance of the prisoner. It is not till 1394 that we
meet for the first time with a mention of the miracle.
Moreover, the deliverance of the prisoner can hardly have
been instituted in honour of St. Romain, else it would have
taken place on the twenty-third of October, the day on which
the Church of Rouen celebrates the translation of the saint’s
bones to the cathedral. St. Romain died in 638, and his
bones were transferred to the cathedral of Rouen at the end
of the eleventh or the beginning of the twelfth century.
Further, Floquet has adduced strong grounds for believing
that the privilege claimed by the chapter of Rouen of
annually pardoning a condemned criminal on Ascension
Day was unknown in the early years of the twelfth century,
and that it originated in the reign of Henry I. or Stephen,
if not in that of Henry II. He supposes the ceremony to
169have been in its origin a scenic representation of the
triumph of Christ over sin and death, the deliverance of the
condemned prisoner symbolising the deliverance of man from
the yoke of corruption, and bringing home to the people in
a visible form the great mystery which the festival of the
Ascension was instituted to commemorate. Such dramatic
expositions of Christian doctrine, he points out, were common
in the Middle Ages.
|Suggested origin of the custom.|
Plausible as is this solution of the problem, it can
scarcely be regarded as satisfactory. Had this been the
real origin of the privilege, we should expect to find the
Ascension of Christ either plainly enacted, or at least
distinctly alluded to in the ceremony; but this, so far as
we can learn, was not so. Again, would it not savour of
blasphemy to represent the sinless and glorified Redeemer
by a ruffian stained with the blackest crimes? Moreover,
the part played by the dragon in the legend and in the
spectacle seems too important to allow us to explain it
away, with Floquet, as a mere symbol of the suppression
of paganism by St. Romain. The tale of the conquest of
the dragon is older than Christianity, and cannot be
explained by it. At Rouen the connexion of St. Romain
with the story seems certainly to be late, but that does not
prove the story itself to be late also. Judging from the
analogy of similar tales elsewhere, we may conjecture that
in the Rouen version the criminal represents a victim
annually sacrificed to a water-spirit or other fabulous being,
while the Christian saint has displaced a pagan hero, who
was said to have delivered the victim from death and put
an end to the sacrifice by slaying the monster. Thus it
seems possible that the custom of annually pardoning a
condemned malefactor may have superseded an older
practice of treating him as a public scapegoat, who died
to save the rest of the people. In the sequel we shall see
that such customs have been observed in many lands. It
is not incredible that at Rouen a usage of this sort should
have survived in a modified shape from pagan times down
to the twelfth century, and that the Church should at last
have intervened to save the wretch and turn a relic of
heathendom to the glory of God and St. Romain. But
170this explanation of the famous privilege of the Fierte is
put forward with a full sense of the difficulties attending it,
and with no wish to dogmatise on so obscure a subject.[539]
CHAPTER XIII THE KINGS OF ROME AND ALBA — § 1. Numa and Egeria
171
|Egeria at Nemi a nymph of water and of the oak, perhaps a form of Diana.|
From the foregoing survey of custom and legend we
may infer that the sacred marriage of the powers both of
vegetation and of water has been celebrated by many
peoples for the sake of promoting the fertility of the earth,
on which the life of animals and men ultimately depends,
and that in such rites the part of the divine bridegroom or
bride is often sustained by a man or woman. The evidence
may, therefore, lend some countenance to the conjecture
that in the sacred grove at Nemi, where the powers of
vegetation and of water manifested themselves in the fair
forms of shady woods, tumbling cascades, and glassy lake,
a marriage like that of our King and Queen of May was
annually celebrated between the mortal King of the Wood
and the immortal Queen of the Wood, Diana. In this
connexion an important figure in the grove was the
water-nymph Egeria, who was worshipped by pregnant
women because she, like Diana, could grant them an easy
delivery.[540] From this it seems fairly safe to conclude that,
like many other springs, the water of Egeria was credited
with a power of facilitating conception as well as delivery.
The votive offerings found on the spot, which clearly refer to
the begetting of children,[541] may possibly have been dedicated
to Egeria rather than to Diana, or perhaps we should rather
say that the water-nymph Egeria is only another form of the
great nature-goddess Diana herself, the mistress of sounding
172rivers as well as of umbrageous woods,[542] who had her home
by the lake and her mirror in its calm waters, and whose
Greek counterpart Artemis loved to haunt meres and
springs.[543] The identification of Egeria with Diana is confirmed
by a statement of Plutarch that Egeria was one
of the oak-nymphs[544] whom the Romans believed to preside
over every green oak-grove;[545] for while Diana was a goddess
of the woodlands in general she appears to have been
intimately associated with oaks in particular, especially at
her sacred grove of Nemi.[546] Perhaps, then, Egeria was the
fairy of a spring that flowed from the roots of a sacred
oak. Such a spring is said to have gushed from the foot
of the great oak at Dodona, and from its murmurous
flow the priestess drew oracles.[547] Among the Greeks
a draught of water from certain sacred springs or wells
was supposed to confer prophetic powers.[548] This would
explain the more than mortal wisdom with which, according
to tradition, Egeria inspired her royal husband or lover
Numa.[549] When we remember how very often in early
society the king is held responsible for the fall of rain and
the fruitfulness of the earth, it seems hardly rash to conjecture
that in the legend of the nuptials of Numa and
|The legend of the nuptials of Numa and Egeria may be a reminiscence of a sacred
marriage which the kings of Rome contracted with a goddess of water and of vegetation.|
Egeria we have a reminiscence of a sacred marriage which
the old Roman kings regularly contracted with a goddess
of vegetation and water for the purpose of enabling him
to discharge his divine or magical functions. In such a
rite the part of the goddess might be played either by an
image or a woman, and if by a woman, probably by the
Queen. If there is any truth in this conjecture, we may
173suppose that the King and Queen of Rome masqueraded
as god and goddess at their marriage, exactly as the King
and Queen of Egypt appear to have done.[550] The legend of
Numa and Egeria points to a sacred grove rather than to a
house as the scene of the nuptial union, which, like the
marriage of the King and Queen of May, or of the vine-god
and the Queen of Athens, may have been annually celebrated
as a charm to ensure the fertility not only of the
earth but of man and beast. Now, according to some
accounts, the scene of the marriage was no other than the
sacred grove of Nemi, and on quite independent grounds we
have been led to suppose that in that same grove the King
of the Wood was wedded to Diana. The convergence of
the two distinct lines of enquiry suggests that the legendary
union of the Roman king with Egeria may have been a
reflection or duplicate of the union of the King of the
Wood with Egeria or her double Diana. This does not
imply that the Roman kings ever served as Kings of the
Wood in the Arician grove, but only that they may originally
have been invested with a sacred character of the same
general kind, and may have held office on similar terms.
To be more explicit, it is possible that they reigned, not
by right of birth, but in virtue of their supposed divinity
as representatives or embodiments of a god, and that as
such they mated with a goddess, and had to prove their
fitness from time to time to discharge their divine functions
by engaging in a severe bodily struggle, which may often
have proved fatal to them, leaving the crown to their
victorious adversary. Our knowledge of the Roman kingship
is far too scanty to allow us to affirm any one of these
propositions with confidence; but at least there are some
scattered hints or indications of a similarity in all these
respects between the priests of Nemi and the kings of
Rome, or perhaps rather between their remote predecessors
in the dark ages which preceded the dawn of legend.[551]
174§ 2. The King as Jupiter
|The Roman king seems to have personated Jupiter and worn his costume.|
In the first place, then, it would seem that the Roman
king personated no less a deity than Jupiter himself. For
down to imperial times victorious generals celebrating a
triumph, and magistrates presiding at the games in the
Circus, wore the costume of Jupiter, which was borrowed for
the occasion from his great temple on the Capitol; and it
has been held with a high degree of probability both by
ancients and moderns that in so doing they copied the
traditionary attire and insignia of the Roman kings.[552] They
rode a chariot drawn by four laurel-crowned horses through
the city, where every one else went on foot;[553] they wore
175purple robes embroidered or spangled with gold; in the
right hand they bore a branch of laurel and in the left hand
an ivory sceptre topped with an eagle; a wreath of laurel
crowned their brows; their face was reddened with vermilion;
and over their head a slave held a heavy crown of
massy gold fashioned in the likeness of oak leaves.[554] In
this attire the assimilation of the man to the god comes out
above all in the eagle-topped sceptre, the oaken crown, and
the reddened face. For the eagle was the bird of Jove, the
oak was his sacred tree, and the face of his image standing
in his four-horse chariot on the Capitol was in like manner
regularly dyed red on festivals; indeed, so important was it
deemed to keep the divine features properly rouged that
one of the first duties of the censors was to contract for
having this done.[555] The Greeks sometimes painted red the
face or the whole body of the wine-god Dionysus.[556] These
customs may have been a substitute for an older practice of
feeding a god by smearing the face, and especially the lips,
176of his idol with the blood of a sacrificial victim. Many
examples of such a practice might be adduced from the
religion of barbarous peoples.[557] As the triumphal procession
always ended in the temple of Jupiter on the Capitol, it was
peculiarly appropriate that the head of the victor should
be graced by a crown of oak leaves, for not only was every
oak consecrated to Jupiter,[558] but the Capitoline temple of
the god was said to have been built by Romulus beside a
sacred oak, venerated by shepherds, to which the king
attached the spoils won by him from the enemy’s general in
battle.[559] We are expressly told that the oak crown was
|The oak crown as an emblem of Jupiter and of the Roman emperors.|
sacred to Capitoline Jupiter;[560] a passage of Ovid proves
that it was regarded as the god’s special emblem. Writing
in exile on the shores of the Black Sea, the poet sends the
book which he has just composed to Rome to be published
there; he personifies the volume and imagines it passing
along the Sacred Way and up to the door of the emperor’s
stately palace on the Palatine hill. Above the portal hung
shining arms and a crown of oak leaves. At the sight the
poet starts: “Is this, quoth I, the house of Jove? For sure
to my prophetic soul the oaken crown was reason good to
think it so.”[561] The senate had granted Augustus the right
177to have the wreath of oak always suspended over his door;[562]
and elsewhere Ovid counts this among the more than mortal
honours bestowed on the emperor.[563] On the Capitol at Cirta
there stood a silver image of Jupiter wearing a silver crown
of oak leaves and acorns.[564] Similarly at Dodona, the most
famous sanctuary of the oak in Greece, the image of Zeus
appears to have worn a chaplet of oak leaves; for the god
is constantly thus portrayed on coins of Epirus.[565] And just
as Roman kings appear to have personated the oak-god
Jupiter, so Greek kings appear to have personated the oak-god
Zeus. The legendary Salmoneus of Elis is certainly
reported to have done so;[566] Periphas, an ancient king of
Athens, is said to have been styled Zeus by his people, and
to have been changed into an eagle by his jealous name-sake.[567]
In Homer kings are often spoken of as nurtured by
Zeus and divine.[568] Indeed we are told that in ancient days
every Greek king was called Zeus.[569]
|To the Romans the breach between the human and the divine was
not so wide as it seems to us.|
Thus we may fairly assume that on certain solemn
occasions Roman generals and magistrates personated the
supreme god, and that in so doing they revived the practice
of the early kings. To us moderns, for whom the breach
which divides the human and the divine has deepened into
an impassable gulf, such mimicry may appear impious, but
it was otherwise with the ancients. To their thinking
gods and men were akin, for many families traced their
descent from a divinity, and the deification of a man
178probably seemed as little extraordinary to them as the
canonisation of a saint seems to a modern Catholic.
The Romans in particular were quite familiar with the
spectacle of men masquerading as spirits; for at the
funerals of great houses all the illustrious dead of the
family were personated by men specially chosen for their
resemblance to the departed. These representatives wore
|Roman custom of representing dead ancestors by masked men.|
masks fashioned and painted in the likeness of the originals:
they were dressed in rich robes of office, resplendent with
purple and gold, such as the dead nobles had worn in their
lifetime: like them, they rode in chariots through the city
preceded by the rods and axes, and attended by all the
pomp and heraldry of high station; and when at last the
funeral procession, after threading its way through the
crowded streets, defiled into the Forum, the maskers solemnly
took their seats on ivory chairs placed for them on the
platform of the Rostra, in the sight of the people, recalling
no doubt to the old, by their silent presence, the memories
of an illustrious past, and firing the young with the ambition
of a glorious future.[570]
|The kings of Alba seem also to have claimed to represent Jupiter.|
According to a tradition which we have no reason to
reject, Rome was founded by settlers from Alba Longa, a
city situated on the slope of the Alban hills, overlooking
the lake and the Campagna.[571] Hence if the Roman kings
claimed to be representatives or embodiments of Jupiter, the
god of the sky, of the thunder, and of the oak, it is natural
to suppose that the kings of Alba, from whom the founder
of Rome traced his descent, may have set up the same
claim before them. Now the Alban dynasty bore the name
of Silvii or Wood, and it can hardly be without significance
that in the vision of the historic glories of Rome revealed
to Aeneas in the underworld, Virgil, an antiquary as well
as a poet, should represent all the line of Silvii as crowned
|The Silvii and the Julii.|
with oak.[572] A chaplet of oak leaves would thus seem to
179have been part of the insignia of the old kings of Alba
Longa as of their successors the kings of Rome; in both
cases it marked the monarch as the human representative of
the oak-god. With regard to Silvius, the first king of the
Alban dynasty, we are told that he got his name because
he had been born or brought up in the forest, and that when
he came to man’s estate he contested the kingdom with his
kinsman Julus, whose name, as some of the ancients themselves
|Julus, the little Jupiter.|
perceived, means the Little Jupiter. The people
decided in favour of Silvius, but his rival Julus was consoled
for the loss of the crown by being invested with religious
authority and the office of chief pontiff, or perhaps rather of
Flamen Dialis, the highest dignity after the kingship. From
this Julus or Little Jupiter, the noble house of the Julii,
and hence the first emperors of Rome, believed themselves
to be sprung.[573] The legend of the dispute between Silvius
and Julus may preserve a reminiscence of such a partition
of spiritual and temporal powers in Alba Longa as afterwards
took place in Rome, when the old regal office was
divided between the Consuls and the King of the Sacred
Rites.[574] Many more instances of such a schism will meet
us later on. That the Julian house worshipped Vejovis, the
Little Jupiter, according to the ancient rites of Alba Longa,
is proved by the inscription on an altar which they dedicated
to him at their ancestral home of Bovillae, a colony of
Alba Longa, situated at the foot of the Alban hills.[575] The
180Caesars, the most illustrious family of the Julian house,
took their name from their long hair (caesaries),[576] which was
probably in those early days, as it was among the Franks
long afterwards, a symbol of royalty.[577]
|The Alban kings seem to have been expected to make thunder
and rain for the good of their subjects.|
But in ceding the pontificate to their rivals, it would
seem that the reigning dynasty of the Silvii or Woods
by no means renounced their own claim to personate the
god of the oak and the thunder; for the Roman annals
record that one of them, Romulus, Remulus, or Amulius
Silvius by name, set up for being a god in his own person, the
equal or superior of Jupiter. To support his pretensions
and overawe his subjects, he constructed machines whereby
he mimicked the clap of thunder and the flash of lightning.
Diodorus relates that in the season of fruitage, when thunder
is loud and frequent, the king commanded his soldiers to
drown the roar of heaven’s artillery by clashing their swords
against their shields. But he paid the penalty of his impiety,
for he perished, he and his house, struck by a thunderbolt
in the midst of a dreadful storm. Swollen by the rain,
the Alban lake rose in flood and drowned his palace. But
still, says an ancient historian, when the water is low and the
surface unruffled by a breeze, you may see the ruins of the
palace at the bottom of the clear lake.[578] Taken along with
181the similar story of Salmoneus, king of Elis,[579] this legend points
to a real custom observed by the early kings of Greece and
Italy, who like their fellows in Africa down to modern times
may have been expected to produce rain and thunder for
the good of the crops.[580] The priestly king Numa passed
for an adept in the art of drawing down lightning from the
sky.[581] Mock thunder, we know, has been made by various
peoples as a rain-charm in modern times;[582] why should it
not have been made by kings in antiquity?
|The legends of the deaths of Roman kings point to a close connexion
between the king and the thunder-god.|
In this connexion it deserves to be noted that, according
to the legend, Salmoneus, like his Alban counterpart, was
killed by a thunderbolt; and that one of the Roman kings,
Tullus Hostilius, is reported to have met with the same end
in an attempt to draw down Jupiter in the form of lightning
from the sky.[583] Aeneas himself, the legendary ancestor both
of the Alban and the Roman kings, vanished from the world
in a violent thunderstorm, and was afterwards worshipped as
Jupiter Indiges. A mound of earth, encircled with fine
trees, on the bank of the little river Numicius was pointed
out as his grave.[584] Romulus, too, the first king of Rome,
|Death and deification of Romulus.|
disappeared in like manner. It was the seventh of July,
and the king was reviewing his army at the Goat’s Marsh,
outside the walls of the city. Suddenly the sky lowered
and a tempest burst, accompanied by peals of thunder.
Soon the storm had swept by, leaving the brightness and
182serenity of the summer day behind. But Romulus was
never seen again. Those who had stood by him said they
saw him caught up to heaven in a whirlwind; and not long
afterwards a certain Proculus Julius, a patrician of Alban
birth and descent, declared on oath that Romulus had
appeared to him clad in bright armour, and announced that
the Romans were to worship him as a god under the name
of Quirinus, and to build him a temple on the spot. The
temple was built and the place was henceforth known as
the Quirinal hill.[585] In this legend it is significant that the
annunciation of the king’s divinity should be put in the
mouth of a member of the Julian house, a native of Alba;
for we have seen reason to believe that at Alba the Julii
had competed with the Silvii, from whom Romulus was
descended, for the kingship, and with it for the honour of
personating Jupiter. If, as seems to be philologically
possible, the word Quirinus is derived from the same root
as quercus, “an oak,” the name of the deified Romulus would
mean no more than “the oak-god,” that is, Jupiter.[586] Thus
the tradition would square perfectly with the other indications
of custom and legend which have led us to conclude
that the kings both of Rome and of Alba claimed to embody
in their own persons the god of the sky, of thunder, and of
the oak. Certainly the stories which associated the deaths
of so many of them with thunderstorms point to a close
183connexion with the god of thunder and lightning. A king
who had been wont to fulminate in his lifetime might
naturally be supposed at death to be carried up in a thunderstorm
to heaven, there to discharge above the clouds the
same duties which he had performed on earth. Such a
tale would be all the more likely to attach itself to the
twin Romulus, if the early Romans shared the widespread
superstition that twins have power over the weather in
general and over rain and wind in particular.[587] That tempests
are caused by the spirits of the dead is a belief of the
Araucanians of Chili. Not a storm bursts upon the Andes
or the ocean which these Indians do not ascribe to a battle
between the souls of their fellow-countrymen and the
dead Spaniards. In the roaring of the wind they hear the
trampling of the ghostly horses, in the peal of the thunder
the roll of the drums, and in the flashes of lightning the fire
of the artillery.[588]
|Every Latin town probably had its local Jupiter.|
Thus, if the kings of Alba and Rome imitated Jupiter
as god of the oak by wearing a crown of oak leaves, they
seem also to have copied him in his character of a weather-god
by pretending to make thunder and lightning. And if they
did so, it is probable that, like Jupiter in heaven and many
kings on earth, they also acted as public rain-makers, wringing
showers from the dark sky by their enchantments whenever
the parched earth cried out for the refreshing moisture.
At Rome the sluices of heaven were opened by means of a
sacred stone, and the ceremony appears to have formed
part of the ritual of Jupiter Elicius, the god who elicits from
the clouds the flashing lightning and the dripping rain.[589]184And who so well fitted to perform the ceremony as the king,
the living representative of the sky-god?
|Many local Jupiters in Latium.|
The conclusion which we have reached as to the kings
of Rome and Alba probably holds good of all the kings of
ancient Latium: each of them, we may suppose, represented
or embodied the local Jupiter. For we can hardly doubt
that of old every Latin town or settlement had its own
Jupiter, as every town and almost every church in modern
Italy has its own Madonna; and like the Baal of the
Semites the local Jupiter was commonly worshipped on
high places. Wooded heights, round which the rain-clouds
gather, were indeed the natural sanctuaries for a god of the
sky, the rain, and the oak. At Rome he occupied one
summit of the Capitoline hill, while the other summit was
assigned to his wife Juno, whose temple, with the long flight
|Capitoline Jupiter and Juno.|
of stairs leading up to it, has for ages been appropriately
replaced by the church of St. Mary “in the altar of the sky”
(in Araceli).[590] That both heights were originally wooded
seems certain, for down to imperial times the saddle which
joins them was known as the place “between the two
groves.”[591] Virgil tells us that the hilltop where gilded
temples glittered in his day had been covered of old by
shaggy thickets, the haunt of woodland elves and savage
men, “born of the tree-trunks and the heart of oak.”[592] These
thickets were probably composed of oaks, for the oak crown
|The hills of Rome once wooded with oaks.|
was sacred to Capitoline Juno as well as to Jupiter;[593] it was to
a sacred oak on the Capitol that Romulus fastened the spoils,[594]
and there is evidence that in early times oak-woods clothed
other of the hills on which Rome was afterwards built. Thus
185the Caelian hill went originally by the name of the Mountain
of the Oak Grove on account of the thickets of oak by which
it was overgrown,[595] and Jupiter was here worshipped in his
character of the oak-god;[596] one of the old gates of Rome, apparently
between the Caelian and the Esquiline hills, was called
the Gate of the Oak Grove for a similar reason;[597] and within
the walls hard by was a Chapel of the Oak Grove dedicated
to the worship of the oak-nymphs.[598] These nymphs appear
on coins of the Accoleian family as three women supporting
on their shoulders a pole from which rise leafy branches.[599]
The Esquiline hill seems also to have derived its name from
its oaks. After mentioning the Chapel of the Oak and other
hallowed groves which still dotted the hill in his time, the
antiquary Varro tells us that their bounds were now much
curtailed, adding with a sigh that it was no wonder the sacred
old trees should give way to the modern worship of Mammon.[600]
Apparently the Roman nobles of those days sold the ancient
woods, as their descendants sell their beautiful gardens, for
building-land. To this list of oak-clad hills on the left bank
of the Tiber must be added the Quirinal, if Quirinus, who
had a very ancient shrine on the hill, was the oak-god.[601]
Under the Aventine was a grove of evergreen oaks,[602] which
appears to have been no other than the grove of Egeria
outside the Porta Capena.[603] The old grove of Vesta, which
once skirted the foot of the Palatine hill on the side of the
Forum,[604] must surely have been a grove of oaks; for not only
186does an oak appear growing beside the temple of Vesta on a
fine relief preserved in the gallery of the Uffizi at Florence, but
|The sacred Vestal fire fed with oak-wood.|
charred embers of the sacred Vestal fire have in recent years
been discovered at the temple of Vesta in the Forum, and a
microscopic analysis of them has proved that they consist of
the pith or heart of trunks or great branches of oak (quercus).[605]
The full significance of this discovery will appear later on.
When the plebeians seceded to the Janiculum in the third
century before Christ, the dictator Q. Hortensius summoned
a meeting of the people and passed a law in an oak grove,
which perhaps grew on the hill.[606] In this neighbourhood
there was a street called the Street of the Oak Grove; it is
mentioned in an inscription found in its original position near
the modern Garibaldi bridge.[607] On the Vatican hill there
stood an evergreen oak which was believed to be older than
Rome; an inscription in Etruscan letters on a bronze tablet
proclaimed the sanctity of the tree.[608] Finally, that oak
woods existed at or near Rome in the earliest times has
lately been demonstrated by the discovery in the Forum itself
of a prehistoric cemetery, which contains amongst other
sepultures the bones of several young children deposited in
rudely hollowed trunks of oak.[609] With all this evidence
before us we need not wonder that Virgil should speak of
the primitive inhabitants of Rome as “born of the tree-trunks
and the heart of oak,” and that the Roman kings
187should have worn crowns of oak leaves in imitation of the
oak-god Jupiter, who dwelt in his sacred grove on the Capitol.
|The Alban kings may have imitated Latian Jupiter, who dwelt on the top
of the Alban Mount.|
If the kings of Rome aped Capitoline Jove, their predecessors
the kings of Alba probably laid themselves out to
mimic the great Latian Jupiter, who had his seat above the
city on the summit of the Alban Mountain. Latinus, the
legendary ancestor of the dynasty, was said to have been
changed into Latian Jupiter after vanishing from the world
in the mysterious fashion characteristic of the old Latin
kings.[610] The sanctuary of the god on the top of the
mountain was the religious centre of the Latin League, as
Alba was its political capital till Rome wrested the supremacy
from its ancient rival. Apparently no temple, in our
sense of the word, was ever erected to Jupiter on this his holy
mountain; as god of the sky and thunder he appropriately
received the homage of his worshippers in the open air. The
massive wall, of which some remains still enclose the old
garden of the Passionist monastery, seems to have been part
of the sacred precinct which Tarquin the Proud, the last
king of Rome, marked out for the solemn annual assembly
of the Latin League.[611] The god’s oldest sanctuary on this
airy mountain-top was a grove;[612] and bearing in mind
not merely the special consecration of the oak to Jupiter, but
also the traditional oak crown of the Alban kings and the
analogy of the Capitoline Jupiter at Rome, we may suppose
that the trees in the grove were oaks.[613] We know that in
antiquity Mount Algidus, an outlying group of the Alban
hills, was covered with dark forests of oak;[614] and among the
188tribes who belonged to the Latin League in the earliest days,
and were entitled to share the flesh of the white bull sacrificed
on the Alban Mount, there was one whose members styled
themselves the Men of the Oak,[615] doubtless on account of
the woods among which they dwelt.
|Theophrastus’s description of the woods of Latium.|
But we should err if we pictured to ourselves the country
as covered in historical times with an unbroken forest of oaks.
Theophrastus has left us a description of the woods of Latium
as they were in the fourth century before Christ. He says:
“The land of the Latins is all moist. The plains produce
laurels, myrtles, and wonderful beeches; for they fell trees
of such a size that a single stem suffices for the keel of a
Tyrrhenian ship. Pines and firs grow in the mountains. What
they call the land of Circe is a lofty headland thickly wooded
with oak, myrtle, and luxuriant laurels. The natives say that
Circe dwelt there, and they shew the grave of Elpenor, from
which grow myrtles such as wreaths are made of, whereas the
other myrtle-trees are tall.”[616] Thus the prospect from the top
|The prospect from the Alban Mount in antiquity.|
of the Alban Mount in the early days of Rome must have been
very different in some respects from what it is to-day. The
purple Apennines, indeed, in their eternal calm on the one
hand, and the shining Mediterranean in its eternal unrest on
the other, no doubt looked then much as they look now,
whether bathed in sunshine, or chequered by the fleeting
shadows of clouds; but instead of the desolate brown
expanse of the fever-stricken Campagna, spanned by its
long lines of ruined aqueducts, like the broken arches of the
bridge in the vision of Mirza, the eye must have ranged over
woodlands that stretched away, mile after mile, on all sides,
till their varied hues of green or autumnal scarlet and
gold melted insensibly into the blue of the distant mountains
and sea.
Thus the Alban Mount was to the Latins what Olympus
was to the Greeks, the lofty abode of the sky-god, who
hurled his thunderbolts from above the clouds. The white
189steers which were here sacrificed to him in his sacred grove,
as in the Capitol at Rome,[617] remind us of the white bulls
which the Druids of Gaul sacrificed under the holy oak when
|Resemblance between the Latin worship of Jupiter and the
Druidical worship of the oak.|
they cut the mistletoe;[618] and the parallel would be all the
closer if, as we have seen reason to think, the Latins
worshipped Jupiter originally in groves of oak. Other
resemblances between ancient Gaul and Latium will meet us
later on. When we remember that the ancient Italian and
Celtic peoples spoke languages which are nearly related to each
other,[619] we shall not be surprised at discovering traces of
community in their religion, especially in what concerns the
worship of the god of the oak and the thunder. For that
worship, as we shall see presently, belongs to the oldest
stratum of Aryan civilisation in Europe.
|Sacred marriage of Jupiter and Juno.|
But Jupiter did not reign alone on the top of his holy
mountain. He had his consort with him, the goddess Juno,
who was worshipped here under the same title, Moneta, as
on the Capitol at Rome.[620] As the oak crown was sacred to
Jupiter and Juno on the Capitol,[621] so we may suppose it was
on the Alban Mount, from which the Capitoline worship
was derived. Thus the oak-god would have his oak-goddess
in the sacred oak grove. So at Dodona the oak-god Zeus
was coupled with Dione, whose very name is only a dialectically
different form of Juno;[622] and so on the top of
Mount Cithaeron he was periodically wedded to an oaken
190image of Hera.[623] It is probable, though it cannot be
positively proved, that the sacred marriage of Jupiter
and Juno was annually celebrated by all the peoples of
the Latin stock in the month which they named after
the goddess, the midsummer month of June.[624] Now on
the first of June the Roman pontiffs performed certain rites
in the grove of Helernus beside the Tiber, and on the same
day, and perhaps in the same place, a nymph of the grove,
by name Carna, received offerings of lard and bean-porridge.
She was said to be a huntress, chaste and coy, who gave
|Janus and Carna.|
the slip to her lovers in the depths of the wood, but was
caught by Janus. Some took her to be Diana herself.[625]
If she were indeed a form of that goddess, her union with
Janus, that is, Dianus, would be appropriate; and as she
had a chapel on the Caelian hill, which was once covered
with oak-woods,[626] she may have been, like Egeria, an oak-nymph.
Further, Janus, or Dianus, and Diana, as we shall
see later on, were originally mere doubles of Jupiter and
Juno, with whom they coincide in name and to some extent
in function. Hence it appears to be not impossible that
the rite celebrated by the pontiffs on the first of June in the
191sacred grove of Helernus was the marriage of Jupiter
and Juno under the forms of Janus and Diana. It would
be some confirmation of this view if we could be sure that,
as Ovid seems to imply, the Romans were in the habit
of placing branches of white thorn or buckthorn in their
|Ancient use of white thorn or buckthorn to ward off witchcraft.|
windows on the first of June to keep out the witches;[627]
for in some parts of Europe precisely the same custom
is observed, for the same reason, a month earlier, on the
marriage day of the King and Queen of May.[628] The Greeks
certainly believed that branches of white thorn or buckthorn
fastened to a door or outside the house had power to disarm
the malignant arts of sorcerers[629] and to exclude spirits.
Hence they hung up branches of it before the door when
sacrifices were being offered to the dead, lest any of the
prowling ghosts should be tempted to revisit their old homes
or to invade those of other people.[630] When the atheist Bion
lay adying, he not only caused sacrifices to be offered on his
behalf to the gods whose existence he had denied, but got
an old hag to mumble incantations over him and to bind
magical thongs about his arms, and he had boughs of buckthorn
and laurel attached to the lintel to keep out death.[631]
However, the evidence as to the rites observed by the
Romans on the first of June is too slight and dubious to
allow us to press the parallel with May Day.
|At the sacred marriage of Jupiter and Juno in later times the parts of
the deities may have been acted by the Flamen Dialis and the Flaminica.|
If at any time of the year the Romans celebrated the
sacred marriage of Jupiter and Juno, as the Greeks commonly
celebrated the corresponding marriage of Zeus and
Hera,[632] we may suppose that under the Republic the ceremony
was either performed over images of the divine pair
or acted by the Flamen Dialis and his wife the Flaminica.
For the Flamen Dialis was the priest of Jove; indeed,
ancient and modern writers have regarded him, with much
192probability, as a living image of Jupiter, a human embodiment
of the sky-god.[633] In earlier times the Roman king, as
representative of Jupiter, would naturally play the part of
the heavenly bridegroom at the sacred marriage, while his
queen would figure as the heavenly bride, just as in Egypt
|The Flamen and Flaminica may have been the deputies of the king and queen.|
the king and queen masqueraded in the character of deities,
and as at Athens the queen annually wedded the vine-god
Dionysus. That the Roman king and queen should act the
parts of Jupiter and Juno would seem all the more natural
because these deities themselves bore the title of King and
Queen.[634] Even if the office of Flamen Dialis existed under
the kings, as it appears to have done, the double representation
of Jupiter by the king and the flamen need not have
seemed extraordinary to the Romans of the time. The
same sort of duplication, as we saw, appears to have taken
place at Alba, when the Julii were allowed to represent the
supreme god in the character of Little Jupiters, while the
royal dynasty of the Silvii continued to wield the divine
thunder and lightning.[635] And long ages afterwards, history
repeating itself, another member of the Julian house, the
first emperor of Rome, was deified in his lifetime under the
title of Jupiter, while a flamen was appointed to do for him
what the Flamen Dialis did for the heavenly Jove.[636] It is
said that Numa, the typical priestly king, at first himself
discharged the functions of Flamen Dialis, but afterwards
appointed a separate priest of Jupiter with that title, in
order that the kings, untrammeled by the burdensome
religious observances attached to the priesthood, might be
free to lead their armies to battle.[637] The tradition may be
substantially correct; for analogy shews that the functions
193of a priestly king are too harassing and too incongruous to
be permanently united in the same hands, and that sooner
or later the holder of the office seeks to rid himself of part
of his burden by deputing to others, according to his temper
and tastes, either his civil or his religious duties. Hence we
may take it as probable that the fighting kings of Rome,
tired of parading as Jupiter and of observing all the
elaborate ritual, all the tedious restrictions which the character
of godhead entailed on them, were glad to relegate
these pious mummeries to a substitute, in whose hands they
left the crosier at home while they went forth to wield the
sharp Roman sword abroad. This would explain why the
traditions of the later kings, from Tullus Hostilius onwards,
exhibit so few traces of sacred or priestly functions adhering
to their office. Among the ceremonies which they henceforward
performed by deputy may have been the rite of the
sacred marriage.
|At the sacred marriage the King and Queen of Rome probably
personated the god and goddess of the oak.|
Whether that was so or not, the legend of Numa and
Egeria appears to embody a reminiscence of a time when
the priestly king himself played the part of the divine bridegroom;
and as we have seen reason to suppose that the
Roman kings personated the oak-god, while Egeria is expressly
said to have been an oak-nymph, the story of their
union in the sacred grove raises a presumption that at Rome
in the regal period a ceremony was periodically performed
exactly analogous to that which was annually celebrated at
Athens down to the time of Aristotle.[638] The marriage of the
King of Rome to the oak-goddess, like the wedding of the
vine-god to the Queen of Athens, must have been intended
194to quicken the growth of vegetation by homoeopathic
magic. Of the two forms of the rite we can hardly doubt
that the Roman was the older, and that long before the
northern invaders met with the vine on the shores of the
Mediterranean their forefathers had married the tree-god
to the tree-goddess in the vast oak forests of Central and
Northern Europe. In the England of our day the forests
have mostly disappeared, yet still on many a village green
and in many a country lane a faded image of the sacred
marriage lingers in the rustic pageantry of May Day.
CHAPTER XIV THE KING’S FIRE
195
|Sacred Marriage of the Fire-god with a woman.|
Thus far we have dealt mainly with those instances of the
Sacred Marriage in which a human being is wedded to the
divine powers of vegetation or water. Now we pass to the
consideration of a different class of cases, in which the divine
bridegroom is the fire and his bride a human virgin. And
these cases are particularly important for our present enquiry
into the early Latin kingship, since it appears that the old
Latin kings were commonly supposed to be the offspring
of the fire-god by mortal mothers. The evidence which
points to this conclusion is as follows.
|Legend of the birth of King Servius Tullius from the fire.|
First, let us take the legend of the birth of King Servius
Tullius. It is said that one day the virgin Ocrisia, a
slave-woman of Queen Tanaquil, the wife of King Tarquin
the elder, was offering as usual cakes and libations of
wine on the royal hearth, when a flame in the shape of
the male member shot out from the fire. Taking this for
a sign that her handmaiden was to be the mother of a more
than mortal son, the wise Queen Tanaquil bade the girl
array herself as a bride and lie down beside the hearth.
Her orders were obeyed; Ocrisia conceived by the god or
spirit of the fire, and in due time brought forth Servius
Tullius, who was thus born a slave, being the reputed son
of a slave mother and a divine father, the fire-god. His
birth from the fire was attested in his childhood by a lambent
flame which played about his head as he slept at noon in
the king’s palace.[639] This story, as others have pointed
196out before,[640] seems clearly to imply that the mother
of Servius was a Vestal Virgin charged with the care and
worship of the sacred fire in the king’s house. Now, in
Promathion’s History of Italy, cited by Plutarch, a similar
tale was told of the birth of Romulus himself. It is
|Legend of the birth of Romulus from the fire.|
said that in the house of the King of Alba a flame
like to the male organ of generation hung over the hearth
for many days. Learning from an oracle that a virgin
should conceive by this phantom and bear a son of great
valour and renown, the king bade one of his daughters
submit to its embraces, but she disdained to do so, and sent
her handmaid instead. Angry at her disobedience, her
father ordered both the maidens to be put to death. But
Vesta appeared to him in a dream, forbade the execution,
and commanded that both the girls should be imprisoned
until they had woven a certain web, after which they were
to be given in marriage. But the web was never finished,
for as fast as they wove it by day, other maidens, in
obedience to the king’s orders, unwove it at night. Meantime
the handmaiden conceived by the flame of fire, and
gave birth to Romulus and Remus.[641] In this legend, as in
the story of the birth of Servius Tullius, it is plain that the
mother of the future King of Rome was both a slave and
a priestess of Vesta. Orthodox Roman tradition always
admitted that she was a Vestal, but naturally enough
represented her as the king’s daughter rather than his slave.
197The god Mars, it was said, got her with child as she drew
water in his sacred grove.[642] However, when we compare
this legend with the similar story of the birth of Servius,
we may suspect that Promathion has preserved, though
perhaps in a perverted form, an old feature of the Latin
kingship, namely, that one of the king’s parents might be,
and sometimes was, a slave. Whether that was so or not,
such tales at least bear witness to an old belief that the
early Roman kings were born of virgins and of the fire.
Similarly Caeculus, the founder of Praeneste, passed for a
|Legend of the birth of Caeculus from the fire.|
son of Vulcan. It was said that his mother conceived him
through a spark, which leapt from the fire and struck her as
she sat by the hearth. She exposed the child near a temple
of Jupiter, and he was found there beside a fire by some
maidens who were going to draw water. In after-life he
proved his divine birth by working an appropriate miracle.
When an infidel crowd refused to believe that he was the
son of a god, he prayed to his father, and immediately the
unbelievers were surrounded with a flame of fire.[643] More
than this, the whole of the Alban dynasty appear to have
traced their descent from a Vestal, for the wife of King
Latinus, their legendary ancestor, was named Amata[644] or
Beloved, and this was the regular title bestowed on a Vestal
after her election,[645] a title which cannot be fully understood
except in the light of the foregoing traditions, which seem
to shew that the Vestals were regularly supposed to be beloved
by the fire-god. Moreover, fire is said to have played round
the head of Amata’s daughter Lavinia,[646] just as it played round
the head of the fire-born Servius Tullius. As the same
prodigy was reported of Julus or Ascanius, the son of
Aeneas,[647] we may suspect that a similar legend was told of
his miraculous conception at the hearth.
198|The Vestal Virgins seem to have been regarded as the wives of the fire-god.|
Now we may take it as certain that the Romans and
Latins would never have traced the descent of their kings from
Vestal Virgins unless they had thought that such a descent, far
from being a stain, was, under certain circumstances, highly
honourable. What the circumstances were that permitted a
Vestal to become a mother, not only with impunity but
with honour and glory, appear plainly from the stories of
the birth of Caeculus, Romulus, and Servius Tullius. If she
might not know a mortal man, she was quite free, and indeed
was encouraged, to conceive and bear a son to the fire-god.
In fact the legends suggest that the Vestals were regularly
regarded as the fire-god’s wives. This would explain why
they were bound to chastity during their term of service:
the bride must be true to her divine bridegroom. And the
theory of chastity could be easily reconciled with the practice
of maternity by allowing a man to masquerade as the fire-god
at a sacred marriage, just as in Egypt the king disguised
himself as the god Ammon when he wedded the queen,[648]
or as among the Ewe tribes the priest poses as the python-god
when he goes in to the human brides of the serpent.[649]
Thus the doctrine of the divine birth of kings presents no
serious difficulty to people who believe that a god may be
made flesh in a man, and that a virgin may conceive and
bear him a son. Of course the theory of the divine motherhood
of the Vestals applies only to the early regal and therefore
prehistoric period. Under the Republic the demand for
kings had ceased, and with it, therefore, the supply. Yet a
trace of the old view of the Vestals as virgin mothers lingered
down to the latest times in the character of Vesta herself,
their patroness and type; for Vesta always bore the official
title of Mother, never that of Virgin.[650] We may surmise that
a similar belief and practice once obtained in Attica. For
199Erichthonius, king of Athens, is said to have been a son of
the fire-god Hephaestus by the virgin goddess Athena: the
story told of his miraculous birth from the ground, which had
been impregnated by the seed of the fire-god, is clearly a later
version devised to save the virginity of his mother.[651] The
perpetual lamp of Athena, which burned in the Erechtheum
or house of Erechtheus (who was identical with Erichthonius)
on the acropolis of Athens,[652] may have answered to the
perpetual fire of Vesta at Rome; and it is possible that the
maidens called Arrephoroi or Errephoroi, who dwelt close to
the Erechtheum,[653] may at one time have personated Athena
and passed, like the Vestals, for wives of the fire-god.
|Rationalistic theory of the duties of the Vestals rejected.|
It has, indeed, been held that the Vestals were of old the
king’s daughters, who were kept at home and forbidden to marry
for no other reason than that they might devote themselves to
the domestic duties of drawing water, mopping the house,
tending the fire, and baking cakes.[654] But this rationalistic
theory could hardly explain the superstitious horror
which the infidelity of a Vestal always excited in the Roman
mind. Customs which begin in reason seldom end in
superstition. It is likely, therefore, that the rule of chastity
imposed on the Vestals was based from the first on a
superstition rather than on a mere consideration of practical
convenience. The belief that the Vestals were the spouses
of the fire-god would explain the rule.[655] We have seen that
the practice of marrying women to gods has been by no
means uncommon. If the spirit of the water has his
human wife, why not the spirit of the fire? Indeed,
primitive man has a special reason for thinking that the
fire-god should always be married. What that reason
is, I will now try to explain.
200|The Vestal fire of later times was a continuation of the
fire on the king’s hearth.|
But first it is necessary to apprehend clearly that the
Vestal fire of republican and imperial Rome was strictly
the successor or continuation of the fire which in the regal
period had burned on the king’s hearth. That it was so
appears plainly from the stories of the birth of Romulus
and Servius Tullius, which shew that Vesta was believed to
be worshipped at the royal fireside by maidens who were
either the king’s daughters or his slaves. This conclusion is
amply confirmed by a study of the temple of Vesta and the
adjoining edifices in the Roman Forum. For the so-called
temple of the goddess never was, strictly speaking, a temple
at all. This fact we have on the authority of Varro
himself, the greatest of Roman antiquaries.[656] The little
round building in which the sacred fire always burned was
merely a copy of the round hut in which the king, like his
|The round temple of Vesta a copy of the ancient Italian hut.|
subjects, had dwelt in days of old. Tradition preserved a
memory of the time when its walls were made of wattled
osiers and the roof was of thatch;[657] indeed, with that
peculiar clinging to the forms of the past which is
characteristic of royalty and religion, the inmost shrine
continued down even to late times to be fashioned of the
same simple materials.[658] The hut of Romulus, or what
passed for it, constructed of wood, reeds, and straw, was
always preserved and carefully repaired in the original style.
It stood on the side of the Palatine hill facing the Circus
Maximus.[659] A similar hut, roofed with thatch, was in like
manner maintained on the Capitoline hill, and traditionally
associated with Romulus.[660] The so-called temple of Vesta in
historical times stood not on any of the hills, but in the
Forum, at the northern foot of the Palatine. Its situation
in the flat ground is quite consistent with the view that the
building represents the king’s house of early, though not of
the very earliest, times; for, according to tradition, it was
201built by Numa in this position between the Palatine and the
Capitol, at the time when he united the two separate towns
on these hills and turned the low swampy ground between
them into their common place of assembly. Here, too,
beside the temple of Vesta, the king built himself a house,
which was ever afterwards known as the Regia or palace;
formerly he had dwelt on the Quirinal.[661] In after-times this
old palace of the kings was perhaps the official residence of their
successor, the King of the Sacred Rites.[662] Adjoining it was
the house of the Vestals,[663] at first, no doubt, a simple and
unpretentious edifice, but afterwards a stately pile gathered
round a spacious open court which must have resembled
the cloister of a mediaeval monastery. We may assume
that the kernel of this group of buildings was the round
temple of Vesta, and that the hearth in it, on which burned
the sacred fire, was originally the hearth of the king’s
house. That the so-called temple was built on the model of
the round huts of the old Latins is proved by the discoveries
made at an ancient necropolis near Albano. The ashes of
the dead were here deposited in urns, which are shaped like
|Hut-urns found at Albano and Rome.|
little round huts with conical roofs, obviously in order that
the souls of the dead might live in houses such as they had
inhabited during life. The roofs of these miniature dwellings
are raised on cross-beams, sometimes with one or more
holes to let out the smoke. The door is fastened by a
crossbar, which is passed through a ring on the outside and
tied to the two side-posts. In some of these hut-urns the
side-posts are duplicated, or even triplicated, for the sake of
202ornament; and it is probable that the ring of columns
which encircled the little temple of Vesta in historical
times was merely an extension of the door-posts of the
prehistoric hut. The necropolis in which these urns were
found must be very ancient, since it was buried under the
streams of lava vomited by the Alban Mountain in
eruption. But the mountain has not been an active volcano
within historical times, unless, indeed, the showers of stones
and the rain of blood often recorded as ominous prodigies
by Roman writers may be explained as jets of pumice and
red volcanic dust discharged by one of the craters.[664] The
prehistoric burial-ground lately discovered in the Roman
Forum has yielded several hut-urns of precisely the same
shape as those of the Alban cemetery. Hence we may infer
with tolerable certainty that the earliest Latin settlers both
on the Alban hills and at Rome dwelt in round huts built
of wattle and dab, with peaked roofs of thatch.[665]
|“Numa’s crockery,” the primitive earthenware vessels
used by the Vestals.|
If further evidence were needed to convince us that the
round temple of Vesta merely reproduced a Roman house
of the olden time, it might be supplied by the primitive
vessels of coarse earthenware in which the Vestals always
presented their offerings, and which, in memory of the
artlessness of an earlier age, went by the name of
“Numa’s crockery.”[666] A Greek historian, writing when
Rome was at the height of her power and glory under
Augustus, praises the Romans for the austere simplicity
with which, in an age of vulgar wealth and ostentation,
they continued to honour the gods of their fathers.
“I have seen,” said he, “meals set before the gods on
old-fashioned wooden tables, in mats and earthenware
dishes, the food consisting of barley loaves and cakes and
spelt and firstfruits and such-like things, all plain and
203inexpensive and free from any touch of vulgarity. And I
have seen libations offered, not in vessels of silver and gold,
but in little earthen cups and jugs; and I heartily admired
a people which thus walked in the ways of their fathers,
not deviating from the ancient rites into extravagance and
display.”[667] Specimens of this antique pottery have come to
light of late years at the house of the Vestals, the temple
of Vesta, and other religious centres in the Forum;[668] others
had been found previously on the Esquiline hill and in the
necropolis of Alba Longa.[669] We may conjecture that if the
Romans continued to serve the gods their meals in simple
earthenware dishes long after they themselves quaffed their
wine from goblets of crystal and gold or from murrhine cups
with their cloudy iridescent hues of purple and white,[670] they
did so, not from any principle of severe good taste, but
rather from that superstitious fear of innovation which has
embalmed in religious ritual, as in amber, so many curious
relics of the past. The old forms and materials of the
vessels were consecrated by immemorial usage and might
not be changed with impunity. Indeed, in the ritual of the
Arval Brothers the holy pots themselves appear to have
been an object of worship.[671] Specimens of these pots have
been found on the site of the sacred grove where the
Brothers performed their quaint service, and they shed an
interesting light on the conservatism of the Roman religion.
Some of them are moulded in the most primitive fashion by
|Rude pottery used by the Arval Brothers.|
the hand without any mechanical appliance. But most of
them belong to a stage of art, later indeed than this rude
beginning, yet earlier than the invention of the potter’s
wheel. In order to give the vessels their proper shape
and prevent the sides from collapsing, wooden hoops were
204inserted in them, and the marks made by these hoops in the
soft clay may still be seen on the inside of most of the pots
found in the grove. We may suppose that when the
potter’s wheel came into universal use, the old art of making
pottery by the hand was lost; but as religion would have
nothing to do with pots made in the new-fangled way, the
pious workman had to imitate the ancient ware as well
as he could, eking out his imperfect skill with the aid of
wooden hoops.[672] Perhaps the fictores Vestalium and the
fictores Pontificum, of whom we read in inscriptions,[673] were
those potters who, combining a retrograde art with sound
religious principles, provided the Vestals and Pontiffs with
the coarse crockery so dear to gods and to antiquaries.
If that was so, they may have had in the exercise of their
craft to observe some such curious rules as are still
|Savage superstitions as to the making of pottery.|
observed in similar circumstances by the savage Yuracares,
a tribe of Indians living dispersed in the depths of beautiful
tropical forests, at the eastern foot of the Bolivian
Andes. We are told by an explorer that “the manufacture
of pottery is not an everyday affair with this superstitious
people, and accordingly they surround it with singular precautions.
The women, who alone are entrusted with the
duty, go away very solemnly to look for the clay, but
they do so only when there is no crop to be gathered. In
the fear of thunder they betake themselves to the most
sequestered spots of the forest in order not to be seen.
There they build a hut. While they are at work they
observe certain ceremonies and never open their mouth,
speaking to each other by signs, being persuaded that one
word spoken would infallibly cause all their pots to break
in the firing; and they do not go near their husbands, for if
they did, all the sick people would die.”[674] Among the
205Ba-Ronga of South Africa pottery is made by women only,
and they prefer to employ a child under puberty to light
the fire in which the pots are to be baked, because the child
has pure hands and the pots are therefore less likely to crack
in the furnace than if the woman lit the fire herself.[675] If
the reader objects that Roman potters cannot have been
trammelled by superstitions like those which hamper the
savage potters of America and Africa, I would remind
him of the rules laid down by grave Roman writers for
the moral guidance of cooks, bakers, and butlers. After
mentioning a number of these writers by name, Columella
informs us that “all of them are of opinion that he who
engages in any one of these occupations is bound to be
|Chastity required in persons who handle dishes and food.|
chaste and continent, since everything depends on taking
care that neither the dishes nor the food should be handled
by any one above the age of puberty, or at least by any
one who is not exceedingly abstemious in sexual matters.
Therefore a man or woman who is sexually unclean ought
to wash in a river or running water before he touches the
contents of the storeroom. That is why there should be a
boy or a maid to fetch from the storeroom the things that
are needed.”[676] When Roman cooks, bakers, and butlers
were expected to be so strict in the service of their human
masters, it might naturally be thought that the potters
should be not less so whose business it was to fashion the
rude yet precious vessels meet for the worship of the gods.
|Sanctity of the storeroom (penus) and of the
Penates in a Roman house.|
If the storeroom (penus) of a Roman house was deemed
so holy that its contents could only be handled by persons
ceremonially clean, the reason was that the Penates or gods
of the storeroom dwelt in it.[677] The domestic hearth, where
the household meals were cooked in the simple days of old,
206was the natural altar of the Penates;[678] their images, together
with those of the Lares, stood by it and shone in the cheerful
glow of the fire, when the family gathered round it in the
evening.[679] Thus in every house Vesta, the goddess of the
hearth, was intimately bound up with the Penates or gods of
the storeroom; indeed, she was reckoned one of them.[680] Now
the temple of Vesta, being nothing more than a type of the
oldest form of Roman house, naturally had, like an ordinary
house, its sacred storeroom, and its Penates or gods of the
storeroom.[681] Hence if in every common house strict chastity
was, theoretically at least, expected of all who entered the
storeroom, we can well understand why such an obligation
should have been laid on the Vestals, who had in their
charge the holiest of all storerooms, the chamber in which
were popularly supposed to be preserved the talismans on
which the safety of the state depended.[682]
|Thus the temple of Vesta, with its perpetual fire and its sacred
storeroom, was merely a copy of the Roman king’s house.|
Thus on the whole we may regard it as highly probable
that the round temple of Vesta in the Forum, with its sacred
storeroom and perpetual fire, was merely a survival, under
changed conditions, of the old house of the Roman kings,
which again may have been a copy of the still older house of
the kings of Alba. Both were modelled on the round huts of
wattled osiers in which the early Latins dwelt among the
woods and hills of Latium in the days when the Alban
Mountain was still an active volcano. Hence it is legitimate
to compare the old legends of the royal hearth with the later
practice in regard to the hearth of Vesta, and from the comparison
to explain, if we can, the meaning both of the
legends and of the practice.
CHAPTER XV THE FIRE-DRILL
207
|Mode of rekindling the Vestal fire at Rome by
means of the fire-drill.|
In historical times, whenever the Vestal fire at Rome
happened to be extinguished, the virgins were beaten by the
pontiff; after which it was their custom, apparently with the
aid of the pontiff, to rekindle the fire by drilling a hole in a
board of lucky wood till a flame was elicited by friction.
The new fire thus obtained was carried into the temple of
Vesta by one of the virgins in a bronze sieve.[683] As this
mode of producing fire is one of the most primitive known
to man, and has been commonly employed by many savage
|Use of the fire-drill by savages.|
tribes down to modern times,[684] we need have no difficulty in
208believing that its use in the worship of Vesta was a survival
from prehistoric ages, and that whenever the fire on the
hearth of the Latin kings went out it was regularly relit in
the same fashion. In its simplest form the fire-drill, as the
apparatus has been appropriately named by Professor E. B.
Tylor, consists of two sticks, the one furnished with a point and
the other with a hole. The point of the one stick is inserted
into the hole of the other, which is laid flat on the ground,
while the operator holds the pointed stick upright in position
and twirls it rapidly between his hands till the rubbing of
the two sticks against each other produces sparks and at
last a flame.
|Many savages regard the two sticks of the fire-drill as male and
female, and the rubbing of the two together as a sexual union.|
Many savages see in this operation a resemblance to the
union of the sexes, and have accordingly named the pointed
stick the man and the holed stick the woman. Thus we are
told that among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia
“fire was obtained by means of the fire-drill, which consisted
of two dried sticks, each over a foot in length, and rounded
off to less than an inch in diameter. One stick was sharpened
at one end; while the other was marked with a couple of
notches close to each other—one on the side, and the other
on top. The sharpened end of the first stick was placed in
the top notch of the other stick, and turned rapidly between
the straightened palms of both hands. The heat thus produced
by the friction of the sticks caused sparks to fall
down the side notch upon tinder placed underneath, which,
when it commenced to smoke, was taken in the hands, and
blown upon until fanned into a flame. The tinder was dry
grass, the shredded dry bark of the sagebrush, or cedar-bark.
The sharpened stick was called the ‘man,’ and was made of
black-pine root, tops of young yellow pine, heart of yellow-pine
cones, service-berry wood, etc. The notched stick was
called the ‘woman,’ and was generally made of poplar-root.
However, many kinds of wood were used for this purpose.
When hot ashes or a spark fell upon the tinder, they said,
‘The woman has given birth.’”[685] The Hopi Indians kindle
fire ceremonially by the friction of two sticks, which are
209regarded respectively as male and female. The female stick
has a notch in it and is laid flat on the floor; the point of
the male stick is inserted in the notch of the female stick
and is made to revolve rapidly by twirling the stick between
the hands. Pollen is added as a male symbol, and the
spark is caught in a tinder of shredded cedar bark.[686] The
Urabunna tribe of Central Australia, who also make fire by
means of the fire-drill, call the upright piece “the child-stick,”
while they give to the horizontal or notched piece the
name of “the mother-stick” or “the mother of the fire.”[687]
So in the Murray Islands, Torres Straits, the upright stick
is called the child (werem), and the horizontal stick the
mother (apu). In Mabuiag, Torres Straits, on the other
hand, the vertical stick is known as the male organ (ini),
and the horizontal stick as the hole (sakai).[688]
|The fire-drill among the Arabs.|
“The ancient Bedouins kindled fire by means of the
fire-drill, which was composed of a horizontal stick, the
zenda, and an upright stick, the zend. The science of
language furnishes us with many parallels for this mode of
regarding the two parts as male and female; the two parts
of the lock are distinguished in like manner; the spark is
then the child, tifl; compare also our German Schraubenmutter,
Muttergewinde. The sticks for making fire by
friction are not taken from the same tree; on the contrary,
they choose one as hard and tough as possible, and the
other soft, which allows the hard one to fit into it more
easily and catches fire the quicker on account of its loose
texture. The soft wood was naturally the horizontal stick,
the zenda, which the Arabs made out of Calotropis procera
(’oshar), while for the upright stick they used a hard branch
of markh.”[689]
210|The fire-drill in Africa.|
The Ngumbu of South Cameroons, in West Africa,
formerly made fire by rubbing two sticks against each other.
Of the sticks the one, called the male nschio, was put into
a hole of the other, which was called the female nschio.[690]
In East Africa the Masai men make fire by drilling a hole
in a flat piece of wood with a hard pointed stick. They say
that the hard pointed stick is a man and that the flat piece
of wood is his wife. The former is cut from Ficus sycomorus
and Ekebergia sp., the latter from any fibrous tree, such
as Kigelia africana, Cordia ovalis, or Acacia albida. The
women get their fire from the one which has thus been
kindled by the men.[691] The Nandi similarly produce fire by
rapidly drilling a hard pointed stick into a small hole in a
flat piece of soft wood. The hard stick is called the male
(kirkit) and the piece of soft wood the female (kôket).
Among the Nandi, as apparently among the Masai, fire-making
is an exclusive privilege of the men of the tribe.[692]
The Baganda of Central Africa also made fire by means of
the fire-drill; they called the upright stick the male, and the
horizontal stick the female.[693] Among the Bantu tribes of
south-eastern Africa, “when the native Africans use special fire,
either in connection with sacrifice or the festival of first-fruits,
it is produced by a doctor, and in the following manner:—Two
sticks, made of the Uzwati tree, and called the ‘husband
and wife,’ are given to him by the chief. These sticks are
prepared by the magicians, and are the exclusive property
of the chief, the ‘wife’ being the shorter of the two. The
doctor cuts a piece off each stick, and proceeds to kindle
fire in the usual manner, by revolving the one rapidly
between the palms of his hands, while its end rests in a
small hollow dug in the side of the other. After he has
211obtained fire, he gives it to his attendant, who gets the pots
in order, and everything ready for cooking the newly-reaped
fruits. The sticks are handed back to the chief by the
doctor—no other hand must touch them—and put away till
they are required next season. They are regarded as in a
measure sacred, and no one, except the chief’s personal
servant, may go to the side of the hut where they are kept.
After being repeatedly used for fire-making, the doctor disposes
of what remains, and new ones are made and consecrated
by the magician. A special pot is used for the
preparation of the feast, and no other than it may be set on
a fire produced from the ‘husband and wife.’ When the
feast is over, the fire is carefully extinguished, and the pot
placed along with the sticks, where it remains untouched for
another year.”[694] But even for the purposes of daily life
these tribes still kindle fire in this manner, if they happen to be
without matches. “A native takes two special sticks, made of
a light wood. One of these he points: this is called the
male stick. He then makes a conical hole in the centre of
the other stick, which is called the female. Placing the
female stick on the ground, he holds it firmly by his feet—a
native finds no difficulty in this, as he can easily pick
things off the ground with his toes if his hands are full. He
then places the pointed stick into the conical hole, and
slowly twirls the male stick between his hands. He does
this while using a good deal of pressure, and the wood
becomes powdered, lying round the revolving point in a
little heap of dust. When he thinks he has made sufficient
of the wood dust, he twirls the stick very fast, and in a
moment the powder bursts into flame, which he uses to set
fire to some dried grass.”[695]
|Fire-customs of the Herero.|
The Damaras or Herero of Damaraland, in south-western
Africa, maintain sacred fires in their villages, and
their customs and beliefs in this respect present a close
resemblance to the Roman worship of Vesta. Fortunately
the Herero fire-worship has been described by a number
of independent witnesses, and as their accounts agree substantially
with each other, we may assume that they are
212correct. The people are a tall, finely-built race of nomadic
herdsmen belonging to the Bantu stock, who seem to
have migrated into their present country from the north
and east about a hundred and fifty or two hundred
years ago. The desert character of the country and its
seclusion from the outer world long combined to preserve
the primitive manners of the inhabitants.[696] In their native
state the Herero are a purely pastoral people, possessing
|The Herero a pastoral people.|
immense herds of cattle and flocks of sheep and goats,
which are the pride and joy of their hearts, almost their
idols. They subsist chiefly on the milk of their herds,
which they commonly drink sour. Of the flesh they make
but little use, for they seldom kill any of their cattle,
and never a cow, a calf, or a lamb. Even oxen and
weathers are only slaughtered on solemn and festal occasions,
such as visits, burials, and the like. Such slaughter is a
great event in a village, and young and old flock from far
and near to partake of the meat.[697] Their huts are of a round
|Huts and villages of the Herero.|
beehive shape, about ten feet in diameter. The framework
consists of stout branches, of which the lower ends are
rammed into the ground, while the upper ends are bent
together and tied with bark. A village is composed of a
number of these round huts arranged in a circle about the
calves’ pen as a centre and surrounded by an artificial hedge
of thorn-bushes.[698] At night the cattle are driven in through
213the hedge and take up their quarters in the open space
round the calves’ pen.[699]
|Sacred fire of the Herero village maintained in or before the
hut of the chief’s principal wife.|
The hut of the great or principal wife of the chief, built
and furnished in a more elaborate style than the rest,
regularly stands to the east of the calves’ pen, in the direction
of sunrise, so that from its position we can always learn
approximately the season of the year when the village was
founded. The chief or headman of the village has no special
hut of his own; he passes the day in the hut of the great
wife, and the night commonly in one of the huts of his other
wives in the northern semicircle. Between the house of the
great wife and the calves’ pen, but somewhat nearer to the
pen, is a large heap of ashes on which, in good weather, a
small, faintly glimmering fire may be seen to burn at any time
of the day. The heap of ashes is the sacred hearth (okuruo);
the fire is the holy fire (omurangere or omurangerero) of the
village. The open space between the sacred hearth and the
house of the great wife is known as the holy ground or the
holy house (otyizero).[700] Betwixt the hearth and the calves’
fold stands a great withered branch of the omumborombonga
(Combretum primigenum), the sacred tree of the Herero,
from which they believe that both they and their cattle
214are descended. When a branch of this tree cannot be
obtained its place is taken by a bough of the omwapu
tree (Grevia spec.)[701] At night and in rainy weather the
fire is transferred to the hut of the great wife, where it is
carefully kept alight.[702] According to another account, the
fire is regularly preserved in the house, and a brand is
only brought out into the open air when the cattle are
being milked at morning and evening in order that in presence
of the fire the cow may be healthy and give much milk.[703]
The custom in this respect perhaps varies in different
villages, and may be determined in some measure by the
climate. The sacred fire is regarded as the centre of the
village; from it at evening the people fetch a light to kindle
the fire on their own hearths, for every householder has his
own private hearth in front of his hut. At the holy hearth
are kept the most sacred possessions of the tribe, to wit, the
bundle of sticks which represent their ancestors; here
sacrifices are offered and enchantments performed; here
the flesh of the victims is cooked; here is the proper place
of the chief; here the elders assemble in council, and judgment
is given; here strangers are received and ambassadors
entertained. At the banquets held on solemn occasions all
may partake of the flesh, whether they be friends or foes;
the stranger’s curse would rest on the churl who should
refuse him his just share; and this curse the Herero dreads
above everything because he believes its effect to be
infallible. So great is the veneration felt by the natives for
the sacred hearth, with its hallowed bough, that they dare
not approach it without testifying the deepest respect.
They take off their sandals, throw themselves on the ground,
and pray their great ancestor (Tate Mukuru) to be gracious
to them. The horns of the oxen slaughtered at festivals lie
beside the hearth; the chief sits on the largest pair when he
is engaged in performing his magical rites. Near the fire, too,
is a stone on which none but the chief has the right to sit.[704]
215|The sacred fire among the Herero is watched and fed by the chief’s eldest unmarried
daughter, who performs other priestly duties.|
The duty of maintaining the sacred fire and preserving
it from extinction is entrusted to the eldest unmarried
daughter of the chief by his great wife; if he has no
daughter, the task devolves on the unmarried girl who is
next of kin to him. She bears the title of ondangere, derived
from the name of the sacred fire (omurangere).[705] Besides
keeping up the fire she has other priestly functions to
discharge. Before the men start on a dangerous expedition,
she rubs the holy ashes on their foreheads.[706] When a
woman brings her new-born infant to the sacred hearth
to receive its name, the maiden priestess or Vestal, as we
may call her, sprinkles water on both mother and child.[707]
Every morning, when the cattle walk out of the fold, she
besprinkles the fattest of them with a brush dipped in water.[708]
When an ox dies by accident at the village, she lays a piece
of wood on its back, praying at the same time for long life,
plenty of cattle, and so forth. Moreover, she ties a double
knot in her apron for the dead beast, for a curse would
follow if she neglected to do so.[709] Lastly, when the site of
the village is changed, the priestess walks at the head of the
people and of the herds, carrying a firebrand from the old
sacred hearth and taking the utmost care to keep it alight.[710]
The chief or headman of the village is also the priest;
|The Herero chief acts as a priest.|
he alone may perform religious ceremonies except such as
216fall within the province of the Vestal priestess, his daughter.
In his capacity of priest he keeps the sacred bundle of
sticks which represent the ancestors, and at sacrifices he
offers meat to them that they may consecrate it. When the
old village is abandoned, it is his duty to carry, like Aeneas
quitting the ruins of Troy,[711] these rude penates to the new
home. However, it is deemed enough if he merely places the
holy bundle on his back, and then hands it to a servant, who
carries it for him. As a priest he introduces the newborn
children to the spirits of the ancestors at the sacred hearth,
and gives the infants their names; and as a priest he has
a cow to himself, whose milk no one else may drink. This
milk is kept in vessels which differ from the ordinary milk
vessels, not only in shape and size, but also in being marked
with the badge of his paternal clan. When a man goes
forth from the village with his family and servants to herd
the cattle on a distant pasture, or to found another village,
he takes with him a burning brand from the sacred hearth
wherewith to kindle the holy fire in his new home. By
|Fire taken from the chief’s hearth by the founder of a new village.|
doing so he acknowledges himself the vassal of the chief
from whose hearth he took the fire. In this way a single
village may give out swarm after swarm, till it has become
the metropolis or capital of a whole group of villages, the
inhabitants of which recognise the supremacy of the parent
community, and regard themselves as all sitting round its
sacred fire. It is thus that a village may grow into a tribe
and its headman into a powerful chief, who, by means of
marriage alliances and the adhesion of weaker rivals, may
extend his sway over alien communities, and so gradually
acquire the rank and authority of a king.[712] The political
evolution of the Herero has indeed stopped short of this
final stage; but among the more advanced branches of the
Bantu race, such as the Zulus and the Matabeles, it is
possible that the kingship has developed along these lines.
217|The combined office of chief and priest among the Herero descends in the male line.|
The possession of the sacred fire and of the ancestral
sticks, carrying with it both political authority and priestly
dignity, descends in the male line, and hence generally passes
from father to son. In any case, whether the deceased had
a son or not, the double office of chief and priest must
always remain in his paternal clan (oruzo). If it should
happen that the clan becomes extinct by his death, the
|A chief’s sacred hearth abandoned for some time after his death.|
sacred fire is put out, the hearth destroyed, no brand is taken
from it, and the sticks representing the ancestors are laid
with the dead man in the grave. But should there be an
heir, as usually happens, he takes a fire-brand from the
sacred hearth and departs with all the people to seek a new
home, abandoning the old village for years. In time, however,
they return to the spot, rebuild the huts on the same
sites, and inhabit them again. But in the interval none of
the kinsmen of the deceased may approach the deserted
village under pain of incurring the wrath of the ghost.
When the return at last takes place, and the people have
announced their arrival to the dead chief at his grave, which
is generally in the cattle-pen, they make a new fire by the
friction of the two sacred fire-sticks on the old hearth; for
it is not lawful to bring with them a brand from their last
settlement.[713]
|The sacred Herero fire rekindled by the fire-drill.|
If the sacred fire should go out through the neglect of
the priestess, a sudden shower of rain, or any other accident,
the Herero deem it a very evil omen. The whole tribe is
immediately summoned and large offerings of cattle are made
as an expiation. Then the fire is relit by means of the
friction of two sacred fire-sticks, which have been handed
down from father to son. Every chief possesses such fire-sticks,
and keeps them tied up with the bundle of holy
sticks that represent the ancestors. One of the fire-sticks is
pointed, the other has a hole in the middle, and sometimes
also a notch cut round it. In the notch some fungus or
rotten wood is placed as tinder. The holed stick is held
218fast on the ground by the knees of the operator, who inserts
the point of the other stick in the hole and twirls it rapidly
between the palms of his hands in the usual way. As soon
as a spark is emitted it catches the tinder, which can then
easily be blown up into a flame. Thus it is from the tinder,
we are told, and not from the sticks, that the flame is
elicited. In this fashion, if everything is very dry, as it
generally is in Hereroland, the native gets fire in about a
minute. The names applied to the two sticks indicate that
the pointed stick (ondume) is regarded as male and the
holed stick (otyiya) as female, and that the process of
making fire by the friction of the two is compared to the
intercourse of the sexes. As to the wood of which the fire-sticks
are made accounts differ. According to Dr. H.
Schinz the holed or female stick is of a soft wood, the
pointed or male stick of a hard wood, generally of the
|The male fire-stick made of the sacred omumborombonga tree.|
sacred omumborombonga tree (Combretum primigenum).
According to Mr. C. G. Büttner, neither of the sticks need
be of a special tree, and any wood that happens to be at
hand may be employed for the purpose; only the wood of
the thorny acacias, which abound in the country, appears to
be unsuitable.[714] Probably the rule mentioned by Dr. Schinz
is the original one, and if in some places the wood of the
219sacred tree has ceased to be used to light the holy fire, the
reason may be simply that the tree does not grow there,
and that accordingly the people are obliged to use such
wood as they can find. We have seen that a branch of the
sacred omumborombonga tree is regularly planted beside the
village hearth, but that in default of it the people have to
put up with a bough of another kind of tree, the omuwapu
(Grevia spec).[715] Such substitutions were especially apt to be
forced on the Herero in the southern part of the country,
where the omumborombonga tree is very rare and forests do
not exist, the larger trees growing singly or in clumps. In
the north, on the other hand, vegetation is much richer, and
regular woods are to be found. Here, in particular, the
omumborombonga tree is one of the ornaments of the landscape.
It grows only beside water-courses, and generally
stands solitary, surpassing a tall oak in height, and rivalling
it in girth; indeed, so thick is the trunk that were it
hollowed out a family could lodge in it. Unlike most trees
in the country it is thornless. Whole forests of it grow to
the eastward of Hereroland, in the direction of Lake Ngami.
So close is the grain and so heavy the wood that some of
the early explorers gave it the name of the “iron tree.”[716]
Hence it is well adapted to form the upright stick of the
fire-drill, for which a hard wood is required.
|Herero tradition of the origin of men and cattle from the
sacred omumborombonga tree.|
The Herero have a tradition that in the beginning they
and their cattle and all four-footed beasts came forth from
the omumborombonga tree in a single day, whereas birds,
fish, and creeping things sprang from the rain. However,
slightly different versions of the Herero genesis appear to be
current. As to the origin of men and cattle from the tree,
public opinion is unanimous; but some dissenters hold that
sheep and perhaps goats, but certainly sheep, issued from a
flat rock in the north of the country. For some time past,
unfortunately, the tree has ceased to be prolific; it is of no
220use waiting beside it in the hope of capturing such oxen
and sheep as it might bear. Yet still the Herero testify
great respect for the tree which they regard as their ancestor
(omukuru). To injure it is deemed a sacrilege which the
ancestor will punish sooner or later. In passing it they
bow reverently and stick a bunch of green twigs or grass
into the trunk or throw it down at the foot. They address
the tree, saying, “U-zera tate mukururume, Thou art holy,
grandfather!” and they even enter into conversation with
it, giving the answers themselves in a changed voice. They
hardly dare to sit down in its shadow. All this reverence
they display for every tree of the species.[717]
|Migration from one country to another sometimes
involves a change of sacred tree.|
On the whole, then, we may infer that so long as the
Herero dwelt in a land where their ancestral tree abounded,
they made the male fire-stick from its wood; but that as
they gradually migrated from a region of tropical rains and
luxuriant forests to the arid mountains, open grass lands,
and dry torrid climate of their present country,[718] they had in
some places to forgo its use and to take another tree in its
stead. Similarly the Aryan invaders of Greece and Italy
were obliged, under a southern sky, to seek substitutes for
the sacred oak of their old northern home; and more and
more, as time went on and the deciduous woods retreated
up the mountain slopes, they found what they sought in the
laurel, the olive, and the vine. Zeus himself had to put up
with the white poplar at his great sanctuary of Olympia in
the hot lowlands of Elis;[719] and on summer days, when the
light leaves of the poplar hardly stirred in the languid air
and the buzz of the flies was more than usually exasperating,
221he perhaps looked wistfully away to the Arcadian mountains,
looming blue in the distance through a haze of heat, and
sighed for the shadow and the coolness of their oak
woods.
|The worship of the chief’s fire a form of ancestor-worship.|
Thus it appears that the sanctity ascribed by the Herero
to the chief’s fire springs from a custom of kindling it with
the wood of their ancestral tree; in fact, the cult of the fire
resolves itself into a form of ancestor-worship. For the
religion of the Herero, like that of all Bantu peoples, is first
and foremost a propitiation of the spirits of their forefathers
conceived as powerful beings able and willing to harm them.
From youth to death the Herero live in constant dread of
their ancestors (ovakuru, plural of omukuru), who, sometimes
seen and sometimes unseen, return to earth and play their
descendants many a spiteful trick. They glide into the
village, steal the milk, drive the cattle from the fold, and
waylay women. More than that, they can inflict disease
and death, decide the issue of war, and send or withhold
rain at pleasure. They are the cause of every vexation and
misfortune, and the whole aim of the living is by frequent
sacrifices to mollify and appease the dead.[720]
|The sacred hearth a special seat of the ancestral spirits.|
Now the sacred hearth seems to be in a special sense
the seat of the worship paid to the ancestral spirits. Here
the head of the family sits and communes with his forefather,
giving himself the answers he thinks fit.[721] Hither the
newborn child is brought with its mother to be introduced
to the spirits and to receive its name, and the chief, addressing
his ancestors, announces, “To you a child is born in your
village; may this village never come to an end!”[722] Hither
the bride is conducted at her marriage, and a sheep having
been sacrificed, its flesh is placed on the holy bushes at the
222hearth.[723] Hither the sick are carried to be commended to
the care of their ghostly kinsmen, and as the sufferer is
borne round and round the fire his friends chant:—
|Sacred sticks representing the deceased ancestors of the Herero.|
But the most tangible link between the worship of the
fire and the worship of the dead is furnished by the sacred
sticks representing the ancestors, which are kept in a bundle together
with the two sticks used for kindling the fire by friction.
Each of these rude idols or Lares, as we may call them, “symbolises
a definite ancestor of the paternal clan, and, taken
together, they may be regarded as the most sacred possession
of a family. They stand in the closest relation to the holy
hearth, or rather to the priestly dignity, and must therefore
always remain in the same paternal clan.”[725] These sticks
“are cut from trees or bushes which are dedicated to the
ancestors, and they represent the ancestors at the sacrificial
meals, for the cooked flesh of the victims is always set
before them first. Many people always keep these sticks,
tied up in a bundle with straps and hung with amulets,
in the branches of the sacrificial bushes which stand on the
sacred hearth (okuruo). The sacrificial bush serves to
support the severed pieces of the victim, and thus in a
measure represents an altar or table of sacrifice.”[726] When
after an absence of years the people return to a village
where a chief died and was buried, a new fire is kindled by
friction on the old hearth, the flesh of the first animal
slaughtered here is cooked in a particular vessel, and the
chief hands a portion of it to every person present. “An
image, consisting of two pieces of wood, supposed to
represent the household deity, or rather the deified parent,
is then produced, and moistened in the platter of each
individual. The chief then takes the image, and, after
affixing a piece of meat to the upper end of it, he plants
it in the ground, on the identical spot where his parent
223was accustomed to sacrifice. The first pail of milk produced
from the cattle is also taken to the grave; a small
quantity is poured on the ground, and a blessing asked on
the remainder.” Each clan, the writer adds, has a particular
tree or shrub consecrated to it, and of this tree or shrub the
two sticks representing the deceased are made.[727]
|The sacred sticks representing the ancestors are probably the fire-sticks
which were used to kindle fresh fire in the village after a death.|
In these accounts the sacred sticks which stand for the
ancestors, and to which the meat of sacrifices is first offered,
are distinguished, expressly or implicitly, from the sacred
sticks which are used to make the holy fire.[728] Other writers,
however, identify the two sets of sticks. Thus we are told
that the Herero “make images of their ancestors as follows.
They take the two sticks with which they make fire and tie
them together with a fresh wisp of corn. Then they worship
this object as their ancestor. They may approach it only
on their knees. For hours together they sit before it and
talk with it. If you ask them where they imagine their
ancestors to be, since they cannot surely be these sticks, they
answer that they do not know. The sticks are kept in the
house of the great wife.”[729] Again, another writer defines
the ondume or male fire-stick as a “stick representing an
omukuru, i.e. ancestor, deity, with which and the otyiza the
holy fire is made.”[730] Again, the Rev. G. Viehe, in describing
the ceremonies observed at the return to a deserted village
where an ancestor (omukuru) is buried, tells us that they
bring no fire with them, “but holy fire must now be obtained
from the omukuru. This is done with the ondume and the
224otyiza. The meaning of these two words plainly shows that
the first represents the omukuru, and the other his wife.”[731]
The same excellent authority defines the ozondume as “sticks
which represent the ovakuru, i.e. ancestors, deities”;[732] and
ozondume is simply the plural of ondume, the male fire-stick.[733]
Hence it appears highly probable that the sticks
representing the ancestors are, in fact, nothing but the male
fire-sticks, each of which was cut to make a new fire on the
return to the old village after a chiefs death. The stick
would be an appropriate emblem of the deceased, who had
been in his lifetime the owner of the sacred fire, and who
now after his death bestowed it on his descendants by means
of the friction of his wooden image. And the symbolism
will appear all the more natural when we remember that the
male fire-stick is generally made from the ancestral tree,
that the process of fire-making is regarded by the Herero as
the begetting of a child, and that their name for the stick,
according to the most probable etymology, signifies “the
begetter.” Such sticks would be far too sacred to be thrown
away when they had served their immediate purpose of
kindling a new fire, and thus in time a whole bundle of
them would accumulate, each of them recalling, and in a
sense representing, one of the great forefathers of the tribe.
When the old sticks had ceased to be used as fire-lighters,
and were preserved merely as memorials of the dead, it is
not surprising that their original function should be overlooked
by some European observers, who have thus been
led to distinguish them from the sticks by which the fire
is actually produced at the present day.[734] Amongst the
225|Sacred fire-boards among the Koryaks and Chuckchees of north-eastern Asia.|
Koryaks of north-eastern Asia, when the sacred fire-boards,
roughly carved in human form, are so full of holes that
they can no longer be used for the purpose of kindling fire,
they are still kept as holy relics in a shrine near the door
of the house; and a stranger who observed the respect
with which they are treated, but who did not know
their history, might well mistake them for figures of worshipful
ancestors and never guess the practical purpose
which they once served as fire-lighters. A Koryak family
regards its sacred fire-board not only as the deity of the
household fire, the guardian of the family hearth, but also
as the guardian of the reindeer, and they call it the “master
of the herd.” It is supposed to protect the reindeer from
wolves and from sickness and to prevent the animals from
straying away and being lost. When a reindeer is slaughtered,
the sacred fire-board is taken out and smeared with the
blood. The maritime Koryaks, who do not live by reindeer,
regard the sacred fire-board as the master of the
underground house and the helper in the hunt of sea-mammals.
They call it “father” and feed it from time to
time with fat, which they smear on its mouth.[735] Among
the neighbouring Chuckchees in the north-eastern extremity
of Asia similar ideas and customs obtain in respect of the
fire-boards. These are roughly carved in human form and
personified, almost deified, as the supernatural guardians of
the reindeer. The holes made by drilling in the board are
deemed the eyes of the figure and the squeaking noise produced
by the friction of the fire-drill in the hole is thought
to be its voice. At every sacrifice the mouth of the figure is
greased with tallow or with the marrow of bones. When a
new fire-board is made, it is consecrated by being smeared
with the blood of a slaughtered reindeer, and the owner
says, “Enough! Take up your abode here!” Then the
other fire-boards are brought to the same place and set side
by side on the ground. The owner says, “Ho! these are
your companions. See that I always find easily every kind
of game!” Next he slaughters another reindeer and says,
226“Hi! Since you are one of my young men, go and drive
the herd hither!” Then after a pause he asks the fire-board,
“Have you brought it?” to which in the name of
the fire-board he answers, “I have.” Thereupon, speaking
in his own person, he says, “Then catch some reindeer!
It seems that you will keep a good watch over the herd.
There, from the actual chief of the fire-boards, you may
learn wisdom.” These sacred fire-boards are often handed
down from generation to generation as family heir-looms.
During the calving-season they are taken from their bag
and placed behind the frame in the outer tent in order that
they may protect the dams.[736]
|The evolution of a fire-god or fire-goddess.|
These Koryak and Chuckchee customs illustrate the
evolution of a fire-god into the patron deity of a family and
his representation in human form by the board which is
used in fire-making. As the fire-board is that part of the
kindling apparatus which is commonly regarded as female
in contradistinction to the drill, which is regarded as male,
we can easily understand why the deity of the fire should
sometimes, as at Rome, be conceived as a goddess rather
than as a god; whereas if the drill itself were viewed as
the essential part of the apparatus we should expect to find
a fire-god and not a fire-goddess.
CHAPTER XVI FATHER JOVE AND MOTHER VESTA
227
|Similarity between the fire-customs of the Herero and the ancient Latins.|
The reader may remember that the preceding account of the
fire-customs of the Herero was introduced for the sake
of comparison with the Latin worship of Vesta. The points
of similarity between the two will now be indicated. In the
first place we have seen reason to hold that the ever-burning
Vestal fire at Rome was merely a survival of the fire on
the king’s hearth. So among the Herero the sacred fire
of the village is the chief’s fire, which is kept burning or
smouldering in his house by day and by night. In Rome,
as in Hereroland, the extinction of the fire was regarded as
an evil omen, which had to be expiated by sacrifices,[737] and
new fire was procured in primitive fashion by twirling the
point of one stick in the hole of another. The Roman
fire was fed with the wood of the sacred oak tree, just as the
African fire is kindled with the wood of the sacred omumborombonga
tree. Beside both were kept the images of the
ancestors, the Lares at Rome, the ozondume in Hereroland.
The king’s house which sheltered the fire and the
images was originally in Italy what the chief’s hut still is
in Hereroland, a circular hut of osiers, not as ancient
dreamers thought, because the earth is round,[738] nor yet
because a circle is the symbol of rest, but simply because
it is both easier and cheaper to build a round hut than a
square.[739]
228|The Roman Vestals, or some of them, appear to have been
originally the king’s daughters.|
Further, in Rome the sacred fire was tended, as it still
is in Hereroland, by unmarried women, and as the Herero
priestesses are the chiefs daughters, so, we may conjecture,
it was with some at least of the Vestals among the ancient
Latins. The Roman Vestals appear to have been under the
patria potestas of the king, and, in republican times, of the
Pontifex Maximus, who succeeded to some of the king’s
functions.[740] But if they were under the patria potestas of the
king, they must have been either his wives or daughters;
as virgins they cannot have been his wives; it remains,
therefore, that they were his daughters. Various circumstances
confirm this view. Their house at Rome, as we saw,
always adjoined the Regia, the old palace of the kings;
they were treated with marks of respect usually accorded to
royalty;[741] and the most famous of all the Vestals, the
mother of Romulus, was said to be a daughter of the King
of Alba.[742] The custom of putting an unfaithful Vestal to
death by immuring her in a subterranean chamber[743] may
have been adopted in order to avoid the necessity of taking
the life of a princess by violence;[744] for, as we shall learn later
on, there is a very widespread reluctance to spill royal blood.
229|Rites performed by the Vestals for the fertility of the earth
and the fecundity of cattle.|
Amongst the Herero the chief’s daughter who tends the
holy fire has also to perform certain priestly rites, which
have for their object the prosperity and multiplication of
the cattle.[745] So, too, it was with the Roman Vestals. On
the fifteenth of April every year pregnant cows were
sacrificed to the Earth goddess; the unborn calves were
torn from their mothers’ wombs, the chief Vestal burned
them and kept their ashes for use at the shepherds’ festival
of the Parilia. This sacrifice of pregnant cows was a
fertility charm designed, by a curious application of
homoeopathic magic, to quicken both the seed in the ground
and the wombs of the cows and the ewes.[746] At the Parilia,
held on the twenty-first of April, the Vestals mixed the
ashes of the unborn calves with the blood of a horse which
had been sacrificed in October, and this mixture they distributed
to shepherds, who fumigated their flocks with it
as a means of ensuring their fecundity and a plentiful supply
of milk.[747]
|The Vestals were probably regarded as embodiments of Vesta, who was a mother-goddess,
the bestower of offspring on cattle and women.|
Strange as at first it may seem to find holy virgins
assisting in operations intended to promote the fertility of
the earth and of cattle, this reproductive function accords
perfectly with the view that they were of old the wives
of the fire-god and the mothers of kings. On that view,
also, we can understand why down to imperial times the
Vestals adored the male emblem of generation,[748] and why
Vesta herself, the goddess of whom they were the priestesses
and probably the embodiments, was worshipped by the
Romans not as a virgin but as a mother.[749] She was sometimes
identified with Venus.[750] Like Diana, with whom she
was identified at Nemi, she appears to have been a goddess
of fecundity, who bestowed offspring both on cattle and on
women. That she was supposed to multiply cattle is
230indicated by the ceremonies which the Vestals performed
in April; that she made women to be mothers is hinted at
not obscurely by the legends of the birth of the old Latin
kings.[751] The ancient Aryan practice of leading a bride
thrice round the hearth of her new home[752] may have been
intended not merely to introduce her to the ancestral spirits
who had their seats there, but also to promote conception,
perhaps by allowing one of these very spirits to enter into
her and be born again. When the ancient Hindoo bridegroom
led his bride round the fire, he addressed the fire-god
|Custom of leading a bride round the fire perhaps a
fertility charm.|
Agni with the words, “Mayst thou give back, Agni, to the
husband the wife together with offspring.”[753] When a
Slavonian bride enters her husband’s house after marriage
she is led thrice round the hearth; then she must stir the fire
with the poker, saying, “As many sparks spring up, so many
cattle, so many male children shall enliven the new home.”[754]
At Mostar, in Herzegovina, the bride seats herself on a
bag of fruit beside the hearth in her new home and pokes
the fire thrice. While she does so, they bring her a small
231boy and set him on her lap. She turns the child thrice
round in order that she may give birth to male children.[755]
Still more clearly does belief in the impregnation of a
woman by fire come out in another South Slavonian custom.
When a wife wishes to have a child, she will hold a vessel
full of water beside the fire on the hearth, while her husband
knocks two burning brands together so that the sparks fly
out. When some of them have fallen into the vessel, the
woman drinks the water which has thus been fertilised by
the fire.[756] The same belief seems still to linger in England;
for there is a Lincolnshire saying that if a woman’s apron is
burned above the knee by a spark or red-hot cinder flying
out of a fire, she will become a mother.[757] Thus the superstition
which gave rise to the stories of the birth of the old
Roman kings holds its ground to this day in Europe, even
in our own country. So indestructible are the crude fancies
of our savage forefathers. Thus we may safely infer
that the old practice of leading a bride formally to or
round the hearth was designed to make her fruitful
through the generative virtue ascribed to the fire. The
custom is not confined to peoples of the Aryan stock, for it
is observed also by the Esthonians and the Wotyaks of
Russia[758] and, as we have seen, by the Herero of South
Africa.[759] It expresses in daily life the same idea which is
embodied in the myths of the birth of Servius Tullius and
the other Latin kings, whose virgin mothers conceived
through contact with a spark or tongue of fire.[760]
|New-born children brought to the hearth as a mode of introducing them to
the ancestral spirits.|
Accordingly, where beliefs and customs of this sort have
232prevailed, it is easy to understand why new-born children
should be brought to the hearth, and why their birth should
there be solemnly announced to the ancestors. This is done
by the Herero,[761] and in like manner on the fifth or seventh
day after a birth the ancient Greeks used to run naked
round the hearth with the new-born babe in their arms.[762]
This Greek ceremony may perhaps be regarded as merely a
purification, in other words as a means of keeping at bay
the demons who lie in wait for infants. Certainly in other
parts of the world a custom has prevailed of passing a newly
born child backwards and forwards through the smoke of the
fire for the express purpose of warding off evil spirits or
other baleful influences.[763] Yet on the analogy of the preceding
customs we may conjecture that a practice of
solemnly bringing infants to the domestic hearth has also
been resorted to as a mode of introducing them to the
spirits of their fathers.[764] In Russia the old belief that the
souls of the ancestors were somehow in the fire on the
hearth has left traces of itself down to the present time.
Thus in the Nijegorod Government it is still forbidden to
break up the smouldering faggots in a stove, because to do
so might cause the ancestors to fall through into hell. And
when a Russian family moves from one house to another,
the fire is raked out of the old stove into a jar and solemnly
233conveyed to the new one, where it is received with the words,
“Welcome, grandfather, to the new home!”[765]
|Reasons why a procreative virtue was ascribed to fire.|
But why, it may be asked, should a procreative virtue
be attributed to the fire, which at first sight appears to be a
purely destructive agent? and why in particular should
the ancestral spirits be conceived as present in it? Two
different reasons perhaps led savage philosophers to these
conclusions. In the first place the common mode of making
fire by means of the fire-drill has suggested, as we have seen,
to many savages the notion that fire is the child of the fire-sticks,
in other words that the rubbing of the fire-sticks
together is a sexual union which begets offspring in the
shape of a flame. This of itself suffices to impress on the
mind of a savage the idea that a capacity of reproduction is
innate in the fire, and consequently that a woman may
conceive by contact with it. Strictly speaking, he ought
perhaps to refer this power of reproduction not to the fire
but to the fire-sticks; but savage thought is in general too
vague to distinguish clearly between cause and effect. If he
thinks the matter out, as he may do if he is more than
usually reflective, the savage will probably conclude that fire
|The process of making fire by friction seems to the savage
an act of generation.|
exists unseen in all wood, and is only elicited from it by
friction,[766] so that the spark or flame is the child, not so much
of the fire-sticks, as of the parent fires in them. But this
refinement of thought may well be above the reach even of
a savage philosopher. The second reason which seems
to have led early man to associate the fire with the souls
of his ancestors was a superstitious veneration for the
ancestral tree which furnished either the fuel for the
sacred fire or the material out of which he carved one
or both of the fire-sticks. Among the Herero, as we
|Again, the fire was associated with the ancestors through the sacred
ancestral tree which furnished either the fuel or the fire-sticks.|
saw, the male fire-stick commonly is, or used to be,
made out of the holy omumborombonga tree, from which
they believe that they and their cattle sprang in days of
old. Hence nothing could be more natural than that
they should regard the fire produced by the friction of a
234piece of the ancestral tree, as akin to themselves, the
offspring of the same mighty forefather, to wit, the sacred
tree. Similarly, the Vestal fire at Rome was fed with the
wood of the oak, the sacred tree of Jupiter, and the first
Romans are described as “born of the tree trunks and the
heart of oak.”[767] No wonder, then, that the Latin kings,
who claimed to represent Jupiter, and in that capacity
masqueraded in his costume and made mock thunder, should
have prided themselves on being sprung from a fire which
was fed with the wood of the god’s holy tree; such an origin
was only another form of descent from the oak and from the
god of the oak, Jupiter himself.
|Esthonian marriage custom.|
The theory that impregnation by fire is really impregnation
by the wood of the tree with which the fire is kindled,
derives some confirmation from a custom which is observed
at marriage by some of the Esthonians in the neighbourhood
of Oberpahlen. The bride is escorted to a tree, which is
thereupon cut down and burned. When the fire blazes up,
she is led thrice round it and placed between three armed
men, who clash their swords over her head, while the women
sing a song. Then some coins are thrown into the fire, and
when it has died out they are recovered and knocked into
the stump of the tree, which was cut down to serve as
fuel.[768] This is clearly a mode of rewarding, first the fire,
and next the tree, for some benefit they have conferred on
the bride. But in early society husband and wife desire
nothing so much as offspring; this therefore may very well
be the benefit for which the Esthonian bride repays the tree.
|The conception of the Fire-mother intimately bound up with that
of the female fire-stick in the fire-drill.|
Thus far we have regarded mainly the paternal aspect
of the fire, which the Latins mythically embodied in Jupiter,
that is literally Father Jove, the god of the oak. The
maternal aspect of the fire was for them represented by
Mother Vesta, as they called her; and as the Roman king
stood for Father Jove, so his wife or daughter—the practice
on this point appears to have varied—stood for Mother Vesta.
Sometimes, as we have seen, the Vestal virgins, the priestesses
or rather incarnations of Vesta, appear to have been
the daughters, not the wives, of the king. But, on the other
235hand, there are grounds for thinking that the wife of King
Latinus, the legendary ancestor of the Latins, was traditionally
regarded as a Vestal,[769] and the analogy of the Flamen
Dialis with his wife the Flaminica, as I shall shew presently,
points also to a married pair of priestly functionaries concerned
with the kindling and maintenance of the sacred fire.
However that may have been, we may take it as probable
that the notion of the fire-mother was intimately associated
with, if it did not spring directly from, the female fire-stick
of the fire-drill, just as the conception of the fire-father was
similarly bound up with the male fire-stick.
|The Fire-father and the Fire-mother represented by a priest and priestess who
together made the sacred fire by means of the fire-drill.|
Further, it seems that these mythical beings, the fire-father
and the fire-mother, were represented in real life by a
priest and a priestess, who together made the sacred fire, the
priest appropriately twirling the pointed male stick, while
the priestess held fast on the ground the holed female stick,
ready to blow up into a flame the spark which fell on the
tinder. In the composite religion of Rome, formed like the
Roman state by the fusion of several tribes, each with its
own gods and priests, such pairs of fire-priests may at first
have been duplicated. In one or more of the tribes which
afterwards made up the Roman commonwealth the function
of kindling the holy fire of oak was perhaps assigned to the
Flamen Dialis and his wife the Flaminica, the living
representatives of Jupiter and Juno; and if, as some scholars
think, the name flamen comes from flare, “to blow up,”[770] the
derivation would fit well with this theory. But in historical
Rome the duty of making the sacred fire lay with the
Vestal virgins and the chief pontiff.[771] The mode in which
they shared the work between them is not described by
ancient writers, but we may suppose that one of the
virgins held the board of lucky wood on the ground while
the pontiff inserted the point of a peg into the hole of the
board and made the peg revolve rapidly between the palms
of his hands. When the likeness of this mode of producing
fire to the intercourse of the sexes had once struck people,
236they would deem it unnatural, and even indecent, for
a woman to usurp the man’s function of twirling the pointed
male stick. But the Vestals certainly helped to make fire
by friction; it would seem, therefore, that the part they
took in the process can only have been the one I have
conjecturally assigned to them. At all events, the conjecture
is supported by the following analogies.
|Among the Djakuns fire is made by the leader and his unmarried daughter.|
The Djakuns, a wild tribe of the Malay Peninsula, are
in the habit of making fire by friction. A traveller has
described the custom as follows: “When a troop was on a
journey and intended either to pitch a temporary camp, or
to make a longer settlement, the first camp fire was kindled
for good luck by an unmarried girl with the help of the
fire-drill. Generally this girl was the daughter of the man
who served the troop as leader. It was deemed of special
importance that on the first night of a settlement the fire of
every band should be lit by the unmarried daughter of a
leader. But she might only discharge this duty if she had
not her monthly sickness on her at the time. This custom
is all the more remarkable inasmuch as the Djakuns in
their migrations always carried a smouldering rope of bark
with them.” “When the fire was to be kindled, the girl
took the piece of soft wood and held it on the ground, while
her father, or any other married man, twirled the vertical
borer upon it. She waited for the spark to spring from the
wood, and fanned it into a flame either by blowing on it or
by waving the piece of wood quickly about in her hand.
For this purpose she caught the spark in a bundle of teased
bark and exposed it to a draught of air.” “Fire so produced
was employed to kindle the other fires for that night. They
ascribed to it good luck in cooking and a greater power of
keeping off tigers and so forth, than if the first fire had been
kindled by a spark from the smouldering bark rope.”[772] This
237account suggests a reason why a holy fire should be tended
by a number of virgins: one or more of them might at any
time be incapacitated by a natural infirmity for the discharge
of the sacred duty.
|Among the Slavs of the Balkans fire is made by a young
girl and boy.|
Again, the Slavs of the Balkan Peninsula ascribe a
healing or protective power to “living fire,” and when an
epidemic is raging in a village they will sometimes
extinguish all the fires on the hearths and procure a “living
fire” by the friction of wood. At the present day this is
done by various mechanical devices, but the oldest method,
now almost obsolete, is said to be as follows:—A girl and a
boy between the ages of eleven and fourteen, having been
chosen to make the fire, are led into a dark room, where
they must strip themselves of all their clothes without
speaking a word. Then two perfectly dry cylindrical pieces
of lime-wood are given them, which they must rub rapidly
against each other, turn about, till they take fire. Tinder is
then lit at the flame and used for the purpose of healing.
This mode of kindling the “living fire” is still practised in
the Schar Mountains of Old Servia. The writer who
describes it witnessed some years ago the use of the sacred
fire at the village of Setonje, at the foot of the Homolye
Mountains, in the heart of the great Servian forest. But on
that occasion the fire was made in the manner described,
not by a boy and girl, but by an old woman and an old
man. Every fire in the village had previously been
extinguished, and was afterwards relit with the new
fire.[773]
|Among the Kachins fire is made by a man and woman jointly.|
Among the Kachins of Burma, when people take solemn
possession of a new house, a new fire is made in front of it
by a man and woman jointly. A dry piece of bamboo is
pegged down on the ground; the two fire-makers sit down
238facing each other at either end of it, and together rub
another piece of bamboo on the horizontal piece, one of
them holding the wrists of the other and both pressing
down firmly till fire is elicited.[774]
|Thus the conception of the fire-sticks as male and female is carried
out by requiring the male stick to be worked by a man and the female stick to be
worked by a woman.|
In the first at least of these customs, it is plain, the conception
of the fire-sticks as male and female has been logically
carried out by requiring the male fire-stick to be worked
by a man and the female fire-stick to be held by a woman.
But opinions seem to differ on the question whether the fire-makers
|But opinions differ as to whether the fire-makers should be married or single.|
should be wedded or single. The Djakuns prefer
that the man should be married and the woman unmarried;
on the other hand, the Slavs of the Schar Mountains clearly
think it better that both should be single, since they entrust
the duty of making the fire to a boy and girl. In so far as
the man’s part in the work is concerned, some of our Scottish
Highlanders agree with the Djakuns at the other end of the
world; for the natives of Lewis “did also make use of a fire
called Tin-egin, i.e. a forced fire, or fire of necessity, which
they used as an antidote against the plague or murrain in
cattle; and it was performed thus: all the fires in the parish
were extinguished, and then eighty-one married men, being
thought the necessary number for effecting this design, took
two great planks of wood, and nine of them were employed
by turns, who by their repeated efforts rubbed one of the
planks against the other until the heat thereof produced
fire; and from this forced fire each family is supplied with
new fire, which is no sooner kindled than a pot full of water
is quickly set on it, and afterwards sprinkled upon the people
infected with the plague, or upon the cattle that have the
murrain. And this they all say they find successful by
experiment: it was practised in the main land, opposite to
the south of Skie, within these thirty years.”[775] On the
other hand, the Germans of Halberstadt sided with the
South Slavs on this point, for they caused the forced fire, or
need fire, as it is commonly called, to be made by two chaste
boys, who pulled at a rope which ran round a wooden
239cylinder.[776] The theory and practice of the Basutos in South
Africa were similar. After a birth had taken place they
used to kindle the fire of the hut afresh, and “for this purpose
it was necessary that a young man of chaste habits should
rub two pieces of wood quickly one against another, until a
flame sprung up, pure as himself. It was firmly believed
that a premature death awaited him who should dare to
take upon himself this office, after having lost his innocence.
As soon, therefore, as a birth was proclaimed in the village,
the fathers took their sons to undergo the ordeal. Those
who felt themselves guilty confessed their crime, and
submitted to be scourged rather than expose themselves to
the consequences of a fatal temerity.”[777]
|Reasons for entrusting the making of fire to unmarried
boys and girls.|
It is not hard to divine why the task of twirling the
male fire-stick in the hole of the female fire-stick should by
some people be assigned to married men. The analogy of
the process to the intercourse of the sexes furnishes an
obvious reason. It is less easy to understand why other
people should prefer to entrust the duty to unmarried boys.
But probably the preference is based on a belief that chastity
leaves the boys with a stock of reproductive energy which
they may expend on the operation of fire-making, whereas
married men dissipate the same energy in other channels.
A somewhat similar train of thought may explain a rule of
virginity enjoined on women who assist in the production of
fire by holding the female fire-stick on the ground. As a
virgin’s womb is free to conceive, so, it might be thought, will
be the womb of the female fire-stick which she holds; whereas
had the female fire-maker been already with child, she could
not be reimpregnated, and consequently the female fire-stick
could not give birth to a spark. Thus, in the sympathetic
connexion between the fire-sticks and the fire-makers we
seem to reach the ultimate origin of the order of the Vestal
Virgins: they had to be chaste, because otherwise they could
not light the fire. Once when the sacred fire had gone out, the
Vestal in charge of it was suspected of having brought about
the calamity by her unchastity, but she triumphantly
repelled the suspicion by eliciting a flame from the cold
240ashes.[778] Ideas of the same primitive kind still linger among
the French peasantry, who think that if a girl can blow up
a smouldering candle into a flame she is a virgin, but that if
she fails to do so, she is not.[779] In ancient Greece none but
persons of pure life were allowed to blow up the holy fire
with their mouths; a vile man who had polluted his lips
was deemed unworthy to discharge the duty.[780]
|The holy fire and virgins of St. Brigit in Ireland.|
The French superstition, which I have just mentioned,
may well date from Druidical times, for there are some
grounds for thinking that among the old Celts, as among
their near kinsmen the Latins, holy fires were tended by
virgins. In our own country perpetual fires were maintained
in the temple of a goddess whom the Romans identified with
Minerva,[781] but whose native Celtic name seems to have been
Brigit. Like Minerva, Brigit was a goddess of poetry and
wisdom, and she had two sisters also called Brigit, who
presided over leechcraft and smithcraft respectively. This
appears to be only another way of saying that Brigit was
the patroness of bards, physicians, and smiths.[782] Now, at
Kildare in Ireland the nuns of St. Brigit tended a perpetual
holy fire down to the suppression of the monasteries under
Henry VIII.; and we can hardly doubt that in doing so
they merely kept up, under a Christian name, an ancient
pagan worship of Brigit in her character of a fire-goddess or
patroness of smiths. The nuns were nineteen in number.
Each of them had the care of the fire for a single night in
turn; and on the twentieth evening the last nun, having
241heaped wood on the fire, used to say, “Brigit, take charge
of your own fire; for this night belongs to you.” She then
went away, and next morning they always found the fire
still burning and the usual quantity of fuel consumed. Like
the Vestal fire at Rome in the old days, the fire of St.
Brigit burned within a circular enclosure made of stakes
and brushwood, and no male might set foot inside the fence.
The nuns were allowed to fan the fire or blow it up with
bellows, but they might not blow on it with their breath.[783]|Not to breathe on a holy fire.|
Similarly it is said that the Balkan Slavs will not blow with
their mouths on the holy fire of the domestic hearth;[784] a
Brahman is forbidden to blow a fire with his mouth;[785] and
among the Parsees the priests have to wear a veil over their
mouth lest they should defile the sacred fire by their breath.[786]
The custom of maintaining a perpetual fire was not peculiar
|Other perpetual fires in Ireland.|
to Kildare, but seems to have been common in Ireland, for
the native records shew that such fires were kept up in
several monasteries, in each of which a small church or
oratory was set apart for the purpose. This was done, for
242example, at the monasteries of Seirkieran, Kilmainham, and
Inishmurray.[787] We may conjecture that these holy fires
were merely survivals of the perpetual fires which in pagan
|St. Brigit’s fire perhaps fed with oak-wood.|
times had burned in honour of Brigit. The view that Brigit
was a fire-goddess is confirmed by the observation that in
the Christian calendar her festival falls the day before
Candlemas, and the customs observed at that season by
Celtic peasantry seem to prove that she was a goddess of
the crops as well as of fire.[788] If that was so, it is another
reason for comparing her to Vesta, whose priestesses performed
ceremonies to fertilise both the earth and the cattle.[789]
Further, there are some grounds for connecting Brigit, like
Vesta, with the oak; for at Kildare her Christian namesake,
St. Brigit, otherwise known as St. Bride or St. Bridget, built
her church under an oak-tree, which existed till the tenth
century, and gave its name to the spot, for Kildare is Cilldara,
“the church of the oak-tree.”[790] The “church of the
oak” may well have displaced a temple or sanctuary of the
oak, where in Druidical days the holy fire was fed, like the
Vestal fire at Rome, with the wood of the sacred tree.
|Early Irish monasteries built in oak groves.|
We may suspect that a conversion of this sort was often
effected in Ireland by the early Christian missionaries. The
monasteries of Derry and Durrow, founded by St. Columba,
were both named after the oak groves amidst which they
were built; and at Derry the saint spared the beautiful trees
and strictly enjoined his successors to do the same. In his
old age, when he lived an exile on the shores of the bleak
storm-swept isle of Iona, his heart yearned to the home of
his youth among the oak groves of Ireland, and he gave
expression to the yearning in passionate verse:—
“That spot is the dearest on Erin’s ground,
For the treasures that peace and purity lend,
For the hosts of bright angels that circle it round,
Protecting its borders from end to end.
243“The dearest of any on Erin’s ground,
For its peace and its beauty I gave it my love;
Each leaf of the oaks around Derry is found
To be crowded with angels from heaven above.
“My Derry! my Derry! my little oak grove,
My dwelling, my home, and my own little cell,
May God the Eternal in Heaven above
Send death to thy foes, and defend thee well.”[791]
A feeling of the same sort came over a very different
exile in a very different scene, when growing old amid the
turmoil, the gaieties, the distractions of Paris, he remembered
the German oak woods of his youth.
“Ich hatte einst ein schönes Vaterland.
Der Eichenbaum
Wuchs dort so hoch, die Veilchen nickten sanft.
Es war ein Traum.”
|Virgin priestesses of fire among the Incas of Peru.|
Far from the oaks of Erin and the saint’s last home
among the stormy Hebrides, a sacred fire has been
tended by holy virgins, with statelier rites and in more
solemn fanes, under the equinoctial line. The Incas of
Peru, who deemed themselves the children of the Sun,
procured a new fire from their great father at the solstice
in June, our Midsummer Day. They kindled it by holding
towards the sun a hollow mirror, which reflected his beams
on a tinder of cotton wool. But if the sky happened to be
overcast at the time, they made the new fire by rubbing two
sticks against each other; and they looked upon it as a
bad omen when they were obliged to do this, for they said
the Sun must be angry with them, since he refused to kindle
the flame with his own hand. The sacred fire, however
obtained, was deposited at Cuzco, the capital of Peru, in the
temple of the Sun, and also in a great convent of holy
virgins, who guarded it carefully throughout the year, and it
was an evil augury if they suffered it to go out. These
244|Wives of the Sun in Peru.|
virgins were regarded as the wives of the Sun, and they
were bound to perpetual chastity. If any of them proved
unfaithful to her husband the Sun, she was buried alive, like
a Roman Vestal, and her paramour was strangled. The
reason for putting her to death in this manner was probably,
as at Rome, a reluctance to shed royal blood; for all
these virgins were of the royal family, being daughters of
the Incas or of his kinsmen. Besides tending the holy fire,
they had to weave and make all the clothes worn by the
Inca and his legitimate wife, to bake the bread that was
offered to the Sun at his great festivals, and to brew the
wine which the Inca and his family drank on these occasions.
All the furniture of the convent, down to the pots,
pans, and jars, were of gold and silver, just as in the temple
of the Sun, because the virgins were deemed to be his wives.
And they had a golden garden, where the very clods were
of fine gold; where golden maize reared its stalks, leaves
and cobs, all of the precious metal; and where golden
shepherds, with slings and crooks of gold, tended golden
sheep and lambs.[792] The analogy of these virgin guardians
245of the sacred flame furnishes an argument in favour of the
view set forth in the preceding pages; for if the Peruvian
Vestals were the brides of the Sun, may not the Roman
Vestals have been the brides of the Fire?
|Virgin priestesses of fire in Mexico and Yucatan.|
On the summit of the great pyramidal temple at Mexico
two fires burned continually on stone hearths in front of two
chapels, and dreadful misfortunes were supposed to follow if
the fires were allowed to go out. They were kept up by
priests and maidens, some of whom had taken a vow of perpetual
virginity. But most of these girls seem to have served
only for a year or more until their marriage. They offered
incense to the idols, wove cloths for the service of the temple,
swept the sacred area, and baked the cakes which were presented
to the gods but eaten by their priests. They were
clad all in white, without any ornament. A broom and a
censer were their emblems. Death was the penalty inflicted
on the faithless virgin who polluted by her incontinence the
temple of the god.[793] In Yucatan there was an order of
246Vestals instituted by a princess, who acted as lady-superior
and was deified after her death under the title of the Virgin
of the Fire. The members enrolled themselves voluntarily
either for life or for a term of years, after which they might
marry. Their duty was to tend the sacred fire, the emblem
of the sun. If they broke their vow of chastity or allowed
the fire to go out, they were shot to death with arrows.[794]
|Virgin priestesses of fire among the Baganda.|
Amongst the Baganda of Central Africa there used to
be an order of Vestal Virgins (bakaja) who were attached
to the temples of the gods. Their duties were to keep the
fire of the god burning all night, to see that there was a
good supply of firewood, and to watch that the suppliants
did not bring to the deity anything that was tabooed to
him. These maidens are also said to have had charge of
some of the vessels. All of them were young girls; no
man might touch them; and when they reached the age of
puberty, the god ordered them to be given in marriage.
The place of a girl who thus vacated office had to be
supplied by another girl taken from the same clan.[795]
|Resemblance between the Flamen Dialis of the Romans and the
Agnihotri or fire-priest of the Brahmans.|
We have seen that some people commit the task of
making fire by friction to married men; and following the
opinion of other scholars I have conjectured that in some of
the Latin tribes the duty of kindling and feeding the sacred
fire may have been assigned to the Flamen Dialis, who had
always to be married; if his wife died, he vacated his office.[796]
The sanctity of his fire is proved by the rule that no brand
might be taken from his house except for the purpose of a
247sacrifice.[797] Further, the importance ascribed to the discharge
of his duties is attested by another old rule which forbade
him to be absent from his house in Rome for a single
night.[798] The prohibition would be intelligible if one of his
duties had formerly been to superintend the maintenance of
a perpetual fire. However that may have been, the life of
the priest was regulated by a whole code of curious restrictions
or taboos, which rendered the office so burdensome
and vexatious that, in spite of the high honours attached
to the post, for a period of more than seventy years together
no man was found willing to undertake it.[799] Some
of these restrictions will be examined later on.[800] Their
similarity to the rules of life still observed in India by
the Brahmans who are fire-priests (Agnihotris) seems to
confirm the view that the Flamen also was originally a fire-priest.
The parallel between the two priesthoods would be
all the more remarkable if, as some scholars hold, the very
names Brahman and Flamen are philologically identical.[801]
As to these Brahmanical fire-priests or Agnihotris we are
told that the number of them nowadays is very limited,
because the ceremonies involve heavy expenditure, and the
rules which regulate them are very elaborate and difficult.
The offering of food to the fire at meals is, indeed, one of the
five daily duties of every Brahman; but the regular fire-service
is the special duty of the Agnihotri. In order that
he may be ceremonially pure he is bound by certain obligations
not to travel or remain away from home for any long
time; to sell nothing which is produced by himself or his
248family; to pay little attention to worldly affairs; to speak
the truth; to bathe and worship the deities in the afternoon
as well as in the morning; and to sacrifice to his deceased
ancestors on the fifteenth of every month. He is not
allowed to take food at night. He may not eat alkaline
salt, meat, honey, and inferior grain, such as some varieties
of pulse, millet, and the egg plant. He never wears shoes
nor sleeps on a bed, but always on the ground. He is
expected to keep awake most of the night and to study the
Shâstras. He may have no connexion with, nor unholy
thoughts regarding, any woman but his wife; and he must
abstain from every other act that involves personal impurity.[802]
With these rules we may compare some of the obligations
laid on the Flamen Dialis. In the old days, as we saw, he
was bound never to be absent from his house for a single
night. He might not touch or even name raw meat, beans,
ivy, and a she-goat; he might not eat leavened bread, nor
touch a dead body; and the feet of his bed had always to
be smeared with mud.[803] This last rule seems to be a mitigation
of an older custom of sleeping on the ground, a custom
which is still observed by the fire-priest in India, as it was
in antiquity by the priests of Zeus at Dodona.[804] Similarly
the priest of the old Prussian god Potrimpo was bound to
sleep on the bare earth for three nights before he sacrificed
to the deity.[805]
|Mode in which the Agnihotri procures fresh fire
by the friction of fire-sticks.|
Every Agnihotri has a separate room in his house where
the sacred fire is kept burning in a small pit of a cubit
square. Should the fire chance to go out, the priest must
get fresh fire from another priest or procure it by the
friction of fire-sticks (arani). These comprise, first, a block
of sami wood (Prosopis spicigera) in which a small hole is
made emblematical of the female principle (sakti yoni), and,
second, an upright shaft which is made to revolve in the
249hole of the block by means of a rope. The point in the
drill where the rope is applied to cause it to revolve is called
deva yoni. Two priests take part in the operation. Before
they begin they sing a hymn in honour of the fire-god Agni.
When the fire has been kindled they place it in a copper
vessel and sprinkle it with powdered cow-dung. When it
is well alight, they cover it with another copper vessel,
sprinkle it with drops of water, and sing another hymn in
honour of Agni. Finally, the new fire is consigned to the
fire-pit.[806] According to another description of the modern
Indian fire-drill, the lower block is usually made of the hard
wood of the khadira or khair tree (Acacia catechu), and it
contains two shallow holes. In one of these holes the
revolving drill works and produces sparks by friction; the
other hole contains tinder which is ignited by means of the
sparks. This latter hole is known as the yoni, the female
organ of generation. The upper or revolving portion of the
drill is called the pramantha. It consists of a round shaft
of hard wood, with a spike of softer wood inserted in its
lower end. One priest causes the shaft to revolve by
pulling a cord, while another priest presses the spike down
into the hole in the block by leaning hard upon a flat board
placed on the top of the shaft. The spike is generally
made of the peepul or sacred fig-tree. When it has become
charred by friction, it is replaced by another.[807] According to
one account, the fire is made in this fashion, not by two
priests, but by the Brahman and his wife; she pulls the
cord, while he holds the borer in the hole and recites the
spells necessary for the production of the fire.[808]
|The Indian fire-sticks made from the sacred fig and sami wood.|
This practice of the modern Agnihotri or fire-priest of
India is in general accord with the precepts laid down in
the ancient sacred books of his religion. For these direct
that the upper or male stick of the fire-drill should be made
of the sacred fig-tree (asvattha), and the lower or female
stick of sami wood (Prosopis spicigera); and they draw out
the analogy between the process of fire-making and the
intercourse of the sexes in minute detail.[809] It deserves to be
250|The male fire-stick made by preference from a sacred fig-tree
growing as a parasite on the female sami tree.|
noted that the male fire-stick was cut by preference from a
sacred fig-tree which grew as a parasite on a sami or female
tree. The reason for this preference is obvious to the
primitive mind. A parasite clasping a tree with its tendrils
is conceived as a man embracing a woman, hence a pair of
fire-sticks made from a pair of trees thus interlaced will
naturally possess the power of procreating fire by friction in
an unusually high degree.[810] So completely, in the Hindoo
mind, does the process of making fire by friction blend with
the union of the human sexes that it is actually employed
as part of a charm to procure male offspring.[811] Such a confusion
of thought helps us to understand the part played by
the domestic fire in the ritual of marriage and birth as well
as in the legends of the miraculous origin of the Latin
kings.[812] In ancient India the male and the female fire-stick
were identified with King Pururavas and the nymph Urvasi,
whose loves and sorrows formed the theme of a beautiful
tale.[813]
251|The Greeks also preferred to make one of the fire-sticks from a
parasitic plant.|
Like the ancient Indians, the Greeks seem to have
preferred that one of the two fire-sticks should be made from
a parasitic or creeping plant. They recommended that the
borer of the fire-drill should be made of laurel and the board
of ivy or another creeper, apparently a kind of wild vine
which grew like ivy upon trees; but in practice both the
borer and the board were sometimes made of other woods,
among which buckthorn, the evergreen oak, and the lime are
particularly mentioned.[814] When we consider the analogy of
the Indian preference for a borer made from a parasite, and
remember how deeply rooted in the primitive mind is the
comparison of the friction of the fire-sticks to the union
|The reason for such a preference is the analogy of
the union of the sexes.|
of the sexes, we shall hardly doubt that the Greeks originally
chose the ivy or wild vine for a fire-stick from motives of
the sort which led the Hindoos to select the wood of a
parasitic fig-tree for the same purpose. But while the
Hindoos regarded the parasite as male and the tree to which
it clung as female, the Greeks of Theophrastus’s time seem
to have inverted this conception, since they recommended
that the board, which plays the part of the female in the
fire-drill, should be made of ivy or another creeper, whereas
the borer, which necessarily represents the male, was to be
fashioned out of laurel. This would imply that the ivy was
a female and the laurel a male. Yet in Greek, on the contrary,
the word for ivy is masculine, and the plant was
identified mythologically with the male god Dionysus;[815]
whereas the word for laurel is feminine and the tree was
identified with a nymph. Hence we may conjecture that at
first the Greeks, like the Hindoos, regarded the clinging
252creeper as the male and the tree which it embraced as the
female, and that of old, therefore, they made the borer of the
fire-drill out of ivy and the board out of laurel. If this was
so, the reasons which led them to reverse the usage can only
be guessed at. Perhaps practical convenience had a share
in bringing about the change. For the laurel is, as the late
Professor H. Marshall Ward kindly informed me, a harder wood
than the ivy, and to judge by general, though not universal,
practice most people find it easier to make fire by the
friction of a hard borer on a soft board than by rubbing a
hard board with a soft point. This, therefore, would be a
reason for making the borer of laurel and the board of ivy. If
such a change took place in the history of the Greek fire-drill,
it would be an interesting example of superstition modified, if
not vanquished, by utility in the struggle for existence.
CHAPTER XVII THE ORIGIN OF PERPETUAL FIRES
253
|The custom of maintaining a perpetual fire probably originated in the
difficulty of making fire by friction.|
Whatever superstitions may have gathered about it in
the course of ages, the custom of maintaining a perpetual
fire probably sprang from a simple consideration of practical
convenience. The primitive mode of making fire by the
friction of wood is laborious at all times, and it is especially
so in wet weather. Hence the savage finds it convenient to
keep a fire constantly burning or smouldering in order to
spare himself the troubling of kindling it. This convenience
becomes a necessity with people who do not know how to
make fire. That there have been such tribes down to our
own time is affirmed by witnesses whose evidence we have
no reason to doubt. Thus Mr. E. H. Man, who resided
eleven years in the Andaman Islands and was intimately
acquainted with the natives, tells us that, being ignorant of
|Some races said to be ignorant of the means of making fire.|
the art of making fire, they take the utmost pains to prevent
its extinction. When they leave a camp intending to
return in a few days, they not only take with them one or
more smouldering logs, wrapped in leaves if the weather be
wet, but they also place a large burning log or faggot of
suitable wood in some sheltered spot, where it smoulders for
several days and can be easily rekindled when it is needed.
While it is the business of the women to gather the wood,
the duty of keeping up the fires both at home and in
travelling by land or sea is not confined to them, but is
undertaken by persons of either sex who have most leisure
or are least burdened.[816] The Russian traveller, Baron
254Miklucho-Maclay, who lived among the natives of the
Maclay coast of northern New Guinea at a time when they
had hardly come into contact with Europeans, writes: “It
is remarkable that here almost all the inhabitants of the
coast possess no means whatever of making fire, hence they
always and everywhere carry burning or glowing brands
about with them. If they go in the morning to the
plantation they carry a half-burnt brand from their hearth
in order to kindle a fire at the corner of the plantation. If
they go on a longer journey into the mountains, they again
take fire with them for the purpose of smoking, since their
cigars, wrapped in green leaves, continually go out. On
sea voyages they usually keep glowing coals in a half-broken
pot partly filled with earth. The people who remain
behind in the village never forget to keep up the fire.”
They repeatedly told him that they had often to go to other
villages to fetch fire when the fires in all the huts of their
own village had chanced to go out. Yet the same traveller
tells us that the mountain tribes of this part of New Guinea,
such as the Englam-Mana and Tiengum-Mana, know how
to make fire by friction. They partially cleave a log of dry
wood with a stone axe and then draw a stout cord, formed
of a split creeper, rapidly to and fro in the cleft, till sparks
fly out and set fire to a tinder of dry coco-nut fibres.[817] It is
255odd that the people of the coast should not have learned
this mode of producing fire from their neighbours in the
mountains. The Russian explorer’s observations, however,
have been confirmed by German writers. One of them, a
Mr. Hoffmann, says of these people: “In every house care
is taken that fire burns day and night on the hearth. For
this purpose they choose a kind of wood which burns slowly,
but glimmers for a long time and retains its glow. When
a man sets out on a journey or goes to the field he has
always a glimmering brand with him. If he wishes to make
fire, he waves the smouldering wood to and fro till it bursts
into a glow.” On frequented paths, crossways, and so forth,
you may often see trunks of trees lying which have been
felled for the purpose of being ignited and furnishing fire to
passers-by. Such trees continue to smoulder for weeks.[818]
Similarly the dwarf tribes of Central Africa “do not know
how to kindle a fire quickly, and in order to get one readily
at any moment they keep the burning trunks of fallen trees
in suitable spots, and watch over their preservation like the
Vestals of old.”[819] It seems to be at least doubtful whether
these dwarfs of the vast and gloomy equatorial forests are
acquainted with the art of making fire at all. A German
traveller observes that the care which they take to preserve
fire is extremely remarkable. “It appears,” he says, “that
the pygmies, as other travellers have reported, do not know
how to kindle fire by rubbing sticks against each other.
Like the Wambuba of the forest, in leaving a camp, they take
with them a thick glowing brand, and carry it, often for hours,
in order to light a fire at their next halting place.”[820]
|Fire kindled by natural causes was probably used by men long
before they learned to make it for themselves.|
Whether or not tribes ignorant of the means of making
fire have survived to modern times, it seems likely that mankind
possessed and used fire long before they learned how to
256kindle it. In the violent thunderstorms which accompany
the end of the dry season in Central and Eastern Africa, it
is not uncommon for the lightning to strike and ignite a
tree, from which the fire soon spreads to the withered herbage,
till a great conflagration is started. From a source of
this sort a savage tribe may have first obtained fire, and the
same thing may have happened independently in many parts
of the world.[821] Other people, perhaps, procured fire from
volcanoes, the lava of which will, under favourable circumstances,
remain hot enough to kindle shavings of wood years
after an eruption has taken place.[822] Others again may have
lit their first fire at the jets of inflammable gas which spring
from the ground in various parts of the world, notably at
Baku on the Caspian, where the flames burn day and night,
summer and winter, to a height of fifteen or twenty feet.[823] It
is harder to conjecture how man first learned the great
secret of making fire by friction. The discovery was perhaps
made by jungle or forest races, who saw dry bamboos or
branches thus ignited by rubbing against each other in a
high wind. Fires are sometimes started in this way in the
forests of New Zealand.[824] It has also been suggested that
257savages may have accidentally elicited a flame for the first
time in the process of chipping flints over dry moss, or boring
holes with hard sticks in soft wood.[825]
|Many savages carry fire constantly with them as a matter of convenience.|
But even when the art of fire-making has been acquired,
the process itself is so laborious that many savages keep fire
always burning rather than be at the trouble of extracting it
by friction. This, for example, was true of the roving
Australian aborigines before they obtained matches from the
whites. On their wanderings they carried about with them
pieces of smouldering bark or cones of the Banksia tree
wherewith to kindle their camp fires.[826] The duty of thus
transporting fire from one place to another seems commonly
to have fallen to the women. “A stick, a piece of decayed
wood, or more often the beautiful seed-stem of the Banksia,
is lighted at the fire the woman is leaving; and from her
bag, which, in damp weather, she would keep filled with dry
cones, or from materials collected in the forest, she would
easily, during her journey, preserve the fire got at the last
encampment.”[827] Another writer tells us that the Australian
native always had his fire-stick with him, and if his wife let
it go out, so much the worse for her. The dark brown
velvety-looking core of the Banksia is very retentive of fire
and burns slowly, so that one of these little fire-sticks would
last a considerable time, and a bag of them would suffice for
a whole day.[828] The Tasmanians knew how to make fire
258by twirling the point of a stick in a piece of soft bark;
“but as it was difficult at times to obtain fire by this means,
especially in wet weather, they generally, in their peregrinations,
carried with them a fire-stick lighted at their last
encampment.”[829] With them, as with the Australians, it was
the special task of the women to keep the fire-brand alight
and to carry it from place to place.[830] When the natives of
Materbert, off New Britain, are on a voyage they carry fire
with them. For this purpose they press some of the soft
fibrous husk of the ripe coco-nut into a coco-nut shell, and
then place a red-hot ember in the middle of it. This will
smoulder for three or four days, and from it they obtain a
light for their fires wherever they may land.[831] The Polynesians
made fire by the friction of wood, rubbing a score in
a board with a sharp-pointed stick till the dust so produced
kindled into sparks, which were caught in a tinder of dry
leaves or grass. While they rubbed, they chanted a prayer
or hymn till the fire appeared. But in wet weather the task
of fire-making was laborious, so at such times the natives
usually carried fire about with them in order to avoid
the trouble of kindling it.[832] The Fuegians make fire by
striking two lumps of iron pyrites together and letting
the sparks fall on birds’ down or on dry moss, which
serves as tinder. But rather than be at the pains of doing
this they carry fire with them everywhere, both by sea and
land, taking great care to prevent its extinction.[833] The
Caingua Indians of Paraguay make fire in the usual way by
the fire-drill, but to save themselves trouble they keep fire
259constantly burning in their huts by means of great blocks of
wood.[834] The Indians of Guiana also produce fire by twirling
the point of one stick in the hole of another, but they
seldom need to resort to this laborious process, for they keep
fire burning in every house, and on long journeys they
usually carry a large piece of smouldering timber in their
canoes. Even in walking across the savannah an Indian
will sometimes take a fire-brand with him.[835] The Jaggas, a
Bantu tribe in the Kilimanjaro district of East Africa, keep
up fire day and night in their huts on account of their
cattle. If it goes out, the women fetch glowing brands
from a neighbour’s house; these they carry wrapped up in
banana leaves. Thus they convey fire for great distances,
sometimes the whole day long. Hence they seldom need
to kindle fire, though the men can make it readily by means
of the fire-drill.[836] The tribes of British Central Africa also
know how to produce fire in this fashion, but they do not
often put their knowledge in practice. For there is sure to
be a burning brand on one or other of the hearths of the
village from which a fire can be lit; and when men go on
a journey they take smouldering sticks with them and nurse
the glowing wood rather than be at the trouble of making
fire by friction.[837] In the huts of the Ibos on the lower Niger
burning embers are always kept and never allowed to go
out.[838] And this is the regular practice among all the tribes
of West Africa who have not yet obtained matches. If the
fire in a house should go out, a woman will run to a neighbour’s
hut and fetch a burning stick from the hearth. Hence
in most of their villages fire has probably not needed to be
made for years and years. Among domesticated tribes, like
the Effiks or Agalwa, when the men are going out to the
plantation they will enclose a burning stick in a hollow piece
of a certain kind of wood, which has a lining of its pith left
in it, and they will carry this “fire-box” with them.[839]
260|The theft of fire by Prometheus.|
Before the introduction of matches Greek peasants used
to convey fire from place to place in a stalk of giant fennel.
The stalks of the plant are about five feet long by three
inches thick, and are encased in a hard bark. The core of
the stalk consists of a white pith which, when it is dry,
burns slowly like a wick without injury to the bark.[840] Thus
when Prometheus, according to the legend, stole the first fire
from heaven and brought it down to earth hidden in a stalk
of giant fennel,[841] he carried his fire just as every Greek
peasant and mariner did on a journey.
|When people settled in villages, it would be convenient to keep up a perpetual
fire in the house of the head man.|
When a tribe ceased to be nomadic and had settled in
more or less permanent villages, it would be a convenient
custom to keep a fire perpetually burning in every house.
Such a custom, as we have seen, has been observed by
various peoples, and it appears to have prevailed universally
among all branches of the Aryans.[842] Arnobius implies that
it was formerly practised by the Romans, though in his own
time the usage had fallen into abeyance.[843] But it would be
obviously desirable that there should be some one place in
the village where every housewife could be sure of obtaining
fire without having to kindle it by friction, if her own should
chance to go out. The most natural spot to look for it
would be the hearth of the head man of the village, who
would come in time to be regarded as responsible for its
maintenance. This is what seems to have happened not
only among the Herero of South Africa and the Latin
peoples of Italy, but also among the ancestors of the
Greeks; for in ancient Greece the perpetual fire kept up in
the Prytaneum, or town-hall, was at first apparently the fire
261on the king’s hearth.[844] From this simple origin may have
sprung the custom which in various parts of the world
associates the maintenance of a perpetual fire with chiefly or
royal dignity. Thus it was a distinguishing mark of the
|Hence the maintenance of a perpetual fire came to be
associated with chiefly or royal dignity.|
chieftainship of one of the Samoan nobility, that his fire
never went out. His attendants had a particular name, from
their special business of keeping his fire ablaze all night long
while he slept.[845] Among the Gallas the maintenance of a
perpetual fire, even when it serves no practical purpose, is a
favourite mode of asserting high rank, and the chiefs often
indulge in it.[846] The Chitomé, a grand pontiff in the kingdom
of Congo, of whom we shall hear more hereafter, kept up in
his hut, day and night, a sacred fire, of which he dispensed
brands to such as came to ask for them and could pay for
them. He is said to have done a good business in fire, for
the infatuated people believed that it preserved them from
many accidents.[847] In Uganda a perpetual sacred fire, supposed
to have come down to earth with the first man Kintu,
is maintained by a chief, who is put to death if he suffers it
to be extinguished. From this sacred fire the king’s fire
(gombolola) is lighted and kept constantly burning at the
gate of the royal enclosure during the whole of his reign.
By day it burns in a small hut, but at night it is brought
out and set in a little hole in the ground, where it blazes
brightly till daybreak, whatever the weather may be. When
the king journeys the fire goes with him, and when he dies
it is extinguished. The death of a king is indeed announced
to the people by the words, “The fire has gone out.” A
man who bears a special title is charged with the duty of
maintaining the fire, and of looking after all the fuel and
torches used in the royal enclosure. When the king dies
the guardian of his fire is strangled near the hearth.[848]
Similarly in Dageou, a country to the west of Darfur, it is
262said that a custom prevailed of kindling a fire on the inauguration
of a king and keeping it alight till his death.[849]
Among the Mucelis of Angola, when the king of Amboin or
Sanga dies, all fires in the kingdom are extinguished. Afterwards
the new king makes new fire by rubbing two sticks
against each other.[850] Such a custom is probably nothing
more than an extension of the practice of putting out a
chief’s own fire at his death. Similarly, when a new Muata
Jamwo, a great potentate in the interior of Angola, comes
to the throne, one of his first duties is to make a new fire
by the friction of wood, for the old fire may not be used.[851]
Before the palace gate of the king of Siam there burns, or
used to burn, a perpetual fire, which was said to have been
lit from heaven with a fiery ball.[852]
|Perpetual fire maintained by the chief called the Great Sun
among the Natchez Indians.|
Among the Natchez Indians of the lower Mississippi a
perpetual fire, supposed to have been brought down from
the sun, was maintained in a square temple which stood
beside the hut of the supreme chief of the nation. He bore
the title of the Great Sun, and believed himself to be a
descendant or brother of the luminary his namesake. Every
morning when the sun rose he blew three whiffs of his pipe
towards it, and raising his hands above his head, and turning
from east to west, he marked out the course which the
bright orb was to pursue in the sky. The sacred fire in the
temple was fed with logs of walnut or oak, and the greatest
care was taken to prevent its extinction; for such an event
would have been thought to put the whole nation in jeopardy.
Eight men were appointed to guard the fire, two of whom
were bound to be always on watch; and the Great Sun
himself looked to the maintenance of the fire with anxious
attention. If any of the guardians of the fire failed to do
his duty, the rule was that he should be put to death.
When the great chief died his bones were deposited in the
temple, along with the bones of many attendants who were
strangled in order that their souls might wait upon him in
the spirit land. On such an occasion the chief’s fire was
263extinguished, and this was the signal for putting out all the
other fires in the country. Every village had also its own
temple in which a perpetual fire was maintained under the
guardianship of a subordinate chief. These lesser chiefs
also bore the title of Suns, but acknowledged the supremacy
of the head chief, the Great Sun. All of these Suns were supposed
to be descended from a man and woman who had come
down from the luminary from which they took their names.
There were female Suns as well as male Suns, but they might
not marry among themselves; they had always to mate with a
woman or a man of lower rank. Their nobility was transmitted
in the maternal line; that is, the children of a female Sun, both
sons and daughters, were Suns, but the children of a male
Sun were not. Hence a chief was never succeeded by his own
son, but always by the son either of his sister or of his nearest
female relation. The Natchez knew how to produce fire
by means of the fire-drill; but if the sacred fire in the temple
went out, they relit it, not by the friction of wood, but by a
brand brought from another temple or from a tree which had
been ignited by lightning.[853] In these customs of the Natchez
we have clearly fire-worship and sun-worship of the same
general type which meets us again at a higher state of evolution
among the Incas of Peru. Both sets of customs probably sprang
originally from the perpetual fire on the chief’s domestic hearth.
|Fire carried before chiefs and kings as a symbol of royalty.|
When a perpetual fire has thus become a symbol of
royalty, it is natural that it should be carried before the
king or chief on the march. Among the Indians of the
Mississippi a lighted torch used to be borne in front of a
chief, and no commoner would dare to walk between a chief
264and his torch-bearer.[854] A sacred fire, supposed to have
descended from heaven, was carried in a brazier before the
Persian kings,[855] and the custom was adopted as a badge of
imperial dignity by later Roman emperors.[856] The practice
appears to have been especially observed in time of war.
Amongst the Ovambo of South Africa the chief appoints a
general to lead the army to battle, and next to the general the
greatest officer is he who carries a fire-brand at the head of
the warriors. If the fire goes out on the march, it is an evil
omen and the army beats a retreat.[857] When the king of
Monomotapa, or Benomotapa, was at war, a sacred fire was
kept burning perpetually in a hut near his tent.[858] In old
days it is said that the king of Mombasa in East Africa
could put an army of eighty thousand men in the field. On
the march his guards were preceded by men carrying fire.[859]
High above the tent of Alexander the Great hung a fiery
cresset on a pole, and “the flame of it was seen by night,
and the smoke by day.”[860] When a Spartan king was about
to lead an army abroad he first sacrificed at home to Zeus
the Leader. Then a man called the fire-bearer took fire
from the altar and marched with it at the head of the troops
to the frontier. There the king again sacrificed to Zeus
and Athena, and if the omens were favourable, he crossed
the border, preceded by the fire from the sacrifices, which
thenceforth led the way and might not be quenched. To
perform such sacrifices the king always rose very early in
the morning, while it was still dark, in order to get the ear
of the god before the enemy could forestall him.[861]
|The custom of keeping up a perpetual fire during a king’s reign and extinguishing
it at his death, might lead to a belief that his life was bound up with the fire.|
A custom of maintaining a fire during a king’s reign and
extinguishing it at his death, even if it did not originate in a
265superstition, would naturally lend itself to a superstitious
interpretation. The distinction between the sign and the
cause of an event is not readily grasped by a dull mind;
hence the extinction of the king’s fire, from being merely a
signal of his death, might come in time to be regarded as a
cause of it. In other words, a vital connexion might be
supposed to exist between the king and the fire, so that if
the fire were put out the king would die. That a sympathetic
bond of some sort united the king’s life with the fire
on his hearth was apparently believed by the ancient
Scythians. For their most solemn oath was by the king’s
hearth, and if any man who had taken this oath forswore
himself, they believed that the king would fall ill.[862] The
story of Meleager,[863] whose life was said to be bound up with
a brand plucked from the fire on the hearth, belongs to the
same class of ideas, which will be examined at large in a
later part of this work. Wherever a superstition of this sort
gathered round the king’s hearth, it is obvious that he would
be moved to watch over the fire with redoubled vigilance.
On a certain day the Vestal Virgins at Rome used to go to
the King of the Sacred Rites, the successor of the old
Roman kings, and say to him, “Watchest thou, O King?
Watch.”[864] The ceremony may have been a reminiscence or
survival of a time when the king’s life as well as the general
safety was supposed to hang on the maintenance of the fire,
to the guardianship of which he would thus be impelled by the
motive of self-preservation as well as of public duty. When
natives of the Kei Islands in the East Indies are away on a
long voyage, a sacred fire is kept up the whole time of their
absence by their friends at home. Three or four young girls
are appointed to feed it and watch over it day and night with
a jealous care lest it should go out; its extinction would be
deemed a most evil omen, for the fire is the symbol of the life
of the absent ones.[865] This belief and this practice may help
us to understand the corresponding beliefs and practices
concerned with the maintenance of a perpetual fire at Rome.
CHAPTER XVIII THE SUCCESSION TO THE KINGDOM IN ANCIENT LATIUM
266
|The Vestal fire and the great priesthoods appear to have been
institutions common to the whole Latin race.|
Thus it appears that a variety of considerations combined
to uphold, if not to originate, the custom of maintaining
a perpetual fire. The sanctity of the wood which fed it,
the belief in the generative virtue of the process by which it
was kindled, the supposed efficacy of fire in repelling the
powers of evil, the association of the hearth with the spirits
of the dead and with the majesty or even the life of the king
all worked together to invest the simple old custom with a
halo of mystery and romance. If this was so at Rome we
may assume that matters were not very different in the other
Latin towns which kept up a Vestal fire. These too had
their kings of the Sacred Rites, their flamens, and their
pontiffs, as well as their Vestal Virgins.[866] All the great
priesthoods of Rome appear, in fact, to have had their
doubles in the other ancient cities of Latium; all were
probably primitive institutions common to the whole Latin
race.[867]
|Priestly or divine functions of the Roman kings, including
the maintenance of the Vestal fire.|
Accordingly, whatever is true or probable of the Roman
priesthoods, about which we know most, may reasonably be
regarded as true or probable of the corresponding priesthoods
elsewhere in Latium, about which for the most part
we know nothing more than the names. Now in regard to
the Roman king, whose priestly functions were inherited by
his successor the king of the Sacred Rites, the foregoing
discussion has led us to the following conclusions. He
267represented and indeed personated Jupiter, the great god
of the oak, the sky, and the thunder, and in that character
made rain, thunder, and lightning for the good of his subjects,
like many more kings of the weather in other parts of
the world. Further, he not only mimicked the oak-god by
wearing an oak wreath and other insignia of divinity, but he
was married to an oak-nymph Egeria, who appears to have
been merely a local form of Diana in her character of a
goddess of woods, of waters, and of childbirth. Moreover, he
was descended from the oak, since he was born of a virgin
who conceived by contact with a fire of sacred oak-wood.
Hence he had to guard the ancestral fire and keep it constantly
burning, inasmuch as on its maintenance depended
the continuance of the royal family. Only on certain stated
occasions was it lawful and even necessary to extinguish the
old fire in order to revive it in a purer and more vigorous
form by the friction of the sacred wood. This was done
once a year on the first of March,[868] and we may conjecture
that it was also done by the new king on his accession to
power; for, as we have seen, it has been customary in
|But the fire was formally extinguished and rekindled on certain
occasions, perhaps on the death of the king.|
various places to extinguish the king’s fire at his death.[869]
Among the ancient Persians the perpetual sacred fire was
put out on the death of a king and remained unlit until
after his funeral.[870] It is a common practice to extinguish
the fire in any house where a death has taken place,[871]268apparently from a fear that the ghost may scorch or singe
himself at it, like a moth at the flame of a candle; and the
custom of putting out the king’s fire at his decease may in
its origin have been nothing more than this. But when the
fire on the king’s hearth came to be viewed as bound up in
a mysterious fashion with his life, it would naturally be
extinguished at his death, not to spare his fluttering ghost
the risk and pain of falling into it, but because, as a sort of
life-token or external soul, it too must die at his death and
be born again from the holy tree. At all events, it seems
probable that whenever and from whatever cause it became
necessary to rekindle the royal and sacred fire by the friction
of wood, the operation was performed jointly by the king
and the Vestals, one or more of whom may have been his
daughters or the daughters of his predecessor. Regarded
as impersonations of Mother Vesta herself, these priestesses
would be the chosen vessels, not only to bring to birth the
seed of fire in working the fire-drill, but also to receive the
seed of the fire-god in their chaste wombs, and so to become
the mothers of fire-begotten kings.
|What is true of the Roman kings is probably true of the Latin kings in general.|
All these conclusions, which we have reached mainly by
a consideration of the Roman evidence, may with great
probability be applied to the other Latin communities.
They too probably had of old their divine or priestly kings,
who transmitted their religious functions, without their civil
powers, to their successors the kings of the Sacred Rites.
|What was the rule of succession to the Latin kingship?|
But we have still to ask, What was the rule of succession
to the kingdom among the old Latin tribes? We possess
two lists of Latin kings both professedly complete. One is
the list of the kings of Alba, the other is the list of the
269|The list of the Alban kings seems to imply that the kingship was
hereditary in the male line.|
kings of Rome. If we accept as authentic the list of the
Alban kings, we can only conclude that the kingdom was
hereditary in the male line, the son regularly succeeding his
father on the throne.[872] But this list, if it is not, as Niebuhr
held, a late and clumsy fabrication, has somewhat the appearance
of an elastic cord which ancient historians stretched in
order to link Aeneas to Romulus.[873] Yet it would be rash
to set these names wholly aside as a chronological stop-gap
deliberately foisted in by later annalists. In early
monarchies, before the invention of writing, tradition is
remarkably retentive of the names of kings. The Baganda
of Central Africa, for example, remember the names of more
than thirty of their kings in an unbroken chain of twenty-two
generations.[874] Even the occurrence of foreign names
among the Alban kings is not of itself sufficient to condemn
the list as a forgery; for, as I shall shew presently,
this feature is explicable by a rule of descent which appears
to have prevailed in many ancient monarchies, including that
of Rome. Perhaps the most we can say for the history of
the Alban kings is that their names may well be genuine,
and that some general features of the monarchy, together
with a few events which happened to strike the popular
imagination, may have survived in the memory of the
people till they found their way into written history. But
no dependence can be placed either on the alleged years of
their reigns, or on the hereditary principle which is assumed
to have connected each king with his predecessor.
When we come to the list of the Roman kings we are
on much firmer, though still slippery ground. According
270to tradition there were in all eight kings of Rome,[875] and
with regard to the five last of them, at all events, we can
hardly doubt that they actually sat on the throne, and that
the traditional history of their reigns is, in its main outlines,
correct.[876] Now it is very remarkable that though the first
king of Rome, Romulus, is said to have been descended
from the royal house of Alba, in which the kingship is
represented as hereditary in the male line, not one of the
|On the other hand none of the Roman kings was immediately succeeded
by his son, but three were succeeded by their sons-in-law, who were foreigners.|
Roman kings was immediately succeeded by his son on the
throne. Yet several left sons or grandsons behind them.[877]
On the other hand, one of them was descended from a
former king through his mother, not through his father,[878] and
three of the kings, namely Tatius, the elder Tarquin, and
Servius Tullius, were succeeded by their sons-in-law,[879] who
were all either foreigners or of foreign descent.[880] This
271|This suggests that the kingship was transmitted in the female line and
was held by foreigners who married the royal princesses.|
suggests that the right to the kingship was transmitted
in the female line, and was actually exercised by foreigners
who married the royal princesses. To put it in technical
language, the succession to the kingship at Rome and
probably in Latium generally would seem to have been
determined by certain rules which have moulded early society
in many parts of the world, namely exogamy, beena marriage,
and female kinship or mother-kin. Exogamy is the rule
which obliges a man to marry a woman of a different clan
from his own; beena marriage is the rule that he must leave
the home of his birth and live with his wife’s people;[881] and
female kinship or mother-kin is the system of tracing relationship
and transmitting the family name through women instead
of through men.[882] If these principles regulated descent of the
kingship among the ancient Latins, the state of things in
this respect would be somewhat as follows. The political
and religious centre of each community would be the
perpetual fire on the king’s hearth tended by Vestal Virgins
of the royal clan. The king would be a man of another
clan, perhaps of another town or even of another race, who
had married a daughter of his predecessor and received the
kingdom with her. The children whom he had by her
would inherit their mother’s name, not his; the daughters
would remain at home; the sons, when they grew up, would
go away into the world, marry, and settle in their wives’
country, whether as kings or commoners. Of the daughters
who stayed at home, some or all would be dedicated as
Vestal Virgins for a longer or shorter time to the service of
the fire on the hearth, and one of them would in time
become the consort of her father’s successor.
272|This hypothesis explains some obscure features in the traditional history of
the Latin kings, such as the stories of their miraculous birth.|
This hypothesis has the advantage of explaining in a
simple and natural way some obscure features in the
traditional history of the Latin kingship. Thus the legends
which tell how Latin kings were born of virgin mothers and
divine fathers become at least more intelligible. For,
stripped of their fabulous element, tales of this sort mean
no more than that a woman has been gotten with child by
a man unknown; and this uncertainty as to fatherhood is
more easily compatible with a system of kinship which
ignores paternity than with one which makes it all-important.
If at the birth of the Latin kings their fathers
were really unknown,[883] the fact points either to a general
looseness of life in the royal family or to a special relaxation
|The Latin kings perhaps begotten at a Saturnalia.|
of moral rules on certain occasions, when men and
women reverted for a season to the licence of an earlier age.
Such Saturnalias are not uncommon at some stages of social
evolution. In our own country traces of them long survived
in the practices of May Day and Whitsuntide, if not of
Christmas. Children born of the more or less promiscuous
intercourse which characterises festivals of this kind would
naturally be fathered on the god to whom the particular
festival was dedicated.
|The Roman festival of Midsummer was a kind of Saturnalia, and was
specially associated with the fire-born King Servius Tullius.|
In this connexion it may not be without significance
that a festival of jollity and drunkenness was celebrated by
the plebeians and slaves at Rome on Midsummer Day,
and that the festival was specially associated with the fire-born
King Servius Tullius, being held in honour of Fortuna,
the goddess who loved Servius as Egeria loved Numa.
The popular merrymakings at this season included foot-races
and boat-races; the Tiber was gay with flower-wreathed
boats, in which young folk sat quaffing wine.[884]
The festival appears to have been a sort of Midsummer
Saturnalia answering to the real Saturnalia which fell at
Midwinter. In modern Europe, as we shall learn later on,
the great Midsummer festival has been above all a festival
273of lovers and of fire; one of its principal features is the
pairing of sweethearts, who leap over the bonfires hand in
hand or throw flowers across the flames to each other.
And many omens of love and marriage are drawn from the
flowers which bloom at this mystic season.[885] It is the time
of the roses and of love. Yet the innocence and beauty of
such festivals in modern times ought not to blind us to the
likelihood that in earlier days they were marked by coarser
features, which were probably of the essence of the rites.
Indeed, among the rude Esthonian peasantry these features
seem to have lingered down to our own generation, if not to
the present day. One other feature in the Roman celebration
of Midsummer deserves to be specially noticed.
The custom of rowing in flower-decked boats on the river
on this day proves that it was to some extent a water
festival; and, as we shall learn later on, water has always,
down to modern times, played a conspicuous part in the
rites of Midsummer Day, which explains why the Church,
in throwing its cloak over the old heathen festival, chose to
dedicate it to St. John the Baptist.[886]
|But the uncertainty as to the paternity of the Roman kings may only mean
that in later times the names of their fathers were forgotten.|
The hypothesis that the Latin kings may have been
begotten at an annual festival of love is necessarily a mere
conjecture, though the traditional birth of Numa on the
festival of the Parilia, when shepherds leaped across the
spring bonfires,[887] as lovers leap across the Midsummer fires,
may perhaps be thought to lend it a faint colour of probability.
But it is quite possible that the uncertainty as to their
fathers may not have arisen till long after the death of the
kings, when their figures began to melt away into the
cloudland of fable, assuming fantastic shapes and gorgeous
colouring as they passed from earth to heaven. If they
were alien immigrants, strangers and pilgrims in the land
they ruled over, it would be natural enough that the people
should forget their lineage, and forgetting it should provide
them with another, which made up in lustre what it lacked
in truth. The final apotheosis, which represented the kings
as not merely sprung from gods but as themselves deities
274incarnate, would be much facilitated if in their lifetime, as
we have seen reason to think, they had actually laid claim
to divinity.
|Where descent is traced through women only, girls of the highest rank may
be married to men of humble birth, even to aliens and slaves.|
If among the Latins the women of royal blood always
stayed at home and received as their consorts men of another
stock, and often of another country, who reigned as kings
in virtue of their marriage with a native princess, we can
understand not only why foreigners wore the crown at Rome,
but also why foreign names occur in the list of the Alban
kings. In a state of society where nobility is reckoned only
through women—in other words, where descent through the
mother is everything, and descent through the father is
nothing—no objection will be felt to uniting girls of the
highest rank to men of humble birth, even to aliens or slaves,
provided that in themselves the men appear to be suitable
mates. What really matters is that the royal stock, on
which the prosperity and even the existence of the people is
supposed to depend, should be perpetuated in a vigorous
and efficient form, and for this purpose it is necessary that
the women of the royal family should bear children to
men who are physically and mentally fit, according to the
standard of early society, to discharge the important duty of
procreation. Thus the personal qualities of the kings at
this stage of social evolution are deemed of vital importance.
If they, like their consorts, are of royal and divine descent,
so much the better; but it is not essential that they should
be so.
|In Ashantee, where the kingdom descends through women, the rank
of the king’s father is not regarded.|
The hypothesis which we have been led to frame of the
rule of succession to the Latin kingship will be confirmed
by analogy if we can shew that elsewhere, under a
system of female kinship, the paternity of the kings is a
matter of indifference—nay, that men who are born slaves
may, like Servius Tullius, marry royal princesses and be
raised to the throne. Now this is true of the Tshi-speaking
peoples of the Gold Coast in West Africa. Thus
in Ashantee, where the kingdom descends in the female
line to the king’s brothers and afterwards to the sons of his
sister in preference to his own sons, the sisters of the reigning
monarch are free to marry or intrigue with whom they
please, provided only that their husband or lover be a very
275strong and handsome man, in order that the kings whom
he begets may be men of finer presence than their subjects.
It matters not how low may be the rank and position
of the king’s father. If the king’s sisters, however, have no
sons, the throne will pass to the king’s own son, and failing a
son, to the chief vassal or the chief slave. But in the Fantee
country the principal slave succeeds to the exclusion of the
son. So little regard is paid by these people to the lineage,
especially the paternal lineage, of their kings.[888] Yet Ashantee
has attained a barbaric civilisation as high perhaps as that
of any negro state, and probably not at all inferior to that
of the petty Latin kingdoms at the dawn of history.
|Traces of a similar state of things in Uganda.|
A trace of a similar state of things appears to survive in
Uganda, another great African monarchy. For there the
queen dowager and the queen sister are, or were, allowed
to have as many husbands as they choose, without going
through any marriage ceremony. “Of these two women it
is commonly said all Uganda is their husband; they appear
to be fond of change, only living with a man for a few days
and then inviting some one else to take his place.” We are
reminded of the legends of the lustful queen Semiramis, and
the likeness may be more than superficial. Yet these women
are not allowed, under pain of death, to bear children; hence
they practise abortion.[889] Both the licence and the prohibition
may be explained if we suppose that formerly the kingdom
descended, as it still does in Ashantee, first to the king’s
brothers and next to the sons of his sisters. For in that case
the next heirs to the throne would be the sons of the king’s
mother and of his sisters, and these women might accordingly
be allowed, as the king’s sisters still are allowed in
Ashantee, to mate with any handsome men who took their
fancy, in order that their offspring might be of regal part.
But when the line of descent was changed from the female
to the male line, in other words, when the kings were
276succeeded by their sons instead of by their brothers or their
sisters’ sons, then the king’s mother and his sisters would
be forbidden to bear children lest the descent of the
crown to the king’s own children should be endangered by
the existence of rivals who, according to the old law of the
kingdom, had a better right to the throne. We may surmise
that the practice of putting the king’s brothers to
death at the beginning of his reign, which survived till
Uganda passed under English protection,[890] was instituted at
the same time as the prohibition of child-bearing laid on the
king’s mother and sisters. The one custom got rid of existing
rivals; the other prevented them from being born. That
the kingship in Uganda was formerly transmitted in the
female line is strongly indicated by the rule that the kings
and the rest of the royal family take their totems from their
mothers, whereas all the other people of the country get
their totems from their fathers.[891]
|In Loango also, where the blood royal is traced in the female line, the princesses
are free to cohabit with whom they please, and their consorts are
practically their slaves.|
In Loango the blood royal is traced in the female line,
and here also the princesses are free to choose and divorce
their husbands at pleasure, and to cohabit at the same time
with other men. These husbands are nearly always plebeians,
for princes and princesses, who are very numerous and form
a ruling caste in the country, may not marry each other. The
lot of a prince consort is not a happy one, for he is rather the
slave and prisoner than the mate of his imperious princess.
In marrying her he engages never more to look at a woman
during the whole time he cohabits with his royal spouse.
When he goes out he is preceded by guards who drive away
all females from the road where he is to pass. If in spite of
these precautions he should by ill-luck cast his eyes on a
woman, the princess may have his head chopped off, and
commonly exercises, or used to exercise, the right. This
sort of libertinism, sustained by power, often carries the
princesses to the greatest excesses, and nothing is so much
277dreaded as their anger. No wonder that commoners in
general avoid the honour of a royal alliance. Only poor
and embarrassed men seek it as a protection against their
creditors and enemies. All the children of such a man by
such a wife are princes and princesses, and any one of the
princes may in time be chosen king; for in Loango the
crown is not hereditary but elective.[892] Thus it would seem
that the father of the King of Loango is nearly always a
plebeian, and often little better than a slave.
|Similar rights enjoyed by queens in Central Africa.|
Near the Chambezi river, which falls into Lake Bengweolo
in Central Africa, there is a small state governed by
a queen who belongs to the reigning family of Ubemba.
She bears the title of Mamfumer or Mother of Kings.
“The privileges attached to this dignity are numerous. The
most singular is that the queens may choose for themselves
their husband among the common people. The chosen
man becomes prince-consort without sharing in the administration
of affairs. He is bound to leave everything to
follow his royal and often but little accommodating spouse.
To shew that in these households the rights are inverted
and that a man may be changed into a woman, the queen
takes the title of Monsieur and her husband that of
Madame.”[893]
|Traces of female descent of the kingship in ancient Greece.|
At Athens, as at Rome, we find traces of succession
to the throne by marriage with a royal princess; for two
of the most ancient kings of Athens, namely Cecrops and
Amphictyon, are said to have married the daughters of
their predecessors.[894] This tradition is confirmed by the
evidence, which I shall adduce presently, that at Athens
male kinship was preceded by female kinship.
278|With this rule of descent of the kingship males rule over
different kingdoms in successive generations.|
Further, if I am right in supposing that in ancient
Latium the royal families kept their daughters at home and
sent forth their sons to marry princesses and reign among
their wives’ people, it will follow that the male descendants
would reign in successive generations over different kingdoms.
Now this seems to have happened both in ancient Greece
and in ancient Sweden; from which we may legitimately
infer that it was a custom practised by more than one
branch of the Aryan stock in Europe. Take, for instance,
the great house of Aeacus, the grandfather of Achilles and
Ajax. Aeacus himself reigned in Aegina, but his descendants,
as has been justly observed, “from the beginning went
forth to other lands.”[895] His son Telamon migrated to the
|Migrations of the male descendants of Aeacus.|
island of Salamis, married the king’s daughter, and reigned
over the country.[896] Telamon’s son Teucer, in his turn,
migrated to Cyprus, wedded the king’s daughter, and succeeded
his father-in-law on the throne.[897] Again, Peleus,
another son of Aeacus, quitted his native land and went
away to Phthia in Thessaly, where he received the hand of
the king’s daughter, and with her a third of the kingdom.[898]
Of Achilles, the son of Peleus, we are told that in his youth
he was sent to the court of Lycomedes, King of Scyros,
where he got one of the princesses with child.[899] The tradition
seems to shew that Achilles followed the custom of his
family in seeking his fortune in a foreign land. His son
Neoptolemus, after him, went away to Epirus, where he
settled and became the ancestor of the kings of the country.[900]
|Migrations of the male descendants of Tydeus and Pelops.|
Again, Tydeus was a son of Oeneus, the King of
Calydon in Aetolia, but he went to Argos and married the
king’s daughter.[901] His son Diomede migrated to Daunia in
Italy, where he helped the king in a war with his enemies,
receiving as his reward the king’s daughter in marriage and
279part of the kingdom.[902] As another example we may take
the family of the Pelopidae, whose tragic fortunes the Greek
poets never wearied of celebrating. Their ancestor was
Tantalus, King of Sipylus in Asia Minor. But his son
Pelops passed into Greece, won Hippodamia, the daughter
of the King of Pisa, in the famous chariot-race, and succeeded
his father-in-law on the throne.[903] His son Atreus
did not remain in Pisa, but migrated to Mycenae, of which
he became king;[904] and in the next generation Menelaus,
son of Atreus, went to Sparta, where he married Helen, the
king’s daughter, and himself reigned over the country.[905]
Further, it is very notable that, according to the old lyric
poets, Agamemnon himself, the elder brother of Menelaus,
reigned not at Mycenae but in Lacedaemon, the native land
of his wife Clytaemnestra, and that he was buried at
Amyclae, the ancient capital of the country.[906]
|These migrations not understood in later times.|
Various reasons are assigned by ancient Greek writers
for these migrations of the princes. A common one is that
the king’s son had been banished for murder. This would
explain very well why he fled his own land, but it is no
reason at all why he should become king of another. We
may suspect that such reasons are afterthoughts devised by
writers who, accustomed to the rule that a son should
succeed to his father’s property and kingdom, were hard put
to it to account for so many traditions of kings’ sons who
quitted the land of their birth to reign over a foreign
kingdom.
|Traces of similar migrations in Scandinavian tradition.|
In Scandinavian tradition we meet with traces of similar
customs. For we read of daughters’ husbands who received
a share of the kingdoms of their royal fathers-in-law, even
when these fathers-in-law had sons of their own; in particular,
during the five generations which preceded Harold
the Fair-haired, male members of the Ynglingar family,
which is said to have come from Sweden, are reported in
280the Heimskringla or Sagas of the Norwegian Kings to have
obtained at least six provinces in Norway by marriage with
the daughters of the local kings.[907]
|A reminiscence of the transmission of the kingship through women is
preserved in popular tales.|
Thus it would seem that among some Aryan peoples,
at a certain stage of their social evolution, it has been
customary to regard women and not men as the channels in
which royal blood flows, and to bestow the kingdom in each
successive generation on a man of another family, and often
of another country, who marries one of the princesses and
reigns over his wife’s people. A common type of popular
tale, which relates how an adventurer, coming to a strange
land, wins the hand of the king’s daughter and with her the
half or the whole of the kingdom, may well be a reminiscence
of a real custom.[908]
|Where such customs prevail, the kingship is an appanage
of marriage with a princess.|
Where usages and ideas of this sort prevail, it is obvious
that the kingship is merely an appanage of marriage with a
woman of the blood royal. The old Danish historian Saxo
Grammaticus puts this view of the kingship very clearly in
281the mouth of Hermutrude, a legendary queen of Scotland,
and her statement is all the more significant because, as we
shall see presently, it reflects the actual practice of the Pictish
kings. “Indeed she was a queen,” says Hermutrude, “and
but that her sex gainsaid it, might be deemed a king; nay
(and this is yet truer), whomsoever she thought worthy of
her bed was at once a king, and she yielded her kingdom
with herself. Thus her sceptre and her hand went together.”[909]
Wherever a custom of this sort is observed, a man may clearly
acquire the kingdom just as well by marrying the widow as
the daughter of his predecessor. This is what Aegisthus
did at Mycenae, and what Hamlet’s uncle Feng and Hamlet’s
successor Wiglet did in Denmark; all three slew their predecessors,
married their widows, and then sat peacefully on
the throne.[910] The tame submission of the people to their
rule would be intelligible, if they regarded the assassins, in
spite of their crime, as the lawful occupants of the throne
by reason of their marriage with the widowed queens.
Similarly, Gyges murdered Candaules, King of Lydia,
|The Lydian kingship apparently transmitted through women.|
married his queen, and reigned over the country.[911] Nor was
this the only instance of such a succession in the history of
Lydia. The wife of King Cadys conspired against his life
with her paramour Spermus, and though her husband
recovered from the dose of poison which she administered
to him, he died soon afterwards, and the adulterer married
his leman and succeeded to the throne.[912] These cases excite
a suspicion that in the royal house of Lydia descent was
traced in the female line, and the suspicion is strengthened
by the legendary character of Omphale, the ancestress of
the dynasty. For she is represented as a masculine but
dissolute queen of the Semiramis type, who wore male
attire and put all her favoured lovers to death, while on the
other hand her consort Hercules was her purchased slave,
282was treated with indignity, and went about dressed as
a woman.[913] This plainly implies that the queen was
a far more powerful and important personage than the
king, as would naturally happen wherever it is the
queen who confers royalty on her consort at marriage
instead of receiving it from him. The story that she
prostituted the daughters of the Lydians to their male slaves[914]
is of a piece with the tradition that she herself married
her slave Hercules. It may mean little more than that
the Lydians were indifferent to paternity, and that the
children of freewomen by slaves ranked as free. Such an
indifference to fatherhood, coupled with the ancient accounts
of the loose morals of the Lydian girls, who were accustomed
to earn a dowry by prostitution,[915] is a mark of the system
of female kinship. Hence we may conjecture that
Herodotus was wrong in saying that from Hercules to
Candaules the crown of Lydia had descended for twenty-two
generations from father to son.[916] The old mode of
transmitting the crown of Lydia through women probably
did not end with Candaules. At least we are told that his
murderer and successor Gyges, like Hercules, the mythical
founder of the dynasty, gave himself and his kingdom into
the hands of the woman he loved, and that when she died
he collected all the slaves from the country round about and
raised in her memory a mound so lofty that it could be
seen from every part of the Lydian plain, and for centuries
after was known as the Harlot’s Tomb.[917]
|Marriage of Canute with the widow of his predecessor.|
When Canute the Dane had been acknowledged King of
England, he married Emma, the widow of his predecessor
Ethelred, whose throne he had overturned and whose
children he had driven into exile. The marriage has not
unnaturally puzzled the historians, for Emma was much
283older than her second husband, she was then living in
Normandy, and it is very doubtful whether Canute had
ever seen her before she became his bride. All, however,
becomes plain if, as the cases of Feng and Wiglet seem
to shew, it was an old Danish custom that marriage with
a king’s widow carried the kingdom with it as a matter
of right. In that case the young but prudent Canute
married the mature widow merely out of policy in order to
clinch, according to Danish notions, by a legal measure his
claim to that crown which he had already won for himself
by the sword.[918] Among the Saxons and their near kinsmen
the Varini it appears to have been a regular custom for the
new king to marry his stepmother. Thus Hermegisclus,
King of the Varini, on his deathbed enjoined his son Radigis
to wed his stepmother in accordance with their ancestral
practice, and his injunction was obeyed.[919] Edbald, King of
Kent, married his stepmother after the death of his father
Ethelbert;[920] and as late as the ninth century Ethelbald,
King of the West Saxons, wedded Judith, the widow of
his father Ethelwulf.[921] Such marriages are intelligible
if we suppose that old Saxon as well as old Danish law
gave the kingdom to him who married the late king’s
widow.
|Traces of the system of female kinship among the Aryans.|
To the view that the right to the Latin kingship was
derived from women and not from men, it may be objected
that the system of female kinship or mother-kin is unknown
among the Aryans,[922] and that even if faint traces of it may
be met with elsewhere, the last place in the world where we
should look for it would be Rome, the stronghold of the
patriarchal family. To meet this objection it is necessary
to point to some facts which appear to be undoubted
284survivals among Aryan peoples of a custom of tracing
descent through the mother only.
|Female kinship among the Athenians, the Epizephyrian Locrians,
the Cantabrians, and the Germans.|
In Attica tradition ran that of old the women were the
common property of the men, who coupled with them like
beasts, so that while every one knew his mother, nobody
knew who his father was. This system of sexual communism
was abolished by Cecrops, the first King of Athens,
who introduced individual marriage in its place.[923] Little
weight could be attached to this tradition, if it were not
supported to a certain extent by the Attic usage which
always allowed a man to marry his half-sister by the same
father but not his half-sister by the same mother.[924] Such a
rule seems clearly to be a relic of a time when kinship was
counted only through women. Again, the Epizephyrian
Locrians in Italy traced all ancestral distinction in the
female, not the male line. Among them the nobles were
the members of the hundred houses from whom were chosen
by lot the maidens to be sent to Troy.[925] For in order, it is
said, to expiate the sacrilege committed by the Locrian Ajax
when he violated Cassandra in the sanctuary of Athena at
Troy, the cities of Locris used annually to send to the
Trojan goddess two maidens, whom the Trojans slew, and,
burning their bodies on the wood of certain trees which bore
no fruit, threw the ashes into the sea. If the maidens contrived
to escape they took refuge in the sanctuary of Athena,
which they thenceforth swept and washed, never quitting it
except at night, and always going barefoot, shorn, and clad
in a single garment. The custom is said to have been
observed for a thousand years down to the fourth century
before our era.[926] Among the Locrians, as elsewhere, the
285system of female kinship would seem to have gone hand in
hand with dissolute morals; for there is reason to think
that of old the Locrians, like the Lydians and Armenians,
had been wont to prostitute their daughters before marriage,
though in later times the custom fell into abeyance.[927] The
Cantabrians of Spain seem also to have had mother-kin;
for among them it was the daughters who inherited property
and who portioned out their brothers in marriage.[928] Again,
the ancient Germans deemed the tie between a man and his
sister’s children as close as that between a father and his
children; indeed some regarded the bond as even closer and
more sacred, and therefore in exacting hostages they chose
the children of a man’s sister rather than his own children,
believing that this gave them a firmer hold on the family.[929]
The superiority thus assigned to the maternal uncle over the
father is an infallible mark of mother-kin, either present
or past, as may be observed, for instance, in very many
African tribes to this day, among whom both property and
political power pass, not from father to son, but from the
maternal uncle to his nephews.[930] Similarly, in Melanesia
the close relation of the mother’s brother to his nephew is
maintained even where the system of relationship has become
patriarchal.[931] Amongst the Germans in the time of Tacitus,
it is true, a man’s heirs were his own children,[932] but the
mother’s brother could never have attained the position he
held except under a system of maternal descent. Another
vestige of mother-kin among a Teutonic people appears
to be found in the Salic law. For it was a custom with the
Salian Franks that when a widow married again, a price
had to be paid to her family, and in laying down the order
in which her kinsmen were entitled to receive this payment
286the law gave a decided preference to the female over the
male line; thus the first person entitled to claim the money
was the eldest son of the widow’s sister.[933]
|Among the Picts the kingship was transmitted through women.|
It is a moot point whether the Picts of Scotland belonged
to the Aryan family or not;[934] but among them the
kingdom was certainly transmitted through women. Bede
tells us that down to his own time, in the early part of the
eighth century, whenever a doubt arose as to the succession,
the Picts chose their king from the female rather than the
male line.[935] The statement is amply confirmed by historical
evidence. For we possess a list of the Pictish kings and
their fathers which was drawn up in the reign of Cenaed,
King of the Scots, towards the end of the tenth century;
and for the period from the year 583 to the year 840 the
register is authenticated by the Irish Annals of Tigernach
and Ulster. Now, it is significant that in this list the fathers
of the kings are never themselves kings; in other words, no
king was succeeded on the throne by his son. Further, if
we may judge by their names, the fathers of the Pictish
kings were not Picts but foreigners—men of Irish, Cymric,
or English race. The inference from these facts seems to be
that among the Picts the royal family was exogamous, and
that the crown descended in the female line; in other words,
that the princesses married men of another clan or even of
another race, and that their issue by these strangers sat on
the throne, whether they succeeded in a prescribed order
according to birth, or whether they were elected from among
the sons of princesses, as the words of Bede might be taken
to imply.[936]
|Female kinship among the Etruscans.|
Another European, though apparently not Aryan,
287people among whom the system of female kinship appears
to have prevailed were the Etruscans. For in Etruscan
sepulchral inscriptions the name of the mother of the
deceased is regularly recorded along with or even without
the name of the father; and where the names of both
father and mother are mentioned, greater prominence is
given to the mother’s name by writing it in full, whereas
the father’s name is, in accordance with Roman usage, merely
indicated by an initial.[937] The statement of Theopompus that
among the Etruscans sexual communism was a recognised
practice, and that paternity was unknown,[938] may be only an
exaggerated way of saying that they traced their descent
through their mothers and not through their fathers. Yet
apparently in Etruria, as elsewhere, this system of relationship
was combined with a real indifference to fatherhood and
with the dissolute morals which that indifference implies; for
Etruscan girls were wont to earn a dowry by prostitution.[939]
In these customs the Etruscans resembled the Lydians, and
the similarity confirms the common opinion of antiquity, which
modern historians have too lightly set aside, that the Etruscans
were of Lydian origin.[940] However that may be, in considering
the vestiges of mother-kin among the Latins, we
shall do well to bear in mind that the same archaic mode of
tracing descent appears to have prevailed among the neighbouring
Etruscans, who not only exercised a powerful influence
on Rome, but gave her two, if not three, of her kings.[941]
288|Mother-kin may survive in the royal family after it has been exchanged
for father-kin in all others.|
It would be neither unnatural nor surprising if among
the ancient Latins mother-kin survived in the royal family
after it had been exchanged for father-kin in all others.
For royalty, like religion, is essentially conservative; it
clings to old forms and old customs which have long
vanished from ordinary life. Thus in Uganda persons of
royal blood still inherit their totems from their mothers,
while other people inherit them from their fathers. So in
Denmark and Scandinavia, as we have seen, the kingdom
would appear to have been transmitted through women long
after the family name and property had become hereditary
in the male line among the people. Sometimes the difference
in custom between kings and commoners is probably
based rather on a distinction of race than on varying degrees
of social progress; for a dynasty is often a family of alien
origin who have imposed their rule on their subjects by force
of arms, as the Normans did on the Saxons, and the
Manchus on the Chinese. More rarely, perhaps, it may
have happened that from motives of policy or superstition a
|Sometimes a conquering race may have left a nominal kingship
to members of the old royal house.|
conquering tribe has left a nominal kingship to the members
of the old royal house. Such a concession would be most
likely to be made where the functions of the king were rather
religious than civil, and where the prosperity of the country
was supposed to depend on the maintenance of the established
relations between the people and the gods of the land.
In that case the new-comers, knowing not how to appease
and conciliate these strange deities, might be glad to let the
priestly kings of the conquered race perform the quaint rites
and mumble the venerable spells, which had been found to
answer their purpose time out of mind.[942] In a commonwealth
289like the Roman, formed by the union of different
stocks, the royal family might thus belong either to the conquerors
or to the conquered; in other words, either to the
|This perhaps happened at Rome, where many of the kings seem to have been plebeians.|
patricians or to the plebeians. But if we leave out of
account Romulus and Tatius, who are more or less legendary
figures, and the two Tarquins, who came of a noble Etruscan
house, all the other Roman kings appear from their names
to have been men of plebeian, not patrician, families.[943] Hence
it seems probable that they belonged to the indigenous race,
who may have retained mother-kin, at least in the royal
succession, after they had submitted to invaders who knew
father-kin only.
|The abolition of the monarchy at Rome may have been a revolution whereby the patricians
wrested the shadow of sovereignty from the plebeians and transferred it to themselves,
who already wielded the substance.|
If that was so, it confirms the view that the old Roman
kingship was essentially a religious office; for the conquerors
would be much more ready to leave an office of this
sort in the hands of the conquered than a kingship of the
type with which we are familiar. “Let these puppets,” they
might think, “render to the gods their dues, while we rule
the people in peace and lead them in war.” Of such priestly
kings Numa was the type. But not all of his successors
were willing to model themselves on his saintly figure and,
rejecting the pomps and vanities of earth, to devote
themselves to communion with heaven. Some were men of
strong will and warlike temper, who could not brook the
dull routine of the cloister. They longed to exchange the
stillness and gloom of the temple or the sacred grove for the
sunshine, the dust, and the tumult of the battlefield. Such
men broke bounds, and when they threatened to get completely
out of hand and turn the tables on the patricians, it
was time that they should go. This, we may conjecture,
was the real meaning of the abolition of the kingship at
Rome. It put an end to the solemn pretence that the state
was still ruled by the ancient owners of the soil: it took the
shadow of power from them and gave it to those who had
long possessed the substance. The ghost of the monarchy
had begun to walk and grow troublesome: the revolution
laid it for centuries.
290|At first the intention seems to have been to leave the annual
kingship or consulship to the old royal family.|
But though the effect of the revolution was to substitute
the real rule of the patricians for the nominal rule of the
plebeians, the break with the past was at the outset less
complete than it seems. For the first two consuls were
both men of the royal blood. One of them, L. Junius
Brutus, was sister’s son of the expelled King Tarquin the
Proud.[944] As such he would have been the heir to the throne
under a strict system of mother-kin. The other consul,
L. Tarquinius Collatinus, was a son of the late king’s cousin
Egerius.[945] These facts suggest that the first intention of the
revolutionaries was neither to abolish the kingship nor to
wrest it from the royal family, but, merely retaining the
hereditary monarchy, to restrict its powers. To achieve this
object they limited the tenure of office to a year and doubled
the number of the kings, who might thus be expected to
check and balance each other. But it is not impossible
that both restrictions were merely the revival of old rules which
the growing power of the kings had contrived for a time to
set aside in practice. The legends of Romulus and Remus,
and afterwards of Romulus and Tatius, may be real reminiscences
of a double kingship like that of Sparta;[946] and in
the yearly ceremony of the Regifugium or Flight of the
King we seem to detect a trace of an annual, not a life-long,
tenure of office.[947] The same thing may perhaps be
true of the parallel change which took place at Athens when
the people deprived the Medontids of their regal powers and
reduced them from kings to responsible magistrates, who
held office at first for life, but afterwards only for periods
of ten years.[948] Here, too, the limitation of the tenure of
the kingship may have been merely the reinforcement of
an old custom which had fallen into abeyance. At Rome,
however, the attempt to maintain the hereditary principle,
if it was made at all, was almost immediately abandoned,
and the patricians openly transferred to themselves the
291double kingship, which thenceforth was purely elective, and
was afterwards known as the consulship.[949]
|The abolition of the monarchy at Rome seems to have been hastened by an
attempt of the last king to shift the succession from the female to
the male line.|
The history of the last king of Rome, Tarquin the
Proud, leads us to suspect that the offence which he gave
by his ambitious and domineering character was heightened
by an attempt to shift the succession of the kingship from
the female to the male line. He himself united both rights
in his own person; for he had married the daughter of his
predecessor, Servius Tullius, and he was the son or grandson
of Tarquin the Elder,[950] who preceded Servius Tullius on
the throne. But in asserting his right to the crown, if we
can trust Roman history on this point, Tarquin the Proud
entirely ignored his claim to it through women as the
son-in-law of his predecessor, and insisted only on his claim
in the male line as the son or grandson of a former king.[951]
And he evidently intended to bequeath the kingdom to one
of his sons; for he put out of the way two of the men
who, if the succession had been through women in the
way I have indicated, would have been entitled to sit
on the throne before his own sons, and even before
himself. One of these was his sister’s husband, the
other was her elder son. Her younger son, the famous
Lucius Junius Brutus, only escaped the fate of his father
and elder brother by feigning, like Hamlet, imbecility, and
thus deluding his wicked uncle into the belief that he had
nothing to fear from such a simpleton.[952] This design of
292Tarquin to alter the line of succession from the female to the
male side of the house may have been the last drop which filled
his cup of high-handed tyranny to overflowing. At least it is a
strange coincidence, if it is nothing more, that he was deposed by
the man who, under a system of female kinship, was the rightful
heir, and who in a sense actually sat on the throne from
which he pushed his uncle. For the curule chair of the consul
was little less than the king’s throne under a limited tenure.
|The hereditary principle does not necessarily exclude the elective in the succession
to a monarchy; many African chieftainships or kingships are both
hereditary and elective.|
It has often been asked whether the Roman monarchy
was hereditary or elective. The question implies an opposition
between the two modes of succession which by no
means necessarily exists. As a matter of fact, in many
African tribes at the present day the succession to the
kingdom or the chieftainship is determined by a combination
of the hereditary and the elective principle, that
is, the kings or chiefs are chosen by the people or by a
body of electors from among the members of the royal
family. And as the chiefs have commonly several wives
and many children by them, the number of possible
candidates may be not inconsiderable. For example, we
are told that “the government of the Banyai is rather
peculiar, being a sort of feudal republicanism. The chief
is elected, and they choose the son of the deceased chief’s
sister in preference to his own offspring. When dissatisfied
with one candidate, they even go to a distant tribe for a
successor, who is usually of the family of the late chief, a
brother, or a sister’s son, but never his own son or daughter.
When first spoken to on the subject, he answers as if he
thought himself unequal to the task and unworthy of the
honour, but, having accepted it, all the wives, goods, and
children of his predecessor belong to him, and he takes care
to keep them in a dependent position.” Among these
people “the children of the chief have fewer privileges than
common free men. They may not be sold, but, rather than
choose any one of them for a chief at any future time, the
free men would prefer to elect one of themselves who bore
only a very distant relationship to the family.”[953]
293|Chiefs and kings in Africa elected from several
families in rotation.|
Sometimes the field of choice is extended still further
by a rule that the chief may or must be chosen from one
of several families in a certain order. Thus among the
Bangalas of the Cassange Valley in Angola the chief is
elected from three families in rotation.[954] And Diagara, a
country bordering on Senegambia, is ruled by an absolute
monarch who is chosen alternately from two families, one
of which lives in Diapina and the other in Badumar.[955]
In the Winamwanga tribe, to the south of Lake Tanganyika,
“the first male child born to a chief after he succeeds
to the chieftainship is the natural heir, but many years
ago there were two claimants to the throne, whose supporters
were about equal, and to avoid a civil war the
following arrangement was made. One of them was
allowed to reign, but the other claimant or his son was to
succeed him. This was carried out, so that now there are
continually alternate dynasties.”[956] So in the Matse tribe
of Togoland in West Africa, there are two royal families
descended from two women, which supply a king alternately.
Hence the palm forest which belongs to the crown is
divided into two parts; the reigning king has the right to
one part, and the representative of the other royal house has
a right to the other part.[957] Among the Yorubas in western
Africa the sovereign chief is always taken from one or more
families which have the hereditary right of furnishing the
community with rulers. In many cases the succession
passes regularly from one to a second family alternately;
but in one instance, apparently unique, the right of
succession to the sovereignty seems to be possessed by
four princely families, from each of which the head chief is
elected in rotation. The principle of primogeniture is not
necessarily followed in the election, but the choice of the
electors must always fall on one who is related to a former
chief in the male line. For paternal descent alone is
294recognised in Yorubaland, where even the greatest chief may
take to wife a woman of the lowest rank. Sometimes the
choice of the ruling chief is made by divine authority, intimated
to the people through the high priest of the principal
god of the district.[958] Among the Igaras, on the lower
Niger, the royal family is divided into four branches, each
of which provides a king in turn. The capital and its
district, both of which bear the name of Idah, are always
occupied by the reigning branch of the royal family, while
the three other branches, not being allowed to live there,
retreat into the interior. Hence at the death of a king a
double change takes place. On the one hand the late
reigning family, with all their dependants, have to leave the
homes in which many of them have been born and brought
up, and to migrate to towns in the forest, which they know
only by name. On the other hand, the new reigning
family come into the capital, and their people settle in the
houses occupied by their forefathers four reigns ago. The
king is generally elected by the leading men of his branch
of the royal family; they choose the richest and most
powerful of their number.[959]
|Among the Khasis of Assam, also, the succession to the kingdom
is partly hereditary and partly elective.|
Again, among the Khasis of Assam we meet with the
same combination of the hereditary with the elective principle
in the succession to the kingdom. Indeed, in this
people the kingship presents several features of resemblance
to the old Latin kingship as it appears to have existed at
the dawn of history. For a Khasi king is the religious as
well as the secular head of the state; along with the sooth-sayers
he consults the auspices for the public good, and
sometimes he has priestly duties to perform. Succession to
the kingship always runs in the female line, for the Khasis
have a regular system of mother-kin as opposed to father-kin;
hence it is not the king’s sons, but his uterine brothers
and the sons of his uterine sisters who succeed him on the
295throne in order of birth. But this hereditary principle is
controlled by a body of electors, who have the right of
rejecting unsuitable claimants to the throne. Generally the
electors are a small body composed of the heads of certain
priestly clans; but in some Khasi states the number of
the electors has been greatly increased by the inclusion of
representative headmen of certain important lay clans, or
even by the inclusion of village headmen or of the chief
superintendents of the village markets. Nay, in the Langrim
state all the adult males regularly vote at the election of a
monarch; and here the royal family is divided into two
branches, a Black and a White, from either of which, apparently,
the electors are free to choose a king. Similarly, in
the Nobosohpoh state there are two royal houses, a Black
and a White, and the people may select the heir to the
throne from either of them.[960]
|Thus the Roman monarchy may have combined the hereditary with the elective principle.|
Thus the mere circumstance that all the Roman kings,
with the exception of the two Tarquins, appear to have
belonged to different families, is not of itself conclusive
against the view that heredity was one of the elements
which determined the succession. The number of families
from whom the king might be elected may have been
large. And even if, as is possible, the electors were free
to chose a king without any regard to his birth, the
hereditary principle would still be maintained if, as we have
seen reason to conjecture, it was essential that the chosen
candidate should marry a woman of the royal house, who
would generally be either the daughter or the widow of his
predecessor. In this way the apparently disparate principles
of unfettered election and strict heredity would be
combined; the marriage of the elected king with the
hereditary princess would furnish the link between the two.
Under such a system, to put it otherwise, the kings are
elective and the queens hereditary. This is just the converse
of what happens under a system of male kinship, where
the kings are hereditary and the queens elective.
In the later times of Rome it was held that the custom
had been for the people to elect the kings and for the senate
296to ratify the election.[961] But we may suspect, with Mommsen,
that this was no more than an inference from the mode of
electing the consuls. The magistrates who, under the
republic, represented the kings most closely were the dictator
and the King of the Sacred Rites, and neither of these was
elected by the people. Both were nominated, the dictator
by the consul, and the King of the Sacred Rites by the
chief pontiff.[962] Accordingly it seems probable that under
|The king was probably nominated either by his predecessor
or by an interim king.|
the monarchy the king was nominated either by his predecessor
or, failing that, by an interim king (interrex) chosen
from the senate.[963] Now if, as we have been led to think, an
essential claim to the throne was constituted by marriage
with a princess of the royal house, nothing could be more
natural than that the king should choose his successor, who
would commonly be also his son-in-law. If he had several
sons-in-law and had omitted to designate the one who
was to reign after him, the election would be made by his
substitute, the interim king.
|Personal qualities which commended a man for marriage with a
princess and succession to the throne.|
The personal qualities which recommended a man
for a royal alliance and succession to the throne would
naturally vary according to the popular ideas of the time
and the character of the king or his substitute, but it is
reasonable to suppose that among them in early society
physical strength and beauty would hold a prominent place.[964]
We have seen that in Ashantee the husbands or paramours
of the princesses must always be men of fine presence,
because they are to be the fathers of future kings. Among
the Ethiopians in antiquity, as among the Ashantees and
many other African tribes to this day, the crown passed in
the female line to the son of the king’s sister, but if there
297was no such heir they chose the handsomest and most valiant
man to reign over them.[965] We are told that the Gordioi
|Fat kings.|
elected the fattest man to the kingship,[966] nor is this incredible
when we remember that in Africa corpulence is still regarded
as a great distinction and beauty, and that both the chiefs
and their wives are sometimes so fat that they can hardly
walk. Thus among the Caffres chiefs and rich men attain
to an enormous bulk, and the queens fatten themselves on
beef and porridge, of which they partake freely in the
intervals of slumber. To be fat is with them a mark of
riches, and therefore of high rank; common folk cannot
afford to eat and drink and lounge as much as they would
like to do.[967] The Syrakoi in antiquity are reported to have
bestowed the crown on the tallest man or on the man with
|Long-headed kings and chiefs.|
the longest head in the literal, not the figurative, sense of
the word.[968] They seem to have been a Sarmatian people
to the north of the Caucasus,[969] and are probably the same
with the long-headed people described by Hippocrates,
who says that among them the men with the longest heads
were esteemed the noblest, and that they applied bandages
and other instruments to the heads of their children in
infancy for the sake of moulding them into the shape which
they admired.[970] Such reports are probably by no means
fabulous, for among the Monbuttu or Mang-bettou of Central
Africa down to this day “when the children of chiefs are
young, string is wound round their heads, which are
gradually compressed into a shape that will allow of the
longest head-dress. The skull thus treated in childhood
takes the appearance of an elongated egg.”[971] Similarly
298|Heads artificially moulded as a mark of high rank.|
some of the Indian tribes on the north-west coast of
America artificially mould the heads of their children
into the shape of a wedge or a sugar-loaf by compressing
them between boards; some of them regard such
heads as a personal beauty, others as a mark of high birth.[972]
For instance, “the practice among some of the Salish
seems to have had a definite social, as well as aesthetic,
significance. There appear to have been recognised degrees
of contortion marking the social status of the individual.
For example slaves, of which the Salish kept considerable
numbers, were prohibited from deforming the heads of their
children at all, consequently a normal, undeformed head
was the sign and badge of servitude. And in the case of
the base-born of the tribes the heads of their children were
customarily but slightly deformed, while the heads of the
children born of wealthy or noble persons, and particularly
those of chiefs, were severely and excessively deformed.”[973]
|Among the Bororos the best singers are the chiefs.|
Among the Bororos of Brazil at the present day the
title to chieftaincy is neither corpulence nor an egg-shaped
head, but the possession of a fine musical ear and a rich
baritone, bass, or tenor voice. The best singer, in fact,
becomes the chief. There is no other way to supreme
power but this. Hence in the education of the Bororo
youth the main thing is to train, not their minds, but their
voices, for the best of the tuneful quire will certainly be
299chief. In this tribe, accordingly, there is no such thing as
hereditary chieftainship; for if the son of a chief has an
indifferent ear or a poor voice, he will be a commoner to the
end of his days. When two rival songsters are found in
the same village, they sing against each other, and he who
is judged to have acquitted himself best in the musical
contest mounts the throne. His defeated rival sometimes
retires in a huff with his admirers and founds a new village.
Once seated in the place of power, the melodious singer is
not only highly honoured and respected, but can exact
unconditional obedience from all, and he gives his orders,
like an operatic king or hero, in a musical recitativo.
It is especially at eventide, when the sun has set and the
labours of the day are over, that he pours out his soul in
harmony. At that witching hour he takes up his post in
front of the men’s club-house, and while his subjects are
hushed in attention he bursts into sacred song, passing from
that to lighter themes, and concluding the oratorio by
chanting his commands to each individual for the next
day.[974] When Addison ridiculed the new fashion of the
Italian opera, in which generals sang the word of command,
ladies delivered their messages in music, and lovers chanted
their billet-doux, he little suspected that among the backwoods
of Brazil a tribe of savages in all seriousness observed
a custom which he thought absurd even on the stage.[975]
|Succession to the throne determined by a race.|
Sometimes apparently the right to the hand of the
princess and to the throne has been determined by a race.
The Alitemnian Libyans awarded the kingdom to the fleetest
runner.[976] Amongst the old Prussians, candidates for nobility
raced on horseback to the king, and the one who reached
him first was ennobled.[977] According to tradition the earliest
games at Olympia were held by Endymion, who set his
sons to run a race for the kingdom. His tomb was said
to be at the point of the racecourse from which the
runners started.[978] The famous story of Pelops and Hippodamia
300|Greek traditions of princesses whose hands were won in a race.|
is perhaps only another version of the legend that
the first races at Olympia were run for no less a prize than
a kingdom. For Oenomaus was king of Pisa, a town close
to Olympia; and having been warned by an oracle that he
would die by the hand of the man who married his daughter
Hippodamia, he resolved to keep her a maid. So when any
one came a-wooing her, the king made the suitor drive away
in a chariot with Hippodamia, while he himself pursued the
pair in another car drawn by fleet horses, and, overtaking the
unlucky wight, slew him. In this way he killed twelve
suitors and nailed their heads to his house, the ruins of
which were shewn at Olympia down to the second century
of our era. The bodies of the suitors were buried under a
lofty mound, and it is said that in former days sacrifices were
offered to them yearly. When Pelops came to win the hand
of Hippodamia, he bribed the charioteer of Oenomaus not to
put the pins into the wheels of the king’s chariot. So
Oenomaus was thrown from the car and dragged by his
horses to death. But some say he was despatched by
Pelops according to the oracle. Anyhow, he died, and
Pelops married Hippodamia and succeeded to the kingdom.[979]
The grave of Oenomaus was shown at Olympia; it was a
mound of earth enclosed with stones.[980] Here, too, precincts
were dedicated to Pelops and Hippodamia, in which sacrifices
were offered to them annually; the victim presented to
Pelops was a black ram, whose blood was poured into a pit.[981]
Other traditions were current in antiquity of princesses who
were offered in marriage to the fleetest runner and won by
the victor in the race. Thus Icarius at Sparta set the wooers
of his daughter Penelope to run a race; Ulysses won and
wedded her. His father-in-law is said to have tried to
induce him to take up his abode in Sparta; which seems to
shew that if Ulysses had accepted the invitation he would
have inherited the kingdom through his wife.[982] So, too,
the Libyan King Antaeus placed his beautiful daughter
Barce or Alceis at the end of the racecourse; her many
301noble suitors, both Libyans and foreigners, ran to her as the
goal, and Alcidamus, who touched her first, gained her in
marriage.[983] Danaus, also, at Argos is said to have stationed
his many daughters at the goal, and the runner who
reached them first had first choice of the maidens.[984]
Somewhat different from these traditions is the story of
Atalante, for in it the wooers are said to have contended,
not with each other, but with the coy maiden herself in a
foot-race. She slew her vanquished suitors and hung up
their heads in the racecourse, till Hippomenes gained the
race and her hand by throwing down the golden apples
which she stooped to pick up.[985]
|Custom of racing for a bride among the Kirghiz and Calmucks.|
These traditions may very well reflect a real custom of
racing for a bride, for such a custom appears to have prevailed
among various peoples, though in practice it has
degenerated into a mere form or pretence. Thus “there is
one race, called the ‘Love Chase,’ which may be considered
a part of the form of marriage among the Kirghiz. In this
the bride, armed with a formidable whip, mounts a fleet
horse, and is pursued by all the young men who make any
pretensions to her hand. She will be given as a prize to
the one who catches her, but she has the right, besides
urging on her horse to the utmost, to use her whip, often
with no mean force, to keep off those lovers who are unwelcome
to her, and she will probably favour the one whom
she has already chosen in her heart. As, however, by
Kirghiz custom, a suitor to the hand of a maiden is obliged
to give a certain kalym, or purchase-money, and an agreement
must be made with the father for the amount of dowry
which he gives his daughter, the ‘Love Chase’ is a mere
matter of form.”[986] Similarly “the ceremony of marriage
among the Calmucks is performed on horseback. A girl is
first mounted, who rides off in full speed. Her lover
pursues; and if he overtakes her, she becomes his wife, and
302the marriage is consummated on the spot, after which she
returns with him to his tent. But it sometimes happens
that the woman does not wish to marry the person by whom
she is pursued, in which case she will not suffer him to
overtake her; and we were assured that no instance occurs
of a Calmuck girl being thus caught unless she has a
partiality for her pursuer. If she dislikes him she rides, to
use the language of English sportsmen, ‘neck or nothing,’
until she has completely escaped, or until the pursuer’s
horse is tired out, leaving her at liberty to return, to be
afterwards chased by some more favoured admirer.”[987] The
race for the bride is found also among the Koryaks of
north-eastern Asia. It takes place in a large tent, round
which many separate compartments called pologs are arranged
in a continuous circle. The girl gets a start and is clear of
the marriage if she can run through all the compartments
without being caught by the bridegroom. The women of
the encampment place every obstacle in the man’s way,
tripping him up, belabouring him with switches, and so forth,
so that he has little chance of succeeding unless the girl
wishes it and waits for him.[988] Among some of the rude
indigenous tribes of the Malay Peninsula “marriage is
preceded by a singular ceremony. An old man presents
the future couple to the assembled guests, and, followed by
their families, he leads them to a great circle, round which
the girl sets off to run as fast as she can. If the young
man succeeds in overtaking her, she becomes his mate;
otherwise he loses all rights, which happens especially when
he is not so fortunate as to please his bride.”[989] Another
writer tells us that among these savages, when there is a
303river at hand, the race takes place on the water, the bride
paddling away in one canoe and pursued by the bridegroom
in another.[990] Before the wedding procession starts for the
|Caffre race for bride.|
bridegroom’s hut, a Caffre bride is allowed to make one
last bid for freedom, and a young man is told off to catch
her. Should he fail to do so, she is theoretically allowed
to return to her father, and the whole performance has to
be repeated; but the flight of the bride is usually a
pretence.[991]
|The bride-race among Teutonic peoples, and its
traces in modern Europe.|
Similar customs appear to have been practised by all the
Teutonic peoples; for the German, Anglo-Saxon, and Norse
languages possess in common a word for marriage which
means simply bride-race.[992] Moreover, traces of the custom
survived into modern times. Thus in the Mark of Brandenburg,
down to the first half of the nineteenth century at
least, it was the practice for bride and bridegroom to run a
race on their wedding day in presence of all the guests.
Two sturdy men took the bride between them and set off.
The bridegroom gave them a start and then followed hot-foot.
At the end of the course stood two or three young
married women, who took from the bride her maiden’s
crown and replaced it by the matron’s cap. If the bridegroom
failed to overtake his bride, he was much ridiculed.[993]
In other parts of Germany races are still held at marriage,
but the competitors are no longer the bride and bridegroom.
Thus in Hesse at the wedding of a well-to-do farmer his
friends race on horseback to the house of the bride, and her
friends similarly race on horseback to the house of the
bridegroom. The prize hangs over the gate of the farmyard
or the door of the house. It consists of a silken or woollen
304handkerchief, which the winner winds round his head or
fastens to his breast. The victors have also the right to
escort the marriage procession.[994] In Upper Bavaria, down
at least to some fifty years ago, a regular feature of
a rustic wedding used to be what was called the “bride-race”
or the “key-race.” It generally took place when the
bridal party was proceeding from the church to the alehouse.
A course was marked out and two goals, consisting of heaps
of straw, were set up at distances of three and four hundred
yards respectively. The strongest and fleetest of the young
fellows raced barefoot, clad only in shirt and trousers. He
who first reached the further goal received the first prize;
this was regularly a key of gilt wood, which the winner
fastened to his hat. Often, as in some of the Greek legends,
the bride herself was the goal of the race. The writers who
record the custom suggest that the race was originally for
the key of the bridechamber, and that the bridegroom ran
with the rest.[995] In Scotland also the guests at a rustic
wedding used to ride on horseback for a prize, which sometimes
consisted of the bride’s cake set up on a pole in front
of the bridegroom’s house. The race was known as the
broose.[996] At Weitensfeld, in Carinthia, a festival called the
Bride-race is still held every year. It is popularly supposed
to commemorate a time when a plague had swept away the
whole people except a girl and three young men. These
three, it is said, raced with each other in order that the
winner might get the maiden to wife, and so repeople the
land. The race is now held on horseback. The winner
receives as the prize a garland of flowers called the Bride-wreath,
and the man who comes in last gets a wreath of
ribbons and pig’s bristles.[997] It seems not impossible that this
custom is a relic of a fair at which the marriageable maidens
of the year were assigned in order of merit to the young
men who distinguished themselves by their feats of strength
305and agility. A practice of this sort appears to have prevailed
|Assignment of brides to picked young men among the Samnites.|
among the ancient Samnites. Every year the youths
and maidens were tested publicly, and the young man who
was adjudged best had first choice of the girls; the second
best had the next choice, and so on with the rest.[998] “They
say,” writes Strabo, “that the Samnites have a beautiful
custom which incites to virtue. For they may not give
their daughters in marriage to whom they please, but every
year the ten best maidens and the ten best youths are
picked out, and the best of the ten maidens is given to the
best of the ten youths, and the second to the second, and so
on. But if the man who wins one of these prizes should
afterwards turn out a knave, they disgrace him and take the
girl from him.”[999] The nature of the test to which the young
men and women were subjected is not mentioned, but we
may conjecture that it was mainly athletic.
|Contests for a bride other than races.|
The contests for a bride may be designed to try the
skill, strength, and courage of the suitors as well as their
horsemanship and speed of foot. Speaking of King’s
County, Ireland, in the latter part of the eighteenth century,
Arthur Young says: “There is a very ancient custom here,
for a number of country neighbours among the poor people,
to fix upon some young woman that ought, as they think,
to be married; they also agree upon a young fellow as a
proper husband for her; this determined, they send to the
fair one’s cabin to inform her that on the Sunday following
‘she is to be horsed,’ that is, carried on men’s backs. She
must then provide whisky and cyder for a treat, as all will
pay her a visit after mass for a hurling match. As soon as
she is horsed, the hurling begins, in which the young fellow
appointed for her husband has the eyes of all the company
fixed on him: if he comes off conqueror, he is certainly
married to the girl; but if another is victorious, he as certainly
loses her, for she is the prize of the victor. These
trials are not always finished in one Sunday, they take sometimes
two or three, and the common expression when they
are over is, that ‘such a girl was goal’d.’ Sometimes one
306barony hurls against another, but a marriageable girl is
always the prize. Hurling is a sort of cricket, but instead
of throwing the ball in order to knock down a wicket, the
aim is to pass it through a bent stick, the ends stuck in the
ground.”[1000] In the great Indian epic the Mahabharata it is
|The Indian Svayamvara.|
related that the hand of the lovely Princess Draupadi or
Krishna, daughter of the King of the Panchalas, was only
to be won by him who could bend a certain mighty bow
and shoot five arrows through a revolving wheel so as to hit
the target beyond. After many noble wooers had essayed
the task in vain, the disguised Arjun was successful, and
carried off the princess to be the wife of himself and his four
brothers.[1001] This was an instance of the ancient Indian
practice of Svayamvara, in accordance with which a maiden
of high rank either chose her husband from among her
assembled suitors or was offered as the prize to the conqueror
in a trial of skill. The custom was occasionally observed
among the Rajputs down to a late time.[1002] The Tartar king
Caidu, the cousin and opponent of Cublay Khan, is said to
have had a beautiful daughter named Aijaruc, or “the
Bright Moon,” who was so tall and brawny that she outdid
all men in her father’s realm in feats of strength. She
vowed she would never marry till she found a man who
could vanquish her in wrestling. Many noble suitors came
and tried a fall with her, but she threw them all; and
from every one whom she had overcome she exacted a
hundred horses. In this way she collected an immense
stud.[1003] In the Nibelungenlied the fair Brunhild, Queen of
Iceland, was only to be won in marriage by him who could
beat her in three trials of strength, and the unsuccessful
wooers forfeited their heads. Many had thus perished, but
at last Gunther, King of the Burgundians, vanquished and
307married her.[1004] It is said that Sithon, King of the Odomanti
in Thrace, had a lovely daughter, Pallene, and that many
|Hippoclides at Sicyon, and how he danced away his marriage.|
men came a-wooing her not only from Thrace but from
Illyria and the country of the Don. But her father said that
he who would wed his daughter must first fight himself and
pay with his life the penalty of defeat. Thus he slew many
young men. But when he was grown old and his strength
had failed, he set two of the wooers, by name Dryas and
Clitus, to fight each other for the kingdom and the hand of
the princess. The combat was to take place in chariots, but
the princess, being in love with Clitus, bribed his rival’s
charioteer to put no pins in the wheels of his chariot; so
Dryas came to the ground, and Clitus slew him and married
the king’s daughter.[1005] The tale agrees closely with that of
Pelops and Hippodamia. Both stories probably contain, in
a legendary form, reminiscences of a real custom. Within
historical times Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, made public
proclamation at the Olympian games that he would give his
daughter Agariste in marriage to that suitor who, during a
year’s trial, should prove himself the best. So many
young men who prided themselves on their persons and on
their lineage assembled at Sicyon from all parts of the
Greek world. The tyrant had a racecourse and a wrestling
school made on purpose for them, and there he put them
through their paces. Of all the suitors none pleased him so
much as Hippoclides, the handsomest and richest man of
Athens, a scion of the old princely house of Cypselus. And
when the year was up and the day had come on which the
award was to be made, the tyrant sacrificed a hundred oxen
and entertained the suitors and all the people of Sicyon at a
splendid banquet. Dinner being over, the wine went round
and the suitors fell to wrangling as to their accomplishments
and their wit. In this feast of reason the gay Hippoclides
outshone himself and them all until, flushed with triumph
and liquor, he jumped on a table, danced to music, and then,
as a finishing touch, stood on his head and sawed the air with
308his legs. This was too much. The tyrant in disgust told
him he had danced away his marriage.[1006]
|The annual flight of the king (regifugium) at Rome may have been
a relic of his contest for the kingdom and for the hand of the princess.|
Thus it appears that the right to marry a girl, and
especially a princess, has often been conferred as a prize in
an athletic contest. There would be no reason, therefore, for
surprise if the Roman kings, before bestowing their daughters
in marriage, should have resorted to this ancient mode of
testing the personal qualities of their future sons-in-law and
successors. If my theory is correct, the Roman king and
queen personated Jupiter and his divine consort, and in the
character of these divinities went through the annual ceremony
of a sacred marriage for the purpose of causing the
crops to grow and men and cattle to be fruitful and multiply.
Thus they did what in more northern lands we may suppose
the King and Queen of May were believed to do in days of
old. Now we have seen that the right to play the part of
the King of May and to wed the Queen of May has sometimes
been determined by an athletic contest, particularly
by a race.[1007] This may have been a relic of an old marriage
custom of the sort we have examined, a custom designed to
test the fitness of a candidate for matrimony. Such a test
might reasonably be applied with peculiar rigour to the
king in order to ensure that no personal defect should
incapacitate him for the performance of those sacred rites
and ceremonies on which, even more than on the despatch
of his civil and military duties, the safety and prosperity of
the community were believed to depend. And it would be
natural to require of him that from time to time he should
submit himself afresh to the same ordeal for the sake of
publicly demonstrating that he was still equal to the discharge
of his high calling. A relic of that test perhaps
survived in the ceremony known as the Flight of the King
(regifugium), continued to be annually observed at Rome
down to imperial times. On the twenty-fourth day of
309February a sacrifice used to be offered in the Comitium, and
when it was over the King of the Sacred Rites fled from the
Forum.[1008] We may conjecture that the Flight of the King was
originally a race for an annual kingship, which may have been
awarded as a prize to the fleetest runner. At the end of the
year the king might run again for a second term of office;
and so on, until he was defeated and deposed or perhaps
slain. In this way what had once been a race would tend
to assume the character of a flight and a pursuit. The king
would be given a start; he ran and his competitors ran after
him, and if he were overtaken he had to yield the crown and
perhaps his life to the lightest of foot among them. In time
a man of masterful character might succeed in seating himself
permanently on the throne and reducing the annual race
or flight to the empty form which it seems always to have been
within historical times.[1009] The rite was sometimes interpreted
as a commemoration of the expulsion of the kings from Rome;
but this appears to have been a mere afterthought devised
to explain a ceremony of which the old meaning was forgotten.
It is far more likely that in acting thus the King of
the Sacred Rites was merely keeping up an ancient custom
which in the regal period had been annually observed by
310his predecessors the kings. What the original intention of
the rite may have been must probably always remain more
or less a matter of conjecture. The present explanation is
suggested with a full sense of the difficulty and obscurity in
which the subject is involved.
|The theory is confirmed by the evidence that at the Saturnalia a man used
to personate the god Saturn and to be put to death in that character.|
Thus, if my theory is correct, the yearly flight of the
Roman king was a relic of a time when the kingship was
an annual office awarded, along with the hand of a princess, to
the victorious athlete or gladiator, who thereafter figured along
with his bride as a god and goddess at a sacred marriage
designed to ensure the fertility of the earth by homoeopathic
magic. Now this theory is to a certain extent remarkably
confirmed by an ancient account of the Saturnalia which was
discovered and published some years ago by a learned Belgian
scholar, Professor Franz Cumont of Ghent. From that
account we learn that down to the beginning of the fourth
century of our era, that is, down nearly to the establishment
of Christianity by Constantine, the Roman soldiers stationed
on the Danube were wont to celebrate the Saturnalia in a
barbarous fashion which must certainly have dated from a
very remote antiquity. Thirty days before the festival they
chose by lot from among themselves a young and handsome
man, who was dressed in royal robes to resemble the god Saturn.
In that character he was allowed to indulge all his passions
to the fullest extent; but when his brief reign of thirty days
was over, and the festival of Saturn was come, he had to cut
his own throat on the altar of the god he personated.[1010]
We can hardly doubt that this tragic figure, whom a fatal
lot doomed to masquerade for a short time as a deity and to
311die as such a violent death, was the true original of the merry
monarch or King of the Saturnalia, as he was called, whom a
happier lot invested with the playful dignity of Master of the
Winter Revels.[1011] In all probability the grim predecessor of
the frolicsome King of the Saturnalia belonged to that class
of puppets who in some countries have been suffered to reign
nominally for a few days each year merely for the sake of
discharging a burdensome or fatal obligation which otherwise
must have fallen on the real king.[1012] If that is so, we may
infer that the part of the god Saturn, who was commonly
spoken of as a king,[1013] was formerly played at the Saturnalia
by the Roman king himself. And a trace of the Sacred
Marriage may perhaps be detected in the licence accorded to
the human representatives of Saturn, a licence which, if I am
right, is strictly analogous to the old orgies of May Day and
other similar festivals. It is to be observed that Saturn was
|Saturn the god of seed, and the Saturnalia a festival of sowing.|
the god of the seed, and the Saturnalia the festival of sowing
held in December,[1014] when the autumn sowing was over and the
husbandman gave himself up to a season of jollity after the
long labours of summer and autumn.[1015] On the principles of
312homoeopathic magic nothing could be more natural than that,
when the last seeds had been committed to the earth, the
marriage of the powers of vegetation should be simulated by
their human representatives for the purpose of sympathetically
quickening the seed. In short, no time could be more suitable
for the celebration of the Sacred Marriage. We have
seen as a matter of fact that the sowing of the seed has often
been accompanied by sexual orgies with the express intention
of thereby promoting the growth of the crops. At all events
the view that the King’s Flight at Rome was a mitigation of
an old custom of putting him to death at the end of a year’s
tenure of office, is confirmed by the practice of annually
slaying a human representative of the divine king Saturn,
which survived in some parts of the Roman empire, though
not at Rome itself, down to Christian times.
|If the Latin kings were begotten at the licentious festival of the Saturnalia,
we could understand why their paternity was sometimes uncertain, and why
they might be of servile parentage.|
This theory would throw light on some dark passages in
the legends of the Roman kingship, such as the obscure and
humble births of certain kings and their mysterious ends.
For if the sacred marriage took place at a licentious festival
like the Saturnalia, when slaves were temporarily granted the
privileges of freemen,[1016] it might well be that the paternity
of the children begotten at this time, including those of the
royal family, was a matter of uncertainty; nay, it might be
known that the king or queen had offspring by a slave.
Such offspring of a royal father and a slave mother, or of a
royal mother and a slave father, would rank as princes and
princesses according as male or female kinship prevailed.
Under a system of male kinship the union of the king with
a slave woman would give birth to a Servius Tullius, and,
according to one tradition, to a Romulus. If female kinship
prevailed in the royal family, as we have seen reason to suppose,
it is possible that the stories of the birth of Romulus and
313Servius from slave mothers is a later inversion of the facts,
and that what really happened was that some of the old
Latin kings were begotten by slave fathers on royal princesses
at the festival of the Saturnalia. The disappearance of
female kinship would suffice to account for the warping of the
tradition. All that was distinctly remembered would be that
some of the kings had had a slave for one of their parents;
and people living under a system of paternal descent would
naturally conclude that the slave parent of a king could only
be the mother, since according to their ideas no son of a
slave father could be of royal blood and sit on the throne.[1017]
|The violent ends of the Roman kings.|
Again, if I am right in supposing that in very early
times the old Latin kings personated a god and were
regularly put to death in that character, we can better
understand the mysterious or violent ends to which so many
of them are said to have come. Too much stress should
not, however, be laid on such legends, for in a turbulent state
of society kings, like commoners, are apt to be knocked
on the head for much sounder reasons than a claim to
divinity. Still, it is worth while to note that Romulus is said
to have vanished mysteriously like Aeneas, or to have
been cut to pieces by the patricians whom he had offended,[1018]|Death of Romulus on the seventh of July, the Nonae Caprotinae,
at a festival resembling the Saturnalia.|
and that the seventh of July, the day on which he perished,
was a festival which bore some resemblance to the Saturnalia.
For on that day the female slaves were allowed to take
certain remarkable liberties. They dressed up as free women
in the attire of matrons and maids, and in this guise they
went forth from the city, scoffed and jeered at all whom
they met, and engaged among themselves in a fight, striking
and throwing stones at each other. Moreover, they feasted
under a wild fig-tree, made use of a rod cut from the tree
for a certain purpose, perhaps to beat each other with, and
offered the milky juice of the tree in sacrifice to Juno
Caprotina, whose name appears to mean either the goddess
of the goat (caper) or the goddess of the wild fig-tree, for
314|The Nonae Caprotinae seems to have been the festival of the
fertilisation of the fig.|
the Romans called a wild fig-tree a goat-fig (caprificus).
Hence the day was called the Nonae Caprotinae after the
animal or the tree. The festival was not peculiar to Rome,
but was held by women throughout Latium.[1019] It can hardly
be dissociated from a custom which was observed by ancient
husbandmen at this season. They sought to fertilise the
fig-trees or ripen the figs by hanging strings of fruit from a
wild fig-tree among the boughs. The practice appears to
be very old. It has been employed in Greece both in
ancient and modern times, and Roman writers often refer
to it. Palladius recommends the solstice in June, that is
Midsummer Day, as the best time for the operation;
Columella prefers July.[1020] In Sicily at the present day the
operation is performed either on Midsummer Day (the
festival of St. John the Baptist) or in the early days of July;[1021]
in Morocco and North Africa generally it takes place
on Midsummer Day.[1022] The wild fig-tree is a male and
315the cultivated fig-tree is a female, and the fertilisation
is effected by insects, which are engendered in the fruit
of the male tree and convey the pollen to the blossom
of the female.[1023] Thus the placing of wild figs, laden with
pollen and insects, among the boughs of the cultivated fig-tree
is, like the artificial fertilisation of the date-palm,[1024] a real
marriage of the trees, and it may well have been regarded
as such by the peasants of antiquity long before the true
theory of the process was discovered. Now the fig is an
|Importance of the fig as an article of diet.|
important article of diet in countries bordering on the
Mediterranean. In Palestine, for example, the fruit is not,
as with us, merely an agreeable luxury, but is eaten daily
and forms indeed one of the staple productions of the
country. “To sit every man under his vine, and under his
fig tree” was the regular Jewish expression for the peaceable
possession of the Holy Land; and in the fable of Jotham
the fig-tree is invited by the other trees, next after the olive,
to come and reign over them.[1025] When Sandanis the Lydian
316attempted to dissuade Croesus from marching against the
Persians, he represented to him that there was nothing to be
gained by conquering the inhabitants of a barren country who
neither drank wine nor ate figs.[1026] An Arab commentator on
the Koran observes that “God swears by these two trees, the
fig and the olive, because among fruit-trees they surpass all
the rest. They relate that a basket of figs was offered to the
prophet Mohammed, and when he had eaten one he bade
his comrades do the same, saying, ‘Truly, if I were to say
that any fruit had come down from Paradise, I would say it
of the fig.’”[1027] Hence it would be natural that a process
supposed to be essential to the ripening of so favourite a
fruit should be the occasion of a popular festival. We may
suspect that the license allowed to slave women on this day
formed part of an ancient Saturnalia, at which the loose
behaviour of men and women was supposed to secure the
fertilisation of the fig-trees by homoeopathetic magic.
|At the festival of the seventh of July women were probably thought to
be fertilised by the fig as well as to fertilise it.|
But it is possible and indeed probable that the fertilisation
was believed to be mutual; in other words, it may have
been imagined, that while the women caused the fig-tree to
bear fruit, the tree in its turn caused them to bear children.
This conjecture is confirmed by a remarkable African parallel.
The Akikuyu of British East Africa attribute to the wild fig-tree
|Supposed fertilisation of barren women by the wild fig-tree
among the Akikuyu of British East Africa.|
the power of fertilising barren women. For this purpose
they apply the white sap or milk to various parts of the body
of the would-be mother; then, having sacrificed a goat, they
tie the woman to a wild fig-tree with long strips cut from the
intestines of the sacrificial animal. “This seems,” writes Mr.
C. W. Hobley, who reports the custom, “to be a case of the
tree marriage of India. I fancy there is an idea of ceremonial
marriage with the ancestral spirits which are said to inhabit
certain of these fig-trees; in fact it supports the Kamba idea
of the spiritual husbands.”[1028] The belief in spiritual husbands,
317|Belief of the Akamba that the spirits of the dead live in wild fig-trees.|
to which Mr. Hobley here briefly refers, is as follows. The
Akamba of British East Africa imagine that every married
woman is at the same time the wife of a living man and also
the wife of the spirit of some departed ancestor (aimu).
They are firmly convinced that the fertility of a wife depends
to a great extent on the attentions of her spiritual husband,
and if she does not conceive within six months after marriage
they take it as a sign that her spiritual husband is neglecting
her; so they offer beer and kill a goat as a propitiatory
sacrifice. If after that the woman still remains barren, they
make a bigger feast and kill a bullock. On the other hand,
if a wife is found to be with child soon after marriage, they
are glad and consider it a proof that she has found favour in
the eyes of her ghostly husband. Further, they believe that
at death the human spirit quits the bodily frame and takes
up its abode in a wild fig-tree (mumbo); hence they build
miniature huts at the foot of those fig-trees which are thought
to be haunted by the souls of the dead, and they periodically
sacrifice to these spirits.[1029] Accordingly, we may conjecture,
though we are not told, that amongst the Akamba, as among
the Akikuyu, a barren woman sometimes resorts to a wild fig-tree
in order to obtain a child, since she believes that her
spiritual spouse has his abode in the tree. The Akikuyu clearly
attribute a special power of fertilisation to the milky sap of
the tree, since they apply it to various parts of the woman
who desires to become a mother: perhaps they regard it as
the seed of the fig. This may explain why the Roman slave-women
offered the milky juice of the tree to Juno Caprotina;
they may have intended thereby to add to the fecundity of
the mother goddess. And we can scarcely doubt that the
rods which they cut from the wild fig-tree, for the purpose
apparently of beating each other, were supposed to communicate
the generative virtue of the tree to the women who
318|Supposed fertilisation of women by the wild banana-tree among the Baganda.|
were struck by them. The Baganda of Central Africa appear
to ascribe to the wild banana-tree the same power of removing
barrenness which the Akikuyu attribute to the wild fig-tree.
For when a wife has no child, she and her husband
will sometimes repair to a wild banana-tree and there,
standing one on each side of the tree, partake of the male
organs of a goat, the man eating the flesh and drinking
the soup and the woman drinking the soup only. This
is believed to ensure conception after the husband has gone
in to his wife.[1030] Here again, as among the Akikuyu, we
see that the fertilising virtue of the tree is reinforced by
the fertilising virtue of the goat; and we can therefore
better understand why the Romans called the male wild
fig-tree “goat-fig,” and why the Messenians dubbed it simply
“he-goat.”
|The Roman king may have celebrated a sacred marriage on the Nonae Caprotinae
as a charm to make the fig-trees bear fruit.|
The association of the death of Romulus with the festival
of the wild fig-tree can hardly be accidental, especially as
he and his twin-brother Remus were said to have been
suckled by the she-wolf under a fig-tree, the famous ficus
Ruminalis, which was shewn in the forum as one of the
sacred objects of Rome and received offerings of milk down to
late times.[1031] Indeed, some have gone so far both in ancient
and modern times as to derive the names of Romulus and
Rome itself from this fig-tree (ficus Ruminalis); if they are
right, Romulus was “the fig-man” and Rome “the fig-town.”[1032]
Be that as it may, the clue to the association of Romulus
with the fig is probably furnished by the old belief that
the king is responsible for the fruits of the earth and the rain
from heaven. We may conjecture that on this principle the
Roman king was expected to make the fig-trees blossom and
319bear figs, and that in order to do so he masqueraded as
the god of the fig-tree and went through a form of sacred
marriage, either with his queen or with a slave-woman,
on the July day when the husbandmen resorted to a
more efficacious means of producing the same result. The
ceremony of the sacred marriage need not have been restricted
to a single day in the year. It may well have been
repeated for many different crops and fruits. If the Queen
of Athens was annually married to the god of the vine,
why should not the King of Rome have annually wedded
the goddess of the fig?
|The marriage of the divine king or human god often followed by his death.|
But, as we have seen, Romulus, the first king of
Rome, is said to have perished on the day of this festival
of the fig, which, if our hypothesis is correct, was also
the day of his ceremonial marriage to the tree. That
the real date of his death should have been preserved by
tradition is very improbable; rather we may suppose
that the reason for dating his death and his marriage
on the same day was drawn from some ancient ritual in
which the two events were actually associated. But we
have still to ask, Why should the king’s wedding-day
be also the day of his death? The answer must be
deferred for the present. All we need say now is that
elsewhere the marriage of the divine king or human god
has been regularly followed at a brief interval by his
violent end. For him, as for others, death often treads on
the heels of love.[1033]
320|Violent ends of Tatius, Tullus Hostilius, and other Roman kings.|
Another Roman king who perished by violence was
Tatius, the Sabine colleague of Romulus. It is said that he
was at Lavinium offering a public sacrifice to the ancestral
gods, when some men to whom he had given umbrage
despatched him with the sacrificial knives and spits which
they had snatched from the altar.[1034] The occasion and the
manner of his death suggest that the slaughter may have
been a sacrifice rather than an assassination. Again,
Tullus Hostilius, the successor of Numa, was commonly
said to have been killed by lightning, but many held that
he was murdered at the instigation of Ancus Marcius, who
reigned after him.[1035] Speaking of the more or less mythical
Numa, the type of the priestly king, Plutarch observes that
“his fame was enhanced by the fortunes of the later kings.
For of the five who reigned after him the last was deposed
and ended his life in exile, and of the remaining four not
one died a natural death; for three of them were assassinated
and Tullus Hostilius was consumed by thunderbolts.”[1036]
This implies that King Ancus Marcius, as well as Tarquin
the Elder and Servius Tullius, perished by the hand of an
assassin. No other ancient historian, so far as I know,
records this of Ancus Marcius, though one of them says that
the king “was carried off by an untimely death.”[1037] Tarquin
the Elder was slain by two murderers whom the sons of his
predecessor, Ancus Marcius, had hired to do the deed.[1038]
Lastly, Servius Tullius came by his end in circumstances
which recall the combat for the priesthood of Diana at
Nemi. He was attacked by his successor and killed by his
orders, though not by his hand. Moreover, he lived among
the oak groves of the Esquiline Hill at the head of the
321Slope of Virbius, and it was here, beside a sanctuary of
Diana, that he was slain.[1039]
|The succession to the Latin kingshipmay sometimes have been
decided by single combat.|
These legends of the violent ends of the Roman kings
suggest that the contest by which they gained the throne
may sometimes have been a mortal combat rather than a
race. If that were so, the analogy which we have traced
between Rome and Nemi would be still closer. At both
places the sacred kings, the living representatives of the godhead,
would thus be liable to suffer deposition and death at the
hand of any resolute man who could prove his divine right
to the holy office by the strong arm and the sharp sword. It
would not be surprising if among the early Latins the claim to
the kingdom should often have been settled by single combat;
for down to historical times the Umbrians regularly submitted
their private disputes to the ordeal of battle, and he who
cut his adversary’s throat was thought thereby to have
proved the justice of his cause beyond the reach of cavil.[1040]
“Any one who remembers how in the forests of Westphalia
the Femgericht set the modern civil law at defiance down
into the eighteenth century, and how in the mountains of
Corsica and Sardinia blood-revenge has persisted and persists
to our own days, will not wonder that hardly a century
after the union of Italy the Roman legislation had not yet
succeeded in putting down the last relics of this ancient
Italian or rather Indo-European mode of doing justice in
the nests of the Apennines.”[1041]
|Combats for the kingdom in Africa.|
A parallel to what I conceive to have been the rule of the
322old Latin kingship is furnished by a West African custom
of to-day. When the Maluango or king of Loango, who
is deemed the representative of God on earth, has been
elected, he has to take his stand at Nkumbi, a large tree
near the entrance to his sacred ground. Here, encouraged
by one of his ministers, he must fight all rivals who present
themselves to dispute his right to the throne.[1042] This is one
of the many instances in which the rites and legends of
ancient Italy are illustrated by the practice of modern Africa.
Similarly among the Banyoro of Central Africa, whose
king had to take his life with his own hand whenever his
health and strength began to fail, the succession to the
throne was determined by a mortal combat among the
claimants, who fought till only one of them was left alive.[1043]
Even in England a relic of a similar custom survived till
lately in the coronation ceremony, at which a champion
used to throw down his glove and challenge to mortal
combat all who disputed the king’s right to the crown. The
ceremony was witnessed by Pepys at the coronation of
Charles the Second.[1044]
|In Greece and Italy kings probably personated Cronus and Saturn, the god of the seed,
before they personated Zeus and Jupiter, the god of the oak.|
In the foregoing enquiry we have found reason to suppose
that the Roman kings personated not only Jupiter the
god of the oak, but Saturn the god of the seed and perhaps
also the god of the fig-tree. The question naturally
arises, Did they do so simultaneously or successively? In
other words, did the same king regularly represent the oak-god
at one season of the year, the seed-god at another, and
the fig-god at a third? or were there separate dynasties of
oak-kings, seed-kings, and fig-kings, who belonged perhaps
to different stocks and reigned at different times? The
323evidence does not allow us to answer these questions
definitely. But tradition certainly points to the conclusion
that in Latium and perhaps in Italy generally the seed-god
Saturn was an older deity than the oak-god Jupiter, just
as in Greece Cronus appears to have preceded Zeus. Perhaps
Saturn and Cronus were the gods of an old indigenous
and agricultural people; while Jupiter and Zeus were the
divinities of a ruder invading race, which swarmed down
into Italy and Greece from the forests of central Europe,
bringing their wild woodland deities to dwell in more fertile
lands, under softer skies, side by side with the gods of the
corn and the vine, the olive and the fig. If that was so,
we may suppose that before the irruption of these northern
barbarians the old kings of Greece and Italy personated the
gods of the fat field and fruitful orchard, and that it was
not till after the conquest that their successors learned to
pose as the god of the verdant oak and the thundering sky.
However, on questions so obscure we must be content to
suspend our judgment. It is unlikely that the student’s
search-light will ever pierce the mists that hang over these
remote ages. All that we can do is to follow the lines of
evidence backward as far as they can be traced, till, after
growing fainter and fainter, they are lost altogether in the
darkness.
CHAPTER XIX ST. GEORGE AND THE PARILIA
324
|The early Italians were as much a pastoral as an agricultural people, and their
kings would be expected to ensure the safety and fecundity of the flocks and herds.|
In the course of the preceding investigation we found
reason to assume that the old Latin kings, like their
brethren in many parts of the world, were charged with
certain religious duties or magical functions, amongst which
the maintenance of the fertility of the earth held a principal
place. By this I do not mean that they had to see to it
only that the rain fell, and that the corn grew and trees
put forth their fruit in due season. In those early days it
is probable that the Italians were quite as much a pastoral
as an agricultural people, or, in other words, that they
depended for their subsistence no less on their flocks and
herds than on their fields and orchards. To provide their
cattle with grass and water, to ensure their fecundity and
the abundance of their milk, and to guard them from the
depredations of wild beasts, would be objects of the first
importance with the shepherds and herdsmen who, according
to tradition, founded Rome;[1045] and the king, as the
representative or embodiment of the deity, would be expected
to do his part towards procuring these blessings for
his people by the performance of sacred rites. The Greeks
of the Homeric age, as we have seen, thought that the
reign of a good king not only made the land to bear wheat
325and barley, but also caused the flocks to multiply and the
sea to yield fish.[1046]
|Numa is said to have been born and Rome to have been founded on the shepherds’
festival of the Parilia, the twenty-first of April.|
In this connexion, accordingly, it can be no mere
accident that Rome is said to have been founded and
the pious king Numa to have been born on the twenty-first
of April, the day of the great shepherds’ festival of the
Parilia.[1047] It is very unlikely that the real day either of the
foundation of the city or of Numa’s birth should have been
remembered, even if we suppose Numa to have been an
historical personage rather than a mythical type; it is far
more probable that both events were arbitrarily assigned to
this date by the speculative antiquaries of a later age on
the ground of some assumed fitness or propriety. In what
did this fitness or propriety consist? The belief that the
first Romans were shepherds and herdsmen would be reason
enough for supposing that Rome was founded on the day of
the shepherds’ festival, or even that the festival was instituted
to commemorate the event.[1048] But why should Numa be
thought to have been born on that day of all days?
Perhaps it was because the old sacred kings, of whom he
was the model, had to play an important part in the ceremonies
of the day. The birthdays of the gods were
celebrated by festivals;[1049] the kings were divine or semi-divine;
it would be natural, therefore, that their birthdays
should be identified with high feasts and holidays.
Whether this was so or not, the festival of the Parilia
presents so many points of resemblance to some of
the popular customs discussed in these volumes that a
326brief examination of it may not be inappropriate in this
place.[1050]
|The Parilia, a festival celebrated by shepherds and herdsmen
in honour of Pales, for the safety and increase of their flocks and herds.|
The spring festival of the twenty-first of April, known
as the birthday of Rome,[1051] was deemed second in importance
to none in the calendar.[1052] It was held by shepherds and
herdsmen for the welfare and increase of their flocks and
herds.[1053] The pastoral deity to whom they paid their devotions
was Pales, as to whose sex the ancients themselves
were not at one. In later times they commonly spoke of
her as a goddess; but Varro regarded Pales as masculine,[1054]
and we may follow his high authority. The day was
celebrated with similar rites both in the town and the
country, but in its origin it must have been a strictly rural
festival. Indeed, it could hardly be carried out in full
except among the sheepfolds and cattle-pens. At some
time of the day, probably in the morning, the people repaired
to the temple of Vesta, where they received from the
Vestal Virgins ashes, blood, and bean-straw to be used in
fumigating themselves and probably their beasts. The
ashes were those of the unborn calves which had been torn
from their mothers’ wombs on the fifteenth of April; the
blood was that which had dripped from the tail of a horse
sacrificed in October.[1055] Both were probably supposed to
exercise a fertilising as well as a cleansing influence on the
people and on the cattle;[1056] for apparently one effect of the
ceremonies, in the popular opinion, was to quicken the
wombs of women no less than of cows and ewes.[1057] At break
327of day the shepherd purified his sheep, after sprinkling and
sweeping the ground. The fold was decked with leafy
boughs, and a great wreath was hung on the door.[1058] The
purification of the flocks apparently consisted in driving
them over burning heaps of grass, pine-wood, laurel, and
branches of the male olive-tree.[1059] Certainly at some time of
|The flocks purified by being driven through fire.|
the day the sheep were compelled to scamper over a fire.[1060]
Moreover, the bleating flocks were touched with burning
sulphur and fumigated with its blue smoke.[1061] Then the
shepherd offered to Pales baskets of millet, cakes of millet,
and pails of warm milk. Next he prayed to the god
that he would guard the fold from the evil powers, including
probably witchcraft;[1062] that the flocks, the men,
and the dogs might be hale and free from disease; that
the sheep might not fall a prey to wolves; that grass
and leaves might abound; that water might be plentiful;
that the udders of the dams might be full of milk;
that the rams might be lusty, and the ewes prolific; that
many lambs might be born; and that there might be much
wool at shearing.[1063] This prayer the shepherd had to repeat
four times, looking to the east; then he washed his hands
in the morning dew. After that he drank a bowl of milk
and wine, and, warmed with the liquor, leaped ever burning
heaps of crackling straw. This practice of jumping over a
straw fire would seem to have been a principal part of the
ceremonies: at least it struck the ancients themselves, for
they often refer to it.[1064]
|The shepherd’s prayer.|
The shepherd’s prayer at the Parilia is instructive,
because it gives us in short a view of the chief wants of
328|The shepherd has to propitiate the tree-spirits and water-spirits.|
the pastoral life. The supplication for grass and leaves
and water reminds us that the herdsman no less than the
husbandman depends ultimately on vegetation and rain;
so that the same divine powers which cover the fields of
the one with yellow corn may be conceived to carpet the
meadows of the other with green grass, and to diversify them
with pools and rivers for the refreshment of the thirsty
cattle. And it is to be borne in mind that in countries
where grass is less plentiful than under the rainy skies of
northern Europe, sheep, goats, and cattle still subsist in
great measure on the leaves and juicy twigs of trees.[1065] Hence
in these lands the pious shepherd and goatherd cannot
afford to ignore or to offend the tree-spirits, on whose favour
and bounty his flocks are dependent for much of their
fodder. Indeed, at the Parilia the shepherd made elaborate
excuses to these divine beings for any trespass he might
unwittingly have committed on their hallowed domain by
entering a sacred grove, sitting in the shadow of a holy tree,
or lopping leafy branches from it with which to feed a sickly
sheep.[1066] In like manner he craved pardon of the water-nymphs,
if the hoofs of his cattle had stirred up the mud in
their clear pools; and he implored Pales to intercede for
him with the divinities of springs “and the gods dispersed
through every woodland glade.”[1067]
|The Parilia was perhaps the time when the flocks and herds were turned out
for the first time in spring to graze in the open.|
The Parilia was generally considered to be the best
time for coupling the rams and the ewes;[1068] and it has been
329suggested that it was also the season when the flocks and
herds, after being folded and stalled throughout the winter,
were turned out for the first time to pasture in spring.[1069] The
occasion is an anxious one for the shepherd, especially in
countries which are infested with wolves, as ancient Italy
was.[1070] Accordingly the Italian shepherd propitiated Pales
with a slaughtered victim before he drove his flocks afield
in spring;[1071] but it is doubtful whether this sacrifice formed
part of the Parilia. None of the ancient authors who expressly
describe the Parilia mention the slaughter of a
victim; and in Plutarch’s day a tradition ran that of old no
blood was shed at the festival.[1072] But such a tradition seems
to point to a contrary practice in after-times. In the
absence of decisive evidence the question must be left open;
but modern analogy, as we shall see, strongly supports the
opinion that immediately at the close of the Parilia the
flocks and herds were driven out to graze in the open
pastures for the first time after their long winter confinement.
On this view a special significance is seen to attach to some
of the features of the festival, such as the prayer for protection
against the wolf; for the brute could hardly do the
sheep and kine much harm so long as they were safely pent
within the walls of the sheepcote and the cattle-stall.
|The Roman kings had perhaps to discharge some important
religious function at the Parilia.|
As the Parilia is said to have been celebrated by
Romulus, who sacrificed to the gods and caused the people
to purify themselves by leaping over flames,[1073] some scholars
have inferred that it was customary for the king, and afterwards
for his successor, the chief pontiff, or the King of the
Sacred Rites, to offer sacrifices for the people at the Parilia.[1074]
The inference is reasonable and receives some confirmation,
as we shall see presently, from the analogy of modern
custom. Further, the tradition that Numa was born on the
day of the Parilia may be thought to point in the same way,
since it is most naturally explicable on the hypothesis that
330the king had to discharge some important function at the
festival. Still, it must be confessed that the positive
evidence for connecting the Roman kings with the celebration
of the twenty-first of April is slight and dubious.
|The Parilia intended to ensure the welfare of the cattle and to
guard them against witches and wolves.|
On the whole the festival of the Parilia, which probably
fell at or near the time of turning out the cattle to pasture
in spring, was designed to ensure their welfare and increase,
and to guard them from the insidious machinations or the
open attacks of their various enemies, among whom witches
and wolves were perhaps the most dreaded.
|A celebration of the same sort is still held in eastern Europe on the twenty-third
of April, the festival of St. George, the patron saint of cattle, horses, and wolves.|
Now it can hardly be a mere coincidence that down to
modern times a great popular festival of this sort has been
celebrated only two days later by the herdsmen and shepherds
of eastern Europe, who still cherish a profound belief
in witchcraft, and still fear, with far better reason, the raids
of wolves on their flocks and herds. The festival falls on
the twenty-third of April and is dedicated to St. George, the
patron saint of cattle, horses, and wolves. The Esthonians
say that on St. George’s morning the wolf gets a ring round
his snout and a halter about his neck, whereby he is rendered
less dangerous till Michaelmas. But if the day should
chance to be a Friday at full moon, or if before the day
came round any person should have been so rash as to
thump the dirty linen in the wash-tub with two beetles, the
cattle will run a serious risk of being devoured by wolves.
Many are the precautions taken by the anxious Esthonians
|Precautions taken by the Esthonians against wolves
and witches on St. George’s Day.|
on this day to guard their herds from the ravening beasts.
Thus some people gather wolf’s dung on the preceding
night, burn it, and fumigate the cattle with it in the morning.
Or they collect bones from the pastures and burn them at a
cross-road, which serves as a charm against sickness, sorcery,
and demons quite as well as against wolves. Others smoke
the cattle with asa foetida or sulphur to protect them against
witchcraft and noxious exhalations. They think, too, that
if you sew stitches on St. George’s morning the cubs of the
wolves will be blind, no doubt because their eyes are sewed
up by the needle and thread. In order to forecast the fate of
their herds the peasants put eggs or a sharp weapon, such as
an axe or a scythe, before the doors of the stalls, and the
animal which crushes an egg or wounds itself will surely be
331rent by a wolf or will perish in some other fashion before
the year is out. So certain is its fate that many a man
prefers to slaughter the doomed beast out of hand for the
sake of saving at least the beef.
|The Esthonians generally drive their cattle out to pasture for the first
time on St. George’s Day.|
As a rule the Esthonians drive their cattle out to pasture
for the first time on St. George’s Day, and the herdsman’s
duties begin from then. If, however, the herds should have
been sent out to graze before that day, the boys who look
after them must eat neither flesh nor butter while they are
on duty; else the wolves will destroy many sheep, and the
cream will not turn to butter in the churn. Further, the
boys may not kindle a fire in the wood, or the wolf’s tooth
would be fiery and he would bite viciously. By St.
George’s Day, the twenty-third of April, there is commonly
fresh grass in the meadows. But even if the spring should
be late and the cattle should have to return to their stalls
hungrier than they went forth, many Esthonian farmers
insist on turning out the poor beasts on St. George’s Day in
order that the saint may guard them against his creatures
the wolves. On this morning the farmer treats the herdsman
to a dram of brandy, and gives him two copper kopecks
as “tail-money” for every cow in the herd. This money
the giver first passes thrice round his head and then lays it
on the dunghill; for if the herdsman took it from his hand,
it would in some way injure the herd. Were this ceremony
omitted, the wolves would prove very destructive, because
they had not been appeased on St. George’s Day. After
receiving the “tail-money” some herdsmen are wont to
collect the herd on the village common. Here they set up
their crook in the ground, place their hat on it, and walk
thrice round the cattle, muttering spells or the Lord’s Prayer
as they do so. The pastoral crook should be cut from the
rowan or mountain-ash and consecrated by a wise man, who
carves mystic signs on it. Sometimes the upper end of the
crook is hollowed out and filled with quicksilver and asa
foetida, the aperture being stopped up with resin. Some
Esthonians cut a cross with a scythe under the door through
which the herd is to be driven, and fill the furrows of the
cross with salt to prevent certain evil beings from harming
the cattle. Further, it is an almost universal custom in
332Esthonia not to hang bells on the necks of the kine till
St. George’s Day; the few who can give a reason for the
rule say that the chiming of the bells before that season
would attract the wild beasts.[1075]
|Sacrifices for horses offered on St. George’s Day by
the Esthonians of Dago.|
In the island of Dago down to the early part of the
nineteenth century there were certain holy trees from which
no one dared to break a bough; in spite of the lack of
wood in the island the fallen branches were allowed to rot
in heaps on the ground. Under such trees the Esthonians
used to offer sacrifices on St. George’s Day for the safety
and welfare of their horses. The offerings, which consist of
an egg, a piece of money, and a bunch of horse-hair tied up
with a red thread, were buried in the earth.[1076] The custom
is interesting because it exhibits St. George in the two-fold
character of a patron of horses and of trees. In the latter
capacity he has already met us more than once under the
name of Green George.[1077]
|St. George as the patron of wolves and cattle in Russia; the herds are driven
out to pasture for the first time on his day.|
In Russia the saint is known as Yegory or Yury, and
here, as in Esthonia, he is a patron of wolves as well as of
flocks and herds. Many legends speak of the connexion
which exists between St. George and the wolf. In Little
Russia the beast is known as “St. George’s Dog,” and the
carcases of sheep which wolves have killed are not eaten,
it being held that they have been made over by divine
command to the beasts of the field.[1078] The festival of St.
George on the twenty-third of April has a national as well
as an ecclesiastical character in Russia, and the mythical
features of the songs which are devoted to the day prove
that the saint has supplanted some old Slavonian deity who
used to be honoured at this season in heathen times. It is
not as a slayer of dragons and a champion of forlorn
damsels that St. George figures in these songs, but as a
patron of farmers and herdsmen who preserves cattle from
harm, and on whose day accordingly the flocks and herds
333are driven out to browse the fresh pastures for the first time
after their confinement through the long Russian winter.
“What the wolf holds in its teeth, that Yegory has given,”
is a proverb which shews how completely he is thought to
rule over the fold and the stall. Here is one of the
songs:—
“We have gone around the field,
We have called Yegory ...
‘O thou, our brave Yegory,
Save our cattle,
In the field, and beyond the field,
In the forest, and beyond the forest,
Under the bright moon,
Under the red sun,
From the rapacious wolf,
From the cruel bear,
From the cunning beast.’”
A White-Russian song represents St. George as opening
with golden keys, probably the sunbeams, the soil which has
been frost-bound all the winter:—
“Holy Jury, the divine envoy,
Has gone to God,
And having taken the golden keys,
Has unlocked the moist earth,
Having scattered the clinging dew
Over White-Russia and all the world.”
In Moravia they “meet the Spring” with a song in which
they ask Green Thursday, that is, the day before Good Friday,
what he has done with the keys, and he answers: “I gave
them to St. George. St. George arose and unlocked the
earth, so that the grass grew—the green grass.” In White
Russia it is customary on St. George’s Day to drive the
cattle afield through the morning dew, and in Little Russia
and Bulgaria young folk go out early and roll themselves in
it.[1079] In the Smolensk Government on this day the cattle
are driven out first to the rye-fields and then to the pastures.
A religious service is held in the stalls before the departure
of the herd and afterwards in the field, where the stool
334which supported the holy picture is allowed to stand for
several weeks till the next procession with the pictures of
the saints takes place. St. George’s Day in this government
is the herdsmen’s festival, and it is the term from
which their engagements are dated.[1080] And in the Smolensk
Government, when the herds are being sent out to graze
on St. George’s Day, the following spell is uttered:—
“Deaf man, deaf man, dost thou hear us?”
“I hear not.”
“God grant that the wolf may not hear our cattle!”
“Cripple, cripple, canst thou catch us?”
“I cannot catch.”
“God grant that the wolf may not catch our cattle!”
“Blind man, blind man, dost thou see us?”
“I see not.”
“God grant that the wolf may not see our cattle!”[1081]
|In Russia witches try to steal the milk of the cattle on
the eve of St. George.|
But in the opinion of the Russian peasant wolves are
not the only foes of cattle at this season. On the eve of St.
George’s Day, as well as on the night before Whitsunday
and on Midsummer Eve, witches go out naked in the dark
and cut chips from the doors and gates of farmyards. These
they boil in a milk-pail, and thus charm away the milk from
the farms. Hence careful housewives examine their doors
and smear mud in any fresh gashes they may find in them,
which frustrates the knavish tricks of the milk-stealing witch.
Not to be baffled, however, the witches climb the wooden
crosses by the wayside and chip splinters from them, or lay
their hands on stray wooden wedges. These they stick into
a post in the cattle-shed and squeeze them with their hands
till milk flows from them as freely as from the dugs of
a cow. At this time also wicked people turn themselves by
magic art into dogs and black cats, and in that disguise they
suck the milk of cows, mares, and ewes, while they slaughter
the bulls, horses, and rams.[1082]
335|St. George’s Day among the Ruthenians.|
The Ruthenians of Bukowina and Galicia believe that at
midnight before St. George’s Day (the twenty-third of April)
the witches come in bands of twelve to the hills at the
boundaries of the villages and there dance and play with fire.
Moreover, they cull on the mountains the herbs they need for
their infernal enchantments. Like the Esthonians and the
Russians, the Ruthenians drive their cattle out to pasture for
the first time on St. George’s Day; hence during the preceding
night the witches are very busy casting their spells
on the cows; and the farmer is at great pains to defeat
their fell purpose. With this intent many people catch
a snake, skin it, and fumigate the cows with the skin on the
eve of the saint’s day. To rub the udders and horns of the
cows with serpent’s fat is equally effective. Others strew
meal about the animals, saying, “Not till thou hast gathered
up this meal, shalt thou take the milk from my cow So-and-so.”
Further, sods of turf, with thorn-branches stuck in
them, are laid on the gate-posts; and crosses are painted
with tar on the doors. These precautions keep the witches
from the cows. If, however, a beast should after all be
bewitched, the farmer’s wife drags a rope about in the dew
on the morning of St. George’s Day. Then she chops it up
small, mixes salt with it, and scatters the bits among the
cow’s fodder. No sooner has the afflicted animal partaken
of this compound than the spell is broken.[1083]
|St. George’s Day among the Huzuls of the Carpathians.|
The Huzuls of the Carpathian Mountains believe that
when a cow gives milk tinged with blood, or no milk
at all, a witch is the cause of it. These maleficent beings
play their pranks especially on the eve of St. George’s Day
and on Midsummer Eve, but they are most dangerous at the
former season, for that night they and the foul fiends hold
their greatest gathering or sabbath. To steal the cows’
milk they resort to various devices. Sometimes they run
about in the shape of dogs and smell the cows’ udders.
Sometimes they rub the udders of their own cows with milk
taken from a neighbour’s kine; then their own cows yield
abundant milk, but the udders of the neighbour’s cows shrivel
up or give only blood. Others again make a wooden cow
336on the spot where the real cows are generally milked, taking
care to stick into the ground the knife they used in carving
the image. Then the wooden cow yields the witch all the
milk of the cattle which are commonly milked there, while
the owner of the beasts gets nothing but blood from them.
|Precautions taken by the Huzuls against the witches who try to
steal milk on the eve of St. George.|
Hence the Huzuls take steps to guard their cows from
the machinations of witches at this season. For this purpose
they kindle a great fire before the house on the eve of
St. George’s Day, using as fuel the dung which has accumulated
during the winter. Also they place on the gate-posts
clods in which are stuck the branches consecrated on Palm
Sunday or boughs of the silver poplar, the wood of which is
deemed especially efficacious in banning fiends. Moreover,
they make crosses on the doors, sprinkle the cows with mud,
and fumigate them with incense or the skin of a snake.
To tie red woollen threads round the necks or tails of the
animals is also a safeguard against witchcraft. And in June,
when the snow has melted and the cattle are led to the high
mountain pastures, the herds have no sooner reached their
summer quarters than the herdsman makes “living fire” by
the friction of wood and drives the animals over the ashes in
order to protect them against witches and other powers of
evil. The fire thus kindled is kept constantly burning in
the herdsman’s hut till with the chill of autumn the time
comes to drive the herds down the mountains again. If the
fire went out in the interval, it would be an ill omen for the
owner of the pastures.[1084]
|Sacrifice for horses in Silesia on St. George’s Day.|
In some parts of Silesia the might of the witches is
believed to be at the highest pitch on St. George’s Day.
The people deem the saint very powerful in the matter of
cattle-breeding and especially of horse-breeding. At the
Polish village of Ostroppa, not far from Gleiwitz, a sacrifice
for horses used to be offered at the little village church. It
has been described by an eye-witness. Peasants on horseback
streamed to the spot from all the neighbouring villages,
not with the staid and solemn pace of pilgrims, but with the
noise and clatter of merrymakers hastening to a revel. The
sorry image of the saint, carved in wood and about an ell
337high, stood in the churchyard on a table covered with a
white cloth. It represented him seated on horseback and
spearing the dragon. Beside it were two vessels to receive
offerings of money and eggs respectively. As each farmer
galloped up, he dismounted, led his horse by the bridle,
knelt before the image of the saint, and prayed. After that
he made his offering of money or eggs, according to his
means, in the name of his horse. Then he led the beast
round the church and churchyard, tethered it, and went into
the church to hear mass and a sermon. Having thus paid
his devotions to the saint, every man leaped into the saddle
and made for the nearest public-house as fast as his horse
could lay legs to the ground.[1085]
|Festival of St. George, as the patron of horses, at Ertringen in Bavaria.|
At Ertringen, in South Bavaria, there is a chapel of St.
George, where a festival of the saint used to be held on
April the twenty-fourth down to the beginning of the nineteenth
century. From the whole neighbourhood people
streamed thither on horseback and in waggons to take part
in the ceremony. More than fourteen hundred riders are
said to have been present on one occasion. The foundation
of the chapel was attributed to the monastery of Holy Cross
Vale (Heiligkreuztal), and the abbot and prior with their
suite attended the festival in state mounted on white horses.
A burgher of Ertringen had to ride as patron in the costume
of St. George, whom he represented. He alone
bestrode a fiery stallion. After the celebration of high mass
the horses were blessed at the chapel. Then the procession
of men on horseback moved round the common lands, winding
up at the parish church, where it broke up.[1086] In many
villages near Freiburg in Baden St. George is the patron of
horses, and in some parts of Baden the saint’s day (April
the twenty-third) is the season when cattle are driven out to
pasture for the first time in spring.[1087]
|St. George’s Day among the Saxons and Roumanians of Transylvania.|
The Saxons of Transylvania think that on the eve of
338St. George’s Day the witches ride on the backs of the cows
into the farmyard, if branches of wild rosebushes or other
thorny shrubs are not stuck over the gate of the yard to
keep them out.[1088] Beliefs and practices of this sort are shared
by the Roumanians of Transylvania. They hold that on
St. George’s Day the witches keep their sabbath in
sequestered spots, such as woodland glades, deserted farm-steadings,
and the like. In Walachia green sods are laid on
the window-sills and on the lintels of the doors to avert the
uncanny crew. But in Transylvania the Roumanians, not
content with setting a thorn-bush in the doorway of the
house, keep watch and ward all night beside the cattle or
elsewhere, to catch the witches who are at work stealing the
milk from the cows. Here, as elsewhere, the day is above
all the herdsman’s festival. It marks the beginning of
spring; the shepherds are preparing to start for the distant
pastures, and they listen with all their ears to some wiseacre
who tells them how, if the milk should fail in the
udders of the sheep, they have only to thrash the shepherd’s
pouch, and every stroke will fall on the witch who is
pumping the lost milk into her pails.[1089]
|St. George’s Day the herdsman’s festival among the Walachians.|
The Walachians look on St. George’s Day as very holy;
for they are mainly a pastoral folk, and St. George is the
patron of herds and herdsmen. On that day also, as well
as on the day before and the day after, the Walachian
numbers his herd, beginning at one and counting continuously
up to the total. This he never does at any other
time of the year. On this day, too, he milks his sheep
for the first time into vessels which have been carefully
scoured and are wreathed with flowers. Then too a cake of
white meal is baked in the shape of a ring, and is rolled on
the ground in sight of the herd; and from the length of its
course omens are drawn as to the good or bad luck of the
cattle in their summer pastures. If the herd is owned by
several men, they afterwards lay hold of the ring, and break
339it among them, and the one who gets the largest piece will
have the best luck. The milk is made into a cheese which
is divided; and the pieces of the cake are given to the
shepherds. In like manner the wreaths of flowers which
crowned the pails are thrown into the water, and from the
way in which they float down-stream the shepherds presage
good or evil fortune.[1090]
|St. George’s Day among the Bulgarians and South Slavs.|
The Bulgarians seem to share the belief that cattle are
especially exposed to the machinations of witches at this season,
for it is a rule with them not to give away milk, butter, or
cheese on the eve of St. George’s Day; to do so, they say,
would be to give away the profit of the milch kine.[1091] They
rise very early on the morning of this day, and wash themselves
in the dew, that they may be healthy.[1092] It is said, too,
that a regular sacrifice is still offered on St. George’s Day
in Bulgaria. An old man kills a ram, while girls spread
grass on which the blood is poured forth.[1093] The intention of
the sacrifice may be to make the herbage grow abundantly
in the pastures. Amongst the South Slavs the twenty-third
of April, St. George’s Day, is the chief festival of the
spring. The herdsman thinks that if his cattle are well on
that day they will thrive throughout the year. As we have
already seen,[1094] he crowns the horns of his cows with garlands
of flowers to guard them against witchcraft, and in the evening
the garlands are hung on the doors of the stalls, where they
remain until the next St. George’s Day. Early in the
morning of that day, when the herdsman drives the cows
from the byres, the housewife takes salt in one hand and a
potsherd with glowing coals in the other. She offers the
salt to the cow, and the beast must step over the smouldering
coals, on which various kinds of roses are smoking. This
deprives the witches of all power to harm the cow. On the
eve or the morning of the day old women cut thistles and
fasten them to the doors and gates of the farm; and they
make crosses with cow’s dung on the doors of the byres to
ward off the witches. Many knock great nails into the
340doors, which is thought to be a surer preventive even than
thistles. In certain districts the people cut thistles before
sunrise and put some on each other’s heads, some on the
fences, the windows, the doors, and some in the shape of
wreaths round the necks of the cows, in order that the
witches may be powerless to harm man and beast, house and
homestead, throughout the year. If, nevertheless, a witch
should contrive to steal through the garden fence and into
the byre, it is all over with the cows. A good housewife
will also go round her house and cattle-stalls early in the
morning of the fateful day and sprinkle them with holy
water. Another approved means of driving the witches
away is furnished by the froth which is shot from the spokes
of a revolving mill-wheel; for common-sense tells us that
just as the froth flies from the wheel, so the witches will
fly from our house, if only we apply the remedy in the right
way. And the right way is this. On the eve of St.
George’s Day you must send a child to fetch froth from the
mill, three stones from three cross-roads, three twigs of a
blackberry bush, three sprigs of beech, and three shoots of a
wild vine. Then you insert the plants in a buttered roll,
put the stones in the fire, boil the froth, toast the buttered
roll over the glowing stones, and speak these words: “The
blackberry twigs gather together, the beeches pull together,
but the foam from the wheel shakes all evil away.” Do
this, and you may take my word for it that no witch will be
able to charm away the milk from your cows.[1095]
|Precautions of the same sort are taken against wolves and witches whenever
the cattle are driven out to pasture for the first time in spring.|
Thus on the whole the festival of St. George at the
present day, like the Parilia of ancient Italy, is a ceremony
intended to guard the cattle against their real and their
imaginary foes, the wolves and the witches, at the critical
season when the flocks and herds are driven out to pasture
for the first time in spring. Precautions of the same sort
are naturally taken by the superstitious herdsman whenever,
the winter being over, he turns his herds out into the open
for the first time, whether it be on St. George’s Day or not.
Thus in Prussia and Lithuania, when the momentous
morning broke, the herd-boy ran from house to house in the
341village, knocked at the windows, and cried: “Put out the
fire, spin not, reel not, but drive the cattle out!” Meantime
the herdsman had fetched sand from the church, which
he strewed on the road by which the beasts must go from
the farmyard. At the same time he laid a woodcutter’s axe
in every doorway, with the sharp edge outwards, over which
the cows had to step. Then he walked in front of them,
speaking never a word, and paying no heed to the herd,
which was kept together by the herd-boys alone. His
thoughts were occupied by higher things, for he was busy
making crosses, blessing the cattle, and murmuring prayers,
till the pastures were reached. The axe in the doorway
signified that the wolf should flee from the herd as from the
sharp edge of the axe: the sand from the church betokened
that the cattle should not disperse and wander in the
meadows, but should keep as close together as people in
church.[1096]
|Swedish observances at turning out the cattle to graze after their winter confinement.|
In Sweden the cattle are confined almost wholly to their
stalls during the long and dreary northern winter; and the
first day in spring on which they are turned out into the
forest to graze has been from time immemorial a great
popular festival. The time of its celebration depends
more or less on the mildness or severity of the season.
For the most part it takes place about the middle of May.
On the preceding evening bonfires are kindled everywhere
in the forest, because so far as their flickering light extends
the cattle will be safe from the attacks of wild beasts
throughout the summer. For the same reason people go
about the woods that night firing guns, blowing horns, and
making all kinds of discordant noises. The mode of
celebrating the festival, which in some places is called the
feast of flowers, varies somewhat in different provinces. In
Dalsland the cattle are driven home that day from pasture
at noon instead of at evening. Early in the morning the
herd-boy repairs with the herd to the forest, where he decks
their horns with wreaths of flowers and provides himself
with a wand of the rowan or mountain-ash. During his
absence the girls pluck flowers, weave them into a garland,
342and hang it on the gate through which the cattle must pass
on their return from the forest. When they come back, the
herd-boy takes the garland from the gate, fastens it to the
top of his wand, and marches with it at the head of his
beasts to the hamlet. Afterwards the wand with the
garland on it is set up on the muck-heap, where it remains
all the summer. The intention of these ceremonies is not
said, but on the analogy of the preceding customs we may
conjecture that both the flowers and the rowan-wand are
supposed to guard the cattle against witchcraft. A little
later in the season, when the grass is well grown in the
forest, most of the cattle are sent away to the säter, or
summer pastures, of which every hamlet commonly has one
or more. These are clearings in the woods, and may be
many miles distant from the village. In Dalecarlia the
departure usually takes place in the first week of June. It
is a great event for the pastoral folk. An instinctive
longing seems to awaken both in the people and the beasts.
The preparations of the women are accompanied by the
bleating of the sheep and goats and the lowing of the
cattle, which make incessant efforts to break through the
pens near the house where they are shut up. Two or more
girls, according to the size of the herd, attend the cattle on
their migration and stay with them all the summer. Every
animal as it goes forth, whether cow, sheep, or goat, is
marked on the brow with a cross by means of a tar-brush
in order to protect it against evil spirits. But more
dangerous foes lie in wait for the cattle in the distant
pastures, where bears and wolves not uncommonly rush
forth on them from the woods. On such occasions the
herd-girls often display the utmost gallantry, belabouring
the ferocious beasts with sticks, and risking their own lives
in defence of the herds.[1097]
|These modern parallels throw light on some features of the Parilia.|
The foregoing customs, practised down to modern times
by shepherds and herdsmen with a full sense of their
meaning, throw light on some features of the Parilia which
might otherwise remain obscure. They seem to shew that
when the Italian shepherd hung green boughs on his folds,
343and garlands on his doors, he did so in order to keep the
witches from the ewes; and that in fumigating his flocks
with sulphur and driving them over a fire of straw he
sought to interpose a fiery barrier between them and the
powers of evil, whether these were conceived as witches or
mischievous spirits.
|Green George a personification of a spirit of trees or of vegetation in general.|
But St. George is more than a patron of cattle. The
mummer who dresses up in green boughs on the saint’s day
and goes by the name of Green George[1098] clearly personifies
the saint himself, and such a disguise is appropriate only to
a spirit of trees or of vegetation in general. As if to
make this quite clear, the Slavs of Carinthia carry a tree
decked with flowers in the procession in which Green
George figures; and the ceremonies in which the leaf-clad
masker takes a part plainly indicate that he is thought to
stand in intimate connexion with rain as well as with
cattle. This counterpart of our Jack in the Green is known
in some parts of Russia, and the Slovenes call him Green
George. Dressed in leaves and flowers, he appears in public
on St. George’s Day carrying a lighted torch in one hand
and a pie in the other. Thus arrayed he goes out to the
cornfields, followed by girls, who sing appropriate songs.
A circle of brushwood is then lighted, and the pie is set
in the middle of it. All who share in the ceremony
sit down around the fire, and the pie is divided among
them. The observance has perhaps a bearing on the cattle
as well as on the cornfields, for in some parts of Russia
when the herds go out to graze for the first time in spring a
pie baked in the form of a sheep is cut up by the chief
herdsman, and the bits are kept as a cure for the ills to
which sheep are subject.[1099]
|“Ringing out the grass” on St. George’s Day.|
At Schwaz, an old Tyrolese town in the lower valley
of the Inn, young lads assemble on St. George’s Day,
which is here the twenty-fourth of April, and having provided
themselves with bells, both large and small, they go
in procession ringing them to the various farms of the
neighbourhood, where they are welcomed and given milk to
drink. These processions, which take place in other parts
344of the Tyrol also, go by the name of “ringing out the grass”
(Grasausläuten), and it is believed that wherever the bell-ringers
come, there the grass grows and the crops will be
abundant. This beneficial effect appears to be ascribed to
the power of the bells to disperse the evil spirits, which are
thought to be rampant on St. George’s Day. For the
same purpose of averting demoniac influence at this
time, people in Salzburg and the neighbouring districts of
Upper Austria go in procession round the fields and stick
palm branches or small crosses in them; also they fasten
branches of the Prunus Padus, L., at the windows of the
houses and cattle-stalls.[1100] In some parts of Germany the
farmer looks to the height of his corn on St. George’s Day,
expecting that it should then be high enough to hide a
crow.[1101]
|St. George supposed to get barren women with child.|
Even when we have said that St. George of Eastern
Europe represents an old heathen deity of sheep, cattle,
horses, wolves, vegetation, and rain, we have not exhausted
all the provinces over which he is supposed to bear sway.
According to an opinion which appears to be widely spread,
he has the power of blessing barren women with offspring.
This belief is clearly at the root of the South Slavonian
custom, described above, whereby a childless woman hopes
to become a mother by wearing a shirt which has hung all
night on a fruitful tree on St. George’s Eve.[1102] Similarly, a
Bulgarian wife who desires to have a child will strike off a
serpent’s head on St. George’s Day, put a bean in its mouth,
and lay the head in a hollow tree or bury it in the earth at
a spot so far from the village that the crowing of the cocks
cannot be heard there. If the bean buds, her wishes will
be granted.[1103]
345|Love-charms practised among the Slavs on St. George’s Day.|
It is natural to suppose that a saint who can bestow
offspring can also bring fond lovers together. Hence
among the Slavs, with whom St. George is so popular, his
day is one of the seasons at which youths and maidens
resort to charms and divination in order to win or discover
the affections of the other sex. Thus, to take examples, a
Bohemian way of gaining a girl’s love is as follows. You
catch a frog on St. George’s Day, wrap it in a white cloth,
and put it in an ant-hill after sunset or about midnight.
The creature croaks terribly while the ants are gnawing the
flesh from its bones. When silence reigns again, you will
find nothing left of the frog but one little bone in the shape
of a hook and another little bone in the shape of a shovel.
Take the hook-shaped bone, go to the girl of your choice,
and hook her dress with the bone, and she will fall over
head and ears in love with you. If you afterwards tire of
her, you have only to touch her with the shovel-shaped
bone, and her affection will vanish as quickly as it came.[1104]
Again, at Ceklinj, in Crnagora, maidens go at break of day
on St. George’s morning to a well to draw water, and look
down into its dark depth till tears fill their eyes and they
fancy they see in the water the image of their future
husband.[1105] At Krajina, in Servia, girls who would pry into
the book of fate gather flowers in the meadows on the eve
of St. George, make them up into nosegays, and give to the
nosegays the names of the various lads whose hearts they
would win. Late at night they place the flowers by stealth
under the open sky, on the roof or elsewhere, and leave
them there till daybreak. The lad on whose nosegay most
dew has fallen will love the girl most truly throughout the
year. Sometimes mischievous young men secretly watch
these doings, and steal the bunches of flowers, which makes
sore hearts among the girls.[1106] Once more, in wooded
districts of Bohemia a Czech maiden will sometimes go out
on St. George’s Eve into an oak or beech forest and catch a
346young wild pigeon. It may be a ring-dove or a wood-pigeon,
but it must always be a male. She takes the bird
home with her, and covers it with a sieve or shuts it up in
a box that nobody may know what she is about. Having
kept and fed it till it can fly, she rises very early in the
morning, while the household is still asleep, and goes with
the dove to the hearth. Here she presses the bird thrice to
her bare breast, above her heart, and then lets it fly away
up the chimney, while she says:—
|St. George in Syria esteemed a giver of offspring to childless women.|
In the East, also, St. George is reputed to be a giver
of offspring to barren women, and in this character he is
revered by Moslems as well as Christians. His shrines may
be found in all parts of Syria; more places are associated
with him than with any other saint in the calendar. The
most famous of his sanctuaries is at Kalat el Hosn, in
Northern Syria. Childless women of all sects resort to it
in order that the saint may remove their reproach. Some
people shrug their shoulders when the shrine is mentioned
in this connexion. Yet many Mohammedan women who
desired offspring used to repair to it with the full consent
of their husbands. Nowadays the true character of the
place is beginning to be perceived, and many Moslems have
forbidden their wives to visit it.[1108] Such beliefs and practices
|The Syrian St. George may represent Tammuz.|
lend some colour to the theory that in the East the saint has
taken the place of Tammuz or Adonis.[1109]
347|In Europe St. George seems to have displaced an old Aryan
god of the spring, such as the Lithuanian Pergrubius.|
But we cannot suppose that the worship of Tammuz has
been transplanted to Europe and struck its roots deep among
the Slavs and other peoples in the eastern part of our continent.
Rather amongst them we must look for a native
Aryan deity who now masquerades in the costume of the
Cappadocian saint and martyr St. George. Perhaps we may
find him in the Pergrubius of the Lithuanians, a people who
retained their heathen religion later than any other branch
of the Aryan stock in Europe. This Pergrubius is described
as “the god of the spring,” as “he who makes leaves and
grass to grow,” or more fully as “the god of flowers, plants,
and all buds.” On St. George’s Day, the twenty-third of
April, the heathen Prussians and Lithuanians offered a sacrifice
to Pergrubius. A priest, who bore the title of Wurschait,
held in his hand a mug of beer, while he thus addressed the
deity: “Thou drivest away the winter; thou bringest back
the pleasant spring. By thee the fields and gardens are
green, by thee the groves and the woods put forth leaves.”
According to another version, the prayer ran as follows:
“Thou drivest the winter away, and givest in all lands
leaves and grass. We pray thee that thou wouldst make
our corn to grow and wouldst put down all weeds.” After
praying thus, the priest drank the beer, holding the mug
with his teeth, but not touching it with his hands. Then
without handling it he threw the mug backward over his
head. Afterwards it was picked up and filled again, and
all present drank out of it. They also sang a hymn in
praise of Pergrubius, and then spent the whole day in feasting
and dancing.[1110] Thus it appears that Pergrubius was a
Lithuanian god of the spring, who caused the grass and the
348corn to grow and the trees to burst into leaf. In this he
resembles Green George, the embodiment of the fresh
vegetation of spring, whose leaf-clad representative still
plays his pranks on the very same day in some parts of
Eastern Europe. Nothing, indeed, is said of the relation of
Pergrubius to cattle, and so far the analogy between him
and St. George breaks down. But our accounts of the old
Lithuanian mythology are few and scanty; if we knew more
about Pergrubius we might find that as a god or personification
of spring he, like St. George, was believed to exert all
the quickening powers of that genial season—in other
words, that his beneficent activity was not confined to clothing
the bare earth with verdure, but extended to the care
of the teeming flocks and herds, as well as to the propagation
of mankind. Certainly it is not easy to draw a sharp
line of division between the god who attends to cattle and
the god who provides the food on which they subsist.
|The Roman equivalent of St. George was Pales, who may have been
personated by the king at the Parilia.|
Thus Pergrubius may perhaps have been the northern
equivalent of the pastoral god Pales, who was worshipped by
the Romans only two days earlier at the spring festival of the
Parilia. It will be remembered that the Roman shepherds
prayed to Pales for grass and leaves, the very things which
it was the part of Pergrubius to supply. Is it too bold to
conjecture that in rural districts of Italy Pales may have
been personated by a leaf-clad man, and that in the early
age of Rome the duty of thus representing the god may
have been one of the sacred functions of the king? The
conjecture at least suggests a reason for the tradition that
Numa, the typical priestly king of Rome, was born on the
day of the Parilia.
CHAPTER XX THE WORSHIP OF THE OAK — § 1. The Diffusion of the Oak in Europe — § 2. The Aryan God of the Oak and the Thunder [1149]
349
|The Latin kings represented Jupiter, the god of the oak, the sky,
the thunder, and the rain.|
In a preceding chapter some reasons were given for
thinking that the early Latin kings posed as living representatives
of Jupiter, the god of the oak, the sky, the rain,
and the thunder, and that in this capacity they attempted
to exercise the fertilising functions which were ascribed to
the god. The probability of this view will be strengthened
if it can be proved that the same god was worshipped under
other names by other branches of the Aryan stock in
Europe, and that the Latin kings were not alone in arrogating
to themselves his powers and attributes. In this
chapter I propose briefly to put together a few of the
principal facts which point to this conclusion.
|Why should the god of the oak be also the god of the sky,
the thunder, and the rain?|
But at the outset a difficulty presents itself. To us the
oak, the sky, the rain, and the thunder appear things totally
distinct from each other. How did our forefathers come to
group them together and imagine them as attributes of one
and the same god? A connexion may be seen between
the sky, the rain, and the thunder; but what has any
of them to do with the oak? Yet one of these apparently
disparate elements was probably the original nucleus round
which in time the others gathered and crystallised into the
composite conception of Jupiter. Accordingly we must ask,
Which of them was the original centre of attraction? If
men started with the idea of an oak-god, how came they to
enlarge his kingdom by annexing to it the province of the
sky, the rain, and the thunder? If, on the other hand, they
350set out with the notion of a god of the sky, the rain, and
the thunder, or any one of them, why should they have
added the oak to his attributes? The oak is terrestrial;
the sky, the thunder, and the rain are celestial or aerial.
What is the bridge between the two?
|In the composite character of Jupiter the oak is probably primary, the sky,
the rain, and the thunder secondary and derivative.|
In the sequel I shall endeavour to shew that on the
principle of primitive thought the evolution of a sky-god
from an oak-god is more easily conceivable than the converse;
and if I succeed, it becomes probable that in the
composite character of Jupiter the oak is primary and
original, the sky, the rain, and the thunder secondary and
derivative.
|Europe covered with vast oak forests in prehistoric times.|
We have seen that long before the dawn of history
Europe was covered with vast primaeval woods, which must
have exercised a profound influence on the thought as well
as on the life of our rude ancestors who dwelt dispersed under
the gloomy shadow or in the open glades and clearings of
the forest.[1111] Now, of all the trees which composed these
woods the oak appears to have been both the commonest
and the most useful. The proof of this is drawn partly
from the statements of classical writers, partly from the
remains of ancient villages built on piles in lakes and
marshes, and partly from the oak forests which have been
found embedded in peat-bogs.
|Remains of oak forests found in peat-bogs.|
These bogs, which attain their greatest development in
Northern Europe, but are met with also in the central and
southern parts of the Continent, have preserved as in a
museum the trees and plants which sprang up and flourished
after the end of the glacial epoch. Thus in Scotland the
peat, which occupies wide areas both in the highlands and
lowlands, almost everywhere covers the remains of forests,
among which the commoner trees are pine, oak, and birch.
The oaks are of great size, and are found at heights above
the sea such as the tree would not now naturally attain to.
Equally remarkable for their size are the pines, but though
they also had a wider distribution than at present, they
appear not to have formed any extensive forests at the
lowest levels of the country. Still, remains of them have
been dug up in many lowland peat-mosses, where the bulk
351of the buried timber is oak.[1112] When Hatfield Moss in
Yorkshire was drained, there were found in it trunks of oak
a hundred feet long and as black as ebony. One giant
actually measured a hundred and twenty feet in length, with
a diameter of twelve feet at the root and six feet at the top.
No such tree now exists in Europe.[1113] Sunken forests and
peat occur at many places on the coasts of England, especially
on low shelving shores where the land falls away with
a gentle slope to the sea. These submerged areas were
once mud flats which, as the sea retreated from them,
gradually became clothed with dense forests, chiefly of oak
and Scotch fir, though ash, yew, alder, and other trees sooner
or later mingled with them.[1114] The great peat-bogs of
Ireland shew that there was a time when vast woods of oak
and yew covered the country, the oak growing on the hills
up to a height of four hundred feet or thereabout above the
sea, while at higher levels deal was the prevailing timber.
Human relics have often been discovered in these Irish bogs,
and ancient roadways made of oak have also come to light.[1115]
In the peat-bog near Abbeville, in the valley of the Somme,
trunks of oak have been dug up fourteen feet thick, a diameter
rarely met with outside the tropics in the old Continent.[1116]
|Former oak woods of Denmark and Scandinavia.|
At present the woods of Denmark consist for the most
part of magnificent beeches, which flourish here as luxuriantly
as anywhere in the world. Oaks are much rarer and appear
to be on the decline. Yet the evidence of the peat-bogs
proves that before the advent of the beech the country was
overspread with dense forests of tall and stately oaks. It
was during the ascendency of the oak in the woods that
bronze seems to have become known in Denmark; for
swords and shields of that metal, now in the museum of
Copenhagen, have been taken out of peat in which oaks
abound. Yet at a still earlier period the oak had been preceded
by the pine or Scotch fir in the Danish forests; and
352the discovery of neolithic implements in the peat-bogs shews
that savages of the Stone Age had their homes in these old
pine woods as well as in the later forests of oak. Some
antiquaries are of opinion that the Iron Age in Denmark
began with the coming of the beech, but of this there is no
evidence; for aught we know to the contrary the beautiful
beech forests may date back to the Age of Bronze.[1117] The
peat-bogs of Norway abound in buried timber; and in
many of them the trees occur in two distinct layers. The
lower of these layers consists chiefly of oak, hazel, ash, and
other deciduous trees; the upper is composed of Scotch firs
and birches. In the bogs of Sweden also the oak forests
underlie the pine forests.[1118] However, it appears to be doubtful
whether Scandinavia was inhabited in the age of the oak
woods. Neolithic tools have indeed been found in the peat,
but generally not deeper down than two feet or so; hence
one antiquary infers that in these bogs not more than two
feet of peat has formed within historical times.[1119] But
negative evidence on such a point goes for little, as only
a small portion of the bogs can have been explored.
|The ancient lake dwellings of Europe were built to a great
extent on oaken piles.|
Unequivocal proof of the prevalence of the oak and its
usefulness to man in early times is furnished by the remains
of the pile villages which have been discovered in many of
the lakes of Europe. In the British Islands the piles and
the platforms on which these crannogs or lake dwellings
rested appear to have been generally of oak, though fir,
birch, and other trees were sometimes used in their construction.
Speaking of the Irish and Scotch crannogs a
learned antiquary remarks: “Every variety of structure
observed in the one country is to be found in the other,
from the purely artificial island, framed of oak-beams,
mortised together, to the natural island, artificially fortified
or enlarged by girdles of oak-piles or ramparts of loose
stones.”[1120] Canoes hollowed out of trunks of oak have been
found both in the Scotch and in the Irish crannogs.[1121] In
353the lake dwellings of Switzerland and Central Europe the
piles are very often of oak, but by no means as uniformly
so as in the British Islands; fir, birch, alder, ash, elm, and
other timber were also employed for the purpose.[1122] That
the inhabitants of these villages subsisted partly on the produce
|The inhabitants of the lake dwellings subsisted partly on acorns.|
of the oak, even after they had adopted agriculture, is
proved by the acorns which have been found in their
dwellings along with wheat, barley, and millet, as well as
beech-nuts, hazel-nuts, and the remains of chestnuts and
cherries.[1123] In the valley of the Po the framework of logs
and planks which supports the prehistoric villages is most
commonly of elm wood, but evergreen oak and chestnut were
also used; and the abundance of oaks is attested by the
great quantities of acorns which were dug up in these settlements.
As the acorns were sometimes found stored in
earthenware vessels, it appears that they were eaten by the
people as well as by their pigs.[1124]
|Evidence of classical writers as to the oak forests of Europe.|
The evidence of classical writers proves that great oak
forests still existed down to their time in various parts of
Europe. Thus the Veneti on the Atlantic coast of Brittany
made their flat-bottomed boats out of oak timber, of which,
we are told, there was abundance in their country.[1125] Pliny
informs us that, while the whole of Germany was covered
with cool and shady woods, the loftiest trees were to be seen
not far from the country of the Chauci, who inhabited the
coast of the North Sea. Among these giants of the forest
he speaks especially of the oaks which grew on the banks
of two lakes. When the waves had undermined their roots,
the oaks are said to have torn away great portions of the
bank and floated like islands on the lakes.[1126] The same
|The oak woods of Germany.|354writer speaks of the vast Hercynian wood of Germany as an
oak forest, old as the world, untouched for ages, and passing
wonderful in its immortality. So huge were the trees, he
says, that when their roots met they were forced up above
ground in the shape of arches, through which a troop of
horse could ride as through an open gate.[1127] His testimony
as to the kind of trees which composed this famous forest
is confirmed by its name, which seems to mean no more
than “oak wood.”[1128] In the second century before our era
oak forests were still so common in the valley of the Po that
the herds of swine which browsed on the acorns sufficed to
|The oak woods of ancient Italy and Greece.|
supply the greater part of the demand for pork throughout
Italy, although nowhere in the world, according to Polybius,
were more pigs butchered to feed the gods, the people, and
the army.[1129] Elsewhere the same historian describes the
immense herds of swine which roamed the Italian oak
forests, especially on the coasts of Tuscany and Lombardy.
In order to sort out the different droves when they mingled
with each other in the woods, each swineherd carried a horn,
and when he wound a blast on it all his own pigs came
trooping to him with such vehemence that nothing could
stop them; for all the herds knew the note of their own
horn. In the oak forests of Greece this device was unknown,
and the swineherds there had harder work to come by their
own when the beasts had strayed far in the woods, as they
were apt to do in autumn while the acorns were falling.[1130]
Down to the beginning of our era oak woods were interspersed
among the olive groves and vineyards of the Sabine
country in central Italy.[1131] Among the beautiful woods
which clothed the Heraean mountains in Sicily the oaks
were particularly remarked for their stately growth and the
great size of their acorns.[1132] In the second century after
355Christ the oak forests of Arcadia still harboured wild boars,
bears, and huge tortoises in their dark recesses.[1133]
|The oak still the chief forest tree of Europe.|
Even now the predominance of the oak as the principal
forest tree of Europe has hardly passed away. Thus we
are told that among the leaf-bearing trees of Greece, as
opposed to the conifers, the oak still plays by far the most
important part in regard both to the number of the individuals
and the number of the species.[1134] And the British
oak in particular (Quercus robur) is yet the prevailing tree
in most of the woods of France, Germany, and southern
Russia, while in England the coppice and the few fragments
of natural forest still left are mainly composed of this
species.[1135]
|In Europe acorns have been used as human food both in ancient
and modern times.|
Thus the old classical tradition that men lived upon
acorns before they learned to till the ground[1136] may very well
be founded on fact. Indeed acorns were still an article of
diet in some parts of southern Europe within historical
times. Speaking of the prosperity of the righteous, Hesiod
declares that for them the earth bears much substance,
and the oak on the mountains puts forth acorns.[1137] The
Arcadians in their oak-forests were proverbial for eating
acorns,[1138] but not the acorns of all oaks, only those of a particular
sort.[1139] Pliny tells us that in his day acorns still
constituted the wealth of many nations, and that in time of
dearth they were ground and baked into bread.[1140] According
to Strabo, the mountaineers of Spain subsisted on acorn
bread for two-thirds of the year;[1141] and in that country
acorns were served up as a second course even at the meals
of the well-to-do.[1142] In the same regions the same practice
356|Acorns as food in modern Europe.|
has survived to modern times. The commonest and finest
oak of modern Greece is the Quercus Aegilops, with a
beautiful crown of leaves, and the peasants eat its acorns
both roasted and raw.[1143] The sweeter acorns of the Quercus
Ballota also serve them as food, especially in Arcadia.[1144] In
Spain people eat the acorns of the evergreen oak (Quercus
Ilex), which are known as bellotas, and are said to be much
larger and more succulent than the produce of the British oak.
The duchess in Don Quixote writes to Sancho’s wife to send
her some of them. But oaks are now few and far between
in La Mancha.[1145] Even in England and France acorns have
been boiled and eaten by the poor as a substitute for bread
in time of dearth.[1146] And naturally the use of acorns as food
for swine has also lasted into modern times. It is on acorns
that those hogs are fattened in Estremadura which make the
famous Montanches hams.[1147] Large herds of swine in all the
great oak woods of Germany depend on acorns for their
autumn subsistence; and in the remaining royal forests of
England the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages still
claim their ancient right of pannage, turning their hogs into
the woods in October and November.[1148]
|The many benefits received by the ancient Aryans from the
oak naturally led them to worship the tree.|
Thus we may conclude that the primitive Aryans of
Europe lived among oak woods, used oak sticks for the
lighting of their fires, and oak timber for the construction of
357their villages, their roads, their canoes, fed their swine on
acorns, and themselves subsisted in part on the same simple
diet. No wonder, then, if the tree from which they received
so many benefits should play an important part in their
religion, and should be invested with a sacred character.
We have seen that the worship of trees has been world-wide,
and that, beginning with a simple reverence and dread of
the tree as itself animated by a powerful spirit, it has
|The worship of the tree itself gradually grew into a worship of the god
of the tree, but no sharp line of distinction can be drawn between the two.|
gradually grown into a cult of tree gods and tree goddesses,
who with the advance of thought become more and more
detached from their old home in the trees, and assume the
character of sylvan deities and powers of fertility in general,
to whom the husbandman looks not merely for the prosperity
of his crops, but for the fecundity of his cattle and his women.
Where this evolution has taken place it has necessarily been
slow and long. Though it is convenient to distinguish in
theory between the worship of trees and the worship of gods
of the trees, it is impossible to draw a hard and fast line
between them in practice, and to say, “Here the one begins
and the other ends.” Such distinctions, however useful they
may be as heads of classification to the student, evade in
general the duller wit of the tree worshipper. We cannot
therefore hope to lay our finger on that precise point in the
history of the Aryans when they ceased to worship the oak
for its own sake, and began to worship a god of the oak.
That point, if it were ideally possible to mark it, had doubtless
been left far behind them by the more intelligent, at
least, of our forefathers before they emerged into the light of
history. We must be content for the most part to find
among them gods of whom the oak was an attribute or
sacred adjunct rather than the essence. If we wish to find
the original worship of the tree itself we must go for it to
the ignorant peasantry of to-day, not to the enlightened
writers of antiquity. Further, it is to be borne in mind
that while all oaks were probably the object of superstitious
awe, so that the felling of any of them for timber or firewood
would be attended with ceremonies designed to appease the
injured spirit of the tree,[1150] only certain particular groves or
individual oaks would in general receive that measure of
358homage which we should term worship. The reasons which
led men to venerate some trees more than others might be
various. Amongst them the venerable age and imposing
size of a giant oak would naturally count for much. And
any other striking peculiarity which marked a tree off from
its fellows would be apt to attract the attention, and to concentrate
on itself the vague superstitious awe of the savage.
We know, for example, that with the Druids the growth of
mistletoe on an oak was a sign that the tree was especially
sacred; and the rarity of this feature—for mistletoe does not
commonly grow on oaks—would enhance the sanctity and
mystery of the tree. For it is the strange, the wonderful,
the rare, not the familiar and commonplace, which excites
the religious emotions of mankind.
|The worship of the oak tree or of the oak god seems to have been
common to all the Aryans of Europe.|
The worship of the oak tree or of the oak god appears
to have been shared by all the branches of the Aryan stock
in Europe. Both Greeks and Italians associated the tree
|Worship of the oak in Greece; its association with Zeus.|
with their highest god, Zeus or Jupiter, the divinity of the
sky, the rain, and the thunder.[1151] Perhaps the oldest and
certainly one of the most famous sanctuaries in Greece was
that of Dodona, where Zeus was revered in the oracular
oak.[1152] The thunder-storms which are said to rage at
Dodona more frequently than anywhere else in Europe,[1153]
would render the spot a fitting home for the god whose
voice was heard alike in the rustling of the oak leaves and
in the crash of thunder. Perhaps the bronze gongs which
kept up a humming in the wind round the sanctuary[1154] were
359meant to mimick the thunder that might so often be heard
rolling and rumbling in the coombs of the stern and barren
mountains which shut in the gloomy valley.[1155] In Boeotia,
as we have seen, the sacred marriage of Zeus and Hera, the
oak god and the oak goddess, was celebrated with much
pomp by a religious federation of states.[1156] And on Mount
Lycaeus in Arcadia the character of Zeus as god both of
the oak and of the rain comes out clearly in the rain charm
practised by the priest of Zeus, who dipped an oak branch
in a sacred spring.[1157]
|Zeus as the rain god of the Greeks.|
In his latter capacity Zeus was the god to whom the
Greeks regularly prayed for rain. Nothing could be more
natural; for often, though not always, he had his seat on
the mountains where the clouds gather and the oaks grow.
On the acropolis at Athens there was an image of Earth
praying to Zeus for rain.[1158] And in time of drought the
Athenians themselves prayed, “Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, on
the cornland of the Athenians and on the plains.”[1159] The
mountains which lay round their city, and to which they
looked through the clear Attic air for signs of the weather,
were associated by them with the worship of the weather-god
Zeus. It was a sign of rain when, away to sea, a cloud
rested on the sharp peak of Aegina, which cuts the sky-line
like a blue horn.[1160] On this far-seen peak Panhellenian Zeus
was worshipped,[1161] and legend ran that once, when all Greece
was parched with drought, envoys assembled in Aegina from
every quarter and entreated Aeacus, the king of the island,
that he would intercede with his father Zeus for rain. The
king complied with the request, and by sacrifices and prayers
wrung the needed showers from his sire the sky-god.[1162]
360|Zeus as the god of fertility.|
Again, it was a sign of rain at Athens when clouds in
summer lay on the top or the sides of Hymettus,[1163] the chain
of barren mountains which bounds the Attic plain on the east,
facing the westering sun and catching from his last beams
a solemn glow of purple light. If during a storm a long
bank of clouds was seen lowering on the mountain, it meant
that the storm would increase in fury.[1164] Hence an altar
of Showery Zeus stood on Hymettus.[1165] Again, omens of
weather were drawn when lightning flashed or clouds hung
on the top of Mount Parnes to the north of Athens;[1166] and
there accordingly an altar was set up to sign-giving Zeus.[1167]
The climate of eastern Argolis is dry, and the rugged
mountains are little better than a stony waterless wilderness.
On one of them, named Mount Arachnaeus, or the Spider
Mountain, stood altars of Zeus and Hera, and when rain
was wanted the people sacrificed there to the god and
goddess.[1168] On the ridge of Mount Tmolus, near Sardes,
there was a spot called the Birthplace of Rainy Zeus,[1169] probably
because clouds resting on it were observed to presage
rain. The members of a religious society in the island of
Cos used to go in procession and offer sacrifices on an altar
of Rainy Zeus, when the thirsty land stood in need of refreshing
showers.[1170] Thus conceived as the source of fertility,
it was not unnatural that Zeus should receive the title of
the Fruitful One,[1171] and that at Athens he should be worshipped
under the surname of the Husbandman.[1172]
|Zeus as the god of thunder and lightning.|
Again, Zeus wielded the thunder and lightning as well
361as the rain.[1173] At Olympia and elsewhere he was worshipped
under the surname of Thunderbolt;[1174] and at Athens there was
a sacrificial hearth of Lightning Zeus on the city wall, where
some priestly officials watched for lightning over Mount
Parnes at certain seasons of the year.[1175] Further, spots which
had been struck by lightning were regularly fenced in by
the Greeks and consecrated to Zeus the Descender, that is,
to the god who came down in the flash from heaven.
Altars were set up within these enclosures and sacrifices
offered on them. Several such places are known from
inscriptions to have existed in Athens.[1176]
|The Greek kings personified Zeus, as the Italian kings personified Jupiter.|
Thus when ancient Greek kings claimed to be descended
from Zeus, and even to bear his name,[1177] we may reasonably
suppose that they also attempted to exercise his divine
functions by making thunder and rain for the good of their
people or the terror and confusion of their foes. In this
respect the legend of Salmoneus[1178] probably reflects the pretensions
of a whole class of petty sovereigns who reigned of
old, each over his little canton, in the oak-clad highlands of
Greece. Like their kinsmen the Irish kings, they were expected
to be a source of fertility to the land and of fecundity
to the cattle;[1179] and how could they fulfil these expectations
better than by acting the part of their kinsman Zeus, the
great god of the oak, the thunder, and the rain? They
personified him, apparently, just as the Italian kings personified
Jupiter.[1180]
|Jupiter in Italy as the god of the oak, the thunder, and the rain.|
In ancient Italy every oak was sacred to Jupiter,
the Italian counterpart of Zeus;[1181] and on the Capitol at
Rome the god was worshipped as the deity not merely
of the oak, but of the rain and the thunder.[1182] Contrasting
362the piety of the good old times with the scepticism
of an age when nobody thought that heaven was heaven, or
cared a fig for Jupiter, a Roman writer tells us that in former
days noble matrons used to go with bare feet, streaming
hair, and pure minds, up the long Capitoline slope, praying
to Jupiter for rain. And straightway, he goes on, it rained
bucketsful, then or never, and everybody returned dripping
like drowned rats. “But nowadays,” says he, “we are no
longer religious, so the fields lie baking.”[1183] And as Jupiter
conjured up the clouds and caused them to discharge their
genial burden on the earth, so he drove them away and
brought the bright Italian sky back once more. Hence he
was worshipped under the titles of the Serene, he who
restores serenity.[1184] Lastly, as god of the fertilising showers
|Jupiter as the god of fertility.|
he made the earth to bring forth; so people called him the
Fruitful One.[1185]
|The god of the oak and the thunder among the northern Aryans.|
When we pass from southern to central Europe we still
meet with the great god of the oak and the thunder among
the barbarous Aryans who dwelt in the vast primaeval
forests.[1186] Thus among the Celts of Gaul the Druids esteemed
nothing more sacred than the mistletoe and the oak on which
it grew; they chose groves of oaks for the scene of their
solemn service, and they performed none of their rites without
oak leaves.[1187] “The Celts,” says a Greek writer, “worship
|Celtic worship of the oak.|
Zeus, and the Celtic image of Zeus is a tall oak.”[1188] The
363Celtic conquerors who settled in Asia in the third century
before our era appear to have carried the worship of the
oak with them to their new home; for in the heart of Asia
Minor the Galatian senate met in a place which bore the
pure Celtic name of Drynemetum, “the sacred oak grove”
or “the temple of the oak.”[1189] Indeed the very name of
Druids is believed by good authorities to mean no more than
“oak men.”[1190] When Christianity displaced Druidism in
Ireland, the churches and monasteries were sometimes built
in oak groves or under solitary oaks,[1191] the choice of the site
|Traces of sacred oaks in Ireland.|
being perhaps determined by the immemorial sanctity of the
trees, which might predispose the minds of the converts to
receive with less reluctance the teaching of the new faith.[1192]
But there is no positive evidence that the Irish Druids performed
their rites, like their Gallic brethren, in oak groves,[1193] so
that the inference from the churches of Kildare, Derry, and
the rest is merely a conjecture based on analogy.
In the religion of the ancient Germans the veneration
for sacred groves seems to have held the foremost place,[1194] and
364according to Grimm the chief of their holy trees was the
oak.[1195] It appears to have been especially dedicated to the
|The Teutonic god of the oak and the thunder.|
god of thunder, Donar or Thunar, the equivalent of the Norse
Thor; for a sacred oak near Geismar, in Hesse, which
Boniface cut down in the eighth century, went among the
heathen by the name of Jupiter’s oak (robur Jovis), which in
old German would be Donares eih, “the oak of Donar.”[1196]
That the Teutonic thunder god Donar, Thunar, Thor was
identified with the Italian thunder god Jupiter appears from
our word Thursday, Thunar’s day, which is merely a rendering
of the Latin dies Jovis.[1197] Thus among the ancient
Teutons, as among the Greeks and Italians, the god of the
oak was also the god of the thunder. Moreover, he was
regarded as the great fertilising power, who sent rain and
caused the earth to bear fruit; for Adam of Bremen tells
us that “Thor presides in the air; he it is who rules thunder
and lightning, wind and rains, fine weather and crops.”[1198] In
these respects, therefore, the Teutonic thunder god again
resembled his southern counterparts Zeus and Jupiter. And
like them Thor appears to have been the chief god of the
pantheon; for in the great temple at Upsala his image
|The worship of Thor at Upsala.|
occupied the middle place between the images of Odin and
Frey,[1199] and in oaths by this or other Norse trinities he was
always the principal deity invoked.[1200] Beside the temple at
Upsala there was a sacred grove, but the kinds of trees
which grew in it are not known. Only of one tree are we
told that it was of mighty size, with great spreading branches,
and that it remained green winter and summer alike. Here
too was a spring where sacrifices were offered. They used
to plunge a living man into the water, and if he disappeared
they drew a favourable omen. Every nine years, at the
spring equinox, a great festival was held at Upsala in honour
of Thor, the god of thunder, Odin, the god of war, and Frey,
365the god of peace and pleasure. The ceremonies lasted nine
days. Nine male animals of every sort were sacrificed, that
their blood might appease the gods. Each day six victims
were slaughtered, of whom one was a man. Their bodies
were fastened to the trees of the grove, where dogs and
horses might be seen hanging beside men.[1201]
|Perun, the god of the oak and the thunder among the Slavs.|
Amongst the Slavs also the oak appears to have been
the sacred tree of the thunder god Perun, the counterpart of
Zeus and Jupiter.[1202] It is said that at Novgorod there used
to stand an image of Perun in the likeness of a man with a
thunder-stone in his hand. A fire of oak wood burned day
and night in his honour; and if ever it went out the attendants
paid for their negligence with their lives.[1203] Perun seems, like
Zeus and Jupiter, to have been the chief god of his people;
for Procopius tells us that the Slavs “believe that one god,
the maker of lightning, is alone lord of all things, and they
sacrifice to him oxen and every victim.”[1204]
|Perkunas, the chief Lithuanian god.|
The chief deity of the Lithuanians was Perkunas or
Perkuns, the god of thunder and lightning, whose resemblance
to Zeus and Jupiter has often been pointed out.[1205] Oaks
366were sacred to him, and when they were cut down by the
Christian missionaries, the people loudly complained that
their sylvan deities were destroyed.[1206] Perpetual fires, kindled
with the wood of certain oak-trees, were kept up in honour
of Perkunas; if such a fire went out, it was lighted again
by friction of the sacred wood.[1207] Men sacrificed to oak-trees
for good crops, while women did the same to lime-trees;
367from which we may infer that they regarded oaks as male
and lime-trees as female.[1208] And in time of drought, when
they wanted rain, they used to sacrifice a black heifer, a
black he-goat, and a black cock to the thunder-god in the
depths of the woods. On such occasions the people
assembled in great numbers from the country round about,
ate and drank, and called upon Perkunas. They carried a
bowl of beer thrice round the fire, then poured the liquor on
the flames, while they prayed to the god to send showers.[1209]
Thus the chief Lithuanian deity presents a close resemblance
to Zeus and Jupiter, since he was the god of the oak, the
thunder, and the rain.[1210]
|The god of the oak and the thunder among the Esthonians.|
Wedged in between the Lithuanians and the Slavs are
the Esthonians, a people who do not belong to the Aryan
family. But they also shared the reverence for the oak,
and associated the tree with their thunder-god Taara, the
deity of their pantheon, whom they called “Old
Father,” or “Father of Heaven.”[1211] It is said that down to
the beginning of the nineteenth century Esthonians used to
smear the holy oaks, lime-trees, and ash-trees with the fresh
blood of animals at least once a year.[1212] The following prayer
to thunder is instructive, because it shews how easily thunder,
through its association with rain, may appear to the rustic
368mind in the character of a beneficent and fertilising power.
It was taken down from the lips of an Esthonian peasant
|Esthonian prayer to thunder.|
in the seventeenth century. “Dear Thunder,” he prayed, “we
sacrifice to thee an ox, which has two horns and four claws,
and we would beseech thee for the sake of our ploughing
and sowing, that our straw may be red as copper, and our
corn yellow as gold. Drive somewhere else all black, thick
clouds over great marshes, high woods, and wide wastes.
But to us ploughmen and sowers give a fruitful time and
sweet rain. Holy Thunder, guard our fields, that they may
bear good straw below, good ears above, and good grain
within.”[1213] Sometimes in time of great drought an Esthonian
farmer would carry beer thrice round a sacrificial fire, then
pour it on the flames with a prayer that the thunder-god
would be pleased to send rain.[1214]
|Parjanya, the old Indian god of thunder, rain, and fertility.|
In like manner, Parjanya, the old Indian god of thunder
and rain, whose name is by some scholars identified with
the Lithuanian Perkunas,[1215] was conceived as a deity of
fertility, who not only made plants to germinate, but caused
cows, mares, and women to conceive. As the power who
impregnated all things, he was compared to a bull, an animal
which to the primitive herdsman is the most natural type of
the procreative energies. Thus in a hymn of the Rigveda
it is said of him:—
“The Bull, loud roaring, swift to send his bounty, lays in the plants the seed for germination.
He smites the trees apart, he slays the demons: all life fears him who wields the mighty weapon.
From him exceeding strong flees e’en the guiltless when thundering Parjanya smites the wicked.
“Like a car-driver whipping on his horses, he makes the messengers of rain spring forward.
Far off resounds the roaring of the lion what time Parjanya fills the sky with rain-cloud.
Forth burst the winds, down come the lightning-flashes: the plants shoot up, the realm of light is streaming.
Food springs abundant for all living creatures what time Parjanya quickens earth with moisture.”[1216]
369In another hymn Parjanya is spoken of as “giver of growth
to plants, the god who ruleth over the waters and all moving
creatures,” and it is said that “in him all living creatures
have their being.” Then the poet goes on:—
“May this my song to sovran lord Parjanya come near unto his heart and give him pleasure.
May we attain the showers that bring enjoyment, and god-protected plants with goodly fruitage.
He is the Bull of all, and their impregner: he holds the life of all things fixed and moving.”[1217]
And in yet another hymn we read:—
“Sing forth and laud Parjanya, son of Heaven, who sends the gift of rain:
May he provide our pasturage.
Parjanya is the god who forms in kine, in mares, in plants of earth
In short, “Parjanya is a god who presides over the lightning,
the thunder, the rain, and the procreation of plants and living
creatures. But it is by no means clear whether he is originally
a god of the rain, or a god of the thunder. For, as both phenomena
are always associated in India, either of the two opinions
is admissible, if no deciding evidence comes from another
quarter.”[1219] On this point something will be said presently.
Here it is enough to have indicated the ease with which the
notion of the thunder-god passes into, or is combined with,
the idea of a god of fertility in general.
|God of thunder, rain, and fertility among the Iroquois.|
The same combination meets us in Heno, the thunder-spirit
of the Iroquois. His office was not only to hurl his
bolts at evil-doers, but to cool and refresh the ground with
showers, to ripen the harvest, and to mature the fruits of
the earth. In spring, when they committed the seeds
to the soil, the Indians prayed to him that he would
water them and foster their growth: and at the harvest
370festival they thanked him for his gift of rain.[1220] The Hos
|Goddess of lightning, rain, and fertility among the Hos.|
of Togoland in West Africa distinguish two deities of the
lightning, a god Sogble and a goddess Sodza, who are
husband and wife and talk with each other in the sound of
thunder. The goddess has epithets applied to her which
seem to shew that she is believed to send the rain and to
cause the plants to grow. She is addressed as “Mother of
men and beasts, ship full of yams, ship full of the most
varied fullness.” Further, it is said to be she who blesses
the tilled land. Moreover, like the Hindoo thunder-god
Parjanya, who slays demons, the Ho thunder-goddess drives
away evil spirits and witches from people’s houses; under
her protection children multiply and the inmates of the
house remain healthy.[1221] The Indians of the Andes, about
|Gods of thunder, rain, and fertility among the Indians of the
Andes and the Abchases of the Caucasus.|
Lake Titicaca, believe in a thunder-god named Con or Cun,
whom they call the “lord” or “father” of the mountains
(Ccollo-auqui). He is regarded as a powerful being, but
irritable and difficult of access, who dwells on the high
mountains above the line of perpetual snow. Yet he gives
great gifts to those who win his favour; and when the
crops are languishing for lack of rain, the Indians try to
rouse the god from his torpor by pouring a small libation of
brandy into a tarn below the snow-line; for they dare not
set foot on the snow lest they should meet the dreadful
thunder-god face to face. His bird is the condor as the
eagle was the bird of the Greek thunder-god Zeus.[1222] Similarly
in time of drought the Abchases of the Caucasus
sacrifice an ox to Ap-hi, the god of thunder and lightning,
and an old man prays him to send rain, thunder, and
lightning, telling him that the crops are parched, the grass
burnt up, and the cattle starving.[1223] These examples shew
how readily a thunder-god may come to be viewed as a
power of fertility; the connecting link is furnished by the
fertilising rain which usually accompanies a thunder-storm.
|Traces of the worship of the oak in modern Europe.|
As might have been expected, the ancient worship of
the oak in Europe has left its print in popular custom and
371superstition down to modern times. Thus in the French
department of Maine it is said that solitary oak-trees in the
fields are still worshipped, though the priests have sought to
give the worship a Christian colour by hanging images of
saints on the trees.[1224] In various parts of Lower Saxony and
Westphalia, as late as the first half of the nineteenth century,
traces survived of the sanctity of certain oaks, to which the
people paid a half-heathenish, half-Christian worship. In
the principality of Minden young people of both sexes used
to dance round an old oak on Easter Saturday with loud
shouts of joy. And not far from the village of Wormeln,
in the neighbourhood of Paderborn, there stood a holy oak
in the forest, to which the inhabitants of Wormeln and
Calenberg went every year in solemn procession.[1225] Another
vestige of superstitious reverence for the oak in Germany is
the custom of passing sick people and animals through a
natural or artificial opening in the trunk of an oak for the
purpose of healing them of their infirmities.[1226] At a village
near Ragnit in East Prussia there was an oak which, down
to the seventeenth century, the villagers regarded as sacred,
firmly believing that any person who harmed it would be
visited with misfortune, especially with some bodily ailment.[1227]
About the middle of the nineteenth century the Lithuanians
still laid offerings for spirits under ancient oaks;[1228] and old-fashioned
people among them preferred to cook the viands
for funeral banquets on a fire of oak-wood, or at least under
an oak-tree.[1229] On the rivulet Micksy, between the governments
of Pskov and Livonia in Russia, there stood a stunted,
|Worship of the oak in modern Russia.|
withered, but holy oak, which received the homage of the
neighbouring peasantry down at least to 1874. An eye-witness
has described the ceremonies. He found a great
crowd of people, chiefly Esthonians of the Greek Church,
assembled with their families about the tree, all dressed in
372gala costume. Some of them had brought wax candles and
were fastening them about the trunk and in the branches.
Soon a priest arrived, and, having donned his sacred robes,
proceeded to sing a canticle, such as is usually sung in the
Orthodox Church in honour of saints. But instead of saying
as usual, “Holy saint, pray the Lord for us,” he said, “Holy
Oak Hallelujah, pray for us.” Then he incensed the tree
all round. During the service the tapers on the oak were
lighted, and the people, throwing themselves on the ground,
adored the holy tree. When the pastor had retired, his
flock remained till late at night, feasting, drinking, dancing,
and lighting fresh tapers on the oak, till everybody was
drunk and the proceedings ended in an orgy.[1230]
|Ceremonial fires kindled by the friction of oak-wood.|
Another relic of the ancient sanctity of the oak has survived
to modern times in the practice of kindling ceremonial
fires by means of the friction of oak-wood. This has been
done, either at stated seasons of the year or on occasions of
distress, by Slavs, Germans, and Celts.[1231] Taken together with
the perpetual sacred fires of oak-wood which we have found
among the Slavs, the Lithuanians, and the ancient Romans,[1232]
the wide prevalence of the practice seems clearly to point
back to a time when the forefathers of the Aryans in Europe
dwelt in forests of oak, fed their fires with oak-wood, and
rekindled them, when they chanced to go out, by rubbing
two oaken sticks against each other.
|In the great European god of the oak, the thunder, and the rain, the
original element seems to have been the oak.|
From the foregoing survey of the facts it appears that a
god of the oak, the thunder, and the rain was worshipped of
old by all the main branches of the Aryan stock in Europe,
and was indeed the chief deity of their pantheon.[1233] It was
natural enough that the oak should loom large in the religion
373of people who lived in oak forests, used oak timber for building,
oak sticks for fuel, and oak acorns for food and fodder;
but we have still to explain how they were led to associate the
thunder and the rain with the oak in their conception of this
great divinity. From the nature of the case our solution of
the problem must be conjectural; we can only guess at the
|The clue to the development of a lightning-god out of an oak-god may
have been the notion that the heavenly fire or lightning was made, like the
earthly fire, by the friction of oak-wood.|
train of thought which prompted our forefathers to link
together things which to us seem so very different.
Thunder and rain may indeed naturally be regarded as
akin since the two so often occur together; but the difficulty
is to understand why the oak should be joined with
them. Which of the three elements was the original nucleus
about which the others afterwards clustered? In our
ignorance of the facts, this question amounts to asking
whether, on the principles of savage thought, it is easier to
suppose that an original god of thunder and rain should
afterwards add the oak-tree to his attributes, or that, on the
contrary, an old god of the oak should annex to himself the
thunder and the rain? In favour of the first of these
suppositions it may be said that a god of thunder and rain
might in time be regarded as a god of the oak, because
thunder and rain come from the sky, and the oak reaches
skyward and is often struck by lightning.[1234] But this train of
thought is hardly likely to carry conviction even to the mind
of a savage. On the other hand, it is not difficult to imagine
how early man in Europe might suppose the thunder, or
rather the lightning, to be derived from the oak. Seeing
that fire on earth was regularly kindled by the rubbing of
oaken sticks together, he might readily infer that fire in
heaven was produced in like manner; in other words, that
the flash of lightning was the spark elicited by some one who
was lighting his fire in the usual fashion up aloft; for the
374savage commonly explains natural phenomena by ideas
drawn from the circle of his own daily life. Similarly,
people who are accustomed to make fire by means of
flints sometimes suppose that lightning is produced in the
same way. This is reported of the Armenians,[1235] and it may
be inferred of the many peoples who believe that the flint
implements of prehistoric races are thunder-bolts.[1236]
|When an oak-god had once grown into a lightning-god, he would
easily develop into a god of the rain and the sky.|
Thus it is easy to conceive how a god of the oak, viewed
as the source of earthly fire, should come to be regarded as
a god of the lightning, and hence, by an easy extension of
ideas, as a god of thunder and rain. Accordingly we may
provisionally assume that the great Aryan gods who combine
these various functions have been evolved in this fashion.
A further step in their promotion would be taken when the
whole sky was assigned to their dominion. The Greeks and
Italians certainly advanced their Zeus and Jupiter to this
lofty position;[1237] but there seems to be no evidence that the
Aryans of the north ever raised their corresponding deities
375to the rank of sky-gods in general. It is commonly indeed
assumed that the sky was the original province of all these
deities, or rather of the single Aryan god from which they
are descended. But on this theory it is hard to see why the
god of the sky should have taken up with the oak, and not
only that, but should have clung to it even after he had, in
some places at least, begun to sit very loose to his old home,
the vault of heaven. Surely his fidelity to the oak from the
earliest to the latest times among all the different families of
his European worshippers is a strong argument for regarding
the tree as the primary, not a secondary, element in his
composite nature.
CHAPTER XXI DIANUS AND DIANA
376
|Recapitulation.|
In this chapter I propose to recapitulate the conclusions to
which the enquiry has thus far led us, and drawing together
the scattered rays of light, to turn them on the dark figure
of the priest of Nemi.
|Rise of sacred kings, who are supposed to be endowed
with magical or divine powers.|
We have found that at an early stage of society men,
ignorant of the secret processes of Nature and of the narrow
limits within which it is in our power to control and direct
them, have commonly arrogated to themselves functions
which in the present state of knowledge we should deem
superhuman or divine. The illusion has been fostered and
maintained by the same causes which begot it, namely,
the marvellous order and uniformity with which Nature
conducts her operations, the wheels of her great machine
revolving with a smoothness and precision which enable
the patient observer to anticipate in general the season,
if not the very hour, when they will bring round the
fulfilment of his hopes or the accomplishment of his fears.
The regularly recurring events of this great cycle, or
rather series of cycles, soon stamp themselves even on the
dull mind of the savage. He foresees them, and foreseeing
them mistakes the desired recurrence for an effect
of his own will, and the dreaded recurrence for an effect of
the will of his enemies. Thus the springs which set the vast
machine in motion, though they lie far beyond our ken,
shrouded in a mystery which we can never hope to penetrate,
appear to ignorant man to lie within his reach: he
fancies he can touch them and so work by magic art all
manner of good to himself and evil to his foes. In time the
377fallacy of this belief becomes apparent to him: he discovers
that there are things he cannot do, pleasures which he is
unable of himself to procure, pains which even the most
potent magician is powerless to avoid. The unattainable
good, the inevitable ill, are now ascribed by him to the action
of invisible powers, whose favour is joy and life, whose anger
is misery and death. Thus magic tends to be displaced by
|Transition from magic to religion.|
religion, and the sorcerer by the priest. At this stage of
thought the ultimate causes of things are conceived to be
personal beings, many in number and often discordant in
character, who partake of the nature and even of the frailty
of man, though their might is greater than his, and their life
far exceeds the span of his ephemeral existence. Their
sharply-marked individualities, their clear-cut outlines have
not yet begun, under the powerful solvent of philosophy,
to melt and coalesce into that single unknown substratum of
phenomena which, according to the qualities with which our
imagination invests it, goes by one or other of the high-sounding
names which the wit of man has devised to hide
his ignorance. Accordingly, so long as men look on their
gods as beings akin to themselves and not raised to an
unapproachable height above them, they believe it to be
possible for those of their own number who surpass their
fellows to attain to the divine rank after death or even in
life. Incarnate human deities of this latter sort may be said
|Incarnate human deities.|
to halt midway between the age of magic and the age of
religion. If they bear the names and display the pomp of
deities, the powers which they are supposed to wield are
commonly those of their predecessor the magician. Like
him, they are expected to guard their people against hostile
enchantments, to heal them in sickness, to bless them with
offspring, and to provide them with an abundant supply of
food by regulating the weather and performing the other
ceremonies which are deemed necessary to ensure the
fertility of the earth and the multiplication of animals.
Men who are credited with powers so lofty and far-reaching
naturally hold the highest place in the land, and while the
rift between the spiritual and the temporal spheres has not
yet widened too far, they are supreme in civil as well as
religious matters: in a word, they are kings as well as gods.
378Thus the divinity which hedges a king has its roots deep
down in human history, and long ages pass before these are
sapped by a profounder view of nature and man.
|The King of the Wood at Nemi seems to have been one of these divine
kings and to have mated with the divine Queen of the Wood, Diana.|
In the classical period of Greek and Latin antiquity the
reign of kings was for the most part a thing of the past;
yet the stories of their lineage, titles, and pretensions suffice
to prove that they too claimed to rule by divine right and to
exercise superhuman powers. Hence we may without undue
temerity assume that the King of the Wood at Nemi, though
shorn in later times of his glory and fallen on evil days,
represented a long line of sacred kings who had once
received not only the homage but the adoration of their
subjects in return for the manifold blessings which they were
supposed to dispense. What little we know of the functions
of Diana in the Arician grove seems to prove that she
was here conceived as a goddess of fertility, and particularly
as a divinity of childbirth.[1238] It is reasonable, therefore, to
suppose that in the discharge of these important duties she
was assisted by her priest, the two figuring as King and
Queen of the Wood in a solemn marriage, which was
intended to make the earth gay with the blossoms of spring
and the fruits of autumn, and to gladden the hearts of men
and women with healthful offspring.
|Virbius, whom the King of the Wood represented, was probably a
form of Jupiter regarded as god of the greenwood, and especially
of the oak.|
If the priest of Nemi posed not merely as a king, but as
a god of the grove, we have still to ask, What deity in
particular did he personate? The answer of antiquity is
that he represented Virbius, the consort or lover of Diana.[1239]
But this does not help us much, for of Virbius we know little
more than the name. A clue to the mystery is perhaps
supplied by the Vestal fire which burned in the grove.[1240] For
the perpetual holy fires of the Aryans in Europe appear to
have been commonly kindled and fed with oak-wood,[1241] and
we have seen that in Rome itself, not many miles from Nemi,
the fuel of the Vestal fire consisted of oaken sticks or logs,
which in early days the holy maidens doubtless gathered or
cut in the coppices of oak that once covered the Seven
Hills.[1242] But the ritual of the various Latin towns seems
379to have been marked by great uniformity;[1243] hence it
is reasonable to conclude that wherever in Latium a
Vestal fire was maintained, it was fed, as at Rome,
with wood of the sacred oak. If this was so at Nemi, it
becomes probable that the hallowed grove there consisted
of a natural oak-wood, and that therefore the tree
which the King of the Wood had to guard at the peril of
his life was itself an oak; indeed it was from an
evergreen oak, according to Virgil, that Aeneas plucked
the Golden Bough.[1244] Now the oak was the sacred tree of
Jupiter, the supreme god of the Latins. Hence it follows
that the King of the Wood, whose life was bound up in a
fashion with an oak, personated no less a deity than Jupiter
himself. At least the evidence, slight as it is, seems to point
to this conclusion. The old Alban dynasty of the Silvii or
Woods, with their crown of oak leaves, apparently aped the
style and emulated the powers of Latian Jupiter, who dwelt on
the top of the Alban Mount.[1245] It is not impossible that the
King of the Wood, who guarded the sacred oak a little lower
down the mountain, was the lawful successor and representative
of this ancient line of the Silvii or Woods.[1246] At all events,
if I am right in supposing that he passed for a human Jupiter,
it would appear that Virbius, with whom legend identified
him, was nothing but a local form of Jupiter, considered
perhaps in his original aspect as a god of the greenwood.[1247]
380|Diana and the oak.|
The hypothesis that in later times at all events the
King of the Wood played the part of the oak god Jupiter,
is confirmed by an examination of his divine partner Diana.
|Diana, the divine partner of the King of the Wood at Nemi, seems to
have been especially associated with the oak.|
For two distinct lines of argument converge to shew that
if Diana was a queen of the woods in general, she was
at Nemi a goddess of the oak in particular. In the first
place, she bore the title of Vesta, and as such presided
over a perpetual fire, which we have seen reason to believe
was fed with oak wood.[1248] But a goddess of fire is not
far removed from a goddess of the fuel which burns in the
fire; primitive thought perhaps drew no sharp line of distinction
between the blaze and the wood that blazes. In the
second place, the nymph Egeria at Nemi appears to have
been merely a form of Diana, and Egeria is definitely said
to have been a Dryad, a nymph of the oak.[1249] Elsewhere in
Italy the goddess had her home on oak-clad mountains. Thus
Mount Algidus, a spur of the Alban hills, was covered in antiquity
with dark forests of oak, both of the evergreen and the
deciduous sort. In winter the snow lay long on these cold
hills, and their gloomy oak-woods were believed to be a
favourite haunt of Diana, as they have been of brigands in
modern times.[1250] Again, Mount Tifata, the long abrupt ridge
of the Apennines which looks down on the Campanian plain
behind Capua, was wooded of old with evergreen oaks, among
which Diana had a temple. Here Sulla thanked the goddess
for his victory over the Marians in the plain below, attesting
his gratitude by inscriptions which were long afterwards to be
seen in the temple.[1251] On the whole, then, we conclude that at
Nemi the King of the Wood personated the oak-god Jupiter
and mated with the oak-goddess Diana in the sacred grove.
An echo of their mystic union has come down to us in the
legend of the loves of Numa and Egeria, who according to
some had their trysting-place in these holy woods.[1252]
381|In nature and in name Dianus (Janus) and Diana seem to be only dialectically
different forms of Jupiter and Juno.|
To this theory it may naturally be objected that the
divine consort of Jupiter was not Diana but Juno, and that
if Diana had a mate at all he might be expected to bear the
name not of Jupiter, but of Dianus or Janus, the latter of
these forms being merely a corruption of the former. All
this is true, but the objection may be parried by observing
that the two pairs of deities, Jupiter and Juno on the one
side, and Dianus and Diana, or Janus and Jana, on the other
side, are merely duplicates of each other, their names and
their functions being in substance and origin identical. With
regard to their names, all four of them come from the same
Aryan root DI, meaning “bright,” which occurs in the
names of the corresponding Greek deities, Zeus and his old
female consort Dione.[1253] In regard to their functions, Juno
and Diana were both goddesses of fecundity and childbirth,
and both were sooner or later identified with the moon.[1254] As
to the true nature and functions of Janus the ancients themselves
were puzzled;[1255] and where they hesitated, it is not for
us confidently to decide. But the view mentioned by Varro
that Janus was the god of the sky[1256] is supported not only
by the etymological identity of his name with that of the
382sky-god Jupiter, but also by the relation in which he appears
to have stood to Jupiter’s two mates, Juno and Juturna.
For the epithet Junonian bestowed on Janus[1257] points to a
marriage union between the two deities; and according to
one account Janus was the husband of the water-nymph
Juturna,[1258] who according to others was beloved by Jupiter.[1259]
Moreover, Janus, like Jove, was regularly invoked, and commonly
spoken of, under the title of Father.[1260] Indeed, he was
identified with Jupiter not merely by the logic of a Christian
doctor,[1261] but by the piety of a pagan worshipper who dedicated
an offering to Jupiter Dianus.[1262] A trace of his relation to
the oak may be found in the oak-woods of the Janiculum,
the hill on the right bank of the Tiber, where Janus is said
to have reigned as a king in the remotest ages of Italian
history.[1263]
|Zeus and Dione, Jupiter and Juno, Dianus (Janus) and Diana represent
a single original pair of Aryan deities, which through purely dialectical differences
of nomenclature gradually diverged from each other and came to be regarded as
separate pairs of deities.|
Thus, if I am right, the same ancient pair of deities was
variously known among the Greek and Italian peoples as
Zeus and Dione, Jupiter and Juno, or Dianus (Janus) and
Diana (Jana), the names of the divinities being identical in
substance, though varying in form with the dialect of the
particular tribe which worshipped them. At first, when the
peoples dwelt near each other, the difference between the
deities would be hardly more than one of name; in other
words, it would be almost purely dialectical. But the gradual
dispersion of the tribes, and their consequent isolation from
each other, would favour the growth of divergent modes of
conceiving and worshipping the gods whom they had carried
383with them from their old home, so that in time discrepancies
of myth and ritual would tend to spring up and thereby to
convert a nominal into a real distinction between the divinities.
Accordingly when, with the slow progress of culture,
the long period of barbarism and separation was passing
away, and the rising political power of a single strong community
had begun to draw or hammer its weaker neighbours
into a nation, the confluent peoples would throw their gods,
like their dialects, into a common stock; and thus it might
come about that the same ancient deities, which their forefathers
had worshipped together before the dispersion, would
now be so disguised by the accumulated effect of dialectical
and religious divergencies that their original identity might
fail to be recognised, and they would take their places side by
side as independent divinities in the national pantheon.[1264]
|This explanation of Janus as equivalent to Jupiter is more probable than
the view that Janus was originally nothing but the god of the door (janua);
for the door (janua) seems rather to have been named after Janus than
he after it.|
This duplication of deities, the result of the final fusion
of kindred tribes who had long lived apart, would account
for the appearance of Janus beside Jupiter, and of Diana or
Jana beside Juno in the Roman religion.[1265] At least this
appears to be a more probable theory than the opinion,
which has found favour with some modern scholars, that
Janus was originally nothing but the god of doors.[1266] That a
deity of his dignity and importance, whom the Romans
revered as a god of gods[1267] and the father of his people,
384should have started in life as a humble, though doubtless
respectable, doorkeeper appears to me, I confess, very
unlikely. So lofty an end hardly consorts with so lowly
a beginning. It is more probable that the door (janua)
got its name from Janus than that he got his name
from it. This view is strengthened by a consideration of
the word janua itself. The regular word for door is the
same in all the languages of the Aryan family from India
to Ireland. It is dur in Sanscrit, thura in Greek, Tür in
German, door in English, dorus in old Irish, and foris in
Latin.[1268] Yet besides this ordinary name for door, which the
Latins shared with all their Aryan brethren, they had also
the name janua, to which there is no corresponding term in
any Indo-European speech. The word has the appearance
of being an adjectival form derived from the noun Janus. I
conjecture that it may have been customary to set up an
image or symbol of Janus at the principal door of the house
in order to place the entrance under the protection of the
great god. A door thus guarded might be known as a
janua foris, that is, a Januan door, and the phrase might in
time be abridged into janua, the noun foris being understood
but not expressed. From this to the use of janua to
designate a door in general, whether guarded by an image
of Janus or not, would be an easy and natural transition.[1269]
|The double-headed figure of Janus may have originated in a custom
of placing his image as guardian of doorways so as to face both ways, outwards
and inwards, at the same time.|
If there is any truth in this conjecture, it may explain
very simply the origin of the double head of Janus, which
has so long exercised the ingenuity of mythologists. When
it had become customary to guard the entrance of houses
and towns by an image of Janus, it might well be deemed
necessary to make the sentinel god look both ways, before
and behind, at the same time, in order that nothing should
escape his vigilant eye. For if the divine watchman always
faced in one direction, it is easy to imagine what mischief
might have been wrought with impunity behind his back.
385|This explanation is confirmed by the double-headed idols which the Bush
negroes of Surinam set to guard the entrances of their villages.|
This explanation of the double-headed Janus at Rome is
confirmed by the double-headed idol which the Bush
negroes in the interior of Surinam regularly set up as
a guardian at the entrance of a village. The idol consists
of a block of wood with a human face rudely carved on
each side; it stands under a gateway composed of two
uprights and a cross-bar. Beside the idol generally lies a
white rag intended to keep off the devil; and sometimes
there is also a stick which seems to represent a bludgeon
or weapon of some sort. Further, from the cross-bar hangs
a small log which serves the useful purpose of knocking
on the head any evil spirit who might attempt to pass
through the gateway.[1270] Clearly this double-headed fetish
at the gateway of the negro villages in Surinam bears a
close resemblance to the double-headed images of Janus
which, grasping a stick in one hand and a key in the other,
stood sentinel at Roman gates and doorways;[1271] and we
can hardly doubt that in both cases the heads facing two
ways are to be similarly explained as expressive of the
vigilance of the guardian god, who kept his eye on spiritual
foes behind and before, and stood ready to bludgeon them on
the spot. We may, therefore, dispense with the tedious and
unsatisfactory explanations which the wily Janus himself
fobbed off an anxious Roman enquirer.[1272] In the interior of
Borneo the Kenyahs generally place before the main
entrance of their houses the wooden image of Balli Atap,
that is, the Spirit or God (Balli) of the Roof, who protects
the household from harm of all kinds.[1273] But it does not
appear that this divine watchman is provided with more
than one face.
386|Thus the King of the Wood at Nemi seems to have personated the great
Aryan god of the oak, Jupiter or Janus, and to have mated with the oak-goddess
Diana.|
To apply these conclusions to the priest of Nemi, we
may suppose that as the mate of Diana he represented
originally Dianus or Janus rather than Jupiter, but that the
difference between these deities was of old merely superficial,
going little deeper than the names, and leaving practically
unaffected the essential functions of the god as a power of
the sky, the thunder, and the oak. If my analysis of this
great divinity is correct, the original element in his composite
nature was the oak. It was fitting, therefore, that his
human representative at Nemi should dwell, as we have seen
reason to believe he did, in an oak grove. His title of King
of the Wood clearly indicates the sylvan character of the
deity whom he served; and since he could only be assailed
by him who had plucked the bough of a certain tree in
the grove, his own life might be said to be bound up with
that of the sacred tree. Thus he not only served but
embodied the great Aryan god of the oak; and as an
oak-god he would mate with the oak-goddess, whether she
went by the name of Egeria or Diana. Their union,
however consummated, would be deemed essential to the
fertility of the earth and the fecundity of man and beast.
Further, as the oak-god had grown into a god of the sky,
the thunder, and the rain, so his human representative
would be required, like many other divine kings, to cause the
clouds to gather, the thunder to peal, and the rain to descend
in due season, that the fields and orchards might bear fruit and
the pastures be covered with luxuriant herbage. The reputed
possessor of powers so exalted must have been a very important
personage; and the remains of buildings and of
votive offerings which have been found on the site of the
sanctuary combine with the testimony of classical writers
to prove that in later times it was one of the greatest and
most popular shrines in Italy. Even in the old days when the
champaign country around was still parcelled out among
the petty tribes who composed the Latin League, the sacred
grove is known to have been an object of their common
reverence and care. And just as the kings of Cambodia
used to send offerings to the mystic kings of Fire and Water
far in the dim depths of the tropical forest, so, we may
well believe, from all sides of the broad Latian plain the
387eyes and footsteps of Italian pilgrims turned to the quarter
where, standing sharply out against the faint blue line of
the Apennines or the deeper blue of the distant sea, the
Alban Mountain rose before them, the home of the mysterious
priest of Nemi, the King of the Wood. There, among the
green woods and beside the still waters of the lonely hills the
ancient Aryan worship of the god of the oak, the thunder, and
the dripping sky lingered in its early, almost Druidical form,
long after a great political and intellectual revolution had
shifted the capital of Latin religion from the forest to the
city, from Nemi to Rome.
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Footnotes
1. A. Bastian, Die deutsche Expedition
an der Loango-Küste, ii. 230.
2. “Excursion de M. Brun-Rollet
dans la région supérieure du Nil,”
Bulletin de la Société de Géographie
(Paris), IVme Série, iv. (1852) pp.
421-423; ib. viii. (1854) pp. 387 sq.;
Brun-Rollet, Le Nil Blanc et le Soudan
(Paris, 1855), pp. 227 sqq. As to the
rain-making chiefs of this region see
above, vol. i. pp. 345 sqq. As to the
distress and privations endured by these
people in the dry season, see E. de
Pruyssenaere, “Reisen und Forschungen
im Gebiete des Weissen und Blauen
Nil,” Petermann’s Mittheilungen,
Ergänzungsheft No. 50 (Gotha, 1877),
p. 23.
3. W. Munzinger, Ostafrikanische
Studien (Schaffhausen, 1864), p. 474.
4. Mgr. Cuénot, in Annales de la
Propagation de la Foi, xiii. (1841) p.
143; H. Mouhot, Travels in the
Central Parts of Indo-China (London,
1864), ii. 35; A. Bastian, “Beiträge
zur Kenntniss der Gebirgsstämme in
Kambodia,” Zeitschrift der Gesellschaft
für Erdkunde zu Berlin, i. (1866)
p. 37; J. Moura, Le Royaume du
Cambodge (Paris, 1883), i. 432-436;
E. Aymonier, “Notes sur les coutumes
et croyances superstitieuses des Cambodgiens,”
in Cochinchine Française:
Excursions et reconnaissances, No.
16 (Saigon, 1883), pp. 172 sq.; id.,
Notes sur le Laos (Saigon, 1885), p.
60; Le Capitaine Cupet, “Chez les
populations sauvages du Sud de l’Annam,”
Tour du monde, No. 1682,
April 1, 1893, pp. 193-204; id., in
Mission Pavie, Indo-Chine 1879-1895,
Géographie et voyages, iii. (Paris, 1900)
pp. 297-318; Tournier, Notice sur le
Laos Français (Hanoi, 1900), pp. 111
sq.; A. Lavallée, “Notes ethnographiques
sur diverses tribus du Sud-Est
de l’Inde-Chine,” Bulletin de
l’École Française d’Extrême-Orient,
i. (Hanoi, 1901) pp. 303 sq. Mgr.
Cuénot mentions only the King of
Fire. Bastian speaks as if the King
of Fire was also the King of Water.
Both writers report at second hand.
6. Julian, Fragm. 4, ed. Hertlein,
pp. 608 sq. On the vast woods of
Germany, their coolness and shade,
see also Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 5.
7. Ch. Elton, Origins of English
History (London, 1882), pp. 3, 106
sq., 224.
8. W. Helbig, Die Italiker in der
Poebene (Leipsic, 1879), pp. 25 sq.
9. H. Nissen, Italische Landeskunde,
i. (Berlin, 1883) pp. 431 sqq.
10. Livy, ix. 36-38. The Ciminian
mountains (Monte Cimino) are still
clothed with dense woods of majestic
oaks and chestnuts. Modern writers
suppose that Livy has exaggerated the
terrors and difficulties of the forest.
See G. Dennis, Cities and Cemeteries
of Etruria, 3rd Ed., i. 146-149.
11. C. Neumann und J. Partsch,
Physikalische Geographie von Griechenland
(Breslau, 1885), pp. 357 sqq. I
am told that the dark blue waters of
the lake of Pheneus, which still reflected
the sombre pine-forests of the
surrounding mountains when I travelled
in Arcadia in the bright unforgetable
autumn days of 1895, have since disappeared,
the subterranean chasms
which drain this basin having been,
whether accidentally or artificially,
cleared so as to allow the pent-up
waters to escape. The acres which
the peasants have thereby added to
their fields will hardly console future
travellers for the loss of the watery
mirror, which was one of the most
beautiful, as it was one of the rarest,
scenes in the parched land of Greece.
12. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th Ed.,
i. 53 sqq.; O. Schrader, Reallexikon
der indo-germanischen Altertumskunde
(Strasburg, 1901), s.v. “Tempel,”
pp. 855 sqq.
13. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 249 sqq.;
Maximus Tyrius, Dissert. viii. 8.
15. Tacitus, Germania, 9, 39, 40, 43;
id., Annals, ii. 12, iv. 73; id., Hist. iv.
14; J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th Ed.,
pp. 541 sqq.; Bavaria Landes- und
Volkeskunde des Königreichs Bayern,
iii. 929 sq.
16. J. Grimm, Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer,
pp. 519 sq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus (Berlin, 1875), pp. 26 sqq.
17. Adam of Bremen, Descriptio insularum
Aquilonis, 27 (Migne’s Patrologia
Latina, vol. cxlvi. col. 644).
18. L. Leger, La Mythologie slave
(Paris, 1901), pp. 73-75, 188-190.
19. Mathias Michov, “De Sarmatia
Asiana atque Europea,” in Simon
Grynaeus’s Novus Orbis regionum ac
insularum veteribus incognitarum
(Paris, 1532), pp. 455 sq. [wrongly
numbered 445, 446]; Martin Cromer,
De origine et rebus gestis Polonorum
(Basel, 1568), p. 241; Fabricius,
Livonicae historiae compendiosa series
(Scriptores rerum Livonicarum, ii.
(Riga and Leipsic, 1848) p. 441).
20. See C. Bötticher, Der Baumkultus
der Hellenen (Berlin, 1856); L. Preller,
Römische Mythologie, 3rd. Ed., i. 105-114.
21. The Classical Review, xix. (1905)
p. 331, referring to an inscription found
in Cos some years ago.
22. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 77; Tacitus,
Ann. xiii. 58. The fig-tree is represented
on Roman coins and on the
great marble reliefs which stand in the
Forum. See E. Babelon, Monnaies de
la République romaine, ii. 336 sq.;
R. Lanciani, Ruins and Excavations
of Ancient Rome (London, 1897), p.
258; E. Petersen, Vom alten Rom
(Leipsic, 1900), pp. 26, 27.
24. K. Rhamm, “Der heidnische Gottesdienst
des finnischen Stammes,”
Globus, lxvii. (1895) pp. 343, 348.
This article is an abstract of a Finnish
book Suomen suvun pakanillinen jumalen
palvelus, by J. Krohn (Helsingfors,
1894).
25. “Heilige Haine und Bäume der
Finnen,” Globus, lix. (1891) pp. 350
sq.
26. P. S. Pallas, Reise durch verschiedene
Provinzen des russischen Reichs
(St. Petersburg, 1771-1776), iii. 60
sq.
27. Porphyry, De abstinentia, i. 6.
This was an opinion of the Stoic and
Peripatetic philosophy.
28. Washington Matthews, Ethnography
and Philology of the Hidatsa
Indians (Washington, 1877), pp. 48 sq.
29. L. H. Morgan, League of the Iroquois
(Rochester, 1851), pp. 162, 164.
30. J. L. Krapf, Travels, Researches,
and Missionary Labours during an
Eighteen Years’ Residence in Eastern
Africa (London, 1860), p. 198.
31. Rev. Lorimer Fison, in a letter
to the author dated November 3,
1898.
32. J. Teit, “The Thompson Indians
of British Columbia,” p. 349 (Memoir
of the American Museum of Natural
History, The Jesup North Pacific Expedition,
vol. i. part iv.).
33. C. Hupe, “Over de godsdienst,
zeden enz. der Dajakkers,” Tijdschrift
voor Neêrlands Indië, 1846 (Batavia),
dl. iii. p. 158.
34. De la Loubere, Du royaume
de Siam (Amsterdam, 1691), i. 382.
Compare Mgr. Bruguière, in Annales
de l’Association de la Propagation de
la Foi, v. (1831) p. 127.
35. The Buddhist conception of trees
as animated often comes out in the
Jatakas. For examples see H. Oldenberg,
Die Religion des Veda, pp. 259
sqq.; The Jātaka, bk. xii. No. 465,
vol. iv. pp. 96 sqq. (English translation
edited by E. B. Cowell).
36. J. J. M. de Groot, The Religious
System of China, iv. (Leyden, 1901)
pp. 272 sqq.
37. J. J. M. de Groot, The Religious
System of China, v. (Leyden, 1907)
p. 663.
38. F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und
religiöser Brauch der Südslaven (Münster
i. W., 1890), p. 33.
39. A. B. Ellis, The Ewe-speaking
Peoples of the Slave Coast (London,
1890), pp. 49 sqq. Compare id., The
Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast
(London, 1887), pp. 34 sqq.; Missions
Catholiques, ix. (1877) p. 71.
40. G. Maspero, Histoire ancienne des
peuples de l’Orient classique: les origines
(Paris, 1895), pp. 121 sq.
41. Merolla, “Voyage to Congo,” in
Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, xvi.
236.
42. C. C. von der Decken, Reisen in
Ost-Afrika (Leipsic and Heidelberg,
1869-1871), i. 216. The writer does
not describe the mode of appeasing the
tree-spirit in the case mentioned. As to
the Wanika beliefs, see above, p. 12.
43. Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda
Protectorate (London, 1902), ii.
832.
44. J. B. L. Durand, Voyage au
Sénégal (Paris, 1802), p. 119.
45. S. J. Curtiss, Primitive Semitic
Religion To-day (Chicago, 1902), p.
94.
46. A. d’Orbigny, Voyage dans l’Amérique
Méridionale (Paris and Strasburg,
1839-1843), ii. 157, 159 sq.
47. A. W. Nieuwenhuis, In Centraal-Borneo
(Leyden, 1900), i. 146.
48. H. H. Romilly, From my Verandah
in New Guinea (London, 1889),
p. 86.
49. D. C. J. Ibbetson, Outlines of
Panjab Ethnography (Calcutta, 1883),
p. 120.
50. W. von Schulenberg, “Volkskundliche
Mittheilungen aus der
Mark,” Verhandlungen der Berliner
Gesellschaft für Anthropologie, Ethnologie
und Urgeschichte (1896), p. 189.
Compare A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz,
Nord-deutsche Sagen, Märchen und
Gebräuche, p. 407, § 142; E. Meier,
Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche
aus Schwaben, p. 463, § 208; A. Kuhn,
Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus
Westfalen, ii. pp. 108 sq., §§ 326, 327,
p. 116, §§ 356, 358; A. Birlinger,
Volksthümliches aus Schwaben, i. pp.
464 sq., § 6; K. Bartsch, Sagen,
Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg,
ii. 228 sq.; W. Kolbe, Hessische
Volks-Sitten und Gebräuche, 2nd Ed., p. 29; R.
Andree, Braunschweiger Volkskunde
(Brunswick, 1896), p. 234; R. Wuttke,
Sächsische Volkskunde 2nd Ed., (Dresden, 1901),
p. 370. The custom has been discussed
by U. Jahn, Die deutschen Opfergebräuche
bei Ackerbau und Viehzucht
(Breslau, 1884), pp. 214-220.
He comes to the conclusion, which I
cannot but regard as erroneous, that
the custom was in origin a rational precaution
to keep the caterpillars from
the trees. Compare the marriage of
trees, below, pp. 24sqq.
51. J. Aubrey, Remaines of Gentilisme
and Judaisme (London, 1881), p. 247.
52. Peter Jones, History of the Ojebway
Indians, p. 104.
53. J. J. M. de Groot, Religious
System of China, iv. 274.
54. A. Peter, Volksthümliches aus
Österreichisch-Schlesien (Troppau, 1865-67),
ii. 30.
55. P. Wagler, Die Eiche in alter und
neuer Zeit, ii. (Berlin, 1891) p. 56
note 1.
56. A. Bastian, Indonesien, i. 154;
compare id., Die Völker des östlichen
Asien, ii. 457 sq., iii. 251 sq., iv.
42 sq.
57. J. de los Reyes y Florentino,
“Die religiosen Anschauungen der
Ilocanen (Luzon),” Mittheilungen der
k. k. Geograph. Gesellschaft in Wien,
xxxi. (1888) p. 556.
58. F. Gardner, “Philippine (Tagalog)
Superstitions,” Journal of American
Folk-lore, xix. (1906) p. 191. These
superstitions are translated from an old
and rare work La Pratica del ministerio,
by Padre Tomas Ortiz (Manila, 1713).
59. Th. Nöldeke, “Tigre-Texte,”
Zeitschrift für Assyriologie, xxiv.
(1910) p. 298, referring to E.
Littmann, Publications of the Princeton
Expedition to Abyssinia (Leyden,
1910).
60. J. Spieth, Die Ewe-Stämme (Berlin,
1906), pp. 394-396.
61. J. H. Neumann, “De tĕndi in
verband met Si Dajang,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap,
xlviii. (1904) pp. 124 sq.
62. From a letter of the Rev. J.
Roscoe, written in Busoga, 21st May,
1908.
63. Satapatha-Brâhmana, translated
by J. Eggeling, Part II. pp. 165 sq.
(Sacred Books of the East, vol. xxvi.);
H. Oldenberg, Die Religion des Veda,
pp. 256 sq.
64. De la Loubere, Du royaume de
Siam (Amsterdam, 1691), i. 383.
66. I. v. Zingerle, “Der heilige Baum
bei Nauders,” Zeitschrift für deutsche
Mythologie und Sittenkunde, iv. (1859),
pp. 33 sqq. According to Lucan
(Pharsal. iii. 429-431), the soldiers
whom Caesar ordered to cut down the
sacred oak-grove of the Druids at Marseilles
believed that the axes would rebound
from the trees and wound themselves.
67. W. W. Skeat, Malay Magic, pp.
198 sq. As to the durian-tree and its
fruit, see A. R. Wallace, The Malay
Archipelago 6th Ed., (London, 1877), pp. 74
sqq.
69. F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und
religiöser Brauch der Südslaven, p. 34;
A. Strausz, Die Bulgaren (Leipsic,
1898), p. 352. Compare R. F.
Kaindl, “Aus der Volksüberlieferung
der Bojken,” Globus, lxxix. (1901) p.
152.
70. G. Pitrè, Spettacoli e feste popolari
(Palermo, 1881), p. 221; id.,
Usi e costumi, credenze e pregiudizi
del popolo siciliano, iii. (Palermo,
1889) p. 111; G. Vuillier, “Chez les
magiciens et les sorciers de la Corrèze,”
Tour du monde, N.S. v. (1899) p.
512.
71. M. Tchéraz, “Notes sur la mythologie
Arménienne,” Transactions of
the Ninth International Congress of
Orientalists (London, 1893), ii. 827.
Compare M. Abeghian, Der armenische
Volksglaube (Leipsic, 1899), p. 60.
72. G. Finamore, Credenze, usi, e
costumi abruzzesi (Palermo, 1890),
pp. 162 sq.
73. Georgeakis et Pineau, Folk-lore de
Lesbos (Paris, 1894), p. 354.
74. Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten
abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und
Gewohnheiten (St. Petersburg, 1854),
p. 134.
75. M. J. van Baarda, “Fabelen,
Verhalen, en Overleveringen der Galelareezen,”
Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land-
en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië,
xlv. (1895) p. 511.
76. A. G. Vorderman, “Planten-animisme
op Java,” Teysmannia, No. 2,
1896, pp. 59 sq.; Internationales Archiv
für Ethnographie, ix. (1896) p. 175.
77. A. G. Vorderman, op. cit. p. 60;
Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie,
ix. (1896) p. 176.
79. A. de Humboldt, Voyage aux
régions équinoxiales du Nouveau Continent,
ii. (Paris, 1819) pp. 369 sq.,
429 sq.
80. Elsdon Best, “Maori Nomenclature,”
Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 197.
81. Herodotus, i. 193; Theophrastus,
Historia plantarum, ii. 8. 4; Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xiii. 31, 34 sq. In this
passage Pliny states that naturalists
distinguished the sexes of all trees and
plants. On Assyrian monuments a
winged figure is often represented holding
an object which looks like a pine-cone
to a palm-tree. The scene has
been ingeniously and with great probability
explained by Professor E. B.
Tylor as the artificial fertilisation of
the date-palm by means of the male
inflorescence. See his paper in Proceedings
of the Society of Biblical
Archaeology, xii. (1890) pp. 383-393.
On the artificial fertilisation of the
date-palm, see C. Ritter, Vergleichende
Erdkunde von Arabien (Berlin, 1847),
ii. 811, 827 sq.
82. D. Chwolsohn, Die Ssabier und
der Ssabismus (St. Petersburg, 1856),
ii. 36, 251. Mohammed forbade the
artificial fertilisation of the palm,
probably because of the superstitions
attaching to the ceremony. But he had
to acknowledge his mistake. See D.
S. Margoliouth, Mohammed and the
Rise of Islam, p. 230 (a passage pointed
out to me by Dr. A. W. Verrall).
83. Sir W. H. Sleeman, Rambles and
Recollections of an Indian Official
(Westminster, 1893), i. 38 sq.; compare
Census of India, 1901, vol. xiii.,
Central Provinces, part i. p. 92.
84. Journal of the Asiatic Society of
Bengal, lxxii., part iii. (Calcutta, 1904)
p. 42.
85. J. A. Dubois, Mœurs, institutions
et cérémonies des peuples de l’Inde
(Paris, 1825), ii. 448 sq.; Monier
Williams, Religious Life and Thought
in India, pp. 333-335; W. Crooke,
Popular Religion and Folklore of
Northern India (Westminster, 1896),
ii. 110 sq. According to another
account, it is Vishnu, not Krishna, to
whom the holy plant is annually
married in every pious Hindoo family.
See Census of India, 1901, vol. xviii.,
Baroda, p. 125.
86. Sir Henry M. Elliot, Memoirs on
the History, Folklore, and Distribution
of the Races of the North-western Provinces
of India, edited by J. Beames
(London, 1869), i. 233 sq.
88. Sir W. H. Sleeman, Rambles and
Recollections of an Indian Official
(Westminster, 1893), i. 147-149, 175.
The Salagrama is commonly perforated
in one or more places by worms or, as
the Hindoos believe, by the legendary
insect Vajrakita or by Vishnu himself.
The value of the fossil shell depends on
its colour, and the number of its convolutions
and holes. The black are
prized as gracious embodiments of
Vishnu; the violet are shunned as
dangerous avatars of the god. He who
possesses a black Salagrama keeps it
wrapped in white linen, washes and
adores it daily. A draught of the
water in which the shell has been
washed is supposed to purge away all
sin and to secure the temporal and
eternal welfare of the drinker. These
fossils are found in Nepaul, in the
upper course of the river Gandaka, a
northern tributary of the Ganges.
Hence the district goes by the name of
Salagrami, and is highly esteemed for
its sanctity; a visit to it confers great
merit on a man. See Sonnerat,
Voyage aux Indes Orientales et à la
Chine (Paris, 1782), i. 173 sq.; J. A.
Dubois, Mœurs, institutions et cérémonies
des peuples de l’Indie (Paris,
1825), ii. 446-448; Sir W. H. Sleeman,
op. cit. i. 148 sq., with the editor’s
notes; Monier Williams, Religious
Thought and Life in India, pp. 69 sq.;
G. Watt, Dictionary of the Economic
Products of India, vi. Part II. (London
and Calcutta, 1893) p. 384; W.
Crooke, op. cit. ii. 164 sq.; Indian
Antiquary, xxv. (1896) p. 146; G.
Oppert, On the Original Inhabitants of
Bharatavarsa or India (Westminster
and Leipsic, 1893), pp. 337-359; id.,
“Note sur les Sālagrāmas,” Comptes
rendus de l’Académie des Inscriptions
et Belles-Lettres (Paris, 1900), pp.
472-485. The shell derives its name
of ammonite from its resemblance to
a ram’s horn, recalling the ram-god
Ammon.
89. Die gestriegelte Rockenphilosophie
(Chemnitz, 1759), pp. 239 sq.; U. Jahn,
Die deutschen Opfergebräuche bei Ackerbau
und Viehzucht, pp. 214 sqq. See
above, p. 17.
90. Van Schmid, “Aanteekeningen
nopens de zeden, gewoonten en gebruiken,
etc., der bevolking van de eilanden
Saparoea, etc.” Tijdschrift voor Neêrlands
Indië, 1843 (Batavia), dl. ii. p.
605; A. Bastian, Indonesien, i. 156.
91. G. W. W. C. Baron van Hoëvell,
Ambon en meer bepaaldelijk de Oeliasers
(Dordrecht, 1875), p. 62.
92. G. A. Wilken, “Het animisme bij
de volken van het Indischen archipel,”
De Indische Gids, June 1884, p. 958;
id., Handleiding voor de vergelijkende
Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch Indië
(Leyden, 1893), pp. 549 sq.
93. E. L. M. Kühr, “Schetsen uit
Borneo’s Westerafdeeling,” Bijdragen
tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
Nederlandsch-Indië, xlvii. (1897) pp.
58 sq.
94. A. C. Kruijt, “Eenige ethnografische
aanteekeningen omtrent de
Toboengkoe en de Tomori,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) p.
221.
95. D. Grangeon, “Les Cham et leur
superstitions,” Missions Catholiques,
xxviii. (1896) p. 83.
97. A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander
aangaande het geestelijk en maatschappelijk
leven van den Poso-Alfoer,”
Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xxxix.
(1895) pp. 22, 138.
98. Id., “Eenige ethnografische aanteekeningen
omtrent de Toboengkoe
en Tomori,” ib., xliv. (1900) p. 227.
99. C. Snouck Hurgronje, Het Gajōland
en zijne Bewoners (Batavia, 1903),
pp. 344, 345.
100. S. Gason, “The Dieyerie Tribe,”
Native Tribes of South Australia, p.
280; A. W. Howitt, “The Dieri and
other kindred Tribes of Central Australia,”
Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xx. (1891) p. 89.
101. F. Blumentritt, “Der Ahnencultus
und die religiöse Anschauungen der
Malaien des Philippinen-Archipels,”
Mittheilungen der Wiener Geogr. Gesellschaft
(1882), pp. 159 sq.; id., Versuch
einer Ethnographie der Philippinen
(Gotha, 1882), pp. 13, 29 (Petermann’s
Mittheilungen, Ergänzungsheft, No.
67); J. Mallat, Les Philippines (Paris,
1846), i. 63 sq.
102. A. Schadenberg, “Beiträge zur
Kenntnis der im Innern Nordluzons
lebenden Stämme,” Verhandlungen
der Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie,
Ethnologie und Urgeschichte
(1888), p. 40.
103. F. Grabowsky, “Der Tod, etc.,
bei den Dajaken,” Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie, ii. (1889)
p. 181.
105. Mrs. Bishop, Korea and her Neighbours
(London, 1898), i. 106 sq.
106. J. J. M. de Groot, Religious
System of China, ii. 462 sqq., iv.
277 sq.
107. La Mission lyonnaise d’exploration
commerciale en Chine 1895-1897
(Lyons, 1898), p. 361.
108. “Der Muata Cazembe und die
Völkerstämme der Maravis, Chevas,
Muembas, Lundas und andere von
Süd-Afrika,” Zeitschrift für allgemeine
Erdkunde, vi. (1856) p. 273.
109. Major A. G. Leonard, The Lower
Niger and its Tribes (London, 1906),
pp. 298 sqq.
110. Ch. Partridge, Cross River
Natives (London, 1905), pp. 272 sq.
112. F. S. A. de Clercq, “De Westen
Noordkust van Nederlandsch Nieuw-Guinea,”
Tijdschrift van het kon. Nederlandsch
Aardrijkskundig Genootschap,
Tweede Serie, x. (1893) p. 199.
113. “Shamanism in Siberia and European
Russia,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxiv. (1895) p. 136.
114. Fr. Boas, in Sixth Report on the
North-Western Tribes of Canada, p. 28
(separate reprint from the Report of the
British Association for 1890).
115. F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und
religiöser Brauch der Südslaven, p. 36.
119. A. Landes, “Contes et légendes
annamites,” No. 9, in Cochinchine
française: excursions et reconnaissances,
No. 20 (Saigon, 1885), p. 310.
120. A. B. Ellis, The Yoruba-speaking
Peoples of the Slave Coast of West
Africa, pp. 134-136.
121. B. C. A. J. van Dinter, “Eenige
geographische en ethnographische
aanteekeningen betreffende het eiland
Siaoe,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal-
Land- en Volkenkunde, xli. (1899) pp.
379 sq.
122. E. Modigliani, Un Viaggio a Nías
(Milan, 1890), p. 629.
123. O. Baumann, Usambara und seine
Nachbargebiete (Berlin, 1891), pp. 57 sq.
124. Spencer and Gillen, Northern
Tribes of Central Australia, pp. 162,
330 sq.
125. Ph. Paulitschke, Ethnographie
Nordost-Afrikas: Die geistige Cultur
der Danâkil, Galla und Somâl (Berlin,
1896), pp. 34 sq. On the Galla worship
of trees, see further Mgr. Massaja, in
Annales de la Propagation de la Foi,
xxx. (1858) p. 50; Coulbeaux, “Au
pays de Menelik,” Missions Catholiques,
xxx. (1898) p. 418.
126. J. Kubary, “Die Religion der
Pelauer,” in A. Bastian’s Allerlei aus
Volks- und Menschenkunde, i. 52; id.,
Beiträge zur Kenntnis des Karolinen
Archipels, iii. (Leyden, 1895) p. 228.
127. A. B. Ellis, The Yoruba-speaking
Peoples of the Slave Coast, p. 115.
128. A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander
aangaande het geestelijk en maatschappelijk
leven van den Poso-Alfoer,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xl. (1896) pp. 28
sq.
129. A. C. Kruijt, “Eenige ethnografische
aanteekeningen omtrent de
Toboengkoe en de Tomori,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) pp.
220 sq.
131. J. Habbema, “Bijgeloof in de
Preanger-Regentschappen,” Bijdragen
tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
Nederlandsch-Indië, xli. (1900) pp.
113, 115.
132. G. Heijmering, “Zeden en Gewoonten
op het eiland Rottie,” Tijdschrift
voor Neêrlands Indië (1844),
dl. i. p. 358.
133. C. Snouck Hurgronje, Het Gajōland
en zijne Bewoners (Batavia, 1903),
p. 351.
134. Th. A. L. Heyting, “Beschrijving
der onder-afdeeling Groot-mandeling
en Batang-natal,” Tijdschrift van het
Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap,
Tweede Serie, xiv. (1897) pp.
289 sq.
135. F. Blumentritt, Versuch einer
Ethnographie der Philippinen (Gotha,
1882), p. 13 (Petermanns Mittheilungen,
Ergänzungheft, No. 67). See
above, pp. 18sq.
136. Crossland, quoted by H. Ling Roth,
The Natives of Sarawak and British
North Borneo, i. 286; compare Journal
of the Anthropological Institute, xxi.
(1892) p. 114.
137. “Lettre du curé de Santiago
Tepehuacan à son évêque,” Bulletin de
la Société de Géographie (Paris), IIme.
Série, ii. (1834) pp. 182 sq.
146. J. Perham, “Sea Dyak Religion,”
Journal of the Straits Branch of the
Royal Asiatic Society, No. 10 (Dec.
1882), p. 217; H. Ling Roth, The
Natives of Sarawak and British North
Borneo, i. 184.
147. W. Kükenthal, Forschungsreise in
den Molukken und in Borneo (Frankfort,
1896), pp. 265 sq.
148. Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xxv. (1896) p. 170.
149. E. T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology
of Bengal, pp. 186, 188; compare
A. Bastian, Völkerstämme am Brahmaputra,
p. 9.
150. E. T. Dalton, op. cit. p. 33; A.
Bastian, op. cit. p. 16. Compare L.
A. Waddell, “The Tribes of the
Brahmaputra Valley,” Journal of the
Asiatic Society of Bengal, lxix. (1901)
Part III. p. 16; W. Robertson Smith,
The Religion of the Semites, 2nd Ed., pp. 132
sq.
151. E. T. Dalton, op. cit. p. 25; A.
Bastian, op. cit. p. 37.
152. A. C. Kruijt, “Het koppensnellen
der Toradja’s van Midden-Celebes en
zijne beteekenis,” Verslagen en Mededeelingen
der konink. Akademie van
Wetenschappen, Afdeeling Letterkunde,
IV. Reeks, iii. (1899) p. 195.
153. A. W. Niewenhuis, In Centraal-Borneo
(Leyden, 1900), i. 146; id.,
Quer durch Borneo, i. (Leyden, 1904)
p. 107.
154. Id., “Tweede Reis van Pontianak
naar Samarinda,” Tijdschrift van het
konink. Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig
Genootschap, II. Serie, xvii. (1900)
p. 427.
155. J. Perham, “Sea Dyak Religion,”
Journal of the Straits Branch of the
Royal Asiatic Society, No. 10 (December
1882), p. 217; H. Ling Roth,
The Natives of Sarawak and British
North Borneo, i. 184.
156. B. Hagen, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss
der Battareligion,” Tijdschrift voor
Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde,
xxviii. 530, note.
158. E. Young, The Kingdom of the
Yellow Robe (Westminster, 1898), pp.
192 sq.
159. J. G. Scott and J. P. Hardiman,
Gazetteer of Upper Burma and the Shan
States, Part I. vol. i. (Rangoon, 1900)
pp. 518 sq.
160. Captain Macpherson, in North
Indian Notes and Queries, ii. 112 §
428.
161. W. Crooke, Popular Religion and
Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), ii. 91.
162. A. Bastian, Die Völker des östlichen
Asien, i. 134. The authority quoted
by Bastian calls the people Curka
Coles. As to the Larka Kols, see
E. T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology of
Bengal, pp. 177 sqq.
163. W. Crooke, Tribes and Castes of
the North-Western Provinces and Oudh,
iv. 130.
164. S. Mateer, The Land of Charity
(London, 1871), p. 206.
165. B. A. Hely, in Annual Report on
British New Guinea for 1894-95, p.
57.
166. T. J. Hutchinson, Impressions of
Western Africa (London, 1858), pp.
130 sq.
167. Gallieni, “Mission dans le Haut
Niger et à Ségou,” Bulletin de la Société
de Géographie (Paris), viiime Série,
v. (1883) pp. 577 sq.
168. Ch. M. Doughty, Travels in
Arabia Deserta (Cambridge, 1888), i.
365.
169. Th. Bent, “The Yourouks of Asia
Minor,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xx. (1891) p. 275.
170. Erasmus Stella, “De Borussiae
antiquitatibus,” in Simon Grynaeus’s
Novus Orbis regionum ac insularum
veteribus incognitarum (Paris, 1532),
p. 510; J. Lasicius (Lasiczki), “De
diis Samagitarum caeterorumque Sarmatarum,”
in Respublica sive Status
regni Poloniae, Lituaniae, Prussiae,
Livoniae, etc. (Leyden, 1627), pp.
299 sq.; M. C. Hartknoch, Alt und
neues Preussen (Frankfort and Leipsic,
1684), p. 120. Lasiczki’s work has been
reprinted by W. Mannhardt, in Magazin
herausgegeben von der lettisch-lite-rärischen
Gesellschaft, xiv. 82 sqq.
(Mitau, 1868).
171. Mathias Michov, in Simon Grynaeus’s
Novus Orbis regionum ac insularum
veteribus incognitarum (Paris,
1532), p. 457.
172. J. G. Kohl, Die deutsch-russischen
Ostseeprovinzen (Dresden and Leipsic,
1841), ii. 277.
173. Capt. E. C. Luard, in Census of
India, 1901, xix. (Lucknow, 1902)
p. 76.
174. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed., i.
497; compare id. ii. 540, 541.
175. Max Buch, Die Wotjäken (Stuttgart,
1882), p. 124.
176. P. v. Stenin, “Ein neuer Beitrag
zur Ethnographie der Tscheremissen,”
Globus, lviii. (1890) p. 204.
177. J. G. Dalyell, Darker Superstitions
of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1834),
p. 400.
179. J. Biddulph, Tribes of the Hindoo
Koosh, p. 116.
180. H. R. Tate, “Further Notes on
the Kikuyu Tribe of British East
Africa,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxxiv. (1904) p. 263; id.
“The Native Law of the Southern
Gikuyu of British East Africa,” Journal
of the African Society, No. 35 (April
1910), pp. 242 sq.
181. On the representations of Silvanus,
the Roman wood-god, see H. Jordan
in L. Preller’s Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i.
393 note; A. Baumeister, Denkmäler
des classischen Altertums, iii. 1665 sq.
A good representation of Silvanus bearing
a pine branch is given in the Sale
Catalogue of H. Hoffmann, Paris,
1888, pt. ii.
182. Aeneas Sylvius, Opera (Bâle, 1571),
p. 418 [wrongly numbered 420]; compare
Erasmus Stella, “De Borussiae
antiquitatibus,” in Novus Orbis regionum
ac insularum veteribus incognitarum,
p. 510.
183. E. T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology
of Bengal, p. 186.
184. J. G. Scott and J. P. Hardiman,
Gazetteer of Upper Burmah and the
Shan States, Part II. vol. iii. (Rangoon,
1901), pp. 63 sq.
185. E. Aymonier, in Cochinchine française:
excursions et reconnaissances,
No. 16 (Saigon, 1883), pp. 175 sq.
186. L. Decle, Three Years in Savage
Africa (London, 1898), p. 489.
187. H. Schinz, Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika,
pp. 295 sq.
190. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus (Berlin,
1875), pp. 158, 159, 170, 197,
214, 351, 514.
191. E. T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology
of Bengal, p. 188.
192. Villault, Relation des costes appellées
Guinée (Paris, 1669), pp. 266
sq.; Labat, Voyage du chevalier des
Marchais en Guinée, isles voisines, et
à Cayenne (Paris, 1730), i. 338.
193. O. Baumann, Usambara und seine
Nachbargebiete (Berlin, 1891), p. 142.
194. C. E. X. Rochet d’Hericourt,
Voyage sur la côte orientale de la Mer
Rouge dans le pays d’Adel et le royaume
de Choa (Paris, 1841), pp. 166 sq.
195. L. Lloyd, Peasant Life in Sweden
(London, 1870), p. 266.
197. W. Mannhardt, Antike Wald- und
Feldkulte (Berlin, 1877), pp. 212 sqq.
198. H. Low, Sarawak, p. 274; id.,
in Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xxv. (1896) p. 111.
199. T. H. Lewin, Wild Races of
South-Eastern India (London, 1870),
p. 270.
200. J. Mackenzie, Ten Years North of
the Orange River (Edinburgh, 1871),
p. 385.
201. J. Campbell, Travels in South
Africa, Second Journey (London, 1822),
ii. 203.
202. Rev. J. Macdonald, MS. notes;
compare id., Light in Africa, p. 210;
id., in Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xx. (1891) p. 140. The
Nubas will not cut shoots of the nabac
(a thorn-tree) during the rainy season
(Missions Catholiques, xiv. (1882) p.
460). Among some of the hill-tribes
of the Punjaub no one is allowed to
cut grass or any green thing with an
iron sickle till the festival of the ripening
grain has been celebrated; otherwise
the field-god would be angry and
send frost to destroy or injure the
harvest (D. C. J. Ibbetson, Outlines of
Panjab Ethnography, p. 121).
203. “Ueber die Religion der heidnischen
Tscheremissen im Gouvernement
Kasan,” Zeitschrift für allgemeine
Erdkunde, N. F. iii. (1857) p. 150.
204. J. Biddulph, Tribes of the Hindoo
Koosh, pp. 103 sq.
206. W. Crooke, Popular Religion and
Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), ii. 102. See also Sir
H. M. Elliot, Memoirs on the History,
Folk-lore, and Distribution of the Races
of the North-Western Provinces of India,
edited by J. Beames, ii. 217, where,
however, the object of the prayers is
said to be the fruitfulness of the tree
itself, not the fruitfulness of women,
animals, and cattle.
208. Th. J. Hutchinson, Impressions of
Western Africa, p. 128.
209. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p.
161; E. Meier, Deutsche Sagen, Sitten
und Gebräuche aus Schwaben, p. 397;
A. Peter, Volksthümliches aus Österreichisch-Schlesien,
ii. 286.
210. W. Camden, Britannia, ed. R.
Gough (London, 1779), iii. 659.
Camden’s authority is Good, a writer
of the sixteenth century.
211. County Folk-lore: Suffolk, collected
and edited by Lady Eveline Camilla
Gurdon (London, 1893), p. 117.
212. Mr. E. F. Benson, in a letter to
the author dated December 15, 1892.
213. Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq.,
edited by Lord Braybrooke, Second
Edition (London, 1828), ii. 209,
under May 1st, 1667.
214. Lady Wilde, Ancient Legends,
Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of
Ireland (London, 1887), i. 196 sq. If
an Irish housewife puts a ring of rowan-tree
or quicken, as it is also called, on
the handle of the churn-dash when she
is churning, no witch can steal her
butter (P. W. Joyce, Social History of
Ancient Ireland (London, 1903), i.
236 sq.).
216. W. Gregor, Folk-lore of the North-east
of Scotland (London, 1881), p. 188.
217. J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and
Second Sight in the Highlands and
Islands of Scotland, p. 270, compare
ib., pp. 7 sqq.
218. J. G. Campbell, op. cit. pp. 11 sq.
In Germany also the rowan-tree is a
charm against witchcraft (A. Wuttke,
Der deutsche Volksaberglaube, 2nd Ed., p. 106,
§ 145).
219. Sir John Rhys, “The Coligny
Calendar,” Proceedings of the British
Academy, vol. iv. pp. 55 sq. of the
offprint.
220. A. Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers 2nd Ed.,
(Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 178 sq.; W.
Mannhardt, Germanische Mythen (Berlin,
1858), pp. 17 sq.
221. J. D. H. Temme, Die Volkssagen
der Altmark (Berlin, 1839), p. 85; E.
Sommer, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche
aus Sachsen und Thüringen (Halle,
1846), p. 149; A. Kuhn, Sagen,
Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen,
ii. p. 154, § 432, p. 155, § 436; A.
Schleicher, Volkstümliches aus Sonnenberg
(Weimar, 1858), p. 139; A. Peter,
Volksthümliches aus Österreichisch-Schlesien
(Troppau, 1865-67), ii. 252;
R. Eisel, Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes
(Gera, 1871), p. 210; Reinsberg-Düringsfeld,
Fest-Kalender aus Böhmen,
p. 210; P. Drechsler, Sitte, Brauch
und Volksglaube in Schlesien, i. (Leipsic,
1903) p. 109.
222. A. Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed.,
p. 166.
223. P. Drechsler, op. cit. i. 109 sq.
Compare A. Peter, loc. cit.
224. W. Müller, Beiträge zur Volkskunde
der Deutschen in Mähren (Vienna and
Olmütz, 1893), p. 324.
225. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalender
aus Böhmen, p. 210.
227. J. B. Holzmayer, “Osiliana,”
Verhandlungen der gelehrten Estnischen
Gesellschaft zu Dorpat, vii. No. 2
(Dorpat, 1872), pp. 10 sq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, pp. 407 sq.
228. Potocki, Voyage dans les steps
d’Astrakhan et du Caucase (Paris,
1829), i. 309.
229. W. Foy, in Archiv für Religionswissenschaft,
x. (1907) p. 551. For
details of the evidence see W. H.
Goldie, M.D., “Maori Medical Lore,”
Transactions and Proceedings of the
New Zealand Institute, xxxvii. (1904)
pp. 93-95.
230. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp.
163 sqq. To his authorities add for
France, A. Meyrac, Traditions,
coutumes, légendes et contes des
Ardennes, pp. 84 sqq.; L. F. Sauvé,
Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges, pp. 131
sq.; Bérenger-Féraud, Superstitions
et survivances, v. 309 sq.; Ch.
Beauquier, Les Mois en Franche-Comté
(Paris, 1900), pp. 69-72; F. Chapiseau,
Le Folk-lore de la Beauce et du
Perche (Paris, 1902), ii. 109-111; for
Silesia, F. Tetzner, “Die Tschechen
und Mährer in Schlesien,” Globus, lxxviii.
(1900) p. 340; P. Drechsler, Sitte,
Brauch und Volksglaube in Schlesien,
i. 112 sq.; for Moravia, W. Müller,
Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen
in Mähren, p. 26; for Sardinia, R.
Tennant, Sardinia and its Resources
(Rome and London, 1885), pp. 185 sq.
In Brunswick the custom is observed
at Whitsuntide (R. Andree, Braunschweiger
Volkskunde, p. 248).
231. Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde
des Königreichs Bayern, i. 373.
232. F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und religiöser
Brauch der Südslaven, p. 35.
233. W. Radloff, Proben der Volkslitteratur
der nördlichen Türkischen
Stämme, v. 2 (St. Petersburg, 1885).
234. E. T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology
of Bengal, p. 194; a similar
custom is practised among the Kurmis,
ibid., p. 319. Among the Mundas the
custom seems now to have fallen into
disuse (H. H. Risley, Tribes and
Castes of Bengal: Ethnographic Glossary,
ii. 102).
235. The explanation has been suggested
by Mr. W. Crooke (Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxviii. (1899)
p. 243). There are other facts, however,
which point to a different explanation,
namely, that the practice
is intended to avert possible evil consequences
from bride or bridegroom.
For example, “the superstition regarding
a man’s third marriage, prevalent
in Barār and, I believe in other
parts of India, is not despised by the
Vēlamās. A third marriage is unlucky.
Should a man marry a third wife, it
matters not whether his former wives
be alive or not, evil will befall either
him or that wife. No father would
give his girl to a man whose third wife
she would be. A man therefore, who
has twice entered the married state
and wishes to mate yet once again,
cannot obtain as a third wife any one
who has both the wit and the tongue
to say no; a tree has neither, so to a
tree he is married. I have not been
able to discover why the tree, or rather
shrub, called in Marāthī ru’i and in
Hindūstānī madar (Asclepias gigantea),
is invariably the victim selected in
Barār, nor do I know whether the
shrub is similarly favoured in other
parts of India. The ceremony consists
in the binding of a mangal sūtra round
the selected shrub, by which the bridegroom
sits, while turmeric-dyed rice
(akṣata) is thrown over both him and
the shrub. This is the whole of the
simple ceremony. He has gone through
his unlucky third marriage, and any
lady whom he may favour after this
will be his fourth wife” (Captain
Wolseley Haig, “Notes on the
Vēlamā Caste in Bārār,” Journal of the
Asiatic Society of Bengal, lxx. part iii.
(1901) p. 28). Again, the Vellalas of
Southern India “observe a curious custom
(derived from Brāhmans) with regard
to marriage, which is not unknown in
other communities. A man marrying
a second wife after the death of his
first has to marry a plantain tree, and
cut it down before tying the tāli, and,
in case of a third marriage, a man has
to tie a tāli first to the erukkan (arka:
Calotropis gigantea) plant. The idea
is that second and fourth wives do not
prosper, and the tree and the plant are
accordingly made to take their places.”
(Mr. Hemingway, quoted by E. Thurston,
Castes and Tribes of Southern India,
vii. 387). Tying the tali to the bride is
the common Hindoo symbol of marriage,
like giving the ring with us. As to these
Indian marriages to trees see further my
Totemism and Exogamy, i. 32 sq., iv.
210 sqq.; Panjab Notes and Queries,
ii. § 252, iii. §§ 12, 90, 562, iv. § 396;
North Indian Notes and Queries, i. §
110; D. C. J. Ibbetson, Settlement
Report of the Karnal District, p. 155;
H. H. Risley, Tribes and Castes of
Bengal, i. 531; Capt. E. C. Luard,
in Census of India, 1901, vol. xix. 76;
W. Crooke, Tribes and Castes of the
North-Western Provinces and Oudh,
ii. 363; id., Popular Religion and
Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), ii. 115-121. I was
formerly disposed to connect the
custom with totemism, but of this
there seems to be no sufficient evidence.
243. T. F. Thiselton Dyer, Popular
British Customs, p. 233.
244. R. Chambers, Book of Days (London
and Edinburgh, 1886), i. 578;
T. F. Thiselton Dyer, op. cit. pp.
237 sq.
245. W. Hone, Every Day Book (London,
N.D.), ii. 615 sq.; T. F. Thiselton
Dyer, British Popular Customs,
pp. 251 sq. At Polebrook in Northamptonshire
the verses sung by the
children on their rounds include two
which are almost identical with those
sung at Abingdon in Berkshire. See
Dyer, op. cit. pp. 255 sq. The same
verses were formerly sung on May Day
at Hitchin in Hertfordshire (Hone,
Every Day Book, i. 567 sq.; Dyer,
op. cit. pp. 240 sq.).
247. Percy Manning, in Folk-lore, iv.
(1893) pp. 403 sq.
248. Id., in Folk-lore, viii. (1897) p.
308. Customs of the same sort are
reported also from Combe, Headington,
and Islip, all in Oxfordshire (Dyer,
British Popular Customs, pp. 261 sq.).
See below, pp. 90sq.
250. W. H. D. Rouse, in Folk-lore, iv.
(1893) p. 53. I have witnessed the
ceremony almost annually for many
years. Many of the hoops have no
doll, and ribbons or rags of coloured
cloth are more conspicuous than
flowers in their decoration.
251. J. P. Emslie, in Folk-lore, xi.
(1900) p. 210.
252. Memoirs of Anna Maria Wilhelmina
Pickering, edited by her son,
Spencer Pickering (London, 1903),
pp. 160 sq.
253. Lady Wilde, Ancient Cures,
Charms, and Usages of Ireland (London,
1890), pp. 101 sq. At the ancient
Greek festival of the Daphnephoria or
“Laurel-bearing” a staff of olive-wood,
decked with laurels, purple ribbons,
and many-coloured flowers, was carried
in procession, and attached to it were
two large globes representing the sun
and moon, together with a number of
smaller globes which stood for the
stars. See Proclus, quoted by Photius,
Bibliotheca, p. 321, ed. Bekker.
254. E. Cortet, Essai sur les fêtes religieuses
(Paris, 1867) pp. 167 sqq.
255. Revue des traditions populaires,
ii. (1887) p. 200.
256. W. Müller, Beiträge zur Volkskunde
der Deutschen in Mähren (Wien
und Olmütz, 1893), pp. 319 sq., 355-359.
263. H. Pröhle, Harzbilder (Leipsic,
1855), pp. 19 sq. Compare id., in
Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und
Sittenkunde, i. (1853) pp. 81 sq.; W.
Mannhardt, Germanische Mythen, pp.
512 sqq.; A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz,
Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche
(Leipsic, 1848), p. 390, § 80.
264. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen (Prague, N.D.), pp.
308 sq. A fuller description of the
ceremony will be given later.
265. For the evidence see J. Brand,
Popular Antiquities, i. 234 sqq.; W.
Hone, Every Day Book, i. 547 sqq.,
ii. 574 sqq.; R. Chambers, Book of
Days, i. 574 sqq.; T. F. Thiselton
Dyer, British Popular Customs, pp. 228
sqq.; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
pp. 168 sqq.
266. Phillip Stubbes, The Anatomie of
Abuses, p. 149 (F. J. Furnivall’s
reprint). In later editions some verbal
changes were made.
267. W. Borlase, Natural History of
Cornwall (Oxford, 1758), p. 294.
268. W. Hutchinson, View of Northumberland
(Newcastle, 1778), ii.
Appendix, pp. 13 sq.; Dyer, British
Popular Customs, p. 257.
269. “Padstow ‘Hobby Hoss,’” Folklore,
xvi. (1905) pp. 59 sq.
270. E. Meier, Deutsche Sagen, Sitten
und Gebräuche aus Schwaben (Stuttgart,
1852), p. 396.
271. E. Mogk, in R. Wuttke’s Sächsische
Volkskunde 2nd Ed., (Dresden, 1901), pp.
309 sq.
273. A. De Nore, Coutumes, mythes et
traditions des provinces de France
(Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 137.
274. Bérenger-Féraud, Superstitions et
survivances (Paris, 1896), v. 308 sq.
Compare id., Reminiscences populaires
de la Provence, pp. 21 sq., 26, 27.
275. J. G. Scott and J. P. Hardiman,
Gazetteer of Upper Burma and the Shan
States, part i. vol. i. (Rangoon, 1900)
p. 529.
276. W. Hone, Every Day Book, i. 547
sqq.; R. Chambers, Book of Days, i. 571.
277. Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde
des Königreichs Bayern, i. 372.
278. W. Hone, Every Day Book, ii. 597
sq. Mr. G. W. Prothero tells me
that about the year 1875 he saw a
permanent May-pole decked with
flowers on May Day on the road
between Cambridge and St. Neot’s,
not far from the turning to Caxton.
280. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, p. 217; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 566.
281. A. Birlinger, Volksthümliches aus
Schwaben (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1861-1862),
ii. 74 sq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 566.
282. Aristophanes, Plutus, 1054; W.
Mannhardt, Antike Wald- und Feldkulte,
pp. 222 sq.
283. Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten
abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und
Gewohnheiten, pp. 112-114. Some
traits in this story seem to suggest that
the return of the trooper to his old
home was, like that of the war-broken
veteran in Campbell’s poem, only a
soldier’s dream.
284. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, pp. 86 sqq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 156.
285. R. Chambers, Book of Days, i. 573.
Compare the Cambridge custom, described
above, p. 62.
289. Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde
des Königreichs Bayern, iii. 357; W.
Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp. 312 sq.
The word Walber probably comes from
Walburgis, which is doubtless only
another form of the better known Walpurgis.
The second of May is called
Walburgis Day, at least in this part of
Bavaria.
295. W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-tales,
p. 345. As to Green George
see above, pp. 75sq.
296. W. R. S. Ralston, Songs of the
Russian People, p. 234.
297. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p.
318; J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
ii. 657.
298. A. de Nore, Coutumes, mythes et
traditions des provinces de France,
pp. 17 sq.; Bérenger-Féraud, Réminiscences
populaires de la Provence, pp. 1 sq.
299. A. Meyrac, Traditions, coutumes,
légendes et contes des Ardennes (Charleville,
1890), pp. 79-82. The girl was
called the Trimouzette. A custom of
the same general character was practised
down to recent times in the Jura
(Bérenger-Féraud, Réminiscences populaires
de la Provence, p. 18).
300. F. A. Reimann, Deutsche Volksfeste
im neunzehnten Jahrhundert (Weimar,
1839), pp. 159 sq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 320; A. Witzschel,
Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Thüringen,
p. 211.
301. W. Kolbe, Hessische Volks-Sitten
und Gebräuche im Lichte der heidnischen
Vorzeit (Marburg, 1888), p. 70.
302. Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde
des Königreichs Bayern, iv. 2, pp. 359
sq. Similarly in the Département de
l’Ain (France) on the first of May eight
or ten boys unite, clothe one of their
number in leaves, and go from house
to house begging (W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 318).
303. E. Hoffmann-Krayer, “Fruchtbarkeitsriten
im schweizerischen Volksbrauch,”
Schweizerisches Archiv für
Volkskunde, xi. (1907) p. 252.
304. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p.
322; W. Hone, Every-Day Book, i.
583 sqq.; T. F. Thiselton Dyer,
British Popular Customs, pp. 230 sq.
305. W. H. D. Rouse, “May-Day in
Cheltenham,” Folk-lore, iv. (1893)
pp. 50-53. On May Day 1891 I saw
a Jack-in-the-Green in the streets of
Cambridge.
310. A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche
Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche,
p. 380.
311. F. Tetzner, “Die Tschechen und
Mährer in Schlesien,” Globus, lxviii
(1900) p. 340.
312. A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, op. cit.
pp. 383 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
p. 342.
313. R. Andree, Braunschweiger Volkskunde
(Brunswick, 1896), pp. 249 sq.
314. K. Seifart, Sagen, Märchen,
Schwänke und Gebräuche aus Stadt
und Stift Hildesheim, Zweite Auflage
(Hildesheim, 1889), pp. 180 sq.
315. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, pp. 260 sq.; W.
Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp. 342 sq.
316. F. A. Reimann, Deutsche Volksfeste
im neunzehnten Jahrhundert, pp.
157-159; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
pp. 347 sq.; A. Witzschel, Sagen, Sitten
und Gebräuche aus Thüringen (Vienna,
1878), p. 203.
317. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, pp. 253 sqq.
318. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, p. 262; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, pp. 353 sq.
323. T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British
Popular Customs, pp. 270 sq.
324. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp.
344 sqq.; E. Cortet, Fêtes religieuses, pp.
160 sqq.; D. Monnier, Traditions populaires
comparées, pp. 282 sqq.; Bérenger-Féraud,
Réminiscences populaires de la
Provence, pp. 17 sq.; Ch. Beauquier,
Les Mois en Franche-Comté (Paris,
1900), pp. 65-69. In Franche-Comté
she seems to be generally known as
l’épousée, “the spouse.”
325. From information given me by
Mabel Bailey, in the service of Miss A.
Wyse of Halford. My informant’s
father is a native of Stourton, and she
herself has spent much of her life there.
I conjecture that the conical flower-bedecked
structure may once have been
borne by a mummer concealed within
it. Compare the customs described
above, pp. 82sq.
327. From information given me by
Miss A. Wyse of Halford.
328. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalendar
aus Böhmen, pp. 265 sq.; W.
Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p. 422.
329. P. Drechsler, Sitte, Brauch und
Volksglaube in Schlesien, i. (Leipsic,
1903) pp. 125-129.
330. D. Monnier, Traditions populaires
comparées (Paris, 1854), p. 304; E.
Cortet, Fêtes religieuses, p. 161; W.
Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p. 423.
331. J. Brand, Popular Antiquities, i.
233 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
p. 424. We have seen (p. 62) that
a custom of the same sort used to be
observed at Bampton-in-the-Bush in
Oxfordshire.
332. E. Hoffmann-Krayer, “Fruchtbarkeitsriten
im schweizerischen Volksbrauch,”
Schweizerisches Archiv für
Volkskunde, xi. (1907) pp. 257 sq.
333. E. Sommer, Sagen, Märchen und
Gebräuche aus Sachsen und Thüringen
(Halle, 1843), pp. 151 sq.; W.
Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp. 431 sq.
The custom is now obsolete (E. Mogk,
in R. Wuttke’s Sächsische Volkskunde, 2nd Ed.,
Dresden, 1901, p. 309).
334. H. F. Feilberg, in Folk-lore, vi.
(1895) pp. 194 sq.
343. M. Martin, Description of the
Western Islands of Scotland (London,
1673 [1703]), p. 119; id. in Pinkerton’s
Voyages and Travels, iii. 613;
W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p. 436.
According to Martin, the ceremony
took place on Candlemas Day, the
second of February. But this seems
to be a mistake. See J. G. Campbell,
Witchcraft and Second Sight
in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland,
pp. 247 sq. The Rev. James
Macdonald, of Reay in Caithness, was
assured by old people that the sheaf
used in making Briid’s bed was the
last sheaf cut at harvest (J. Macdonald,
Religion and Myth, p. 141). Later on
we shall see that the last sheaf is often
regarded as embodying the spirit of the
corn, and special care is therefore taken
of it.
344. John Ramsay of Ochtertyre, Scotland
and Scotsmen in the Eighteenth
Century, edited by Alex. Allardyce
(Edinburgh, 1888), ii. 447. At Ballinasloe
in County Galway it is customary
to fasten a cross of twisted corn in the
roof of the cottages on Candlemas Day.
The cross is fastened by means of a knife
stuck through a potato, and remains in
its place for months, if not for a year.
This custom (of which I was informed
by Miss Nina Hill in a letter dated
May 5, 1898) may be connected with
the Highland one described in the
text.
345. J. Train, Historical and Statistical
Account of the Isle of Man (Douglas,
Isle of Man, 1845), ii. 116.
346. See below, pp. 240sqq. Brigit is
the true original form of the name, which
has been corrupted into Breed, Bride,
and Bridget. See Douglas Hyde, A
Literary History of Ireland (London,
1899), p. 53, note 2.
347. A. Kuhn, Märkische Sagen und
Märchen, pp. 318 sqq.; W. Mannhardt,
Baumkultus, p. 437.
352. Brasseur de Bourbourg, Histoire
des nations civilisées du Mexique et de
l’Amérique Centrale (Paris, 1857-1859),
ii. 565; H. H. Bancroft, Native Races
of the Pacific States, ii. 719 sq., iii.
507; O. Stoll, Die Ethnologie der
Indianerstämme von Guatemala (Leyden,
1889), p. 47.
353. P. J. de Arriaga, Extirpacion de
la idolatria del Piru (Lima, 1621), pp.
36 sq.
354. G. A. Wilken, “Het animisme bij
de volken van den Indischen Archipel,”
De Indische Gids, June 1884, p. 958.
355. J. G. F. Riedel, De sluik-en
kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en
Papua, pp. 337, 372-375, 410 sq.;
G. W. W. C. Baron van Hoëvell, in
Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en
Volkenkunde, xxxiii. (1890) pp. 204
sq., 206 sq.; id., in Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie, viii. (1895)
p. 134; J. A. Jacobsen, Reisen in die
Inselwelt des Banda-Meeres (Berlin,
1896), pp. 123, 125; J. H. de Vries,
“Reis door eenige eilandgroepen der
Residentie Amboina,” Tijdschrift van
het konink. Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig
Genootschap, Tweede Serie, xvii.
(1900) pp. 594, 612, 615 sq. The
name of the festival is variously given
as porĕke, porĕka, porka, and purka.
In the island of Timor the marriage of
the Sun-god with Mother Earth is
deemed the source of all fertility and
growth. See J. S. G. Gramberg,
“Eene maand in de Binnenlanden van
Timor,” Verhandelingen van het Bataviaasch
Genootschap van Kunsten en
Wetenschappen, xxxvi. 206 sq.; H.
Sondervan, “Timor en de Timoreezen,”
Tijdschriftvan het Nederlandsch
Aardrijkskundig Genootschap, Tweede
Serie, dl. v. (1888), Afdeeling meer
uitgebreide artikelen, p. 397.
356. T. C. Hodson, “The Native
Tribes of Manipur,” Journal of the
Anthropological Institute, xxxi. (1901)
p. 307.
357. Maimonides, translated by D.
Chwolsohn, Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus,
ii. 475. It is not quite clear
whether the direction, which Maimonides
here attributes to the heathen of
Harran, is taken by him from the
beginning of The Agriculture of the
Nabataeans, which he had referred to
a few lines before. The first part of
that work appears to be lost, though
other parts of it exist in manuscript at
Paris, Oxford, and elsewhere. See D.
Chwolsohn, op. cit. i. 697 sqq. The
book is an early Mohammedan forgery;
but the superstitions it describes
may very well be genuine. See A.
von Gutschmid, Kleine Schriften, ii.
568-713.
358. G. W. W. C. Baron van Hoëvell,
Ambon en meer bepaaldelijk de Oeliasers
(Dordrecht, 1875), pp. 62 sq.
359. J. Kreemer, “Tiang-dèrès” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xxvi. (1882), pp.
128-132. This and the preceding
custom have been already quoted by
G. A. Wilken (“Het animisme bij de
volken van den Indischen Archipel,”
De Indische Gids, June 1884, pp. 962
sq.; and Handleiding voor de vorgelijkende
Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië
(Leyden, 1893), p. 550).
361. W. Svoboda, “Die Bewohner des
Nikobaren-Archipels,” Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie, v. (1892) pp.
193 sq. For other examples of a fruitful
woman making trees fruitful, see
above, vol. i. pp. 140 sq.
362. J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the
Manners and Customs of the Baganda,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xxxii. (1902) pp. 32-35, 38, 80. The
Peruvian custom described above (vol. i.
p. 266) may in like manner have been
intended to promote the growth of
beans through the fertilising influence
of the parents of twins. On the contrary
among the Bassari of Togo, in
Western Africa, women who have given
birth to twins may not go near the farm
at the seasons of sowing and reaping,
lest they should destroy the crop.
Only after the birth of another child
does custom allow them to share again
the labour of the fields. See H.
Klose, Togo unter deutscher Flagge
(Berlin, 1899), p. 510.
363. W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, pp.
480 sq.; id., Mythologische Forschungen
(Strasburg, 1884), p. 341.
367. G. W. W. C. Baron van Hoëvell,
in Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie,
viii. (1895) p. 134 note. The
custom seems to go by the name of
dauwtroppen or “dew-treading.” As
districts or places in which the practice
is still kept up the writer names South
Holland, Dordrecht, and Rotterdam.
368. L. Strackerjan, Aberglaube und
Sagen aus dem Herzogthum Oldenburg
(Oldenburg, 1867), ii. p. 78, § 361;
W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus, p. 481;
id., Mythologische Forschungen, p. 340.
Compare Th. Siebs, “Das Saterland,”
Zeitschrift für Volkskunde, iii. (1893)
p. 277.
369. A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander
aangaande het geestelijk en maatschappelijk
leven van den Poso-Alfoer,”
Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xxxix.
(1895) p. 138, ibid. xl. (1896) pp. 16 sq.
370. G. F. Oviedo y Valdes, Histoire
du Nicaragua (published in Ternaux-Compans’
Voyages, relations et
mémoires originaux, etc.), Paris, 1840,
pp. 228 sq.; A. de Herrera, General
History of the Vast Continent and
Islands called America (Stevens’s translation,
London, 1725-26), iii. 298.
371. C. Sapper, “Die Gebräuche und
religiösen Anschauungen der Kekchi-Indianer,”
Internationales Archiv für
Ethnographie, viii. (1895) p. 203.
Abstinence from women for several
days is also practised before the sowing
of beans and of chilis, but only by
Indians who do a large business in
these commodities (ibid. p. 205).
372. A. Heinrich, Agrarische Sitten und
Gebräuche unter den Sachsen Siebenbürgens
(Hermannstadt, 1880), p. 7.
373. R. Temesvary, Volksbräuche und
Aberglauben in der Geburtshilfe und
der Pflege der Neugebornen in Ungarn
(Leipsic, 1900), p. 16.
374. Spencer and Gillen, Northern
Tribes of Central Australia, p. 293.
See above, vol. i. p. 88.
376. J. Chalmers, Pioneering in New
Guinea (London, 1887), p. 181. The
word which I have taken to mean
“holy or taboo” is helaga. Mr.
Chalmers does not translate or explain
it. Dr. C. G. Seligmann says that the
word “conveys something of the idea
of ‘sacred,’ ‘set apart,’ ‘charged with
virtue’” (The Melanesians of British
New Guinea, p. 101, note 2).
377. A. C. Haddon, Head-hunters
(London, 1901), pp. 270-272, 275 sq.
378. T. C. Hodson, “The Native Tribes
of Manipur,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxxi. (1901) p. 307.
379. T. C. Hodson, “The genna
amongst the Tribes of Assam,” Journal
of the Anthropological Institute, xxxvi.
(1906) p. 94.
380. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xii. 54; Solinus,
xxxiii. 6 sq., p. 166, ed. Th. Mommsen
(first edition).
382. Palladius, De re rustica, i. 6. 14;
Geoponica, ix. 3. 5 sq.
383. With what follows compare
Psyche’s Task, chapter iv. pp. 31
sqq., where I have adduced the same
evidence to some extent in the same
words.
384. F. Mason, “On dwellings, works
of art, laws, etc., of the Karens,”
Journal of the Asiatic Society of
Bengal, xxxvii. (1868) Part ii. pp.
147 sq. Compare A. R. M’Mahon,
The Karens of the Golden Chersonese
(London, 1876), pp. 334 sq.
385. J. B. Neumann, “Het Pane- en
Bila-stroomgebied op het eiland
Sumatra,” Tijdschrift van het Nederlandsch
Aardrijkskundig Genootschap,
Tweede Serie, dl. iii. Afdeeling, meer
uitgebreide artikelen, No. 3 (1886),
pp. 514 sq.; M. Joustra, “Het leven,
de zeden en gewoonten der Bataks,”
Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xlvi.
(1902) p. 411.
386. H. Ling Roth, “Low’s natives of
Borneo,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxi. (1892) pp. 113 sq., 133,
xxii. (1893) p. 24; id., Natives of
Sarawak and British North Borneo,
i. 401. Compare Rev. J. Perham,
“Petara, or Sea Dyak Gods,” Journal of
the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society, No. 8, December 1881, p. 150;
H. Ling Roth, Natives of Sarawak and
British North Borneo, i. 180. According
to Archdeacon Perham, “Every
district traversed by an adulterer is
believed to be accursed of the gods until
the proper sacrifice has been offered.”
In respectable Dyak families, when an
unmarried girl is found with child and
the father is unknown, they sacrifice a
pig and sprinkle the doors with its
blood to wash away the sin (Spenser St.
John, Life in the Forests of the Far
East, 2nd Ed., i. 64). In Ceram a person
convicted of unchastity has to expiate
his guilt by smearing every house in the
village with the blood of a pig and a
fowl. See A. Bastian, Indonesien, i.
(Berlin, 1884) p. 144.
387. A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Quer durch
Borneo (Leyden, 1904-1907), i. 367.
388. A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Quer durch
Borneo, ii. 99; id., In Centraal Borneo
(Leyden, 1900), ii. 278.
389. B. F. Matthes, “Over de âdá’s of
gewoonten der Makassaren en Boegineezen,”
Verslagen en Mededeelingen
der koninklijke Akademie van Wetenschappen,
Afdeeling Letterkunde, Derde
Reeks, II. (Amsterdam, 1885) p. 182.
The similar Roman penalty for parricide
(Digest, xlviii. 9. 9; Valerius
Maximus, i. 1. 13; J. E. B. Mayor’s
note on Juvenal Sat. viii. 214) may
have been adopted for a similar reason.
But in that case the scourging which
preceded the drowning can hardly have
been originally a part of the punishment.
390. A. C. Kruijt, “Eenige ethnografische
aanteekeningen omtrent de
Toboengkoe en de Tomori,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap,
xliv. (1900) p.
235.
391. A. C. Kruijt, “Van Posso naar
Mori,” Mededeelingen van wege het
Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap,
xliv. (1900) p. 162.
392. M. J. van Baarda, “Fabelen,
Verhalen en Overleveringen der
Galelareezen,” Bijdragen tot de Taal-
Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië,
xlv. (1895) p. 514.
In the Banggai Archipelago, to the
east of Celebes, earthquakes are explained
as punishments inflicted by
evil spirits for indulgence in illicit love
(F. S. A. de Clercq, Bijdragen tot de
Kennis der Residentie Ternate (Leyden,
1890), p. 132).
393. O. Dapper, Description de l’Afrique
(Amsterdam, 1686), p. 326; R. E.
Dennett, At the Back of the Black
Man’s Mind (London, 1906), pp. 53,
67-71.
395. A. C. Hollis, The Nandi, their
Language and Folk-lore (Oxford, 1909),
p. 76.
396. Rev. E. Casalis, The Basutos
(London, 1861), p. 252.
397. Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda
Protectorate (London, 1902), ii. 718
sq.
398. A. C. Kruijt, “Regen lokken en
regen verdrijven bij de Toradja’s van
Midden Celebes,” Tijdschrift voor Indische
Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde,
xliv. (1901) p. 4.
399. Probably a similar extension of the
superstition to animal life occurs also
among savages, though the authorities
I have consulted do not mention it. A
trace, however, of such an extension
appears in a belief entertained by the
Khasis of Assam, that if a man defies
tribal custom by marrying a woman of
his own clan, the women of the tribe
will die in childbed and the people will
suffer from other calamities. See
Colonel P. R. T. Gurdon, The Khasis
(London, 1907), pp. 94, 123.
406. Columella, De re rustica, xii. 2 sq.,
appealing to the authority of M. Ambivius,
Maenas Licinius, and C. Matius.
See on this subject below, p. 205.
407. G. Keating, History of Ireland,
translated by J. O’Mahony (New York,
1857), pp. 337 sq.; P. W. Joyce,
Social History of Ancient Ireland
(London, 1903), ii. 512 sq.; J. Rhys,
Celtic Heathendom (London and Edinburgh,
1888), pp. 308 sq.
409. “Next (for hear me out now,
readers) that I may tell ye whither my
younger feet wandered; I betook me
among those lofty fables and romances
which recount in solemn cantos the
deeds of knighthood founded by our
victorious kings, and from hence had
in renown over all Christendom. There
I read it in the oath of every knight
that he should defend to the utmost
expense of his best blood, or of his
life, if it so befell him, the honour and
chastity of virgin or matron; from
whence even then I learned what a
noble virtue chastity sure must be, to
the defence of which so many worthies,
by such a dear adventure of themselves,
had sworn; and if I found in the story
afterward any of them by word or deed
breaking that oath, I judged it the
same fault of the poet as that which is
attributed to Homer, to have written
indecent things of the gods. Only
this my mind gave me, that every free
and gentle spirit, without that oath,
ought to be born a knight, nor needed
to expect the gilt spur or the laying of
a sword upon his shoulder to stir him
up both by his counsel and his arm, to
secure and protect the weakness of any
attempted chastity” (Milton, “Apology
for Smectymnuus,” Complete Collection
of the Historical, Political, and Miscellaneous
Works of John Milton (London,
1738), vol. i. p. 111).
410. For examples of chastity observed
at home by the friends of the absent
warriors, see above, vol. i. pp. 128, 131,
133. Examples of chastity observed
by the warriors themselves in the field
will be given in the second part of this
work. Meanwhile see The Golden
Bough, 2nd Ed., i. 328, note 2.
411. Speaking of the one God who
reveals himself in many forms and
under many names, Augustine says:
“Ipse in aethere sit Jupiter, ipse in
aëre Juno, ipse in mare Neptunus ...
Liber in vineis, Ceres in frumentis,
Diana in silvis,” etc. (De civitate Dei,
iv. 11).
412. Servius on Virgil, Georg. iii.
332: “Nam, ut diximus, et omnis
quercus Jovi est consecrata, et omnis
lucus Dianae.”
413. W. H. Roscher, Lexikon der griech.
und röm. Mythologie, i. 1005; H.
Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae selectae,
Nos. 3266-3268.
414. Dittenberger, Sylloge inscriptionum
Graecarum, 2nd Ed., No. 568; Ch. Michel,
Recueil d’inscriptions grecques, No.
686; E. S. Roberts, Introduction to
Greek Epigraphy, ii., No. 139.
415. Dittenberger, op. cit. No. 653,
lines 79 sqq.; Ch. Michel, op. cit.,
No. 694. As to the grove see
Pausanias, iv. 33. 4 sq.
423. Seneca, Epist. iv. 12. 3. See
further L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
i. 108 sqq. For evidence of the
poets he refers to Virgil, Georg. iii.
332 sqq.; Tibullus, i. 1. 11; Ovid,
Amores, iii. 1. 1 sq.
424. On Diana as a huntress see H.
Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae selectae,
Nos. 3257-3266. For indications of
her care for domestic cattle see Livy,
i. 45; Plutarch, Quaestiones Romanae,
4; and above, vol. i. p. 7.
425. Virgil, Aen., viii. 600 sq., with
Servius’s note.
426. M. A. Castren, Vorlesungen über
die finnische Mythologie (St. Petersburg,
1853), pp. 92-99.
427. P. v. Stenin, “Über den Geisterglauben
in Russland,” Globus, lvii.
(1890), p. 283.
428. J. Abercromby, The Pre- and
Proto-historic Finns (London, 1898),
i. 161.
429. Mathias Michov, “De Sarmatia
Asiana atque Europea,” in Novus Orbis
regionum ac insularum veteribus incognitarum,
p. 457.
430. C. Snouck Hurgronje, Het Gajōland
en zijne Bewoners (Batavia, 1903),
pp. 351, 359.
433. The Galatians retained their Celtic
speech as late as the fourth century of
our era, for Jerome says that in his day
their language hardly differed from
that of the Treveri, a Celtic tribe on
the Moselle, whose name survives in
Treves. See Jerome, Commentar. in
Epist. ad Galatas, lib. ii. praef. (Migne’s
Patrologia Latina, vol. xxvi. col.
357).
435. H. Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae
selectae, No. 4633; Ihm, in Pauly-Wissowa’s
Real-Encyclopädie der classischen
Altertumswissenschaft, ii. 616,
s.v. “Arduinna”; compare id. i.
104, s.v. “Abnoba.”
436. F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und
religiöser Brauch der Südslaven
(Münster i. W., 1890), p. 125.
437. J. H. Schmitz, Sitten und Bräuche,
Lieder, Sprüchwörter und Räthsel
des Eifler Volkes (Treves, 1856-1858),
i. 42 sq.; A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz,
Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und
Gebräuche, pp. 393 sq.; Ch. Beauquier,
Les Mois en Franche-Comté
(Paris, 1900), p. 90. In Sweden and
parts of Germany cattle are crowned
on the day in spring when they are
first driven out to pasture, which is
sometimes at Whitsuntide (A. Kuhn,
Die Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed., pp. 163
sq.; L. Lloyd, Peasant Life in Sweden,
pp. 246 sq.; A. Kuhn, Märkische
Sagen und Märchen, pp. 315 sq.,
327 sq.; P. Drechsler, Sitte, Brauch
und Volksglaube in Schlesien, i. 123).
Amongst the Romans cattle were
crowned at the Ambarvalia (Tibullus,
ii. 1. 7 sq.; Ovid, Fasti, i. 663); and
asses and mill-stones were crowned at
Vesta’s festival on the ninth of June
(Propertius, v. 1. 21; Ovid, Fasti, vi.
311 sq.). The original motive of all
these customs may have been the one
indicated in the text. Perhaps the
same explanation might be found to
apply to certain other cases of wearing
wreaths or crowns.
438. Tettau und Temme, Die Volkssagen
Ostpreussens, Litthauens und Westpreussens,
pp. 263 sq.; A. Kuhn und
W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen,
Märchen und Gebräuche, p. 392;
Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Das festliche
Jahr, p. 181; id., Calendrier belge,
i. 423 sq.; A. Birlinger, Volksthümliches
aus Schwaben, i. p. 278, § 437;
R. Eisel, Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes,
p. 210; F. J. Wiedemann, Aus dem
inneren und äusseren Leben der Ehsten,
p. 363; F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und
religiöser Brauch der Südslaven, p. 128.
440. In Nepaul a festival known as
Khichâ Pûjâ is held, at which worship
is offered to dogs, and garlands of
flowers are placed round the necks of
every dog in the country (W. Crooke,
Popular Religion and Folk-lore of
Northern India, Westminster, 1896,
ii. 221). But as the custom is apparently
not limited to hunting dogs, the
explanation suggested above would
hardly apply.
441. Catullus, xxxiv. 9-20; Cicero,
De natura deorum, ii. 26. 68 sq.;
Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 68 sq.
It deserves to be remembered that
Diana’s day was the thirteenth of
August, which in general would be
the time when the splendid harvest
moon was at the full. Indian women
in Peru used to pray to the moon to
grant them an easy delivery. See P.
J. de Arriaga, Extirpacion de la
idolatria del Piru (Lima, 1621),
p. 32.
443. In like manner the Greeks conceived
of the goddess Earth as the
mother not only of corn but of cattle
and of human offspring. See the
Homeric Hymn to Earth (No. 30).
444. Strabo, iv. 1. 4 and 5, pp.
179 sq. The image on the Aventine
was copied from that at Marseilles,
which in turn was copied from the one
at Ephesus.
445. Tacitus, Annals, xii. 8. The
Romans feared that the marriage of
Claudius with his paternal cousin
Agrippina, which they regarded as
incest, might result in some public
calamity (Tacitus, Annals, xii. 5).
449. M. Jastrow, Religion of Babylonia
and Assyria, pp. 117 sq.; L. W.
King, Babylonian Mythology and
Religion, pp. 18, 21.
450. H. Winckler, Die Gesetze Hammurabis 2nd Ed.,
(Leipsic, 1903), p. 31
§ 182. The expression is translated
“votary of Marduk” by Mr C. H. W.
Johns (Babylonian and Assyrian Laws,
Contracts, and Letters, Edinburgh, 1904,
p. 60). “The votary of Marduk is
the god’s wife vowed to perpetual
chastity, and is therefore distinct
from the devotees of Ištar. Like
the ordinary courtesan, these formed a
separate class and enjoyed special
privileges” (S. A. Cook, The Laws of
Moses and the Code of Hammurabi,
London, 1903, p. 148).
452. C. Johnston in Journal of the
American Oriental Society, xviii. First
Half (1897), pp. 153-155; R. F.
Harper, Assyrian and Babylonian
Literature (New York, 1901), p. 249.
For the equivalence of Iyyar or Airu
with May see Encyclopaedia Biblica,
s.v. “Months,” iii. coll. 3193 sq.
454. G. Maspero, in Journal des Savants,
année 1899, pp. 401-406; A.
Moret, Du caractère religieux de la
royauté Pharaonique (Paris, 1902), pp.
48-73; A. Wiedemann, Herodots
zweites Buch (Leipsic, 1890), pp. 268
sq. M. Moret shares the view of
Prof. Maspero that the pictures, or
rather painted reliefs, were copied from
masquerades in which the king and
other men and women figured as gods
and goddesses. As to the Egyptian
doctrine of the spiritual double or external
soul (Ka), see A. Wiedemann,
The Ancient Egyptian Doctrine of the
Immortality of the Soul (London, 1895),
pp. 10 sqq.
455. A. Erman, Die ägyptische Religion
(Berlin, 1905), pp. 75, 165 sq.;
compare id., Ägypten und ägyptisches
Leben im Altertum, pp. 400 sq. As
to the ghostly rule of the high priests
of Ammon at Thebes see further G.
Maspero, Histoire ancienne des peuples
de l’Orient classique, les premières
mêlées des peuples (Paris, 1897), pp.
559 sqq.; J. H. Breasted, A History of
the Ancient Egyptians (London, 1908),
pp. 350 sq., 357 sq.; C. P. Tiele,
Geschichte der Religion im Altertum,
i. (Gotha, 1896), p. 66.
461. Pausanias, viii. 13. 1. As to the
meaning of the title Essen see Callimachus,
Hymn to Zeus, 16; Hesychius,
Suidas, and Etymologicum Magnum,
s.v. Ἕσσην. The ancients mistook
the Queen bee for a male, and hence
spoke of King bees. See Aristotle,
Histor. animal. v. 21 sq., ix. 40, pp.
553, 623 sqq., ed. Bekker; id., De
animalium generatione, iii. 10, p. 760,
ed. Bekker; Aelian, Nat. animal. i.
10, v. 10 sq.; Virgil, Georg. iv. 21,
68; W. Walter-Tornow, De apium
mellisque apud veteres significatione
(Berlin, 1894), pp. 30 sqq. The
Essenes or King Bees are not to be
confounded with the nominal kings
(Basileis) of Ephesus, who probably
held office for life. See above, vol. i.
p. 47.
462. J. T. Wood, Discoveries at Ephesus,
Inscriptions from the Temple of Diana,
pp. 2, 14; Inscriptions from the
Augusteum, p. 4; Inscriptions from
the City and Suburbs, p. 38.
463. See B. V. Head, Coins of Ephesus
(London, 1880), and above, vol. i. pp.
37 sq. Modern writers sometimes assert
that the priestesses of the Ephesian
Artemis were called Bees. Certain
other Greek priestesses were undoubtedly
called Bees, and it seems
not improbable that the priestesses of
the Ephesian Artemis bore the same
title and represented the goddess in
her character of a bee. But no ancient
writer, so far as I know, affirms it. See
my note on Pausanias, viii. 13. 1.
464. Demosthenes, Contra Neaer. 73-78,
pp. 1369-1371; Aristotle, Constitution
of Athens, iii. 5; Hesychius,
s.vv. Διονύσου γάμος and γεραραί;
Etymologicum Magnum, s.v. γεραῖραι;
Pollux, viii. 108; K. F. Hermann,
Gottesdienstliche Alterthümer, 2nd Ed., § 32. 15,
§ 58. 11 sqq.; Aug. Mommsen, Feste
der Stadt Athen im Altertum (Leipsic,
1898), pp. 391 sqq. From Demosthenes,
l.c., compared with Thucydides,
ii. 15, it seems certain that the oath
was administered by the Queen at the
time and place mentioned in the text.
Formerly it was assumed that her
marriage to Dionysus was celebrated
at the same place and time;
but the assumption as to the place was disproved
by the discovery of Aristotle’s
Constitution of Athens, and with it the
assumption as to the time falls to the
ground. As the Greek months were commonly
named after the festivals
which were held in them, it is tempting
to conjecture that the sacred marriage
took place in the Marriage Month
(Gamelion), answering to our January.
But more probably that month was
named after the sacred marriage of
Zeus and Hera, which was celebrated
at Athens and elsewhere. See below,
p. 143. This is the view of W. H.
Roscher (Juno und Hera, p. 73, n.
217) and Aug. Mommsen (Feste der
Stadt Athen, p. 383). From the name
Cattle-stall, applied to the scene of the
marriage, Miss J. E. Harrison ingeniously
conjectured that in the rite
Dionysus may have been represented
as a bull (Prolegomena to the Study of
Greek Religion, p. 537). The conjecture
was anticipated by Prof. U.
von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Aristoteles
und Athen (Berlin, 1893), ii.
42. Dionysus was often conceived by
the Greeks in the form of a bull.
468. Tertullian, Ad nationes, ii. 7,
“Cur rapitur sacerdos Cereris si non
tale Ceres passa est?” Asterius Amasenus,
Encomium in sanctos martyres,
in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, xl. col.
324, Οὐκ ἐκεῖ (at Eleusis) τὸ καταβάσιον
τὸ σκοτεινόν, καὶ αἱ σεμναὶ τοῦ ἱεροφάντου
πρὸς τὴν ἱερείαν συντυχίαι,
μόνου πρὸς μόνην; Οὐχ αἱ λαμπάδες
σβέννυνται, καὶ ὁ πολὺς καὶ ἀναρίθμητος
δῆμος τὴν σωτηρίαν αὐτῶν εἶναι νομίζουσι
τὰ ἐν τῷ σκότῳ παρὰ τῶν δύο
πραττόμενα; Psellus, Quaenam sunt
Graecorum opiniones de daemonibus, p.
39. ed. J. F. Boissonade, τὰ δέ γε
μυστήρια τούτων, οἷα αὐτίκα τὰ Ἐλευσίνια,
τὸν μυθικὸν ὑποκρίνεται Δία
μιγνύμενον τῇ Δηοῖ, ἤγουν τῇ Δήμητρι ...
Ὕποκρίνεται δὲ καὶ τὰς τῆς Δηοῦς
ὠδῖνας. Ἱκετηρίαι γοῦν αὐτίκα Δηοῦς
καὶ χολῆς πόσις καὶ καρδιαλγίαι. Ἐφ’
οἷς καί τι τραγοσκελὲς μίμημα παθαινόμενον
περὶ τοῖς διδύμοις, ὅτιπερ ὁ Ζεύς,
δίκας ἀποτιννὺς τῆς βίας τῇ Δήμητρι,
τράγου ὄρχεις ἀποτεμών, τῷ κόλπῳ
ταύτης κατέθετο ὥσπερ δὴ καὶ ἑαυτοῦ
(compare Arnobius, Adversus nationes,
v. 20-23); Schol. on Plato, Gorgias,
p. 497 c, Ἐτελεῖτο δὲ ταῦτα (the Eleusinian
mysteries) καὶ Δηοῖ καὶ Κορῇ,
ὅτι ταύτην μὲν Πλούτων ἁρπάξειε, Δηοῖ
δὲ μιγείη Ζεύς; Hippolytus, Refutatio
omnium haeresium, v. 8, pp. 162,
164, ed. Duncker and Schneidewin,
Λέγουσι δὲ αύτον (God), φησί, Φρύγες
καὶ χλοερὸν στάχυν τεθερισμένον, καὶ
μετὰ τοὺς Φρύγας Ἀθηναῖοι μυοῦντες
Ἐλευσίνια, καὶ ἐπιδεικνύντες τοῖς ἐποπτεύουσι
τὸ μέγα καὶ θαυμαστὸν καὶ
τελειότατον ἐποπτικὸν ἐκεῖ μυστήριον
ἐν σιωπῇ, τεθερισμένον στάχυν. Ὁ δὲ
στάχυς οὗτός ἐστι καὶ παρὰ Ἀθηναίοις
ὁ παρὰ τοῦ ἀχαρακτηρίστου φωστὴρ
τέλειος μέγας, καθάπερ αὐτὸς ὁ ἱεροφάντης,
οὐκ ἀποκεκομμένος μέν, ὡς ὁ
Ἄττις, εὐνουχισμένος δὲ διὰ κωνείου
καὶ πᾶσαν παρῃτημένος τὴν σαρκικὴν
γένεσιν, νυκτὸς ἐν Ἐλευσῖνι ὑπὸ πολλῷ
πυρὶ τελῶν τὰ μεγάλα καὶ ἄρρητα
μυστήρια βοᾷ καὶ κέκραγε λέγων· ἱερὸν
ἔτεκε πότνια κοῦρον Βριμὼ Βριμόν,
τουτέστιν ἰσχυρὰ ἰσχυρόν. In combining
and interpreting this fragmentary
evidence I have followed Mr. P.
Foucart (Recherches sur l’origine et la
nature des mystères d’Eleusis, Paris,
1895, pp. 48 sq.; id., Les Grands Mystères
d’Eleusis, Paris, 1900, p. 69), and Miss
J. E. Harrison (Prolegomena to the Study
of Greek Religion, pp. 549 sqq.). In
antiquity it was believed that an
ointment or plaster of hemlock applied
to the genital organs prevented them
from discharging their function. See
Dioscorides, De materia medica, iv.
79; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxv. 154.
Dr. J. B. Bradbury, Downing Professor
of Medicine in the University of
Cambridge, informs me that this belief is
correct. “Although conium [hemlock]
is not used as an anaphrodisiac at the
present day, there can be no doubt
that it has this effect. When rubbed
into the skin it depresses sensory
nerve-endings and is absorbed. After
absorption it depresses all sympathetic
nerve-cells. Both these effects would
tend to diminish organic reflexes such
as aphrodisia” (Dr. W. E. Dixon,
Pharmacological Laboratory, Cambridge).
Pausanias seems to imply
that the hierophant was forbidden to
marry (ii. 14. 1). It may have been
so in his age, the second century of
our era; but an inscription of the first
century B.C. shews that at that time it
was lawful for him to take a wife. See
P. Foucart, Les Grands Mystères
d’Eleusis, pp. 26 sqq. (extract from the
Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions
et Belles-Lettres, vol. xxxvii.).
469. Pausanias, ix. 3; Plutarch, quoted
by Eusebius, Praepar. Evang. iii. 1 sq.
474. J. Brand, Popular Antiquities, i.
318 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
p. 178.
475. W. Hone, Every Day Book, ii.
595 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Baumkultus,
p. 178.
476. With regard to Zeus as an oak-god
see below, pp. 358sq. Hera appears
with an oak-tree and her sacred bird the
peacock perched on it in a group which
is preserved in the Palazzo degli Conservatori
at Rome. In the same group
Pallas is represented with her olive-tree
and her owl; so that the conjunction of
the oak with Hera cannot be accidental.
See W. Helbig, Führer durch die öffentlichen
Sammlungen klassischen Altertümer
in Rom 2nd Ed., (Leipsic, 1899), i. 397,
No. 587.
478. At Cnossus in Crete, Diodorus
Siculus, v. 72; at Samos, Lactantius,
Instit. i. 17 (compare Augustine,
De civitate Dei, vi. 7); at Athens,
Photius, Lexicon, s.v. ἱερὸν γάμον;
Etymologicum Magnum, s.v. ἱερομνήμονες,
p. 468. 52. A fragment of Pherecydes
relating to the marriage of Zeus
and Hera came to light some years ago.
See Grenfell and Hunt, New Classical
and other Greek and Latin Papyri
(Oxford, 1897), p. 23; H. Weil, in
Revue des Études grecques, x. (1897)
pp. 1-9. The subject has been discussed
by W. H. Roscher (Juno und
Hera, Leipsic, 1875, pp. 72 sqq.).
From the wide prevalence of the rite
he infers that the custom of the sacred
marriage was once common to all the
Greek tribes.
479. Iliad, xiv. 347 sqq. Hera was
worshipped under the title of Flowery
at Argos (Pausanias, ii. 22. 1; compare
Etymol. Magn.s.v. Ἄνθεια, p. 108,
line 48), and women called Flower-bearers
served in her sanctuary (Pollux,
iv. 78). A great festival of gathering
flowers was celebrated by Peloponnesian
women in spring (Hesychius, s.v.
ἠροσάνθεια, compare Photius, Lexicon,
s.v. Ἠροάνθια). The first of May is still
a festival of flowers in Peloponnese.
See Folk-lore, i. (1890) pp. 518 sqq.
480. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 176; P. Herrmann, Nordische
Mythologie (Leipsic, 1903), pp. 198
sqq., 217, 520, 529; E. H. Meyer,
Mythologie der Germanen (Strasburg,
1903), pp. 366 sq. The procession of
Frey and his wife in the waggon is
doubtless the same with the procession
of Nerthus in a waggon which Tacitus
describes (Germania, 40). Nerthus
seems to be no other than Freya, the
wife of Frey. See the commentators
on Tacitus, l.c., and especially K.
Müllenhoff, Deutsche Altertumskunde,
iv. (Berlin, 1900) pp. 468 sq.
481. Gregory of Tours, De gloria confessorum,
77 (Migne’s Patrologia
Latina, lxxi. col. 884). Compare
Sulpicius Severus, Vita S. Martini,
12: “Quia esset haec Gallorum
rusticis consuetudo, simulacra daemonum
candido tecta velamine misera
per agros suos circumferre dementia.”
482. “Passio Sancti Symphoriani,”
chs. 2 and 6 (Migne’s Patrologia Graeca,
v. 1463, 1466).
483. These crazy wretches castrate men
and mutilate women. Hence they are
known as the Skoptsy (“mutilated”).
See N. Tsakni, La Russie sectaire, pp.
74 sqq.
484. As to this feature in the ritual of
Cybele, see Adonis, Attis, Osiris,
Second Edition, pp. 219 sqq.
485. Max Buch, Die Wotjäken (Stuttgart,
1882), p. 137.
486. E. A. Gait, in Census of India,
1901, vol. vi. part i. p. 190.
487. P. J. de Arriaga, Extirpacion de
la idolatria del Piru (Lima, 1621),
p. 20.
488. Father Lacombe, in Missions Catholiques, ii. (1869) pp. 359 sq.
489. Relations des Jésuites, 1636, p.
109, and 1639, p. 95 (Canadian reprint);
Charlevoix, Histoire de la Nouvelle
France, v. 225; Chateaubriand,
Voyage en Amérique (Paris, 1870), pp.
140-142.
490. Rev. F. Hahn, “Some Notes
on the Religion and Superstitions of
the Orāos,” Journal of the Asiatic
Society of Bengal, lxxii. part iii. (Calcutta,
1904) p. 12. For another
account of the ceremonies held by the
Oraons in spring see above, pp. 76sq.
491. P. Rascher, “Die Sulka,” Archiv
für Anthropologie, xxix. (1904) p.
217.
492. W. Crooke, Popular Religion and
Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), ii. 118.
494. A. B. Ellis, The Ewe-speaking
Peoples of the Slave Coast, pp. 139-142.
495. Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second
Edition, pp. 58 sq.
496. Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda
Protectorate (London, 1902), ii. 677.
497. From notes sent to me by Mr.
A. C. Hollis, 21st May 1908.
498. J. G. Scott and J. P. Hardiman,
Gazetteer of Upper Burma and the
Shan States, part ii. vol. i. (Rangoon,
1901) p. 439.
499. E. W. Lane, Manners and Customs
of the Modern Egyptians (Paisley
and London, 1895), chap. xxvi. p.
500. The authority for the statement
is the Arab historian Makrizi.
500. The North China Herald, 4th May
1906, p. 235.
501. G. A. Wilken, “Het animisme
bij de volken van den Indischen Archipel,”
De Indische Gids, June 1884, p.
994 (referring to Veth, Het eiland
Timor, p. 21); A. Bastian, Indonesien,
ii. (Berlin, 1885) p. 8.
503. A. Bastian, Indonesien, i. (Berlin,
1884) p. 134.
504. Voyages d’Ibn Batoutah, texte
arabe, accompagné d’une traduction,
par C. Defrémery et B. R. Sanguinetti
(Paris, 1853-1858), iv. 126-130.
505. The Thanda Pulayans, on the west
coast of India, think that the phosphorescence
on the surface of the sea
indicates the presence of the spirits of
their ancestors, who are fishing in the
backwaters. See E. Thurston, Ethnographic
Notes in Southern India, p.
293. Similarly the Sulkas of New
Britain fancy that the mysterious glow
comes from souls bathing in the water.
See P. Rascher, “Die Sulka,” Archiv
für Anthropologie, xxix. (1904) p. 216.
506. For a list of these tales, with
references to the authorities, see my
note on Pausanias, ix. 26. 7. To the
examples there referred to add I. V.
Zingerle, Kinder- und Hausmärchen
aus Tirol, Nos. 8, 21, 35, pp. 35 sqq.,
100 sqq., 178 sqq.; G. F. Abbott,
Macedonian Folk-lore, pp. 270 sqq.
This type of story has been elaborately
investigated by Mr. E. S. Hartland
(The Legend of Perseus, London, 1894-1896),
but he has not discussed the
custom of the sacred marriage, on which
the story seems to be founded.
514. T. I. Fairclough, “Notes on the
Basutos,” Journal of the African
Society, No. 14, January 1905, p. 201.
515. To the examples given in my note
on Pausanias viii. 7. 2, add Ph. Paulitschke,
Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas,
die geistige Cultur der Danâkil, Galla
und Somâl (Berlin, 1896), pp. 46, 50;
“De Dajaks op Borneo,” Mededeelingen
van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap,
xiii. (1869) p. 72; A.
D’Orbigny, Voyage dans l’Amérique
Méridionale, ii. 93, 160 (see above,
pp. 16sq.); F. Blumentritt, “Über die
Eingeborenen der Insel Palawan und
der Inselgruppe der Talamianen,”
Globus, lix. (1891) p. 167; W.
Crooke, Popular Religion and Folk-lore
of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), i. 46; Father Guillemé, in
Annales de la Propagation de la Foi,
lx. (1888) p. 252.
516. W. F. W. Owen, Narrative of
Voyages to explore the Shores of Africa,
Arabia, and Madagascar (London,
1833), ii. 354 sq.
517. H. Goldie, Calabar and its
Mission, New Edition (Edinburgh and
London, 1901), p. 43.
518. Annales de la Propagation de la
Foi, xxxiii. (1861) p. 152.
519. Father Guillemé, in Annales de
la Propagation de la Foi, lx. (1888)
p. 253.
520. Brasseur de Bourbourg, Histoire
des nations civilisées du Mexique et de
l’Amérique-Centrale, i. 327 sq.
521. E. Aymonier, “Les Tchames et
leurs religions,” Revue de l’histoire
des religions, xxiv. (1891) p. 213.
522. W. Robertson Smith, Religion of
the Semites, 2nd Ed., pp. 96-104.
523. S. I. Curtiss, Primitive Semitic
Religion To-day (Chicago, 1902), p.
117.
529. S. I. Curtiss, Primitive Semitic
Religion To-day, pp. 116 sq.; Mrs. H.
H. Spoer, “The Powers of Evil in
Jerusalem,” Folk-lore, xviii. (1907) p.
55; A. Jaussen, Coutumes des Arabes
au pays de Moab (Paris, 1908), p. 360.
530. J. M. Mackinlay, Folk-lore of
Scottish Lochs and Springs (Glasgow,
1893), p. 112.
531. A. C. Haddon and C. R. Browne,
“The Ethnography of the Aran
Islands,” Proceedings of the Royal
Irish Academy, ii. (1893), p. 819.
532. R. C. Hope, The Legendary Lore
of the Holy Wells of England (London,
1893), p. 122.
534. See, for example, Pausanias, ii. 15.
5, v. 7. 2 sq., vi. 22. 9, vii. 23. 1 sq.,
viii. 43. 1, ix. 1. 1 sq., ix. 34. 6
and 9.
535. Sophocles, Trachiniae, 6 sqq.
The combat of Hercules with the
bull-shaped river-god in presence of
Dejanira is the subject of a red-figured
vase painting. See Miss J. E. Harrison,
Prolegomena to the Study of Greek
Religion 2nd Ed., (Cambridge, 1908), Fig. 133,
p. 434.
536. Aeschines, Epist. x. The letters
of Aeschines are spurious, but there is
no reason to doubt that the custom
here described was actually observed.
537. See the evidence collected by Mr.
Floyd G. Ballentine, “Some Phases of
the Cult of the Nymphs,” Harvard
Studies in Classical Philology, xv.
(1904) pp. 97 sqq.
538. F. Panzer, Beitrag zur deutschen
Mythologie, i. 107-110, ii. 550. At
Ragusa in Sicily an enormous effigy of
a dragon, with movable tail and eyes,
is carried in procession on St. George’s
Day (April 23rd); and along with it
two huge sugar loaves, decorated with
flowers, figure in the procession. At
the end of the festival these loaves are
broken into little bits, and every farmer
puts one of the pieces in his sowed
fields to ensure a good crop. See G.
Pitrè, Feste patronali in Sicilia (Turin
and Palermo, 1900), pp. 323 sq. In
this custom the fertility charm remains,
though the marriage ceremony appears
to be absent. As to the mummers’
play of St. George, see E. K. Chambers,
The Mediaeval Stage (Oxford,
1903), i. 205 sqq.; A. Beatty, “The
St. George, or Mummers’, Plays,” Transactions
of the Wisconsin Academy
of Sciences, Arts, and Letters, xv. part
ii. (October, 1906) pp. 273-324. A
separate copy of the latter work was
kindly sent to me by the author.
539. See F. N. Taillepied, Recueil des
Antiquitez et singularitez de la ville
de Rouen (Rouen, 1587), pp. 93-105;
A. Floquet, Histoire du privilége de
Saint Romain (2 vols. 8vo, Rouen,
1833). Briefer notices of the custom
and legend will be found in A.
Bosquet’s La Normandie romanesque
et merveilleuse (Paris and Rouen,
1845), pp. 405-409; and A. de
Nore’s Coutumes, mythes, et traditions
des provinces de France (Paris
and Lyons, 1846), pp. 245-250. The
gilt fierte, or portable shrine of St.
Romain, is preserved in the Chapter
Library of the Cathedral at Rouen,
where I saw it in May 1902. It is
in the form of a chapel, on the roof of
which the saint stands erect, trampling
on the winged dragon, while the condemned
prisoner kneels in front of
him. This, however, is not the
original shrine, which was so decayed
that in 1776 the Chapter decided to
replace it by another. See Floquet,
op. cit. ii. 338-346. The custom of
carrying the dragons in procession was
stopped in 1753 because of its tendency
to impair the solemnity of
the ceremony (Floquet, op. cit. ii. 301).
Even more famous than the dragon of
Rouen was the dragon of Tarascon, an
effigy of which used to be carried in
procession on Whitsunday. See A. de
Nore, op. cit. pp. 47 sqq. As to other
French dragons see P. Sébillot, Le
Folk-lore de France, i. (Paris, 1904)
pp. 468-470.
543. Wernicke, in Pauly-Wissowa,
Real-Encyklopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft,
ii. coll. 1343, 1351.
544. Plutarch, De fortuna Romanorum,
9. This statement would be
strongly confirmed by etymology if
we could be sure that, as Mr. A. B.
Cook has suggested, the name Egeria
is derived from a root aeg meaning
“oak.” The name is spelt Aegeria
by Valerius Maximus (i. 2. 1). See
A. B. Cook, “Zeus, Jupiter, and the
Oak,” Classical Review, xviii. (1904)
p. 366; id. “The European Sky-God,”
Folk-lore, xvi. (1905) pp. 283
sq.; and as to the root aeg see O.
Schrader, Reallexikon der indogermanischen
Atertumskunde (Strasburg,
1901), p. 164.
545. Festus, s.v. “Querquetulanae,” pp.
260, 261, ed. C. O. Müller.
551. The first, I believe, to point out
a parallelism in detail between Rome
and Aricia was Mr. A. B. Cook
(Classical Review, xvii. (1902) pp.
376 sqq.); but from the similarity he
inferred the humanity of the Arician
priests rather than the divinity of the
Roman kings. A fuller consideration
of all the evidence has since led him,
rightly as I conceive, to reverse the
inference. See his articles “Zeus,
Jupiter, and the Oak,” The Classical
Review, xviii. (1904) pp. 360-375;
“The European Sky-God,” Folk-lore,
xvi. (1905) pp. 260-332. In the first
and second editions of this work I had
suggested that the regifugium at Rome
may have been a relic of a rule of
succession to the throne like that which
obtained at Nemi. The following discussion
of the religious position of the
old Latin kings owes much to Mr.
Cook’s sagacity and learning, of which
he freely imparted to me.
552. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. iii. 61 sq., iv. 74, v. 35;
B. G. Niebuhr, History of Rome, ii.
36; Th. Mommsen, History of Rome,
New Edition (London, 1894), i. 83;
A. J. H. Greenidge, Roman Public
Life (London, 1901), pp. 44 sq. But
Mommsen, while he held that the
costume of a Roman god and of the
Roman king was the same, denied that
the king personated the god. A truer
historical insight is displayed by K. O.
Müller in his treatment of the subject
(Die Etrusker, Stuttgart, 1877, i. 348
sq.). For a discussion of the evidence
see Th. Mommsen, Römisches Staatsrecht, 3rd Ed.,
i. 372 sq., ii. 5 sq.; J. Marquardt,
Römische Staatsverwaltung, ii.
566 sq., iii. 2nd Ed., 507 sq.; id., Privatleben
der Römer, 2nd Ed., 542 sq.; K. O. Müller,
op. cit. i. 344-350, ii. 198-200; Aust,
s.v. “Juppiter,” in W. H. Roscher’s
Lexikon der griech. u. röm. Mythologie,
ii. coll. 633, 725-728. Among the
chief passages of ancient authors on
the subject are Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
ll.cc.; Strabo, v. 2. 2, p. 220;
Diodorus Siculus, v. 40; Appian, Pun.
66; Zonaras, Annal. vii. 8 and 21;
Livy, i. 8. 1 sq., v. 23. 4 sq., v. 41. 2,
x. 7. 9 sq.; Florus, i. 5. 6; Pliny,
Nat. Hist. viii. 195, xv. 127, 130,
137, xxxiii. 11. 111 sq.; Juvenal, x.
36-43; Ovid, Ex Ponto, ii. 57 sq.;
Macrobius, Saturn. i. 6. 7-9; Servius
on Virgil, Ecl. vi. 22, x. 27; Ael.
Lampridius, Alexander Severus, 40. 8;
Jul. Capitolinus, Gordiani tres, 4. 4;
Aulus Gellius, v. 6. 5-7; Tertullian,
De corona militis, 13. The fullest descriptions
of a Roman triumph are
those of Appian and Zonaras (vii. 21).
553. Camillus triumphed in a chariot
drawn by white horses like the sacred
white horses of Jupiter and the Sun.
His Republican contemporaries were
offended at what they regarded as a
too close imitation of the gods (Livy,
v. 23. 5 sq.; Plutarch, Camillus, 7;
Dio Cassius, lii. 13); but the Roman
emperors followed his example, or
perhaps revived the old custom of the
kings. See Dio Cassius, xliii. 14; Suetonius,
Nero, 25; Pliny, Panegyric, 22;
Propertius, v. 1. 32; Ovid, Ars amat.
i. 214. On the sanctity of white horses
among various branches of the Aryan
stock, see J. von Negelein, “Die volksthümliche
Bedeutung der weissen
Farbe,” Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,
xxxiii. (1901) pp. 62-66; W. Ridgeway,
The Origin and Influence of
the Thoroughbred Horse (Cambridge,
1905), pp. 105, 186, 187, 294, 295,
419. As to the horses of the Sun, see
above, vol. i. pp. 315 sq.
554. Tertullian, De corona militis, 13,
“Coronant et publicos ordines laureis
publicae causae magistratus vero insuper
aureis. Praeferuntur etiam illis
Hetruscae. Hoc vocabulum est coronarum,
quas gemmis et foliis ex auro
quercinis ob Jovem insignes ad deducendas
thensas cum palmatis togis sumunt.”
The thensae were the sacred cars in
which the images of the gods were
carried at the procession of the Circensian
games (see W. Smith’s Dictionary
of Greek and Roman Antiquities, 3rd Ed., s.v.).
That the Etruscan crown described by
Tertullian was the golden crown held
by a slave over the head of a general
on his triumph may be inferred from
Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxxiii. 11, “Vulgoque
sic triumphabant, et cum corona
ex auro Etrusca sustineretur a tergo,
anulus tamen in digito ferreus erat
aeque triumphantis et servi fortasse
coronam sustinentis.” Compare Zonaras,
Annal. vii. 21; Juvenal, x. 38
sqq. Mommsen says that the triumphal
golden crown was made in the
shape of laurel leaves (Römisches
Staatsrecht, i. 3rd Ed., 427); but none of the
ancient authors cited by him appears
to affirm this, with the exception of
Aulus Gellius (v. 6. 5-7, “Triumphales
coronae sunt aureae, quae imperatoribus
ob honorem triumphi mittuntur. Id
vulgo dicitur aurum coronarium. Haec
antiquitus e lauru erant, post fieri ex
aura coeptae”). Gellius may have confused
the wreath of real laurel which
the general wore on his head (Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xxxiii. 127, 130, 137) with
the golden crown which was held over
him by a slave. The two crowns are
clearly distinguished by Zonaras (l.c.),
though he does not describe the shape
of the golden crown. Thus there is
no good ground for rejecting the express
testimony of Tertullian that the
golden crown was shaped like oak-leaves.
This seems to have been
Mommsen’s own earlier opinion, since
he mentions “a chaplet of oaken leaves
in gold” as part of the insignia of the
Roman kings (Roman History, London,
1894, i. 83).
555. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxxiii. 111 sq.;
Servius on Virgil, Ecl. vi. 22, x. 27.
556. Pausanias, ii. 2. 6, vii. 26. 11,
viii. 39. 6. For other examples of
idols painted red see my note on
Pausanias, ii. 2. 6.
557. For instances see Fr. Kunstmann,
“Valentin Ferdinand’s Beschreibung
der Serra Leoa,” Abhandlungen d.
histor. Classe d. kön. Bayer. Akademie
d. Wissenschaften, ix. (Munich, 1866) p.
131; J. B. Labat, Relation historique
de l’Éthiopie Occidentale (Paris, 1732),
i. 250; Gmelin, Reise durch Sibirien,
ii. 476; “Ueber den religiösen Glauben
und die Ceremonien der heidnischen
Samojeden im Kreise Mesen,”
Zeitschrift für allgemeine Erdkunde,
N.F. viii. (1860) p. 59; E. Rae, The
White Sea Peninsula, p. 150; J. B.
Müller, “Les Mœurs et usages des
Ostiackes,” Recueil de voiages au Nord,
viii. (Amsterdam, 1727) pp. 414 sq.;
Delamare, in Annales de la Propagation
de la Foi, xii. (1840) p. 482;
Sahagun, Histoire générale des choses
de la Nouvelle-Espagne (Paris, 1880),
p. 185; J. de Velasco, Histoire du
royaume de Quito, p. 121 (Ternaux-Compans,
Voyages, relations et mémoires,
xviii., Paris, 1840); E. J. Payne,
History of the New World called America,
i. 374 n. 1; F. B. Jevons, Introduction
to the History of Religion
(London, 1896), p. 158. Often we
are merely told that the blood is
smeared or sprinkled on the image.
See A. B. Ellis, Ewe-speaking Peoples
of the Slave Coast, pp. 42, 79; id.,
Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave
Coast, pp. 102, 106; A. F. Mockler-Ferryman,
British Nigeria (London,
1902), p. 255; Fr. Kramer, “Der
Götzendienst der Niasser,” Tijdschrift
voor Indische Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde,
xxxiii. (1890) p. 496. For
more examples see my note on Pausanias,
ii. 2. 6.
558. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xii. 3; Phaedrus,
iii. 17. 1 sqq.; Servius on Virgil,
Georg. iii. 332, and on Ecl. i. 17.
563. Ovid, Fasti, i. 607 sqq., iv. 953
sq. Tiberius refused a similar honour
(Suetonius, Tiberius, 26); but Domitian
seems to have accepted it (Martial,
viii. 82. 7). Two statues of Claudius,
one in the Vatican, the other in the
Lateran Museum, represent the emperor
as Jupiter wearing the oak crown
(W. Helbig, Führer durch die öffentlichen
Sammlungen klassischer Altertümer
in Rom, 2nd Ed., i. Nos. 312, 673).
564. Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum,
viii. No. 6981.
565. J. Overbeck, Griechische Kunstmythologie,
Besonderer Theil, i. 232 sqq.;
L. R. Farnell, The Cults of the Greek
States, i. 107 sq.
567. Antoninus Liberalis, Transform. 6.
For this and the two following passages
of Tzetzes I am indebted to Mr.
A. B. Cook. See further his articles,
“Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak,” Classical
Review, xvii. (1903) p. 409; “The
European Sky-god,” Folk-lore, xv.
(1904) pp. 299 sqq.
568. H. Ebeling, Lexicon Homericum,
s.vv. βασιλεύς, διοτρεφής, and θεῖος.
571. As to the situation, see Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. i. 66; H.
Nissen, Italische Landeskunde, ii. 582
sq.
572. Virgil, Aen. vi. 772. I have to
thank Mr. A. B. Cook for directing
my attention to the Alban kings and
their interesting legends. See his
articles “Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak,”
Classical Review, xviii. (1904) pp.
363 sq.; “The European Sky-god,”
Folk-lore, xvi. (1905) pp. 285 sqq.
573. Virgil, Aen. vi. 760 sqq., with
the commentary of Servius; Livy, i. 3.
6 sqq.; Ovid, Metam. xiv. 609 sqq.;
id., Fasti, iv. 39 sqq.; Festus, s.v.
“Silvi,” p. 340, ed. C. O. Müller;
Aurelius Victor, Origo gentis Romanae,
15-17; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Antiquit. Rom. i. 70; Diodorus
Siculus, in Eusebius, Chronic. i. coll.
285, 287, ed. A. Schoene; Diodorus
Siculus, vii. 3a and 3b, vol. ii. pp.
110-112, ed. L. Dindorf (Teubner
edition); Joannes Lydus, De magistratibus,
i. 21. As to the derivation
of the name Julus, see Aurelius
Victor, op. cit. 15, “Igitur Latini
Ascanium ob insignem virtutem non
solum Jove ortum crediderunt, sed
etiam per diminutionem, declinato paululum
nomine, primo Jobum, dein
postea Julum appellarant”; also Steuding,
in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon d.
griech. u. röm. Mythologie, ii. 574.
Compare W. M. Lindsay, The Latin
Language (Oxford, 1894), p. 250.
According to Diodorus, the priesthood
bestowed on Julus was the pontificate;
but the name Julus or Little Jupiter
suggests that the office was rather that
of Flamen Dialis, who was a sort of
living embodiment of Jupiter (see below,
pp. 191 sq.), and whose name of
Dialis is derived from the same root as
Julus. On the Julii and their relation
to Vejovis see R. H. Klausen, Aeneas
und die Penaten, ii. 1059 sqq.
575. Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum,
xiv. No. 2387; L. Preller, Römische
Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 263 sq. On Vejovis
as the Little Jupiter see Festus, s.v.
“Vesculi,” p. 379, “Ve enim syllabam
rei parvae praeponebant, unde
Veiovem parvum Iovem et vegrandem
fabam minutam dicebant”; also Ovid,
Fasti, iii. 429-448. At Rome the
sanctuary of Vejovis was on the saddle
between the two peaks of the Capitoline
hill (Aulus Gellius, v. 12. 1 sq.;
Ovid, Fasti, iii. 429 sq.); thus he
appropriately dwelt on the same hill
as the Great Jupiter, but lower down
the slope. On coins of the Gargilian,
Ogulnian and Vergilian houses Vejovis
is represented by a youthful beardless
head, crowned with oak. See E.
Babelon, Monnaies de la République
Romaine, i. 532, ii. 266, 529. On
other Republican coins his head is
crowned with laurel. See E. Babelon,
op. cit. i. 77, 505-508, ii. 6, 8. Circensian
games were held at Bovillae
in honour of the Julian family, and
Tiberius dedicated a chapel to them
there. See Tacitus, Annals, ii. 41,
xv. 23.
576. Festus, s.v. “Caesar,” p. 57, ed.
C. O. Müller. Other but less probable
explanations of the name are
suggested by Aelius Spartianus (Helius,
ii. 3 sq.).
577. As to the Frankish kings see
Agathias, Hist. i. 3; J. Grimm,
Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer, pp. 239
sqq.; The Golden Bough, Second
Edition, i. 368 sq.
578. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Roman. i. 71; Diodorus Siculus,
in Eusebius, Chronic. bk. i. coll. 287,
289, ed. A. Schoene; Diodorus Siculus,
vii. 3a and 4, ed. L. Dindorf; Zonaras,
Annal. vii. 1; Aurelius Victor, Origo
gentis Romanae, 18; Ovid, Metam.
xiv. 616-618; id., Fasti, iv. 50; Livy,
i. 3. 9. The king is called Romulus
by Livy, Remulus by Ovid, Aremulus
by Aurelius Victor, Amulius by Zonaras,
Amulius or Arramulius by Diodorus,
and Allodius by Dionysius.
A tale of a city submerged in the Alban
lake is still current in the neighbourhood.
See the English translators’
note to Niebuhr’s History of Rome, 3rd Ed., i.
200. Similar stories are told in many
lands. See my note on Pausanias,
vii. 24. 6.
581. Pliny, Nat. Hist. ii. 140, xxviii.
13 sq. Other writers speak only of
Numa’s skill in expiating the prodigy
or evil omen of thunderbolts. See
Livy, i. 20. 7; Ovid, Fasti, iii. 285-348;
Plutarch, Numa, 15; Arnobius,
Adversus nationes, v. 1-4.
583. Apollodorus, i. 9. 7; Virgil, Aen. vi.
592 sqq.; Pliny, Nat. Hist. ii. 140, xxviii.
14 (referring to the first book of L.
Piso’s Annals); Livy, i. 31. 8; Aurelius
Victor, De viris illustribus, 4; Zonaras,
Annal. vii. 6. According to
another account Tullus Hostilius was
murdered by his successor Ancus Martius
during a violent storm (Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Antiquit. Rom. iii.
35; Zonaras, l.c.).
584. Livy, i. 2. 6; Ovid, Metam. xiv.
598-608; Pliny, Nat. Hist. iii. 56;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. i. 64; Servius on Virgil, Aen.
i. 259; Aurelius Victor, Origo gentis
Romanae, 14. Only the last writer
mentions the thunderstorm.
585. Livy, i. 16; Cicero, De legibus, i.
1. 3; id., De re publica, i. 16. 25,
ii. 10. 20; Ovid, Fasti, ii. 475-512;
Plutarch, Romulus, 27 sq.; Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Antiquit. Rom. ii.
56 and 63; Zonaras, Annal. vii. 4;
Aurelius Victor, De viris illustribus, 2;
Florus, Epitoma, i. 1. 16-18. From
Cicero (De legibus, i. 1. 3) we learn
that the apparition of Romulus to Proculus
Julius took place near the spot
where the house of Atticus afterwards
stood, and from Cornelius Nepos
(Atticus, 13. 2) we know that Atticus
had an agreeable villa and shady
garden on the Quirinal. As to the
temple of Quirinus see also Varro,
De lingua Latina, v. 51; Festus, pp.
254, 255, ed. C. O. Müller; Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xv. 120. As to the site
of the temple and the question whether
it was identical with the temple dedicated
by L. Papirius Cursor in 293 B.C.
(Livy, x. 46. 7; Pliny, Nat. Hist.
vii. 213) see O. Richter, Topographie
der Stadt Rom, 2nd Ed., pp. 286 sqq.; G.
Wissowa, Gesammelte Abhandlungen
(Munich, 1904), pp. 144 sqq.
586. See A. B. Cook, “Zeus, Jupiter,
and the Oak,” Classical Review, xviii.
(1904) pp. 368 sq.; id. “The European
Sky-god,” Folk-lore, xvi. (1905) p.
281. But a serious argument against
the proposed derivation of Quirinus
from quercus is that, as I am informed
by my learned philological friend the
Rev. Prof. J. H. Moulton, it is inconsistent
with the much more probable
derivation of Perkunas from quercus.
See below, p. 367, note 3.
588. J. I. Molina, Geographical, Natural,
and Civil History of Chili (London,
1809), ii. 92 sq. The savage
Conibos of the Ucayali river in eastern
Peru imagine that thunder is the voice
of the dead (W. Smyth and F. Lowe,
Journey from Lima to Para, London,
1836, p. 240); and among them when
parents who have lost a child within
three months hear thunder, they go
and dance on the grave, howling turn
about (De St. Cricq, “Voyage du Pérou
au Brésil,” Bulletin de la Société de
Géographie, ivme série, vi., Paris, 1853,
p. 294). The Yuracares of eastern Peru
threaten the thunder-god with their
arrows and defy him when he thunders
(A. D’Orbigny, L’Homme américain, i.
365), just as the Thracians did of old
(Herodotus, iv. 94). So the Kayans of
Borneo, on hearing a peal of thunder,
have been seen to grasp their swords
for the purpose of keeping off the
demon who causes it (A. W. Nieuwenhuis,
In Centraal Borneo, i. 140 sq.,
146 sq.).
589. See above, vol. i. p. 310; and for
the connexion of the rite with Jupiter
Elicius see O. Gilbert, Geschichte und
Topographie der Stadt Rom im Altertum,
ii. 154 sq.; Aust, in W. H.
Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm.
Mythologie, ii. 657 sq. As to the connexion
of Jupiter with the rain-making
ceremony (aquaelicium), the combined
evidence of Petronius (Sat. 44) and
Tertullian (Apologeticus, 40) seems to
me conclusive.
590. Ovid, Fasti, i. 637 sq., vi. 183
sqq.; Livy, vii. 28. 4 sq.; Cicero, De
divinatione, i. 45. 101; Solinus, i. 21.
Although the temple was not dedicated
until 344 B.C., the worship of the
goddess of the hill appears to have been
very ancient. See H. Jordan, Topographie
der Stadt Rom im Altertum,
i. 2, pp. 109 sq.; W. H. Roscher,
Lexikon d. griech. u. röm. Mythologie,
ii. coll. 592 sq.
591. Livy, i. 8. 5; Ovid, Fasti, iii. 430;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. ii. 15.
595. Mons Querquetulanus; see Tacitus,
Annals, iv. 65.
596. A monument found at Rome represents
Jupiter beside an oak, and
underneath is the dedication: Jovi
Caelio. See H. Dessau, Inscriptiones
Latinae selectae, No. 3080.
597. Porta Querquetulana or Querquetularia;
see Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 37;
Festus, pp. 260, 261, ed. C. O.
Müller.
598. Festus, ll.cc.; Varro, De lingua
Latina, v. 49.
599. E. Babelon, Monnaies de la République
Romaine, i. 99 sq.
600. Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 49,
where, however, “alii ab aesculetis”
is a conjecture of C. O. Müller’s. I
do not know what authority O. Richter
has for reading aesculis consitae
(“planted with oaks”) for excultae in
this passage (Topographie der Stadt
Rom, 2nd Ed., p. 302, n. 4). Modern topographers
prefer to derive the name
from ex-colere in the sense of “the hill
outside the city” (O. Richter, l.c.; O.
Gilbert, Geschichte und Topographie der
Stadt Rom im Altertum, i. 166 sq.).
603. See above, vol. i. p. 18; and for
the identification, O. Gilbert, Geschichte
und Topographie der Stadt Rom im
Altertum, ii. 152 sqq.; A. B. Cook,
“Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak,” Classical
Review, xviii. (1904) p. 366.
605. G. Boni, in Notizie degli Scavi,
May 1900, pp. 161, 172; id., Aedes
Vestae, p. 14 (extract from the Nuova
Antologia, 1st August 1900). Copies
of these and other papers containing
Commendatore Boni’s account of his
memorable excavations and discoveries
were kindly given me by him during
my stay in Rome in the winter of 1900-1901.
That the fire in question was a
sacrificial one is proved by the bones,
potsherds, and rude copper money
found among the ashes. Commend.
Boni thinks that the charred remains
of the wood prove that the fire was
extinguished, probably by libations,
and that therefore it cannot have been
the perpetual holy fire of Vesta, which
would have burned up completely all
the fuel. But a new fire was annually
lit on the first of March (Ovid, Fasti,
iii. 143 sq.; Macrobius, Saturn. i. 12.
6), which may imply that the old fire
was ceremonially extinguished, as often
happens in such cases.
607. O. Richter, Topographie der Stadt
Rom, 2nd Ed., p. 211.
608. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 237. The
inscription was probably not in the
Etruscan language, but only in an
archaic alphabet like that employed in
the inscription on the pyramidal stone
which has been found under the Black
Stone in the Forum.
609. G. Boni, “Bimbi Romulei,” Nuova
Antologia, 16th February 1904, pp. 5
sqq. (separate reprint); E. Burton-Brown,
Recent Excavations in the
Roman Forum (London, 1904), p. 150.
610. Festus, s.v. “Oscillantes,” p. 194,
ed. C. O. Müller.
611. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. iv. 49; A. Schwegler,
Römische Geschichte, i. 341; H. Nissen,
Italische Landeskunde, ii. 580. It is
to be observed that Dionysius does not
here speak of the dedication of a temple
to Jupiter; when he describes the
foundation of the temple of Capitoline
Jupiter by Tarquin (iv. 59 and 61)
his language is quite different. The
monastery, founded in 1777 by Cardinal
York, the last of the Stuarts, has now
been converted into a meteorological
station and an inn (K. Baedeker, Central
Italy and Rome, 13th Ed., p. 400). It is fitting
enough that the atmospheric phenomena
should be observed by modern science
on the spot where they were worshipped
by ancient piety.
613. According to tradition, the future
site of Alba Longa was marked out by
a white sow and her litter, which were
found lying under evergreen oaks (Virgil,
Aen. viii. 43), as Mr. A. B. Cook
has pointed out (Classical Review,
xviii. 363). The tradition seems to
shew that the neighbourhood of the city
was wooded with oaks.
615. Querquetulani. See Pliny, Nat.
Hist. iii. 69; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Antiquit. Rom. v. 61. As to the
white bulls sacrificed at the great
Latin festival and partaken of by the
members of the League, see Arnobius,
Adversus nationes, ii. 68; Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. iv. 49.
Compare Cicero, Pro Plancio, ix. 23;
Varro, De lingua Latina, vi. 25.
617. Arnobius, Adversus nationes, ii.
68; Livy, xxii. 10. 7; Ovid, Ex Ponto,
iv. 4. 31; Servius on Virgil, Georg.
ii. 146; Horace, Carmen Saeculare, 49.
619. “Italic and Keltic are so closely
bound together by important phonetic
and morphological affinities that they
are sometimes spoken of as one branch”
of Aryan speech (J. H. Moulton, Two
Lectures on the Science of Language,
Cambridge, 1903, p. 6, note). “The
connection of the Celtic and Italic
languages is structural. It is much
deeper than that of Celts and Teutons,
and goes back to an earlier epoch.
Celts and Latins must have dwelt
together as an undivided people in the
valley of the Danube, and it must have
been at a much later time—after the
Umbrians and Latins had crossed the
Alps—that the contact of Celts and
Teutons came about” (Isaac Taylor,
The Origin of the Aryans, p. 192;
compare id. p. 257). See also P.
Giles, Manual of Comparative Philology 2nd Ed.,
(London, 1901), p. 26.
620. Livy, xlii. 7. 1, xlv. 15. 10. Compare
Dio Cassius, xxxix. 20. 1. The
temple on the Alban Mount was dedicated
in 168 B.C., but the worship was
doubtless far older.
622. Strabo, vii. 7. 12, p. 329; Hyperides,
Or. iii. coll. 35-37, pp. 43 sq.,
ed. Blass; G. Curtius, Griech. Etymologie, 5th Ed.,
p. 236; W. H. Roscher,
Juno und Hera (Leipsic, 1875), pp. 17
sq.; id., Lexikon d. griech. u. röm.
Mythologie, ii. coll. 576, 578 sq. See
below, p. 381.
624. W. H. Roscher, Juno und Hera,
pp. 64 sqq.; id., Lexikon d. griech. u.
röm. Mythologie, ii. 575 sq., 591 sqq.
At Falerii the image of Juno was
annually carried in procession from her
sacred grove, and in some respects the
ceremony resembled a marriage procession
(Ovid, Amores, iii. 13; Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Antiquit. Rom.
i. 21). The name of June was Junius
at Rome, Junonius at Aricia, Laurentum
and Lavinia, and Junonalis at
Tibur and Praeneste (Ovid, Fasti, vi.
59-63; Macrobius, Sat. i. 12. 30).
The forms Junonius and Junonalis are
recognised by Festus (p. 103, ed. C. O.
Müller). Their existence among the
Latins seems to render the derivation
of Junius from Juno quite certain,
though that derivation is doubted by
Mr. W. Warde Fowler (Roman Festivals
of the Period of the Republic, pp. 99
sq.).
625. Ovid, Fasti, vi. 101-168; Macrobius,
Sat. i. 12. 31-33; Tertullian,
Ad nationes, ii. 9; Varro, quoted by
Nonius Marcellus, De compendiosa
doctrina, p. 390, ed. L. Quicherat.
There was a sacred beechen grove of
Diana on a hill called Corne near Tusculum
(Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 242). But
Corne has probably no connection with
Carna. The grove of Helernus was
crowded with worshippers on the first
of February (Ovid, Fasti, ii. 67, where
Helerni is a conjectural emendation
for Averni or Asyli). Nothing else is
known about Helernus, unless with
Merkel (in his edition of Ovid’s Fasti,
pp. cxlviii. sq.) we read Elerno for
Eterno in Festus, p. 93, ed. C. O.
Müller. In that case it would seem
that black oxen were sacrificed to him.
From the association of Carna with
Janus it was inferred by Merkel (l.c.)
that the grove of Helernus stood on or
near the Janiculum, where there was a
grove of oaks (see above, p. 186). But
the language of Ovid (Fasti, ii. 67)
points rather to the mouth of the Tiber.
627. Ovid, Fasti, vi. 129-168. A
Roman bride on the way to her husband’s
house was preceded by a boy
bearing a torch of buckthorn (spina
alba, Festus, s.v. “Patrimi,” p. 245,
ed. C. O. Müller; Varro, quoted by
Nonius Marcellus, De compendiosa
doctrina, s.v. “Fax,” p. 116, ed. L.
Quicherat). The intention probably
was to defend her from enchantment
and evil spirits. Branches of buckthorn
were also thought to protect a
house against thunderbolts (Columella,
De re rustica, x. 346 sq.).
633. Plutarch, Quaest. Rom. 111 εἰκὸς
μὲν οὖν ἐστι καὶ τὸν ἱερέα τοῦ Διὸς ὥσπερ
ἔμψυχον καὶ ἱερὸν ἄγαλμα καταφύξιμον
ἀνεῖσθαι τοῖς δεομένοις; L. Preller,
Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 201; F. B.
Jevons, Plutarch’s Romane Questions,
p. lxxiii.; C. Julian, in Daremberg et
Saglio, Dictionnaire des antiquités
grecques et romaines, ii. 1156 sqq.
634. Cicero, De re publica, iii. 13. 22;
Virgil, Aen. x. 112; Horace, Sat.
ii. 1. 42 sq.; Ovid, Fasti, vi. 37;
Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 6. 7;
Livy, v. 21. 2, v. 23. 7; Pliny, Nat.
Hist. xxxv. 115; Flavius Vopiscus,
Probus, xii. 7; L. Preller, Römische
Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 205, 284; W. H.
Roscher, Lexikon d. griech. u. röm.
Mythologie, ii. 600 sqq.
636. Cicero, Philippics, ii. 43. 110;
Suetonius, Divus Julius, 76; Dio
Cassius, xliv. 6. The coincidence has
been pointed out by Mr. A. B. Cook
(Classical Review, xviii. 371).
638. Numa was not the only Roman
king who is said to have enjoyed the
favours of a goddess. Romulus was
married to Hersilia, who seems to have
been a Sabine goddess. Ovid tells us
how, when the dead Romulus had been
raised to the rank of a god under the
name of Quirinus, his widow Hersilia
was deified as his consort. Thus, if
Quirinus was a Sabine oak-god, his
wife would be an oak-goddess, like
Egeria. See Ovid, Metam. xiv. 829-851.
Compare Livy, i. 11. 2;
Plutarch, Numa, 14. On Hersilia as
a goddess see A. Schwegler, Römische
Geschichte, i. 478, note 10; L. Preller,
Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 372. Again,
of King Servius Tullius we read how
the goddess Fortuna, smitten with love
of him, used to enter his house nightly
by a window. See Ovid, Fasti, vi. 569
sqq.; Plutarch, Quaestiones Romanae,
36; id., De fortuna Romanorum, 10.
However, the origin and nature of
Fortuna are too obscure to allow us
to base any conclusions on this legend.
For various more or less conjectural
explanations of the goddess see W.
Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of the
Period of the Republic, pp. 161-172.
639. Plutarch, De fortuna Romanorum,
10; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Antiquit. Rom. iv. 1 sq.; Ovid,
Fasti, vi. 627-636; Pliny, Nat. Hist.
ii. 241, xxxvi. 204; Livy, i. 39;
Servius on Virgil, Aen. ii. 683;
Arnobius, Adversus nationes, v. 18.
According to the Etruscan annals,
Servius Tullius was an Etruscan by
name Mastarna, who came to Rome
with his friend Caeles Vibenna, and,
changing his name, obtained the
kingdom. This was stated by the
Emperor Claudius in a speech of which
fragments are engraved on a bronze
tablet found at Lyons. See Tacitus,
Annals, ed. Orelli, 2nd Ed., p. 342. As the
emperor wrote a history of Etruria
in twenty books (Suetonius, Divus
Claudius, 42) he probably had some
authority for the statement, and the
historical, or at least legendary,
character of Mastarna and Caeles
Vibenna is vouched for by a painting
inscribed with their names, which
was found in 1857 in an Etruscan
tomb at Vulci. See G. Dennis, Cities
and Cemeteries of Etruria, 3rd Ed., ii. 506 sq.
But from this it by no means follows
that the identification of Mastarna
with Servius Tullius was correct.
Schwegler preferred the Roman to
the Etruscan tradition (Römische
Geschichte, i. 720 sq.), and so, after
long hesitation, did Niebuhr (History
of Rome, 3rd Ed., i. 380 sqq.). It is fair to
add that both these historians wrote
before the discovery of the tomb at
Vulci.
640. A. Schwegler, Römische Geschichte,
i. 715; L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
ii. 344.
645. Aulus Gellius, i. 12, 14 and 19.
Compare L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
ii, 161, 344. There was a
very ancient worship of Vesta at
Lavinium, the city named after Amata’s
daughter Lavinia, the ancestress of the
Alban kings. See above, vol. i. p. 14.
647. Virgil, Aen. ii. 680-686. We
may compare the halo with which the
vainglorious and rascally artist of genius,
Benvenuto Cellini, declared his head to
be encircled. “Ever since the time of
my strange vision until now,” says he,
“an aureole of glory (marvellous to
relate) has rested on my head. This
is visible to every sort of men to whom
I have chosen to point it out; but
those have been very few. This halo
can be observed above my shadow in
the morning from the rising of the sun
for about two hours, and far better
when the grass is drenched with dew.
It is also visible at evening about sunset.
I became aware of it in France
at Paris; for the air in those parts is so
much freer from mist, that one can see it
there far better manifested than in Italy,
mists being far more frequent among
us.” See The Life of Benvenuto
Cellini, translated by J. Addington
Symonds 3rd Ed., (London, 1889), pp. 279
sq.
651. Apollodorus iii. 14. 6; Schol. on
Homer, Iliad, ii. 547; J. Tzetzes,
Chiliades, v. 669 sq.; Augustine, De
civitate Dei, xviii. 12.
652. Pausanias i. 26. 6 sq.; Strabo ix.
1. 16, p. 396; Plutarch, Numa, 9; id.,
Sulla, 13. As to the identity of
Erechtheus and Erichthonius see my
note on Pausanias, i. 18. 2 (vol. ii. p.
169).
654. The theory was formerly advocated
by me (Journal of Philology,
xiv. (1885) pp. 154 sqq.) As to the
duties of the Vestals see J. Marquardt,
Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., pp.
342 sqq.
655. This explanation was first, so far
as I know, given by me in my Lectures
on the Early History of the Kingship
(London, 1905), p. 221. It has since
been adopted by Mr. E. Fehrle (Die
kultische Keuschheit im Altertum,
Giessen, 1910, pp. 210 sqq.).
656. Aulus Gellius, xiv. 7. 7. Compare
Servius on Virgil, Aen. vii. 153,
ix. 4.
658. Festus, s.v. “penus,” p. 250, ed.
C. O. Müller, where for saepius we
must obviously read saeptus.
659. Ovid, Fasti, i. 199, iii. 183 sq.;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. i. 79. 11. For the situation
of the hut see also Plutarch, Romulus,
20.
660. Conon, Narrationes, 48; Vitruvius,
ii. 1. 5, p. 35, ed. Rose and
Müller-Strübing; Macrobius, Saturn.
i. 15. 10. Compare Virgil, Aen.
viii. 653 sq. As to the two huts on
the Palatine and the Capitol see A.
Schwegler, Römische Geschichte, i.
394; L. Jahn on Macrobius, l.c.
661. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant.
Rom. ii. 66; Plutarch, Numa, 11
and 14; Solinus, i. 21; Ovid, Fasti,
vi. 263 sqq.; id., Tristia, iii. 1. 29
sq.; Tacitus, Annals, xv. 41.
662. Servius on Virgil, Aen. viii.
363. Festus, however, distinguishes
the old royal palace (Regia) from the
house of the King of the Sacred Rites
(s.v. “Sacram viam,” pp. 290, 293,
ed. C. O. Müller). In classical times
the Regia was the residence or office of
the Pontifex Maximus; but we can
hardly doubt that formerly it was the
house of the Rex Sacrorum. See O.
Gilbert, Geschichte und Topographie
der Stadt Rom im Altertum, i. 225,
235 sq., 341, 344. As to the existing
remains of the Regia, the temple
of Vesta, and the house of the Vestals,
see O. Richter, Topographie der Stadt
Rom, 2nd Ed., pp. 88 sqq.; Ch. Huelsen, Die
Ausgrabungen auf dem Forum Romanum 2nd Ed.,
(Rome, 1903), pp. 62 sqq.,
88 sqq.; Mrs. E. Burton-Brown,
Recent Excavations in the Roman
Forum (London, 1904), pp. 26 sqq.
663. Dio Cassius, liv. 27, who tells us
that Augustus annexed the house of
the King of the Sacred Rites to the
house of the Vestals, on which it
abutted.
664. Many such phenomena are noted
by Julius Obsequens in his book of
prodigies, appended to W. Weissenborn’s
edition of Livy, vol. x. 2, pp.
193 sqq. (Berlin, 1881).
665. W. Helbig, Die Italiker in der
Poebene, pp. 50-55; E. Burton-Brown,
Recent Excavations in the Roman
Forum, pp. 30, 152, 154. For
pictures of these hut-urns see G. Boni
in Notizie degli Scavi, May 1900, p.
191, fig. 52; id., in Nuova Antologia,
August 1900, p. 22.
666. Valerius Maximus, iv. 4. 11; Ovid,
Fasti, vi. 310; Acron on Horace,
Odes, i. 31, quoted by G. Boni in
Notizie degli Scavi, May 1900, p. 179;
Cicero, Paradoxa, i. 2; id., De natura
deorum, iii. 17. 43; Persius, Sat. ii.
59 sq.; Juvenal, Sat. vi. 342 sqq.
667. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant.
Rom. ii. 23. On earthenware vessels
used in religious rites see also Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xxxv. 108, “In sacris
quidem etiam inter has opes hodie non
murrinis crystallinisve, sed fictilibus
prolibatur simpulis”; Apuleius, De
magia, 18, “Eadem paupertas etiam
populo Romano imperium a primordio
fundavit, proque eo in hodiernum diis
immortalibus simpuvio et catino fictili
sacrificat.”
668. G. Boni in Notizie degli Scavi,
May 1900, p. 179; E. Burton-Brown,
Recent Excavations in the Roman
Forum, pp. 23 sq., 41.
669. W. Helbig, Die Italiker in der
Poebene, pp. 82 sqq.
671. G. Henzen, Acta Fratrum Arvalium
(Berlin, 1874), pp. 26, 30; H.
Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae selectae,
No. 5039; J. Marquardt, Römische
Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 456.
672. W. Helbig, Die Italiker in der
Poebene, p. 87.
673. G. Wilmanns, Exempla inscriptionum
Latinarum, Nos. 311, 986,
1326, 1331; H. Dessau, Inscriptiones
Latinae selectae, Nos. 456, 3314, 4926,
4933, 4936, 4942, 4943. Modern
writers, following Varro (De lingua
Latina, vii. 44, “fictores dicti a fingendis
libis”), explain these fictores as
bakers of sacred cakes. See Ch. A.
Lobeck, Aglaophamus, pp. 1084 sq.;
J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung,
iii. 2nd Ed., 249. They may be right,
but it is to be observed that Varro does
not expressly refer to the fictores of the
Vestals and Pontiffs, and further, that
in Latin fictor commonly means a
potter, not a baker, for which the
regular word is pistor.
674. A. d’Orbigny, Voyage dans
l’Amérique Méridionale, iii. (Paris
and Strasburg, 1844) p. 194. Much
of d’Orbigny’s valuable information as
to this tribe was drawn from the manuscript
of Father Lacueva, a Spanish
Franciscan monk of wealthy family
and saint-like character, who spent
eighteen or twenty years among the
Yuracares in a vain attempt to convert
them. With regard to the crops
mentioned in the text, these savages
plant banana-trees, manioc, sugar-cane,
and vegetables round about their huts,
which they erect in clearings of the
forest. See d’Orbigny, op. cit. iii.
196 sq.
675. H. A. Junod, “Les Conceptions
physiologiques des Bantou Sud-Africains
et leurs tabous,” Revue
d’Ethnographie et de Sociologie, i.
(1910), p. 147.
679. Horace, Epodes, ii. 65 sq.;
Martial, iii. 58. 3 sq.; L. Preller,
Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., ii. 105 sqq.,
155 sqq. See also A. De-Marchi, Il
Culto privato di Roma antica, i. (Milan,
1896) p. 67, with plate iii.
680. Macrobius, Saturn. iii. 4. 11;
G. Wissowa, Religion und Kultus der
Römer, pp. 145 sq.
681. Festus, s.v. “penus,” pp. 250,
251, ed. C. O. Müller; Tacitus,
Annals, xv. 41; J. Marquardt,
Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 252
sq.
682. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. ii. 66; Livy, xxvi. 27. 14;
J. Marquardt, op. cit. iii. 2nd Ed., 250 sq.
683. Festus, s.v. “Ignis,” p. 106, ed.
C. O. Müller: “Ignis Vestae si quando
interstinctus esset, virgines verberibus
afficiebantur a pontifice, quibus mos
erat tabulam felicis materiae tamdiu
terebrare, quousque exceptum ignem
cribro aeneo virgo in aedem ferret.”
In this passage it is not clear whether
quibus refers to the virgins alone or to
the virgins and the pontiff together;
but the strict grammatical construction
is in favour of the latter interpretation.
The point is not unimportant, as we
shall see presently. From a passage
of Plutarch (Numa, 9) it has sometimes
been inferred that the Vestal fire was
rekindled by sunlight reflected from a
burning-glass. But in this passage
Plutarch is describing a Greek, not a
Roman, mode of making fire, as has
been rightly pointed out by Professor
M. H. Morgan (“De ignis eliciendi
modis apud antiquos,” Harvard Studies
in Classical Philology, i. (1890) pp.
56 sqq.). In this memoir Professor
Morgan has collected and discussed the
passages of Greek and Latin writers
which refer to the kindling of fire.
684. See E. B. Tylor, Early History
of Mankind, 3rd Ed., pp. 238 sqq. More
evidence might easily be given. See,
for example, J. Dawson, Australian
Aborigines, pp. 15 sq.; C. Lumholtz,
Among Cannibals, p. 191; A. W.
Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East
Australia, pp. 770-773; Maximilian
Prinz zu Wied-Newied, Reise nach
Brasilien, ii. 18 sq.; E. F. im Thurn,
Among the Indians of Guiana, pp. 257-259;
K. von den Steinen, Unter den
Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens, pp.
223 sqq.; H. Ling Roth, The Natives of
Sarawak and British North Borneo, i.
375 sqq.; A. Maass, Bei liebenswürdigen
Wilden, ein Beitrag zur Kenntniss
der Mentawai-Insulaner (Berlin, 1902),
pp. 114, 116; Mgr. Le Roy, “Les
Pygmées,” Missions Catholiques, xxix.
(1897), p. 137; E. Thurston, Ethnographic
Notes in Southern India
(Madras, 1906), pp. 464-470; W. A.
Reed, Negritos of Zambales (Manila,
1904), p. 40.
685. J. Teit, “The Thompson Indians
of British Columbia,” pp. 203, 205
(Memoir of the American Museum of
Natural History, The Jesup North
Pacific Expedition, vol. i. part 4).
686. J. Walter Fewkes, “The Lesser
New-fire Ceremony at Walpi,” American
Anthropologist, N.S. iii. (1901)
p. 445.
687. Spencer and Gillen, Northern
Tribes of Central Australia, p. 621.
688. For this information I am indebted
to Mr. S. H. Ray.
689. G. Jacob, Altarabisches Beduineneben 2nd Ed.,
(Berlin, 1897), p. 91. In his
Arabic-English Lexicon, book i. p.
1257, E. W. Lane gives the following
account of the subject: “zand, a
piece of stick or wood, for producing
fire; the upper one of the two pieces
of stick, or wood, with which fire is
produced: ... and zanda is the appellation
of the lower one thereof, in
which is the notch or hollow, or in
which is a hole.... One end of the
zand is put into the fard (notch) of the
zanda, and the zand is then rapidly
twirled round in producing fire....
The best kind of zand is made of ’afār
and the best kind of zanda of markh.”
It will be observed that the two
writers differ as to markh wood, Jacob
saying that it is used to make the
upright (male) stick, and Lane that it
is used to make the horizontal (female)
stick. My learned friend Professor A.
A. Bevan, who directed my attention
to both passages and transliterated for
me the Arabic words in Lane, has
kindly consulted the original authorities
on this point and informs me that
Lane is right.
690. L. Concradt, “Die Ngumbu in
Südkamerun,” Globus, lxxxi, (1902)
p. 354.
691. A. C. Hollis, The Masai (Oxford,
1905), p. 342.
692. A. C. Hollis, The Nandi (Oxford,
1909), p. 85.
693. Letter of the Rev. J. Roscoe,
dated Mengo, Uganda, 3rd August
1904.
694. J. Macdonald, Light in Africa 2nd Ed.,
(London, 1890), pp. 216 sq.
695. Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir
(London, 1904), pp. 51 sq.
696. J. Irle, Die Herero (Gütersloh,
1906), pp. 49 sqq., 53 sqq. Compare
Josaphat Hahn, “Die Ovaherero,”
Zeitschrift der Gesellschaft für Erdkunde
zu Berlin, iv. (1869) pp. 227
sqq.; H. Schinz, Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika
(Oldenburg and Leipsic, N.D.),
pp. 142 sq.; E. Dannert, Zum Rechte
der Herero (Berlin, 1906), pp. 1 sqq.
The people call themselves Ovaherero
(plural); the singular form is Omuherero.
The name Damaras was given
them by the English and Dutch.
Under the influence of the missionaries
most of the heathen customs described
in the text seem now to have disappeared.
See P. H. Brincker,
“Character, Sitten, und Gebräuche,
speciell der Bantu Deutsch-Südwest-afrikas,”
Mittheilungen des Seminars
für Orientalische Sprachen zu Berlin,
iii. (1900) Dritte Abtheilung, p. 72.
697. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami
(London, 1856), p. 230; J. Chapman,
Travels in the Interior of South Africa
(London, 1868), i. 325; J. Hahn,
“Die Ovaherero,” Zeitschrift der
Gesellschaft für Erdkunde zu Berlin,
iv. (1869) pp. 244-247, 250; C. J.
Büttner, Das Hinterland von Walfischbai
und Angra Pequena (Heidelberg,
1884), pp. 228 sq.; H. Schinz, Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika,
pp. 158-161; J. Irle,
Die Herero, pp. 32 sqq., 113.
698. Francis Galton, Narrative of an
Explorer in Tropical South Africa 3rd Ed.,
(London, 1890), p. 116; J. Hahn, op.
cit. iv. (1869), p. 247; H. Schinz, op.
cit. p. 155; J. Irle, Die Herero, pp.
111 sq.
700. H. Schinz, op. cit. pp. 155-157;
compare J. Hahn, op. cit. iv. (1869)
p. 499; J. Irle, Die Herero, p. 78;
E. Dannert, Zum Rechte der Herero,
pp. 4 sq. At first sight Dr. Schinz’s
account appears to differ slightly from
that given by the Rev. G. Viehe, who
says: “In the werfts of the Ovaherero,
the houses of the chief are on the
eastern side. Next to these, towards
the west, follow, one after another,
the holy house (otyizero), the place of
the holy fire (okuruo), and the kraal
[i.e. the calves’ pen] (otyunda); thus
the otyizero is on the east, and the
otyunda on the west side of the okuruo”
(“Some Customs of the Ovaherero,”
South African Folk-lore Journal, i.
(1879) p. 62). But it seems clear
that by the chief’s house Mr. Viehe
means what Dr. Schinz calls the house
of the great wife; and that what Mr.
Viehe calls the holy house is the open
space between the sacred hearth and
the house of the great wife or chief.
That space is described as the holy
ground by Dr. Schinz, who uses that
phrase (“der geweihte Boden”) as the
equivalent of the native otyizero.
Thus the two writers are in substantial
agreement with each other. On the
other hand Dr. C. H. Hahn gives the
name of otyizero or sacred house to
“the chief house of the chief, in front
of which is the place of the holy fire.”
He adds that “the chief has several
houses, according to the number of
wives, each wife having her own hut”
(South African Folk-lore Journal, ii.
(1880) p. 62, note 1.) The name
otyizero seems to be derived from zera,
“sacred,” “taboo.” See G. Viehe, op.
cit. pp. 39, 41, 43; Rev. E. Dannert,
in (South African) Folk-lore Journal,
ii. (1880) pp. 63, 65, 105, and the
editor’s note, ib. p. 93.
702. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, p.
223; J. Hahn, op. cit. iv. (1869) p.
500; H. Schinz, op. cit. p. 165.
703. H. Brincker, Wörterbuch und
kurzgefasste Grammatik des Otjiherero
(Leipsic, 1886), s.v. “okuruo”;
id. “Pyrolatrie in Südafrika,” Globus,
lxvii. (January 1895) p. 97; Meyer,
quoted by J. Kohler, “Das Recht der
Herero,” Zeitschrift für vergleichende
Rechtswissenschaft, xiv. (1900) p. 315.
704. J. Hahn, op. cit. iv. (1869) pp.
499 sq.; Rev. H. Beiderbecke, in
(South African) Folk-lore Journal, ii.
(1880) p. 84; C. G. Büttner, “Ueber
Handwerke und technische Fertigkeiten
der Eingeborenen in Damaraland,”
Ausland, 7th July 1884, p. 522;
P. H. Brincker, in Mittheilungen des
Seminars für Orientalische Sprachen
zu Berlin, iii. (1900) Dritte Abtheilung,
p. 75; id., Wörterbuch des Otjiherero,
s.v. “okuruo”; id., “Pyrolatrie
in Südafrika,” Globus, lxvii. (January
1895) p. 97; H. Schinz, op. cit.
p. 183; Meyer, l.c.
705. C. J. Andersson, op. cit. p. 223;
J. Hahn, op. cit. iv. (1869) p. 500;
Rev. E. Dannert, in (South African)
Folk-lore Journal, ii. (1880) p. 66;
Rev. H. Beiderbecke, ibid. p. 83,
note 4; C. G. Büttner, l.c.; H.
Schinz, op. cit. p. 165; J. Irle, Die
Herero, pp. 78 sq.; E. Dannert, Zum
Rechte der Herero, p. 5. According
to Meyer (l.c.) and E. Dannert (Zum
Rechte der Herero, p. 5), if the chief’s
eldest daughter marries, the duty of
tending the fire passes to his eldest wife.
This statement is at variance with all
the other testimony on the subject, and
for reasons which will appear presently
I regard it as improbable. At least
it can hardly represent the original
custom.
706. Rev. H. Beiderbecke, in (South
African) Folk-lore Journal, ii. (1880)
p. 84.
707. Rev. E. Dannert, in (South
African) Folk-lore Journal, ii. (1880)
p. 66; H. Schinz, op. cit. p. 168.
712. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, p.
224; Rev. G. Viehe, in (South African)
Folk-lore Journal, i. (1879) p. 43; Rev.
E. Dannert, in (South African) Folk-lore
Journal, ii. (1880) p. 67; C. G.
Büttner, l.c.; H. Schinz, op. cit. pp.
166, 167, 186; Meyer, quoted by
J. Kohler, op. cit. p. 315; P. H.
Brincker, in Mittheilungen des Seminars
für Orientalische Sprachen zu
Berlin, iii. (1900) Dritte Abtheilung,
pp. 75 sq.; J. Irle, Die Herero, p. 80;
E. Dannert, Zum Rechte der Herero
(Berlin, 1906), p. 5.
713. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, pp.
228 sq.; Rev. G. Viehe, op. cit. i.
(1879) pp. 61 sq.; C. G. Büttner, l.c.;
H. Schinz, op. cit. pp. 165, 180. The
Herero have a curious twofold system
of paternal clans (otuzo, plural; oruzo,
singular) and maternal clans (omaanda,
plural; eanda, singular). Every person
inherits an oruzo from his father
and an eanda from his mother. See
my Totemism and Exogamy, ii. 357
sqq.
714. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, pp.
223 sq.; J. Hahn, op. cit. iv. (1869)
p. 500; Rev. G. Viehe, op. cit. i.
(1879) pp. 39, 61; C. G. Büttner,
l.c.; H. Brincker, Wörterbuch des
Otji-herero, s.vv.ondume and otjija;
id. “Character, Sitten, und Gebräuche,
speciell der Bantu Deutsch-Südwest-afrikas,”
Mittheilungen des Seminars
für Orientalische Sprachen zu Berlin,
iii. (1900) Dritte Abtheilung, p. 75; id.
“Pyrolatrie in Südafrika,” Globus, lxvii.
(January, 1895) p. 96; H. Schinz, op.
cit. pp. 165 sq.; J. Kohler, op. cit. pp.
305, 315; J. Irle, Die Herero, pp. 79 sq.
According to Dr. Schinz, the meaning
of the names applied to the fire-sticks
has been much disputed; he himself
adopts the view given in the text, and
supports it by weighty reason which,
taken along with analogous designations
in many other parts of the world,
may be regarded as conclusive. He
tells us that otyiza means pudendum
muliebre, and this is actually the name
of the holed stick according to Mr.
Viehe (ll.cc.), though Dr. Schinz gives
otyia as the name. I have followed
Dr. Brincker in accepting otyiya
(otjija) as the correct form of the word.
Further, Dr. Schinz derives ondume,
the name of the pointed stick, from
a verb ruma, meaning “to have
intercourse with a woman.” Moreover,
he reports that the Ai San
Bushmen, near Noihas, in the Kalahari
desert, call the vertical fire-stick
tau doro and the horizontal fire-stick
gai doro, where tau is the masculine
prefix and gai the feminine. Finally,
a Herero explained to him the significance
of the names by referring in an
unmistakable manner to the corresponding
relations in the animal kingdom.
That the two sticks are regarded as
male and female is positively affirmed
by Mr. Viehe, Mr. Meyer (quoted by
J. Kohler), and Dr. Brincker.
715. See above, pp. 213sq. Mr. G.
Viehe says that the omuwapu tree
“acts a very important part in almost
all the religious ceremonies” of the
Herero (op. cit. i. 45). Probably it is
only used where the omumborombonga
cannot be had.
716. J. Hahn, “Das Land der Herero,”
Zeitschrift der Gesellschaft für Erdkunde
zu Berlin, iii. (1868) pp. 200,
213, 214 sq.; C. J. Andersson,
Lake Ngami, pp. 218, 221; id., The
Okavango River (London, 1861), pp.
21 sq.; H. Schinz, op. cit. p. 182.
717. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, p.
221; Francis Galton, op. cit. p. 115;
J. Hahn, op. cit. iii. (1868) p. 215,
iv. (1869) p. 498, note; Rev. H.
Beiderbecke, in (South African) Folk-lore
Journal, ii. (1880) pp. 92 sq.; H.
Schinz, op. cit. pp. 182 sq.; Meyer,
quoted by J. Kohler, op. cit. p. 297;
P. H. Brincker, in Mittheilungen des
Seminars für Orientalische Sprachen
zu Berlin (1900), Dritte Abtheilung,
p. 73; J. Irle, Die Herero, pp. 75 sq.,
77; E. Dannert, Zum Rechte der
Herero, pp. 3 sq.
718. On the evidence for this migration
see J. Chapman, Travels in the
Interior of South Africa, i. 325-327;
J. Hahn, op. cit. iii. (1868) pp. 227
sqq. As to the physical features and
climate of Hereroland, see J. Hahn,
“Das Land der Ovaherero,” Zeitschrift
der Gesellschaft für Erdkunde
zu Berlin, iii. (1868) pp. 193 sqq.;
J. Irle, Die Herero, pp. 9 sqq.,
19 sqq.
719. Pausanias, v. 13. 3, v. 14. 2. On
the substitution of the poplar for the
oak, see Mr. A. B. Cook in Folk-lore,
xv. (1904) pp. 297 sq.
720. Rev. G. Viehe, “Some Customs
of the Ovaherero,” (South African)
Folk-lore Journal, i. (1879) pp. 64-66;
Rev. H. Beiderbecke, in (South
African) Folk-lore Journal, ii. (1880)
p. 91; H. Schinz, op. cit. pp. 183 sq.;
P. H. Brincker, in Mittheilungen des
Seminars für Orientalische Sprachen
zu Berlin, iii. (1900) Dritte Abtheilung,
pp. 89 sq.; J. Irle, Die Herero,
pp. 74, 75, 77. Apparently it is only
a powerful or eminent man who becomes
an omukuru after his death.
Or rather, perhaps, though all dead
men become ovakuru, only the strong
and brave are feared and worshipped.
722. Rev. E. Dannert, “Customs of
the Ovaherero at the Birth of a Child,”
(South African) Folk-lore Journal, ii.
(1880) pp. 66 sq. Compare Rev. G.
Viehe, op. cit. i. (1879) p. 41; H.
Schinz, op. cit. p. 168.
723. Rev. G. Viehe, in (South African)
Folk-lore Journal, i. (1879) pp. 49
sq.
727. C. J. Andersson, Lake Ngami, pp.
228 sq. The ceremony is described
more fully by the Rev. G. Viehe,
“Some Customs of the Ovaherero,”
(South African) Folk-lore Journal, i.
(1879) pp. 61 sq., from whose account
some of the details in the text are
borrowed.
728. The distinction is made also by
Mr. J. Irle. According to him, while
the fire-sticks are called ozondume
(plural of ondume), the sticks which
represent the ancestors are called
ozohongue and are made from the
omuvapu bush. In every chief’s house
there is a bundle of about twenty of
these ancestral sticks. When a chief
dies, the sticks are wrapped in a portion
of the sacred bull (omusisi) which
is slaughtered on this occasion, and a
new stick is added to the bundle. At
the same time Mr. Irle tells us that
the fire-sticks (ozondume) also represent
the ancestors and are made like
them from the omuvapu bush. See
J. Irle, Die Herero, pp. 77, 79.
729. Bensen, quoted by J. Kohler,
“Das Recht der Herero,” Zeitschrift
für vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft,
xiv. (1900) p. 305.
730. Rev. G. Viehe, or his editor,
op. cit. i. (1879) p. 39. The otyiza
(otyiya) is the female fire-stick. See
above, p. 218 note 1.
731. Rev. G. Viehe, in (South African)
Folk-lore Journal, i. (1879) p. 61.
734. I have assumed that the ancestral
sticks, whatever their origin, represent
only men. This is plainly implied by
Dr. Brincker, who tells us that “each
of these sticks represents the male
member of generation and in the
Bantu sense a personality, which stands
for the presence of the deceased chief
on all festive occasions and especially
at religious ceremonies” (“Character,
Sitten, und Gebräuche, speciell der
Bantu Deutsch-Südwestafrikas,” Mittheilungen
des Seminars für Orientalische
Sprachen zu Berlin, iii. (1900)
Dritte Abtheilung, p. 74). In savage
society women are of too little account
for their ghosts to be commonly worshipped.
Speaking of the Bantu
peoples, a writer who knows them
well observes: “This lack of respect
for old women is a part of the natives’
religious system, and is connected with
their conception of a future life, in
which women play a subordinate part,
their spirits not being able to cause
much trouble, and therefore not being
of much account” (Dudley Kidd, The
Essential Kafir, p. 23).
735. W. Jochelson, “The Koryak,” pp.
32-36 (Memoir of the American Museum
of Natural History, The Jesup North
Pacific Expedition, vol. vi., Leyden
and New York, 1908).
736. W. Bogaras, “The Chukchee
Religion,” pp. 349-353 (Memoir of the
American Museum of Natural History,
The Jesup North Pacific Expedition,
vol. vii. part ii., Leyden and New
York, 1904).
738. Ovid, Fasti, vi. 265 sqq.; Festus,
p. 262, ed. C. O. Müller.
739. Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir,
pp. 11 sq. On the diffusion of the
round hut in Africa Sir H. H. Johnston
says: “The original form of
house throughout all British Central
Africa was what the majority of the
houses still are—circular and somewhat
like a beehive in shape, with round
walls of wattle and daub and thatched
roof. This style of house is characteristic
of (a) all Africa south of the Zambezi;
(b) all British Central Africa; as
much of the Portuguese provinces of Zambezia
and Moçambique as are not under
direct Portuguese or Muhammedan influence
which may have introduced the
rectangular dwelling; (c) all East Africa
up to and including the Egyptian Sudan,
where Arab influence has not introduced
the oblong rectangular building; (d) the
Central Nigerian Sudan, much of Senegambia,
and perhaps the West Coast of
Africa as far east and south as the Gold
Coast, subject, of course, to the same
limitations as to foreign influence”
(British Central Africa, London, 1897,
P. 453).
740. J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung,
iii. 2nd Ed., pp. 250, 341 sq.
741. J. Marquardt, op. cit. iii. 2nd Ed., pp. 340
sq.; Journal of Philology, xiv. (1885)
pp. 155 sq.
742. Livy, i. 3 sq.; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Antiquit. Rom. i. 76 sq.;
Plutarch, Romulus, 3.
743. Plutarch, Numa, 10; Dionysius
Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. ii. 67. 4,
viii. 89. 5.
744. The suggestion is due to Mr. M. A.
Bayfield (Classical Review, xv.
1901, p. 448). He compares the
similar execution of the princess Antigone
(Sophocles, Antigone, 773 sqq.).
However, we must remember that a
custom of burying people alive has
been practised as a punishment or a
sacrifice by Romans, Persians, and
Germans, even when the victims were
not of royal blood. See Livy, xxii.
57. 6; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxviii. 12;
Plutarch, Marcellus, 3; id., Quaest.
Rom. 83; Herodotus, vii. 114; J.
Grimm, Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer, 3rd Ed.,
pp. 694 sq. As to the objection to
spill royal blood, see The Golden Bough,
Second Edition, i. 354 sq.
748. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxviii. 39;
“Quamquam religione tutatur et
fascinus, imperatorum quoque, non
solum infantium custos, qui deus inter
sacra Romana Vestalibus colitur.”
749. Virgil, Georg. i. 498; Ovid,
Fasti, iv. 828; G. Henzen, Acta
fratrum Arvalium, pp. 124, 147; H.
Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae selectae,
Nos. 5047, 5048. Ennius represented
Vesta as the mother of Saturn and
Titan. See Lactantius, Divin. inst.
i. 14.
752. Grihya Sûtras, translated by H.
Oldenberg, vol. i. pp. 37, 168, 279,
283, 382, 384, vol. ii. pp. 46, 191,
260; M. Winternitz, “Das altindische
Hochzeitsrituell,” pp. 4, 56-62 (Denkschriften
der kaiserl. Akademie der
Wissenschaften in Wien, xl., Vienna,
1892); H. Zimmer, Altindisches Leben,
p. 312; G. A. Grierson, Bihār Peasant
Life (Calcutta, 1885), p. 368; F. S.
Krauss, Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven,
pp. 386, 436, cp. 430; J. Lasicius,
“De diis Samagitarum caeterorumque
Sarmatarum,” in Magazin herausgegeben
von der Lettisch-Literarischen Gesellschaft,
xiv. 99; J. Maeletius (Maletius),
“De sacrificiis et idolatria veterum
Borussorum Livonum aliarumque
vicinarum gentium,” in Mitteilungen
der Litterarischen Gesellschaft Masovia,
viii. (1902) pp. 191, 204 (this work
is also reprinted under the name of J.
Menecius in Scriptores rerum Livonicarum,
ii. (Riga and Leipsic, 1848)
pp. 389-392); F. Woeste, in Zeitschrift
für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde,
ii. (1855) p. 91; A. Kuhn und W.
Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen
und Gebräuche, pp. 433, 522; A. Kuhn,
Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus
Westfalen, ii. 38; J. H. Schmitz, Sitten
und Sagen, etc., des Eifler Volkes,
i. 67; Montanus, Die deutsche Volksfeste,
Volksbräuche und deutscher Volksglaube,
p. 85; Reinsberg-Düringsfeld,
Hochzeitsbuch (Leipsic, 1871), p. 222;
L. v. Schroeder, Die Hochzeitsbräuche
der Esten (Berlin, 1888), pp. 127 sqq.;
E. Samter, Familienfeste der Griechen
und Römer (Berlin, 1901), pp. 59-62;
O. Schrader, Reallexikon der indogermanischen
Altertumskunde, pp. 356
sq. This evidence proves that the
custom has been practised by the
Indian, Slavonian, Lithuanian, and
Teutonic branches of the Aryan race,
from which we may fairly infer that it
was observed by the ancestors of the
whole family before their dispersion.
753. Grihya-Sûtras, translated by H.
Oldenberg, vol. i. p. 283 (Sacred Books
of the East, vol. xxix.).
754. Prof. Vl. Titelbach, “Das heilige
Feuer bei den Balkanslaven,” Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie,
xiii. (1900) p. 1.
755. F. S. Krauss, Sitte und Brauch
der Südslaven (Vienna, 1885), p. 430.
760. As it is believed that fire may
impregnate human beings, so conversely
some people seem to imagine
that it may be impregnated by them.
Thus Mr. T. R. Glover, Fellow of St.
John’s College, Cambridge, writes to
me (18th June 1906): “A curious
and not very quotable instance of (I
suppose) Sacred Marriage was brought
to my notice by Mr. Brown of the
Canadian Baptist Mission to the
Telugus. He said that in Hindoo
temples (in South India chiefly?)
sometimes a scaffolding is erected over
a fire. A man and a woman are got
to copulate on it and allow the human
seed to fall into the fire.” But perhaps
this ceremony is only another
way of conveying the fertilising virtue
of the fire to the woman, in other
words, of getting her with child.
762. Suidas, Harpocration, and Etymologicum
Magnum, s.v. Ἀμφιδρόμια;
Hesychius, s.v. δρομάφιον ἧμαρ; Schol.
on Plato, Theaetetus, p. 160 E. On
this custom see S. Reinach, Cultes,
mythes, et religions, i. (Paris, 1905)
pp. 137-145. He suggests that the
running of the naked men who carried
the babies was intended, by means of
sympathetic magic, to impart to the
little ones in after-life the power of
running fast. But this theory does not
explain why the race took place round
the hearth.
763. The custom has been practised
with this intention in Scotland, China,
New Britain, the Tenimber and Timorlaut
Islands, and by the Ovambo of
South Africa. See Pennant’s “Second
Tour in Scotland,” Pinkerton’s Voyages
and Travels, iii. 383; Miss C. F.
Gordon Cumming, In the Hebrides,
ed. 1883, p. 101; China Review, ix.
(1880-1881) p. 303; R. Parkinson,
Im Bismarck-Archipel, pp. 94 sq.;
J. G. F. Riedel, De sluik- en kroesharige
rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua,
p. 303; H. Schinz, Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika,
p. 307. A similar custom was
observed, probably for the same reason,
in ancient Mexico and in Madagascar.
See Clavigero, History of Mexico,
translated by Cullen, i. 31; W. Ellis,
History of Madagascar, i. 152. Compare
my note, “The Youth of Achilles,”
Classical Review, vii. (1893) pp. 293
sq.
764. Compare E. Samter, Familienfeste
der Griechen und Römer (Berlin, 1901),
pp. 59-62.
765. W. R. S. Ralston, The Songs of the
Russian People, pp. 120 sq. Ralston
held that the Russian house-spirit
Domovoy, who is supposed to live
behind the stove, is the modern representative
of an ancestral spirit. Compare
ibid. pp. 84, 86, 119.
766. Evidence of this view will be
adduced later on. See The Golden
Bough, Second Edition, iii. 456.
770. Th. Mommsen, History of Rome,
New Edition (London, 1894), i. 215
sq.; J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung,
iii. 2nd Ed., p. 326; W. Warde
Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period
of the Republic, p. 147. For another
derivation of their name see below,
p. 247.
772. H. Vaughan Stevens, “Mitteilungen
aus dem Frauenleben der Ôrang
Belendas, der Ôrang Djâkun und der
Ôrang Lâut,” bearbeitet von Dr. Max
Bartels, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,
xxviii. (1896) pp. 168 sq. The writer
adds that any person, boy, man, or
woman (provided she was not menstruous)
might light the fire, if it were
more convenient that he or she should
do so. Thus the co-operation of a
married man and an unmarried girl,
though apparently deemed the best,
was not the only permissible way of
igniting the wood. The good faith
or at all events the accuracy of the
late German traveller H. Vaughan
Stevens is not, I understand, above
suspicion; but Mr. Nelson Annandale,
joint author of Fasciculi Malayenses,
writes to me of him that “he certainly
had a knowledge and experience of the
wild tribes of the Malay region which
few or none have excelled, for he lived
literally as one of themselves.”
773. Prof. Vl. Titelbach, “Das heilige
Feuer bei den Balkanslaven,” Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie,
xiii. (1900) pp. 2-4. The ceremony
witnessed by Prof. Titelbach will be
described later on in this work. Kinglake
rode through the great Servian
forest on his way from Belgrade to
Constantinople, and from his description
(Eothen, ch. ii.) we gather that it
is chiefly composed of oak. He says:
“Endless and endless now on either
side the tall oaks closed in their ranks,
and stood gloomily lowering over
us.”
774. Ch. Gilhodes, “La Culture matérielle
des Katchins (Birmanie),” Anthropos,
v. (1910) p. 629.
775. M. Martin’s “Description of the
Western Islands of Scotland,” in
Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, iii.
611. The first edition of Martin’s
work was published in 1703, and the
second in 1716.
776. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 504.
778. Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. ii. 68; Valerius Maximus,
i. 1. 7.
779. J. Lecœur, Esquisses du Bocage
Normand, ii. (Condé-sur-Noireau,
1887) p. 27; B. Souché, Croyances,
présages et traditions diverses (Niort,
1880), p. 12.
780. Polybius, xii. 13. In Darfur a
curious power over fire is ascribed to
women who have been faithful to their
husbands. “It is a belief among the
Forians, that if the city takes fire, the
only means of arresting the progress
of the flames is to bring near them a
woman, no longer young, who has
never been guilty of intrigue. If she
be pure, by merely waving a mantle,
she puts a stop to the destruction.
Success has sometimes rewarded a
virtuous woman” (Travels of an Arab
Merchant [Mohammed Ibn-Omar El-Tounsy]
in Soudan, abridged from the
French by Bayle St. John (London,
1854), p. 112). Compare R. W.
Felkin, “Notes on the For Tribe of
Central Africa,” Proceedings of the
Royal Society of Edinburgh, xiii.
(1884-1886) p. 230.
781. Solinus, xxii. 10. The Celtic
Minerva, according to Caesar (De bello
Gallico, vi. 17), was a goddess of the
mechanical arts.
782. J. Rhys, Celtic Heathendom, pp.
73-77; P. W. Joyce, Social History of
Ancient Ireland, i. 260 sq.
783. Giraldus Cambrensis, The Topography
of Ireland, chaps. xxxiv.-xxxvi.,
translated by Thomas Wright; P. W.
Joyce, Social History of Ancient Ireland,
i. 334 sq. It is said that in the
island of Sena (the modern Sein), off
the coast of Brittany, there was an
oracle of a Gallic deity whose worship
was cared for by nine virgin priestesses.
They could raise storms by their incantations,
and turn themselves into
any animals they pleased (Mela, iii.
48); but it is not said that they maintained
a perpetual holy fire, though
Ch. Elton affirms that they did (Origins
of English History, p. 27). M. Salomon
Reinach dismisses these virgins as
a fable based on Homer’s description of
the isle of Circe (Odyssey, x. 135 sqq.),
and he denies that the Gauls employed
virgin priestesses. See his article,
“Les Vierges de Sena,” Revue Celtique,
xviii. (1897) pp. 1-8; id., Cultes,
mythes, et religions, i. (Paris, 1905)
pp. 195 sqq. To me the nuns of
St. Brigit seem to be most probably
the successors of a Celtic order
of Vestals. That there were female
Druids is certain, but it does not appear
whether they were virgins. See Lampridius,
Alexander Severus, 60; Vopiscus,
Aurelianus, 44; id., Numerianus,
14 sq.
784. Prof. Vl. Titelbach, “Das heilige
Feuer bei den Balkanslaven,” Internationales
Archiv für Ethnographie,
xiii. (1900) p. 1.
785. Laws of Manu, iv. 53, translated
by G. Bühler (Sacred Books of the East,
vol. xxv. p. 137).
786. Martin Haug, Essays on the Sacred
Language, Writings, and Religion of
the Parsees 3rd Ed., (London, 1884), p. 243,
note 1. Strabo describes the mouth-veil
worn by the Magian priests in
Cappadocia (xiv. 3. 15, p. 733). At
Arkon, in the island of Rügen, there
was a shrine so holy that none but the
priest might enter it, and even he
might not breathe in it. As often as
he needed to draw in or give out
breath, he used to run out of the door
lest he should taint the divine presence
with his breath. See Saxo Grammaticus,
Historia Danica, bk. xiv. p.
824, ed. P. E. Müller (p. 393 of
Elton’s English translation).
787. P. W. Joyce, Social History of
Ancient Ireland, i. 335 sq.; Standish
H. O’Grady, Sylva Gadelica, translation
(London, 1892), pp. 15, 16, 41.
790. Douglas Hyde, A Literary History
of Ireland (London, 1899), p. 158.
The tradition of the oak of Kildare
survives in the lines,
“That oak of Saint Bride, which nor Devil nor Dane
Nor Saxon nor Dutchman could rend from her fane,”
which are quoted by Mr. D. Fitzgerald
in Revue Celtique, iv. (1879-1880) p.
193.
791. Douglas Hyde, op. cit. pp. 169-171.
At Kells, also, St. Columba
dwelt under a great oak-tree. The
writer of his Irish life, quoted by Mr.
Hyde, says that the oak-tree “remained
till these latter times, when it
fell through the crash of a mighty wind.
And a certain man took somewhat of
its bark to tan his shoes with. Now,
when he did on the shoes, he was
smitten with leprosy from his sole to
his crown.”
792. Garcilasso de la Vega, Royal Commentaries
of the Yncas, pt. i. bk. iv.
chaps. 1-3, bk. vi. chaps. 20-22
(vol. i. pp. 292-299, vol. ii. pp. 155-164,
Markham’s translation); P. de
Cieza de Leon, Travels, p. 134 (Markham’s
translation); id., Second Part of
the Chronicle of Peru, pp. 85 sq. (Markham’s
translation); Acosta, Natural
and Moral History of the Indies, bk.
v. chap. 15 (vol. ii. pp. 331-333,
Hakluyt Society). Professor E. B.
Tylor discredits Garcilasso’s description
of these Peruvian priestesses on the
ground that it resembles Plutarch’s
account of the Roman Vestals (Numa,
9 sq.) too closely to be independent;
he thinks that “the apparent traces of
absorption from Plutarch invalidate
whatever rests on Garcilasso de la Vega’s
unsupported testimony.” See his Researches
into the Early History of Mankind, 3rd Ed.,
pp. 249-253. In particular, he
stumbles at the statement that an unfaithful
Peruvian priestess was buried
alive. But that statement was made
by Cieza de Leon, who travelled in
Peru when Garcilasso was a child, and
whose book, or rather the first part of
it, containing the statement, was published
more than fifty years before that
of Garcilasso. Moreover, when we
understand that the punishment in
question was based on a superstition
which occurs independently in many
parts of the world, the apparent improbability
of the coincidence vanishes.
As to the mode of kindling the sacred
fire, Professor Tylor understands Plutarch
to say that the sacred fire at
Rome was kindled, as in Peru, by a
burning-glass. To me it seems that
Plutarch is here speaking of a Greek,
not a Roman usage, and this is made
still clearer when his text is read correctly.
For the words ὑπὸ Μήδων,
περὶ δὲ τὰ Μιθριδιατικά should be altered
to ὑπὸ Μαίδων περὶ τὰ Μιθριδιατικά. See
H. Pomtow in Rheinisches Museum,
N. F. li. (1896) p. 365, and my note
on Pausanias, x. 19. 4 (vol. v. p.
331). Thus Plutarch gives two instances
when a sacred fire was extinguished
and had to be relit with a
burning-glass; but both instances are
Greek, neither is Roman. The Greek
mode of lighting a sacred fire by means
of a crystal is described also in the
Orphic poem on precious stones, verses
177 sqq. (Orphica, ed. E. Abel, p.
115). Nor were the Greeks and
Peruvians peculiar in this respect.
The Siamese and Chinese have also
been in the habit of kindling a sacred
fire by means of a metal mirror or
burning-glass. See Pallegoix, Description
du royaume Thai ou Siam, ii. 55; A.
Bastian, Die Völker des östlichen Asien,
iii. 516; J. H. Plath, “Die Religion
und der Cultus der alten Chinesen,”
Abhandlungen der k. bayer. Akademie
der Wissen, i. Cl. ix. (1863) pp. 876 sq.
Again, the full description of the golden
garden of the Peruvian Vestals, which
may sound to us fabulous, is given
by Cieza de Leon in a work (the
Second Part of the Chronicle of Peru)
which it is unlikely that Garcilasso
ever saw, since it was not printed till
1873, centuries after his death. Yet
Garcilasso’s brief description of the
garden agrees closely with that of
Cieza de Leon, differing from it just as
that of an independent witness naturally
would—namely, in the selection of
some other details in addition to those
which the two have in common. He
says that the virgins “had a garden of
trees, plants, herbs, birds and beasts,
made of gold and silver, like that in
the temple” (vol. i. p. 298, Markham’s
translation). Thus the two
accounts are probably independent and
therefore trustworthy, for a fiction of
this kind could hardly have occurred to
two romancers separately. A strong
confirmation of Garcilasso’s fidelity is
furnished by the close resemblance
which the fire customs, both of Rome
and Peru, present to the well-authenticated
fire customs of the Herero at
the present day. There seems to be
every reason to think that all three
sets of customs originated independently
in the simple needs and superstitious
fancies of the savage. On the
whole, I see no reason to question the
good faith and accuracy of Garcilasso.
793. B. de Sahagun, Histoire des choses
de la Nouvelle Espagne, pp. 196 sq.,
386; Acosta, Natural and Moral
History of the Indies, bk. v. ch. 15
(vol. ii. pp. 333 sq., Hakluyt Society);
A. de Herrera, General History of the
vast Continent and Islands of America,
iii. 209 sq., Stevens’s translation
(London, 1725, 1726); Clavigero,
History of Mexico, i. 264, 274 sq.;
Brasseur de Bourbourg, Histoire des
nations civilisées du Mexique et de
l’Amérique Centrale, i. 289, iii. 661;
H. H. Bancroft, Native Races of the
Pacific States, ii. 204 sqq., 245, 583,
iii. 435 sq. However, Sahagun
(pp. 186, 194), Acosta (vol. ii. p. 336)
and Herrera seem to imply that the
duty of maintaining the sacred fire was
discharged by men only.
794. Brasseur de Bourbourg, op. cit.
ii. 6; H. H. Bancroft, op. cit. iii. 473.
Fire-worship seems to have lingered
among the Indians of Yucatan down
to about the middle of the nineteenth
century, and it may still survive among
them. See D. G. Brinton, “The
Folk-lore of Yucatan,” Folk-lore Journal,
i. (1883) pp. 247 sq.
795. Letter of the Rev. J. Roscoe,
dated Kampala, Uganda, 9th April
1909.
796. Aulus Gellius, x. 15. 22; Ateius
Capito, cited by Plutarch, Quaest.
Rom. 50. On the other hand, Servius
on Virgil, Aen. iv. 29, says that the
Flamen might marry another wife after
the death of the first. But the statement
of Aulus Gellius and Ateius
Capito is confirmed by other evidence.
See J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung,
iii. 2nd Ed., 329, note 8. As to the
rule see my note, “The Widowed
Flamen,” Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second
Edition, pp. 407 sqq.
797. Aulus Gellius, x. 15. 7; Festus,
p. 106, ed. C. O. Müller.
798. Livy, v. 52. 13 sq. In later times
the rule was so far relaxed that he was
allowed to be absent from Rome for
two nights or even longer, provided he
got leave from the chief pontiff on the
score of ill-health. See Aulus Gellius,
x. 15. 14; Tacitus, Annals, iii. 71.
799. Tacitus, Annals, iii. 58; Dio
Cassius, liv. 36. As to the honours
attached to the office, see Livy, xxvii.
8. 8; Plutarch, Quaest. Rom. 113.
800. See The Golden Bough, Second
Edition, i. 241 sqq.
801. P. Kretschmer, Einleitung in die
Geschichte der griechischen Sprache
(Göttingen, 1896), pp. 127 sqq.; O.
Schrader, Reallexikon der indogermanischen
Altertumskunde, pp. 637 sq.
For a different derivation of the name
Flamen see above, p. 235. Being no
philologer, I do not pretend to decide
between the rival etymologies. My
friend Prof. J. H. Moulton prefers the
equation Flamen = Brahman, which
he tells me is philologically correct,
because if Flamen came from flare we
should expect a form like flator rather
than flamen. The form flator was
used in Latin, though not in this sense.
802. W. Crooke, The Tribes and Castes
of the North-Western Provinces and
Oudh, i. 30-32. Compare Monier
Williams, Religious Thought and Life
in India, pp. 364, 365, 392.
804. Homer, Iliad, xvi. 233-235;
Sophocles, Trachiniae, 1166 sq.;
Callimachus, Hymn to Delos, 284-286.
805. Ch. Hartknoch, Selectae dissertationes
historicae de variis rebus
Prussicis, p. 163 (bound up with his
edition of Düsburg’s Chronicon
Prussiae, Frankfort and Leipsic,
1679); Simon Grunau, Preussischer
Chronik, ed. M. Perlbach, i. (Leipsic,
1876) p. 95.
807. W. Crooke, Popular Religion and
Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster,
1896), ii. 194 sq.
808. J. C. Nesfield, in Panjab Notes and
Queries, ii. p. 12, § 77.
809. Rigveda, iii. 29, translated by
R. T. H. Griffith (Benares, 1889-1892),
vol. ii. pp. 25-27; Satapatha Brâhmana,
translated by J. Eggeling, part i. p. 389,
note 3, part ii. pp. 90 sq., part v. pp.
68-74; Hymns of the Atharva-Veda,
translated by M. Bloomfield, pp. 91, 97
sq., 334, 460; W. Caland, Altindisches
Zauberritual, pp. 115 sq.; A. Kuhn,
Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed., pp. 40, 64-78,
183-185; H. Zimmer, Altindisches
Leben, pp. 58, 59. The sami wood
is sometimes identified with the Acacia
Suma (Mimosa Suma); but the modern
Bengalee name of Prosopis spicigera is
shami or somi, which seems to be conclusive
evidence of the identity of
Prosopis spicigera with sami. The
Prosopis spicigera is a deciduous thorny
tree of moderate size, which grows in
the arid zones of the Punjaub, Rajputana,
Gujarat, Bundelcund, and the
Deccan. The heart of the wood is of
a purplish brown colour and extremely
hard. It is especially valued for fuel,
as it gives out much heat. See G.
Watt, Dictionary of the Economic
Products of India, s.v. “Prosopis
spicigera.” For a reference to this
work I am indebted to the kindness of
the late Professor H. Marshall Ward.
813. Rigveda, x. 95, translated by R.
T. H. Griffith, Satapatha Brâhmana,
translated by J. Eggeling, part v.
pp. 68-74. Compare H. Oldenberg,
Die Literatur des alten Indien (Stuttgart
and Berlin, 1903), pp. 53-55. On
the story see A. Kuhn, Herabkunft des
Feuers, 2nd Ed., pp. 71 sqq.; F. Max Müller
Selected Essays on Language, Religion,
and Mythology (London, 1881), i. 408
sqq.; Andrew Lang, Custom and
Myth (London, 1884), pp. 64 sqq.;
K. F. Pischel and Geldner, Vedische
Studien, i. (Stuttgart, 1889), pp. 243-295.
It belongs to the group of
tales which describe the marriage of
a human with an animal mate, of
a mortal with a fairy, and often,
though not always, their unhappy
parting. The story seems to have its
roots in totemism. See my Totemism
and Exogamy, ii. 566 sqq. It will be
illustrated more at length in a later
part of The Golden Bough.
814. Homer, Hymn to Mercury, 108-111
(where a line has been lost; see
the note of Messrs. Allen and Sikes);
Theophrastus, Histor. plant. v. 9. 6;
id., De igne, ix. 64; Hesychius, s.v.
στορεύς; Schol. on Apollonius Rhodius,
Argon. i. 1184; Pliny, Nat. Hist.
xvi. 208; Seneca, Nat. Quaest. ii.
22; A. Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed.,
pp. 35-41; H. Blumner, Technologie
und Terminologie der Gewerbe und
Künste, ii. 354-356. Theophrastus
gives the name of athragene to the
plant which, next to or equally with
ivy, makes the best board; he compares
it to a vine. Pliny (l.c.) seems
to have identified it with a species of
wild vine. According to Sprengel,
the athragene is the Clematis cirrhosa
of Linnaeus, the French clématite à
vrilles. See Dioscorides, ed. C.
Sprengel, vol. ii. p. 641. As to the
kinds of wood employed by the
Romans in kindling fire we have no
certain evidence, as Pliny and Seneca
may have merely copied from Theophrastus.
816. E. H. Man, On the Aboriginal Inhabitants
of the Andaman Islands (London,
N.D.), p. 82. Mr. Man’s evidence
is confirmed by a German traveller,
Mr. Jagor, who says of the Andaman
Islanders: “The fire must never go
out. Here also I am again assured
that the Andamanese have no means of
making fire.” See Verhandlungen der
Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie,
1877, p. (54) (bound with Zeitschrift
für Ethnologie, ix.). I regret that on
this subject I did not question Mr.
A. R. Brown, Fellow of Trinity College,
Cambridge, who resided for about two
years among the Andaman Islanders,
studying their customs and beliefs.
Mr. Brown is now (December 1910) in
West Australia.
817. N. von Miklucho-Maclay, “Ethnologische
Bemerkungen über die
Papuas der Maclay-Küste in Neu-Guinea,”
Natuurkundig Tijdschrift
voor Nederlandsch Indie, xxxv. (1875),
pp. 82, 83. Compare C. Hager,
Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und der Bismarck-Archipel,
p. 69; M. Krieger,
Neu-Guinea, p. 153. The natives of
the Maclay Coast are said to have
traditions of a time when they were
ignorant even of the use of fire; they
ate fruits raw, which set up a disease
of the gums, filling their mouths with
blood; they had a special name for
the disease. See N. von Miklucho-Maclay,
in Verhandlungen der Berliner
Gesellschaft für Anthropologie, 1882,
p. (577) (bound with Zeitschrift für
Ethnologie, xiv.). The reports of
people living in ignorance of the use
of fire have hitherto proved, on closer
examination, to be fables. See E. B.
Tylor, Researches into the Early History
of Mankind, 3rd Ed., pp. 229 sqq. The
latest repetition of the story that I
know of is by an American naturalist,
Mr. Titian R. Peale, who confirms the
exploded statement that down to 1841
the natives of Bowditch Island had
not seen fire. See The American
Naturalist, xviii. (1884) pp. 229-232.
818. B. Hagen, Unter den Papuas
(Wiesbaden, 1899), pp. 203 sq. Mr.
Hagen’s account applies chiefly to the
natives of Astrolabe Bay. He tells us
that for the most part they now use
Swedish matches.
819. G. Casati, Ten Years in Equatoria
(London and New York, 1891), i.
157. Another writer says that these
dwarfs “keep fire alight perpetually,
starting it in some large tree, which
goes on smouldering for months at a
time” (Captain Guy Burrows, The
Land of the Pigmies (London, 1898),
p. 199).
820. F. Stuhlmann, Mit Emin Pascha
ins Herz von Afrika (Berlin, 1894),
pp. 451 sq.
821. Sir Harry H. Johnston, British
Central Africa (London, 1897), p.
439; id., The Uganda Protectorate
(London, 1902), ii. 540. If we may
trust Diodorus Siculus (i. 13. 3), this
was the origin of fire alleged by the
Egyptian priests. Among the Winamwanga
and Wiwa tribes of East Africa,
to the south of Lake Tanganyika,
“when lightning sets fire to a tree, all
the fires in a village are put out, and
fireplaces freshly plastered, while the
head men take the fire to the chief,
who prays over it. It is then sent
to all his villages, the people of the
villages rewarding his messengers.”
See Dr. J. A. Chisholm, “Notes on
the Manners and Customs of the
Winamwanga and Wiwa,” Journal of
the African Society, No. 36 (July
1910), p. 363. The Parsees ascribe
peculiar sanctity to fire which has
been obtained from a tree struck
by lightning. See D. J. Karaka,
History of the Modern Parsis (London,
1884), ii. 213. In Siam and Cambodia
such fire is carefully preserved
and used to light the funeral pyres of
kings and others. See Pallegoix,
Description du royaume Thai ou
Siam, i. 248; J. Moura, Le Royaume
du Cambodge, i. 360.
822. Oscar Peschel, Völkerkunde 6th Ed.
(Leipsic, 1885), p. 138. Mr. Man
thinks it likely that the Andaman
Islanders got their fire from one of the
two volcanoes which exist in their
island (On the Aboriginal Inhabitants
of the Andaman Islands, p. 82). The
Creek Indians of North America have
a tradition that some of their ancestors
procured fire from a volcano. See
A. S. Gatschet, A Migration Legend of
the Creek Indians, ii. (St. Louis, 1888)
p. 11 (43).
823. O. Peschel, loc. cit. As to the
fires of Baku see further, Adonis,
Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, p. 159.
824. R. Taylor, Te Ika A Maui, or
New Zealand and its Inhabitants, 2nd Ed.,
p. 367; W. Crooke, Popular Religion
and Folk-lore of Northern India
(Westminster, 1896), ii. 194; A. Kuhn,
Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed., pp. 92, 102.
Lucretius thought that the first fire was
procured either from lightning or from
the mutual friction of trees in a high
wind (De rerum natura, v. 1091-1101).
The latter source was preferred by
Vitruvius (De architectura, ii. 1. 1).
825. Sir Harry H. Johnston, ll.cc. Professor
K. von den Steinen conjectures
that savages, who already possessed
fire, and were wont to use tinder to
nurse a smouldering brand into a
blaze, may have accidentally discovered
the mode of kindling fire in an
attempt to make tinder by rubbing
two dry sticks or reeds against each
other. See K. von den Steinen,
Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens,
pp. 219-228.
826. J. Dumont D’Urville, Voyage
autour du monde et à la recherche de
la Perouse, i. (Paris, 1832) pp. 95,
194; Scott Nind, “Description of the
Natives of King George’s Sound,”
Journal of the Royal Geographical
Society, i. (1832) p. 26; E. J. Eyre,
Journals of Expeditions of Discovery
into Central Australia, ii. 357; A. Oldfield,
“The Aborigines of Australia,”
Transactions of the Ethnological
Society of London, N.S., iii. (1865)
pp. 283 sq.; J. Dawson, Australian
Aborigines, p. 15; Annales de la
Propagation de la Foi, xvii. (1845)
pp. 76 sq.
827. R. Brough Smyth, The Aborigines
of Victoria, i. 396.
828. R. Taylor, Te Ika A Maui, or
New Zealand and its Inhabitants, 2nd Ed.,
p. 567. Other writers confirm the
statement that the carrying of the
fire-sticks is the special duty of
the women. See W. Stanbridge,
“On the Aborigines of Victoria,”
Transactions of the Ethnological Society
of London, N.S., i. (1861) p. 291;
J. F. Mann, “Notes on the Aborigines
of Australia,” Proceedings of the
Geographical Society of Australasia,
i. (1885) p. 29.
829. Melville, quoted by H. Ling Roth,
The Aborigines of Tasmania (London,
1890), p. 97. It has sometimes been
affirmed that the Tasmanians did not
know how to kindle fire; but the
evidence collected by Mr. Ling Roth
(op. cit., pp. xii. sq., 96 sq.), proves
that they were accustomed to light it
both by the friction of wood and by
striking flints together.
830. Mr. Dove, quoted by James Bonwick,
Daily Life and Origin of the
Tasmanians, p. 20.
831. Wilfred Powell, Wanderings in a
Wild Country (London, 1883), p. 196.
832. Captain J. Wilson, Missionary
Voyage to the Southern Pacific Ocean
(London, 1799), p. 357.
833. J. G. Wood, Natural History of
Man, ii. 522; J. G. Garson, “On the
Inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xv. (1886). p. 145; Mission
scientifique du Cap Horn, 1882-1883,
vii. (Paris, 1891) p. 345.
834. J. B. Ambrosetti, “Los Indios
Caingua del alto Paraná (misiones),”
Boletino del Instituto Geografico
Argentino, xv. (1895) pp. 703 sq.
835. E. F. im Thurn, Among the
Indians of Guiana, pp. 257 sq.
836. A. Widenmann, Die Kilimandscharo-Bevölkerung
(Gotha, 1899), pp.
68 sq. (Petermann’s Mittheilungen:
Ergänzungsheft, No. 129).
837. Sir Harry H. Johnston, British
Central Africa (London, 1897), p. 438.
838. A. F. Mockler-Ferryman, Up
the Niger (London, 1892), p. 37.
839. Miss Mary H. Kingsley, Travels
in West Africa, pp. 599 sq.
840. P. de Tournefort, Relation d’un
voyage du Levant (Amsterdam, 1718),
i. 93 (Lettre vi.); Sibthorp, in R. Walpole’s
Memoirs relating to European and
Asiatic Turkey (London, 1817), pp.
284 sq.; W. G. Clark, Peloponnesus
(London, 1858), p. 111; J. T. Bent,
The Cyclades (London, 1885), p. 365.
The giant fennel (Ferula communis, L.)
is still known in Greece by its ancient
name, hardly modified (nartheka
instead of narthex), though W. G.
Clark says the modern name is kalami.
Bent speaks of the plant as a reed,
which is a mistake. The plant is
described by Theophrastus (Histor.
plant. vi. 2. 7 sq.).
841. Hesiod, Works and Days, 50-52;
id., Theogony, 565-567; Aeschylus,
Prometheus Bound, 107-111; Apollodorus,
Bibliotheca, i. 7. 1; Hyginus,
Fabulae, 144; id., Astronomica, ii. 15.
842. See my article, “The Prytaneum,
the Temple of Vesta, the Vestals,
Perpetual Fires,” Journal of Philology,
xiv. (1885) pp. 169-171.
844. See my article, “The Prytaneum,
the Temple of Vesta, the Vestals, Perpetual
Fires,” Journal of Philology, xiv.
(1885) pp. 145 sqq.
845. G. Turner, Nineteen Years in
Polynesia (London, 1861), p. 326.
846. Ph. Paulitschke, Ethnographie
Nordost-Afrikas, die materielle Cultur
der Danâkil, Galla und Somâl (Berlin,
1893), p. 145.
847. J. B. Labat, Relation historique
de l’Éthiopie Occidentale, i. 256 sq.
848. J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the
Manners and Customs of the Baganda,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xxxii. (1902) pp. 43, 51 sq.;
id., in a letter to me dated Mengo,
Uganda, 3rd August 1904.
849. W. G. Browne, Travels in Africa,
Egypt, and Syria (London, 1799),
p. 306.
850. J. J. Monteiro, Angola and the
River Congo (London, 1875), ii. 167.
851. P. Pogge, Im Reiche des Muata
Jamwo (Berlin, 1880), p. 234.
852. A. Bastian, Die Völker des östlichen
Asien, iii. 515 sq.
853. Du Pratz, History of Louisiana
(London, 1774), pp. 330-334, 346 sq.,
351-358; Charlevoix, Histoire de la
Nouvelle France, vi. 172 sqq.; Lafitau,
Mœurs des sauvages Ameriquains, i.
167 sq.; Lettres édifiantes et curieuses,
Nouvelle Édition, vii. (Paris, 1781)
pp. 7-16 (reprinted in Recueil de
voyages au nord, ix. Amsterdam,
1737, pp. 3-13); “Relation de la
Louisianne,” Recueil de voyages au
Nord, v. (Amsterdam, 1734) pp.
23 sq.; Bossu, Nouveaux Voyages aux
Indes Occidentales (Paris, 1768), i.
42-44; Chateaubriand, Voyage en
Amérique (Paris, 1870), pp. 227 sqq.;
H. R. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, v.
68. The accounts differ from each
other in some details. Thus Du Pratz
speaks as if there were only two fire-temples
in the country, whereas the
writer in the Lettres édifiantes says
that there were eleven villages each
with its fire-temple, and that formerly
there had been sixty villages and
temples. The account in the text is
based mainly on the authority of Du
Pratz, who lived among the Natchez
on terms of intimacy for eight years,
from the end of 1718 to 1726.
854. Hennepin, Nouvelle Découverte
d’un très grand pays situé dans
l’Amérique (Utrecht, 1697), p. 306.
855. Xenophon, Cyropaedia, viii. 3.
12; Ammianus Marcellinus, xxiii. 6.
34; Quintus Curtius, iii. 3. 7.
856. Dio Cassius, lxxi. 35. 5; Herodian,
i. 8. 4, i. 16. 4, ii. 3. 2, ii. 8. 6, vii.
1. 9, vii. 6. 2.
860. Quintus Curtius, v. 2. 7. Curtius
represents this as a signal adopted by
Alexander, because the sound of the
bugle was lost in the trampling and
hum of the great multitude. But this
maybe merely the historian’s interpretation
of an old custom.
861. Xenophon, Respublica Lacedaemoniorum,
xiii. 2 sq.; Nicolaus Damascenus,
quoted by Stobaeus, Florilegium,
xliv. 41 (vol. ii. p. 188 ed. Meineke);
Hesychius, s.v. πυρσοφόρος.
865. Le P. H. Geurtjens, “Le Cérémonial
des Voyages aux Îles Keij,”
Anthropos, v. (1910) pp. 337 sq.
866. J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung,
iii. 2nd Ed., 237, 321; C. Julian, in
Daremberg et Saglio, Dictionnaire des
antiquités grecques et romaines, ii.
1173. As to Vesta and the Vestals,
see above, vol. i. pp. 13 sq.
871. Thus in some African tribes the
household fire is put out after a death,
and afterwards relit by the friction of
sticks (Sir H. H. Johnston, British
Central Africa, p. 439; L. Concradt,
“Die Ngumbu in Südkamerun,”
Globus, lxxxi, (1902) p. 352). In
Laos the fire on the hearth is extinguished
after a death and the ashes are
scattered; afterwards a new fire is
obtained from a neighbour (Tournier,
Notice sur le Laos français, p. 68).
A custom of the same sort is observed
in Burma, but there the new fire must
be bought (C. J. F. S. Forbes, British
Burma, p. 94). Among the Miris of
Assam the new fire is made by the
widow or widower (W. H. Furness,
in Journal of the Anthrop. Institute,
xxxii. (1902) p. 462). In Armenia
it is made by flint and steel (M.
Abeghian, Der armenische Volksglaube,
p. 71). In Argos fire was extinguished
after a death, and fresh fire
obtained from a neighbour (Plutarch,
Quaest. Graec. 24). In the Highlands
of Scotland all fires were put out
in a house where there was a corpse
(Pennant’s “Tour in Scotland,” in Pinkerton’s
Voyages and Travels, iii. 49).
Amongst the Bogos of East Africa no
fire may be lit in a house after a death
until the body has been carried out
(W. Munzinger, Sitten und Recht der
Bogos, p. 67). In the Pelew Islands,
when a death has taken place, fire is
transferred from the house to a shed
erected beside it (J. S. Kubary, “Die
Todtenbestattung auf den Pelau-Inseln,” Original-Mittheilungen aus
der Ethnologischen Abtheilung der
Königlichen Museen zu Berlin, i. 7).
In the Marquesas Islands fires were
extinguished after a death (Vincendon-Dumoulin
et Desgraz, Iles Marquises,
p. 251). Among the Indians of Peru
and the Moors of Algiers no fire might
be lighted for several days in a house
where a death had occurred (Cieza
de Leon, Travels, Markham’s translation,
p. 366; Dapper, Description de
l’Afrique, p. 176). The same custom
is reported of the Mohammedans of
India (Mandelsloe, in J. Harris’s
Voyages and Travels, i. (London,
1744) p. 770). In the East Indian
island of Wetter no fire may burn in
a house for three days after a death,
and according to Bastian the reason is
the one given in the text, to wit, a fear
that the ghost might fall into it and
hurt himself (A. Bastian, Indonesien,
ii. 60). For more evidence, see my
article “On certain Burial Customs,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xv. (1886) p. 90.
872. For the list of the Alban kings
see Livy, i. 3. 5-11; Ovid, Fasti, iv.
39-56; id., Metam. xiv. 609 sqq.;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit.
Rom. i. 70 sq.; Eusebius, Chronic.
bk. i. vol. i. coll. 273, 275, 285, 287,
289, 291, ed. A. Schoene; Diodorus
Siculus, vii. 3rd ed. L. Dindorf; Sextus
Aurelius Victor, Origo gentis Romanae,
17-19; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 1.
873. See B. G. Niebuhr, History of
Rome, i. 205-207; A. Schwegler,
Römische Geschichte, i. 339, 342-345.
However, Niebuhr admits that some
of the names may have been taken
from older legends.
874. H. M. Stanley, Through the Dark
Continent (London, 1878), i. 380;
C. T. Wilson and R. W. Felkin, Uganda
and the Egyptian Soudan (London,
1882), i. 197; Fr. Stuhlman, Mit
Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika
(Berlin, 1894), pp. 192 sq.; J. Roscoe,
“Farther Notes on the Manners and
Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of
the Anthropological Institute, xxxii.
(1902) p. 25, with plates i. and ii.;
Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda Protectorate,
ii. 681 sq.
875. Romulus and Tatius reigned for
a time together; after Romulus the
kings were, in order of succession,
Numa Pompilius, Tullus Hostilius,
Ancus Marcius, the elder Tarquin,
Servius Tullius, and Tarquin the
Proud.
876. See A. Schwegler, Römische Geschichte,
i. 579 sq.
877. According to one account, Romulus
had a son and a daughter (Plutarch,
Romulus, 14). Some held that Numa
had four sons (Plutarch, Numa, 21).
Ancus Marcius left two sons (Livy,
i. 35. 1, i. 40; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Ant. Rom. iii. 72 sq., iv.
34. 3). Tarquin the Elder left two
sons or grandsons (Livy, i. 46;
Dionysius Halic., Ant. Rom. iv. 6 sq.
iv. 28).
878. Pompilia, the mother of Ancus
Marcius, was a daughter of Numa.
See Cicero, De re publica, ii. 18. 33;
Livy, i. 32. 1; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Ant. Rom. ii. 76. 5, iii.
35. 3, iii. 36. 2; Plutarch, Numa, 21.
879. Numa married Tatia, the daughter
of Tatius (Plutarch, Numa, 3 and 21);
Servius Tullius married the daughter
of the elder Tarquin (Livy, i. 39. 4);
and Tarquin the Proud married Tullia
the daughter of Servius Tullius (Livy,
i. 42. 1, i. 46. 5).
880. Numa was a Sabine from Cures
(Livy, i. 18; Plutarch, Numa, 3;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom.
ii. 58); Servius Tullius, according to
the common account, was the son of
Ocrisia, a slave woman of Corniculum
(Livy, i. 39. 5; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Ant. Rom. iv. 1.), but according
to another account he was an
Etruscan (see above, p. 196 note); and
Tarquin the Proud was a son of the
elder Tarquin, who was an Etruscan
from Tarquinii (Livy, i. 34; Cicero,
De re publica, ii. 19 sq., §§ 34 sq.).
The foreign birth of their kings naturally
struck the Romans themselves.
See the speech put by Livy (i. 35. 3),
in the mouth of the elder Tarquin:
“Se non rem novam petere, quippe qui
non primus, quod quisquam indignari
mirarive posset, sed tertius Romae
peregrinus regnum adfectet; et Tatium
non ex peregrino solum sed etiam ex
hoste regem factum, et Numam ignarum
urbis non petentem in regnum ultro
accitum: se, ex quo sui potens fuerit,
Romam cum conjuge ac fortunis omnibus
commigrasse.” And see a passage
in a speech actually spoken by the
Emperor Claudius: “Quondam reges
hanc tenuere urbem, nec tamen domesticis
successoribus eam tradere contigit.
Supervenere alieni et quidem
externi, ut Numa Romulo successerit
ex Sabinis veniens, vicinus quidem
sed tunec externus,” etc. The speech
is engraved on bronze tablets found at
Lyons. See Tacitus, ed. Baiter and
Orelli, i. 2nd Ed., p. 342.
881. “In Ceylon, where the higher
and lower polyandry co-exist, marriage
is of two sorts—Deega or Beena—according
as the wife goes to live in
the house and village of her husbands,
or as the husband or husbands come to
live with her in or near the house of
her birth” (J. F. McLennan, Studies
in Ancient History (London, 1886),
p. 101).
882. The system of mother-kin, that is, of
tracing descent through females instead
of through males, is often called the
matriarchate. But this term is inappropriate
and misleading, as it implies
that under the system in question the
women govern the men. Even when
the so-called matriarchate regulates the
descent of the kingdom, this does not
mean that the women of the royal
family reign; it only means that they
are the channel through which the
kingship is transmitted to their husbands
or sons.
883. Ancient writers repeatedly speak
of the uncertainty as to the fathers of
the Roman kings. See Livy, i. 4. 2;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom.
ii. 2. 3; Cicero, De re publica, ii. 18.
33; Seneca, Epist. cviii. 30; Aelian,
Var. Hist. xiv. 36.
884. Ovid, Fasti, vi. 773-784; Varro,
De lingua Latina, vi. 17. Compare
L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., ii.
180 sq.
885. See The Golden Bough, Second
Edition, iii. 266 sqq., 328 sqq.
886. See Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second
Edition, pp. 203 sqq.; The Golden
Bough, Second Edition, iii. 318 sq.
888. T. E. Bowdich, Mission from Cape
Coast Castle to Ashantee, New Edition
(London, 1873), pp. 185, 204 sq.;
A. B. Ellis, The Tshi-speaking Peoples
of the Gold Coast, pp. 287, 297 sq.;
id., The Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the
Slave Coast, p. 187.
889. J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the
Manners and Customs of the Baganda,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute,
xxxii. (1902) pp. 36, 67. In Benin
“the legitimate daughters of a king
did not marry any one, but bestowed
their favours as they pleased.” (Mr. C.
Punch, in H. Ling Roth’s Great Benin
(Halifax, England, 1903), p. 37).
890. C. T. Wilson and R. W. Felkin,
Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan
(London, 1882), i. 200; J. Roscoe,
“Further Notes on the Manners and
Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of
the Anthropological Institute, xxxii.
(1902) p. 67.
891. J. Roscoe, op. cit. pp. 27, 62. Mr.
Roscoe says: “The royal family traces
its pedigree through the maternal clan,
but the nation through the paternal
clan.” But he here refers to the descent
of the totem only. That the
throne descends from father to son is
proved by the genealogical tables which
he gives (Plates I. and II.).
892. Proyart’s “History of Loango,”
in Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels,
xvi. 570, 579 sq.; L. Degrandpré,
Voyage à la côte occidentale d’Afrique
(Paris, 1801), pp. 110-114; A. Bastian,
Die deutsche Expedition an der Loango
Küste, i. 197 sqq. Time seems not
to have mitigated the lot of these
unhappy prince consorts. See R. E.
Dennett, At the Back of the Black
Man’s Mind (London, 1906), pp. 36
sq., 134. Mr. Dennett says that the
husband of a princess is virtually her
slave and may be put to death by her.
All the sisters of the King of Loango
enjoy these arbitrary rights over their
husbands, and the offspring of any of
them may become king.
893. Father Guillemé, “Au Bengouéolo,”
Missions Catholiques, xxxiv.
(1902) p. 16. The writer visited the
state and had an interview with the
queen, a woman of gigantic stature,
wearing many amulets.
895. Pausanias, ii. 29. 4. I have to
thank Mr. H. M. Chadwick for pointing
out the following Greek and
Swedish parallels to what I conceive
to have been the Latin practice.
896. Diodorus Siculus, iv. 72. 7. According
to Apollodorus (iii. 12. 7),
Cychreus, King of Salamis, died childless,
and bequeathed his kingdom to
Telamon.
897. J. Tzetzes, Schol. on Lycophron,
450. Compare Pausanias, ii. 29.
4.
898. Apollodorus, iii. 13. 1. According
to Diodorus Siculus (iv. 72. 6),
the king of Phthia was childless, and
bequeathed his kingdom to Peleus.
899. Apollodorus, iii. 13. 8; Hyginus,
Fabulae, 96.
906. Schol. on Euripides, Orestes, 46;
Pindar, Pyth. xi. 31 sq.; Pausanias,
iii. 19. 6.
907. H. M. Chadwick, The Origin of
the English Nation (Cambridge, 1907),
pp. 332 sq. In treating of the succession
to the kingdom in Scandinavia,
the late K. Maurer, one of the highest
authorities on old Norse law, also remarked
that “some ancient authorities
(Quellenberichte) profess to know of a
certain right of succession accorded to
women, in virtue of which under certain
circumstances, though they could
not themselves succeed to the kingdom,
they nevertheless could convey
it to their husbands.” And he cites a
number of instances, how one king
(Eysteinn Halfdanarson) succeeded his
father-in-law (Eirikr Agnarsson) on
the throne; how another (Gudrodr
Halfdanarson) received with his wife
Alfhildr a portion of her father’s kingdom;
and so on. See K. Maurer,
Vorlesungen über altnordische Rechtsgeschichte,
i. (Leipsic, 1907) pp. 233 sq.
908. G. W. Dasent, Popular Tales from
the Norse, pp. 131 sqq.; S. Grundtvig,
Dänische Volksmärchen, First Series
(Leipsic, 1878), pp. 285 sqq. (Leo’s
German translation); Cavallius und
Stephens, Schwedische Volkssagen und
Märchen, No. 4, pp. 62 sqq. (Oberleitner’s
German translation); Grimm,
Household Tales, No. 60; Kuhn und
Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen
und Gebräuche, pp. 340 sqq.; J. W.
Wolf, Deutsche Hausmärchen, pp. 372
sqq.; Philo vom Walde, Schlesien in
Sage und Brauch, pp. 81 sqq.; I. V.
Zingerle, Kinder- und Hausmärchen
aus Tirol, No. 8, pp. 35 sqq. No. 35,
pp. 178 sqq.; J. Haltrich, Deutsche
Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in
Siebenbürgen, 4th ed., No. 15, pp. 103 sqq.;
J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of
the West Highlands, No. 4, vol. i. pp.
77 sqq.; A. Schleicher, Litauische
Märchen, Sprichwörte, Rätsel und
Lieder, pp. 57 sqq.; A. Leskien und
K. Brugmann, Litauische Volkslieder
und Märchen, No. 14, pp. 404
sqq.; Basile, Pentamerone, First day,
seventh tale, vol. i. pp. 97 sqq.
(Liebrecht’s German translation); E.
Legrand, Contes populaires grecques,
pp. 169 sqq.; J. G. von Hahn,
Griechische und albanesische Märchen,
No. 98, vol. ii. pp. 114 sq.; A. und
A. Schott, Walachische Maehrchen, No.
10, pp. 140 sqq.; W. Webster, Basque
Legends, pp. 36-38; A. Schiefner,
Awarische Texte (St. Petersburg, 1873),
No. 2, pp. 21 sqq.; J. Rivière, Contes
populaires de la Kabylie, pp. 195-197.
909. Saxo Grammaticus, Historia
Danica, bk. iv. p. 126 (Elton’s
translation). The passage occurs on
p. 158 of P. E. Müller’s edition of
Saxo.
910. The story of Hamlet (Amleth) is
told, in a striking form, by Saxo
Grammaticus in the third and fourth
books of his history. Mr. H. M.
Chadwick tells me that Hamlet stands
on the border-line between legend and
history. Hence the main outlines of
his story may be correct.
912. Nicolaus Damascenus, vi. frag. 49,
in Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum,
ed. C. Müller, iii. 380.
913. Athenaeus, xii. 11, pp. 515 F-516
B; Apollodorus, ii. 6. 3; Diodorus
Siculus, iv. 31; Joannes Lydus, De
magistratibus, iii. 64; Lucian, Dialogi
deorum, xiii. 2; Ovid, Heroides, ix.
55 sqq.; Statius, Theb. x. 646-649.
915. Herodotus, i. 93; Clearchus,
quoted by Athenaeus, xii. 11, p. 516
A B. The Armenians also prostituted
their daughters before marriage, dedicating
them for a long time to the
profligate worship of the goddess
Anaitis (Strabo, xi. 14. 16, p. 532
sq.). The custom was probably practised
as a charm to secure the fertility
of the earth as well as of man and
beast. See Adonis, Attis, Osiris,
Second Edition, pp. 32 sqq.
917. Clearchus, quoted by Athenaeus,
xiii. 31, p. 573 A B.
918. See E. A. Freeman, History of
the Norman Conquest of England, i. 3rd Ed.,
410-412, 733-737. I am indebted to
my friend Mr. H. M. Chadwick both
for the fact and its explanation.
919. Procopius, De bello Gothico, iv. 20
(vol. ii. p. 593, ed. J. Haury). This and
the following cases of marriage with a
stepmother are cited by K. Weinhold,
Deutsche Frauen 2nd Ed., (Vienna, 1882), ii.
359 sq.
920. Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis
Anglorum, ii. 5. 102; compare i. 27.
63.
921. Prudentius Trecensis, “Annales,”
anno 858, in Pertz’s Monumenta
Germaniae historica, i. 451; Ingulfus,
Historia, quoted ibid.
922. This is in substance the view of
Dr. W. E. Hearn (The Aryan House-hold,
pp. 150-155) and of Prof. B.
Delbrück (“Das Mutterrecht bei den
Indogermanen,” Preussische Jahrbücher,
lxxix. (1895) pp. 14-27).
923. Clearchus of Soli, quoted by
Athenaeus, xiii. 2. p. 555 D; John of
Antioch, in Fragmenta Historicorum
Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iv. 547;
Charax of Pergamus ib. iii. 638;
J. Tzetzes, Schol. on Lycophron, 111;
id., Chiliades, v. 650-665; Suidas,
s.v. Κέκροψ; Justin, ii. 6. 7.
924. Ὁ μὲν οὖν ἀθηναῖος Σόλων ὁμοπατρίους
ἐφεὶς ἄγεσθαι, τὰς ὁμομητρίους
ἐκώλυσεν, ὁ δὲ Λακεδαιμονίων νομοθέτης
ἔμπαλιν, τὸν ἐπὶ ταῖς ὁμογαστρίοις γάμον
ἐπιτρέψας, τὸν πρὸς τὰς ὁμοπατρίους
ἀπεῖπεν, Philo Judaeus, De specialibus
legibus, vol. ii. p. 303, ed. Th. Mangey.
See also Plutarch, Themistocles, 32;
Cornelius Nepos, Cimon, 1; Schol.
on Aristophanes, Clouds, 1371; L.
Beauchet, Histoire du droit privé de
la République Athénienne, i. (Paris,
1897) pp. 165 sqq. Compare Minucius
Felix, Octavius, 31.
926. Strabo, xiii. 1. 40, pp. 600 sq.;
Plutarch, De sera numinis vindicta,
12; and especially Lycophron, Cassandra, 1141 sqq., with the scholia of
J. Tzetzes, who refers to Timaeus and
Callimachus as his authorities.
929. Tacitus, Germania, 20. Compare
L. Dargun, Mutterrecht und Raubehe
und ihre Reste im germanischen Recht
und Leben (Breslau, 1883), pp. 21 sq.
930. A. Giraud-Teulon, Les Origines du
mariage et de la famille, pp. 206 sqq.;
A. H. Post, Afrikanische Jurisprudenz,
i. 13 sqq.; Sir Harry H. Johnston,
British Central Africa, p. 471; A. B.
Ellis, The Tshi-speaking Peoples of the
Gold Coast, pp. 297 sq.; id., The
Ewe-speaking Peoples of the Slave
Coast, pp. 207 sqq. Much more evidence
will be found in my Totemism
and Exogamy.
931. R. H. Codrington, The Melanesians,
p. 50, note 2.
933. A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of
South-East Australia, pp. 286 sqq.
The reipus or payment made on the
remarriage of a widow is discussed by
L. Dargun, op. cit. pp. 141-152.
934. W. F. Skene held that the Picts
were Celts. See his Celtic Scotland,
i. 194-227. On the other hand, H.
Zimmer supposes them to have been
the pre-Celtic inhabitants of the British
Islands. See his paper “Das Mutterrecht
der Pikten,” Zeitschrift der
Savigny-Stiftung für Rechtsgeschichte,
xv. (1894) Romanistische Abtheilung,
pp. 209 sqq.
935. “Cumque uxores Picti non habentes
peterent a Scottis, ea solum conditione
dare consenserunt, ut ubi res perveniret
in dubium, magis de feminea regum
prosapia quam de masculina regem sibi
eligerent; quod usque hodie apud Pictos
constat esse servatum,” Bede, Historia
ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, ii. 1. 7.
936. W. F. Skene, Celtic Scotland, i.
232-235; J. F. McLennan, Studies in
Ancient History (London, 1886), pp.
68-70; H. Zimmer, loc. cit.
937. K. O. Müller, Die Etrusker (Stuttgart,
1877), ii. 376 sq.; J. J. Bachofen,
Die Sage von Tanaquil (Heidelberg,
1870), pp. 282-290.
938. Θεόπομπος δ’ ἐν τῇ τεσσαρακοστῇ
τρίτῃ τῶν ἱστοριῶν καὶ νόμον εἶναί φησι
παρὰ τοῖς Τυρρηνοῖς κοινὰς ὑπάρχειν τὰς
γυναῖκας ... τρέφειν δὲ τοὺς Τυρρηνοὺς
πάντα τὰ γινόμενα παιδία, οὐκ
εἰδότας ὅτου πάτρος ἐστὶν ἕκαστον,
Athenaeus, xii. 14, p. 517 D E.
939. “Non enim hic, ubi ex Tusco modo
Tute tibi indigne dotem quaeras corpore”
(Plautus, Cistellaria, ii. 3. 20 sq.).
940. Herodotus, i. 94; Strabo, v. 2. 2,
p. 219; Tacitus, Annals, iv. 55;
Timaeus, cited by Tertullian, De spectaculis,
5; Festus, s.v. “Turannos,” p.
355, ed. C. O. Müller; Plutarch,
Romulus, 2; Velleius Paterculus, i.
1. 4; Justin, xx. 1. 7; Valerius Maximus,
ii. 4. 4; Servius, on Virgil, Aen.
i. 67. On the other hand, Dionysius
of Halicarnassus held that the Etruscans
were an indigenous Italian race,
differing from all other known peoples
in language and customs (Ant. Rom.
i. 26-30). On this much-vexed question,
see K. O. Müller, Die Etrusker
(Stuttgart, 1877), i. 65 sqq.; G. Dennis,
Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, 3rd Ed.,
i. pp. xxxiii. sqq.; F. Hommel, Grundriss
der Geographie und Geschichte des
Alten Orients, 2nd Ed., pp. 63 sqq. (in Iwan
von Müller’s Handbuch der klassischen
Altertumswissenschaft, vol. iii.).
941. It is doubtful whether Servius Tullius
was a Latin or an Etruscan. See
above, p. 195, note 1.
942. “All over India the hedge-priest
is very often an autochthon, his long
residence in the land being supposed
to confer upon him the knowledge of
the character and peculiarities of the
local gods, and to teach him the
proper mode in which they may be
conciliated. Thus the Doms preserve
to the present day the animistic and
demonistic beliefs of the aboriginal
races, which the Khasiyas, who have
succeeded them, temper with the worship
of the village deities, the named
and localised divine entities, with the
occasional languid cult of the greater
Hindu gods. The propitiation of the
vague spirits of wood, or cliff, river
or lake, they are satisfied to leave in
charge of their serfs” (W. Crooke,
Natives of Northern India, London,
1907, pp. 104 sq.). When the Israelites
had been carried away captives
into Assyria, the new settlers in the
desolate land of Israel were attacked
by lions, which they supposed to be sent
against them by the god of the country
because, as strangers, they did not know
how to propitiate him. So they petitioned
the king of Assyria and he sent
them a native Israelitish priest, who
taught them how to worship the God
of Israel. See 2 Kings xvii. 24-28.
943. H. Jordan, Die Könige im alten
Italien (Berlin, 1884), pp. 15-25.
944. Livy, i. 56. 7; Dionysius Halicarnasensis,
Ant. Rom. iv. 68. 1.
945. Livy, i. 34. 2 sq., i. 38. 1, i. 57.
6; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant.
Rom. iv. 64.
946. I owe to Mr. A. B. Cook the
interesting suggestion that the double
consulship was a revival of a double
kingship.
948. Pausanias, iv. 5. 10; G. Gilbert,
Handbuch der griech. Staatsalterthümer,
i. 2nd Ed., 122 sq.
949. The two supreme magistrates who
replaced the kings were at first called
praetors. See Livy, iii. 55. 12;
B. G. Niebuhr, History of Rome, 3rd Ed., i.
520 sq.; Th. Mommsen, Römisches
Staatsrecht, ii. 3rd Ed., 74 sqq. That the
power of the first consuls was, with
the limitations indicated in the text,
that of the old kings is fully recognised
by Livy (ii. 1. 7 sq.).
950. It was a disputed point whether
Tarquin the Proud was the son or
grandson of Tarquin the Elder. Most
writers, and Livy (i. 46. 4) among
them, held that he was a son. Dionysius
of Halicarnassus, on the other
hand, argued that he must have been
a grandson; he insists strongly on the
chronological difficulties to which the
ordinary hypothesis is exposed if Servius
Tullius reigned, as he is said to
have reigned, forty-four years. See
Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. iv. 6 sq.
951. Livy, i. 48. 2; Dionysius Halic.
Ant. Rom. iv. 31 sq. and 46.
952. Livy, i. 56; Dionysius Halic.
Ant. Rom. iv. 67-69, 77; Valerius
Maximus, vii. 3. 2; Aurelius Victor,
De viris illustribus, x. The murder
of Brutus’s father and brother is recorded
by Dionysius; the other writers
mention the assassination of his brother
only. The resemblance between
Brutus and Hamlet has been pointed
out before. See F. York Powell, in
Elton’s translation of Saxo Grammaticus’s
Danish History (London, 1894),
pp. 405-410.
953. D. Livingstone, Missionary
Travels and Researches in South Africa,
pp. 617 sq. Many more examples
are given by A. H. Post, Afrikanische
Jurisprudenz (Oldenburg and Leipsic),
i. 134 sqq.
955. H. Hecquard, Reise an die Küste
und in das Innere von West-Afrika
(Leipsic, 1854), p. 104. This and
the preceding example are cited by
A. H. Post, l.c.
956. J. A. Chisholm, “Notes on the
Manners and Customs of the Winamwanga
and Wiwa,” Journal of the
African Society, No. 36 (July 1910),
p. 384.
957. J. Spieth, Die Ewe-Stämme (Berlin,
1906), pp. 784 sq.
958. Sir William MacGregor, “Lagos,
Abeokuta, and the Alake,” Journal of
the African Society, No. 12 (July 1904),
pp. 470 sq.
959. C. Partridge, “The Burial of the
Atta of Igaraland, and the ‘Coronation’
of his Successor,” Blackwood’s
Magazine, September 1904, pp. 329 sq.
Mr. Partridge kindly gave me some
details as to the election of the king in
a letter dated 24th October 1904. He
is Assistant District Commissioner in
Southern Nigeria.
960. Major P. R. T. Gurdon, The Khasis (London, 1907), pp. 66-75.
961. Livy, i. 17; Cicero, De re publica,
ii. 17. 31.
962. As to the nomination of the King
of the Sacred Rites see Livy, xl. 42;
Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. v. 1. 4.
The latter writer says that the augurs
co-operated with the pontiff in the
nomination.
963. Th. Mommsen, Römisches Staatsrecht,
ii. 3rd Ed., 6-8; A. H. J. Greenidge,
Roman Public Life, pp. 45 sqq. Mr.
Greenidge thinks that the king was
regularly nominated by his predecessor
and only occasionally by an interim
king. Mommsen holds that he was
always nominated by the latter.
965. Nicolaus Damascenus, in Stobaeus,
Florilegium, xliv. 41 (Frag. Histor.
Graec. ed. C. Müller, iii. 463). Other
writers say simply that the tallest,
strongest, or handsomest man was
chosen king. See Herodotus, iii. 20;
Aristotle, Politics, iv. 4; Athenaeus,
xiii. 20, p. 566 c.
967. J. Shooter, The Kafirs of Natal,
pp. 4 sq. Compare D. Livingstone,
Missionary Travels and Researches in
South Africa, p. 186; W. Max Müller,
Asien und Europa (Leipsic, 1893), p.
110.
970. Hippocrates, De aere locis et aquis
(vol. i. pp. 550 sq. ed. Kühn).
971. Captain Guy Burrows, The Land
of the Pigmies (London, 1898), p.
95. Speaking of this tribe, Emin
Pasha observes: “The most curious
custom, however, and one which is
particularly observed in the ruling
families, is bandaging the heads of
infants. By means of these bandages
a lengthening of the head along its
horizontal axis is produced; and
whereas the ordinary Monbutto people
have rather round heads, the form of the
head in the better classes shows an
extraordinary increase in length, which
certainly very well suits their style of
hair and of hats.” See Emin Pasha
in Central Africa, being a Collection of
Letters and Journals (London, 1888),
p. 212.
972. Lewis and Clark, Expedition to
the Sources of the Missouri, ch. 23,
vol. ii. 327 sq. (reprinted at London,
1905); D. W. Harmon, quoted by Rev. J.
Morse, Report to the Secretary of War
of the United States on Indian Affairs
(Newhaven, 1822), Appendix, p. 346;
H. R. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes,
ii. 325 sq.; R. C. Mayne, Four Years
in British Columbia, p. 277; G. M.
Sproat, Scenes and Studies of Savage
Life, pp. 28-30; H. H. Bancroft,
Native Races of the Pacific States, i.
180.
973. C. Hill-Tout, The Far West, the
Home of the Salish and Déné (London,
1907), p. 40. As to the custom in
general among these tribes, see ibid.
pp. 38-41. In Melanesia the practice
of artificially lengthening the head
into a cone by means of bandages
applied in infancy is observed by the
natives of Malikolo (Malekula) in the
New Hebrides and also by the natives
of the south coast of New Britain,
from Cape Roebuck to Cape Bedder.
See Beatrice Grimshaw, From Fiji to
the Cannibal Islands (London, 1907),
pp. 258-260; R. Parkinson, Dreissig
Jahre in der Südsee (Stuttgart, 1907),
pp. 204-206.
974. V. Fric and P. Radin, “Contributions
to the Study of the Bororo
Indians,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxxvi. (1906) pp. 388 sq.
979. Apollodorus, Epitoma, ii. 4-9, ed.
R. Wagner (Apollodorus, Bibliotheca,
ed. R. Wagner, pp. 183 sq.); Diodorus
Siculus, iv. 73; Pausanias, v. 1. 6 sq.,
v. 10. 6 sq., v. 14. 7, v. 17. 7 sq., v.
20. 6 sq., vi. 21. 7-11.
986. E. Schuyler, Turkistan (London,
1876), i. 42 sq. This and the four
following examples of the bride-race
have been already cited by J. F.
McLennan, Studies in Ancient History
(London, 1886), pp. 15 sq., 181-184.
He supposes them to be relics of a
custom of capturing women from
another community.
987. E. D. Clarke, Travels in Various
Countries, i. (London, 1810), p. 333.
In the fourth octavo edition of Clarke’s
Travels (vol. i., London, 1816), from
which McLennan seems to have quoted,
there are a few verbal changes.
988. J. McLennan, op. cit. pp. 183
sq., referring to Kennan’s Tent Life
in Siberia (1870), which I have not
seen. Compare W. Jochelson, “The
Koryak” (Leyden and New York,
1908), p. 742 (Memoir of the American
Museum of Natural History, The Jesup
North Pacific Expedition, vol. vi.).
989. Letter of the missionary Bigandet,
dated March 1847, in Annales de la
Propagation de la Foi, xx. (1848) p.
431. A similar account of the
ceremony is given by M. Bourien,
“Wild Tribes of the Malay Peninsula,”
Transactions of the Ethnological Society
of London, N.S. iii. (1865) p. 81.
See further W. W. Skeat and C.O.
Blagden, Pagan Races of the Malay
Peninsula (London, 1906), ii. 68, 77
sq., 79 sq., 82 sq.
990. J. Cameron, Our Tropical Possessions
in Malayan India (London,
1865), pp. 116 sq.
991. Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir
(London, 1904), p. 219.
992. Middle High German brûtlouf,
modern German Brautlauf, Anglo-Saxon
brydhléap, old Norse brudhlaup,
modern Norse bryllup. See Grimm,
Deutsches Wörterbuch, s.v. “Brautlauf”;
K. Weinhold, Deutsche
Frauen, 2nd Ed., i. 407. The latter writer
supposes the word to refer merely to
the procession from the house of the
bride to the house of the bridegroom.
But Grimm is most probably right in
holding that originally it applied to a
real race for the bride. This is the
view also of K. Simrock (Deutsche
Mythologie, 5th Ed. pp. 598 sq.). Another
writer sees in it a trace of marriage by
capture (L. Dargun, Mutterrecht und
Raubehe (Breslau, 1883), p. 130).
Compare K. Schmidt, Jus primae
noctis (Freiburg i. B. 1881), p. 129.
993. A. Kuhn, Märkische Sagen und
Märchen (Berlin, 1843), p. 358.
994. W. Kolbe, Hessische Volks-sitten
und Gebräuche (Marburg, 1888), pp.
150 sq.
995. Lentner and Dahn, in Bavaria,
Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs
Bayern, i. (Munich, 1860) pp. 398 sq.
996. J. Brand, Popular Antiquities, ii.
153-155 (Bohn’s edition); J. Jamieson,
Dictionary of the Scottish Language,
s.v. “Broose.”
997. E. Herrmann, “Über Lieder
und Bräuche bei Hochzeiten in
Kärnten,” Archiv für Anthropologie,
xix. (1891) p. 169.
998. Nicolaus Damascenus, quoted by
Stobaeus, Florilegium, xliv. 41;
Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum,
ed. C. Müller, iii. 457.
1000. Arthur Young, “Tour in Ireland,”
in Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, iii.
860.
1001. Mahabharata, condensed into
English by Romesch Dutt (London,
1898), pp. 15 sqq.; J. C. Oman, The
Great Indian Epics, pp. 109 sqq.
1002. J. D. Mayne, A Treatise on Hindu
Law and Usage 3rd Ed., (Madras and London,
1883), p. 56; The Vikramânkadevacharita,
edited by G. Bühler (Bombay,
1875), pp. 38-40; A. Holtzmann,
Das Mahābharata und seine Theile, i.
(Kiel, 1895), pp. 21 sq.; J. Jolly,
Recht und Sitte, pp. 50 sq. (in G.
Bühler’s Grundriss der indo-arischen
Philologie).
1003. The Book of Ser Marco Polo., Yule’s
translation, 2nd Ed., bk. iv. ch. 4, vol. ii. pp.
461-463.
1004. The Lay of the Nibelungs, translated
by Alice Horton (London, 1898),
Adventures vi. and vii.
1005. Parthenius, Narrat. Amat. vi.
This passage was pointed out to me
by Mr. A. B. Cook, who has himself
discussed the contest for the kingship.
See his article, “The European Sky-god,”
Folk-lore, xv. (1904) pp. 376
sqq.
1006. Herodotus, vi. 126-130. It is to
be observed that in this and other of
the examples cited above the succession
to the kingdom did not pass with the
hand of the princess.
1007. See above, pp. 69, 84, 90sq. These
customs were observed at Whitsuntide,
not on May Day. But the Whitsuntide
king and queen are obviously equivalent
to the King and Queen of May.
Hence I allow myself to use the latter
and more familiar titles so as to include
the former.
1008. Ovid, Fasti, ii. 685 sqq.; Plutarch,
Quaest. Rom. 63; J. Marquardt, Römische
Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 323 sq.;
W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of
the Period of the Republic, pp. 327
sqq.
1009. Another proposed explanation of
the regifugium is that the king fled
because at the sacrifice he had incurred
the guilt of slaying a sacred animal.
See W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals
of the Period of the Republic,
pp. 328 sqq. The best-known example
of such a ritual flight is that
of the men who slew the ox at the
Athenian festival of the Bouphonia.
See The Golden Bough, Second Edition,
ii. 294. Amongst the Pawnees
the four men who assisted at the sacrifice
of a girl to Ti-ra’-wa used to run
away very fast after the deed was done
and wash themselves in the river. See
G. B. Grinnell, Pawnee Hero Stories
and Folk-Tales (New York, 1889), pp.
365 sq. Among the ancient Egyptians
the man whose duty it was to slit open
a corpse for the purpose of embalming
it fled as soon as he had done his part,
pursued by all the persons present, who
pelted him with stones and cursed him,
“turning as it were the pollution on
him; for they suppose that any one
who violates or wounds or does any
harm to the person of a fellow-tribesman
is hateful” (Diodorus Siculus, i.
91. 4). Similarly in the western
islands of Torres Straits the man whose
duty it was to decapitate a corpse for
the purpose of preserving the skull was
shot at with arrows by the relatives of
the deceased as an expiation for the
injury he had done to the corpse of their
kinsman. See Reports of the Cambridge
Anthropological Expedition to
Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904)
pp. 249, 251. This explanation of the
regifugium certainly deserves to be
considered. But on this as on so many
other points of ancient ritual we can
hardly hope ever to attain to certainty.
1010. F. Cumont, “Les Actes de S.
Dasius,” Analecta Bollandiana, xvi.
(1897) pp. 5-16. See further Messrs.
Parmentier and Cumont, “Le Roi des
Saturnales,” Revue de Philologie, xxi.
(1897) pp. 143-153; The Golden
Bough, Second Edition, iii. 138 sqq.
The tomb of St. Dasius, a Christian
soldier who was put to death at Durostorum
in 303 A.D. after refusing to play
the part of Saturn at the festival, has
since been discovered at Ancona. A
Greek inscription on the tomb records
that the martyr’s remains were brought
thither from Durostorum. See F.
Cumont, “Le Tombeau de S. Dasius
de Durostorum,” Analecta Bollandiana,
xxvii. (1908) pp. 369-372. Professor
A. Erhard of Strasburg, who has been
engaged for years in preparing an
edition of the Acta Martyrum for the
Berlin Corpus of Greek Fathers, informed
me in conversation at Cambridge
in the summer of 1910 that he
ranks the Acts of St. Dasius among
the authentic documents of their
class. The plain unvarnished narrative
bears indeed the stamp of truth on its
face.
1011. Tacitus, Annals, xiii. 15; Arrian,
Epicteti dissert. i. 25. 8; Lucian,
Saturnalia, 4.
1012. As to these temporary kings see The
Golden Bough, Second Edition, ii. 24 sqq.
1013. Varro, Rerum rusticarum, iii. 1.
5; Virgil, Aen. viii. 324; Tibullus,
i. 3. 35; Augustine, De civitate Dei,
vii. 19. Compare Wissowa, in W. H.
Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm.
Mythologie, iv. 433 sq.
1014. On Saturn as the god of sowing
and the derivation of his name from a
root meaning “to sow,” from which
comes satus “sowing,” see Varro, De
lingua Latina, v. 64; Festus, s.v.
“Opima spolia,” p. 186, ed. C. O.
Müller; Augustine, De civitate Dei,
vii. 2, 3. 13, 15; Wissowa, in W. H.
Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm.
Mythologie, iv. 428. The derivation
is confirmed by the form Saeturnus
which occurs in an inscription (Saeturni
pocolom, H. Dessau, Inscript. Latinae
selectae, No. 2966). As to the Saturnalia
see L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
ii. 15 sqq.; J. Marquardt, Römische
Staatsverwaltung, 2nd Ed., pp. 586 sqq.;
Dezobry, Rome au siècle d’Auguste,
iii. 143 sqq.; W. Warde Fowler, Roman
Festivals of the Period of the Republic,
pp. 268 sqq. The festival was held from
the seventeenth to the twenty-third of
December. I formerly argued that in
the old days, when the Roman year
began with March instead of with
January, the Saturnalia may have been
held from the seventeenth to the twenty-third
of February, in which case the
festival must have immediately preceded
the Flight of the King, which fell on
February the twenty-fourth. See The
Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 144
sqq.; Lectures on the Early History of
the Kingship, p. 266. But this
attempt to bring the ancient Saturnalia
into immediate juxtaposition to the
King’s Flight breaks down when we
observe, as my friend Mr. W. Warde
Fowler has pointed out to me, that the
Saturnalia fell in December under the
Republic, long before Caesar, in his
reform of the calendar, had shifted the
commencement of the year from March
to January. See Livy, xxii. 1. 19 sq.
1015. Roman farmers sowed wheat, spelt,
and barley in December, flax up to the
seventh of that month, and beans up to
the eleventh (the festival of Septimontium).
See Palladius, De re rustica,
xiii. 1. In the lowlands of Sicily at the
present day November and December
are the months of sowing, but in the
highlands August and September. See
G. Pitrè, Usi e costumi, credenze e
pregiudizi del popolo siciliano, iii.
(Palermo, 1889) pp. 132 sqq. Hence
we may suppose that in the Roman
Campagna of old the last sowing of
autumn was over before the middle of
December, when the Saturnalia began.
1016. This temporary liberty accorded to
slaves was one of the most remarkable
features of the Saturnalia and kindred
festivals in antiquity. See The Golden
Bough, Second Edition, iii. 139 sqq.
1017. The learned Swiss scholar, J. J.
Bachofen long ago drew out in minute
detail the parallel between these birth
legends of the Roman kings and
licentious festivals like the Roman
Saturnalia and the Babylonian Sacaea.
See his book Die Sage von Tanaquil
(Heidelberg, 1870), pp. 133 sqq. To
be frank, I have not had the patience
to read through his long dissertation.
1018. Livy, i. 16; Dionysius Halic. Ant.
Rom. ii. 56; Plutarch, Romulus, 27;
Florus, i. 1. 16 sq. See above, pp.
181sq.
1019. Varro, De lingua Latina, vi. 18;
Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id., Camillus,
33; Macrobius, Saturn. i. 11. 36-40.
The analogy of this festival to the
Babylonian Sacaea was long ago
pointed out by J. J. Bachofen. See his
book Die Sage von Tanaquil (Heidelberg,
1870), pp. 172 sqq.
1020. Aristotle, Hist. anim. v. 32, p.
557b, ed. Bekker; Theophrastus, Hist.
Plant. ii. 8; id., De causis plantarum,
ii. 9; Plutarch, Quaest. conviv. vii. 2.
2; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 79-81, xvi.
114, xvii. 256; Palladius, iv. 10. 28,
vii. 5. 2; Columella, xi. 2. 56; Geoponica,
iii. 6, x. 48. As to the practice
in modern Greece and the fig-growing
districts of Asia Minor, see P. de Tournefort,
Relation d’un voyage du Levant
(Amsterdam, 1718), i. 130; W. R.
Paton, “The Pharmakoi and the Story
of the Fall,” Revue archéologique,
IVème Série, ix. (1907) p. 51. For an
elaborate examination of the process
and its relation to the domestication
and spread of the fig-tree, see Graf
zu Solms-Laubach, “Die Herkunft,
Domestication und Verbreitung des
gewöhnlichen Feigenbaums (Ficus
Carica, L.),” Abhandlungen der Königlichen
Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften
zu Göttingen, xxviii. (1882) pp. 1-106.
This last writer thinks that the operation
was not practised by Italian
husbandmen, because it is not mentioned
by Cato and Varro. But their silence
can hardly outweigh the express mention
and recommendation of it by Palladius
and Columella. Theophrastus,
it is true, says that the process was
not in use in Italy (Hist. Plantarum,
ii. 8. 1), but he can scarcely have had
exact information on this subject.
Caprificatio, as this artificial fertilisation
of fig-trees is called, is still
employed by the Neapolitan peasantry,
though it seems to be unknown in
northern Italy. Pliny’s account has no
independent value, as he merely copies
from Theophrastus. The name “goat-fig”
(caprificus) applied to the wild
fig-tree may be derived from the notion
that the tree is a male who mounts the
female as the he-goat mounts the she-goat.
Similarly the Messenians called
the tree simply “he-goat” (τράγος).
See Pausanias, iv. 20. 1-3.
1021. G. Pitrè, Usi e costumi, credenze
e pregiudizi del popolo siciliano, iii.
113.
1022. Budgett Meakin, The Moors (London,
1902), p. 258; E. Doutté, Magie
et religion dans l’Afrique du Nord
(Algiers, 1908), p. 568.
1023. A. Engler, in V. Hehn’s Kulturpflanzen
und Hausthiere, 7th Ed., (Berlin,
1902), p. 99. Compare Graf zu Solms-Laubach,
op. cit.; Encyclopaedia Biblica,
s.v. “Fig-tree,” vol. iv. 1519. The
ancients were well aware of the production
of these insects in the wild fig-tree
and their transference to the cultivated
fig-tree. Sometimes instead of fertilising
the trees by hand they contented themselves
with planting wild fig-trees near
cultivated fig-trees, so that the fertilisation
was effected by the wind, which blew
the insects from the male to the female
trees. See Aristotle, l.c.; Theophrastus,
De causis plantarum, ii. 9; Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xv. 79-81; Palladius, iv.
10. 28. On subject of the fertilisation
of the fig the late Professor H. Marshall
Ward of Cambridge kindly furnished
me with the following note,
which will serve to supplement and
correct the brief account in the text:—“The
fig is a hollow case full of
flowers. In the wild fig a small gall
wasp (Cynips psenes) lays its eggs: this
kind of fig is still called Caprificus.
The eggs hatch in the female flowers at
the base of the hollow fig: at the top,
near the ostiole observable on any ripe
fig, are the male flowers. When the
eggs hatch, and the little insects creep
through the ostiole, the male flowers
dust the wasp with pollen, and the
insect flies to another flower (to lay its
eggs), and so fertilises many of the
female flowers in return for the nursery
afforded its eggs. Now, the cultivated
fig is apt to be barren of male flowers.
Hence the hanging of branches bearing
wild figs enables the escaping wasps
to do the trick. The ancients knew
the fact that the propinquity of the
Caprificus helped the fertility of the
cultivated fig, but, of course, they did
not know the details of the process.
The further complexities are, chiefly,
that the fig bears two kinds of female
flowers: one especially fitted for the
wasp’s convenience, the other not.
The Caprificus figs are inedible. In
Naples three crops of them are borne
every year, viz. Mamme (in April),
Profichi (in June), and Mammoni (in
August). It is the June crop that bears
most male flowers and is most useful.”
The suggestion that the festival of the
seventh of July was connected with
this horticultural operation is due to L.
Preller (Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 287).
1025. 1 Kings iv. 25; 2 Kings xviii.
31; Isaiah xxxvi. 16; Micah iv. 4;
Zechariah iii. 10; Judges ix. 10 sq.;
H. B. Tristram, The Natural History
of the Bible 9th Ed. (London, 1898), pp. 350
sqq.; Encyclopaedia Biblica, s.v. “Fig
Tree,” vol. ii. 1519 sq.
1027. Zamachschar, cited by Graf zu
Solms-Laubach, op. cit. p. 82. For
more evidence as to the fig in antiquity
see V. Hehn, Kulturpflanzen und
Hausthiere, 7th Ed., pp. 94 sqq.
1028. Letter of Mr. C. W. Hobley to
me, dated Nairobi, British East Africa,
July 27th, 1910. This interesting information
was given spontaneously and
not in answer to any questions of
mine.
1029. C. W. Hobley, The Ethnology of
A-Kamba and other East African Tribes
(Cambridge, 1910), pp. 85, 89 sq. In
British Central Africa “every village
has its ‘prayer-tree,’ under which the
sacrifices are offered. It stands (usually)
in the bwalo, the open space which Mr.
Macdonald calls the ‘forum,’ and is,
sometimes, at any rate, a wild fig-tree.”
“This is the principal tree used for
making bark-cloth. Livingstone says,
‘It is a sacred tree all over Africa and
India’; and I learn from M. Auguste
Chevalier that it is found in every
village of Senegal and French Guinea,
and looked on as ‘a fetich-tree’”
(Miss A. Werner, The Natives of British
Central Africa, pp. 62 sq.).
1030. From the unpublished papers of the
Rev. John Roscoe, which he has kindly
placed at my disposal.
1031. Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 54;
Livy, i. 4. 5; Ovid, Fasti, ii. 411 sq.;
Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 77; Festus, pp.
266, 270, 271, ed. C. O. Müller; Tacitus,
Annals, xiii. 58; Servius on Virgil,
Aen. viii. 90; Plutarch, Romulus,
4; id., Quaestiones Romanae, 57;
Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquitates
Romanae, iii. 71. 5. All the Roman
writers speak of the tree as a cultivated
fig (ficus), not a wild fig (caprificus),
and Dionysius agrees with them.
Plutarch alone (Romulus, 4) describes
it as a wild fig-tree (ἐρινεός). See also
above, p. 10.
1032. Festus, p. 266, ed. C. O. Müller;
Ettore Pais, Ancient Legends of Roman
History (London, 1906), pp. 55 sqq.
Festus indeed treats the derivation as
an absurdity, and many people will be
inclined to agree with him.
1033. On the fifth of July a ceremony
called the Flight of the People was
performed at Rome. Some ancient
writers thought that it commemorated
the dispersal of the people after the
disappearance of Romulus. But this is
to confuse the dates; for, according to
tradition, the death of Romulus took
place on the seventh, not the fifth of
July, and therefore after instead of
before the Flight of the People.
See Varro, De lingua Latina,
vi. 18; Macrobius, Sat. iii. 2. 14;
Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. ii.
56. 5; Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id.,
Camillus, 33; W. Warde Fowler,
Roman Festivals of the Period of the
Republic, pp. 174 sqq. Mr. Warde
Fowler may be right in thinking that
some connexion perhaps existed between
the ceremonies of the two days,
the fifth and the seventh; and I agree
with his suggestion that “the story
itself of the death of Romulus had
grown out of some religious rite performed
at this time of year.” I note
as a curious coincidence, for it can
hardly be more, that at Bodmin in
Cornwall a festival was held on the
seventh of July, when a Lord of
Misrule was appointed, who tried
people for imaginary crimes and sentenced
them to be ducked in a quagmire
called Halgaver, which is explained to mean “the goat’s moor.”
See T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British
Popular Customs, p. 339. The “goat’s
moor” is an odd echo of the “goat’s
marsh” at which Romulus disappeared
on the same day of the year (Livy, i.
16. 1; Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id.,
Camillus, 33).
1034. Livy, i. 14. 1 sq.; Dionysius
Halicarn. Ant. Rom. ii. 52. 3;
Plutarch, Romulus, 23.
1035. Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom.
iii. 35; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 6. As
to his reported death by lightning, see
above, p. 181.
1036. Plutarch, Numa, 22. I have
pruned the luxuriant periods in which
Plutarch dwells, with edifying unction,
on the righteous visitation of God
which overtook that early agnostic
Tullus Hostilius.
1037. Aurelius Victor, De viris illustribus,
v. 5.
1038. Livy, i. 40; Dionysius Halicarn.
Ant. Rom. iii. 73.
1039. Livy, i. 48; Dionysius Halicarn.
Ant. Rom. iv. 38 sq.; Solinus, i. 25.
The reading Virbium clivum (“the
slope of Virbius”) occurs only in the
more recent manuscripts of Livy: the
better-attested reading both of Livy and
Solinus is Urbium. But the obscure
Virbium would easily and naturally be
altered into Urbium, whereas the reverse
change is very improbable. See
Mr. A. B. Cook, in Classical Review,
xvi. (1902) p. 380, note 3. In
this passage Mr. Cook was the first to
call attention to the analogy between
the murder of the slave-born king,
Servius Tullius, and the slaughter of
the slave-king by his successor at
Nemi. As to the oak-woods of the
Esquiline see above, p. 185.
1040. Nicolaus Damascenus, in Stobaeus,
Florilegium, x. 70. Fragmenta Historicorum
Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iii.
457.
1041. H. Jordan, Die Könige im alten
Italien (Berlin, 1887), pp. 44 sq. In
this his last work Jordan argues that
the Umbrian practice, combined with
the rule of the Arician priesthood,
throws light on the existence and
nature of the kingship among the
ancient Latins. On this subject I am
happy to be at one with so learned
and judicious a scholar.
1042. R. E. Dennett, At the Back of the
Black Man’s Mind (London, 1906),
pp. 11 sq., 111, 131 sq., 135. The
word translated “sacred ground”
(xibila, plural bibila) means properly
“sacred grove.” Such “sacred groves”
are common in this part of Africa, but
in the “sacred grove” of the king of
Loango the tree beside which the
monarch takes post to fight for the
crown appears to stand solitary in a
grassy plain. See R. E. Dennett,
op. cit. pp. 11 sq., 25, 96 sqq., 110
sqq. We have seen that the right of
succession to the throne of Loango
descends in the female line (above,
pp. 276sq.), which furnishes another
point of resemblance between Loango
and Rome, if my theory of the Roman
kingship is correct.
1043. J. G. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy,
ii. 530. My authority is the
Rev. John Roscoe, formerly of the
Church Missionary Society in Uganda.
1044. Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, edited
by Richard, Lord Braybrooke, Second
Edition (London, 1828), i. 193 sq.
(under April 23rd, 1661).
1045. Varro, Rerum rusticarum, ii. 1.
9 sq. “Romanorum vero populum a
pastoribus esse ortum quis non dicit?”
etc. Amongst other arguments in favour
of this view Varro refers to the Roman
personal names derived from cattle,
both large and small, such as Porcius,
“pig-man,” Ovinius, “sheep-man,”
Caprilius, “goat-man,” Equitius,
“horse-man,” Taurius, “bull-man,”
and so forth. On the importance of
cattle and milk among the ancient
Aryans see O. Schrader, Reallexikon
der indogermanischen Altertumskunde
(Strasburg, 1901), pp. 541 sq., 689
sqq., 913 sqq.
1047. As to the foundation of Rome on
this date see Varro, Rerum rusticarum,
ii. 1. 9; Cicero, De divinatione, ii. 47.
98; Festus, s.v. “Parilibus,” p. 236,
ed. C. O. Müller; Pliny, Nat. Hist.
xviii. 247; Propertius, v. 4. 73 sq.;
Ovid, Fasti, iv. 801-806; id., Metam.
xiv. 774 sq.; Velleius Paterculus, i. 8.
4; Eutropius, i. 1; Solinus, i. 18;
Censorinus, De die natali, xxi. 6;
Probus on Virgil, Georg. iii. 1;
Schol. Veronens. on Virgil, l.c.;
Dionysius Halicarnas, Ant. Rom. i.
88; Plutarch, Romulus, 12; Dio
Cassius, xliii. 42; Zonaras, Annales,
vii. 3; Joannes Lydus, De mensibus,
i. 14, iv. 50. As to the birth of
Numa, see Plutarch, Numa, 3. The
festival is variously called Parilia and
Palilia by ancient writers, but the
form Parilia seems to be the better
attested of the two. See G. Wissowa,
s.v. “Pales,” in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon
der griech. und röm. Mythologie, iii.
1278.
1048. Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant.
Rom. i. 88) hesitates between these
two views. With truer historical insight
Plutarch (Romulus, 12) holds that
the rustic festival was older than the
foundation of Rome.
1050. For modern discussions of the
Parilia, see L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
i. 413 sqq.; J. Marquardt,
Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 207
sq.; W. Mannhardt, Antike Wald- und
Feldkulte, pp. 309-317; W. Warde
Fowler, Roman Festivals, pp. 79-85;
G. Wissowa, s.v. “Pales,” in W.
H. Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. u.
röm. Mythologie, iii. 1276-1280; id.,
Religion und Kultus der Römer, pp.
165 sq.
1051. Cicero, De divinatione, ii. 47. 98;
Ovid, Fasti, iv. 806; Calendar of
Philocalus, quoted by W. Warde
Fowler, op. cit. p. 79; Probus on
Virgil, Georg. iii. 1; Plutarch, Romulus,
12; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 3.
1058. Ovid, Fasti, iv. 735-738. In his
account of the festival Ovid mentions
only shepherds and sheep; but since
Pales was a god of cattle as well as of
sheep (Arnobius, Adversus nationes,
iii. 23), we may suppose that herds
and herdsmen equally participated in
it. Dionysius (l.c.) speaks of four-footed
beasts in general.
1059. So Mr. W. Warde Fowler understands
Ovid, Fasti, iv. 735-742.
With this sense of noxa compare id.
vi. 129 sq., where it is said that buckthorn
or hawthorn “tristes pellere
posset a foribus noxas.”
1063. Ovid, Fasti, iv. 763-774. The
prayer that the wolves may be kept
far from the fold is mentioned also by
Tibullus (ii. 5. 88).
1064. Ovid, Fasti, iv. 779-782; Tibullus,
ii. 5. 89 sq.; Propertius, v. 1. 19, v.
4. 77 sq.; Persius, i. 72; Probus on
Virgil, Georg. iii. 1.
1065. I owe this observation to F. A.
Paley, on Ovid, Fasti, iv. 754. He
refers to Virgil, Georg. ii. 435, Ecl.
x. 30; Theocritus, xi. 73 sq.; to
which may be added Virgil, Georg. iii.
300 sq., 320 sq.; Horace, Epist. i.
14. 28; Cato, De re rustica, 30;
Columella, De re rustica, vii. 3. 21, xi.
2. 83 and 99-101. From these passages
of Cato and Columella we
learn that the Italian farmer fed his
cattle on the leaves of the elm, the
ash, the poplar, the oak, the evergreen
oak, the fig, and the laurel.
1068. Columella, De re rustica, vii. 3.
11. In this respect the practice of
ancient Italian farmers would seem to
have differed from that of modern
English breeders. In a letter (dated
8th February 1908) my friend Professor
W. Somerville of Oxford writes:
“It is against all modern custom to
arrange matters so that lambs are born
five months after April 21, say the end
of September.” And, again, in another
letter (dated 16th February 1908) he
writes to me: “The matter of coupling
ewes and rams in the end of April is
very perplexing. In this country it is
only the Dorset breed of sheep that
will ‘take’ the ram at this time of the
year. In the case of other breeds the
ewe will only take the ram in autumn,
say from July to November, so that the
lambs are born from January to May.
We consider that lambs born late in the
season, say May or June, never thrive
well.”
1069. The suggestion was made by C. G.
Heyne in his commentary on Tibullus,
i. 5. 88.
1070. O. Keller, Thiere des classischen
Alterthums (Innsbruck, 1887), pp. 158
sqq.
1074. This is the view of J. Marquardt
(Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 207),
and Mr. W. Warde Fowler (Roman
Festivals, p. 83, note 1).
1075. Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten
abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und
Gewohnheiten, pp. 82-84, 116-118;
F. J. Wiedemann, Aus dem inneren
und äusseren Leben der Ehsten, pp.
332, 356-361; Holzmayer, “Osiliana,”
Verhandlungen der gelehrten
Estnischen Gesellschaft zu Dorpat, vii.
(1872) p. 61.
1078. W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-tales,
pp. 344, 345.
1079. W. R. S. Ralston, Songs of the
Russian People, pp. 229-231. In the
island of Rhodes also it is customary
for people to roll themselves on the
grass for good luck on St. George’s
Day. See Mary Hamilton, Greek
Saints and their Festivals (Edinburgh
and London, 1910), p. 166.
1080. Olga Bartels, “Aus dem Leben
der weissrussischen Landbevölkerung,”
Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xxxv. (1903)
p. 659.
1081. W. R. S. Ralston, op. cit. p. 389.
French peasants of the Vosges Mountains
believe that St. George shuts the
mouths of wild beasts and prevents
them from attacking the flocks which
are placed under his protection (L. F.
Sauvé, Le Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges,
p. 127).
1083. R. F. Kaindl, “Zauberglaube bei den Rutenen in der Bukowina und
Galizien,” Globus, lxi. (1892) p. 280.
1084. R. F. Kaindl, Die Huzulen
(Vienna, 1894), pp. 62 sq., 78, 88 sq.;
id., “Zauberglaube bei den Huzulen,”
Globus, lxxvi. (1899) p. 233.
1085. P. Drechsler, Sitte, Brauch und
Volksglaube in Schlesien, i. (Leipsic,
1903) pp. 106 sq. The authority quoted
for the sacrifice is Tiede, Merkwürdigkeiten
Schlesiens (1804), pp. 123 sq.
It is not expressly said, but we may
assume, that the sacrifice was offered
on St. George’s Day.
1086. A. Birlinger, Aus Schwaben (Wiesbaden,
1874), ii. 166. Compare id.,
Volksthümliches aus Schwaben, ii.
21 n. 1.
1087. E. H. Meyer, Badisches Volksleben
im neunzehnten Jahrhundert
(Strasburg, 1900), pp. 219, 408.
1088. J. Haltrich, Zur Volkskunde der
Siebenbürger Sachsen (Vienna, 1885),
p. 281.
1089. W. Schmidt, Das Jahr und seine
Tage in Meinung und Brauch der
Romänen Siebenbürgens (Hermannstadt,
1866), pp. 9, 11. Compare R. F.
Kaindl, “Zur Volkskunde der Rumänen
in der Bukowina,” Globus, xcii. (1907)
p. 284. It does not appear whether
the shepherd’s pouch (“Hirtentaschen”)
in question is the real pouch
or the plant of that name.
1090. A. und A. Schott, Walachische
Maehrchen (Stuttgart and Tübingen,
1845), pp. 299 sq.
1091. A. Strausz, Die Bulgaren (Leipsic,
1898), p. 287.
1099. W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-tales, p. 345.
1100. Marie Andree-Eysn, Volkskundliches
aus dem bayrisch-österreichischen
Alpengebiet (Brunswick, 1910),
pp. 180-182.
1101. E. H. Meyer, Badisches Volksleben
im neunzehnten Jahrhundert
(Strasburg, 1900), p. 423; K. Freiherr
von Leoprechting, Aus dem Lechrain
(Munich, 1855), p. 168.
1103. A. Strausz, Die Bulgaren, pp.
337, 385 sq. There seems to be a
special connexion between St. George
and serpents. In Bohemia and Moravia
it is thought that up to the twenty-third
of April serpents are innocuous,
and only get their poison on the
saint’s day. See J. V. Grohmann,
Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus
Böhmen und Mähren, §§ 326, 580,
pp. 51, 81; W. Müller, Beiträge zur
Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren,
p. 323. Various other charms are
effected by means of serpents on this
day. Thus if you tear out the tongue
of a live snake on St. George’s Day,
put it in a ball of wax, and lay the
ball under your tongue, you will be
able to talk down anybody. See J.
V. Grohmann, op. cit., §§ 576, 1169,
pp. 81, 166.
1107. Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalender
aus Böhmen, pp. 194 sq.; J. V.
Grohmann, op. cit., § 554, p. 77.
1108. S. J. Curtiss, Primitive Semitic
Religion To-day, pp. 83 sq., 118 sq.
1109. S. Baring-Gould, Curious Myths
of the Middle Ages, pp. 278 sqq. The
authority for this identification is the
nominal translator, but real author, of
the work called The Agriculture of the
Nabataeans. See D. A. Chwolson,
Über Tammuz und die Menschenverehrung
bei den alten Babyloniern (St.
Petersburg, 1860), pp. 56 sq. Although
The Agriculture of the Nabataeans
appears to be a forgery (see above, p.
100, note 2), the identification of the
oriental St. George with Tammuz may
nevertheless be correct.
1110. J. Maeletius (Menecius), “De
sacrificiis et idolatria veterum Borussorum
Livonum aliarumque vicinarum
gentium,” Mitteilungen der Litterarischen
Gesellschaft Masovia, Heft 8
(Lötzen, 1902), pp. 185, 187, 200 sq.;
id. in Scriptores rerum Livonicarum,
ii. (Riga and Leipsic, 1848), pp. 389,
390; J. Lasicius, “De diis Samagitarum
caeterorumque Sarmatarum,” ed.
W. Mannhardt, in Magazin herausgegeben
von der Lettisch-literärischen
Gesellschaft, xiv. (1868) pp. 95 sq.
The first form of the prayer to Pergrubius
is from the Latin, the second
from the German, version of Maeletius’s
(Jan Malecki’s) work. The description
of Pergrubius as “he who makes
leaves and grass to grow” (“der lest
wachssen laub unnd gras”) is also from
the German. According to M. Praetorius,
Pergrubius was a god of husbandry
(Deliciae Prussicae, Berlin,
1871, p. 25).
1112. J. Geikie, Prehistoric Europe
(Edinburgh, 1881), pp. 420 sq., 482
sqq., 495.
1113. R. Munro, Ancient Scottish Lake
Dwellings or Crannogs (Edinburgh,
1882), p. 266, quoting Alton’s Treatise
on the Origin, Qualities, and Cultivation
of Moss Earth.
1116. A. von Humboldt, Kosmos, i.
(Stuttgart and Tübingen, 1845) p.
298. The passage is mistranslated
in the English version edited by E.
Sabine.
1117. Sir Charles Lyell, The Geological
Evidence of the Antiquity of Man 4th ed.,
(London, 1873), pp. 8, 17, 415 sq.;
Sir John Lubbock (Lord Avebury),
Prehistoric Times 5th Ed., (London, 1890),
pp. 251, 387; J. Geikie, op. cit. pp.
485-487.
1120. R. Munro, Ancient Scottish Lake
Dwellings, p. 20, quoting the article
“Crannoges” in Chambers’s Encyclopædia.
1121. R. Munro, op. cit. p. 23. For
more evidence of the use of oak in
British crannogs, see id., op. cit. pp.
6-8, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33 sq.,
37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 51 sq., 53, 61, 62,
97, 122, 208, 262, 291-299; id.The
Lake Dwellings of Europe (London,
Paris, and Melbourne, 1890), pp. 350,
364, 372, 377.
1122. F. Keller, The Lake Dwellings of
Switzerland and other Parts of Europe 2nd Ed.,
(London, 1878), i. 37, 48, 65, 87,
93, 105, 110, 129, 156, 186, 194,
201, 214, 264, 268, 289, 300, 320,
375, 382, 434, 438, 440, 444, 446,
465, 639.
1124. W. Helbig, Die Italiker in der
Poebene (Leipsic, 1879), pp. 12, 16 sq.,
26. The bones of cattle, pigs, goats,
and sheep prove that these animals
were bred by the people of the Italian
pile villages. See W. Helbig, op. cit.
p. 14.
1127. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 6 “Hercyniae
silvae roborum vastitas ... glandiferi
maxime generis omnes, quibus
honos apud Romanos perpetuus.”
1128. H. Hirt, “Die Urheimat der
Indogermanen,” Indogermanische Forschungen,
i. (1892), p. 480; P. Kretschmer,
Einleitung in die Geschichte der
griechischen Sprache (Göttingen, 1896),
p. 81; O. Schrader, Reallexikon der
Indogermanischen Altertumskunde, s.v.
“Eiche,” p. 164. This etymology
assumes that Hercynia represents an
original Perkunia, and is connected
with the Latin quercus. However, the
derivation is not undisputed. See O.
Schrader, op. cit. pp. 1015 sq.
1129. Polybius, ii. 15. Compare Strabo,
v. 1. 12, p. 218.
1133. Pausanias, viii. 23. 8 sq. For
notices of forests and groves of oak in
Arcadia and other parts of Greece, see
id. ii. 11. 4, iii. 10. 6, vii. 26. 10,
viii. 11. 1, viii. 25. 1, viii. 42. 12,
viii. 54. 5, ix. 3. 4, ix. 24. 5. The
oaks in the Arcadian forests were of
various species (id. viii. 12. 1).
1134. C. Neumann und J. Partsch, Physikalische
Geographie von Griechenland
(Breslau, 1885), p. 378.
1135. Encyclopædia Britannica, 9th Ed., xvii.
690.
1136. Virgil, Georg., i. 7 sq., 147-149;
Lucretius, v. 939 sq., 965; Tibullus,
ii. 1. 37 sq., ii. 3. 69; Ovid, Metam.
i. 106; id., Fasti, i. 675 sq., iv. 399-402;
Juvenal, xiv. 182-184; Aulus
Gellius, v. 6. 12; Dionysius Halicarnas.
Ars rhetorica, i. 6, vol. v.
p. 230, ed. Reiske; Pollux, i. 234;
Poryphry, De abstinentia, ii. 5.
1143. C. Neumann und J. Partsch, Physikalische
Geographie von Griechenland,
p. 379.
1144. C. Neumann and J. Partsch, op.
cit., p. 382, note.
1145. Cervantes, Don Quixote, part ii.
ch. 50, vol. iv. p. 133 of H. E.
Watts’s translation, with the translator’s
note (new edition, London,
1895); Neumann und Partsch, op. cit.
p. 380; P. Wagler, Die Eiche in alter
und neuer Zeit, i. (Wurzen, 1891) p. 35.
The passage in Don Quixote was
pointed out to me by my friend Mr. W.
Wyse.
1146. Encyclopædia Britannica, 9th. Ed., xvii.
692.
1149. To avoid misapprehension, I desire
to point out that I am not here concerned
with the evolution of Aryan
religion in general, but only with that
of a small, though important part of it,
to wit, the worship of a particular
kind of tree. To write a general
history of Aryan religion in all its
many aspects as a worship of nature,
of the dead, and so forth, would be a
task equally beyond my powers and
my ambition. Still less should I
dream of writing a universal history of
religion. The “general work” referred
to in the preface to the first edition of
The Golden Bough is a book of far
humbler scope.
1150. For examples of such ceremonies, see above, pp. 18-20, 34-38.
1151. For evidence of these aspects of
Zeus and Jupiter, see L. Preller, Griechische
Mythologie, i. 4th ed., 115 sqq.; id.,
Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 184 sqq. In
former editions of this book I was disposed
to set aside much too summarily
what may be called the meteorological
side of Zeus and Jupiter.
1152. See my note on Pausanias, ii. 17.
5; P. Wagler, Die Eiche in alter und
neuer Zeit, ii. (Berlin, 1891), pp. 2 sqq.;
A. B. Cook, “Zeus, Jupiter, and the
Oak,” Classical Review, xvii. (1903)
pp. 178 sqq.
1153. Aug. Mommsen, Delphika (Leipsic,
1878), pp. 4 sq.
1154. Strabo, Frag. vii. 3; Stephanus
Byzantius, s.v. Δωδώνη; Suidas, s.vv.
Δωδωναῖον χαλκεῖον and Δωδώνη;
Apostolius, Cent. vi. 43; Zenobius,
Cent. vi. 5; Nonnus Abbas, Ad S.
Gregorii orat. ii. contra Julianum, 19
(Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, xxxvi.
1045). The evidence on this subject
has been collected and discussed by
Mr. A. B. Cook (“The Gong at
Dodona,” Journal of Hellenic Studies,
xxii. (1902) pp. 5-28). The theory
in the text is obviously consistent, both
with the statement that the sound of
the gongs was consulted as oracular,
and with the view, advocated by Mr.
Cook, that it was supposed to avert
evil influences from the sanctuary. If
I am right, the bronze statuette which,
according to some accounts, produced
the sound by striking the gong with a
clapper would represent Zeus himself
making his thunder.
1155. On the natural surroundings of
Dodona, see C. Carapanos, Dodone et
ses ruines (Paris, 1878), pp. 7-10.
1157. Above, vol. i. p. 309. On the oak
as the tree of Zeus, see Dionysius
Halicarn. Ars rhetorica, i. 6, vol. v.
p. 230 ed. Reiske; Schol. on Aristophanes,
Birds, 480. On this subject
much evidence, both literary and monumental,
has been collected by Mr.
A. B. Cook in his articles “Zeus,
Jupiter, and the Oak,” Classical Review,
xvii. (1903) pp. 174 sqq., 268
sqq., 403 sqq., xviii. (1904) pp. 75
sqq., 327 sq.
1162. Pausanias, ii. 29. 7 sq.; Isocrates,
Evagoras, 14; Apollodorus, iii. 12. 6.
Aeacus was said to be the son of Zeus
by Aegina, daughter of Asopus (Apollodorus, l.c.). Isocrates says that his
relationship to the god marked Aeacus
out as the man to procure rain.
1163. Theophrastus, De signis tempestatum,
i. 20, compare 24.
1168. Pausanias, ii. 25. 10. As to the
climate and scenery of these barren
mountains, see A. Philippson, Der
Peloponnes (Berlin, 1891), pp. 43 sq.,
65.
1170. Paton and Hicks, The Inscriptions
of Cos (Oxford, 1891), No. 382;
Dittenberger, Sylloge Inscriptionum
Graecarum, 2nd Ed., No. 735. There were
altars of Rainy Zeus also at Argos and
Lebadea. See Pausanias, ii. 19. 8,
ix. 39. 4.
1171. Ἐπικάρπιος μὲν ἀπὸ τῶν καρπῶν,
Aristotle, De mundo, 7, p. 401 a, ed.
Bekker; Plutarch, De Stoicorum repugnantiis,
xxx. 8.
1172. Corpus Inscriptionum Atticarum,
iii. No. 77; E. S. Roberts, Introduction
to Greek Epigraphy, ii. No. 142,
p. 387; Ch. Michel, Recueil d’inscriptions
grecques, No. 692; L. R.
Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, i.
66 and 172.
1173. Hesiod, Theogony, 71 sq.; L.
Preller, Griechische Mythologie, 4th ed., i. 119.
1174. Pausanias, v. 14. 7; H. Roehl,
Inscriptiones Graecae antiquissimae
(Berlin, 1882), No. 101; Fränkel,
Inschriften von Pergamon, i. No. 232;
Joannes Malalas, Chronographia, viii.
p. 199, ed. L. Dindorf.
1180. For more evidence that the old
Greek kings regularly personified Zeus,
see Mr. A. B. Cook, “The European
Sky-god,” Folk-lore, xv. (1904) pp. 299
sqq.
1181. Virgil. Georg. iii. 332, with Servius’s
note; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xii. 3.
1182. As to the oak of Jupiter on the
Capitol and the god’s oak crown, see
above, p. 176. With regard to the
Capitoline worship of Thundering
Jupiter, see Pliny, Nat. Hist. ii. 21,
xxxiv. 10 and 79, xxxvi. 50. He was
worshipped in many places besides
Rome as the god of thunder and lightning.
See Festus, p. 229, ed. C. O.
Müller; Apuleius, De mundo, xxxvii.
371; H. Dessau, Inscriptones Latinae
selectae, Nos. 3044-3053.
1183. Petronius, Sat. 44. That the
slope mentioned by Petronius was the
Capitoline one is made highly probable
by a passage of Tertullian (Apologeticus
40: “Aquilicia Jovi immolatis, nudipedalia
populo denuntiatis, coelum apud
Capitolium quaeritis, nubila de laquearibus
exspectatis”). The church father’s
scorn for the ceremony contrasts with
the respect, perhaps the mock respect,
testified for it by the man in Petronius.
The epithets Rainy and Showery are
occasionally applied to Jupiter. See
Tibullus, i. 7. 26; Apuleius, De mundo,
xxxvii. 371; H. Dessau, Inscriptiones
Latinae selectae, No. 3043.
1184. H. Dessau, op. cit. No. 3042;
Apuleius, l.c.
1185. Apuleius, l.c., “Plures eum Frugiferum
vocant”; H. Dessau, op. cit.
No. 3017.
1186. On this subject see H. Munro
Chadwick, “The Oak and the Thunder-god,”
Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxx. (1900) pp. 22-42.
1188. Maximus Tyrius, Dissert. viii.
8. H. D’Arbois de Jubainville supposed
that by Celts the writer here
meant Germans (Cours de la littérature
celtique, i. 121 sqq.). This was not
the view of J. Grimm, to whose
authority D’Arbois de Jubainville
appealed. Grimm says that what Maximus
Tyrius affirms of the Celts might
be applied to the Germans (Deutsche
Mythologie, 4th ed., i. 55), which is quite a
different thing.
1189. Strabo, xii. 5. 1, p. 567. As to
the meaning of the name see (Sir) J.
Rhys, Celtic Heathendom, p. 221; H. F.
Tozer, Selections from Strabo, p. 284.
On the Galatian language see above,
p. 126, note 2.
1190. G. Curtius, Griech. Etymologie, 5th Ed.,
pp. 238 sq.; J. Rhys, op. cit. pp. 221
sq.; P. Kretschmer, Einleitung in die
Geschichte der griech. Sprache, p. 81.
Compare A. Vanicek, Griechisch-lateinisch.
etymologisches Wörterbuch,
pp. 368-370. Oak in old Irish is
daur, in modern Irish dair, darach, in
Gaelic darach. See G. Curtius, l.c.;
A. Macbain, Etymological Dictionary
of the Gaelic Language (Inverness,
1896), s.v. “Darach.” On this view
Pliny was substantially right (Nat.
Hist. xvi. 249) in connecting Druid
with the Greek drus, “oak,” though
the name was not derived from the
Greek. However, this derivation of
Druid has been doubted or rejected by
some scholars. See H. D’Arbois de
Jubainville, Cours de la littérature
celtique, i. (Paris, 1883), pp. 117 sqq.;
O. Schrader, Reallexikon der indogermanischen
Altertumskunde, pp. 638
sq.
1192. The Gael’s “faith in druidism
was never suddenly undermined; for
in the saints he only saw more powerful
druids than those he had previously
known, and Christ took the position
in his eyes of the druid κατ’ ἐξοχήν.
Irish druidism absorbed a certain
amount of Christianity; and it would
be a problem of considerable difficulty
to fix on the point where it ceased to
be druidism, and from which onwards
it could be said to be Christianity in
any restricted sense of that term” (J.
Rhys, Celtic Heathendom, p. 224).
1193. P. W. Joyce, Social History of
Ancient Ireland, i. 236.
1194. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 55 sq. Tacitus often mentions the
sacred groves of the Germans, but never
specifies the kinds of trees of which
they were composed. See Annals, ii.
12, iv. 73; Histor. iv. 14; Germania,
7, 9, 39, 40, 43.
1196. Willibald’s Life of S. Boniface, in
Pertz’s Monumenta Germaniae historica,
ii. 343 sq.; J. Grimm, op. cit.
i. pp. 58, 142.
1197. J. Grimm, op. cit. i. 157. Prof. E.
Maass supposes that the identification
of Donar or Thunar with Jupiter was
first made in Upper Germany between
the Vosges mountains and the Black
Forest. See his work Die Tagesgötter
(Berlin, 1902), p. 280.
1198. Adam of Bremen, Descriptio insularum
Aquilonis, 26 (Migne’s Patrologia
Latina, cxlvi. col. 643).
1200. E. H. Meyer, Mythologie des
Germanen (Strasburg, 1903), p. 290.
1201. Adam of Bremen, op. cit. 26, 27,
with the Scholia (Migne’s Patrologia
Latina, cxlvi. coll. 642-644).
1202. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 142 sq.; L. Leger, La Mythologie
slave (Paris, 1901), pp. 54-76.
1203. L. Leger, op. cit. pp. 57 sq., translating
Guagnini’s Sarmatiae Europaeae
descriptio (1578). The passage is quoted
in the original by Chr. Hartknoch
(Alt- und neues Preussen, Frankfort
and Leipsic, 1684, p. 132), who
rightly assigns the work to Strykowski,
not Guagnini. See W. Mannhardt, in
Magazin herausgegeben von der Lettisch-Literarischen
Gesellschaft, xiv. (1868)
pp. 105 sq.
1204. Procopius, De bello Gothico, iii. 14
(vol. ii. p. 357, ed. J. Haury).
1205. Matthias Michov, “De Sarmatia
Asiana atque Europea,” in Simon
Grynaeus’s Novus Orbis regionum ac
insularum veteribus incognitarum
(Paris, 1532), p. 457; id., in J. Pistorius’s
Polonicae historiae corpus
(Bâle, 1582), i. 144; Martin Cromer,
De origine et rebus gestis Polonorum
(Bâle, 1568), p. 241; J. Maeletius
(Menecius, Ian Malecki), “De sacrificiis
et idolatria veterum Borussorum,
Livonum, aliarumque vicinarum
gentium,” Scriptores rerum Livonicarum,
ii. (Riga and Leipsic, 1848)
p. 390; id., in Mitteilungen der Litterarischen
Gesellschaft Masovia, Heft 8
(Lötzen, 1902), p. 187; Chr. Hartknoch,
Alt- und neues Preussen (Frankfort and
Leipsic, 1684), pp. 131 sqq.; S. Rostowski,
quoted by A. Brückner, Archiv
für slavische Philologie, ix. (1886)
pp. 32, 35; M. Töppen, Geschichte der
preussischen Historiographie (Berlin,
1853), p. 190 (“Perkunos ist in allen
andern Ueberlieferungen so gross und
hehr, wie nur immer der griechische
und römische Donnergott, und kein
anderer der Götter darf sich ihm gleich
stellen. Er ist der Hauptgott, wie
nach andern Berichten in Preussen, so
auch in Litthauen und Livland”);
Schleicher, “Lituanica,” Sitzungsberichte
der philosoph.-histor. Classe d.
kais. Akademie d. Wissen. (Vienna),
xi. (1853 pub. 1854) p. 96; H.
Usener, Götternamen (Bonn, 1896),
p. 97.
1206. M. Praetorius, Deliciae Prussicae
(Berlin, 1871), pp. 19 sq.; S. Rostowski,
op. cit. pp. 34, 35. On the
sacred oaks of the Lithuanians see
Chr. Hartknoch, op. cit. pp. 117 sqq.;
Tettau und Temme, Volkssagen Ostpreussens,
Litthauens und Westpreussens,
pp. 19-22, 35-38.
1207. M. Praetorius, l.c.; S. Grunau,
Preussische Chronik, ed. M. Perlbach,
i. (Leipsic, 1876) p. 78 (ii. tract.
cap. v. § 2). The chronicler, Simon
Grunau, lived as an itinerant Dominican
friar at the beginning of the sixteenth
century in the part of Prussia which
had been ceded to Poland. He brought
his history, composed in somewhat
rustic German, down to 1529. His
familiar intercourse with the lowest
classes of the people enabled him to
learn much as to their old heathen
customs and superstitions; but his good
faith has been doubted or denied. In
particular, his description of the images
of the three gods in the great oak at
Romove has been regarded with suspicion
or denounced as a figment. See
Chr. Hartknoch, op. cit. pp. 127 sqq.;
M. Toeppen, op. cit. pp. 122 sqq., 190
sqq.; M. Perlbach’s preface to his
edition of Grunau; H. Usener, Götternamen,
p. 83. But his account of the
sanctity of the oak, and of the perpetual
sacred fire of oak-wood, may be
accepted, since it is confirmed by other
authorities. Thus, according to Malecki,
a perpetual fire was kept up by a priest
in honour of Perkunas (Pargnus) on
the top of a mountain, which stood
beside the river Neuuassa (Niewiaza, a
tributary of the Niemen). See Malecki
(Maeletius, Menecius), op. cit., Scriptores
rerum Livonicarum, ii. 391; id.,
Mitteilungen der Litterarischen Gesellschaft
Masovia, Heft 8 (Lötzen, 1902),
p. 187. Again, the Jesuit S. Rostowski
says that the Lithuanians maintained
a perpetual sacred fire in honour
of Perkunas in the woods (quoted by
A. Brückner, Archiv für slavische
Philologie, ix. (1886) p. 33). Malecki
and Rostowski do not mention that the
fire was kindled with oak-wood, but
this is expressly stated by M. Praetorius,
and is, besides, intrinsically probable,
since the oak was sacred to
Perkunas. Moreover, the early historian,
Peter of Dusburg, who dedicated
his chronicle of Prussia to the Grand
Master of the Teutonic Knights in
1326, informs us that the high-priest
of the nation, whom the Prussians
revered as a pope, kept up a perpetual
fire at Romow, which is doubtless the
same with the Romowo or Romewo of
Grunau (Preussische Chronik, pp. 80,
81, compare p. 62, ed. M. Perlbach).
See P. de Dusburg, Chronicon Prussiae,
ed. Chr. Hartknoch (Frankfort
and Leipsic, 1679), p. 79. Martin
Cromer says that the Lithuanians
“worshipped fire as a god, and kept it
perpetually burning in the more frequented
places and towns” (De origine
et rebus gestis Polonorum, Bâle, 1568,
p. 241). Romow or Romowo is more
commonly known as Romove. Its site
is very uncertain. See Chr. Hartknoch,
Alt- und neues Preussen, pp.
122 sqq. Grunau’s account of Romove
and its sacred oak, with the images of
the three gods in it and the fire of oak-wood
burning before it, is substantially
repeated by Alex. Guagnini. See J.
Pistorius, Polonicae historiae corpus
(Bâle, 1582), i. 52; Respublica sive
status regni Poloniae, Lituaniae,
Prussiae, Livoniae, etc. (Leyden, 1627),
pp. 321 sq. I do not know whether
the chronicler, Simon Grunau, is the
same with Simon Grynaeus, editor of
the Novus Orbis regionum ac insularum
veteribus incognitarum, which was
published at Paris in 1532.
1209. D. Fabricius, “De cultu, religione
et moribus incolarum Livoniae,” Scriptores
rerum Livonicarum, ii. 441.
Malecki (Maeletius) also says that
Perkunas was prayed to for rain. See
Mitteilungen der Litterarischen Gesellschaft
Masovia, Heft 8 (Lötzen, 1902),
p. 201.
1210. According to Prof. H. Hirt,
the name Perkunas means “the oak-god,”
being derived from the same root
querq, which appears in the Latin
quercus “oak,” the Hercynian forest,
the Norse god and goddess Fjörygn,
and the Indian Parjanya, the Vedic
god of thunder and rain. See H.
Hirt, “Die Urheimat der Indogermanen,”
Indogermanische Forschungen,
i. (1892) pp. 479 sqq.; id.,
Die Indogermanen (Strasburg, 1905-1907),
ii. 507; P. Kretschmer,
Einleitung in die Geschichte der
griechischen Sprache, pp. 81 sq. The
identity of the names Perkunas and
Parjanya had been maintained long
before by G. Bühler, though he did
not connect the words with quercus.
See his article, “On the Hindu god
Parjanya,” Transactions of the (London)
Philological Society, 1859, pp.
154-168. As to Parjanya, see below,
pp. 368sq.
1211. Fr. Kreutzwald und H. Neus,
Mythische und magische Lieder der
Ehsten (St. Petersburg, 1854), pp. 16,
26, 27, 56, 57, 104; F. J. Wiedemann,
Aus dem inneren und äusseren
Leben der Ehsten, pp. 427, 438.
Sometimes, however, a special thunder-god
Kou, Koo, Piker or Pikne is distinguished
from Taara (Tar). See F. J.
Wiedemann, op. cit. p. 427; Kreutzwald
und Neus, op. cit. pp. 12 sq.
1212. Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten
abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und
Gewohnheiten (St. Petersburg, 1854),
p. 2.
1213. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 146.
1216. Rigveda, Book v. Hymn 83, R. T.
H. Griffith’s translation (Benares, 1889-1892),
vol. ii. pp. 299 sq.
1217. Rigveda, Book vii. Hymn 101,
Griffith’s translation (vol. iii. pp. 123
sq.).
1218. Rigveda, Book vii. Hymn 102,
Griffith’s translation (vol. iii. p. 124).
On Parjanya see further G. Bühler,
“On the Hindu god Parjanya,”
Transactions of the (London) Philological
Society, 1859, pp. 154-168; id.
in Orient und Occident, i. (1862) pp.
214-229; J. Muir, Original Sanscrit
Texts, v. 140-142; H. Oldenberg,
Die Religion des Veda, p. 226; A.
Macdonnell, Vedic Mythology, pp.
83-85.
1220. L. H. Morgan, League of the
Iroquois (Rochester, 1851), pp. 157
sq.
1221. J. Spieth, Die Ewe-Stämme (Berlin,
1906), pp. 424-427.
1222. E. J. Payne, History of the New
World called America, i. (Oxford,
1892) pp. 407 sq.
1223. N. Seidlitz, “Die Abchasen,”
Globus, lxvi. (1894) p. 73.
1224. P. Wagler, Die Eiche in alter
und neuer Zeit, ii. (Berlin, 1891) p. 37.
1225. J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 59.
1226. P. Wagler, Die Eiche in alter und
neuer Zeit, i. (Wurzen, 1891) pp. 21-23.
For many more survivals of oak-worship
in Germany see P. Wagler,
op. cit. ii. 40 sqq.
1227. M. Praetorius, Deliciae Prussicae
(Berlin, 1871), p. 16.
1228. J. G. Kohl, Die deutsch-russischen
Ostseeprovinzen (Dresden and Leipsic,
1841), ii. 31; compare 33.
1229. Schleicher, “Lituanica,” Sitzungsberichte
der philos.-histor. Classe der
kais. Akademie der Wissenschaften, xi.
(1853, pub. 1854) p. 100.
1230. James Piggul, steward of the estate
of Panikovitz, in a report to Baron
de Bogouschefsky, Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, iii. (1874) pp.
274 sq.
1231. The evidence will be given later
on, when we come to deal with the
fire-festivals of Europe. Meantime I
may refer the reader to The Golden
Bough, Second Edition, iii. 347 sqq.,
where, however, the statement as to
the universal use of oak-wood in kindling
the need-fire is too absolute,
exceptions having since come to my
knowledge. These will be noticed in
the third edition of that part of The
Golden Bough.
1233. The only positive evidence, so far
as I know, that the Celtic oak-god was
also a deity of thunder and rain is his
identification with Zeus (see above,
p. 362). But the analogy of the
Greeks, Italians, Teutons, Slavs, and
Lithuanians may be allowed to supply
the lack of more definite testimony.
1234. It is said to have been observed
that lightning strikes an oak twenty
times for once that it strikes a beech
(J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed., iii.
64). But even if this observation were
correct, we could not estimate its
worth unless we knew the comparative
frequency of oaks and beeches
in the country where it was made.
The Greeks observed that a certain
species of oak, which they called
haliphloios, or sea-bark, was often
struck by lightning though it did not
grow to a great height; but far from
regarding it as thereby marked out for
the service of the god they abstained
from using its wood in the sacrificial
rites. See Theophrastus, Histor.
plant. iii. 8. 5; Pliny, Nat. Hist.
xvi. 24.
1235. M. Abeghian, Der armenische
Volksglaube, p. 90.
1236. E. B. Tylor, Early History of
Mankind, 3rd Ed., pp. 223-227. For more
evidence of this wide-spread belief
see M. Baudrouin et L. Bonnemère,
“Les Haches polies dans l’histoire
jusqu’au XIXe siècle,” Bulletins et
Mémoires de la Société d’Anthropologie
de Paris, Ve Série, v. (1904) pp.
496-548; Lieut. Boyd Alexander,
“From the Niger, by Lake Chad, to
the Nile,” The Geographical Journal,
xxx. (1907) pp. 144 sq.; A. B. Ellis,
Ewe-speaking Peoples of the Slave
Coast, pp. 37 sq.; H. Seidel, “Der
Yew’e Dienst im Togolande,” Zeitschrift
für afrikanische und oceanischen
Sprachen, iii. (1897) p. 161;
H. Klose, Togo unter deutscher
Flagge, pp. 197 sq.; L. Conradt,
“Die Ngumbu in Südkamerun,”
Globus, lxxxi. (1902) p. 353; Guerlach,
“Mœurs et superstitions des
sauvages Ba-hnars,” Missions Catholiques,
xix. (1887) pp. 442, 454; J.
A. Jacobsen, Reisen in die Inselwelt
des Banda-Meeres (Berlin, 1896), pp.
49 sq., 232; C. Ribbe, “Die Aru-Inseln,”
Festschrift des Vereins für
Erdkunde zu Dresden (Dresden, 1888),
p. 165; E. Thurston, Ethnographic
Notes in Southern India, p. 351; Rev.
P. O. Bodding, “Ancient Stone Implements
in the Santal Parganas,”
Journal of the Asiatic Society of
Bengal, lxx. Part iii. (1901) pp. 17-20;
E. M. Gordon, Indian Folk-tales
(London, 1908), p. 75; County
Folk-lore, III. Orkney and Shetland
Islands, collected by G. F. Black
(London, 1903), p. 153; P. Hermann,
Nordische Mythologie, pp. 339 sq.,
352; M. Toeppen, Aberglauben aus
Masuren 2nd Ed., (Danzig, 1867), pp. 42 sq.
Dr. E. B. Tylor has pointed out how
natural to the primitive mind is the
association of spark-producing stones
with lightning (Primitive Culture, 2nd Ed., ii.
262).
1237. L. Preller, Griechische Mythologie, 4th ed.,
i. 116 sq.; id., Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed.,
i. 184 sqq. As to Jupiter see in
particular Augustine, De civitate Dei,
vii. 19, “Coelum enim esse Jovem
innumerabiliter et diligenter affirmant”;
and Ennius, quoted by
Cicero, De natura deorum, ii. 25,
65, “Aspice hoc sublimen candens, quem
invocant omnes Jovem.”
1238. Above, vol. i. pp. 6 sq., 12;
vol. ii. pp. 124sq., 128sq., 171sqq.
1246. This suggestion is due to Mr. A. B.
Cook. See his articles, “Zeus, Jupiter,
and the Oak,” Classical Review, xviii.
(1904) pp. 363 sq.; and “The European
Sky-God,” Folk-lore, xvi. (1905)
pp. 277 sq. On the other hand see
above, pp. 1sq.
1247. Virbius may perhaps be etymologically
connected with viridis, “green,”
and verbena, “a sacred bough.” If
this were so, Virbius would be “the
Green One.” We are reminded of
those popular personifications of the
spring, Green George and Jack in the
Green. See above, pp. 75sq., 82sq.
As to the proposed derivation from a
root meaning “green” Professor R. S.
Conway writes to me (10th January
1903): “From this meaning of the
root a derivative in -bus would not
strike me as so strange; vir-bho might
conceivably mean ‘growing green.’”
In my Lectures on the Early History
of the Kingship (pp. 282 sq.) I followed
Mr. A. B. Cook in interpreting a
passage of Plautus (Casina, ii. 5. 23-29)
as a reference to the priests of
Nemi in the character of mortal
Jupiters. But a simpler and more
probable explanation of the passage
has been given by Dr. L. R. Farnell.
See A. B. Cook, “The European Sky-god,”
Folk-lore, xvi. (1905) pp. 322
sqq.; L. R. Farnell, in The Hibbert
Journal, iv. (1906) p. 932.
1248. See above, vol. i. p. 13, vol. ii.
pp. 378sq.
1250. Horace, Odes, i. 21. 5 sq., iii. 23.
9 sq., iv. 4. 5 sq., Carmen Saeculare,
69; Livy, iii. 25. 6-8; E. H. Bunbury,
in Smith’s Dictionary of Greek
and Roman Geography, s.v. “Algidus.”
1251. Festus, s.v. “Tifata,” p. 366, ed.
C. O. Müller; Velleius Paterculus, ii.
25. 4; E. H. Bunbury, op. cit.s.v.
“Tifata.” For more evidence of the
association of Diana with the oak, see
Mr. A. B. Cook, “Zeus, Jupiter, and
the Oak,” Classical Review, xviii.
(1904) pp. 369 sq.
1252. Above, vol. i. pp. 17 sq., vol. ii
pp. 172sq.
1253. The original root appears plainly
in Diovis and Diespiter, the older
forms of Jupiter (Varro, De lingua
Latina, v. 66; Aulus Gellius, v. 12).
The form Dianus is attested by an
inscription found at Aquileia (Corpus
Inscriptionum Latinarum, v. 783),
and the form Jana by Varro (Rerum
rusticarum, i. 37. 3) and Macrobius
(Saturn. i. 9. 8). In Zeus, Dione,
Jupiter, and Juno the old root DI
appears in the expanded form DIV.
As to the etymology of these names,
see Ch. Ploix, “Les Dieux qui proviennent
de la racine DIV,” Mémoires
de la Société de Linguistique de Paris,
i. (1868) pp. 213-222; G. Curtius,
Grundzüge der griechischen Etymologie, 5th Ed.,
pp. 236 sq., 616 sq.; A.
Vanicek, Griechisch-lateinisches etymologisches
Wörterbuch, i. 353 sqq.;
W. H. Roscher, Lexikon der griech.
u. röm. Mythologie, ii. 45 sq., 578
sq., 619; S. Linde, De Jano summo
Romanorumdeo (Lund, 1891), pp. 7 sq.;
J. S. Speijer, “Le Dieu romain Janus,”
Revue de l’Histoire des Religions, xxvi.
(1892) pp. 37-41; H. Usener, Götternamen,
pp. 16, 35 sq., 326; P.
Kretschmer, Einleitung in die Geschichte
der griechischen Sprache, pp. 78
sqq., 91, 161 sq. Messrs. Speijer and
Kretschmer reject the derivation of
Janus from the root DI.
1254. As to Juno in these aspects, see L.
Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 271
sqq.; G. Wissowa, Religion und Kultus
der Römer, pp. 117 sqq.; W. H.
Roscher, Lexikon der griech. u. röm.
Mythologie, ii. 578 sqq. As to Diana,
see above, vol. i. p. 12, vol. ii. pp.
124, 128sq.
1255. Ovid, Fasti, i. 89 sqq.; Macrobius,
Sat. i. 9; Servius, on Virgil, Aen.
vii. 610; Joannes Lydus, De mensibus,
iv. 1 sq.
1256. Varro, quoted by Augustine, De
civitate Dei, vii. 28; Joannes Lydus,
De mensibus, iv. 2. Compare Macrobius,
Sat. i. 9. 11. See R. Agahd,
M. Terentii Varronis rerum divinarum
libri I. XIV. XV. XVI. (Leipsic,
1898) pp. 117 sqq., 203 sq.
1257. Macrobius, Sat. i. 9. 15, i. 15.
19; Servius, on Virgil, Aen. vii. 610;
Joannes Lydus, De mensibus, iv. 1.
Prof. G. Wissowa thinks that sacrifices
were offered to Janus as well as to Juno
on the first of every month (Religion
und Kultus der Römer, pp. 91 sq.);
but this view does not seem to me to
be supported by the evidence of Macrobius
(Sat. i. 9. 16, i. 15. 18 sq.), to
which he refers. Macrobius does not
say that the first of every month was
sacred to Janus.
1259. Virgil, Aen. xii. 138 sqq.; Ovid,
Fasti, ii. 585 sqq.
1260. Cato, De agri cultura, 134; Virgil,
Aen. viii. 357; Horace, Epist. i. 16.
59, compare Sat. ii. 6. 20; Pliny,
Nat. Hist. xxxvi. 28; Juvenal, vi.
394; Martial, x. 28. 6 sq.; Aulus
Gellius, v. 12. 5; Arnobius, Adversus
nationes, iii. 29; H. Dessau, Inscriptiones
Latinae selectae, Nos. 3320,
3322, 3323, 3324, 3325, 5047; G.
Henzen, Acta fratrum Arvalium, p.
144; Athenaeus, xv. 46, p. 692 D, E.
1263. Macrobius, Sat. i. 7. 19; Servius,
on Virgil, Aen. viii. 319 and 357;
Arnobius, Adversus nationes, iii. 29;
Athenaeus, xv. 46, p. 692 D. As to
the oak-woods of the Janiculum, see
above, p. 186.
1264. As dialectal differences in the
ancient Italian languages seem to have
created a multiplicity of deities, so
in the Malay language they appear to
have created a multiplicity of fabulous
animals. See R. J. Wilkinson, Malay
Beliefs (London and Leyden, 1906),
p. 56: “The wealth of Malay nomenclature
in the province of natural history
is in itself a fruitful source of
error. The identity of different dialectic
names for the same animal is
not always recognized: the local name
is taken to represent the real animal, the
foreign name is assumed to represent a
rare or fabulous variety of the same
genus.” In these cases mythology might
fairly enough be described as a disease of
language. But such cases cover only
a small part of the vast mythical field.
1265. Mr. A. B. Cook, who accepts in
substance my theory of the original
identity of Jupiter and Janus, Juno
and Diana, has suggested that Janus
and Diana were the deities of the
aborigines of Rome, Jupiter and Juno
the deities of their conquerors. See his
article, “Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak,”
Classical Review, xviii. (1904) pp. 367 sq.
1266. This is the opinion of Dr. W. H.
Roscher (Lexikon der griech. u. röm.
Mythologie, ii. 47), Mr. W. Warde
Fowler (Roman Festivals of the Period
of the Republic, pp. 282 sqq.), and Prof.
G. Wissowa (Religion und Kultus der
Römer, p. 96). It is rejected for the
reasons given in the text by Ph. Buttmann
(Mythologus, ii. pp. 72, 79) and
S. Linde (De Jano summo Romanorum
deo, pp. 50 sqq.).
1267. He was so saluted in the ancient
hymns of the Salii. See Macrobius,
Sat. i. 9. 14; compare Varro, De
lingua Latina, vii. 26 sq.
1268. G. Curtius, Grundzüge der griechischen
Etymologie, 5th Ed.,, p. 258; O. Schrader,
Reallexikon der indogermanischen Altertumskunde,
p. 866.
1269. This theory of the derivation
of janua from Janus was suggested,
though not accepted, by Ph. Butmann
(Mythologus, ii. 79 sqq.). It occurred
to me independently. Mr. A. B. Cook
also derives janua from Janus, but he
would explain the derivation in a
different way by supposing that the
lintel and two side-posts of a door
represented a triple Janus. See his
article “Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak,”
Classical Review, xviii. (1904) p. 369.
1270. K. Martin, “Bericht über eine
Reise ins Gebiet des Oberen-Surinam,”
Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde
van Nederlandsch-Indië, xxxv.
(1886) pp. 28 sq. I am indebted to
Mr. A. van Gennep for pointing out
this confirmation of my theory as to
the meaning of the double-headed Janus.
See his article “Janus Bifrons,” Revue
des traditions populaires, xxii. (1907)
pp. 97 sq.
1271. Macrobius, Saturn. i. 9. 7, “Sed
apud nos Janum omnibus praeesse januis
nomen ostendit, quod est simile θυραίῳ.
Nam et cum clavi ac virga figuratur,
quasi omnium et portarum custos et
rector viarum”; Ovid, Fasti, i. 95,
99, “Sacer ancipiti mirandus imagine
Janus ... tenens dextra baculum
clavemque sinistra.”