Folklorist Belief

FOLKLORISTS BELIEVE THAT the first festivals
arose because of the anxieties of early
peoples who did not understand the
forces of nature and wished to placate them.
The people noted the times and seasons when
food was plentiful or not and reacted
accordingly. Harvest and thanksgiving festivals,
for instance, are a relic from the times when
agriculture was the primary livelihood for the
majority. Festivals also provided an opportunity
for the elders to pass on knowledge and the
meaning of tribal lore to younger generations
and give them the opportunity to let off steam
in an acceptable yet controlled way.
General agreement exists that the most
ancient festivals and feasts were associated with
planting and harvest times or with honouring
the dead. These have come down to us in
modern times as celebrations with some
religious overtones. Harvest festivals are still
carried out in many Christian churches and
celebrate the fullness of the harvest. Among the
most attractive are the harvest-home festivals in
Britain where, in the autumn, parish churches
are decorated with flowers, fruits and vegetables.
Harvest suppers where a community join
together to celebrate the bountiful harvest have
their beginnings in the pagan beliefs of the three
harvest sabbats

Folklore

The majority of people who are new to spell
working will acknowledge that for them common
sense backed up by practical action is normally
more productive than theoretical or mystical
thinking. In magical working, as in everyday life,
when we have to handle a wide range of
circumstances, common sense in dealing with
them will normally produce the best results.
However, when we are confronted with the
unusual or difficult, or are faced by extreme
anxiety, even the most practical-minded among us
will theorize in order to make sense of what is
happening. We have not moved such a long way
since those times, in the distant past, when our
ancestors and people around the world routinely
believed that if the crops failed then the gods must
be angry. Practices carried out then are still with
us in the form of many of the festivals and feasts,
which still have relevance in the societies where
they began. Some of you may choose not to use
the spells in this section, but they do offer a return
to basics and give fascinating insights into how
our ancestors dealt with everyday challenges.

FOLKLORE ON A Stopped Clock

Lets examine the curious and sometimes sinister superstitions that have grown up around clocks over the years, and related how a stopped clock was often related to a death in many folk beliefs. Now this widespread superstition comes in two main variants, firstly there is the common tradition that a clock is stopped when some one dies. These days most people are familiar with it from a scene in the popular film Fried Green Tomatoes (1991), and the origin of this funereal custom has prompted much speculation over the years.

A commonly touted explanation is that folks stopped the clock when a loved one died so that the time of death was recorded accurately for when the doctor or similar vassals of officialdom came a-calling. However while this theory sounds all well and good, there is a problem with it – for it assumes that in ages past, our ancestors recorded deaths on certificates like we do today. However, death certificates requiring a doctor’s signature and attested details such as time and cause of death are a relative modern phenomena, with centralized death records only coming into effect in the late 19th century, and in the US death certificates were not introduced until 1910. Before then, deaths were recorded in parish registers and required far less details. But there are many sources that record this superstition dating back well before modern death certification came into effect.

So then, what was the origin of the custom? Another theory that has been advanced is that in olden times, clocks were large and noisy, and hence to silence the loud ticking they made, they were stopped, so to allow mourners to grieve in silence. A variation of this theory states that clocks in the room where the deceased was laid out were stopped so mourners did not worry about how long they spent paying their respects! Again both of these theories sound ostensibly plausible, but actually do not entirely fit the lore we have recorded. For many variations of the belief hold that the clock should remain stopped until the body is carried out of the house for the funeral. Then, and only then, may the clock be started again. It was therefore, a kind of symbolic gesture, acknowledging that for the dear departed time itself had stopped. Indeed this is made clear in one of the earliest references to the belief. In 1825, the Newcastle Magazine reports that –
At a northern latewake… the clock is shrouded and stopped, to signify that time has become a blank (for the deceased)
It has been also speculated that stopping the clocks is also a sign to the deceased’s spirit that their life is over and they must now move on from this life; quite literally a way of telling the dead ‘your time has ran out’. However it is also very possible that it is related to our second famous superstition about stopped clocks – that a timepiece will mysteriously stop when a loved one dies.

Now in the world of folklore, cause and effect is often not a linear process. Many superstitions originate in the same magical philosophies that give rise to sympathetic magic. Everyone knows the famous example of this – the voodoo doll, but as we saw in a previous article on witch bottles, sympathetic magic was a two way street – hence an evil curse could be rebounded back to the sender by example the magical ‘sympathies’ that power the original spell. Hence stopping a clock when someone dies may be similarly exploiting a magical sympathy, in this case to prevent the Reaper making a second call to the household too soon.

Clocks that mysteriously stop when a death occurs is often thought to be merely a hokey old plot device, with many crediting a hit song, My Grandfather’s Clock for being the origin of this superstition. Certainly this perennial favourite, written by Henry Clay Work, is a very old work, being first published back in 1876 (and if you are not familiar with it, the lyrics will be reproduced at the end of this article). And it is true too that the song has been massively influential – for it is thanks to Work’s song that we call grandfather clocks by that term – previous to this ditty they were known as long case clocks, floor clocks or tall clocks!

However what few people realize is that the song was inspired by a true life case. In the north of England, there is a little town called Piercebridge which is home to an old pub, The George Inn. Some one hundred and sixty years ago, The George was a coaching inn, run by two brothers named Jenkins. Their pride and joy was a long case clock made by the famed Thompsons of Darlington, for at the time Thompson clocks were renowned for their precision and accuracy with many famous clock-makers learning their trade at James Thompson’s workshop on High Row in Darlington. And by all accounts, The George Inn’s clock was exceptionally accurate, a very handy thing for travelers to a coaching inn.

However when one of the Jenkins brothers died, the clock began to lose time on regular basis. And when the surviving brother passed away aged 90, the clock, although fully wound, stopped. The new manager of The George attempted to get the clock running again, and despite being examined and rebuilt by Thompsons, the clock would not run. And indeed it never ran again, and can still be seen to this very day in the foyer stuck at 11.30. Now Henry Clay Work stayed at The George in 1874 and heard the tale of the stopped clock, and was thus inspired to write his famous song.

So if My Grandfather’s Clock wasn’t the origin of this superstition, where did it originate? Well according to documents left by the King’s Clockmaker, a Mr Vullamy, a clock in the royal household mysteriously stopped when George III died in 1820. And this historical oddity has been claimed to be the inspiration for the belief. However even a small amount of research will uncover a host of similar stories, and it appears that rather than being a folk belief, clocks do stop when some one dies. Now skeptics of course will claim that this is merely a trick of probability – and that obviously some people will die at the exact moment a clock that can be seen by relatives stops.

However while invoking that old favourite agent of debunking, Coincidence, seems all very rational and scientific, at the same time it is hard not to feel a little chill when reading account after account of people reporting clocks and watches stopping at the moment of a death. Particularly when you have reports of modern digital and electrical timepieces suddenly stopping, and even multiple clocks stopping when the death occurs. It is apparently a common enough phenomena for many doctors and nurses to have noted it as something that happens often when some one dies.

Some have even theorized it may be some electro-magnetic effect, generated biologically when some one dies that is to blame, for it is a scientific fact some people’s bodies do carry a certain electro-magnetic charge that will stop any watch they wear. Perhaps when we start to see ourselves more as complex electromagnetic events than just bags of meat, when biology gains a deeper understanding of the electrical energies that are so vital to making us living, thinking creatures, science will get us an answer. Until then however we cannot rule out the Reaper’s bony fingers stopping the clocks to say “Time’s up…”

MY GRANDFATHER’S CLOCK
by Henry Clay Work

My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
His life’s seconds numbering,
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
It stopp’d short — never to go again —
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
His life’s seconds numbering,
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
It stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire —
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place — not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side.
But it stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
His life’s seconds numbering,
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
It stopp’d short — never to go again —
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night —
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight —
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
His life’s seconds numbering,
(tick, tock, tick, tock),
It stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died 

The Verdanthrope

In the deep recesses of the forest, a tale whispered by ancient trees and dreaded even by the shadows unfolded. The Verdanthrope — a creature carved from moss, branches, and the dark secrets of the woods — was more than mere legend. It was a dire warning.

Barely twice the height of a man, its unassuming size masked its sheer power and dread. Wherever humanity’s greed reached, encroaching upon nature’s sanctum, the Verdanthrope responded not just to those with the axe but to those who whispered orders in gilded halls, sealing nature’s fate with ink and parchment.

Villagers shared hushed tales of decision-makers who, after endorsing vast clearings, vanished from their opulent homes, leaving rooms filled with an eerie cold and the faint scent of moss. The Verdanthrope didn’t simply target. It stalked, blending seamlessly with nature, watching, waiting before it unleashed its dread.

“It doesn’t attack,” a shaken foreman once muttered, “It absorbs. You’re there one moment, and then… engulfed in green, lost to the forest.” Whispers spread of its ability to manipulate shadows, making the very forest come alive, turning every rustle, every creak into a harbinger of doom.

Its presence was a pulsating fear. While no one had seen it in its full terror, its silhouette, eerily human but wreathed in twisted branches, haunted dreams. Those who felt its presence spoke of a paralysing dread, the chilling realisation of being watched by eyes unseen but always felt.

Yet, beyond the terror it evoked lay an undeniable truth: The Verdanthrope was the forest’s last line of defence, a protector born from the heart of nature. It was a living testament to the price of disturbing the delicate balance. For in its silent watch, it bore a message — respect the balance, or face the verdant wrath of the forest’s guardian

Spiders in Myth and Folklore

Nearly all cultures have some sort of spider mythology, and folktales about these crawly creatures abound!

Hopi (Native American): In the Hopi creation story, Spider Woman is the goddess of the earth. Together with Tawa, the sun god, she creates the first living beings. Eventually, the two of them create First Man and First Woman – Tawa conceptualizes them while Spider Woman molds them from clay.

Greece: According to Greek legend, there was once a woman named Arachne who bragged that she was the best weaver around. This didn’t sit well with Athena, who was sure her own work was better. After a contest, Athena saw that Arachne’s work was indeed of higher quality, so she angrily destroyed it. Despondent, Arachne hanged herself, but Athena stepped in and turned the rope into a cobweb, and Arachne into a spider. Now Arachne can weave her lovely tapestries forever, and her name is where we get the word arachnid.

Africa: In West Africa, the spider is portrayed as a trickster god, much like Coyote in the Native American stories. Called Anansi, he is forever stirring up mischief to get the better of other animals. In many stories, he is a god associated with creation, either of wisdom or storytelling. His tales were part of a rich oral tradition and found their way to Jamaica and the Caribbean by way of the slave trade. Today, Anansi stories still appear in Africa.
Cherokee (Native American): A popular Cherokee tale credits Grandmother Spider with bringing light to the world. According to legend, in the early times, everything was dark and no one could see at all because the sun was on the other side of the world. The animals agreed that someone must go and steal some light and bring the sun back so people could see. Possum and Buzzard both gave it a shot, but failed – and ended up with a burned tail and burned feathers, respectively. Finally, Grandmother Spider said she would try to capture the light. She made a bowl of clay, and using her eight legs, rolled it to where the sun sat, weaving a web as she traveled. Gently, she took the sun and placed it in the clay bowl, and rolled it home, following her web. She traveled from east to west, bringing light with her as she came, and brought the sun to the people.

Celtic: Sharon Sinn of Living Library Blog says that in Celtic myth, the spider was typically a beneficial creature. She explains that the spider also has ties to the spinning loom and weaving, and suggests that this indicates an older, goddess-focused connection that has not been fully explored. The goddess Arianrhod is sometimes associated with spiders, in her role as a weaver of mankind’s fate.

In several cultures, spiders are credited with saving the lives of great leaders. In the Torah, there is a story of David, who would later become King of Israel, being pursued by soldiers sent by King Saul.

David hid in a cave, and a spider crawled in and built a huge web across the entrance. When the soldiers saw the cave, they didn’t bother to search it – after all, no one could be hiding inside it if the spider web was undisturbed. A parallel story appears in the life of the prophet Mohammed, who hid in a cave when fleeing his enemies. A giant tree sprouted in front of the cave, and a spider built a web between the cave and the tree, with similar results.

Some parts of the world see the spider as a negative and malevolent being. In Taranto, Italy, during the seventeenth century, a number of people fell victim to a strange malady which became known as Tarantism, attributed to being bitten by a spider. Those afflicted were seen to dance frenetically for days at a time. It’s been suggested that this was actually a psychogenic illness, much like the fits of the accusers in the Salem Witch Trials.

Spiders in Magic
If you find a spider roaming around your home, it’s considered bad luck to kill them. From a practical standpoint, they do eat a lot of nuisance insects, so if possible, just let them be or release them outside.

Rosemary Ellen Guiley says in her Encyclopedia of Witches, Witchcraft, and Wicca that in some traditions of folk magic, a black spider “eaten between two slices of buttered bread” will imbue a witch with great power. If you’re not interested in eating spiders, some traditions say that catching a spider and carrying it in a silk pouch around your neck will help prevent illness.

In some Neopagan traditions, the spider web itself is seen as a symbol of the Goddess and of the creation of life. Incorporate spider webs into meditation or spellwork relating to Goddess energy.

An old English folk saying reminds us that if we find a spider on our clothing, it means money is coming our way. In some variations, the spider on the clothes means simply that it’s going to be a good day. Either way, don’t disregard the message

Wyrd Scrying Spell


You will need the following items for this spell:

A wooden bowl
A small knife or chisel
Incense
Candle wax (optional)
Water
Begin by placing the wooden bowl on a flat surface. Take the chisel or knife and etch runes with speicifc and personal meaning into it. You may also wish to write your name to make it personalized. Get into a comfortable position. Fill the bowl with water now, and let it settle. Light the incense, of your choice, and spend a moment relaxing quietly, clearing your mind.

Call upon a specific deity that you wish to work with. Some like to call upon the Norns at this time, because they are the weavers of fate, and you will be attempting to read what they’ve woven. You may say something such as: “Three sisters, weavers of Wyrd, help me to see into the web that makes up the fates of myself, those I am connected to, and those I have yet to meet”. Close your eyes. In your mind, picture three women sitting in a circle with thread between them. This thread is wyrd. As they spin it, focus on it as much as you can.

Open your eyes, and peer into the water in the bowl. Spend as much time as you need looking into the waters. You may see something now, or you may not. Sometimes you will receive dreams later on. When calling upon the Norns you may wish to specify that you wish to receive dreams, if this is what you want.
An alternative to this would be to put drops of wax into the water and try to interpret them. 

The Berkeley Witch

In English folklore, the Berkeley Witch was a wealthy woman who lived during the time of the Norman Conquest in the town of Berkeley in England’s heartland. She was wealthy and well liked, and lived luxuriously. Her secret, kept until she was close to death, was that her wealth was given her by the Devil, in a pact for her soul. Apparently, she earned the name witch because she sold her soul to the Devil, which reflects the once-common belief that all witches made diabolic pacts.
According to lore, one evening as the Berkeley Witch ate at her dining table, her pet raven gave a single, harsh note and dropped dead. The woman recognized this as a sign that her end was near and that she would have to live up to her end of the bargain with the Devil. The beginning of the end was an onslaught of bad news, the first being the death of her oldest son and his entire family. She was so overwhelmed that she took to bed and grew weaker by the day. She confessed her pact to her two other children, who were a monk and a nun. It was determined that the only way to keep her out of the Devil’s clutches was to wrap her body in a stag’s skin, place it in a stone coffin bound with three magic IRON chains — for iron drives away the Devil and his hordes — and place the coffin upright in church. Psalms and masses were to be sung and said over the coffin for 40 days and 40 nights. Meanwhile, if the coffin were not violated by the Devil by the third day, her body could be buried in the church’s graveyard.
On the first night after her death, a horde of Demons appeared and broke one iron chain. They reappeared on the second night and broke a second chain. But the third chain remained impervious to the Demons’ efforts, despite the fact that the very church shook on its foundation, and doors splintered on their hinges.
Then a hideous figure appeared — the Devil himself — and bade the Berkeley Witch follow him. From inside the coffin she replied she could not, for she was bound. “I will unbind you, to your great loss,” the Devil answered. He tore away the chain, smashed the coffin and seized the living corpse of the witch. He strode outside, where there waited a huge, Demonic black horse covered with spikes. He threw the witch on the horse, and her corpse was pierced through with spikes. Her screams reportedly could be heard for miles, but for naught: the Devil leaped up on the horse and rode away into the night.

Yuxa, or Yuha (“Sly Snake”), the Queen of Serpents in Turkic folklore. 

 She manifests in every serpent that is at least 100 years old. She can become a beautiful maiden, and makes an excellent fairy wife.

A human husband must never speak of what she really is, or their family life will end, and if there have been no children, she may even kill him. But if they do have offspring, she leaves him to care for her children, and returns to her supernatural realm, both sad and angry.

There are many tales of a youth who meets Yuxa and falls in love; more rarely it is a maiden who loves Yuxa, in which case, as a generality, she will manifest as a young man.

In her natural form she is a serpent with a dragon’s head and can breathe fire. Sometimes she has two forelimbs, sometimes none, as she resembles a legless lizard aka sheltopusik, or an amphiuma. Her tail is a barbed weapon. She can protect or terrify.

===

Art: “Salamander” (1886), but more like an emphiuma, by British artist, author, printer and book designer Charles de Sousy Ricketts (1866-1931). Charles’ lifelong romantic partner was portrait painter Charles Haslewood Shannon (1863-1937) , met in art school. The “two Charleses” founded Vale Press and designed, illustrated, and printed books togethter. 

Faces of the Holly King

Names
Janicot, Woden, Odin, Gwyn ap Nudd, Arawn, Iuan, Krampus, Hod, Hob, Basajaun, Lucibello, Iu-Hu, Old Nick, Misrule, Pan, Baphomet, Scratch, Puck, Buccos

Station of the Wheel
Northwest, Yule, December, Glass Castle, Cold Moon

Totems
Goat, Holly, Wren

Tools
Glass Orb, Druid’s Egg or Glain y Nidir

The Holly King is a speculative archetype of modern studies of folklore and mythology which has been popularized in some Neopagan religions. In his book The White Goddess, the author Robert Graves proposed that the mythological figure of the Holly King represents one half of the year, while the other is personified by his counterpart/adversary the Oak King: the two battle endlessly as the seasons turn. At Midsummer the Oak King is at the height of his strength, while the Holly King is at his weakest. The Holly King begins to regain his power, and at the Autumn Equinox, the tables finally turn in the Holly King’s favor; he later vanquishes the Oak King at Yule. Graves identified a number of paired hero-figures which he believes are variants of this myth, including Lleu Llaw Gyffes and Gronw Pebr, Gwyn and Gwythr, Lugh and Balor, Balan and Balin, Gawain and the Green Knight, the robin and the wren, and even Jesus and John the Baptist.

Wōđanaz or *Wōđinaz is the reconstructed Proto-Germanic name of a god of Germanic paganism. Woden probably rose to prominence during the Migration period, gradually displacing Tyr as the head of the pantheon in West and North Germanic cultures.

Testimonies of the god are scattered over a wide range, both temporally and geographically. More than a millennium separates the earliest Roman accounts and archaeological evidence from the 1st century from the Odin of the Edda and later medieval folklore.

The name of Woden is connected to a Germanic root *wōd-, preserved in Gothic wôd- “possessed” and Old High German wuot “rage”. Old English had the noun wōþ “song, sound”, corresponding to Old Norse óðr, which has the meaning “mad furious” but also “song, poetry”. Modern English preserves an adjective wood in “dialectal or rare archaic use”, meaning “lunatic, insane, rabid”. The earliest attestation of the name is as wodan in an Elder Futhark inscription. For the Anglo-Saxons, Woden was the psychopomp or carrier-off of the dead, but not necessarily with exactly the same attributes of the Norse Odin.

A celebrated late attestation of invocation of Wodan in Germany dates to 1593, in Mecklenburg, where the formula Wode, Hale dynem Rosse nun Voder “Wodan, fetch now food for your horse” was spoken over the last sheaf of the harvest. David Franck adds, that at the squires’ mansions, when the rye is all cut, there is Wodel-beer served out to the mowers; no one weeds flax on a Wodenstag, lest Woden’s horse should trample the seeds; from Christmas to Twelfth-day they will not spin, nor leave any flax on the distaff, and to the question why? they answer, Wode is galloping across. We are expressly told, this wild hunter Wode rides a white horse.

Horned Women

In Irish legend, 12 horned women,
all witches, who take over the household of a rich woman
and bewitch her and her sleeping family. No reason for
the bewitching is given in the story—perhaps, in times
past, no reason was necessary, for witches were believed
to bewitch simply because they were witches. The legend
tells of how the distressed woman breaks the spell.
The bewitchment began late one night, as the woman
sat up carding wool while her family and servants slept. A
knock came on the door, and she asked who was there. A
female voice answered, “I am the Witch of the one Horn.”
The woman thought it was a neighbor and opened the
door. She was greeted by an ugly woman from whose forehead
grew a single horn. The witch held a pair of wool
carders. She sat down by the fire and began to card wool
with great speed. She suddenly paused and said, “Where
are the women? they delay too long.”

Another knock came on the door. The mistress of the
house, who seemed to be under a spell by now, felt compelled
to answer it. She was greeted by another witch,
who had two horns growing from her forehead, and who
carried a spinning wheel. This witch also sat down by the
fire and began to spin wool with great speed.
The house soon was filled with 12 frightful-looking,
horned witches, each one having an additional horn, so
that the last witch bore 12 horns on her forehead. They
worked furiously on the wool, singing an ancient tune,
ignoring the mistress, who was unable to move or call
for help.

Eventually, one of the witches ordered the mistress to
make them a cake, but the woman had no vessel with
which to fetch water from the well. The witches told her
to take a sieve to the well. She did, but the water ran
through the sieve, and she wept. While she was gone, the
witches made a cake, using blood drawn from members
of the sleeping family in place of water.

As she sat weeping by the well, the mistress heard a
voice. It was the Spirit of the Well, who told her how to
make a paste of clay and moss and cover the sieve, so that
it would hold water. It then instructed her to go back to
her house from the north and cry out three time, “The
mountain of the Fenian women and the sky over it is
all on fire.” The mistress did as instructed. The witches
shrieked and cried and sped off to the Slivenamon, “the
mountains of women,” where they lived.

The Spirit of the Well then told the mistress how to
break the witches’ spell and prevent them from returning.
She took the water in which she had bathed her children’s
feet and sprinkled it over the threshold of the house. She
took the blood cake, broke it into pieces and placed them
in the mouths of the bewitched sleepers, who were revived.
She took the woolen cloth the witches had woven
and placed it half in and half out of a padlocked chest. She
barred the door with a large crossbeam.

The witches returned in a rage at having been deceived.
Their fury increased when they discovered that
they could not enter the house because of the water, the
broken blood cake and the crossbeam. They flew off into
the air, screaming curses against the Spirit of the Well,
but they never returned. One of the witches dropped her
mantle, which the mistress took and hung up as a reminder
of her ordeal. The mantle remained in the family
for 500 years.
The legend of the horned women appears to be a blend
of pagan and Christian aspects. The well is inhabited by
a spirit, a common pagan belief. The horns of the witches
symbolize the maternal and nurturing aspect of the Goddess,
who is sometimes represented by a cow. The horns
also symbolize the crescent moon, another Goddess symbol.
In ancient Greek and Babylonian art, the Mother Goddess
often is depicted wearing a headdress of little horns.
Yet the horned women of the legend are not maternal and
nurturing but hags who cast an evil spell, fly through the
air and shriek curses—the portrayal of witches spread
by the Church. The cardinal point of north is associated
with power, darkness and mystery in paganism, but in
Christianlore it is associated with the Devil.

Goblins

In French folklore, wandering sprites who
attach themselves to households and both help and
plague the residents. Goblins live in grottoes but are
attracted to homes that have beautiful children and lots
of wine. When they move in, they help by doing household
chores at night and by disciplining children—giving
them presents when they are good and punishing
them when they are naughty. Goblins have an unpredictable,
mischievous nature, and instead of doing chores at
night will sometimes keep everyone awake by banging
pots and pans, moving furniture, knocking on walls and
doors and snatching bedclothes off sleeping persons.
Goblins who become tiresome can be persuaded to leave
by scattering flaxseed on the floor. The sprites get tired
of cleaning it up every night.

Goblins are the equivalent of brownies in England
and Scotland, kobalds in Germany, domoviks in Russia
and other sprites in other countries. They have become
associated with Halloween and are said to roam the night
when the veil is thinnest between the world of the living
and the world of the dead.

Bells

Bells Repellers of witches and evil spirits. Bells are
associated with the divine: their sound is symbolic of
creative power, their shape a symbol of the female force
and the celestial vault. The sound vibrations created by
the ringing of bells have been believed for centuries to
possess magical and/or spiritual power. Bells are used in
many religious rites. In Wicca and Paganism, small
hand bells may be rung in rituals to enhance harmony
and augment power. In African religions and Vodun,
bells and dancing are used to invoke the gods and loas
(see African witchcraft). Shamans have long used
magical bells in their rituals to chase away evil spirits.
In folk magic, the ringing of bells drives away evil
spirits, witches and the Devil himself, and wards off the
evil eye. Bells have been attached to clothing, worn as
amulets, tied to children and hung from the necks of
horses, camels, cows, asses and other animals important
to a community.
As fertility charms, bells have been worn on human
phalluses in certain rites. Bells are sometimes said to
have curative powers; medicine is drunk from them. In
the Middle Ages, bell ringing was believed to clear the
air of disease and was prescribed by some doctors. Bells
also have been used to raise the spirits of the dead and
fairies.
Since the fifth century c.e., Christian church bells
have been ascribed a special magical potency to combat
evil and chase off the wicked spirits that lurked on every
church threshold. In the Middle Ages, on nights when
witches were believed to be about, such as Samhain (All
Hallow’s Eve) and Beltane (also known as Walpurgisnacht),
church bells were rung to keep the witches from
flying over a village. The townspeople also turned out
and added to the noise by banging on pots and pans and
ringing their own bells. In witch trials, accused witches
bells 19
testified to being transported through the air to sabbats
on the backs of demons or the Devil, and to being thrown
off to fall to the ground when a church bell sounded in
the night.
Thunder and lightning storms were believed to be the
work of witches and demons, and church bells also would
be rung at an approaching storm in an attempt to dispel it.
At someone’s death, the tolling of the church bells helped
the departing soul on its way to heaven and prevented
evil spirits from interfering with the journey.
Church bells were baptized, named for saints and in
some cases, ascribed human characteristics. Some were
said to talk, ring on their own and sweat blood at the invasion
of their community. Medieval Europeans believed
that their church bells traveled to Rome on Good Friday;
everyone stayed inside so as not to witness their flight
from the belfries. A bell that missed the Good Friday pilgrimage
brought bad luck to the community.
Shopkeepers hung bells over their thresholds, not so
much to alert them to the entry of customers but to keep
evil spirits from entering their premises.
The Necromantic Bell of Giradius. Bells have been used in
rituals for summoning the dead. One such necromantic
bell is that of Giradius. Eighteenth-century French instructions
specified that the bell be cast from an alloy of
gold, silver, fixed mercury, tin, iron and lead at the exact
day and hour of birth of the person who intends to use
it. The bell was to be inscribed with various astrological
symbols and the magical words of Adonai, Jesus and the
Tetragrammaton (see names of power).
The bell was to be wrapped in green taffeta and placed
in the middle of a grave in a cemetery. It was to be left for
seven days, during which time it absorbed certain vibrations
and emanations. At the end of a week, the bell was
properly “cured” for necromancy rituals.

Folklorists, Thoughts & Festivals

Folklorists believe that the first festivals arose because of the anxieties of early peoples who did not understand the forces of nature and wished to placate them.

The people noted the times and seasons when food was plentiful or not and reacted accordingly.

Harvest and thanksgiving festivals, for instance, are a relic from the times when agriculture was the primary livelihood for the majority.

Festivals also provided an opportunity for the elders to pass on knowledge and the meaning of tribal lore to younger generations and give them the opportunity to let off steam in an acceptable yet controlled way.

A general agreement exists that the most ancient festivals and feasts were associated with planting and harvest times or with honoring the dead.

These have come down to us in modern times as celebrations with some religious overtones.

Harvest festivals are still carried out in many Christian churches and celebrate the fullness of the harvest.

Among the most attractive are the harvest-home festivals in Britain where, in the autumn, parish churches are decorated with flowers, fruits and vegetables.

Harvest suppers where a community joins together to celebrate the bountiful harvest have their beginnings in the pagan beliefs of the three harvest sabbats (Lughnasadh, Mabon and Samhain) belonging to the Wheel of the Year.

Herbal Folklore & Old Fashioned Tips

Anise
Romans paid taxes with anise, and it was used in cough drops.

Basil
Precious to lovers in Italy and considered sacred in India. Many years ago, Italian men wore a sprig of basil to indicate their intended marriage. A cup of basil tea after dinner helps digestion. Ease a headache by drinking tomato juice blended with fresh basil.

Borage
The Romans believed the herb to be an antidepressant, and ancient Celtic warriors took it for courage.

Caraway
Caraway was used to scent perfumes and soaps. The Greeks used it for upset stomachs.

Chervil
Eating a whole plant would cure hiccups; chervil was said to warm old and cold stomachs.

Chives
Bunches of chives hung in your home were used to drive away diseases and evil.

Dill
Romans made wreaths and garlands out of dill. Dill keeps witches away.

Fennel
Bunches of fennel were used to drive off witches. It was used in love potions and as an appetite suppressant.

Garlic
It was thought to give strength and courage. Aristotle noted garlic’s use as a guard against the fear of water. It’s also been widely used against evil powers.

Lovage
Chewing on a piece of the dried root will keep you awake. Lovage warms a cold stomach and help digestion. Added to bathwater, it was believed to relieve skin problems.

Marjoram
The Greeks believed it could revive the spirits of anyone who inhaled it. At weddings wreaths and garlands were made of marjoram.

Mint
It was believed to cure hiccups and counteract sea-serpent stings. The Romans wore peppermint wreaths on their heads. It was added to bathwater for its fragrance.

Oregano
Used for “sour humours” that plagued old farmers. Also used for scorpion and spider bites.

Parsley
Used for wreaths and in funeral ceremonies. Believed to repel head lice and attract rabbits.

Rosemary
Rosemary in your hair will improve your memory. It will protect you from evil spirits if you put a sprig under your pillow.

Sage
Thought to promote strength and longevity and believed to cure warts. American Indians used it as a toothbrush.

Summer Savory
It was believed to be an aphrodisiac. Some thought it was a cure for deafness.

Tarragon
Put in shoes before long walking trips to give strength. It has been used to relieve toothache and as an antifungal.

Thyme
Burning thyme gets rid of insects in your house. A bed of thyme was thought to be a home for fairies.

Jack-o’-Lantern

A phosphorescent light seen in marsh and swamp areas, which in folklore is either the manifestation of a malicious lost soul or a death omen.

Jacko’-lantern is known by various names, including will-o’-the-wisp and corpse light (England); fairy light, and fox fire (Ireland).

According to most legends, the jack-o’-lantern is a wandering soul who has been denied entry into both heaven and hell.

Clothed in a luminous garment or carrying a lighted wisp of straw, it drifts about at night, scaring travelers and beckoning them to follow it into the marshes.

Charms to protect oneself against the spirit include carrying an object made of iron, which is believed to repel evil spirits or sticking an iron knife into the ground.

In Ireland, children who are caught outdoors after dark are told to wear their jackets inside-out in order not to be lured astray by a jack-o’-lantern.

In Sweden, the spirit is believed to be the soul of an unbaptized child, who tries to lead travelers to water in hopes of receiving baptism.

The jack-o’-lantern also appears in American Indian and Appalachian folklore.

The Penobscot Indians call it the “fire demon,” who has lighted fingertips which it spins in a wheel, and skims the milk at dairies during the night.

In the Appalachians, mysterious, firelike balls of light appear in the hills at night and float, move and bob about the countryside.

Some are quite large and rise high into the air; others light up the surroundings like daylight.

In Africa, the jack-o’-lantern light is called a “witch-fire” and is believed to be the witch herself, flying through the air, or a light sent by the witch to scare wrongdoers.

As a corpse light, the eerie glow forecasts death in a household by hovering over a rooftop or even appearing on top of the chest of the person who is about to die.

Folklore & Spell Work

The majority of people who are new to spell working will acknowledge that for them common sense backed up by practical action is normally more productive than theoretical or mystical thinking.

In magical working, as in everyday life, when we have to handle a wide range of circumstances, common sense in dealing with them will normally produce the best results.

However, when we are confronted with the unusual or difficult or are faced with extreme anxiety, even the most practical-minded among us will theorize in order to make sense of what is happening.

We have not moved such a long way since those times, in the distant past, when our ancestors and people around the world routinely believed that if the crops failed then the gods must be angry.

Practices carried out then are still with us in the form of many of the festivals and feasts, which still have relevance in the societies where they began.

Some of you may choose not to use the spells in this section, but they do offer a return to basics and give fascinating insights into how our ancestors dealt with everyday challenges

Broom Folklore in Rural Cultures

The broom is one of those tools that most people have in their home – whether they’re a witch or not! In many rural cultures, the broom has become a source of legend and folklore. Here are just a few of the many beliefs people have about brooms and sweeping.

James Kambos says in Llewellyn’s 2011 Magical Almanac, “When misfortune was thought to have entered a home, one old German custom was to sweep the home, thus sweeping away any negativity. Each family member would grab a broom and begin sweeping. Starting at the center of the home, they’d sweep outward toward all exterior doors. As they swept, they’d open the front and back doors and sweep out the negativity.”

In the Appalachian region of the United States, many customs were brought over from Scotland, England and Ireland. It is believed that laying a broom across your doorstep will keep witches out of your house. However, be careful – if a girl steps over a broom by accident, she’ll end up becoming a mother before she gets married (this belief may have originated in Yorkshire, as there are similar warnings in that area).

People in parts of China say that a broom should only be used for household chores like sweeping because it is so strongly tied to the household spirits. It shouldn’t be used for playing or whacking people with, because that is offensive to the household entities.

There’s an old tale in the Ozarks that you should never sweep a house while there’s a dead body in it – although one would assume that if there’s a dead body in the house, you’ve got other things on your mind besides housecleaning.

Some African tribes believe that men should leave the house while women are sweeping. The reason? Because if they are accidentally struck by the broom, it could render them impotent – unless they take the broom and bang it on the wall three times (some legends say seven times).Edit

Baba Yaga

In Russian folklore, a female witch who loved to roast and eat people, preferably children.

She was as likely to pop a niece in the oven as she was a stranger.

She lived in a little hut beyond a river of fire in the “thrice tenth kingdom.”

The hut was ringed with stakes topped by human heads.

It stood on chickens’ legs and dogs’ heels and turned on command.

Those who were brave enough to enter the hut usually found Baba Yaga lying on the floor with her right leg in one corner and her left leg in another, sometimes with her nose growing into the ceiling.

The Bony-Legged One, as Baba Yaga often was called, would cackle at her guests, “Fie! Fie! I smell a Russian bone!” If she didn’t try to get them into the oven, she gave them advice.

Baba Yaga possessed a magic wand and flew in an iron mortar (cauldron) that she spurred on with a pestle as she swept away her tracks with a broom. She had two or three sisters, also called Baba Yaga.

The Meeting of Pagan and Christian

Ways of dealing with problems within the community, which used a blend of Christian and pagan rituals, was partly a product of the interaction between Christianity and paganism.

Pagan belief demanded rituals that appeased their gods while Christian thought required that there was a focus on only one God.

This meant that such rituals belonging to the Wheel of the Year had to be accommodated into a more acceptable framework.

The local clergy, therefore, became agents of this assimilation process.

The mixing of liturgical, medical, and folklore medicine was a whole medley of ideas as to how nature functioned.

The line between these ideas was very unclear  rite blended into medical practice or was mixed with apparently magical, and certainly ceremonial, pre-Christian practices.

This coming together is evident in a charm ritual for blessing the land, the Aecerbot ritual, which was performed yearly and is still retained centuries later on Plough Monday (usually the
first Monday after Epiphany – 6 January).

Originally an Anglo-Saxon fertility ritual, it was gradually Christianized.

In this agricultural or field remedy for witchcraft, four pieces of turf were taken from the four corners of the land, along with other agricultural products such as fruit, honey, herbs, and milk as well as holy water.

Certain words (such as ‘grow’ and ‘increase’) were said in Latin over these goods.

The individual turfs were then anointed and blessed along with the fruits of the farmer’s labour, taken to church and placed carefully under the altar.

The priest then said four masses over the altar.

The turf was placed back in the ground before sunset, along with four crosses marked with the name of the Apostles.

Similar words and prayers to those above were said, including a specially written prayer calling on God, the earth and heavens to help in bringing forth the power of the earth for a successful crop.

The ritual was closed by the owner of the field turning around three times while reciting Christian prayers.

There followed a similar ritual for blessing the plough using herbs and other sacred items.

The strong similarities to the rites calling upon Mother Earth and the Sun God in pre-Christian rituals are quite marked.

Historic customs are often perpetuated in seasonal festivals.

One example is Homstrom (celebrated on the first Sunday in February), which is an old Swiss festival exulting in the end of winter with the burning of straw people as symbols of the end of Old Man Winter or the Old God.

A similar sort of festival has recently been revived in Scotland round Lammas-tide.

Following the success of the 1970s film The Wicker Man, which highlighted an ancient pagan festival, today this gathering has been given new meaning as an alternative music festival.

The ceremonial burnings commemorate the sacrifices which our ancestors needed in order to feel that they had done what was necessary to achieve a plentiful harvest.

A similar celebration takes place at Queensferry on the east coast of Scotland in August, when the Burryman parades through the town and finishes his day covered with burrs (sticky balls of seeds), possibly representing all the irritations that the townspeople wish to get rid of before the winter.

If you want to celebrate in the same way you might like to make a corn dolly in the shape of a man.

Merlin

Archetypal wizard of Arthurian lore. Merlin is a Latinized version of the Welsh Myrddin.

His exact origins are lost in myth; he may have been a god, perhaps a version of Mabon or Maponos, the British Apollo, the divine ruler or guardian of Britain.

The name Merlin may have been given to a succession of wizards.

There is no concrete evidence, but it is likely that a Merlin, who was a prophet or a bard,  existed toward the end of the fifth century and has become the basis for the Merlin myths.

Merlin’s first appearance in literature occurs in the Latin works of Geoffrey of Monmouth, a 12th-century Welsh cleric.

The Prophecies of Merlin, written in the early 1130s, comprise verses of prophecies made by an alleged man of the fifth century, named Merlin.

Monmouth made up many of the prophecies, which stretched beyond the 12th century.

In the History of the Kings of Britain, which Monmouth finished around 1135–36 and which laid the foundation for the Arthurian legends, Merlin becomes a character, though Monmouth muddles chronology by placing him in both the fifth and sixth centuries.

He is a magical boy, born of a union between a mortal woman and a spirit (a daemon, which later Christian writers interpreted as the Devil).

He has great magical powers of prophecy and matures quickly.

Merlin uses magic to bring great stones from Ireland to the Salisbury Plain for the building of Stonehenge and arranges for King Uther Pendragon to seduce Ygerna, who bears the infant Arthur.

At that point, Arthur vanishes from Monmouth’s story.

He reappears in a third poetic work, The Life of Merlin, in which he has a sister, Ganieda, who also has a prophetic vision.

Vita Merlini, written by Monmouth around 1150, his biography of the adult Merlin, but it is also a text of Western magical and spiritual enlightenment.

It sets down oral lore of mythology, cosmography, cosmology, natural history, psychology and what are now called archetypes of the human personality.

In 1150 a French poetical version of History of the Kings of Britain has Arthur constructing his Round Table under the aegis of Merlin.

The best-known portrait of Merlin comes from Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, published in 1485, a romantic tale in which the infant Arthur is raised by Merlin.

Upon the death of Uther Pendragon, Merlin presents the youth Arthur to the knights of the land and has him prove he is heir to the throne by withdrawing the sword Excalibur from the stone in which it is embedded.

Merlin serves as Arthur’s magical adviser but disappears from the story early in Arthur’s reign.

He is brought down by his passion for Nimue, or Viviane, a damsel of the lake who tricks him into revealing the secret of constructing a magical tower of air, which she uses to imprison him.

In contemporary fiction, Merlin usually is presented as a wise old man, despite his youthfulness in early writings.

It may be said that he has three aspects: youth, the mature prophet, and the wise elder.

He has been subject to many interpretations: magician, mystic, shaman, lord of the earth and animals, seer of all things, embodiment of time and trickster