A Beltaine Blessing …

by Phillip Wright

The main source of reference for Old English month names comes from the Venerable Bede who recorded the pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon month names in his Latin work known as De mensibus Anglorum, written in 725AD. This is the only testimony of an Old High German lunar-solar system, with a balancing month being inserted around Midsummer; while Charlemagne recorded agricultural Old High German names for the Julian months. These remained in use, with regional variants and innovations, until the end of the medieval period in German-speaking Europe and persisted in popular or dialectal use into the 19th century. 

The Celtic names now in popular use for the Wheel of the Year were only adopted in the 1970s by the neo-Wiccan movement who objected to the traditional Craft use of Church festival names: Candlemas, Roodmas, Lammas, Hallowmas, etc.. But since these festivals were originally pagan and absorbed into early Christian doctrine it meant that people could be open about their faith and use the names in common conversation – thus they passed back into traditional witchcraft and remain another direct link with the Ancestors through continued usage within traditional British Old Craft.

Likewise, in Ireland today they openly refer to Beltaine and Samhain as the time of the year in Gaelic and not with any Craft connotations because the Celtic year was simply divided into a bright half and a dark half. As the day was seen as beginning at sunrise, so the year was seen as beginning with the arrival of the bright half of the year starting at Calan Haf/Beltaine  (1st May, in the modern calendar) when cattle were taken out to the summer pastures. The observance of festivals beginning the evening before the festival day is still seen in the celebrations and folkloric practices among pagans, such as the traditions of Beltaine Eve, Midsummer Eve, Lammas Eve, etc.

Since ancient methods of recording time passing were based on the agrarian calendars, it stands to reason that most of our traditional festivals are geared towards the farming cycle since witchcraft dates to well before the Industrial Revolution when there were mass migrations from the countryside.  This means thinking outside the box for modern witches when we talk about ‘seed-time and harvest’ since many urban pagans are unable to relate to these everyday country matters.  Nevertheless, as this is the time for new beginnings we can think in terms of our ‘seed time’ as being a metaphorical approach to new ideas, renewed ambitions, and fresh approaches in our career or domestic affairs but the old calendar gives us yet another direct link to the Ancestors.

May Day celebrations have always been an excuse for enjoyment and pleasure and the Compass working should reflect light-heartedness and thanksgiving.  Although Roodmas in the Church calendar is a rather sombre affair commemorating the discovery of the ‘true cross’, we suspect it had something to do with replacing the may-pole as the symbol central to the day’s celebrations;

no doubt in order to temper the natural pagan exuberance for the festival.  As we are working in conjunction with the Julian calendar we can use a 17th century poem and conduct a magical cleansing and protection rite for our home. Robert Herrick’s The Old Wives Prayer gives an example of the beliefs and language of the time – and can still be used as a protection spell today:

Holy-Rood, come forth and shield

Us i’ the’ city and the field;

Safely guard us now and aye,

From a blast that burns by day,

And those sounds that us affright

In the dead of dampish night;

Drive all hurtful fiends us fro,

By the time the cocks first crow.

The community pagan symbol for May Day was, of course, the may-pole, which was found primarily in England, and in areas of the Scottish Lowlands and Wales that came under English influence. The earliest recorded evidence comes from a Welsh poem written by Gryffydd ap Adda ap Dafydd in the mid-14th century, in which he described how people used a tall birch pole at Llanidloes in central Wales; while literary evidence for maypole customs increase in later decades, and ‘by the period 1350-1400 the custom was well established across southern Britain, in town and country and in both Welsh-speaking and English-speaking areas’, according to The Stations of the Sun: A History of the Ritual Year in Britain.  Few of us, we suspect, would be able to obtain a thirty-foot birch tree for the occasion!

In some regions, however, a different maypole tradition existed: the carrying of highly decorated sticks with hoops or cross-sticks, or swags attached, covered with flowers, greenery or artificial materials such as crêpe paper.  This tradition is known as garlanding, and was a central feature of May Day celebrations in central and southern England until the mid-19th century and is a more practical adaptation that we can use within our Craft celebrations as a lead-up to Old Beltaine.  It can even be hung on the front door where the Yule wreath will later mark the Mid-Winter festival.

Even more traditionally, the Beltaine festival actually fell about halfway between the Vernal Equinox and the Summer Solstice and historically marked the beginning of summer when cattle were moved to summer pastures.  Rituals were performed to protect the livestock, crops and people, and to encourage growth; special bonfires were kindled, and their flames, smoke and ashes were all deemed to have protective powers. The people and their animals would walk around the bonfire or between two bonfires, and sometimes leap over the flames or embers. All household fires would be doused and then re-lit from the Beltaine bonfire. These gatherings would be accompanied by a feast with some of the food and drink being offered to the Ancestors and the deity of the harvest.

With climate change now affecting the seasons, there can be a problem in celebrating Beltaine if the May blossom isn’t in bloom.  Why? Walk past a hedgerow when its coming into bloom and we breathe the spicy, almond-like scent of the flowers which has been prized for centuries by perfumers because hawthorn blossom exudes a heavy musky fragrance with sexual undertones … so it’s not surprising that rural mothers wouldn’t let it in the house … something rarely acknowledged in folklore, but implicit in much of the popular culture of the hawthorn and its associations with witchcraft. This is why in Craft-lore it is deemed important that the festival coincides with the early flowering when the blossoms give out that strangely disturbing but unmistakable perfume.

Leave it until the flowers are fully open, however, and they begin to give off another unsettling smell – one of death.  Once the hawthorn has become covered with beautiful spring blossoms these can have a most unpleasant odour. With a smell described as that of decomposing flesh, even the bees are reluctant to pollinate the flowers; when animal flesh begins to decompose it forms trimethylamine, a colourless gas with a strong, fishy, ammonia-like odour. Research has found that the hawthorn flowers produce this same chemical. Travelling on air currents to reach pollinators near and far, this odour assures the pollination of the flowers, the setting of fruit and seed production, creating the next generation of hawthorn.

Or as I often say: ‘If the hawthorn’s not in bloom it ain’t Beltaine!’

The Old Lad – a Nameless God

In traditional British Old Craft we echo the thought of the quintessential Japanese swordsman, Mushasi Miyamoto: ‘Respect the gods and buddhas, but never rely on them’.

  • But, who, or what, are the gods of Old Craft witches?

The image we see in our mind’s eye is probably influenced by what we consider to be the epitome of male beauty drawn from the mythology of the different paths and traditions.  And, while the gods had their positive traits, they were no models of perfection because deities of the Old World had a darker side that has become forgotten with antiquity.  In contemporary witchcraft, the god is traditionally seen as the ‘Horned God’ – an archetypal deity with links to the Celtic Cernunnos, English folkloric Herne the Hunter, and the Greek god, Pan.

Arguably the most visually impressive and rather portentous of ancient Celtic gods, Cernunnos is actually the general name given to horned deities and, given the ambiguous scope of the ‘Horned God’ in Celtic mythology, there are no recorded myths and ancient literary sources that directly pertain to the figure of Cernunnos. As such, the term is found only once in the historical context – mentioned on a Roman column dating from circa 1st century AD. There are representations of the Celtic Horned God that predate the Roman Cernunnos, the most well-known depiction of the deity being found on the Gundestrup Cauldron (circa 1st century BC), discovered from Jutland.  Most of these figures and inscriptions represent a human or a half-human with antler crowns, and such historical portrayals, in turn, influenced the modern representations of Cernunnos as the forest deity with his set of elaborate antlers.

The popular imagery of Cernunnos as the Otherworldly horned figure residing within the depths of the forest is arguably inspired by Margaret Murray’s 1931 book, The God of the Witches. Murray, who was a historian, anthropologist and folklorist  – famous for her Witch-Cult theory – surmised that Herne the Hunter, a folk-hero from around the Berkshire region, was a localized aspect of Cernunnos.  He was a phantom hunter who haunts Windsor Great Park, impersonated by Falstaff in Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, and though Herne may have been an actual keeper of the forest, he probably became a local manifestation of the Wild Huntsman myth known throughout the world.

If we claim to follow the ancient gods then we must accept them as they were – warts and all – we cannot re-write the script because it offends 21st century sensibilities.  The Old Lad is a roaring, pouncing kind of an individual for whom the notion of sacrifice represented a higher aspect of communion between men and gods; although down through the ages it became more allied to morality until the Roman State-cult introduced the pax deorum – the relation of kindliness between gods and men.  Nevertheless, although an inappropriate sacrifice could give serious religious offence, so strong was the idea of this ancient belief that newly emerging Christianity took the dying god/sacrificial king image to the very heart of their religion! This darker element of the Old Lad was easily identified through ignorance (or deliberate political propaganda) with the biblical satan/devil and indeed the Old Lad might have appeared rather ‘devilish’ to a clergy hell-bent on eradicating pagan beliefs; whilst at the same time incorporating the more powerful imagery of the ancient world’s sacrificial god into their own rites, where we still find that kindred calls to kindred, blood calls to blood.

In these newly migrating religions and mythologies, anthropomorphism became the perception of a divine being in human form, or the recognition of human qualities in these entities.  In fact, ancient mythologies frequently represented the divine as deities with human forms and qualities. They resembled humans not only in appearance and personality; they exhibited many human behaviors that were used to explain natural phenomena, creation, and historical events. The deities fell in love, married, had children, fought battles, wielded weapons, and rode horses and chariots. They feasted on special foods, and sometimes required sacrifices of food, beverage, and sacred objects to be made as offerings.  Some anthropomorphic deities represented specific human concepts, such as love, war, fertility, beauty, or the seasons; exhibiting human qualities such as beauty, wisdom, and power, and sometimes human weaknesses such as greed, hatred, jealousy, and uncontrollable anger. Greek deities such as Zeus and Apollo often were depicted in human form exhibiting both commendable and despicable human traits.

With all these multi-faceted perceptions of god-head perhaps we should look at the witches’ god as an embodiment of the physical perfection of Apollo Belvedere, superimposed with a DeviantArt image of Pan in all his primordial splendour.  That is, all the grandeur of the Olympian, tempered by the primitive energies of Nature … because Apollo was the Greek god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and healing and with whom Charles Leyland identified his Luciferian-type of character in his 1889 publication of Aradia, or the Gospel of the Witches. 

‘The individual man makes God after his individual imagination.  We each worship a God of our own.  The warrior-like nature of the Scandinavian gods reflects the characteristics of their worshippers.  In fact it may be said that the development of the religious germ depends, to a great extent, on the nature of the people, on the natural features and geology of the country more than on political surroundings and social habits … Thus, the study of the mythological creed of the inhabitants of any land offers a wide and tempting subject to the inquirer … Yet numerous singular customs exist which must have originated from a religious idea.  The religious aspect of the rites has been gradually obscured, and in some cases finally lost, but the customs have been carried on, almost in stereotyped form, from the days in which they were practiced by the native people.  If these customs be compared with those described in the passages illustrative of rites and observations in ancient Irish MSS, there will probably be discovered for us the entire secret of the religious system of our heathen ancestors.’ [Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland]

The popular image of the Greek god Pan was removed from its classical context in the writings of the Romantics of the 18th century and connected with their ideals of a pastoral England. This, along with the general public’s increasing lack of familiarity of Greek mythology at the time led to the figure of Pan becoming generalised as a ‘Horned God’, and applying connotations to the character, such as benevolence that were not evident in the original Greek myth, which in turn gave rise to the popular acceptance of Murray’s hypothetical Horned God of the Witches.

The duality of the Horned God, however, was firmly entrenched in our folklore and every year at the Winter and Summer Solstices, these two fought for dominance. In actuality, they were two parts of the same thing: the waxing and waning of the yearly cycles of the Earth. The Holly King rules the waning year, from Midsummer to Yule, and the Oak King rules the waxing year from Yule to Midsummer. The Holly King represents darkness, decay and destruction -but also represents inner knowledge and Mysteries. The Oak King, on the other hand, represents light, growth and expansion. These two mighty kings fight a symbolic battle to win the Crown of the year – at Yule when the Oak King wins, and at Midsummer when the Holly King wins.

In some of the legends, the dates of these events are shifted and the battle takes place at the Equinoxes, so that the Oak King is at his strongest during Midsummer, and the Holly King is dominant during Yule. From a folkloric and agricultural standpoint, this interpretation seems to make more sense.  In some traditions, the Oak King and the Holly King are seen as dual aspects of the Horned God with each of these twin aspects ruling for half the year; battling for the favour of the Goddess, and then retiring to nurse his wounds for the next six months, until it is time for him to reign once more.

Both Robert Graves and Sir James George Frazer wrote about this battle. Graves said in his work The White Goddess that the conflict between the Oak and Holly Kings echoes that of a For instance, the fights between Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and between Lugh and Balor in Celtic legend, are similar in type, in which one figure must die for the other to triumph.  Frazer wrote, in The Golden Bough,  of the killing of the King of the Wood, or the tree spirit. He went on to say that as long as the King could maintain his position, it might be inferred that he was in power; the eventual defeat indicated that his strength was beginning to fail, and it was time for someone newer, younger, and more vigorous to take over. Ultimately, while these two beings do battle all year long, they are two essential parts of a whole. Despite being rivals, without one, the other would no longer exist. 

In truth, the dark tide first begins to stir at Lammas, the time of fruition and harvest when the crops are gathered and fruits begin to ripen. Under the new style calendar, Lammas would be celebrated on 1st August; in the Elder Faith where we still follow the old calendar, we would perform the Lammas Rite on 12th August. When we’re heading towards the Autumnal Equinox, when the two tides of summer/winter, bright/dark, god/goddess stand equally opposed so – the bright tide will start to wane, the dark aspect ever increasing – and traditionally Lammas was essentially a male-oriented ritual. Within the Coven the goddess-imagery now fades into the back ground until the fires of Candlemas and the Vernal Equinox call her forth once again; with a shared celebration of fresh bread and wine/beer she takes her leave and future Coven rites reflect the god’s growing power in the form of the Magister.

Incidentally, Brân is one of the few truly old Pretannic gods who can trace his ancestry to pre-Celtic times, and is usually referred to as the ‘Brân Blessed’ or Brân Fendigaidd in Welsh, which literally means ‘blessed crow or raven’. He was a legendary, pre-Arthurian, King of Britain and a fearless warrior; a popular figure in the bardic traditions he was well-known in Welsh mythology during the Iron Age. Legend describes him as a giant of semi-divine heritage who possessed supernatural strength and abilities since his father was Llŷr, the god of the sea; he was also brother to Brânwen, of whom he was fiercely protective – playing his most significant role in the Mabinogi: Branwen ferch Llŷr. A patron of poetry and music, Brân was hailed as the embodiment of sovereignty, eventually being venerated as a god, a folk-hero and a powerful king among the numerous tribes of Britain where he was associated with ravens as a god of prophecy.

Today we rarely encounter Brân outside traditional Welsh literature, but he deserves his place among those who follow the Old Ways as a symbol of faith and honour and possibly Britain’s greatest warrior. And yet there are elements of his story that have been preserved in traditional witchcraft – including the significance of the cauldron, the holiness of the alder and the recognition of ravens as messengers. Kindred calls to kindred, blood calls to blood. It can even be said that elements of Brân can be metamorphosed into the Old Lad if that’s how we choose to see him and celebrate his feast day at the Autumn Equinox.

Also in English folklore, John Barleycorn is a character who represents the crop of barley harvested each autumn. Equally as important, he symbolizes the wonderful drinks which can be made from barley – beer and whisky – and their effects. In the traditional folksong, the character of John Barleycorn endures all kinds of indignities, most of which correspond to the cyclic nature of planting, growing, harvesting, and then death. It has all the symbolism of the dying god/sacrificial king that is at the heart of all witchcraft and ancient pagan tradition. Versions of the folk-song date back to the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, but there is evidence that it was sung for many years before that and, although most of us no longer work on the land, the power of this extraordinary and ancient song remains undiminished.

The first tide of destruction and winter comes with Hallowe’en, the Feast of the Dead and the first day of the witch’s year with the dark tide of the Holly King and Lord of Misrule reaching its high point at the Mid-Winter Festival – the Winter Solstice. The first stirrings of the dark tide are felt at Lammas, the time of fruition and harvest when the crops are gathered in and fruits begin to ripen. At the Autumnal Equinox the tides are once again equally opposed with the bright tide waning and the dark increasing. At Mid-Winter the tide of darkness is at its height and so the cycle continues …

The darkening of the year is the realm of the Old Lad until Candlemas heralds the end of the Holly King’s reign, which once again explains why we Old Crafters synchronise our rituals to coincide with the Old Julian calendar that links us directly to the power of the Ancestors when kindred calls to kindred, and blood calls to blood. Here, darkness is the natural opposite of light, when our world is divided between winter and summer, but wintertime is not considered evil or bad – it is merely the world held in balance until the sun begins its return at the Mid-Winter Festival that marks the Winter Solstice with fire and rejoicing.  It is during this time we call upon the Old Lad for protection and guidance through the long, dark days of winter, and just as he watches over his consort as she sleeps, so we make the propitiatory offerings to appease him through ritual acts, attitude, or gifts. Our pre-Celtic ancestors worshiped the forces of nature and did not envisage deities in anthropomorphic forms – unlike modern paganism with its eclectic pantheons. Our gods are faceless and nameless but s/he is no less powerful for all their anonymity; votive offerings were made throughout the landscape in areas of the natural world that were held to be sacred, namely in groves of trees, rocky outcrops, river crossings, lakes and springs.

The Ancestors act as Coven guardians and also channel the god-power in a two-way conduit, for it would be too hazardous to allow a direct current to pass between supplicant and benefactor. This shield can also act as a safety-barrier for any deific displeasure we may inadvertently attract by behaving inappropriately, i.e. ignoring or disobeying the rules. It guards us from infiltration by outsiders who would join our ranks in order to acquire secret information or cause damage. And, it warns when our own are wavering and likely to fall prey to indiscretion and flattery. It also means that once we are permanently linked to this power, we don’t even have to think about it in order to tap into it. This is what it means to be an Old Craft witch

Needless to say, it may take many years of practice until this conduit becomes automatically open for us but ancient cultures understood that we live in a vast ‘sea’ of cosmic energy. They taught that everything animate and inanimate has consciousness and channels this energy, according to its individual capabilities, to help facilitate this essential universal dialogue. Ancestral communication is the highest form of spiritual channelling that comes from a strong, deep and pure connection with the Ancestors themselves and, through the Ancestors, with the Divine.

At the Mid-Winter Festival we pay homage to the Old Lad in his ‘coat of many colours’ – as protector of the Old Lass and his Consort; as Dark Lord of the Forest and God of the Witches; as the Holly King; as Lord of the Revels in the guise of his surrogate, the Lord of Misrule; as the Unconquered Sun; as psychopomp, the guide of souls to the place of the dead; and as Master of the Wild Hunt.  This multi-faceted god is an element that contemporary paganism wishes to suppress and the one that we, of Old Craft, exalt above all others.  The Old Lad is a primal god from the days when the world was young and deity was sacrificed in order that his followers should survive.

February then, is traditionally a gloomy time, but magically it’s a time when the natural tides are on the move again. Candlemas, then, is the re-awakening of the Old Lass and also coincides with the Roman Festa Candelarum, which commemorated the search for Persephone by her mother Demeter, Persephone having been kidnapped by the King of the Otherworld, Hades. From these ancient rites we can see how they identify with the Old Lass and her awakening, not to mention their association with the Mysteries of Old Craft.

In Witchcraft: A Tradition Renewed, Evan John Jones acknowledges that Candlemas is the first of the great Sabbats and the start of the ritual year, when it is time to let go of the past and to look to the future, clearing out the old, making both outer and inner space for new beginnings. But, as Melusine Draco explains in Seeking the Primal Goddess, generally speaking, Old Craft witches prefer not to associate their deities with any dubious mythology – home-grown or foreign import – instead we refer to them obliquely as the Old Ones, the Owd Lad and Owd Lass, the Lord and Lady, or just Him and Her because in truth they are the Nameless God and the Faceless Goddess. Once again, Fire is the most important aspect of this celebration because it symbolizes bringing the light of the Old Lass back to the world and the start of the Old Lad beginning to relinquish his power.

We also need to look back into the distant past for those animals most likely to have been associated with the Horned God.  For example:

Connamara Stag

It is 10,000 years since the last giant Irish Elk with its 10-foot wide antlers grazed in Ireland’s deep forests. And though the noble beast is long extinct, naturalists have long been puzzled as to how, and why, it grew such magnificent headgear. Now a strange tale from the heart of Connemara has provided experts with an intriguing clue. Red stags introduced to the west of Ireland some years ago by the owner of a large estate with an interest in wildlife have astonished experts by growing to an immense size and producing magnificent antlers.

Ten years ago, Nikolai Burkart, a German industrialist, released 16 young red deer at Screebe, his Connemara estate. His aim was to reintroduce a species that had been present for centuries in this country, until the last few were shot during the famine 150 years ago.  But Mr Burkart was surprised the deer have grown to such splendid proportions – towering over the red deer of the Scottish Highlands. Connemara’s stags are in a different league: a good Highland stag carcass weighs about 16 stone. The red deer of Connemara weigh twice that, at least.

Experts suggest a number of factors for such phenomenal growth. Firstly the animals are descended from top-class stock via Co Wicklow with their ancestors, in turn, derived from the herd in Warnham Park, in Surrey in England.  The second reason which may offer an intriguing insight into ancient times is the environment. What appears to be hostile terrain in Connemara has underlying limestone which is taken up in the vegetation. That helps build bone and antler.

A third factor is the good feeding in the unfenced conifer woodlands owned by Coillte, the state forestry organisation. Analysis of droppings, carried out by biologists from NUI Galway has shown that the deer have become predominantly browsers rather than grazers. Some 80 per cent of their food consists of bramble leaves, heather, willow shoots, and just 20 per cent is grass. Luckily, they do practically no damage to the trees.

The giant Irish Elk maintained its enormous antlers despite the privations of the last Ice Age, when it might have been expected that they would have reduced due to food scarcity. Research carried out some years ago by University College London found that these so-called ‘luxury’ organs – the antlers – remained impressively large.  Their present-day descendants in Connemara spent the first four months in an enclosure, but since then they have never been confined and are truly wild.

  • So when we look at a stag as representing the Horned God, we need to look towards the magnificent creatures of Connemara before we can say: ‘That’s a god!


The aurochs, which ranged throughout much of Euasia and Northern Africa during the late Pleistocene and early Holocene, is the wild ancestor of modern cattle. Historical descriptions, like Caesar’s Commentarii de Bello Gallico or 17th-century biologist, Anton Schneeberger, tell that aurochs were swift and fast, and could be very aggressive. According to these sources, aurochs were not concerned when a man approached, but when teased or hunted, an aurochs could get very aggressive and dangerous, and throw the teasing person into the air, as he described in a 1602 letter to Gesner.

The aurochs was an important game animal appearing in both Paleolithic European and Mesopotamian cave paintings, such as those found at Lascaux and Livernonat in France. When the aurochs became rarer, hunting it became a privilege of the nobility and a sign of a high social status. With the aurochs immobilized, the curly hair on the forehead was cut from the living animal. Belts were made out of this hair and were believed to increase the fertility of women. When the aurochs was slaughtered, a cross-like bone (os cardis) was extracted from the heart. This bone, which is also present in domesticated cattle, contributed to the mystique of the animal and magical powers have been attributed to it. A 1999 archaeological dig in Peterborough, England, uncovered the skull of an aurochs. The front part of the skull had been removed, but the horns remained attached. The supposition is that the killing of the aurochs in this instance was a sacrificial act.

Also during antiquity, the aurochs was regarded as an animal of cultural value. Aurochs are depicted on the Ishtar Gate, while aurochs figurines were made by the Maykop culture in Western Caucasus. In the Peloponnese there is a 15th-century BC depiction on the so-called ‘violent cup of Vaphio’, of hunters trying to capture with nets three wild bulls being probably aurochs, in a possibly Cretan date-palm stand. One of the bulls throws a hunter to the ground while attacking the second with its horns. Despite an earlier perception that the cup was Minoan, it seems to be Mycenaean Greeks and Paenians hunted aurochs (wild oxen/bulls) and used their huge horns as trophies, cups for wine, and offerings to the gods and heroes.

Starting around 2007, the Dutch-based Tauros Programme tried to DNA-sequence breeds of primitive cattle to find gene-sequences that match those found in ‘ancient DNA’ from aurochs samples. The modern cattle would be selectively bred to try to produce the aurochs-type genes in a single animal.  The breeds which are used for crossbreeding mostly stem from the Iberian Peninsular and Italy. For example, these are Sayaguesa, cattle, Pajuna cattle, Italian Podolica and Maremmana primitivo. Although claimed to be genetically close to the aurochs, the Lidia breed of Spanish fighting bull was not used for the project due to its aggressive behaviour!

  • With its reputation for untamability and uncertain temperament, surely the aurochs with its noble history is another candidate for divine association?

Sheep and goats

Certain species of sheep and goats with spiral horns like a helmet have, in antiquity, been elevated to the level of divinity.  The ‘Goat of Mendes of the Egyptians was, in fact a ram!

The chief deity of Mendes was Banebdjedet (lit. Ba of the Lord of Djedet), and described by Herodotus in his Histories as being represented with the head and fleece of a goat: ‘…whereas anyone with a sanctuary of Mendes, or who comes from the province of Mendes, will have nothing to do with [sacrificing] goats, but uses sheep as his sacrificial animals…’

Demonologists in more modern times often imagined Satan as manifesting himself as a goat or satyr, because goats had a reputation for lustful behavior and were used in the iconography of pre-Christian gods like Pan and the ‘Goat of Mendes’. The occultist Eliphas Levi in his Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie (1855) drew an image of the fictitious medieval idol Baphomet that conflated it with the goat of Mendes and the imagery of the Satanic satyr. The image of the satyr-like Baphomet and its supposed connection with Mendes has since been repeated by numerous occult writers.

In reality, regardless of an individual ram’s behavior, it is important to remember that all rams are aggressive, or have the potential to be aggressive, even if they appear ‘friendly’. Hand-reared ram-lambs may seem more docile and friendlier, but in fact they are the most dangerous since they have no fear of the shepherd. Animals that have a great deal of human contact and interaction can lose their fear of humans and can become very aggressive.

While sheep are generally docile, non-aggressive creatures, this is not necessarily the case with rams (intact males), especially during the breeding season (rut). Rams can be very aggressive and have been known to cause serious injuries, even death, to people. A ram should never be trusted, even if it is friendly or was raised as a pet; it is important to always know where the ram is and to never turn your back on him.

Goats, however, are more aggressive and inquisitive than sheep and tend to demonstrate dominance within a social grouping more than sheep. Goats display their dominance by lowering the head and pointing their horns at the subordinate animal. Although attacks against humans are few and far between, mountain goats are among the most aggressive toward their own species. When individuals are grouped together, they display, charge, and engage in mini-duels four or five times per hour. Females are typically more aggressive than males.

These animals also have an element of weirdness due to the shape of their eyes, which are horizontal – not circular like ours, or vertical like a cat’s. A broad line of sight, aided by wide, rectangular-shaped pupils, allows them to see danger approaching from their peripheral vision.  The shape of the animal’s pupil, it turns out, is closely related to the animal’s size and whether it’s a predator or prey.

  • The bounteous Pan, the god of rural scenery, shepherdi, and huntsmen,’ as the poet Milton calls him, is the Greek god of woods and fields. Originally a pastoral god from Arcadia and depicted as a wild deity with the horns and hooves of a goat, Pan was believed to dwell in the mountains and forests of ancient Greece.  Pan’s image has undergone a wide range of representation and, by Roman times, he came to be regarded as the representative of paganism and the personification of all nature.

For all that contemporary paganism declares itself on familiar terms with the divine, we have to consider that our Nameless God, may truly be a deus otiosus – one who, after completing the creation, withdrew into heaven and abandoned the government of the world to the humans.  The Ancestors are subordinate to him and act as mediators between him and the human race who are slowly destroying the planet; all the evidence is there to suggest that he no longer wishes to listen. This type of divinity, who is only willing to intervene directly in times of great need – such as drought, pestilence, or war – can be found primarily where worship has become disenfranchised from the all-inclusive earth deity, or where individual ‘earth spirits’ or minor deities obscure everything else.  

Or … no longer believing in the god’s Omnipotence – which regards him as having supreme power and able to do what he wants. Meaning he is not subject to physical limitations like mankind is. Being omnipotent, god has power over wind, water, gravity, physics, etc. and a power that is infinite, or limitless.

Or … Omniscience means all-knowing. God is all all-knowing in the sense that he is aware of the past, present, and future. Nothing takes him by surprise. His knowledge is total. He knows all that there is to know and all that can be known.

Or … Omnipresence meaning all-present. This term means that God is capable of being everywhere at the same time. It means his divine presence encompasses the whole of the universe. There is no location where he does not inhabit. This should not be confused with pantheism, which suggests that God is synonymous with the universe itself; instead, omnipresence indicates that God is distinct from the universe, but inhabits the entirety of it. He is everywhere at once

Or … Omnibenevolence – the belief that God is all good. Many theologians (for example) regard these attributes as essential to a god’s nature. In other words, if a deity did not have these characteristics, he wouldn’t be god. For example, for god to be god, he would need to have supreme power (omnipotence); if he was not omnipotent, he wouldn’t be qualified to be a god.

In reality, in primitive traditions there is a Supreme God, the Great and Almighty God, who was too distant to be of practical importance in daily life and so not worshipped directly.  But there were numerous other spirits, entities and agents which acted as intermediaries on behalf of humankind. In traditional British Old Craft, the Ancestors are worshipped directly because they do have direct influence over earthly affairs.

The Old Lass – A Faceless Goddess

by Melusine Draco

‘The important position ascribed to goddesses in the Elder Faith is very noticeable, and was doubtless owing, at least in part, to the associations of maternity and the train of thought following therefrom’, wrote William Wood-Martin.

‘Gods and goddesses were regarded as semi-spiritual beings, and as the origin, as well as the guardians or rulers of the tribe.  At this stage the god or goddess and the worshippers formed a natural unity bound up with the district they occupied.  The dissolution of the tribe destroyed the tribal religion, and destroyed the tribal deity; the god or goddess could no more exist without its tribe than the tribe without its deity.  Nevertheless, Elder Faith deities were not inanimate, obscure imports and there is little doubt but that many of them, under ancient Gaulish names, may be recognized in the old legends.  Many of the old Celtic gods-goddesses of Gaul, of Britain, and of Ireland appear to have been the nature-gods of the primitive Aryan family although of differing British and Gaulish prototypes.’  [Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland, vol 2]

‘Many singular customs of the peasantry are but faint reflected lights of the old past, for, although the Christian missionaries did their utmost, according to their light, to stamp out paganism, there remained in the hearts of the people a deeply rooted fondness for the form of worship in which they had been brought up.  It was the religion of their forefathers and despite the popular ideas of the rapid conversion of the islands to Christianity, yet in almost every district there must have remained some few who clung with tenacity to the old tenets, and handed them down from generation to generation in a more or less mutilated form.  To the present day very distinct traces of paganism may be found in the practices attributed to wise women and witches.  In these superstitions and observations of the peasantry are enshrined strange fragmentary relics of earlier creeds but their remote antiquity and now but half decipherable implications are, in general, passed unnoticed. [Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland, vol 1]

At the festival of old Imbolc – transposed into the Church calendar as Candlemas – a Christian holiday celebrating three occasions – the presentation of the child Jesus; Jesus’ first entry into the temple; and the Virgin Mary’s purification (mainly in Catholic churches). At Candlemas, many Christians (especially Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans, Orthodox and Roman Catholics) also brought their candles to their local church, where they were blessed and then used for the rest of the year.

All this Christian overlay merely confirms what an important festival this was for our pagan forebears and, as such it became the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary in the church calendar. The Christian feast-day commemorates the ceremony performed by the mother of Jesus in the temple of Jerusalem forty days after the birth of Christ in fulfillment of the Mosaic Law requiring the cleansing of a woman from the ritual impurity incurred at childbirth.  The convenience of having yet another pagan festival falling within the ‘nativity cycle’ meant that Brigid became a Catholic saint and her feast-day incorporated into the Church calendar! In the early calendar, on that morning, many candles were lit in the churches, symbolically driving out the darkness. In the afternoon, there was feasting all around, with much music as Candlemas Day (2nd February) marked the formal end of winter. 

In the pagan Celtic world it was Imbolc, the festival marking the beginning of spring that has been celebrated since ancient times. It is also a cross quarter day, midpoint between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, and the name derives from the Old Irish imbolg meaning ‘in the belly’, a time when sheep began to lactate, their udders filled and the grass began to grow. Imbolc was a time to celebrate the Celtic goddess Brigid, goddess of inspiration, healing, and smithcraft, with associations to fire, the hearth and poetry.  Also called Là Fhèill Brìghde, it corresponds to the Welsh Gwyl Fair y Canhwyllau as a traditional festival marking the beginning of spring; it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man and, for Christians, especially in Ireland, it became the feast day of Saint Brigid. Local festivals marking the arrival of the first signs of spring may be named after either the Cailleach or Brìghde, while some interpretations have them as two faces of the same goddess.

Là Fhèill Brìghde, is also the day the Cailleach gathers her firewood for the rest of the winter. Legend has it that, if she intends to make the winter last a good while longer, she will make sure the weather on 1st February is bright and sunny, so she can gather plenty of firewood to keep herself warm in the coming months. As a result, people are generally relieved if Là Fhèill Brìghde is a day of foul weather, as it means the Cailleach is still asleep, will soon run out of firewood, and therefore winter is almost over. The Cailleach is a divine hag, a creatorix, weather and ancestor deity while Brigid is a sort of Celtic Athena, with very similar functions. Although most often presented as a mysteriously veiled, ancient woman, the Cailleach is also said to take on the guise of many different beasts and birds as she travels around the rugged landscapes of her homeland.  The Cailleach Béara is said to be one of the most ancient of mythological beings, appearing as an old crone who brings winter with her when she appears and who wields incredible power over life and death.  Her ability to control the weather and the seasons meant many communities looked on the Cailleach with a mixture of reverence and fear.

From Candlemas, the Earth and Coven practice is given over to the Old Lass – when all things in Nature are seeding and growing.  It is the time when the Old Lad is resting and when we might hear those Pan-pipings, or the sound of the lyre-strings rippling through the reeds and grasses.  It was said that if you fell asleep beneath a willow tree, the sound of the wind in its leaves could inspire, and that ‘wind in the willows’ referred to the elves whispering among themselves in willows as humans walked underneath.  The Old Lass oversees her world until Lammas when the dark tide begins to turn and the Old Lad prepares to take centre stage again – and the Coven rituals begin to reflect his presence.

Because humankind has always had a tendency to see images of its gods in his own likeness, we have come to see pagan deities very much cast in 20th century form.  Ironically in giving ‘goddess-energy’ the cartoon image of a warrior-princess or a member of the pre-Raphaelite sisterhood, the true mystery of ancient witchcraft has been lost in favor of fantasy creations.  Just as Christianity pinched the Egyptian Isis-Horus concept and promoted the Madonna and Child as a popular image, so modern paganism often adopts a similar approach to the Mother-Goddess in order to give this new religion ‘people appeal’.

For the purposes of Old Craft techniques, however, it is important to accept the energies associated with these archaic male-female aspects of magic and not transpose the concept of the loving, caring Great-Mother-Goddess of Wicca-Christianity into Old Craft working.  The female-goddess energy within Nature is just as ‘red in tooth and claw’ as male-god energy; both are equally as merciless as the other.  It is also important to understand that this energy (whether male or female) is neither malevolent nor benevolent, it is merely ‘there’waiting to be harnessed for use in magic rites.  It also means that any goddess-invocation can be fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Although not a religion, this is a belief – a belief in one’s own abilities and in the ‘Power’ that fuels the universe; and a faith – faith in one’s self and in that ‘Power’. This is not generally seen as gender specific but in truth, the Elder Faith does lean towards the male aspect since the female remains veiled and a mystery.  In other words, the ‘God’ is the public face of traditional British Old Craft while the ‘Goddess’ remains in the shadows, revered and shielded by her protector.  Not because she is some shy and defenseless creature, but because face to face she would be too terrible to look upon!  Or as the scientist who discovered the deadly Marburg filovirus observed when he saw the virus particles: ‘They were white cobras tangled among themselves, like the hair of Medusa.  They were the face of Nature herself, the obscene goddess revealed naked … breathtakingly beautiful.’  The secrets of the Elder Faith come from the understanding of these things …

We also accept that the physical worldly embodiment of the goddess – Mother Nature – is neither caring nor motherly and when she wants to cut up rough – she will, without a thought for anything, or anyone.   In the guise of ‘The Goddess’ she is usually seen as spending her days caring for her many children who inhabit and shape the landscape – often portrayed in trailing garments composed of lush plants, colourful flowers, and sinuous woody shapes. In most depictions she is meditative, embodying the spirit of the mythological ‘mother’ in Nature. Firmly entering the zeitgeist as a figure akin to that aforementioned synergetic composite of Burne-Jones in the later stages of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, Guinevere of Arthurian romance, and Daenerys Stormborn from Game of Thrones – reflecting the general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of the era.

Over previous decades, however, the archaeo-mythological work of Professor Marija Gimbutas was revealing a far more primal approach to discovering the persona of this ‘hidden’ goddess of Old Europe.  Not unexpectedly, her theories have been dismissed by many of her fellow archaeologists but like Carl Jung and Margaret Murray, whose work has also suffered similar professional scorn, there are elements that ‘speak’ to authentic witches on a more subliminal level. As writer Allen Bennett once observed it’s that moment in reading when you come across something … ‘a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.’ It was as if, on discovering the writings of Marija Gimbutas, the tectonic plates of archaeo-mythologica (Old Europe) and esoteria (Old Craft) collided – and made complete sense of the way we viewed this ‘hidden’ Primal Goddess within our own Tradition.

We also found ourselves asking, but where exactly was this ‘Old European’ culture located?  Between c7000 and c3500BC the inhabitants of this region developed a much more complex social organisation than their western and northern neighbours. In the Goddesses & Gods of Old Europe, this area is designated as extending from the Aegean and Adriatic, including the islands of Sicily and Crete, as far north as Czechoslovakia, southern Poland, the western Ukraine and parts of Anatolia.  Suggesting that the earliest possible representations were those prehistoric ‘Venus’ figurines found from across Western Europe to Siberia – all sharing the same characteristics of pendulous breasts, sagging stomachs and huge buttocks; but more importantly the heads are small and featureless, i.e., without identity.

Some of the earliest mythical stories pay tribute to an ancient Mother-Goddess whose fertility and abundance give nourishment to a culture. Whether a life-giving goddess like Mesopotamian Ishtar, or a physically ample prehistoric female Venus of Willendorf, these sacred women were recognized for their powers of creation and survival. Portrayals of these goddesses typically show them as well-endowed, rotund, healthy, with an emphasis on their gender traits.

  • Venus of Willendorf – She symbolizes the nurturing and support that mother-hood creates. She is fat, showing her abundant life-energy. This sculpture of a so-called Venus – because of her exaggerated breasts and hips – was probably used as a fertility fetish. Fertility and hunting were essential components of survival during the nomadic, Paleolithic era … and she’s become quite an icon in modern age – even being recreated in colossal scale out of metal for a shopping Mall in Latvia!
  • Venus of Lespugue is a famous prehistoric female nude found near Lespugue which also shows an exaggerated female body. Made from reindeer horn, the form is different from the Willendorf example as it is more abstracted as a series of rounded balloon or grape type forms. Both though emphasis her female shape and de-emphasize her arms as they rest as thin shapes across her breasts.

In reality, almost all Neolithic goddesses are composite images with an accumulation of traits from the pre-agricultural and agrarian eras. Those ‘buxom wenches’ with their massive thighs, breasts and buttocks that suggest a prehistoric society weaned on junk food, or suffering from a thyroid dysfunction were only one aspect of the goddess. In other sculptures of the time we see lithe, elegant figures of the Cycladic and Stargazer imagery, and the mysterious female hands of the Paleothithic cave paintings.

Here we have multiple engraved and painted images of female sexual organs, animals and geometric figures discovered in southern France that are believed to be the first known wall art, created some 37,000 years ago.  Since this site, Abri Castanet in southern France, is very close to Chauvet, it is likely that the artists in both cases came from what is known as the Aurignacian culture, which existed until about 28,000 years ago. Additional Aurignacian artwork, however, clearly represents female sexual organs. The Venus of Hohle Fels, for example, is an ivory figurine dating to at least 35,000 to 40,000 years ago, according to Nicholas Conard, a paleoanthropologist at the University of Tubingen who reported the find. The figurine, found in a southwestern cave in Germany, depicts a woman with what Conard described as ‘large projecting breasts’ and a pronounced vulva and labia majora visible between the woman’s open legs.

Another surprising revelation is that much of the cave art dating back to the Paleolithic indicates much of it was done by women, not men as is commonly believed. Anthropologist, Dean Snow has been studying ancient handprints in caves at the behest of National Geographic for nearly a decade. It began, he says, after reading about work done by geologist John Manning – he’d found that average finger lengths in people vary by gender. Men tend to have longer ring fingers than index fingers for example, while the opposite is true for women. Some time later, he reports, he was looking at pictures of cave art and noticed that the fingers on the hands appeared to conform to Manning’s description of female hands. That set him off on a voyage of discovery.

He began looking at cave art in a new way, and noted that differences between gender finger length in Paleolithic people was more pronounced than it is in modern humans who have more overlap.  The cave art under review is early examples of hand stencils, where the person making them placed their hand against a wall then blew paint at it (through a straw or directly from their mouth) to create an outline.  Up until recently most scientists have assumed cave art was most likely done by men – the depictions of women and animals being hunted seemed to sum up the life of hunters, the male half of a hunter-gatherer society. That idea has slowly been changing as archaeologists have begun to take a closer look. Biologist Dale Guthrie, for example, conducted a study of the hand art and concluded that they were most likely made by adolescent boys. Snow theorized that if women were doing most of the cave art, it was possible they played a larger, more important role in how hunter-gatherer societies functioned than has been thought.

It is obvious from earliest times that lots of things were changing when it came to shaping the forms of history.  Images of the Nile Goddess are from the earliest period in Egyptian history before the time of the Pharaohs, called the Predynasitc Period (c.3500-3400 BC). This Egyptian fertility goddess raises her arms upward gesturing to the sky as perhaps part of a ritual. She has a bird-shaped face, narrow waist, small breasts, and elongated arms with rounded hand ends. Originating in a different country than the other European fertility goddesses, this Egyptian statue displays a dramatically different female body. She has a spherical shape from her hips down without definitive legs or feet. Her breasts are more size appropriate for her figure. Yet, her face is not human, nor are her arms, more closely aligning her with the spirit and powers of a bird.

During the period between 3200 and 2000 BC, the small Cycladic islands in the Aegean became home to a flourishing pre-Greek culture, with the most prominent craft being stone-cutting, especially marble sculpture. The abundance of high quality, white marble on the islands, encouraged its wide use for the creation of a wide range of artifacts. Among these, Cycladic statues were the most distinctive because of the great numbers in which they are found, and the significance they held for their owners.  The majority of Cycladic figurines show women, nude with the arms folded over the belly and the long feet, soles slopping downwards. We do not know whether they were meant to show mortals or deities, but in the absence of any other suggestion, probably symbolized the worship of the ‘Mother Goddess’. In this case, the statues may have been conceived as representations of the Goddess, or companions to her.

And, more than 5,000 years ago, in what is now modern Turkey, Stone Age sculptors were carving small, sleek, surprisingly modern-looking human figures. With their heads tilted back, eyes staring upward to the sky, these statues are known as ‘stargazers’. Only about 30 are known to exist, including Statuette of a Woman: ‘The Stargazer’  at the Cleveland Museum of Art. One of the earliest sculptures of the human figure in the museum’s collection, this example is even rarer as it is one of the few that is whole and unbroken.

‘Although diminutive in size, Stargazer has a monumentality that belies her 6 ¾-inch height. In form she is pure and simple and highly stylized. She is recognizably human but only in the barest sense. Her oversized and oval-shaped head is tilted dramatically backward and sits on a slender bird-like neck. Her nose is an elongated ridge, and small, circular eyes are done in the slightest of relief. She has no mouth. Her gender is made evident by the incised lines in the pelvic area. These same lines define her legs until you reach the feet, which are held tightly together at the figure’s narrowest point. She is carved out of translucent marble that emulates soft flesh when polished, adding to the mystical quality of the figure.’ [Cleveland Museum of Art]

And that feeling of ‘faceless’ wonder trickles down to the present day, causing the Curator at the CMA to comment about that fascinating Stargazer image: “All we can do is speculate on the creative and spiritual forces that created this beautiful and mystical figure that symbolises our search for the divine.” But, because of the way we’ve been schooled in the art of witchcraft, Old Craft witches are more likely to ‘see’ their goddess figure in terms of the Stargazer;while contemporary paganism appears to favour the predominantly medievalist forms of Burne-Jones and Rossetti.

 Nevertheless, what all these primitive images share a distinctive feature of a strong but featureless face: the image remains hidden because we are deliberately prevented from seeing the true face of this Primal Goddess.  A concept that was later rejuvenated with the replacing of the sculpted face of Cybele with … ‘a certain [black meteorite] stone of no great size, which could be carried in a man’s hand without exerting any pressure on him, dusky black in colour, uneven with some edges projecting, and which we all see today placed in that very image in lieu of a face, rough and uncut, giving to the image a countenance by no means life-like …’ [Arnobius, c255-330AD]

The sacred stone of Pessinus (the agalma diipetes as it is tellingly called) is exemplary.  In 204BC this small and light-black meteorite, which was regarded as the Great Mother, was brought to Rome and, encased in silver, was substituted for the mouth (or face) of the statue of Cybele. It is in the unworked stone itself that the divinity of the image is believed to reside.  When the stone is placed in an anthropomorphic setting or when, in the case of the Pessinus meteorite, it takes the place of that which normally provides us with the most visible testimony to the life of the statue – the face – then we may clearly say that the goddess resides in that setting, too.

In Power of Images, Professor David Freedberg offers up the explanation that this sacred stone, like many others, was deliberately left unworked because it was in this state that its sacredness resided. ‘Shaping it would presumably have deprived it of its sacred content, or, at least diminished it; the only course left was to have it set in such a way as to emphasise or make plain its divine status.’   Even as late as Imperial Roman, when copies of Classic Greek beauty were demanded by the interior designers of the day, these enigmatic faceless matrons were still thought of as sacred.  ‘For 5th-century beholders that ‘face’ [of Demeter in the Museum at Cyrene] can hardly but have generated as association with the kinds of mysterious powers so often associated with unworked stones,’ Freedberg concluded.

This primitive imagery has, to a large degree, over-shadowed how we view archetypal goddesses and the women’s social role in pre-history.  The oldest named goddess, for example is not a mother figure.  Inanna was the ancient Sumerian goddess of love, sensuality, fertility, procreation, and also of war. She later became identified by the Akkadians and Assyrians as the goddess Ishtar, and further with the Hittite Sauska, and the Phoenician Astarte. Her power and provocation is almost always a defining characteristic in any of the tales told of her as she rose in prominence from a local vegetative deity of the Sumerian people to the Queen of Heaven and the most popular goddess in all of Mesopotamia.

The goddess appears in many ancient Mesopotamian myths, most notably where she brings knowledge and culture to the city of Uruk after receiving the gifts from the god of wisdom, Enki, while he is drunk. InninsagurraNinmesarra, and Inninmehusa, are three powerful hymns which influenced generations of Mesopotamians in their understanding of the goddess and elevated her status. Inanna’s personal ambition is atteste in a number of works which feature her. Dr. Jeremy Black writes: ‘Violent and lusting after power, she stands beside her favourite kings as they fight. Her journey to Eridu in order to carry away the sacred meh (gifts of civilization) and her descent to the underworld are both described as an intension to extend her power.’

Inanna is always depicted as a young woman, never as a mother or faithful wife, who is fully aware of her feminine power and confronts life boldly without fear of how she will be perceived by others, especially by men.  In The Epic of Gilgamesh, as Ishtar, she is seen as promiscuous, jealous, and spiteful. When she tries to seduce Gilgamesh, he lists her many other lovers who have all met with bad ends at her hands; enraged at his rejection, Inanna, then becomes central to the story of one of the greatest of ancient epics. 

Although some writers have claimed otherwise, Inanna was never seen as a Mother Goddess and one aspect of her personality is that of a goddess of love and sexual behaviour, but especially connected with extra-marital sex and – in a way which has not been fully researched – with prostitution. Inanna is not a goddess of marriage, nor is she a mother goddess. The so-called ‘sacred marriage’ in which she participates carries no overtones of moral implication for human marriages.  Rather, Inanna is an independent woman who does as she pleases, quite often without regard for consequences, and either manipulates, threatens, or tries to seduce others to fix the difficulties her behaviour creates. There are no poems, tales, or legends which in any way portray her differently – and none which depict her in the role of the Mother Goddess.

Strangely enough, the goddesses of the Old World were frequently associated with the big cats – and lions in particular.   Cultural depictions of lions were known in European, African and Asian  countries and have been an important symbol for humans for tens of thousands of years. The earliest graphic representations feature lions as organized hunters with great strength, strategies, and skills. In later depictions of human cultural ceremonies, lions were often used symbolically and may have played significant roles in magic, as deities, or close association with deities, and served as intermediaries and clan identities.  For example:

  • Inanna is often shown in the company of a lion, denoting courage, and sometimes even riding a lion as a sign of her supremacy over the ‘king of beasts’.
  • Artemis in her role as putnia theron – ‘queen of the wild beasts’ – was associated with lions.  The Potnia Theron or Mistress of Animals is a widespread motif in ancient art from the Mediterranean world and the ancient Near East, showing a central human, or human-like, female figure who grasps two animals, one to each side.
  • Atargatis – her throne flanked by lions was the Syrian mother goddess also venerated in Asia Minor and Greece during the Hellenistic-Roman period.
  • The Egyptians had several goddesses who were associated with lions, with the most well-known being Bastet and Sekhmet.  Mehit, Triphis and Pachet were a localized deities. Urthekau  – ‘she who is rich in magic’ – was a personification of the mysterious supernatural powers, which the Egyptians imagined as being inherent in the crown.  The lion-headed-crown-goddess dwelt in the State sanctuary and could figure as an epithet for other goddesses.
  • The Hurrians were a people of the Bronze Age Near East and two of their principal goddesses – Hebat and Sauska – were depicted with lions.
  • Kades was a Canaanite goddess shown standing naked on a lion.
  • Cybele – was shown in art in a chariot drawn by lions and/or panthers.

Nearer to home, one Highland legend tells of the Cat Sidhe, a fairy cat, believed to be a witch in disguise. Reputed to be untameable, the ‘British tiger’, as it is sometimes known, has an honoured place in Highland culture. Early on in Scottish history, Caithness and Sutherland formed the Pictish province, Cataibh, meaning land of the Cat Tribe or Catti. Caithness still retains an obvious echo of that name. The Duke of Sutherland’s Gaelic title is Morair Chat, meaning ‘The Great Man of the Cats’. There is a cat in the clan crest, and their motto is Sans Peur (‘Without fear’). Other clans have similar themes, reflecting a respect for this animal’s fierce spirit. The Clan Mackintosh crest also features a feisty-looking cat, with the motto ‘Touch not the cat bot (bot meaning ‘without’) a glove’, and for the Clan MacGillivray the motto is ‘Touch not this cat’.

The wildcat was a totem of a number of other early Celtic tribes, including the Irish ‘cat-heads’ – possibly warriors who wore cat skin over their battle helmets. More often than not, the feisty little creatures drive off their foes, sometimes inflicting nasty lacerations in the process. According to the Scottish Wildcat Association, large dogs, park rangers, and ill-prepared veterinarians are among the most common recipients of ‘non-hunting’ wildcat attacks but there is no reason why this fascinating creature can’t be adopted as a power/totem animal in traditional witchcraft.

Many newcomers to the Coven have a problem with viewing the Old Lass in these abstract forms and often do not understand that she is no less potent because we cannot see her face, or she’s not wearing a posh frock!  For us, both magically and mystically, the Old Lass doesn’t have any tangible form and like the ‘light-black meteorite, which was regarded as the Great Mother’ in ancient times, we consider that the world of Nature in its unworked form is the state in which her sacredness resides. Re-shaping it into a recognisable or more pleasing aspect would deprive our goddess of her sacredness (or, at least diminish it) and the only course left is to have it set in our minds in such a way as to emphasize or make plain her divine status against the raw framework of the forests and mountains.

The reason for the great number and variety of Old European ‘goddess’ images lies in the fact that this symbolism is lunar and chthonic, celestial and terrestrial, built around the understanding that life on earth is in eternal transformation, in constant and rhythmic change between creation and destruction, birth and death. Therefore, the Primal Goddess is seen in everything and from the earliest of times has been associated with a variety of creatures in a host of manifestations. It is an inescapable fact that this ‘hidden’ Primal Goddess of Old Europe remains a tangible power that can be tapped into and channelled for magical, mystical and spiritual reasons. It is the elusive power that is released into us at the moment of Initiation when we come face to face with deity and we may look upon the face of the Primal Goddess for the first and last time, when kindred calls to kindred and blood calls to blood.

Nevertheless, for most followers of the Elder Faith the Primal Goddess remains a sigil and symbol, allegory and metaphor, and we learn how to follow her by respecting the world she has created. She is Creatrix, Death-Wielder and Regeneratrix – the eternal triple deity. And the reason we say she is too terrible to look upon is due to the realisation that in her eyes, our lives are worth no more than that of an ant or hover-fly. And, as and when we meet her face to face, it is with the understanding that she is not the benevolent Mother-figure of popular paganism; she is a disinterested but not dysfunctional being whom we approach with awe and reverence

I Hear Water Dreaming …

by Melusine Draco

I love the sound of water – whether it’s rainfall; the soft gurgle of a woodland stream tripping over the stones in its bed; or the thunderous roar of a waterfall crashing onto rocks – the sensation is an assault on the senses.  The first two are the soothing, dreamy caress of Nature’s whispering; the third the dynamic power of Nature screaming out loud for the sheer hell of it, especially after a recent downpour.  Lakes, of course, aren’t known for their ‘voices’ but for those who stop and listen there is always the sound of  water lapping on the inland lake shore and the gentle wind blowing across the surface that periodically builds and then dies away, causes the reeds to rustle in its wake.  This sacred landscape is never silent.

Ovid’s Fasti, ‘There is a lake, girt with the dark wood of the valley of Aricia, sanctified by an ancient feeling of awe … There was a grove below the Aventine dark with the shade of holm-oaks, and when you saw it, you might say ‘there is a spirit there’ …

H C Hart [Climbing in the British Isles 1895] was much impressed by my local Lough Muskry, the largest freshwater lake in the Galtees, waxing lyrical and valedictory “… Still grander, however, are the cliffs above Lough Muskry. These tower to a height of about 1,200 ft in great terraces and vegetated walls above the north and north-east ends of the lake …  Lough Curra is the highest lake in the range that ‘frequently and inoffensively burps, giggling at its edges, where the lower, naked slopes of the Galtimoor have plunged their extremities … Things jump in the lake. Indiscernible. Could be fish, could be joy …’  And last but not least, there’s Muskry’s hidden little sister-lough of Farbreaga, that has been described by a hill-walker as ‘like having an out-of-body experience, especially when you add the dramatic conglomerate rock formations and the dizzying views down the shaded cliffs of the cwm to the frozen lake below’. On the flanks of these hills and on the mist-shrouded summits of the mountains, we find megalithic tombs, dolmens and stone forts that take us back to the dawn of pre-history.  And we might also still say: ‘There is a spirit here …’

Water was sacred in all primal cultures and every pool and spring was believed to have its own resident spirit.  Water, however, is rarely still and is ‘created’ by the global water cycle that draws moisture from the freshwater lakes and salty oceans in the form of evaporation.  It circulates on air currents as water vapour and condenses to form clouds. Most of this water precipitates back into the oceans, but some of it falls on the land as rain or snow and from there makes its way downhill to the sea.  It moves as rivers and glaciers, and it sinks into the soil and rocks in a great recirculation. Around and around the water has cycled for four-billion years, in trickle and torrent, all the while eroding and shaping the land.

In the 2008 UNESCO lecture – Water: Religion, Mythology, Art and Beauty – we are reminded that water plays a central role in many religions and beliefs around the world.  It is the source of life; represents rebirth and cleanses and purifies the body with these two qualities conferring a highly symbolic – even sacred – status to water.  Water is a key element in ceremonies and religious rites and often seen as a divine agency since ‘sacred’ water is never passive – because it is considered to have powers that can transform the world.  Rivers, rain, ponds, lakes and glaciers are some of the forms water may take when interpreted and incorporated into cultural and religious spheres.  It is seen as a living and spiritual matter, working as mediator between human and gods – and often represents the border between this and Otherworld.

The relationship of water to millions of humans is guided by tradition and belief rather than scientific learning because it unceasingly changes shape and transforms itself, therefore becoming the symbol of fertility that can be found in all myths and beliefs. Water is also seen as possessing medicinal virtues since some are credited as having miraculous healing powers.

A sacred spring, or holy well, is a small body of water emerging from underground and revered either in a religious or superstitious context, sometimes both. Sacred wells and springs are usually depicted as originating in the Otherworld – that parallel dimension whose inhabitants have the power to control the natural forces of this world. Such sacred water sources are also often linked to the fruit of certain trees, such as the hazel and alder, and groves of these trees would have created a nature temple around the spring.

The lore and mythology of ancient Greece was rich with sacred springs, among the most important bring, the Corycian – located on the slopes of Mount Parnassus; the Pierian – sacred to the Muses; and the Castalian at Delphi all of which are still associated with their ancient deities. Another deity may be found at the healing springs at Buxton where the name Aquae Arnemetiae means ‘the waters of the goddess who lived in the sacred grove’ – a concept that united two sacred Celtic concepts.

In medieval Europe, holy wells were usually pagan sacred sites that later became Christianized and the term ‘holy well’ is commonly employed to refer to any water source of limited size (i.e. not a lake or river, but including pools and natural springs) that has some significance in local folklore. This can take the form of a particular name, an associated legend, or the attribution of healing qualities to the water through the numinous presence of its guardian spirit or saint, or a ceremony or ritual, focusing on the well’s siting. 

Each spring, therefore, has its own patron often with its own genius loci – a protective spirit of place – and every place has its own unique qualities, not only in terms of its physical makeup, but of how it is perceived by a visitor. And this is what can give a place its own ambiance – an atmosphere that can send a shiver of fear along our spine, or an inexplicable sense of peace and well-being.  It should also be stressed, however, that the genius loci is under no obligation to make us welcome just because we label ourselves ‘pagan’ and see ourselves as simpatico with the Old Ways. In contemporary usage, genius loci usually refers to a location’s distinctive atmosphere, or a ‘spirit of place’, rather than necessarily a guardian spirit.  Therefore if our intention is not ethical or virtuous, then the protective spirit is within its rights to make us feel unwelcome in this sacred place.

It is not uncommon for a student to ask why they’ve experienced feelings of rejection or even malevolence in what they thought would be a haven of pagan tranquility – and can’t wait to get away from the place.  It seems cruel to suggest that the guardian took against a member of their party but this could be the simple truth.  It’s not a personal thing but it could be that one of the visitors was manifesting a certain kind of negative energy that the guardian found unacceptable.  Many have reported the same type of rejection when visiting ancient woodland and there’s nothing to be done about it other than to leave with as little fuss as possible and accept the guardian’s dismissal with good grace!  Persist and we may receive a sharp slap in rebuke for our presumptuousness.

Other holy wells are located in areas of natural beauty, often in groves of trees, in hollows in the landscape, at the edge of waysides, or at points where borders and boundaries run or meet.

A certain ritual, known as a ‘round’ or ‘station’ is performed in order to receive a requested favour or cure of a particular ailment. This involves particular prayers being said while walking around the well an odd number of times in the direction of the sun, and drinking or bathing in the waters at specific intervals. To complete the round, a rag, symbolising the ailment, is tied to the sacred ‘rag tree’ – usually an ash, hawthorn, holly, or oak. If the round is completed in reverse in the name of a third party, a curse is placed on that person, but worse consequences are reputed to befall the person who performs such an act if it is not deserved.  It is generally reported that the water from a holy well cannot be brought to boil, and the wood from its sacred tree cannot be made to burn. [Old Moore’s Almanack]

Further, for many wells the appropriate or most efficacious time of day for the visit was specified, with dawn or just before sunrise being the most usual, as was the direction of approach to the well and the direction and number of times of circumnambulation. One of the commonest stipulations was the need for silence, if not for the entire duration of the ritual or visit to the well then at least for a substantial part of it. Thus to obtain the healing of a particular well the patient may have to visit at dawn on Beltane morning, approach from the east and walk three times deosil around the well in silence before speaking the required words of prayer, drinking the water from the specified vessel and finally making the specified offerings. At wells where the patient had to arrive before or at dawn, it was almost universal that he had to have finished his business and be out of sight of the well before actual sunrise. Sometimes the patient had to wipe the afflicted part of the body with a rag dipped in the water, or arrive at the site with a rag bound round the relevant part of the body and the rag was subsequently hung on a nearby tree to rot. [White Dragon Magazine]

These practices represent such an integral part of our pagan heritage that it would be morally wrong for us to ignore the customs associated with the place … Nevertheless, an over-enthusiastic application of this tradition in scattered sites around Scotland, England and Ireland, and other places where the pagan roots still show through the modern landscape, we may catch a glimpse of a spooky sight: trees weighed down with rotting clothing and rags clustered around a spring. Known as ‘clootie wells’, this ritual dates back to Celtic belief in the cures of water spirits, and continues as a source of spiritual healing.

While the ritual varies around the different clootie wells – named for the Scottish word clootie referring to cloth – the principle is that by leaving a rag on the tree, before or after cleansing a tortured part of our body with it using water from the spring, we will receive some relief from illness or pain as the rag disintegrates in the forest. The sites were traditionally visited before sunrise, and on sacred festival days. The efficacy of such curing processes varied but might not be complete until the rags had completely deteriorated.

In some places, human hair, coins, whole items of children’s clothing, and other offerings join the ripped bits of fabric, sometimes marked with written messages. It’s considered very bad luck to take any of the offerings, although there’s been concern that the quantity of rags is hurting the trees and many have died as a result of the weight. Passing visitors, having no belief in the custom or of our pagan ways are despoiling these sacred sites by leaving their rubbish behind – and not in the spirit of offering!

Souterrain (from French sous terrain, meaning ‘under ground’) is a name given by archaeologists to a type of underground structure associated mainly with the European Atlantic Iron Age.  These structures appear to have been brought northwards from Gaul during the late Iron Age and played an important role in Elder Faith belief; often containing rude shallow stone basins that were believed to hold water.  The idea of the curative property of water contained in depressions in a rock was widespread – including that trapped in tree cavities or depressions where branches meet.

Generally speaking, however, it is well known that water has soothing effects and it is not surprising that meditation and water are considered a natural combination in the Buddhist tradition, where it is the symbol of serenity, purity, and clarity of thought. Calm, still, spring water becomes a mirror reflecting everything that surrounds it, and this helps as a guide to focus inward. Rippling lake water reflects on how moods affect actions and how those actions affect everything around; whereas a waterfall produces thunderous reverberations of an unrelenting force.

These images we can find in our own sacred landscapes – whether it be by the Chalice Well at Glastonbury, the glacial lakes of the Galtee Mountains, the Henrhyd woodland falls in the Brecon Beacons – or wherever we live in the world.  Take a moment to sit and listen and we, too, may hear the water dreaming in the sacred landscape … wherever kindred calls to kindred and blood calls to blood.

The belief in the sacredness of life-giving water and the sources of rivers, springs and wells extends from prehistory to the present day.  The sacred well or spring was an ancient concept firmly established long before the Celts and Christianity arrived in the British Isles and was so firmly entrenched in the indigenous mind that the Church felt it more provident to adopt the practice rather than make any attempt to suppress it. As a result the majority of those famous ‘holy wells’ in existence today were assigned an appropriate saint merely in order to strip away their earlier pagan associations.

We can chart the importance of water to our Ancestors simply by the incredible amount of precious artifacts that have been discovered in watery places.  Votive offerings are defined as ‘objects deposited, without the intention of recovery in a sacred place for broadly religious purposes in order to gain favour with supernatural forces’. These offerings have been described in historical Roman era and Greek sources, although similar acts continue into the present day, for example in traditional Catholic culture and, arguably, in the modern day practice of tossing coins into a wishing well or fountain. [The Deposition of Votive Offering in Watery Places]

In Europe votive deposits date to the Neolithic era, with polished axe hoards, reaching a peak in the late Bronze Age. High status artifacts such as swords and spearheads were more commonly cast into bodies of water or peat bogs, from where they could not possibly have been recovered. Often objects were broken, thereby ‘killing’ the objects to put them even further beyond utilitarian use before deposition, which is why the purposeful discarding of valuable items such as swords and spearheads is understood to have had ritual overtones. Numerous items have since been found in rivers, lakes and former wet-places by metal-detectorists, members of the public and archaeologists.

The pre-historian Richard Bradley makes a strong case in his book, A Passage of Arms, for seeing nearly all metal objects of this period found in lakes and rivers as being religious offerings, especially since many votive sites are associated with the remains of wooden platforms or causeways from which the offerings were thrown.  For example: several finds from the River Severn suggest that the river had a role in the prehistoric period as a place for votive offerings, since Bronze Age weapons have been dredged from the river at various locations near Worcester.  Not to mention …

‘The Sweet Track – an ancient causeway in the Somerset Levels that was constructed c.3807BC and is the second-oldest timber trackway discovered in the British Isles, dating to the Neolithic period. The track extended across the now largely drained marsh between what was then an island at and a ridge of high ground at Shapwick, a distance close to 1.2 miles. The track is one of a network that once crossed the Somerset Levels. Various artifacts and prehistoric finds, including a jadeitite ceremonial axe head, have been found in the peat bogs along its length.Wooden artefacts found at the site include paddles, a dish, arrow shafts, parts of four hazel bows, a throwing axe, yew pins, digging sticks, a mattock, a comb, toggles, and spoon fragment. Finds made from other materials, such as flint flakes, arrowheads, and a chipped flint axe (in mint condition) have also been made over time.’ [Water: A Spiritual Journey]

Similarly, at Flag Fen near Peterborough, Francis Pryor has excavated an extraordinary timber causeway and a massive quantity of Bronze Age and Iron Age weaponry. In the surrounding waters of Flag Fen votive offerings have been found, e.g., daggers broken in half placed on top of each other. This supports the theory that Flag Fen was a site involved in religious rites, as great wealth was being thrown into the water. One theory is that these were being given as votive offerings to the gods, to ask them to stop the environmental changes which were occurring around that time. Amongst the daggers and jewellery, there were a number of small, white beach pebbles. These were not natural to the local area which suggests that people travelled from afar to give offerings to their gods.

The Llyn Cerrig Bach excavation on Anglesey revealed a large votive hoard of Iron Age metalwork – swords, spears, chariot fittings, horse bridles, cauldrons, a trumpet, currency bars, animal bones and two sets of slave chains, all of which had been deposited over many years. Many of these items had also been deliberately broken. Some of the items appear to have been of local manufacture, but many originate from southern England, suggesting that the fame of Llyn Cerrig Bach as a holy site may have spread well beyond the immediate area; it is also possible that the items were traded, or plunder captured in warfare by the local tribes. Like Flag Fen, it is believed that there may have been a wooden causeway between a rock platform and a small island in the middle of the lake.

One of the most significant pieces of ancient Celtic military equipment found in Britain, the Battersea Shield is decorated in the typically La Tène style, consisting of circles and spirals. As a decorative piece it would not have been an effective shield in combat and, as it shows no signs of battle damage, it is believed that the shield was cast into the river as a votive offering (to stave off threat of Roman invasion perhaps?) and was never used in battle. The bronze shield inlaid with enamel dates from the beginning of the 1st c.AD, was discovered in the river Thames at Battersea (Middlesex).

In Ireland, many discoveries of this type have also been made in bogs. In the course of the 18th and 19th centuries, at least sixty-three types of swords, spearheads, gold bowls and gold dress-fasteners, dated 900-600 BC, were discovered in the Bog of Cullen. From the Bog of Dowris, an impressive 7th-century BC hoard of swords, chapes, spearheads, socketed axe-heads, knives and gouges, razors, buckets, cauldrons and horns, was dredged.

Similarly, on the Continent, a large assemblage of weaponry, jewellery, tools and perishable organic materials (dating from the 3rd century BC onwards), was retrieved from Lake Neuchâtel in Switzerland.  In Duchcov (Czech Republic), a huge 4th-century BC bronze cauldron containing about 2,500 La Tène jewels was discovered in a thermal spring called Obří pramen – ‘The Giant’s Spring’. The archaeological discoveries of hoards in lakes are all evidence in support of the accounts of the Greek geographer Strabo and the Roman historian Justinus, who relate that the Volcae Tectosages had flung a huge treasure composed of silver and gold into the Lake of Toulouse to appease the gods’ wrath. It was said that the Roman consul Quintus Servilius Caepio, who seized and plundered the city in 106AD and fished up the gold in the sacred lake, was doomed to a tragic end.

The deposition of votive offerings is attested in other watery places, too, and archaeological discoveries have shown that hoards were generally dropped at specific areas, such as fords. The only difference between river and lake/bog deposits is, as Aidan O’Sullivan explains, that ‘weaponry is dominant in rivers, while ceremonial items (cauldron, horns, gold) tend to be mostly found in bogs’. In Gaul, a significant number of Late Bronze Age swords were discovered in the River Loire, and numerous Iron Age spearheads and swords were recovered from the River Saône, more specifically at fords. From the River Thames in Britain, spearheads, swords, pieces of armour and defensive weapons have been dredged since the 19th century. These include the two Wandsworth shield bosses, dating to the 3rd-1st century BC; the 1st-century BC horned helmet and the bronze Battersea shield inlaid with enamel. Similarly, in Ireland, swords, dirks and rapiers, dating from the Bronze and Iron Ages, were found in the beds of the Rivers Shannon, Bann, Barrow and Érne at particular sites.

Archaeological studies have revealed that the deposition of these artifacts in these ‘wet places’ was a particularly widespread custom in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Aidan O’Sullivan, speaking of Ireland and Britain, shows that the Ages can be differentiated with regard to the evolution of the practice. ‘In the Middle Bronze Age, it was mainly weapons and tools, such as dirks, rapiers and axes, which were deposited in rivers. From the Late Bronze Age, the ritual phenomenon developed considerably: hoards of weapons, tools, personal ornaments and musical instruments were placed in watery places. In the Iron Age, the deposition of swords, spearheads, spear-butts, jewels, bronze cauldron and horse trappings predominated.’

What emerges from the comprehensive analysis by Richard Bradley in Passage of Arms is that the deposition of weaponry and personal ornaments in rivers, lakes and bogs is not meaningless and insignificant. The large number of artifacts consistently deposited in specific areas of rivers, lakes and bogs, from the Bronze Age onwards, shows that those items were not accidentally dropped or lost. This is all the more probable since many of the metal materials had been previously damaged or destroyed before being deposited. Destroying the weapons before offering them to the gods was a practice known from prehistory and especially during Celtic times.

But to return to the subject in hand, as Ian Bradley reminds us, ‘wells, springs, pools, lakes and rivers have been regarded as especially sacred sites, the dwelling places of deities, gateways to the next world and sources of healing and rejuvenation’ … so let’s go out and reconnect with these spirits of the landscape …

Waterfalls are commonly formed in the upper course of a river in steep mountains. Because of their landscape position, many waterfalls occur over bedrock fed by a small contributing area, so may be ephemeral and flow only during rainstorms or significant snowmelt. The further downstream, the more perennial a waterfall can be. Waterfalls can have a wide range of widths and depths.  At the base of most waterfalls the waters erode a plunge pool, which is enlarged by the scouring action of the rock fragments from the cliff face.

My first encounter with a ‘real’ waterfall was at the Rhine Falls while on a school trip to Switzerland in the late 1950s. The Falls were formed in the last ice age, approximately 14,000 to 17,000 years ago, by erosion-resistant rocks narrowing the riverbed. In 1840, author Mary Shelley had visited them while on a tour of Europe with her son and described her visit in a travel narrative that she published in 1844, Rambles in Germany and Italy: “A portion of the cataract arches over the lowest platform, and the spray fell thickly on us, as standing on it and looking up, we saw wave, and rock, and cloud, and the clear heavens through its glittering ever-moving veil. This was a new sight, exceeding anything I had ever before seen; however, not to be wet through, I was obliged quickly to tear myself away.”

Waterfalls are a favourite subject of artists and photographers alike. Discussing painting and literature, Brian J. Hudson points out that ‘the popularity of waterfalls appears to have grown considerably between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries [in] the period of the Grand Tour.’  The force of the water has a sense of energy often missing from streams or even rivers. So it’s hardly surprising that legends might spring up about these wonderful sites. And people love to visit them because they have amazed, terrified and beguiled mankind since the dawn of time. They’ve attracted lovers, explorers and treasure hunters for centuries … some of whom never made it home.

As Ian Bradley points out, however: ‘The religions of the Far East often combine veneration of specific water sites with a more general emphasis on water’s spiritual symbolism and message.  The Japanese make pilgrimages to waterfalls and gaze for hours at the unruffled surface of a temple pond.  This is because waterfalls are seen as places of spiritual power. On some levels, most people can sense this to be true and for those who really feel, waterfalls provide not just a sense of wonder, but a way to expand our own spirits. For the animist, given to direct perception of the spiritual world just beyond our everyday sight, waterfalls provide both personal proof and further opportunity to sense the world of the spirit. After all, animism is not about belief so much as experience.  It is a truism of the animist world that liminality brings a glimpse of what lies beyond the everyday. This, then, would help explain why waterfalls have such awesome power.

In the Japanese Shinto tradition, waterfalls are held as sacred and standing under them is believed to purify, since they often relate to a great release of emotion, rejuvenation and renewal of spirit. Misogi is the practice of ritual purification by washing the entire body and in Kyoto, people douse themselves under Kiyomizu Temple’s Otowa no taki (Sound-of-Wings) waterfall, although the majority of visitors drink from the waters rather than plunging into them! Every year, people take pilgrimages to sacred waterfalls, lakes and rivers, either alone or in small groups, to perform misogi. Mount Ontake, the Kii mountain range and Mount Yoshino are but a few examples of ancient and well known areas for misogi in Japan.

Misogi is also used in some forms of martial arts, especially aikido, to prepare the mind for training and to learn how to develop one’s energy centre. The founder of aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, regularly used this form of meditation to complement his training and search for perfection.  Participants enter the waterfall while continuously chanting the phrase harai tamae kiyome tamae rokkon shōjō –  asking the kami to wash away the impurity from the six elements that make up the human being, the five senses and the mind. In the foothills of Mt Ontake there are waterfalls under which the faithful may stand. A huge network of streams and rivers crisscross Otaki’s rugged landscape, and there are numerous waterfalls around the village. Kiyotaki and Shintaki Falls are the best known, and have been sacred places of purification for centuries. The currents that feed them flow from Mt. Ontake itself.

Takigyo, or waterfall purification, consists of standing beneath the falling flow. Both Kiyotaki and Shintaki falls are around 30 meters high. Traditionally, takigyo involved cleansing the mind of extraneous thought to enhancing the clarity of meditation. It also held symbolic value as a kind of mountain ‘baptism’, joining the dusty village below to the pristine heights. In the old days pilgrims could only begin climbing Mt. Ontake after 100 days of austerities at the falls, accompanied by the appropriate rituals and long periods of meditation. These days, the practitioners of Ontake-san’s mountain faith still visit the falls for their rituals, if for shorter periods.

Shintaki drops down from a height in a concentrated jet, in front of a dark cave full of inscribed stones.  The force of the water on the bare head of the believer is stunning.  Three Heart Sutras, I was told, is the longest anyone may stand it … Every season has its own draw.  In spring the falls thunder with melt-water from the mountain. Particularly in the summertime, don’t be surprised if you encounter groups of white-clad pilgrims performing austerities. You’ll hear them chanting their incantations as you approach.  Autumn is gorgeous with the colours of the changing leaves, and in the winter, enormous ice pillars form. Visit the waterfalls at night during this time to see them lit up in their ice-palace splendor. [The Catalpa Bow]

Lakes with a more magical nature are often those with a more immediate mystique that are deeply engrained in the culture and folklore of a local people rather than a national psyche.  One instance immediately springs to mind.  The road to reach Llyn y Fan Fach may be bumpy, and the walk up to the ridge slightly steep, but what a view over this magnificent body of water, overlooked by the majestic Black Mountain, once we reach the summit of Picws Du in the Brecon Beacons! The glacial lake is the subject of a myth told in the medieval Mabinogion collection. An enchanted lady is said to have arisen from the lake and gone on to marry a local farmer, only for their marriage to be thwarted by magic and misunderstanding. The heroine fled back to her lake and the farmer had to bring up his three sons alone; the trio went on to become great healers known today as the Physicians of Myddfai …

In all truthfulness, water spirits are not the most ‘people friendly’ of entities and although encounters with them can be highly enriching, they can also be downright dangerous. A water spirit is a kind of supernatural being found in the myth and folklore of many cultures: and water is the greatest shape-shifter known in this dimension; many use its magical properties to perform miraculous effects.  In Welsh folklore the Gwragedd Annwn are beautiful female faerie who live beneath lakes and rivers and are counted among the Tylwyth Teg or Welsh faere folk.  The legend of Llyn y Fan demonstrates the beneficial elements of dealing with such creatures – providing the rules are observed!

Archetypically for late medieval narrative, while out hunting in the forests (typically sites for magical encounters in faerie stories), Raymond, Count of Poitou, meets Mélusine sitting beside a fountain.  In discovering her by a water-source, should have suggested a connection between her and Otherworld but Raymond is so taken by her beauty and her amiable manners, he falls totally in love. Mélusine agrees to marry him, but on the condition he vows not to attempt to see her on Saturday when she goes into seclusion.   

With such ambivalence about Mélusine’s background and her activities on a Saturday tensions arose, possibly suspicions of infidelity were planted in Raymond’s mind. Ultimately he was overcome with curiosity and, spying through the keyhole, witnesses his wife’s metamorphosis as her lower body took on serpentine qualities.  Another bone of contention with the Count’s kinsmen focused on the fact that she attended church infrequently, and always left before the Mass. One day he had four of his men forcibly restrain her as she rose to leave the church. Mélusine evaded the men and clasping the two youngest of her sons and in full view of the congregation, carried them up into the air and out of the church through its highest window.

The chronicler Gerald of Wales reported that Richard I of England was fond of telling this tale – according to which he was a descendant of Mélusine. The Angevin legend told that the Count had not troubled to find out about her origins but after bearing him four sons, his wife’s behaviour began to trouble him. Mélusine and her younger sons were never seen again but one of the remaining was the ancestor, it was claimed, of the later Counts of Anjou and the Plantagenet Kings of England. Referring to this story, St Bernard once said of Henry Plantagenet and his race: ‘From the devil they came, to the devil they will go’.

It’s probably a human’s capability of drowning itself in two inches of water (enough to cover the mouth and nostrils) that had led to claims of supernatural deaths around natural expanses of water – particularly when it comes to children.  In Greek mythology, the Naiads are a type of female spirit, or nymph, presiding over fountains, wells, springs, streams, brooks and other bodies of fresh water.  The water nymph, associated with particular springs, was known all through Europe in places with no direct connection with Greece and surviving in the Celtic wells of northwest Europe that have since been rededicated to saints.

This is an extract from the limited title currently in preparation – Inner Court Witchcraft – by Melusine Draco as a companion volume to Round About the Cauldron Go … by Phillip Wright and Carrie West.

Nature Creates Her Own Wheel of the Year … all we have to do is follow it

In Traditional Witchcraft for Fields & Hedgerows , Melusine Draco looks at the importance for young witches to go rummaging about in the hedgerow and coming face to face with its inhabitants. This was the third in the Moon Books, Traditional Witchcraft series, which is slowly but surely making its way towards best-selling status. 

Many years ago, my friend and I passed those long, hot summer days of childhood roaming the surrounding fields and hedgerows. Then, we could disappear for hours, discovering the treasures of the season and enjoying the closeness of a silent companionship. Some sixty years and hundreds of miles apart, we still share those memories of knowing where to find the first flowerings, and close encounters with birds and animals of the hedge bank.  “Do you remember …” frequently crops up in letters and telephone conversations to recall to mind some indelible memory of a bank of spring celandines; the glimpse of a hunting stoat snaking through the undergrowth near the ruined barn; Easter violets; the chatter of nesting hedge sparrows, or more correctly ‘dunnock’, who often play foster parents to the cunning cuckoo.

Hedgerows were a prominent and distinctive feature of the landscape when I was a child, and the oldest were probably remnants of the continuous woodland that once covered most of the land. As villagers and landowners cleared the forest for agriculture, they would leave the last few feet of forest standing to mark the outer boundaries of their land.  A traditional witchlet instinctively knows that these boundaries have a special magical significance, especially at dawn or dusk when we encountered a tawny owl hunting along the hedge in the twilight – or ‘owl light’ as we called it.

On a much deeper level the ‘hedge’ refers to the hedgewitch’s boundary separating the mundane world from Otherworld.  The hedge also represents a physical and psychic protective boundary, separating spirit from human – thus hedgewitches are said to ‘hedge-ride’ by crossing the liminal space of the time between times.  While hedge-riding is seeing a resurgence in popularity, the practice itself is actually quite old with most modern practices based on historical texts with modern mistransliterations, interpretations and adaptions.

Some of our most ancient hedges are the remnants of such boundaries, perhaps even now still marking parish borders.  Hedges were also formed to enclose patches of land to contain livestock.  This would have been done close to a farm or village, and in many places, these small irregular enclosures can still be recognised by witches of today, as indications of old field patterns and ancient hedgerow.  The majority, however, were planted in the 18th and 19th centuries to enclose patches of land in order to establish ownership.  Nevertheless, the older the hedge, the more we feel we are walking in our ancestors’ footsteps as we search for magical and medicinal ingredients.  Probably the leaves of the hawthorn are the first wild vegetable country children learned to eat: widely known as ‘bread and cheese’ the young leaves have a pleasant nutty taste and we used to add them to our picnic sandwiches.

For both countrywomen and witches the hedge was extremely important. A veritable treasure house: a source of food, drink, medicine, shelter, fuel and dyes, while numerous superstitions arose around many hedgerow plants. The special plant community that makes up a mature hedgerow also offers a wider range of food for animals and birds than most deciduous woodland, making the hedge a very attractive habitat in winter. After feasting on the autumn harvest of elder and blackberries, birds turn to rosehips and haws, then sloes, and finally to ivy berries and this is where we become familiar with our totem animal or bird in its natural habitat. Here we often encountered a basking grass snake, or better still a shed skin that could be made into a witch’s garter.

The Romans introduced a large number of herbs to Britain, valuing them for their supposed supernatural powers, as well as culinary and medicinal uses … and many of these plants now grow profusely in the wild. By the Middle Ages, the use of herbs for magical purposes was commonplace, and every village had its own witch or cunning-woman. A medieval witch was an expert in the identification of wild herbs, and from the countryside surrounding her home she would gather the appropriate plants for scenting linen, flavouring sauces … or procuring an abortion. Herbs were so important in daily life that when people moved around the country, they took with them the plants and the superstitions surrounding them.

Dr Harold Selcon reminds us in The Physicians of Myddfai, that by the end of the 14th century a different class of medical herbalist was developing — the apothecaries — who purchased herbs collected from the countryside by wandering professional herb collectors, known as the ‘green men and women’. This occupation was a traditional one with a long history, and during the reign of Elizabeth I the ‘Wild Herb Act’ was passed, giving the ‘green-men’ the right to gather herbs and roots in wild uncultivated land. Nevertheless, prior to, and during the First and Second World Wars, Britain grew large quantities of its own medicinal herbs; while a significant quantity of wild herbs were gathered for commercial use. The ‘wild herb men’ finally went out of business in the early 1960s, although in December 1972, the East Anglian Magazine featured an article on one of the last men to gather wild plants for a living.

In fact, the use of common native plants in everyday home medicine is now almost obsolete, largely because it was mainly a DIY collection of first aid remedies, often passed on orally, rather than a written record. Although the growing pagan community has resulted in a resurgence of interest in these natural remedies, those who were fortunate in learning the language of the fields and hedgerows at an early age retain these early lessons in order to give a greater understanding of witchcraft in later life.   Those fields and hedgerows still provide a vast encyclopaedia for those with an active interest in Craft practice and the folklore handed down to us hides much more than it reveals.

Mélusine Draco’s Traditional Witchcraft series (including Traditional Witchcraft for Urban Living, Traditional Witchcraft for the Seashore, Traditional Witchcraft for Fields & Hedgerows, Traditional Witchcraft for Woods & Forests, Traditional Witchcraft & the Pagan Revival and Traditional Witchcraft and the Path to the Mysteries) is published by Moon-Books, an imprint of www.johnhuntpublishing in paperback and e-book format.  Also available from Amazon. 

Michael Howard | The Cauldron 
“The third book in this series approaches the subject from the premise that whether we live in the city or the countryside nature is all around us. According to the author, it is the natural world that can teach us how to be a witch and release the knowledge of the Old Ways … Overall this series is recommended as a safe introduction for absolute beginners looking for their first connect with a traditional type of witchcraft through the medium of folklore and naturalism.”

Deosil Dance Magazine 
“It is a fascinating and insightful book on the folklore of plants, weather lore, treelore, and nice recipes that are easy to follow. With nice gentle introductions into each of the seasons, it is a good book to give to newcomers & children alike who will be fascinated by the contents.”

The Secret People (extract)

This extract is taken from ‘The Parish Healer’ chapter under Old Wives’ Tales – a dismissive expression normally used to indicate that a supposed truth is actually a superstition to be ridiculed. Such ‘tales’ were considered to be unverified claims with exaggerated and inaccurate details, often focussing on ‘women’s concerns’, discouraging unseemly behaviour in children, or folk cures for ailments ranging from a headache to in-growing toenails.

Old Women’s Sayings was a song published on ‘Broadside’ by a number of 19th century printers, the earliest being John Pitts and James Catnach. A broadside was a large sheet of paper printed on one side only. They were usually posters announcing events or proclamations, or simply advertisements. Broadsides are difficult to date accurately since all the printers copied each other’s work as a matter of course, but the earliest versions seem to date from c.1835.

Draw near and give attention

And you shall hear in rhyme

The old women’s saying

In the olden time.

High and low, rich and poor

By daylight or dark

Are sure for to make

Some curious remark

With some foolish idea

Your brains they will bother

For some believes one thing

And some believes another.


These are odds and ends

And superstitious ways

The signs and tokens

Of my grandmother’s days.

The first thing you will see

At the house of rich or poor

To keep the witches out

A horseshoe’s o’er the door;

Bellows on the table

Cause a row by day and night

If there’s two knives across

You are sure to have a fight;

There’s a stranger in the grate

Or if the cat should sneeze

Or lay before the fire

It will rain or freeze.

A cinder with a hole

In the middle, is a purse

But a long one from the fire

Is a coffin – which is worse;

A spider ticking in the wall

Is the death-watch at night

A spark in the candle

Is a letter, sure as life;

If your right eye itches

You’ll cry till out of breath

A winding sheet in the candle

Is a sure sign of death.

If your left eye itches

You will laugh outright

But the left or right

Is very good at night;

If your elbow itch

A strange bedfellow found

If the bottom of your foot itch

You’ll tread on strange ground;

If your knee itch you’ll kneel

In a church, that’s a good ’un

And if your belly itch

You’ll get a lot of pudden.

If your back should itch

I do declare

Butter will be cheap

When the grass grows there

If the dog howl at night

Or mournfully cry

Or if the cock should crow

There will be someone die;

If you stumble up stairs

Indeed I’m no railer

You’ll be married to a snob

Or else to a tailor.

A speck on your finger nail

Is a gift that’s funny

If your hand itch in the middle

You will get some money;

Spilling of salt

Is anger outright

You will see a ghost if the doors

Should rattle in the night;

If your sweetheart

Dreams of bacon and eggs

She’ll have a little boy

That has got three legs.

The cat washing her face

The wind will blow

If the cat licks her foot

It is sure to snow;

Put your gown or your jacket

On, inside out

You will change your luck

And be put to the route [sic]

If your nose itches

You’ll get vexed till you jump

If your great toe itch

You’ll get a kick in the rump.

If a girl snaps one finger

She’ll have a child it seems

And if she snaps two

She’s sure to have twins;

And if she snaps eight

Nine, ten, or eleven

It’s a chance if she don’t

Have twenty and seven;

If you lay with your head

Underneath the clothes

You’ll have an ugly old man

What has got no nose.

If you see a star shoot

You’ll get what you wish

If a hair gets in your mouth

You’ll get as drunk as a fish;

If your little toe itch

You’ll be lost in a wave

If you shiver there’s somebody

Going over your grave;

If you go under a ladder

You’ll have bad luck and fall

And so say bad luck

Is better than none at all;

So to please outright

I have told you in rhyme

The great superstition

Of the olden time.

Many of these sayings passed into family use although some differed around the country. For example, an itchy palm was said to show money was on the way, but some believe it’s the right hand, while others say: ‘Left hand receive,’ and rub the palm against wood. The explanation for the latter was that the receiver shook hands with the right hand, as they were receiving the ‘gift’ with their left. ‘It works every time,’ admitted one country woman. ‘It might only be a penny found in the street, but it has to be unexpected.’

In recent years, research has show that more and more of these old superstitions have more than a grain of truth in them, or have detected the logic behind the casual warnings. Whether they are fact or fiction, most people have grown up with their use within the family.

Melusine Draco

The Secret People by Melusine Draco is published by Moon Books – www.moon-books.net ISBN 978 1 78535 444 1 : UK£13.99/US$22.95 : 226 pages : in paperback and e-book format.

Putting Out The Call

An excerpt from The Power of Prayer currently a work in progress from Julie Dexter and Melusine Draco for Ignotus Press. Due for publication 2021.

‘Putting out the call’ on the astral is something completely different to prayer.  Here we are making a public (astrally-speaking) statement that we are looking for, or are in need of someone or something that cannot be clearly defined in terms of a formal magical rite. We have all sent out a plea on the astral for things; it’s not always a conscious process but every one of us sends a plea out into the void, in one form or another, at some stage in our lives.  What that power is we are supplicating, and how it works is a matter for debate – the gods, the ancestors, the universe, the source, the cosmos – it doesn’t really matter. Asking for something can work, providing we keep one or two simple rules in mind.

Generally, the one putting out the call is, more often than not, an experienced magical practitioner who can usually get on their contacts within seconds and without any prior preparation.  For all its outwards appearances, however, this is not a knee-jerk reaction and the ‘Call’ has probably received a great deal of consideration and/or agonising over before it is put into practice.  Because of the character of the supplicant they have probably decided that the time is right on a subconscious level and that they are willing to accept whatever outcome with good grace.  There is a saying in traditional British Old Craft that the witch has the right to ask but the ‘powers that be’ have the right to refuse.

Nevertheless, there are times when the knee-jerk has all the passion and emotion necessary to fuel the Call … like in the case of a missing dog or child, for example.  Under heightened emotional states, individuals are more inclined to engage in ill-considered or rash actions than at other times. The building panic and imagination working in overdrive, however, can pitch a plea into a full-scale operation that bulldozes its way across the astral, cutting a swathe through physical obstacles, magical protocol and stellar bombardment!   The secret is that this kind of emotion cannot be simulated and so it is pure, unadulterated energy being poured into the Call. 

Putting out the call is simple but not always easy. All we have to do is ask for what we want and accept there is always a catch and/or a price.  For example, the energy we put into asking affects what may ultimately manifest,because if we call for things in a desperate, needy, or doubtful way, we can actually attract more despair, need and doubt. In addition, if we are too vague about what we desire, we can end up acquiring the wrong things, or nothing at all. This is why it is important to be very clear about both the condition our energy is in, and the seriousness of our intentions before we attempt to put out the Call.  It never ceases to amaze us, just how many ‘impure conduits’ there are who fail to realize that the main reason for their magical/personal failures are often due to these impurities.

True, this type of working could defy most senses of magical logic, if only because there are only certain exceptions when it comes to the question of practice or ritual.  As Carl Jung pointed out, ‘a great many ritualistic performances are carried out for the sole purpose of producing at will the effect of the ‘numinosum’  – a dynamic existence  – by certain devices of a magic nature, such as invocation, incantation, sacrifice, meditation and other self-inflicted tortures of various descriptions’.  We all are so used to the implications of cause and effect within magical practice that to activate a working without due attention to the focus we have for powering it, would seem impractical or pointless; since every magical action we take, whether taken consciously or subconsciously, has consequences that will deliver specific reactions in our lives.

Part of that ‘cause and effect’ is to make sure our energy channels are pure and uncontaminated. This can be one of the trickiest aspects of realizing success for many people. When we ask from a place of fear or need, we are not sending out the right energy signals on the astral because our channels are contaminated by fear and/or need.  The principle behind the Call is that like attracts like, and if we send out fearful or needy energy, we will actually attract things that will make us more fearful or needy. When we call with doubt in our heart, or think that we do not deserve what we are asking for, we will attract back proof of these beliefs. This is why energy cleansing is the first step in putting out the calland, if our channels are clear, then there is nothing to stand in the way of the cause or the effect.


Once we are clear about what we want, it is time to ask for those desires. It may help to take some time for deep breathing exercises or meditation before we begin because it is essential to be feeling as relaxed and positive as we can so that our energy is good. We can create a mini-ritual around the asking if that makes us feel more connected, perhaps lighting a candle, or going to a beautiful place in Nature where we feel connected to natural and universal energy. Then, simply put out the call for what we desire. The spoken word is very powerful, so it is important that we ask for what we want out loud whenever possible.

It is important to understand that exhaling stimulates our response, so a breathing routine with longer exhales than inhales will be more effective at lowering emotional tension. Routines, in which the exhale is the same length as the inhale while focusing on your anxious thoughts, are usually less effective at lowering the effects of anxiety, although, this is a good form of being mindful about learning how to become more relaxed.

For simple meditation, we sit or lie comfortably and close our eyes … making no effort to control our breath, we simply breathe naturally. Focusing our attention on the breath and on how the body moves with each inhalation and exhalation, we can feel the tension begin to evaporate.  It may help us relax if we play our favourite sounds of Nature, or soothing classical music and focusing on the rhythms and the tranquility of the sound.  

The uncomplicated ‘Rainbow Chakra’ exercise has absolutely nothing to do with traditional British Old Craft but it calms the mind, and can act as a quick pick-me-up.   We make ourselves comfortable on the floor or on the bed, and try to keep our mind completely blank for two minutes.  Closing our eyes and visualising a blank area in front of us, pushing thoughts away as they intrude into the darkness; we begin by identifying each of the natural energy points of our body with a colour of the rainbow:

  • Genitals – red
  • Navel – orange
  • Solar plexus – yellow
  • Heart – green
  • Throat – light blue
  • Forehead – dark blue
  • Crown of the head – amethyst

Visualise a warm red light rising slowly from the genitals, changing to orange as it reaches the navel, through yellow, green, light blue, dark blue, continuing up until the top of the head is bathed in a warm amethyst glow.  During the first attempts we will reach the crown very quickly but, as the concentration develops, the light will take longer between the changes of colour as it moves up the body.  More effective than 40-winks or a cat-nap, this exercise can be used as a pick-me-up at any time, whenever stress or tiredness creeps in.   Or, it can be used before attempting any form of impromptu magical working, as a fire-break between the mundane and the magical world.  Time: 15-30 minutes.

Similarly, the ‘Lucid Dreaming’ exercise is a half-waking, half-dream state, where the witch is fully conscious and aware of their surroundings, but still able to receive images or impressions from the astral.  The astral image is often super-imposed over the immediate surroundings like a double-exposure on a photograph.

For the best effect, we sit in a comfortable chair in a patch of sunlight, with a lighted candle burning in front of us.  Stare at the candle flame, which will be almost invisible in the sunshine streaming in through the window.   We don’t allow ourselves to fall asleep but at the same time we allow our mind to drift, and be open to receive any of the impressions that float into our consciousness.   The result is extremely relaxing but also useful for divination.  We may feel as though hours have passed but when we look at the clock, the hands may have only advanced a few minutes.

  • The advantage of these exercises is that we can have someone burst in on us, and all they will see is someone taking a nap!   Because none require any deep form of meditation, it is not dangerous if we are awakened suddenly.

Before we can attract what we desire, however, we have to break down those blockages that stand in our way. One of the main traps that people fall into when putting out the call for something is that we are not 100% sure what we want and why. We say things like ‘I want this …’ or ‘I want that …’, but until we flesh out those ideas, they are not going out as actual requests.  We can also feel like ‘they’ are hostile or indifferent to us, and when we have tried to ask and failed, it is easy to believe that the ‘powers that be’ don’t care about us.  However, the astral is simply responding to the energy waves it receives.  The problem with asking generic questions is that we won’t know what the answer looks like. Until we can say, with some degree of certainty, what we actually want, how can we possibly know whether or not we’ve receive it?

We should let our feelings guide us in deciding what exactly it is we want, but if we don’t get a powerful desire erupting within us when we visualize our request, then maybe it’s not the right request to make.  For example:

‘From a large pack of dogs I was down to the last three and for one old lady it was now a matter of weeks rather than months.  I needed to start looking for another dog – a greyhound or a whippet – but there were lots of mixed feelings as to the inappropriateness of the action and how the remaining dogs would react to the newcomer.  One moonless night, with the Dog Star to the south, I went outside and put out a verbal call for an old greyhound brood bitch who needed a home … and as I stood there I had a simultaneous vision of a friend’s blue dog van pulling up at the closed gate and her getting out leading a white greyhound with red markings.

It was not a good time for us.  My old greyhound was getting older and my little mongrel contracted pneumonia and unexpectedly died.  I contacted my friendly dog-van owner and found that Poppy – a white and red greyhound – had been rushed into the animal sanctuary for an emergency c-section. It was arranged that when the puppies were weaned she would come to me.  All seven puppies were adopted and the day the last one left, Poppy came home in my friend’s blue van because lockdown had forced me to remain locked-down. 

Poppy is a beautiful, elegant little lady who is a greyhound/fox terrier cross – the original breed-mix of the whippet – and an undoubted gift from the gods, who has helped me through a very difficult, lonely time.  And she came in answer to my Call.’

‘Ask the Universe’ is becoming quite a popular ‘in-thing’ on-line but although many of the techniques are similar to those we use within Craft when ‘calling’, I’ve looked long and hard but there appears to be no substance behind the shadows.  Google ‘ask the universe’ and there are some 244,000 results, with most of them telling us that there is a way out of our misery just for the asking. These sites have been written by experts in order to create hope without making any pledge; they foster certainty with never a binding promise.  They pledge calm and tranquility in exchange for an act of faith … but in what?

Neither is there any special formula for asking the Universe for help or guidance. Apparently, you can say something as simple as: ‘Universe, give me a clear sign about what action I should take.’… or … ‘Universe, help me to know if I should really take this action or not.’ Even: ‘Universe help me to clearly know if this action is something you want me to do.’ Do people believe that requests to the universe for help in solving problems and couched in this vein, really work?  Possibly, if they have a leaning towards a concept that the Universe is partly within our subconscious minds – the collective unconsciousness of Jungian psychology.  In other words, we can ask for help and our subconscious will attempt to provide the answers, but it might not have them straight away. Being patient is important …

Gregg Levoy writing for Psychology Today asks an extremely pertinent question: how likely are you to allow yourself a trust-fall into the arms of the Universe. ‘If you say you trust the universe, it would undoubtedly help, for starters, to clarify what aspect of the universe it is that you trust? Do you trust its benevolence, the feeling that you’re somehow looked after? Or trust that it’s filled with endless possibilities? Or is it your own resilience you trust, faith in your ability to choose how you’re going to respond to whatever the universe hands you – which is probably the only kind of trust that everyone is capable of. 

     The definition of trusting something is believing in its reliability, so there’s a catch here: The universe is certainly reliable (sun comes up, sun goes down, gravity works, etc.). But the universe is also reliably unpredictable (chaos theory, Murphy’s law, entropy, the famous shit that happens). So saying that you trust the universe means trusting it to be itself, which includes chaos and randomness, forces which clearly operate on affairs down here on the home planet, and in your own individual life.’

Belief, of course, is a very personal thing and this kind of ‘blind faith’ thinking will challenge any form of belief.  As Jung pointed out, religious belief as an external and objective divine cause always precedes any performance of prayer.  Those of a witchcraft persuasion understand that although we have a faith/belief in what we are it is not of the blinkered variety and, we need to know what it is we’re putting our faith in!  Therefore, to throw a spoken aloud request into the air – so to speak – goes against the grain and we want to know how it works?

So … after the cleansing of the astral/psychic channels, the main problem with any attempt to put out the call is that lack of clarity about what it is that we want. We may actually have only a vague idea of what we want, or we may have had conflicting thoughts.  Once we’ve asked for something, however, we need to relax and put it out of our mind, because there’s no point in dwelling on it.  Change rarely happens in an instant; it is typically a gradual process that has to follow its own path. Depending on what ‘ask’ we have made, the end result we have in mind might take days, or months … or it might even take years to reach.

Once we have asked for what we want, it is time to let go of our desire and let the astral energies get on with their own system of working.  We need to stop fretting and worrying about the situation because this could impede the manifestation process.   Remember that we must be open to new opportunities that come our way and that sometimes things will manifest in a slightly different way than what we expected. When the response comes, it will not always be obvious. We have to keep our eyes peeled for little signs here and there that guide us to where we want to be.  For example:

‘Books on witchcraft are awash with money-spells but in Old Craft it’s considered a bit of a no-no to ask for cash.  Nevertheless, there comes a time in everyone’s life where the lack of money is causing a serious problem and it’s accepted that even in times of dire hardship, a witch will only ever receive enough to keep the wolf from the door.  So save the breath in asking for Lottery numbers!

I remember a time when being strapped for cash was causing untold misery and thought it necessary to put out a call for some help in paying the electricity bill before things had a chance to get worse.  It was an ask for a specific amount – no more, no less.  The response came quickly but not in a way that I could have envisioned – via junk mail!  This normally goes in the bin unopened and unread, but that particular day it was a solitary envelope from one of those ‘gold for cash’ companies who were touting for unwanted and/or broken jewellery.

Needs must when the devil drives and I sorted out several pieces that were beyond repair, thinking there might be enough to cover the electricity bill.  Within days I received an offer on what I’d sent them and it came to over £1000, well in excess of what I’d asked for.  My reasoning for this extra largess was that I had been given what was, in effect, my own property since I owned the jewellery; I’d just been pointed in the right direction for turning dross into cash but without that garish envelope dropping through the door, I’d have never thought about selling broken bits of gold jewellery.’

Be prepared … the signs can come in many different forms, but they will be ones that we are able to spot if we look hard enough.  We should also be mindful of any thoughts or memories that appear randomly when we least expect them – because these can also be important signs that we need to look at more closely.  A crucial step that is often overlooked by people is trusting the ‘powers that be’ to do right by us, even if it doesn’t seem that way on the surface.

Traditionally, ‘putting out the call’ was for a teacher or mentor when a student felt they had reached a fork in the road, or that the way was blocked for a variety of reasons. This situation was discussed in an interesting article in Psychology Today by martial arts practitioner, E. Paul Zehr: and we often find reflecting parallels in magical and martial arts instruction of when the student is ready the teacher will appear …

‘Both the origin and context of this quote are somewhat obscure and open to both interpretation and nuance that change over time. When I first heard this quote decades ago, I took it quite literally. I thought of it along the lines of, ‘When you get to a certain level of skill, you need to find the right teacher’.  It’s interesting how we can be presented repeatedly with the same technical content, but fail to grasp many aspects until some later date. It’s all a matter of where we are at any given time and what we are open to accepting or understanding. 

‘I have seen my teacher do the same sequences of movements hundreds and thousands of times over the years. Yet, every so often I will catch something ‘new’ – or that appears new or different to me – in his performance. Many times when I’ve experienced this my default reaction was: ‘Interesting. I wonder why he changed that?’ Over time I’ve realized that, while there are legitimate tweaks and changes that my teacher may decide to make to technical performance within the martial arts system he heads, mostly it’s down to me for not seeing clearly in the first place. Or that at different times, my focus and appreciation were on different aspects of the technique. The ‘changes’ that I see typically reflect the small discrepancies between what I am and ought to be doing.  In these instances, I, the student, was ready for the appearance of my teacher. It just turns out that I was finally seeing something clearly for the first time, despite that it has always been there. Instead of being discouraging, I find this liberating and invigorating. How many other aspects of my life can I take this spirit of newfound vision to?’

Again, we have to remember that a teacher can light the way and, ease the way – in other words, facilitate learning – but the learner has to walk the path.  So, although we may put out the call because we may feel we are being held back, or our present teacher isn’t right for us, we may need to stop and reflect where the problem actually lies.  We may be reluctant to leave our present tutor out of a sense of loyalty but need guidance on how to handle this delicate situation.

This kind of ‘non-active’ response is still a result.  Simply because a visual sign that gets us thinking about other things in a different light, is still a positive result. The association of ideas is a process by which representations arise in consciousness, and also for a principle put forward by an important historical school of thinkers to account generally for the succession of mental phenomena whereby one idea was thought to follow another in the consciousness as if it were associated by some connected principle. The term is now used mostly in the history of philosophy and of psychology but it does still occur quite naturally in the magical world.

When we are given the things we’ve asked for, we should be thankful for them and show our gratitude in our actions. This creates a spiral of appreciation, gratitude, and positivity that will help us to manifest bigger and better things. Gratitude is actually the beginning and end of the manifestation process and in order to be in alignment with universal energy, it is important that we focus on all that we have to be thankful for. This will lift our energy and help us to manifest good things.

We also need to be aware that those things that are ‘god-given’ can just as easily be taken away again and so a show of gratitude is merely completing the circle.  Our thanks can be shown by a quite moment of thanks, or the donation (sacrifice) to an appropriate charity but without making a great deal of fuss. Gratitude is a thankful appreciation for what an individual receives, whether tangible or intangible.  In positive psychology research, gratitude is strongly and consistently associated with greater happiness. Gratitude helps people feel more positive emotions, relish good experiences, improve their health, deal with adversity, and build strong relationships.

Putting out the call is, therefore, neither prayer nor magical application but rather a spontaneous cry from the heart.  A sort of ‘Hey guys, I need some help with this!’ and is probably the most informal application of serious magical practice.  Is it likely to work for someone with no magical ability?  Doubtful … of those 244,000 results on Google, none claim to have had any magical training, or any connection to a magical path or tradition but a larger number were endorsing the practice of asking the Universe if only for the feel-good factor. MD

Rocky Temples & Sacred Groves by Melusine Draco

Caves and groves played an important role in our ancestral story. In addition to providing shelter for our earliest forebears, caves were often considered to be an entrance to Otherworld’s mystical realms. For some cultures, caves were the gateways to the Underworld, while others believed that supernatural beings dwelled within.  Nevertheless, there are numerous craggy outcroppings and ranges of hills that add beauty and majesty to a landscape – and beneath them often lie miles of secret caves carved out of natural rock by primordial waters, giving us the Hollow Hills.

No doubt there are many caves – large and small, man-made and natural – around the world that have their own mystical character that remain tantalisingly beyond our understanding.   One such place is the prehistoric underground Hypogeum on Malta where Frater M was able to strip away all previous archaeological theories and reveal (to himself) the true secrets of this mysterious place and recorded in What You Call Time.

Without his extensive occult training Frater M would probably not have been able to ‘tune in’ to the psychic vibrations emanating from the underground chamber; an inexperienced person making the same discovery by accident would more than likely have been terrified out of their wits.  And, despite his vast experience of psychic phenomena, however, it still took about four hours for him to totally regain his equilibrium. [What You Call Time]

There is a marked different, however, between a sacred (temple) site and an ancient (burial) monument.  Sacred sites become sacred by a dedicated usage, while other places may have been consecrated for specific funerary use.  The building of megalithic monuments such as Maes Howe (Orkney) and New Grange (Ireland) burial sites are prime examples.  Rituals held in the past would have been dedicated to the cult of the Ancestors and the deities deemed to have been concerned with death and possibly regeneration.  It seems unlikely that such funerary sites would have been visited for anything other than the rites for which they were designed.

At the other end of the sacred/ancestral spectrum to the Maltese temple is Paviland cave on the Gower peninsula in South Wales, and a crucial site for tracing the origins of human life in Britain. It was in here, in 1823, that the excavated the remains of a body had been discovered that had been smeared with red ochre (naturally occurring iron oxide) and buried with a selection of periwinkle shells and ivory rods.  The headless skeleton was given the name – ‘the Red Lady of Paviland’ – and it is still called the Red Lady, even though the remains are those of a young man, probably in his late 20s.  He was buried some 34,000 years ago, making the ‘Red Lad’ the oldest anatomically modern human skeleton found in Britain, and marking Paviland as the site of the oldest ceremonial burial in western Europe.  The limestone cliffs along the Gower coast are known for their archaeological importance and a reindeer engraved on the wall of the nearby Cathole Cave has been confirmed as the oldest known rock art in Britain.

Equally mysterious are the engravings and paintings representing the first known flowering of cave art at Creswell Crags (a limestone gorge on the Nottinghamshire/Derbyshire border) with other markings similar to those found in caves under the Mendip Hills in Somerset. The spectacular limestone gorge is thought to have been occupied as early as 43,000BC. This network of caves, weathered deep into the rock, no doubt provided shelter from the harsh conditions of the last Ice Age, and the area is now home to Britain’s most important collection of occupation sites from this period – but it was not until 2003 that Britain’s only confirmed examples of Ice Age cave art were discovered

The markings also include hundreds of letters, symbols and patterns carved at a time when belief in witchcraft was widespread; the scale and variety of the marks made on the limestone walls and ceiling of a cave – which has at its centre a deep, dark hole – is unprecedented.  Commonly known as ‘witch marks’ these apotropaic scratchings (from the Greek apotrepein meaning ‘to turn away’), are believed to be the biggest concentration of apotropaic marks, or symbols to ward off evil or misfortune, ever found in the UK.  Creswell Crags was already of international importance for its Ice Age art and to find this huge number of protection marks from the more recent past added a whole new layer of discovery.  Even two hundred years ago the English countryside was a very different place, death and disease were everyday companions and evil forces could readily be imagined in the dark.  One can only speculate on what it was that the people of Creswell feared might emerge from Otherworld into these caves.

The most famous examples of cave art are to be found in France and in Spain, but a few are also known in Portugal, England, Italy, Romainia, Germany and Russia with the total number of known sites being about four-hundred.  Most cave art consists of paintings made with either red or black pigment. The reds were made with iron oxides (hematite), whereas manganese dioxide and charcoal were used for the blacks. Cave art is now generally considered to have a symbolic or ritual function, sometimes both. The exact meanings of the images remain unknown, but no doubt were created within the framework of shamanic beliefs and practices. One such practice, no doubt,  involved going into a deep cave for a ceremony during which a shaman would enter a trance state and journey into Otherworld to make contact with the spirits in order to try to obtain their guidance.

Examples of paintings and engravings in deep caves – those existing in complete darkness -are rare outside Europe but are suggestive of being the forerunner of the chthonic beliefs of the Greeks and the deities of the Under/Otherworld.  And as Professor H W Janson observes in A History of Art, hidden away as they are in the bowels of the earth, to protect them from the casual intruder, these images must have served a purpose far more serious than mere decoration.

‘One of the most important and useful factors inherent in the study of rock or cave art is that its location has not changed – it is still where the artist chose to put it and the viewer is occupying the same space that the artist occupied.  This can give us a great deal of information that is far more solid and dependable than speculations about meaning.  In any culture there may be ‘good’ places and ‘bad’ places, and even inside caves there were probably places where such intangible factors played an important role in the decoration of the walls.

‘The natural architecture of caves played a role in the way in which they were decorated … and the ultimate example of this phenomenon is evident in the Pergouset Cave where the engraved art begins only after a long crawl, at full stretch, down a narrow, low, wet and unpleasant passage.  One of the engraved figures, a horse head, was made at arm’s length inside a fissure into which the artist could not possibly have inserted their head.  Even the artist never saw this figure: it was not meant to be seen by human eyes.’ [Art & Religion in the Stone Age]

What archaeologist, Paul Bahn finds even more intriguing are the numerous images that were purposely hidden, up high chimneys, under low overhangs or in niches. ‘Such imagery was not made to be seen by other Stone Age people, but was intended to be seen by – or was offered to – something else, perhaps a deity, spirit or ancestor.  In other words, some cave art (but not necessarily all of it) was clearly religious in some way and produced out of strongly held motivations’.  In fact, inaccessibility appears to be the crucial factor for this ‘hidden’ imagery.  Perhaps the overcoming of obstacles, the discomforts and dangers, were more important than the actual creation of the images.

Perhaps, too, the placing of the images in the most inaccessible location possible was somehow linked to the remoteness of the artist’s everyday world – and it was this remoteness that made the images as sacred as possible.  There is a suggestion that this exquisite cave art wasn’t meant to last and that its survival was irrelevant. This could certainly be true of Le Tuc d’Audoubert where the now-famous clay bison were made at the far end of the cave, after an arduous journey of nine-hundred metres – the farthest point that could be reached.  The images were left in the darkness, and it is doubtful whether anyone ever returned to see them until their discovery in the early 20th century.

And perhaps we should take Frater M’s experience in the Hypogeum in Malta into account when we study Bahn’s comments about another factor which may have played a significant role in the choice of location is acoustics:

‘Today we tend to enter these caves speaking in hushed tones, but this may be wrong – the original artists or users of the caves may well have been singing, chanting, or praying loudly while the images were being made or used.  We will never know, but studies of acoustics in some Ice Age decorated caves have detected a correlation between the locations of decoration and those places where men’s voices can best be heard. 

     Often, the areas with the best decoration have the best acoustics, while undecorated areas are totally flat in terms of sound quality.  In view of the obvious intelligence of artists, it is extremely likely that, just as they took full advantage of the morphology of the cave and of particular rock shapes, so they would also have used any acoustic peculiarities.  Anyone who has heard stalactites being played inside a deep, dark cave – they produce a soft marimba-like sound – will know how amazing the experience can be.

     One of the characteristics of Ice Age cave art is the exploitation of undulations in walls … and to gain a better idea of how these shapes would have appeared to Ice Age visitors, it is necessary to replicate the sources of light they would have used … which I believe can take us the farthest into the minds and motivations of the artists.’ [Cave Art: A Guide to the Decorated Ice Age Caves of Europe]

In April 2003, further engravings and bas-reliefs were found on the walls and ceilings of some of the Creswell caves, an important find as it had previously been thought that no British cave art existed. The discoveries included an animal figure at first thought to be an ibex but later identified as a stag. Later finds included carvings on the ceiling of Church Hole Cave, the rarity of which made the site one of international importance.

‘To this day the finds at Creswell Crags represent the most northerly finds in Europe. Their subject matter includes representations of animals including bison and, arguably, several different bird species. The engravers seem to have made use of the naturally uneven cave surface in their carvings and it is likely that they relied on the early-morning sunlight entering the caves to illuminate the art.  The scientists and archaeologists concluded that it was most likely the engravings were contemporary with evidence for occupation at the site during the late glacial era around 13,000–15,000 years ago. Most of the engravings are found in Church Hole Cave on the Nottinghamshire side of the gorge. Since this discovery, however, an engraved reindeer from a cave on the Gower peninsula has yielded two minimum dates of 12,572 and 14,505 years.’ [Britain’s Oldest Art: The Ice Age cave art of Creswell Crags] 

Not all of the figures identified as prehistoric art are in fact man-made. An example given by archaeologists Paul Bahn and Paul Pettitt is the ‘horse-head’, which they say is ‘highly visible and resembles a heavily maned horse-head … lacks any trace of work: it is a combination of erosion, black stains for the head, and natural burrow cast reliefs for the mane’.  Others are a ‘bison-head’ which they think may be natural and a ‘bear’ image which ‘lacks any evidence of human work’. Notwithstanding they believe that more figures may be discovered in the future.

We know that sound plays an important role in magical practice, and research into our ancient past is revealing interesting technologies employed by ancient societies.  Also in history we see how the Greeks and Egyptians, and many other cultures worldwide used sound and light, and sometimes psychedelic substances in their temples.  The very bluestones of Stonehenge – themselves a long way from their native Preseli mountains – were hewn from rocks that ‘sing’.

 Nevertheless, this is obviously when the great awakening of symbolic, often referred to as ‘religious thought’ began.  The mysterious painted caves point to the time when mankind began to probe the boundaries of spirituality and are the natural cathedrals that witnessed the birth of religious belief. Questions inevitably follow.  How and why did the ancient artists do it?  The underground cathedrals of Palaeolithic times were dark, dangerous, dank and depressing.  They had to crawl through small openings carrying some sputtering light source, fully aware that if it went out, leaving them in darkness so profound they couldn’t even see their hand in front of their face, they would probably die there.  The sharp, ragged rocks scraped their back and knees, and unfathomable drop-offs opened up suddenly before them at every turn.  They risked their life and sanity every time.  Why would they do such a thing?

Chthonic might seem a lofty and learned word, but it’s actually pretty down-to-earth in its origin and meaning, since comes from chthōn, which means ‘earth’ in Greek, and is associated with things that dwell in or under the earth. And yet within living memory, at the inconspicuous Neolithic village of Carn Euny (Cornwall) there is a small, enclosed opening in the ground that leads to an underground chamber called a fogou.  Back when this village was occupied it was necessary to go to quite a bit of trouble to reach this subterranean, human-constructed cave, crawling on hands and knees down into the darkness. 

‘But there would inevitably come a day when kids grew old enough to be initiated into adulthood.  Suddenly mystery confronted them, and I imagine they were frightened out of their wits.  Here was a whole unexplored realm, right beneath their feet.  It must have been a spiritual awakening, discovering new worlds, adult worlds, and magical worlds where children were now expected to behave in a new way and take on mature responsibilities.  What went on down here?  What did they learn?  What mysteries were revealed?’ [The Modern Antiquarian]

There are no doubt many of these dark mini-caves all over the world serving a similar purpose. But once we get down on our hands and knees and make the mental and spiritual effort to crawl through the tunnel, we will, like the children of Carn Euny, never be the same again.  We will discover a world where much is the same, only more so.  We will discover the world of spirit, the world of alternate realities, the multi-verse, the place of alternative perceptions.  It’s right there underneath our feet and all around us, but we’ll never experience it unless we start searching … 

Once upon a time, there was a forest … and what a forest it was.  The Boreal Forest wraps around the globe at the top of the Northern Hemisphere in North America and Eurasia. Also known as taiga or snow forest, this landscape is characterized by its long, cold and snowy winters. In North America it extends from the Arctic Circle of northern Canada and Alaska down into the very northern tip of the United States in Idaho, Washington, Montana, and Minnesota.

In Eurasia, the taiga covers most of Sweden, Finland, much of Russia from Karelia in the west to the Pacific Ocean (including much of Siberia, much of Norway and Estonia, some of the Scottish Highlands, some lowland/coastal areas of Iceland, and areas of northern Kazakhstan, northern Mongolia, and northern Japan (on the island of Hokkaido).

Taiga in its current form is a relatively recent phenomenon, having only existed for the last 12,000 years since the beginning of the Holocene epoch, covering land that had been under the Scandinavian Ice Sheet in Eurasia and the Laurentide Ice Sheet in North America during the Late Pleistocene Age.  Nevertheless, it’s the planet’s single largest biological environment and makes up thirty percent of the globe’s forest cover. The main tree species, the length of the growing season and summer temperatures vary across the world. The taiga of North America is mostly spruce; Scandinavian and Finnish taiga consists of a mix of spruce, pines and birch; Russian taiga has spruces, pines and larches depending on the region, while the Eastern Siberian taiga is a vast larch forest.

Nearer to home, the Old Caledonia Forest (Scotland), was part of this immense area and even as late as medieval times, the great forest of native pine and birch stretched across most of the Highlands from Perth to Ullapool.  But with deforestation and the insatiable timber demands of the Napoleonic Wars and the Highlands Clearances, together with intensive sheep and deer grazing, by the 1970s it was estimated that little more than 25,000 acres remained.

Although I am drawn to the sheer beauty and magnificence of mountains, I would never have the courage to be a mountaineer.  And yet I have never had any fear of forests, no matter how dark or dense … and on the lower slopes of my mountains the forests are as dark and dense as any primordial woodland of the imagination. Forests can be spooky if we’re not used to them but it’s different if we grow up around them because the trees and the darkness are our friends and provide us with protection.

Nevertheless, there is something of the night about forests. Even at the height of summer, even under the midday sun, they are places of murk and mystery, blotting out the light with a mille-feuille of foliage. Even the most regimented spruce plantation has its shadows and its secrets. ‘At the heart of every forest is a darkness that bides its time,’ wrote Phil Daoust in the Guardian.  ‘And as the sun goes down, after that lovely hour of slanting golden light, this dark spirit reclaims its own, rolling out across bracken and brambles towards its still-grey borders. Then wood is at its woodiest.’

And yet … for those of us who grew up with Pan as a playmate these wooded places are beautiful, enchanting, magical and … yes … sacred.   There is a time-less romanticism in the forest that interweaves myth and history, legend and folklore.  It is a multi-layer tapestry woven in rich, natural colours that change with the season and provides a convivial habitat for a wide variety of flora and fauna. Which might explain why, in so many primitive cultures it is a requirement of tribal initiation to spend a lengthy period alone in the forests or mountains, a period of coming to terms with the solitude and non-humanity of Nature so as to discover who, or what, we really are – a discovery hardly possible while the community is telling us what we are, or ought to be.  Or as Alan Watts observes in Nature, Man & Woman:

‘He may discover, for instance, that loneliness is the masked fear of an unknown which is himself, and that the alien-looking aspect of nature is a projection upon the forests of his fear of stepping outside habitual and conditioned patterns of feeling.  There is much evidence to show that for anyone who passes through the barrier of loneliness, the sense of individual isolation bursts, almost by dint of its own intensity, into the ‘all-feeling’ of identity with the universe.  One may pooh-pooh this as ‘nature mysticism’ or pantheism’, but it should be obvious that a feeling of this kind corresponds better with a universe of mutually interdependent processes and relations than with a universe of distinct, block-like entities.’

The forest played an important role in the beliefs of our Ancestors, for in the remote area of Wildwood we find sacred groves but the term ‘ancient woodland’should not be confused with ‘wildwood’.  Wildwood refers to the woodland that developed in the UK and across Europe after the last glaciations, although the nature of the Wildwood is the subject of some debate. Was it dense, dark forest or open savannah with trees?  Whatever its nature, Wildwood was never ‘managed’ as we understand the term today.

Historically, the term ‘Wildwood’ is the name given to the forests as they were some 6,000 years ago, before human interference. On a magical level, the Wildwood refers to those strange, eerie places that remain the realm of Nature and untamed by man. It is the Otherworld of unearthly and potentially dangerous beings. This is the realm of Pan and the Wild Hunt. In modern psychology it refers to the dark inner recesses of the mind, the wild and tangled growths of the unconscious. Here among the trees we are never sure that what we see is reality or illusion, and the nearest most of us come to experiencing it is through that wonderful passage in The Wind in the Willows where Mole is lost …

“… he penetrated to where the light was less, and trees crouched nearer and nearer … Everything was very still now. The dusk advanced on him steadily, rapidly, gathering in behind and before, and the light seemed to be draining away like flood-water … Then the whistling began …”

Mériém Clay-Egerton wrote extensively on the subject of trees and produced some extremely evocative pieces relating to Wildwood experiences, which were sadly, left unpublished at the time of her death. Here she describes the strange half-light that anyone who walks in the Wildwood will immediately recognise …

To me this was a place that had obviously been held as a sacred area for so very long now that it had in its turn breathed this very atmosphere itself, and so projected this onto the mind which was prepared or conditioned to be both sympathetic and empathic to various woodlands and their forms of existence … It resembled what I might envisage as a naturally constructed ‘cathedral’. Here lived and breathed holiness and beauty …”

It is impossible to describe the sensations of the Wildwood, but no one who has walked there can remain unchanged by the experience. This is the natural Wildwood of our legends, where it is said that the forest knows all and is able to teach all; that the forest listens and holds the secret of every mystery. A legacy of prehistoric traditions of nature conservation, sacred groves are patches of forest that rural communities in the ancient world protected and revered as sacrosanct. Deeply held spiritual beliefs ensured that not a tree was felled nor a creature harmed within its boundaries.  Since ancient times, those woods have been the places of sacred groves and nemorous temples.

A sacred grove is any that is of special religious importance to a particular culture. Sacred groves feature in various cultures throughout the world. The Celts used sacred groves, called nemeton, for performing rituals, based on their mythology. Nemeton were often fenced off by enclosures, as indicated by the German term Viereckschanze – meaning a quadrangular space surrounded by a ditch enclosed by wooden palisades.

Trees held a particular role in Germanic paganism and mythology, both as individuals (sacred trees) and in groups (sacred groves). The central role of trees in Germanic religion is noted in the earliest written reports about the Germanic peoples, with the Roman historian Tacitus stating that Germanic cult practices took place exclusively in groves rather than temples. Scholars consider that reverence for, and rites performed at individual trees, are derived from the mythological role of the world tree, Yggdrasil; some historical evidence also connects individual deities to both groves and individual trees, and even after Christianization, trees continued to play a significant role in the folk beliefs of these people.

The Wildwood, however, is the dark, untamed part of natural woodland where unearthly and potentially dangerous beings are still to be found. This is not everyone’s favourite place and many urban witches never get over an ‘atavistic fear of Nature uncontrolled’. Mériém Clay-Egerton described the strange half-light that anyone who walks in the Wildwood will immediately recognise. ‘I was always glad to go deeper into the apparent gloom because I would be beyond one of the woodland’s outer barriers’.  Nevertheless, even witches are not always welcome in this tree-filled wilderness. Hostile forces can physically bar our entrance into the inner sanctum of the wood, just as Philip Heselton describes in Secret Places of the Goddess: ‘The undergrowth is a thick tangle of briar and bramble, giving the aura of a place ‘set apart for mysterious concealment’. Entwined with these almost impenetrable barriers, are tufts of tall ferns, the seeds of which can be used to cast a witch’s cloak of invisibility. We must learn to heed the signs, however, for Nature does not always allow humans to pass.’

According to the Speculum Christiani, a fourteenth century manuscript against divination, Welsh soothsayers would invoke the name of Gwyn ap Nudd, the king of the Tylwyth Teg or ‘Faere folk’ and ruler of Annwn, the Welsh Otherworld, before entering woodlands, proclaiming: ‘To the king of Spirits, and to his queen – Gwyn ap Nudd – you who are yonder in the forest, for love of your mate, permit us to enter your dwelling’.  Similarly, the oldest Hellenic oracle, the oak of Dodona in Epirus in northwestern Greece, was tended by priests who slept on the ground by the tree.  During classical antiquity, priests in the sacred grove interpreted the rustling of the oak leaves to determine actions to be taken.

Sacred caves and groves were natural holy places that were later re-created in the stone-built temples and cathedrals that mirrored the trunk-like columns and pillars and creating the cavernous darkness within the holy precincts. For the people of the Elder Faith, however, there is still a preference for those sacred places that were created when the world was young

A Return to Coarse Witchcraft … not likely!

We’re repeatedly asked if there’s likely to be another in the series of Coarse Witchcraft and the answer is highly unlikely.  Having watched a YouTube interview (2012) with Michael Green describing how he was inspired to write his famous book, The Art of Coarse Acting – which in turn had inspired Coarse Witchcraft, it is easy to explain why.  Michael Green was a journalist, author, actor and humourist who produced 15 Coarse books on subjects ranging from gardening to sex, and a fellow-drinker in the Grapevine Bar at Questors Theatre in Ealing, London where he kept us entertained with his immense fund of funny stories.  With an eye for the ridiculous, he would have made a wonderful job of the Coarse Witchcraft series …

As the interview revealed, the objects of his ridicule generally thought it was funny and everyone knew someone who was a coarse (actor), never considering for a moment seeing themselves in the part.  Similarly, everyone who’s ever commented on Coarse Witchcraft knows each and every coarse witch included in the pages.  Some have even identified with the main characters or claimed to have worked with them on occasion.  The irony is, that no one has ever got it right according to the authors!  In fact, they were astounded that anyone would admit to the fool in the pages being themselves …

Genuine traditional witches have always seen the funny side of Coarse Witchcraft, and the less talented … well, they don’t think of themselves as coarse witches because they believe theirs is the right way to go about it. The original authors were out and about in the pagan community and so the stories, gossip and anecdotes readily came their way, whereas today, things would become more contrived and less spontaneous.

Anything that is a pastiche or take-off  – is very difficult to achieve because there has to be the right blend of very good, and very bad (ability-wise) witches to achieve the balance – because unlike parody, pastiche celebrates, rather than mocks, the work it imitates.  There is also much less humour abroad in the pagan community than there was some thirty years ago, with a large number of the unknowledgeable having such a high opinion of itself  that it can vulgarly be said to be poised on the threshold of disappearing up its own arse! MD

Or the Coarse Witchcraft view of life, the Universe, and everything …

‘People prefer the play-acting,’ said Adam quietly. ‘They want someone who looks the part and they’re not interested in whether it’s a complete and utter prat, just so long as they talk the talk. Criticism is only seen as sour grapes.’ He doesn’t say a lot but when he does, it’s usually pretty profound.

‘But they haven’t got a yard-stick to measure anything by,’ I protested. ‘Publishers are now accepting an author purely on face value and the book lists have hundreds of different titles giving out this airy-fairy drivel. As a result, the play-actors don’t need to know any more than what’s in the books, providing they can keep one step ahead of those who know nothing. As long as they can cast a Circle and recite an invocation, it’s considered to be witchcraft and the newcomer knows no different.’

‘I don’t think they really believe in the magic, either,’ said Pris sadly. ‘It’s like coarse fishing; it’s seasonal; anyone can have a go; there aren’t any rules; they can make up their own little rituals; it gets them out of the house for a few hours on a regular basis, and it doesn’t actually have any practical purpose other than personal gratification.’

Coarse Witchcraft,’ said Rupert, spooning an unhealthy amount of mustard onto the side of his plate. ‘A damned good title for a book. It could contain a worm’s eye view of what passes for Craft among the uninitiated and warn the wannabes to be on their guard against the poseurs.’

We spent the next couple of hours making suggestions about who and what should go into this fictitious book. We got merrier and sillier. And then forgot all about it …

‘Gerry thinks the book is a great idea, providing we stick to fact and only include real-life situations,’ said Pris over the telephone next morning.

‘What book?’ I responded, forgetting my grammar in my confusion.

Coarse Witchcraft.’

 ‘Pris,’ I said patiently. ‘It was a joke. A bit of fun. That’s all.’

By the time Rupert came in for lunch she’d nobbled him on the mobile. ‘Pris and Gerry think we should go ahead with the book,’ he said tucking in to a large slice of cheese.

Rupert is appreciative of fine food and his outdoor lifestyle means that he can enjoy a good scoff, without losing that ‘small and beautifully made’ look, despite the fact that he’s now over fifty. That ‘we’ was the most ominous sound I’d heard for a long time, particularly as I’m the one who earns my living with the pen. ‘It’s libel, darling,’ I said firmly, trying to head him off at the pass.

‘Do you honestly think anyone’s going to hold up their hands and confess that the idiot on the page is them? Besides, we’re not going to use names, and the instances won’t necessarily be people of our acquaintance. We can go further afield … Josh is always good for some gossip.’

Cynically referred to as the ‘Witch of the North’, we’re never sure whether she attracts the comedians, or whether there’s something in the water in that part of the country. Whenever we speak to her, there’s always been some hilarity or histrionics to report. Like the instance of the neophyte who managed to almost sever an artery when he was taken out into the woods to cut his staff. He was so afraid of the Magister shouting at him that he didn’t mention it until he’d almost passed out. This same lad later set light to his robe setting up the Circle – everyone noticed but declined to say anything …

This extract was taken from The Coarse Witchcraft Trilogy by Rupert Percy and Gabrielle Sidonie.  Introduced by Melusine Draco.  ISBN 978 1 78279 285 7 : UK£10.99/US$8.95 ; 254 pages : Available in paperback and e-book format.


The first day of Spring is one thing, the first Spring day is another …

Have to admit to succumbing to the frustrations of ‘lock-down’ and the torrential down-pours haven’t helped.  But this week has seen the garden burst into bloom with containers of dwarf daffodils and flower beds full of scarlet dwarf tulips. Patchy sunshine has brought the bumblebees out and both the dawn and dusk chorus is a joy to listen to the ear.

Arcanum books got off to a good start and we’re springing into production with Talking to Crows.  Several new ideas for titles have brought the series up to ten with Thrice Great Thoth: The Magician’s Magician, Rats: Born Survivors (working title), The Power of Prayer (with co-author Julie Dexter), Chasing Rainbows: Coping With Pet Loss and Bereavement and The Scent of Magic. These books keep me busy as they can mostly be written off the top of my head and I thoroughly enjoy turning my hand to completely different subjects.  They also spot me from becoming bored!

The typescript for Temple House Archive – PACT! – is still dragging its feet on the subject of pacts, demons and curses – which is best suited to winter creative writing when the evenings are dark and dismal.  I’ve decided to kill off one of my main characters and it’s not easy!  Beginning to sound like one of the spoilers for Death in Paradise!  The end is firmly in sight but just need to tweak the final action …

As I’ve said before, Pagan Portals: Sexual Dynamics in the Circle will finally see the light of day on 26th March 2021 pointing out that one of the most significant social changes in the 20th-century was the wedge driven between the males and females of Craft as a result of social media and political feminism. From a purely magical point of view the battle of the sexes has been one of the most negative crusades in the history of mankind since everything in the entire Universe is made up from a balance or harmony of opposite energies. Men and women are different as night and day but still part of the same homo sapiens coin – regardless of their individual sexuality.

So … what’s new for the rest of the year?   The Witch’s Book of Simples has gone into production with Moon Books and hopefully will be published towards the end of the year.  And once the various bits and pieces, blogs and stuff are out of the way, I’ll take my usual summer break (not that I should need it after all this lockdowning) and make a start on the next book in The Vampyre’s Tale series.

Melusine Draco

Spring Equinox 2021