1 ensures that for the whole year the milk shall be as pure as silver and as the stars in the sky, and the butter as yellow as the sun and the fire and the gold." In the Esthonian island of Oesel, while they throw fuel into the midsummer fire, they call out, "Weeds to the fire, flax to the field," or they fling three billets into the flames, saying, "Flax grow long!" And they take charred sticks from the bonfire home with them and keep them to make the cattle thrive. In some parts of the island the bonfire is formed by piling brushwood and other combustibles round a tree, at the top of which a flag flies. Whoever succeeds in knocking down the flag with a pole before it begins to burn will have good luck. Formerly the festivities lasted till daybreak, and ended in scenes of debauchery which looked doubly hideous by the growing light of a summer morning." Still farther north, among a people of the same Turanian stock, we learn from an eye-witness that Midsummer Night used to witness a sort of witches' sabbath on the top of every hill in Finland. The bonfire was made by setting up four tall birches in a square and piling the intermediate space with fuel. Round the roaring flames the people sang Cheremiss celebrate about Haxthausen regarded as ceremonies of the rest of forest, generally a tall and A and drank and pranced in the usual way. Farther cast, in the valley of the Volga, the midsummer a festival which identical with the midsummer Europe. A sacred tree in the solitary oak, marks the scene of the solemnity. All the males assemble there, but no woman may be present. heathen priest lights seven fires in a row from north-west to south-east; cattle are sacrificed and their blood poured in the fires, each of which is dedicated to a separate deity. Afterwards the holy tree is illumined by lighted candles placed on its branches; the people fall on their knees and with faces bowed to the earth pray that God would be The word which I have translated 2 Holzmayer, "Osiliana," Terhandlungen der gelehrten Estnischen Gesell schaft zu Dorpat, vii. (1872), p. 62 sq. Wiedemann also observes that the sports in which young couples engage in the woods on this evening are not always decorous (Aus dem inneren und äusseren Leben der Ehsten, p. 362). 3 J. G. Kohl, Die deutsch-russischen Ostseeprovinzen, ii. 447 sq. pleased to bless them, their children, their cattle, and their bees, grant them success in trade, in travel, and in the chase, enable them to pay the Czar's taxes, and so forth.1 When we pass from the east to the west of Europe we still find the summer solstice celebrated with rites of the same general character. About half a century ago the custom of lighting bonfires at midsummer prevailed so commonly in France that there was hardly a town or a village, we are told, where they were not kindled.2 In Brittany the custom is kept up to this day. Thus in Lower Brittany every town and every village still lights its tantad or bonfire on St. John's Night. When the flames have died down, the whole assembly kneels round about the bonfire and an old man prays aloud. Then they all rise and march thrice round the fire; at the third turn they stop and every one picks up a pebble and throws it on the burning pile. After that they disperse. At Quimper, and in the district of Léon, chairs used to be placed round the midsummer bonfire, that the souls of the dead might sit on them and warm themselves at the blaze.1 At Brest on this day thousands of people used to assemble on the ramparts towards evening and brandish lighted torches, which they swung in circles or flung by hundreds into the air. The closing of the town gates put an end to the spectacle, and the lights might be seen dispersing in all directions like wandering willo'-the-wisps." In Upper Brittany the materials for the midsummer bonfires, which generally consist of bundles of furze and heath, are furnished by voluntary contributions, and piled on the tops of hills round poles, each of which is surmounted by a nosegay or a crown. This nosegay or crown is generally provided by a man named John or a woman named Jean, 1 J. G. Georgi, Beschreibung aller Nationen des russischen Reichs (St. Petersburg, 1776), p. 36; von Haxthausen, Studien über die innere Zustände, etc., Russlands, i. 446 sqq. 2 De Nore, Coutumes, mythes et traditions des provinces de France, p. 19. 3 A. Le Braz, La Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne (Paris, 1893). p. 279. For an explanation of the custom of throwing a pebble into the fire, see below, p. 296. + J. W. Wolf, Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie, i. p. 217, § 185; A. Breuil, Du Culte de St. Jean Baptiste." Mémoires de la Société des Antiquaires de Picardie, viii. (Amiens, 1845), p. 189 $7. 5 E. Cortet, Essai sur les fêtes religieuses, p. 216. and it is always a John or a Jean who puts a light to the bonfire. While the fire is blazing the people dance and sing round it, and when the flames have subsided they leap over the glowing embers. Charred sticks from the bonfire are thrown into wells to improve the water, and they are also taken home as a protection against thunder.1 To make them thoroughly effective, however, against thunder and lightning you should keep them near your bed, between a bit of a Twelfth Night cake and a sprig of boxwood which has been blessed on Palm Sunday. Flowers from the nosegay or crown which overhung the fire are accounted charms against disease and pain, both bodily and spiritual; hence girls hang them at their breast by a thread of scarlet wool. In many parishes of Brittany the priest used to go in procession with the crucifix and kindle the bonfire with his own hands; and farmers were wont to drive their flocks and herds through the fire in order to preserve them from sickness till midsummer of the following year. Also it was believed that every girl who danced round nine of the bonfires would marry within the year. In Normandy the midsummer fires have now almost disappeared, at least in the district known as the Bocage, but they used to shine on every hill. They were commonly made by piling brushwood, broom, and ferns about a tall tree, which was decorated with a crown of moss and sometimes with flowers. While they burned, people danced and sang round them, and young folk leaped over the flames or the glowing ashes. In the valley of the Orne the custom was to kindle the bonfire just at the moment when the sun was about to dip below the horizon; and the peasants drove their cattle through the fires to protect them against witchcraft, especially against the spells of witches and wizards who attempted to steal the milk and butter. At Jumièges in Normandy, down to about sixty years. ago, the midsummer festival was marked by certain singular features which bore the stamp of a very high antiquity. 1 Sébillot, Coutumes populaires de la Haute-Bretagne, pp. 192-195. In Upper Brittany these bonfires are called rieux or raviers. De Nore, op. cit. p. 219; Cortet, op. cit. p. 216. De Nore, Coutumes, mythes et traditions des provinces de France, pp. 219, 228, 231; Cortet, op. cit. p. 215 sq. J. Lecœur, Esquisses du Bocage Normand, ii. 219-224. Every year, on the twenty-third of June, the Eve of St. John, the Brotherhood of the Green Wolf chose a new chief or master, who had always to be taken from the hamlet of Conihout. On being elected the new head of the brotherhood took the title of the Green Wolf, and assumed a peculiar costume consisting of a long green mantle and a very tall green hat of a conical shape and without a brim. Thus arrayed he stalked solemnly at the head of the brothers, chanting the hymn of St. John, the crucifix and holy banner leading the way, to a place called Chouquet. Here the procession was met by the priest, precentors, and choir, who conducted the brotherhood to the parish church. After hearing mass the company adjourned to the house of the Green Wolf, where a simple repast, such as is required by the church on fast-days, was served up to them. Then they danced before the door till it was time to light the bonfire. Night being come, the fire was kindled to the sound of hand-bells by a young man and a young woman, both decked with flowers. As the flames rose, the Te Deum was sung, and a villager thundered out a parody in the Norman dialect of the hymn ut queant laxis. Meantime the Green Wolf and his brothers, with their hoods down on their shoulders and holding each other by the hand, ran round the fire after the man who had been chosen to be the Green Wolf of the following year. Though only the first and the last man of the chain had a hand free, their business was to surround and seize thrice the future Green Wolf, who in his efforts to escape belaboured the brothers with a long wand which he carried. When at last they succeeded in catching him they carried him to the burning pile and made as if they would throw him on it. This ceremony over, they returned to the house of the Green Wolf, where a supper, still of the most meagre fare, was set before them. Up till midnight a sort of religious solemnity prevailed. No unbecoming word might fall from the lips of any of the company, and a censor, armed with a hand-bell, was appointed to mark and punish instantly any infraction of the rule. But at the stroke of twelve all this was changed. Constraint gave way to licence; pious hymns were replaced by Bacchanalian ditties, and the shrill quavering notes of the village fiddle hardly rose above the roar of voices that went up from the merry brotherhood of the Green Wolf. Next day, the twenty-fourth of June or Midsummer Day, was celebrated by the same personages with the same noisy gaiety. One of the ceremonies consisted in parading, to the sound of musketry, an enormous loaf of consecrated bread, which, rising in tiers, was surmounted by a pyramid of verdure adorned with ribbons. After that the holy handbells, deposited on the step of the altar, were entrusted as insignia of office to the man who was to be the Green Wolf next year.1 In the canton of Breteuil in Picardy the priest used to kindle the midsummer bonfire, and the people marched thrice round it in procession. Some of them took ashes of the fire home with them to protect the houses against lightning.2 In the department of the Ardennes every one used to contribute his faggot to the midsummer bonfire, and the clergy marched at the head of the procession to kindle it. Failure to light the fires would, in the popular belief, have exposed the fields to the greatest danger. At Revin the young folk, besides dancing round the fire to the strains of the village fiddler, threw garlands of flowers across the flames to cach other. In the Vosges it is still customary to kindle bonfires upon the hill-tops on Midsummer Eve; the people believe that the fires help to preserve the fruits of the earth and ensure good crops. In the Jura Mountains the midsummer bonfires went by the name of ba or beau. They were lit on the most conspicuous points of the landscape. Near St. Jean, in the Jura, it appears that at this season young people still repair to the cross-roads and heights, and there wave burning torches so as to present the appearance 1 This description is quoted by Madame Clément (Histoire des fêtes civiles et religieuses, etc., de la Belgique Méridionale (Avesnes, 1846), pp. 394396); F. Liebrecht (Gervasius von Tilbury, p. 209 sq.); and W. Mannhardt (Antike Wald und Feldkulte, p. 323 sqq.) from the Magazin pittoresque, Paris, viii. (1840), p. 287 sqq. A slightly condensed account is given, from the same source, by Cortet (Essai sur les fêtes religieuses, p. 221 §.j.). 2 Bazin, quoted by Breuil, in Mémoires de la Société d'Antiquaires de Picardie, viii. (1845), p. 191 note. 3 A. Meyrac, Traditions, Coutumes, Légendes, et Contes des Ardennes, p. $8 sq. 4 L. F. Sauvé, Folk-lore des Haute. Vosges, p. 186. D. Monnier, Traditions populaire. comparées, p. 207 sqq.; Cortet, Essai sur les fêtes religieuses, p. 217 sq. |