Chapter 28a of The Golden Bough This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For further information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Golden Bough by Sir James Fraser. Chapter 28a The Killing of the Tree Spirit 1. The Witsentide Mummers It remains to ask what light the custom of killing the Divine, King or Priest sheds upon the special subject of our inquiry. In an earlier part of this work we saw reason to suppose that the King of the Wood at Nami was regarded as an incarnation of a tree spirit or of the spirit of vegetation, and that as such he would be endowed in the belief of his worshippers with a magical power of making the trees to bear fruit, the crops to grow, and so on. His life must therefore have been held very precious by his worshippers and was probably hedged in by a system of elaborate precautions or taboos, like those by which, in so many places, the life of the man-god has been guarded against the malignant influence of demons and sorcerers. But we have seen that the very value attached to the life of the man-god necessitates his violent death as the only means of preserving it from the inevitable decay of age. The same reasoning would apply to the King of the Wood. He too had to be killed in order that the divine spirit incarnate in him might be transferred in its integrity to his successor. The rule that he held office till a stronger should slay him might be supposed to secure both the preservation of his divine life in full vigor and its transference to a suitable successor as soon as that vigor began to be impaired. For so long as he could maintain his position by the strong hand, it might be inferred that his natural force was not abated, whereas his defeat and death at the hands of another proved that his strength was beginning to fail and that it was time his divine life should be lodged in a less dilapidated tabernacle. This explanation of the rule that the King of the Wood had to be slain by his successor at least renders that rule perfectly intelligible. It is strongly supported by the theory and practice of the Shilok, who put their divine King to death at the first signs of failing health, lest his decrepitude should entail a corresponding failure of vital energy on the corn, the cattle, and men. Moreover, it is countenanced by the analogy of the Chitome upon whose life the existence of the world was supposed to hang, and who was therefore slain by his successor as soon as he showed signs of breaking up. Again, the terms on which in later times the King of Calicut held office are identical with those attached to the office of King of the Wood, except that whereas the former might be assailed by a candidate at any time, the King of Calicut might only be attacked once every twelve years. But as the leave granted to the King of Calicut to reign so long as he could defend himself against all comers was a mitigation of the old rule which set a fixed term to his life, so we may conjecture that the similar permission granted to the King of the Wood was a mitigation of an older custom of putting him to death at the end of a definite period. In both cases the new rule gave to the God-man at least a chance for his life, which under the old rule was denied him, and people probably reconciled themselves to the change by reflecting that so long as the God-man could maintain himself by the sword against all assaults there was no reason to apprehend that the fatal decay had set in. The conjecture that the King of the Wood was formally put to death at the expiry of a fixed time without being allowed a chance for his life will be confirmed if evidence can be reduced of a custom of periodically killing his counterparts, the human representatives of the tree spirit in northern Europe. Now in point of fact, such a custom has left unmistakable traces of itself in the rural festivals of the peasantry. To take examples. At Niederpirling in lower Bavaria the wits-and-tide representative of the tree spirit, the Pfinkstil, as he was called, was clad from top to toe in leaves and flowers. On his head he wore a high-pointed cap, the ends of which rested on his shoulders, only two holes being left in it for his eyes. The cap was covered with water-flowers and surmounted with a nose-gay of peonies. The sleeves of his coat were also made of water-plants and the rest of his body was enveloped in alder and hazel leaves. On each side of him marched a boy holding up one of the Pfinkstil's arms. These two boys carried drawn swords and so did most of the others who formed the procession. They stopped at every house where they hoped to receive a present and the people in hiding soused the leaf-clad boy with water, all rejoiced when he was well drenched.  At Vormlingen in Swabia a score of young fellows dressed themselves on Witt Monday in white shirts and white trousers with red scarves round their waists and swords hanging from the scarves. They ride on horseback into the wood led by two trumpeters blowing their trumpets. In the wood they cut down leafy oak branches in which they enveloped from head to foot him who was the last of their number to ride out of the village. His legs however are encased separately so that he may be able to mount his horse again. Further they give him a long artificial neck with an artificial head and a false face on the top of it. Then a maitre is cut, generally an aspen or beech about ten feet high, and being decked with coloured handkerchiefs and ribbons it is entrusted to a special May bearer. The cavalcade then returns with music and song to the village.  They halt on the village green and each of the characters makes a speech in rhyme. The executioner announced that the leafclad man has been condemned to death and cuts off his false head. Then the riders race to the maitre which has been set up a little way off. The first man who succeeds in wrenching it from the ground as he gallops past keeps it with all its decorations. The ceremony is observed every second or third year. In Saxony and Turingen there is a wits-and-tide ceremony called chasing the wild man out of the bush or fetching the wild man out of the wood. A young fellow is enveloped in leaves or moss and called the wild man. He hides in the wood and the other lads of the village go out to seek him. They find him, lead him captive out of the wood and fire at him with blank muskets. He falls like dead to the ground, but a lad dressed as a doctor bleeds him and he comes to life again. At this they rejoice and, binding him fast on a wagon, take him to the village where they tell all the people how they have caught the wild man. At every house they receive a gift. In the Erzgebirge the following custom was annually observed at Shrovetide about the beginning of the 17th century. Two men disguised as wild men, the one in brushwood and moss, the other in straw, were led about the streets and at last taken to the marketplace where they were chased up and down, shot and stabbed. Before falling they reeled about with strange gestures and spurted blood on the people from bladders which they carried. When they were down the huntsmen placed them on boards and carried them to the alehouse, the miners marching beside them and winding blasts on their mining tools as if they had taken a noble head of game. A very similar Shrovetide custom is still observed near Shlokonau in Bohemia. A man dressed up as a wild man is chased through several streets till he comes to a narrow lane across which a cord is stretched. He stumbles over the cord and falling to the ground is overtaken and caught by his pursuers. The executioner runs up and stabs with his sword a bladder filled with blood which the wild man wears round his body, so the wild man dies, while a stream of blood reddens the ground. Next day a straw man, made up to look like the wild man, is placed on a litter and accompanied by a great crowd is taken to a pool into which it is thrown by the executioner. The ceremony is called Burying the Carnival. In Cemitz, Bohemia, the custom of beheading the king is observed on Wit Monday. A group of young people disguise themselves, each his gert with a girdle of bark and carries a wooden sword and a trumpet of willow bark. The king wears a robe of tree bark adorned with flowers. On his head is a crown of bark decked with flowers and branches. His feet are wound about with ferns. A mask hides his face, and for a scepter he has a hawthorn switch in his hand.  In every farmhouse the king is chased round the room, and one of the troop, amid much noise and outcry, strikes with his sword a blow on the king's robe of bark till it rings again. Then a gratuity is demanded. The ceremony of decapitation, which is here somewhat slurred over, is carried out with a greater semblance of reality in other parts of Bohemia. Thus in some villages of the Kunigretz district on Wit Monday the girls assemble under one lime tree and the young men under another, all dressed in their best and tricked out with ribbons. The young men twine a garland for the queen and the girls another for the king. When they have chosen the king and queen they all go in procession two and two to the alehouse, from the balcony of which the cry proclaims the names of the king and queen. Both of them invested with the insignia of their office and are crowned with the garlands, while the music plays up. Then someone gets on a bench and accuses the king of various offenses, such as ill-treating the cattle. The king appeals to witnesses and a trial ensues, at the close of which the judge, who carries a white wand as his badge of office, pronounces a verdict of guilty or not guilty. If the verdict is guilty the judge breaks his wand and the king kneels on a white cloth. All heads are bared and a soldier sets three or four hats, one above the other, on his majesty's head. The judge then pronounces the word guilty, thrice in a loud voice, and orders the cryer to behead the king. The cryer obeys by striking off the king's hat with his wooden sword. But perhaps, for our purposes, the most instructive of these mimic executions is the following Bohemian one. In some places of the Pilsen district, Bohemia, on Whitmonday the king is dressed in bark ornamented with flowers and ribbons. He wears a crown of gilt paper and rides a horse which is also decked with flowers. Attended by a judge, an executioner, and other characters, and followed by a train of soldiers, all mounted, he rides to the village square, where a hut or arbor of green boughs has been erected under the May trees, which affers, freshly cut, peeled to the top, and dressed with flowers and ribbons. After the dames and maidens of the village have been criticised, and a frog beheaded, the cavalcade rides to a place previously determined upon in a straight, broad street. Here they draw up two lines, and the king takes to flight. He is given a short start, and rides off at full speed, pursued by the whole troop. If they fail to catch him, he remains king for another year, and his companions must pay his score at the alehouse in the evening. But if they overtake him and catch him, he is scourged with hazel rods, and beaten with wooden swords, and compelled to dismount. Then the executioner asks, shall I behead this king? The answer is given, behead him. The executioner brandishes his axe, and with the words, One, two, three, let the king headless be. He strikes off the king's crown. Amid the loud cries of the bystanders, the king sinks to the ground. Then he is laid on a beer, and carried to the nearest farmhouse. In most of the personages who are thus slain in mimicry, it is impossible not to recognise representatives of the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation, as he is supposed to manifest himself in spring. The bark leaves and flowers in which the actors are dressed, and the season of the year at which they appear, show that they belong to the same class as the grass king, king of the may, jack in the green, and other representatives of the vernal spirit of vegetation, which we examined in an earlier part of this work. As if to remove any possible doubt on this head, we find that in two cases these slain men are brought into direct connection with maytrees, which are the impersonal, as the may king, grass king, and so forth, are the personal representatives of the tree spirit. The drenching of the finkstil with water, and his wading up to the middle into the brook, are therefore, no doubt, rain charms, like those which have been already described. But if these personages represent, as they certainly do, the spirit of vegetation in spring, the question arises, why kill them? What is the object of slaying the spirit of vegetation at any time and above all in spring, when his services are most wanted? The only probable answer to this question seems to be given in the explanation already proposed of the custom of killing the divine king or priest. The divine life, incarnate in a material and mortal body, is liable to be tainted and corrupted by the weakness of the frail medium in which it is for a time enshrined. And if it is to be saved from the increasing enfeeblement, which it must necessarily share with its human incarnation, as he advances in years, it must be detached from him before, or at least as soon as, he exhibits signs of decay in order to be transferred to a vigorous successor. This is done by killing the old representative of the God and conveying the divine spirit from him to a new incarnation. The killing of the God, that is, of his human incarnation, is therefore merely a necessary step to his revival or resurrection in a better form. Far from being an extinction of the divine spirit, it is only the beginning of a purer and stronger manifestation of it. If this explanation holds good of the custom of killing divine kings and priests in general, it is still more obviously applicable to the custom of annually killing the representative of the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation in spring. For the decay of plant life in winter is readily interpreted by primitive man as an enfeeblement of the spirit of vegetation. The spirit has, he thinks, grown old and weak and must therefore be renovated by being slain and brought to life in a younger and fresher form. Thus the killing of the representative of the tree spirit in spring is regarded as a means to promote and quicken the growth of vegetation. For the killing of the tree spirit is associated always, we must suppose, implicitly and sometimes explicitly also, with the revival or resurrection of him in a more youthful and vigorous form. So, in the Saxon and Turingan custom, after the wild man has been shot, he is brought to life again by a doctor. And in the Wormningen ceremony, their figures are Dr. Ironbeard who probably once played a similar part. Certainly in another spring ceremony, which will be described presently, Dr. Ironbeard pretends to restore a dead man to life. But of this revival or resurrection of the God, we shall have more to say and on. The points of similarity between these North European personages and the subject of our inquiry, the king of the wood or priest of Nemi, are sufficiently striking. In these northern maskers, we see kings whose dress of bark and leaves, along with the hut of green boughs and the fir trees under which they hold their court, proclaim them unmistakably as, like their Italian counterpart, kings of the wood. Like him they die a violent death, but like him they may escape from it for a time by their bodily strength and agility. For in several of these northern customs, the flight and pursuit of the king is a prominent part of the ceremony, and in one case at least, if the king can outrun his pursuers, he retains his life and his office for another year. In this last case, the king in fact holds office on condition of running for his life once a year, just as the king of Calicut in later times, held office on condition of defending his life against all comers once every twelve years, and just as the priest of Nemi held office on condition of defending himself against any assault at any time. In every one of these instances, the life of the god-man is prolonged on condition of his showing in a severe physical contest of fight or flight, that his bodily strength is not decayed, and that therefore the violent death, which soon or later is inevitable, may for the present be postponed. With regard to flight it is noticeable that flight figured conspicuously both in the legend and in the practice of the king of the wood. He had to be a runaway slave in memory of the flight of Arestes, the traditional founder of the worship. Hence the kings of the wood are described by an ancient writer as both strong of hand and fleet of foot. Perhaps if we knew the ritual of the Aresian grove fully we might find that the king was allowed a chance for his life by flight, like his Bohemian brother. I have already conjectured that the annual flight of the priestly king of Rome, Regi Fulgium, was at first a flight of the same kind, in other words that he was originally one of those divine kings, who are either put to death after a fixed period, or allowed to prove by the strong hand or the fleet foot that their divinity is vigorous and unimpaired. One more point of resemblance may be noted between the Italian king of the wood and his northern counterparts. In Saxony and Turingon the representative of the tree spirit, after being killed, is brought to life again by a doctor. This is exactly what legend affirmed to have happened to the first king of the wood at Neimi, Hippolytus or Virbius, who after he had been killed by his horses, was restored to life by the physician Isculapius. Such a legend tallies well with the theory that the slaying of the king of the wood was only a step to his revival or resurrection in his successor. 2. Burying the Carnival Thus far I have offered an explanation of the rule which required that the priest of Neimi should be slain by his successor. The explanation claims to be no more than probable. Our scanty knowledge of the custom and of its history forbids it to be more, but its probability will be augmented in proportion to the extent to which the motives and modes of thought which it assumes can be proved to have operated in primitive society. Here the two, the god with whose death and resurrection we have been chiefly concerned, has been the tree god. But if I can show that the custom of killing the god and the belief in his resurrection originated, or at least existed, in the hunting and pastoral stage of society, when the slain god was an animal, and that it survived into the agricultural stage, when the slain god was the corn or a human being representing the corn, the probability of my explanation would have been considerably increased. This I shall attempt to do in the sequel, and in the course of the discussion I hope to clear up some obscurities which still remain, and to answer some objections which may have suggested themselves to the reader. We start from the point at which we left off, the spring customs of European peasantry. Besides the ceremonies already described, there are two kindred sets of observances in which the simulated death of a divine or supernatural being is a conspicuous feature. In one of them the being whose death is dramatically represented is a personification of the carnival, in the other it is death himself. The former ceremony falls naturally at the end of the carnival, either on the last day of that merry season, namely Shrove Tuesday, or on the first day of Lent, namely Ash Wednesday. The date of the other ceremony, the carrying or driving out of death as it is commonly called, is not so uniformly fixed. Generally it is the fourth Sunday in Lent, which hence goes by the name of Dead Sunday, but in some places the celebration falls a week earlier, in others, as among the Czechs of Bohemia, a week later. While in certain German villages of Moravia, it is held on the first Sunday after Easter. Perhaps, as has been suggested, the date may originally have been variable, depending on the appearance of the first swallow or some other herald of the spring. Some writers regard the ceremony as Slavonic in its origin. Grimm thought it was a festival of the new year with the old Slavs who began their year in March. We shall first take examples of the mimic death of the carnival, which always falls before the other in the calendar. At Frosinone, in Laetium, about halfway between Rome and Naples, the dull monotony of life in a provincial Italian town is agreeably broken on the last day of the carnival, by the ancient festival known as the Radica. About four o'clock in the afternoon the town band, playing lively tunes, and followed by a great crowd, proceeds to the Piazza del Plebiscito, where is the sub-prefecture as well as the rest of the government buildings. Here, in the middle of the square, the eyes of the expectant multitude are greeted by the sight of an immense car decked with many coloured festoons and drawn by four horses. Mounted on the car is a huge chair on which sits enthroned the majestic figure of the carnival, a man of stucco about nine feet high with a rubicund and smiling countenance. Enormous boots, a tin helmet like those which grace the heads of officers of the Italian marine, and a coat of many colours embellished with strange devices, adorn the outward man of this stately personage. His left hand rests on the arm of the chair, while with his right he gracefully salutes the crowd, being moved to this act of civility by a string which is pulled by a man who modestly shrinks from publicity under the mercy-seat. And now the crowd, surging excitedly round the car, gives vent to its feelings in wild cries of joy, gentle and simple being mixed up together, and all dancing furiously the Saltarello. A special feature of the festival is that everyone must carry in his hand what is called a radica, or root, by which is meant a huge leaf of the aloe, or rather the agave.  When the multitude, after a short turn, has escorted the slow-moving car to the gate of the sub-prefecture, they halt, and the car, jostling over the uneven ground, rumbles into the courtyard. A hush now falls on the crowd, their subdued voices sounding, according to the description of one who has heard them, like the murmur of a troubled sea. All eyes are turned anxiously to the door from which the sub-prefect himself and the other representatives of the majesty of the law are expected to issue and pay their homage to the hero of the hour. A few moments of suspense and then a storm of cheers and hand clapping salutes the appearance of the dignitaries as they file out, and descending the staircase take their place in the procession. The hymn of the carnival is now thundered out, after which, amid a deafening roar, aloe leaves and cabbages are world aloft, and descend impartially on the heads of the just and the unjust, who lend fresh zest to the proceedings by engaging in a free fight. When these preliminaries have been concluded to the satisfaction of all concerned, the procession gets underway. The rear is brought up by a cart laden with barrels of wine and policemen. The latter engaged in the congenial task of serving out wine to all who ask for it, while a most internecine struggle, accompanied by a copious discharge of yells, blows and blasphemy, goes on among the surging crowd at the cart's tail, in their anxiety not to miss the glorious opportunity of intoxicating themselves at the public expense. Finally, after the procession has paraded the principal streets in this majestic manner, the effigy of carnival is taken to the middle of a public square, stripped of his finery, laid on a pile of wood and burnt amid the cries of the multitude, who, thundering out once more the song of the carnival, fling their so-called roots on the pyre and give themselves up without restraint to the pleasures of the dance. In the abruzzi, a paste-bored figure of the carnival, is carried by four grave-diggers, with pipes in their mouths and bottles of wine slung at their shoulder belts. In front walks the wife of the carnival, dressed in mourning and dissolved in tears. From time to time the company halts, and while the wife addresses the sympathising public, the grave-diggers refresh the inner man with a pool at the bottle. In the open square the mimic corpse is laid on a pyre, until the roll of drums, the shrill screams of the women, and the gruffer cries of the men, a light is set to it. While the figure burns, chestnuts are thrown about among the crowd. Sometimes the carnival is represented by a straw man, at the top of a pole which is borne through the town by a troop of mummers in the course of the afternoon. When evening comes on, four of the mummers hold out a quilt or sheet by the corners, and the figure of the carnival is made to tumble into it. The procession is then resumed, the performers weeping crocodile tears and emphasising the poignancy of their grief by the help of saucepans and dinner-bells. Sometimes again in the abruzzi the dead carnival is personified by a living man who lies in a coffin, attended by another who acts the priest, and dispenses holy water in great profusion from a bathing tub. At Lerida in Catalonia, the funeral of the carnival was witnessed by an English traveller in 1877. On the last Sunday of the carnival a great procession of infantry, cavalry and maskers of many sorts, some on horseback and some in carriages, escorted the grand car of his grace, Paul P. as the effigy was called, in triumph through the principal streets. For three days the revelry ran high, and then at midnight on the last day of the carnival the same procession again wound through the streets, but under a different aspect and for a different end. The triumphal car was exchanged for a hearse in which reposed the effigy of his dead grace. A troupe of maskers who in the first procession had played the part of students of folly with many a merry quip and jest, now robed as priests and bishops, paced slowly along, holding aloft huge lighted tapers and singing a dirge. All the mummers wore crepe and all the horsemen carried blazing flambeau. Down the high street between the lofty many storied and balconyed houses where every window, every balcony, every house top was crammed with a dense mass of spectators, all dressed and masked in fantastic gorgeousness, the procession took its melancholy way. Over the scene flashed and played the shifting crosslights and shadows from the moving torches, red and blue Bengal lights flared up and died out again, and above the trampling of the horses and the measured tread of the marching multitude rose the voices of the priests chanting the requiem, while the military band struck in with the solemn roll of the muffled drums. On reaching the principal square the procession halted, a burlesque funeral oration was pronounced over the defunct pal pea and the lights were extinguished. Immediately the devil and his angels darted from the crowd, seized the body and fled away with it, hotly pursued by the whole multitude, yelling, screaming and cheering. Naturally the fiends were overtaken and dispersed, and the sham corpse, rescued from their clutches, was laid in a grave that had been made ready for its reception. Thus the carnival of 1877 at Lerida died and was buried. A ceremony of the same sort is observed in Provence on Ash Wednesday.  At the head of the procession are some men disguised as judges and barristers and a tall gaunt personage, whom are scourades as lent. Behind them follow young people mounted on miserable hacks and are tired as mourners, who pretend to bewail the fate that is in store for caramantran. In the principal square the procession halts, the tribunal is constituted and caramantran placed at the bar. After a formal trial he is sentenced to death amid the groans of the mob. The barrister who defended him embraces his client for the last time. The officers of justice do their duty. The condemned is set with his back to a wall and hurried into eternity under a shower of stones. The sea or a river receives his mangled remains. Throughout nearly the whole of the Ardennes it was and still is customary on Ash Wednesday to burn an effigy which is supposed to represent the carnival, while appropriate verses are sung round the blazing figure. Very often an attempt is made to fashion the effigy in the likeness of the husband who is reputed to be least faithful to his wife of any in the village. As might perhaps have been anticipated, the distinction of being selected for portraiture under these painful circumstances has a slight tendency to breed domestic jars, especially when the portrait is burnt in front of the house of the gay deceiver whom it represents. While a powerful chorus of catawalls, groans and other melodious sounds bears public testimony to the opinion which his friends and neighbours entertain of his private virtues. In some villages of the Ardennes, a young man of flesh and blood dressed up in hay and straw used to act the part of Shrove Tuesday. Mardi Gras as the personification of the carnival is often called in France after the last day of the period which he personates. He was brought before a mock tribunal and being condemned to death was placed with his back to a wall like a soldier at a military execution and fired at with blank cartridges. A devrine au bois, one of these harmless profunes, named Thierry, was accidentally killed by a wad that had been left in a musket of the firing party. When poor Shrove Tuesday dropped under the fire, the applause was loud and long. He did it so naturally, but when he did not get up again, they ran to him and found him a corpse. Since then there have been no more of these mock executions in the Ardennes. In Normandy, on the evening of Ash Wednesday, it used to be the custom to hold a celebration called the burial of Shrove Tuesday. A squalid effigy, scantily clothed in rags, a battered old hat crushed down on his dirty face, his great round porch stuffed with straw, represented the disreputable old rake who, after a long course of dissipation, was now about to suffer for his sins. Hoisted on the shoulders of a sturdy fellow who pretended to stagger under the burden, this popular personification of the carnival promenaded the streets for the last time in a manner the reverse of triumphal. Proceeded by a drummer and accompanied by a jeering rabble, among whom the urchins and all the tag-rag and bobtail of the town mustered in great force, the figure was carried about by the flickering light of torches to the discordant din of shovels and tongs, pots and pans, horns and kettles mingled with hootings, groans and hisses. From time to time the procession halted, and a champion of morality accused the broken-down old sinner of all the excesses he had committed, and for which he was now about to be burnt alive. The culprit, having nothing to urge in his own defence, was thrown on a heap of straw, a torch was put to it, and a great blaze shot up to the delight of the children, who frisked round it, screaming out some old popular verses about the death of the carnival. Sometimes the effigy was rolled down the slope of a hill before being burnt. At San Loh the ragged effigy of Shrove Tuesday was followed by his widow, a big burly lout dressed as a woman with a crepe veil, who emitted sounds of lamentation and woe in a stentorian voice. After being carried about the streets on a litter, attended by a crowd of maskers, the figure was thrown into the river Vir. The final scene has been graphically described by Madame Octave Foye, as she witnessed it in her childhood some sixty years ago. My parents invited friends to see, from the top of the tower of Yanquiyar, the funeral procession passing. It was there that, quaffing lemonade, the only refreshment allowed because of the fast, we witnessed at nightfall, a spectacle of which I shall always preserve a lively recollection. At our feet flowed the Vir under its old stone bridge. On the middle of the bridge lay the figure of Shrove Tuesday on a litter of leaves, surrounded by scores of maskers, dancing, singing and carrying torches. Some of them in their motley costumes ran along the parapet like fiends. The rest, worn out with their revels, sat on the posts and dozed. Soon the dancing stopped, and some of the troupe, seizing a torch, set fire to the effigy, after which they flung it into the river with redoubled shouts and clamour. The man of straw, soaked with resin, floated away burning down the stream of the Vir, lighting up with its funeral fires the woods on the bank and the battlements of the old castle, in which Louis Arles and France's premier had slept. When the last glimmer of the blazing phantom had vanished, like a falling star at the end of the valley, everyone withdrew, crowd and maskers alike, and we quitted the ramparts with our guests. In the neighbourhood of Tübingen, on Shrove Tuesday, a straw man, called the Shrove Tide Bear, is made up. He is dressed in a pair of old trousers, and a fresh black pudding, or two squirts filled with blood, are inserted in his neck. After a formal condemnation, he is beheaded, laid in a coffin, and on Ash Wednesday is buried in the churchyard. This is called burying the carnival. Amongst some of the Saxons of Transylvania, the carnival is hanged. Thus at Brala, on Ash Wednesday, or Shrove Tuesday, two white and two chestnut horses draw a sledge on which is placed a straw man swathed in a white cloth. Beside him is a cartwheel which is kept turning round. Two lads, disguised as old men, follow the sledge lamenting. The rest of the village lads, mounted on horseback and decked with ribbons, accompany the procession, which is headed by two girls, crowned with evergreen, and drawn in a wagon or sledge. A trial is held under a tree, at which lads, disguised as soldiers, pronounce sentence of death. The two old men try to rescue the straw man and to fly with him, but to no purpose. He is caught by the two girls and handed over to the executioner, who hangs him on a tree. In vain the old men try to climb up the tree and take him down. They always tumble down, and at last, in despair, they throw themselves on the ground and weep and howl for the hanged man. An official then makes a speech in which he declares that the carnival was condemned to death because he had done them harm, by wearing out their shoes and making them tired and sleepy. At the burial of Carnival, in Lesh Rhein, a man dressed as a woman in black clothes is carried on a litter or beer by four men. He is lamented over by men disguised as women in black clothes. Then thrown down before the village Dungheap, drenched with water, buried in the Dungheap and covered with straw. On the evening of Shrove Tuesday, the Estonians make a straw figure called Metzik or Wood Spirit. One year it is dressed with a man's coat and hat, next year with a hood and a petticoat. This figure is stuck on a long pole, carried across the boundary of the village with loud cries of joy, and fastened to the top of a tree in the woods. The ceremony is believed to be a protection against all kinds of misfortune. Sometimes at these Shrove Tide or Lenten ceremonies, the resurrection of the pretended dead person is enacted. Thus, in some parts of Swabia on Shrove Tuesday, Dr. Ironbeard professes to bleed a sick man who thereupon falls as dead to the ground. But the doctor at last restores him to life by blowing air into him through a tube. In the Harz Mountains, when Carnival is over, a man is laid on a baking trough and carried with dirges to a grave. But in the grave, a glass of brandy is buried instead of the man. The speech is delivered, and then the people return to the village green or meeting place, where they smoke the long clay pipes which are distributed at funerals. On the morning of Shrove Tuesday, in the following year, the brandy is dug up, and the festival begins by everyone tasting the spirit, which, as the phrase goes, has come to life again. 3. Carrying Out Death The ceremony of carrying out death presents much the same features as burying the Carnival, except that the carrying out of death is generally followed by a ceremony, or at least accompanied by a profession, of bringing in summer, spring, or life. Thus, in Middle Franken, a province of Bavaria, on the fourth Sunday in Lent, the village urchins used to make a straw effigy of death, which they carried about with burlesque pomp through the streets, and afterwards burnt with loud cries beyond the bounds. The Frankish custom is thus described by a writer of the 16th century. At Mid Lent, the season when the church bids us rejoice, the young people of my native country make a straw image of death, and fastening it to a pole, carry it with shouts to the neighbouring villages. By some they are kindly received, and after being refreshed with milk, peas, and dried pears, the usual food of that season are sent home again. Others, however, treat them with anything but hospitality, for, looking on them as harbingers of misfortune to wit of death, they drive them from their boundaries with weapons and insults. In the villages near Erlangen, when the fourth Sunday in Lent came round, the peasant girls used to dress themselves in all their finery with flowers in their hair. Thus are tired, they repaired to the neighbouring town, carrying puppets which were adorned with leaves and covered with white cloths. These they took from house to house in pears, stopping at every door where they expected to receive something, and singing a few lines in which they announced that it was Mid Lent, and that they were about to throw death into the water. When they had collected some trifling gratuities, they went to the river Regnitz and flung the puppets representing death into the stream. This was done to ensure a fruitful and prosperous year, further it was considered a safeguard against pestilence and sudden death. At Nuremberg, girls of seven to eighteen years of age go through the streets bearing a little open coffin, in which is a doll hidden under a shroud. Others carry a beach branch with an apple fastened to it for a head in an open box.  In some parts of Bavaria, down to 1780, it was believed that a fatal epidemic would ensue if the custom of carrying out death were not observed. In some villages of Turingen, on the fourth Sunday of Lent, the children used to carry a puppet of birch and twigs through the village, and then threw it into a pool, while they sang, We carry the old death out behind the herdsman's old house. We have got summer, and Groden's power is destroyed. At Debschwitz, or Dobbschwitz, near Gera, the ceremony of driving out death is, or was, annually observed on the first of March. The young people make up a figure of straw or the light materials, dress it in old clothes, which they have begged from houses in the village, and carry it out and throw it into the river. On returning to the village, they break the good news to the people and receive eggs and other vittles as a reward. The ceremony is, or was supposed, to purify the village, and to protect the inhabitants from sickness and plague. In other villages of Turingen, in which the population was originally Slavonic, the carrying out of the puppet is accompanied with the singing of a song, which begins, Now we carry death out of the village and spring into the village. At the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th century, the custom was observed in Turingen as follows. The boys and girls made an effigy of straw or the light materials, but the shape of the figure varied from year to year. In one year it would represent an old man, in the next an old woman, in the third a young man, and in the fourth a maiden, and the dress of the figure varied with the character it personated. There used to be a sharp contest as to where the effigy was to be made, for the people thought that the house from which it was carried forth would not be visited with death that year. Having been made, the puppet was fastened to a pole and carried via girl, if it represented an old man, but via boy if it represented an old woman. Thus it was born in procession, the young people holding sticks in their hands and singing that they were driving out death. When they came to water they threw the effigy into it, and ran hastily back, fearing that it might jump on their shoulders and ring their necks. They also took care not to touch it, lest it should dry them up. On their return they beat the cattle with the sticks, believing that this would make the animals fat or fruitful. Afterwards they visited the house or houses from which they had carried the image of death, where they received a doll of half-boiled peas. The custom of carrying out death was practiced also in Saxony. At Leipzig the bastards and public women used to make a straw effigy of death every year at Midlent. This they carried through all the streets with songs, and showed it to the young married women. Finally they threw it into the river Pate. By this ceremony they professed to make the young wives fruitful to purify the city and to protect the inhabitants for that year from plague and other epidemics. Ceremonies of the same sort are observed at Midlent in Silesia. Thus in many places the grown girls, with the help of the young men, dress up a straw figure with women's clothes, and carry it out of the village towards the setting sun. At the boundary they strip it of its clothes, tear it in pieces, and scatter the fragments about the fields. This is called burying death. As they carry the image out they sing that they are about to bury death under an oak, that he may depart from the people. Sometimes the song runs that they are burying death over the hill and dale to return no more. In the Polish neighbourhood of Krojstrelitz the puppet is called Goik. It is carried on horseback and thrown into the nearest water. The people think that the ceremony protects them from sickness of every sort in the coming year. In the districts of Wolał and Góral the image of death used to be thrown over the boundary of the next village, but as the neighbours feared to receive the ill-omined figure they were on the lookout to repel it and hard knocks were often exchanged between the two parties. In some Polish parts of Upper Silesia the effigy, representing an old woman, goes by the name of Marczana, the goddess of death. It is made in the house where the last death occurred and is carried on a pole to the boundary of the village where it is thrown into a pond or burnt. But Polkwitz the custom of carrying out death fell into abeyance, but an outbreak of fatal sickness which followed the intermission of the ceremony induced the people to resume it. In Bohemia the children go out with a straw man, representing death to the end of the village where they burn it, singing. Now carry we death out of the village, the new summer into the village.  At Tabor in Bohemia the figure of death is carried out of the town and flung from a high rock into the water while they sing. Death swims on the water, summer will soon be here. We carried death away for you, we brought the summer and do thou, O holy Marqueta, give us a good year for wheat and for rye. In other parts of Bohemia they carry death to the end of the village, singing. We carry death out of the village and the new year into the village. Dear spring we bid you welcome, green grass we bid you welcome. Behind the village they erect a pyre on which they burn the straw figure, reviling and scoffing at it the while. Then they return, singing. We have carried away death and brought life back. He has taken up his quarters in the village, therefore sing joyous songs. In some German villages of Moravia, as in Jasnitz and Zeitendorf, the young folk assemble on the third Sunday in Lent and fashion a straw man who is generally adorned with a fur cap and a pair of old leathern hose, if such are to be had. The effigy is then hoisted on a pole and carried by the lads and lasses out into the open fields. On the way they sing a song in which it is said that they are carrying death away and bringing dear summer into the house and with summer the may and the flowers. On reaching an appointed place they dance in a circle around the effigy with loud shouts and screams. Then suddenly rush at it and tear it to pieces with their hands. Lastly the pieces are thrown together in a heap, the pole is broken and fire is set to the hole. While it burns the troop dances merrily around it, rejoicing at the victory won by spring, and when the fire has nearly died out they go to the householders to beg for a present of eggs, wherewith to hold a feast, taking care to give us a reason for the request that they have carried death out and away. The preceding evidence shows that the effigy of death is often regarded with fear and treated with marks of hatred and abhorrence. Thus the anxiety of the villagers to transfer the figure from their own to their neighbour's land and the reluctance of the latter to receive the ominous guest are proof enough of the dread which it inspires. Further in Lusatia and Silesia the puppet is sometimes made to look in at the window of a house, and it is believed that someone in the house will die within the year unless his life is redeemed by the payment of money. Again after throwing the effigy away the bearers sometimes run home lest death should follow them and if one of them falls in running it is believed that he will die within the year. At Chrudim in Bohemia a figure of death is made out of a cross with a head and mask stuck at the top and a shirt stretched out on it. On the fifth Sunday in Lent the boys take this effigy to the nearest brook or pool and standing in a line throw it into the water. Then they all plunge in after it but as soon as it is caught no one more may enter the water. The boy who did not enter the water or entered it last will die within the year and he is obliged to carry the death back to the village. The effigy is then burnt. On the other hand it is believed that no one will die within the year in the house out of which the figure of death has been carried and the village out of which death has been driven is sometimes supposed to be protected against sickness and plague. In some villages of Austria and Silesia on the Saturday before dead Sunday an effigy is made of old clothes, hay and straw for the purpose of driving death out of the village. On Sunday the people armed with sticks and straps assemble before the house where the figure is lodged. Four lads then draw the effigy by cords through the village amid exultant shouts while all the others beat it with their sticks and straps. On reaching a field which belongs to a neighbouring village they lay down the figure cudgel it soundly and scatter the fragments over the field. The people believe that the village from which death has been thus carried out will be saved from any infectious disease for the whole year. Four bringing in summer In the preceding ceremonies the return of spring, summer or life as a sequel to the expulsion of death is only implied or at most announced. In the following ceremonies it is plainly enacted. Thus in some parts of Bohemia the effigy of death is drowned by being thrown into the water at sunset. Then the girls go out into the wood and cut down a young tree with a green crown, hang a doll dressed as a woman on it, deck the hole with green, red and white ribbons, and march in procession with their lito, or summer, into the village. Collecting gifts and singing, death swims in the water, spring comes to visit us with eggs that are red with yellow pancakes. We carried death out of the village, we are carrying summer into the village. In many Silesian villages the figure of death after being treated with respect is stripped of its clothes and flung with curses into the water or torn to pieces in a field. Then the young folk repair to a wood, cut down a small fir tree, peel the trunk and deck it with festoons of evergreens, paper roses, painted eggshells, motley bits of cloth and so forth. The tree thus adorned is called summer or may. Boys carry it from house to house, singing appropriate songs and begging for presents. Among their songs is the following.  Sometimes they also bring back from the wood a prettily adorned figure which goes by the name of summer, may or the bride. In the Polish districts it is called Zjawana, the goddess of spring. At Eisenach on the fourth Sunday in Lent, young people used to fasten a straw man representing death to a wheel which they trundled to the top of a hill. Then setting fire to the figure they allowed it and the wheel to roll down the slope. Next they cut a tall fir tree, tricked it out with ribbons and set it up in the plain. The men then climbed the tree to fetch down the ribbons. In Upper Lusatia the figure of death, made of straw and rags, is dressed in a veil furnished by the last bride and a shirt provided by the house in which the last death took place. Thus arrayed the figure is stuck on the end of a long pole and carried at full speed by the tallest and strongest girl while the rest pelt the effigy with sticks and stones. Whoever hits it will be sure to live through the year. In this way death is carried out of the village and thrown into the water or over the boundary of the next village. On their way home each one breaks a green branch and carries it gaily with him till he reaches the village when he throws it away. Sometimes the young people of the next village, upon whose land the figure has been thrown, run after them and hurl it back, not wishing to have death among them. Hence the two parties occasionally come to blows. In these cases death is represented by the puppet which is thrown away, summer or life, by the branches or trees which are brought back. But sometimes a new potency of life seems to be attributed to the image of death itself and by a kind of resurrection it becomes the instrument of the general revival. Thus in some parts of Lusatia women alone are concerned in carrying out death and suffer no male to meddle with it. Atired in mourning which they wear the whole day they make a puppet of straw, clothe it in a white shirt and give it a broom in one hand and a scythe in the other. Singing songs and pursued by urchins throwing stones they carry the puppet to the village boundary where they tear it in pieces. Then they cut down a fine tree, hang the shirt on it and carry it home singing. On the Feast of Ascension the Saxons of Brala, a village of Transylvania not far from Hermannstadt, observe the ceremony of carrying out death in the following manner. After morning service all the school girls repair to the house of one of their number and there dress up the death. This is done by tying a threshed out sheaf of corn into a rough semblance of a head and body while the arms are simulated by a broomstick thrust through it horizontally. The figure is dressed in the holiday attire of a young peasant woman with a red hood, silver brooches and a profusion of ribbons at the arms and breast. The girls bustle at their work for soon the bells will be ringing to Vespers and the death must be ready in time to be placed at the open window that all the people may see it on their way to church. When Vespers are over the longed-for moment has come for the first procession with the death to begin. It is a privilege that belongs to the school girls alone. Two of the older girls seize the figure by the arms and walk in front. All the rest follow two and two. Boys may take no part in the procession but they trip after it gazing with open-mouthed admiration at the beautiful death. So the procession goes through all the streets of the village the girls singing the old hymn that begins To a tune that differs from the ordinary one.  This done the second scene of the little drama begins. While the boys were carrying away the death out of the village the girls remained in the house and one of them is now dressed in all the finery which had been worn by the effigy. Thus a rage is led in procession through all the streets to the singing of the same hymn as before. When the procession is over they all but take themselves to the house of the girl who played the leading part. Here a feast awaits them from which also the boys are excluded. It is a popular belief that the children may safely begin to eat gooseberries and other fruit after the day on which death has thus been carried out. For death, which up to that time looked especially in gooseberries, is now destroyed. Further they may now bathe with impunity out of doors. Very similar is the ceremony which down to recent years was observed in some of the German villages of Moravia. Boys and girls met on the afternoon of the first Sunday after Easter and together fashioned a puppet of straw to represent death. Decked with bright coloured ribbons and cloths and fastened to the top of a long pole the effigy was then born with singing and clamour to the nearest height where it was stripped of its gay attire and thrown or rolled down the slope. One of the girls was next dressed in the gourds taken from the effigy of death and with her at its head the procession moved back to the village. In some villages the practice is to bury the effigy in the place that has the most evil reputation of all the countryside. Others throw it into running water. In the Lusatian ceremony described above the tree which is brought home after the destruction of the figure of death is plain the equivalent to the trees or branches which in the preceding customs were brought back as representatives of summer or life after death had been thrown away or destroyed. But the transference of the shirt worn by the effigy of death to the tree clearly indicates that the tree is a kind of revivification in a new form of the destroyed effigy. This comes out also in the Transylvanian and Moravian customs. The dressing of a girl in the clothes worn by the death and the leading her about the village to the same song which has been sung when the death was being carried about show that she is intended to be a kind of resuscitation of the being whose effigy has just been destroyed. These examples therefore suggest that the death whose demolition is represented in these ceremonies cannot be regarded as the purely destructive agent which we understand by death. If the tree which is brought back as an embodiment of the reviving vegetation of spring is clothed in the shirt worn by the death which has just been destroyed the object certainly cannot be to check and counteract the revival of vegetation. It can only be to foster and promote it. Therefore the being who has just been destroyed the so-called death must be supposed to be endowed with a vivifying and quickening influence which it can communicate to the vegetable and even the animal world. This description of a life-giving virtue to the figure of death is put beyond a doubt by the custom observed in some places of taking pieces of the straw effigy of death and placing them in the fields to make the crops grow or in the manger to make the cattle thrive. Thus in Spachendorf, a village of Austrian Silesia, the figure of death made of straw, brushwood and rags is carried with wild songs to an open place outside the village and they are burnt and while it is burning a general struggle takes place for the pieces which are pulled out of the flames with bare hands. Each one who secures a fragment of the effigy ties it to a branch of the largest tree in his garden or buries it in his field in the belief that this causes the crops to grow better. In the Tropau district of Austrian Silesia the straw figure which the boys make on the fourth Sunday in Lent is dressed by the girls in women's clothes and hung with ribbons, necklace and garlands attached to a long pole it is carried out of the village followed by a troupe of young people of both sexes who alternately frolic, lament and sing songs arrived at its destination afield outside the village the figure is stripped of its clothes and ornaments then the crowd rushes at it and tears it to bits scuffling for the fragments everyone tries to get a wisp of straw of which the effigy was made because such a wisp placed in the manger is believed to make the cattle thrive or the straw is put in the hen's nest it being supposed that this prevents the hens from carrying away their eggs and makes them brood much better the same attribution of a fertilizing power to the figure of death appears in the belief that if the bearers of the figure after throwing it away beat cattle with their sticks this will render the beasts fat or prolific perhaps the six had been previously used to beat the death and so had acquired the fertilizing power ascribed to the effigy we have seen too that at Leipzig a straw effigy of death was shown to young wives to make them fruitful it seems hardly possible to separate from the May trees the trees or branches which are brought into the village after the destruction of death the bearers who bring them in profess to be bringing in summer therefore the trees obviously represent the summer indeed in Silesia they are commonly called the summer or the May and the doll which is sometimes attached to the summer tree is a duplicate representative of the summer just as the May is sometimes represented at the same time by a May tree and a May lady further the summer trees are adorned like May trees with ribbons and so on like May trees when large they are planted in the ground and climbed up and like May trees when small they are carried from door to door by boys or girls singing songs and collecting money and as if to demonstrate the identity of the two sets of customs the bearers of the summer tree sometimes announce that they are bringing in the summer and the May the customs therefore of bringing in the May and bringing in the summer are essentially the same and the summer tree is merely another form of the May tree the only distinction beside that of name being in the time at which they are respectively brought in for while the May tree is usually fetched in on the 1st of May or at Witsentide the summer tree is fetched in on the 4th Sunday in Lent therefore if the May tree is an embodiment of the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation the summer tree must likewise be an embodiment of the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation but we have seen that the summer tree is in some cases a revivification of the effigy of death it follows therefore that in these cases the effigy called death must be an embodiment of the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation this inference is confirmed first by the vivifying and fertilizing influence which the fragments of the effigy of death are believed to exercise both on vegetable and on animal life for this influence as we saw in an earlier part of this work is supposed to be a special attribute of the tree spirit it is confirmed secondly by observing that the effigy of death is sometimes decked with leaves or made of twigs branches hemp or a threshed out sheaf of corn and that sometimes it is hung on a little tree and so carried about by girls collecting money just as is done with the May tree and the May lady and with the summer tree and the doll attached to it in short we are driven to regard the expulsion of death and the bringing in of summer as in some cases at least merely another form of that death and revival of the spirit of vegetation in spring which we saw enacted in the killing and resurrection of the wild man the burial and resurrection of the carnival is probably another way of expressing the same idea the interment of the representative of the carnival under a dung heap is natural if he is supposed to possess a quickening and fertilizing influence like that ascribed to the effigy of death the Estonians indeed who carry the straw figure out of the village in the usual way on Shrove Tuesday do not call it the carnival but the wood spirit Metsik and they clearly indicate the identity of the effigy with the wood spirit by fixing it to the top of a tree in the wood where it remains for a year and is besought almost daily with prayers and offerings to protect the herds for like a true wood spirit the Metsik is a patron of cattle sometimes the Metsik is made of sheaves of corn thus we may fairly conjecture that the names carnival death and summer are comparatively late and inadequate expressions for the beings personified or embodied in the customs with which we have been dealing the very abstractness of the names bespeaks a modern origin for the personification of times and seasons like the carnival and summer or of an abstract notion like death is not primitive but the ceremonies themselves bear the stamp of a dateless antiquity therefore we can hardly help supposing that in their origin the ideas which they embodied were of a more simple and concrete order the notion of a tree perhaps of a particular kind of tree for some savages have no word for tree in general or even of an individual tree is sufficiently concrete to supply a basis from which by a gradual process of generalization the wider idea of a spirit of vegetation might be reached but this general idea of vegetation would readily be confounded with the season in which it manifests itself hence the substitution of spring summer or may for the tree spirit or spirit of vegetation would be easy and natural again the concrete notion of the dying tree or dying vegetation would by a similar process of generalization glide into a notion of death in general so that the practice of carrying out the dying or dead vegetation in spring as a preliminary to its revival would in time widen out into an attempt to banish death in general from the village or district the view that in these spring ceremonies death meant originally the dying or dead vegetation of winter has the high support of w manheart and he confirms it by the analogy of the name death as applied to the spirit of the ripe corn commonly the spirit of the ripe corn is conceived not as dead but as old and hence it goes by the name of the old man or the old woman but in some places the last chief cut at harvest which is generally believed to be the seat of the corn spirit is called the dead one children are warned against entering the cornfields because death sits in the corn and in a game played by Saxon children in Transylvania at the maize harvest death is represented by a child completely covered with maize leaves five battle of summer and winter sometimes in the popular customs of the peasantry the contrast between the dormant powers of vegetation in winter and their awakening vitality in spring takes the form of a dramatic contest between actors who play the parts respectively of winter and summer thus in the towns of sweden on mayday two troops of young men on horseback used to meet as if for mortal combat one of them was led by a representative of winter clad in furs who threw snowballs and ice in order to prolong the cold weather the other troop was commanded by a representative of summer covered with fresh leaves and flowers in the sham fight which followed the party of summer came off victorious and the ceremony ended with a feast again in the region of the middle Rhine a representative of summer clad in ivy combats a representative of winter clad in straw or moss and finally gains a victory over him the vanquished foe is thrown to the ground and stripped of his casing of straw which is torn to pieces and scattered about while the youthful comrades of the two champions sing a song to commemorate the defeat of winter by summer afterwards they carry about a summer garland or branch and collect gifts of eggs and bacon from house to house sometimes the champion who acts the part of summer is dressed in leaves and flowers and wears a chaplet of flowers on his head in the Palatinate this mimic conflict takes place on the fourth Sunday in Lent all over Bavaria the same drama used to be acted on the same day and it was still kept up in some places down to the middle of the 19th century or later while summer appeared clad all in green decked with fluttering ribbons and carrying a branch in blossom or a little tree hung with apples and pears winter was muffled up in a cap and mantle of fur and bore in his hand a snow shovel or a flail accompanied by their respective retinas dressed in corresponding attire they went through all the streets of the village halting before the houses and singing staves of old songs for which they received presents of bread eggs and fruit finally after a short struggle winter was beaten by summer and ducked in the village well or driven out of the village with chouts and laughter into the forest at Gertfritz in Lower Austria two men personating summer and winter used to go from house to house on Shrove Tuesday and were everywhere welcomed by the children with great delight the representative of summer was clad in white and bore a sickle his comrade who played the part of winter had a fur cap on his head his arms and legs were swathed in straw and he carried a flail in every house they sang verses alternately at Dröhmling in Brunswick down to the present day the contest between summer and winter is acted every year at Witzentide by a troop of boys and a troop of girls the boys rushed singing shouting and ringing bells from house to house to drive winter away after them come the girls singing softly and led by a May bride all in bright dresses and decked with flowers and garlands to represent the genial advent of spring formerly the part of winter was played by a straw man which the boys carried with them now it is acted by a real man in disguise among the central Eskimos of North America the contest between representatives of summer and winter which in Europe has long degenerated into a mere dramatic performance is still kept up as a magical ceremony of which the avowed intention is to influence the weather in autumn when storms announce the approach of the dismal Arctic winter the Eskimos divide themselves into two parties called respectively the Tarmigans and the Ducks the Tarmigans comprising all persons born in winter and the Ducks all persons born in summer a long rope of seal skin is then stretched out and each party laying hold of one end of it seeks by tugging with might and main to drag the other party over to its side if the Tarmigans get the worst of it then summer has won the game and fine weather may be expected to prevail through the winter six death and resurrection of Kostrubanka in Russia funeral ceremonies like those of burying the carnival and carrying out death are celebrated under the names not of death or the carnival but of certain mythic figures Kostrubanka Kostroma Kupala Lada and Yarila these Russian ceremonies are observed both in spring and at midsummer thus in little Russia it used to be the custom at Easter tide to celebrate the funeral of a being called Kostrubanka the deity of the spring a circle was formed of singers who moved slowly around a girl who lay on the ground as if dead and as they went they sang dead dead is our Kostrubanka dead dead is our dead dead is our dear one until the girl suddenly sprang up on which the chorus joyfully exclaimed come to life come to life has our Kostrubanka come to life come to life has our dear one on the eve of st. John midsummer eve a figure of Kupala is made of straw and is dressed in women's clothes with a necklace and a floral crown then a tree is felled and after being decked with ribbons is set up on some chosen spot near this tree to which they give the name of marina winter or death the straw figure is placed together with a table on which stand spirits and veins afterwards a bonfire is lit and the young men and maidens jump over it in couples carrying the figure with them on the next day they strip the tree and the figure of their ornaments and throw them both into a stream on st. Peter's day the 29th of june or on the following sunday the funeral of Kostroma or of Lada or of Yarila is celebrated in Russia in the governments of Penza and Simbirsk the funeral used to be represented as follows a bonfire was kindled on the 28th of june and on the next day the maidens chose one of their number to play the part of Kostroma her companions saluted her with deeper basances placed her on a board and carried her to the bank of a stream there they bathed her in the water while the oldest girl made a basket of lime tree bark and beat it like a drum then they returned to the village and ended the day with processions games and dances in the Murom district Kostroma was represented by a straw figure dressed in women's clothes and flowers this was laid in a trough and carried with song to the bank of a lake or river here the crowd divided into two sides on which the one attacked and the other defended the figure at last the assailants gained the day stripped the figure of its dress and ornaments tore it in pieces trod the straw of which it was made underfoot and flung it into the stream while the defenders of the figure hid their faces in their hands and pretended to bewail the death of Kostroma in the district of Kostroma the burial of Yarilla was celebrated on the 29th or 30th of june the people chose an old man and gave him a small coffin containing a priapus like figure representing Yarilla this he carried out of the town followed by women chanting durges and expressing by their gestures grief and despair in the open fields a grave was dug and into it the figure was lowered amid weeping and wailing after which games and dances were begun calling to mind the funeral games celebrated in old times by the pagan savonians in little russia the figure of Yarilla was laid in a coffin and carried through the streets after sunset surrounded by drunken women who kept repeating mournfully he is dead he is dead the men lifted and shook the figures if they were trying to recall the dead man to life then they said to the women women weep not i know what is sweeter than honey but the women continued to lament and chant as they do at funerals of what was he guilty he was so good he will arise no more oh how shall we part from thee what is life without thee arise if only for a brief hour but he rises not he rises not at last the Yarilla was buried in a grave seven death and revival of vegetation these russian customs are plainly of the same nature as those which in austria and germany are known as carrying out death therefore if the interpretation here adopted of the latter is right the russian Kostrubanka Yarilla and the rest must also have been originally embodiments of the spirit of vegetation and their death must have been regarded as a necessary preliminary to their revival the revival as a sequel to the death is enacted in the first of the ceremonies described the death and resurrection of Kostrubanka the reason why in some of these russian ceremonies the death of the spirit of vegetation is celebrated at midsummer may be that the decline of summer is dated from midsummer day after which the days begin to shorten and the sun sets out on his downward journey to the dark some hollows where the frosts of winter lie such a turning point of the year when vegetation might be thought to share the incipient though still almost imperceptible decay of summer might very well be chosen by primitive man as a fit moment for resorting to those magic rites by which he hopes to stay the decline or at least to ensure the revival of plant life but while the death of vegetation appears to have been represented in all and its revival in some of these spring and midsummer ceremonies there are features in some of them which can hardly be explained on this hypothesis alone the solemn funeral the lamentations and the mourning attire which often characterized these rites are indeed appropriate at the death of the beneficent spirit of vegetation but what shall we say of the glee with which the effigy is often carried out of the sticks and stones with which it is assailed and the taunts and curses which are hurled at it what shall we say of the dread of the effigy evinced by the haste with which the bearers scamper home as soon as they have thrown it away and by the belief that someone must soon die in any house into which it is looked this dread might perhaps be explained by a belief that there is a certain infectiousness in the dead spirit of vegetation which renders its approach dangerous but this explanation besides being rather strained does not cover the rejoicings which often attend the carrying out of death we must therefore recognize two distinct and seemingly opposite features in these ceremonies on the one hand sorrow for the death and affection and respect for the dead on the other hand fear and hatred of the dead and rejoicings at his death how the former of these features is to be explained I have attempted to show how the latter came to be so closely associated with the former is a question which I shall try to answer in the sequel eight analogous rites in India in the Kanagra district of India there is a custom observed by young girls in spring which closely resembles some of the european spring ceremonies just described it is called the rally camella or fair of rally the rally being a small painted earthen image of Shiva or Parvati the custom is in vogue all over the Kanagra district and its celebration which is entirely confined to young girls lasts through most of chet march to april up to the sun front of baisak april on a morning in march all the young girls of the village take small baskets of dub grass and flowers to an appointed place where they throw them in a heap around this heap they stand in a circle and sing this goes on every day for 10 days till the heap of grass and flowers has reached a fair height then they cut in the jungle two branches each with three prongs at one end and place them prongs downwards over the heap of flowers so as to make two tripods or pyramids on the single uppermost points of these branches they get an image maker to construct two clay images one to represent Shiva and the other Parvati the girls then divide themselves into two parties one for Shiva and one for Parvati and marry the images in the usual way leaving out no part of the ceremony after the marriage they have a feast the cost of which is defrayed by contributions solicited from their parents then at the next sankrant baisak they all go together to the riverside throw the images into a deep pool and weep over the place as though they were performing funeral obsequies the boys of the neighborhood often tease them by diving after the images bringing them up and waving them about while the girls are crying over them the object of the fair is said to be to secure a good husband but in this Indian ceremony the deities Shiva and Parvati are conceived as spirits of vegetation seems to be proved by the placing of their images on branches over a heap of grass and flowers here as often in European folk customs the divinities of vegetation are represented in duplicate by plants and by puppets the marriages of these Indian deities in spring corresponds to the European ceremonies in which the marriage of the vernal spirits of vegetation is represented by the king and queen of May the May Bride Bridegroom of the May and so forth the throwing of the images into the water and the mourning for them are the equivalents of the European customs of throwing the dead spirit of vegetation under the name of death Yarila Kostroma and the rest into water and lamenting over it again in India as often in Europe the right is performed exclusively by females the notion that the ceremony helps to procure husbands for the girls can be explained by the quickening and fertilizing influence which the spirit of vegetation is believed to exert upon the life of man as well as of plants nine the magic spring the general explanation which we have been led to adopt of these and many similar ceremonies is that they are or were in their origin magical rights intended to ensure the revival of nature in spring the means by which they were supposed to affect this end were imitation and sympathy led astray by his ignorance of the true causes of things primitive man believed that in order to produce the great phenomena of nature on which his life depended he had only to imitate them and that immediately by secret sympathy or mystic influence the little drama which he acted in forest glade or mountain dale on desert plain or windswept shore would be taken up and repeated by mightier actors on a vast stage he fancied that by masquerading in leaves and flowers he helped the bear earth to clothe herself with verger and that by playing the death and burial of winter he drove that gloomy season away and made smooth the path for the footsteps of returning spring if we find it hard to throw ourselves even in fancy into a mental condition in which such things seem possible we can more easily picture to ourselves the anxiety which the savage when he first began to lift his thoughts above the satisfaction of his merely animal wants and to meditate on the causes of things may have felt as to the continued operation of what we now call the laws of nature to us familiar as we are with the conception of the uniformity and regularity with which the great cosmic phenomena succeed each other there seems little ground for apprehension that the causes which produce these effects will cease to operate or at least within the near future but this confidence in the stability of nature is bred only by the experience which comes of wide observation and long tradition and the savage with his narrow sphere of observation and his short lived tradition lacks the very elements of that experience which alone could set his mind at rest in face of the ever-changing and often menacing aspects of nature no wonder therefore that he is thrown into a panic by an eclipse and thinks that the sun or the moon would surely perish if he did not raise a clamour and shoot his puny shafts into the air to defend the luminaries from the monster who threatens to devour them no wonder he's terrified when in the darkness of night a streak of sky is suddenly illumined by the flash of a meteor or the whole expanse of the celestial arch glows with the fitful light of the northern streamers even phenomena which recur at fixed and uniform intervals may be viewed by him with apprehension before he has come to recognize the orderliness of their recurrence the speed or slowness of his recognition of such periodic or cyclic changes in nature will depend largely on the length of the particular cycle the cycle for example of day and night is everywhere except in the polar regions so short and hence so frequent that men probably soon ceased to decompose themselves seriously as to the chances of its failing to recur though the ancient Egyptians as we have seen daily wrought enchantments to bring back to the east in the morning the fiery orb which had sunk at evening in the crimson west but it was far otherwise with the annual cycle of the seasons to any man a year is a considerable period seeing that the number of our years is but few at the best to the primitive savage with his short memory and imperfect means of marking the flight of time a year may well have been so long that he failed to recognize it as a cycle at all and watched the changing aspects of earth and heaven with a perpetual wonder alternately delighted and alarmed elated and cast down according as the vicissitudes of light and heat have plant and animal life ministered to his comfort or threatened his existence in autumn when the withered leaves were whirled about the forest by the nipping blast and he looked up at the bare bowels could he feel sure that they would ever be green again as day by day the sun sank lower and lower in the sky could he be certain that the luminary would ever retrace his heavenly road even the waning moon whose pale sickle rose thinner and thinner every night over the rim of the eastern horizon may have excited in his mind a fear less when it had wholly vanished there should be moons no more these and a thousand such misgivings may have thronged the fancy and troubled the peace of the man who first began to reflect on the mysteries of the world he lived in and to take thought for a more distant future than the morrow it was natural therefore that with such thoughts and fears he should have done all that in him lay to bring back the faded blossom to the bow to swing the low sun of winter up to his old place in the summer sky and to restore its orb fullness to the silver lamp of the waning moon we may smile at his vain endeavors if we please but it was only by making a long series of experiments of which some were almost inevitably doomed to failure that man learnt from experience the futility of some of his attempted methods and the fruitfulness of others after all magical ceremonies are nothing but experiments which have failed and which continue to be repeated merely because for reasons which have already been indicated the operator is unaware of their failure with the advance of knowledge these ceremonies either cease to be performed altogether or are kept up from force of habit long after the intention with which they were instituted has been forgotten thus fallen from their high estate no longer regarded as solemn rites on the punctual performance of which the welfare and even the life of the community depend they sink gradually to the level of simple pageants memories and pastimes till in the final stage of degeneration they are wholly abandoned by older people and from having once been the most serious occupation of the sage become at last the idle sport of children it is in this final stage of decay that most of the old magical rites of our european forefathers linger on at the present day and even from this their last retreat they are fast being swept away by the rising tide of those multitudinous forces moral intellectual and social which are bearing mankind onward to a new and unknown goal we may feel some natural regret of the disappearance of quaint customs and picturesque ceremonies which have preserved to an age often deemed dull and prosaic something of the flavor and freshness of the olden time some breath of the springtime of the world yet our regret will be lessened when we remember that these pretty pageants these now innocent diversions had their origin in ignorance and superstition that if they are a record of human endeavor they are also a monument of fruitless ingenuity of wasted labor and of blighted hopes and that for all their gay trappings their flowers their ribbons and their music they partake far more of tragedy than of farce the interpretation which following in the footsteps of w manheart i have attempted to give of these ceremonies has been not a little confirmed by the discovery made since this book was first written that the natives of central australia regularly practice magical ceremonies for the purpose of awakening the dormant energies of nature at the approach of what may be called the australian spring nowhere apparently are the alternations of the seasons more sudden and the contrasts between them more striking than in the deserts of central australia where at the end of a long period of drought the sandy and stony wilderness over which the silence and desolation of death appear to brood is suddenly after a few days of torrential rain transformed into a landscape smiling with verger and peopled with teeming multitudes of insects and lizards of frogs and birds the marvellous change which passes over the face of nature at such times has been compared even by european observers to the effect of magic no wonder then that the savage should regard it as such in very deed now it is just when there is promise of the approach of a good season that the natives of central australia are wont especially to perform those magical ceremonies of which the avowed intention is to multiply the plants and animals they use as food these ceremonies therefore present a close analogy to the spring customs of our european peasantry not only in the time of their celebration but also in their aim for we can hardly doubt that in instituting rites designed to assist the revival of plant life in spring our primitive forefathers were moved not by any sentimental wish to smell at early violets or pluck the wraith brimrose or watch yellow daffodils dancing in the breeze but by the very practical consideration certainly not formulated in abstract terms that the life of man is inextricably bound up with that of plants and that if they were to perish he could not survive and as the faith of the australian savage in the efficacy of his magic rites is confirmed by observing that their performance is invariably followed sooner or later by that increase of vegetable and animal life which it is their object to produce so we may suppose it was with the european savages in the olden time the sight of the fresh green in break and thicket of vernal flowers blowing on mossy banks of swallows arriving from the south and of the sun mounting daily higher in the sky would be welcomed by them as so many visible signs that their enchantments were indeed taking effect and would inspire them with a cheerful confidence that all was well with a world which they could thus mold to suit their wishes only in autumn days as the summer slowly faded would their confidence again be dashed by doubts and misgivings at symptoms of decay which told how vain were all their efforts to stave off forever the approach of winter and of death and of chapter 28