Coven of Cythrawl
beltain
Beltane, also called Walpurgis - May Eve or May Day, is a Great Sabbat celebrating pure fertility and the union of the young Horned God and the beautiful Goddess.
At this time, life is renewing itself. Birds and animals are mating. In the fields, newly planted seeds are beginning to grow.
Great fires are lit (usually on hills) honoring the fertility God Belenos. Some leap the fires to show the exuberance of the season and in the old days livestock were also driven to run through the fire for good luck.
Maypoles are erected and bright ribbons are entwined around it. The Maypole, a phallic symbol, represents the masculine. The soft, colorful ribbons represent the feminine. The union and entwining of the two symbolizes the union of the God and Goddess, the ultimate union.
It is a time of great fun and merriment and of course fertility. This is the time to also fertilize your dreams with action. It is legend that any children conceived at Beltane were gifted by the Gods. These children are known as Merry-Be-Gots.

"There were three men came out
of the West,
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn must die... "
Despite the bad publicity
generated by Thomas Tryon's novel, Harvest Home is the pleasantest of holidays.
Admittedly, it does involve the concept of sacrifice, but one that is symbolic
only. The sacrifice is that of the spirit of vegetation, John Barleycorn.
Occurring 1/4 of the year after Midsummer, Harvest Home represents mid-autumn,
autumn's height. It is also the Autumnal Equinox, one of the quarter days of the
year, a Lesser Sabbat and a Low Holiday in modern Witchcraft.
Technically, an equinox is an
astronomical point and, due to the fact that the earth wobbles on its axis
slightly (rather like a top that's slowing down), the date may vary by a few
days depending on the year. The autumnal equinox occurs when the sun crosses the
equator on it's apparent journey southward, and we experience a day and a night
that are of equal duration. Up until Harvest Home, the hours of daylight have
been greater than the hours from dusk to dawn. But from now on, the reverse
holds true. Astrologers know this as the date on which the sun enters the sign
of Libra, the Balance (an appropriate symbol of a balanced day and night). This
year (1988) it will occur at 2:29 pm CDT on September 22nd.
However, since most European
peasants were not accomplished at calculating the exact date of the equinox,
they celebrated the event on a fixed calendar date, September 25th, a holiday
the medieval Church Christianized under the name of "Michaelmas", the
feast of the Archangel Michael. (One wonders if, at some point, the R.C. Church
contemplated assigning the four quarter days of the year to the four Archangels,
just as they assigned the four cross-quarter days to the four gospel-writers.
Further evidence for this may be seen in the fact that there was a brief
flirtation with calling the Vernal Equinox "Gabrielmas", ostensibly to
commemorate the angel Gabriel's announcement to Mary on Lady Day.) Again, it
must be remembered that the Celts reckoned their days from sundown to sundown,
so the September 25th festivities actually begin on the previous sundown (our
September 24th).
Although our Pagan ancestors
probably celebrated Harvest Home on September 25th, modern Witches and Pagans,
with their desk-top computers for making finer calculations, seem to prefer the
actual equinox point, beginning the celebration on its eve (this year, sunset on
September 21st).
Mythically, this is the day of the
year when the god of light is defeated by his twin and alter-ego, the god of
darkness. It is the time of the year when night conquers day. And as I have
recently shown in my seasonal reconstruction of the Welsh myth of Blodeuwedd,
the Autumnal Equinox is the only day of the whole year when Llew (light) is
vulnerable and it is possible to defeat him. Llew now stands on the balance
(Libra/autumnal equinox), with one foot on the cauldron (Cancer/summer solstice)
and his other foot on the goat (Capricorn/winter solstice). Thus he is betrayed
by Blodeuwedd, the Virgin (Virgo) and transformed into an Eagle (Scorpio).
Two things are now likely to occur
mythically, in rapid succession. Having defeated Llew, Goronwy (darkness) now
takes over Llew's functions, both as lover to Blodeuwedd, the Goddess, and as
King of our own world. Although Goronwy, the Horned King, now sits on Llew's
throne and begins his rule immediately, his formal coronation will not be for
another six weeks, occurring at Samhain (Halloween) or the beginning of Winter,
when he becomes the Winter Lord, the Dark King, Lord of Misrule. Goronwy's other
function has more immediate results, however. He mates with the virgin goddess,
and Blodeuwedd conceives, and will give birth -- nine months later (at the
Summer Solstice) -- to Goronwy's son, who is really another incarnation of
himself, the Dark Child.
Llew's sacrificial death at
Harvest Home also identifies him with John Barleycorn, spirit of the fields.
Thus, Llew represents not only the sun's power, but also the sun's life trapped
and crystallized in the corn. Often this corn spirit was believed to reside most
especially in the last sheaf or shock harvested, which was dressed in fine
clothes, or woven into a wicker-like man-shaped form. This effigy was then cut
and carried from the field, and usually burned, amidst much rejoicing. So one
may see Blodeuwedd and Goronwy in a new guise, not as conspirators who murder
their king, but as kindly farmers who harvest the crop which they had planted
and so lovingly cared for. And yet, anyone who knows the old ballad of John
Barleycorn knows that we have not heard the last of him.
"They let him stand till
midsummer's day,
Till he looked both pale and wan,
And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard
And so become a man..."
Incidentally, this annual mock
sacrifice of a large wicker-work figure (representing the vegetation spirit) may
have been the origin of the misconception that Druids made human sacrifices.
This charge was first made by Julius Caesar (who may not have had the most
unbiased of motives), and has been re-stated many times since. However, as has
often been pointed out, the only historians besides Caesar who make this
accusation are those who have read Caesar. And in fact, upon reading Caesar's
"Gallic Wars" closely, one discovers that Caesar never claims to have
actually witnessed such a sacrifice. Nor does he claim to have talked to anyone
else who did. In fact, there is not one single eyewitness account of a human
sacrifice performed by Druids in all of history!
Nor is there any archeological
evidence to support the charge. If, for example, human sacrifices had been
performed at the same ritual sites year after year, there would be physical
traces. Yet there is not a scrap. Nor is there any native tradition or history
which lends support. In fact, insular tradition seems to point in the opposite
direction. The Druid's reverence for life was so strict that they refused to
lift a sword to defend themselves when massacred by Roman soldiers on the Isle
of Mona. Irish brehon laws forbade a Druid to touch a weapon, and any soul rash
enough to unsheathe a sword in the presence of a Druid would be executed for
such an outrage!
Jesse Weston, in her brilliant
study of the Four Hallows of British myth, "From Ritual to Romance",
points out that British folk tradition is, however, full of MOCK sacrifices. In
the case of the wicker-man, such figures were referred to in very personified
terms, dressed in clothes, addressed by name, etc. In such a religious ritual
drama, everybody played along.
"They've hired men with
scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at the knee,
They've rolled him and tied him by the waist
Serving him most barbarously..."
In the medieval miracle-play
tradition of the "Rise Up, Jock" variety (performed by troupes of
mummers at all the village fairs), a young harlequin-like king always underwent
a mock sacrificial death. But invariably, the traditional cast of characters
included a mysterious "Doctor" who had learned many secrets while
"travelling in foreign lands". The Doctor reaches into his bag of
tricks, plies some magical cure, and presto! the young king rises up hale and
whole again, to the cheers of the crowd. As Weston so sensibly points out, if
the young king were ACTUALLY killed, he couldn't very well rise up again, which
is the whole point of the ritual drama! It is an enactment of the death and
resurrection of the vegetation spirit. And what better time to perform it than
at the end of the harvest season?
In the rhythm of the year, Harvest
Home marks a time of rest after hard work. The crops are gathered in, and winter
is still a month and a half away! Although the nights are getting cooler, the
days are still warm, and there is something magical in the sunlight, for it
seems silvery and indirect. As we pursue our gentle hobbies of making corn
dollies (those tiny vegetation spirits) and wheat weaving, our attention is
suddenly arrested by the sound of baying from the skies (the "Hounds of
Annwn" passing?), as lines of geese cut silhouettes across a harvest moon.
And we move closer to the hearth, the longer evening hours giving us time to
catch up on our reading, munching on popcorn balls and caramel apples and
sipping home-brewed mead or ale. What a wonderful time Harvest Home is! And how
lucky we are to live in a part of the country where the season's changes are so
dramatic and majestic!
"And little Sir John in the
nut-brown bowl--
And he's brandy in the glass,
And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the strongest man at last."
Degree
System within Wicca Working
Tools of Wicca Elements
of Witchcraft
More
Witch Stuff
With Thanks