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Since ancient
times the goddess Diana has enjoyed a devout following,
particularly among women. In pre-Christian times the cult
of Diana flourished in the sacred grove at lake Nemi where
her ancient temple stood for centuries. Ancient Roman poets
and other writers associated Diana with witchcraft.
The worship of Diana continued among
rural peasants during the first centuries following the
establishment of Christianity. This was noted in the
writings of St Martin of Braga who encountered the
veneration of Diana among the country-folk in the
north-western regions of the Iberian peninsula. Here
she was also associated with spirits known as the dianae or fairies. Folklorist Charles Leland referred to
Diana as Queen of the Fairies and as the goddess of witches.
Historian Julio Bajora wrote:
"Several theories have been put forth
to explain the phenomenon of witchcraft. According to one it
had the historical origins in the cult of Diana, and
witchcraft as found in Europe at the time of the major
persecutions was merely a development of the cult.”
This theory was presented in the
writings of Margaret Murray who defined witchcraft as the
cult of Diana. Baroja notes that some theologians of the 16th
century continued to regard Diana as the “patron goddess of
witches” and to look upon the Canon Episcopi as an old
reference to her followers in earlier Church writings.
Written some time before the 10th century, the
Canon Episcopi stated that women were deceived into
believing that the devil was Diana, and that these women
formed into groups that met at night.
Jules Michelet
wrote about the women who venerated Diana and other pagan
deities, stating:
"All innocence as the woman is, still
she has a secret – we have said so before – a secret she
never, never confesses at church. She carries shut within
her breast a fond remembrance of the poor ancient gods, now
fallen to the estate of spirits, and a feeling of compassion
for them.”
Michelet also adds:
“Nothing can be more touching than
this fidelity to the old faith. In spite of persecution, in
the fifth century, the peasants used to carry in procession,
under the form of poor little dolls of linen and flour, the
deities of the great old religions – Jupiter, Minerva,
Venus. Diana was indestructible, even in the remotest
corner of Germany.”
Charles Leland, in his book Etruscan
Romain Remains, presents his belief that certain spirits
that are venerated by Tuscan witches are actually old
Etruscan deities who have diminished to lesser entities over
the centuries. Leland also wrote of the goddess Diana and
of the association of her and the biblical figure known as
Herodias. This figure also appears referenced in Leland’s
Aradia material. Some modern scholars believe that the name
Aradia is actually a modified version of Herodias. In
reality, as shall be demonstrated here, the connection
between Diana and Herodias (as well as Aradia) is an
intentional distortion for political gain and Church agenda.
Carlo Ginzburg notes there is “a rich
series of testimonies” regarding women who claim to
participate in groups that follow a “mysterious female
divinity who had several names depending on the place
(Diana, Perchta, Holda, Abundia, etc).” Ginzburg states that the name Herodias appears in European
Witchcraft due to a misunderstanding or misreading of
earlier references. He points out that Burchard, Bishop of
Worms, added Herodias to the name of Diana (when referring
to an earlier canon about Diana and her night followers). He
also mentions that the Council of Truer in 1310 “set
Herodiana along side Diana”. Ginzburg states that in 1390
Friar Beltramino “inserted” a reference to Herodias that did
not appear in the trial records concerning a woman named “Sibillia”.
All of this demonstrates a falsification regarding the
association of Herodias
and the witch sect.
According
to Ginzbug we find that Vincent of Beauvais added statements
to the original Canon Episcopi, and that Dominican preacher
Johannes Herolt added the name Unholde. Later editions of
his Serones added Fraw Berthe and Fraw Helt, displacing
Unholde. This appears to be evidence of deliberate
alterations, which further confuses the allegations that
attempt to equate Diana with other figures.
As
previously noted, Ginzburg (in his book Ecstasies) points
out that the old hypothesis equating Diana and Herodias
stems from a misunderstanding/misreading of the original
reference to “Hera Diana” which is rendered Herodiana, and
then “normalized” to read Herodias. What should have been
rendered Heradiana, appears as Herodiana, which is curiously
close to the word Herodian. The latter indicates an
association with King Herod of the Bible, and the tale of
Herodias who was instrumental in the beheading of John the
Baptist.
It is
interesting to note that the ancient custom among the Romans
was to create composite names for various deities. Some
examples include Artemis-Hekate (AESCH. Hiket. 667-7) and
Juno-Lucina (Catullus’ Hymn to Diana). In the Hymn to Diana,
Catallus writes: “Diana whose name is Juno-Lucina, who hears
the prayers of birthing women”. As we know, Juno is the
Roman name for the goddess Hera. Here we can easily see a
connection between Diana and Hera, a possible foundation for
the name Hera-Diana. This root may help explain the
confusion between Hera-Diana and Herodias (noting Ginzburg’s
reference to Herodiana rendered as Herodias). In other
words, Hera-Diana may have been an actual indigenous goddess
form that was later conveniently distorted into Herodias
though anti-witch sentiments.
Ginzburg
mentions the existence of a Medieval sect of peasants who
worshipped Hera in the Palatinato. They believed that Hera flies through the night during the
time of Epifania, bringing abundance to her followers. Ginzburg notes that Hera is tied to Diana, which creates a
connection to Herodiana as a nocturnal goddess. He further
notes that the name Herodiana eventually becomes transformed
into Erodiade. This is supported by a 12th century reference
attributed to Ugo da San Vittore, (an Italian abbot) who
writes of women that believe they go out at night riding on
the backs of animals with "Erodiade," whom he conflates with
Diana and Minerva.
Some commentators believe that the name Aradia may have
evolved from the name Erodiade.
Diana, as a goddess
associated with witchcraft, appears by various names and
natures through Europe. Sir Walter Scott, in letter four of
his “Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft,”
wrote:
“The great
Scottish poet Dunbar has made a spirited description of this
Hecate riding at the head of witches and good neighbours
(fairies, namely), sorceresses and elves, indifferently,
upon the ghostly eve of All-Hallow Mass. In Italy we hear of
the hags arraying themselves under the orders of Diana (in
her triple character of Hecate, doubtless) and Herodias, who
were the joint leaders of their choir, But we return to the
more simple fairy belief, as entertained by the Celts before
they were conquered by the Saxons.”
In 906 AD,
Regino of Prum wrote in his instructions to the Bishops of
the Kingdoms of Italy, concerning this cult. Here he states
"...they ride at night on certain beasts with Diana, goddess
of the pagans, and a great multitude of women, that they
cover great distances in the silence of the deepest night,
that they obey the orders of the goddess ...by speaking of
their visions (they) gain new followers for the Society of
Diana...” Carlo Ginzburg also notes Regino’s reference to
the “Society of Diana”.
Various witch
trial transcripts contain confessions that mention
membership in the Society of Diana. In addition there also
exists commentaries by various trial judges and
demonologists who also refer to the Society of Diana. A
sample list of such references can be found in the book
Italian Witchcraft.
We know from
the writings of the Roman poet Horace that the concept of
witches associated with Diana is an ancient one. In his
writings known as the Epodes, Horace depicts a witch at
night calling upon Diana:
"O ye faithful
witnesses to my proceedings, Night and Diana, who presidest
over silence, when the secret rites are celebrated: now, now
be present, now turn your anger and power against the houses
of our enemies…” – Epode 5
Other Roman
writers such Ovid and Lucan present similar concepts related
to a goddess figure in witchcraft. One example depicts a
witch making the following comment:
“Persephone,
who is the third and lowest aspect of our (the witches’)
goddess Hekate…”
Hecate is
among the earliest goddesses to be associated with
witchcraft. She is also intimately linked to the
crossroads, which in ancient times was a favored site for
witchcraft and sorcery. The crossroads was considered to be
a place between the worlds, and one where departed souls
that could not pass into the afterlife gathered at night.
This was chiefly comprised of those who died before their
time or died by violence.
Sarah Johnston
comments on the “restless dead” who frequent the crossroads:
"Broadly, the
aversion rites in both the Selinuntine and the Cyrenean text
align with the funerary practice of feeding the dead and
making them comfortable in other ways, but more
specifically, they are also similar to another ad hoc method
of appeasing and averting the dead: the suppers (deipna)
that could be sent to the crossroads at the time of the new
moon. Several ancient sources tell us that these were left
by the statues or shrines of Hecate (hekataia) that stood at
crossroads, and were dedicated to both the goddess and to
“those who must be averted” (hoi apotropaioi). As Hecate
was a goddess credited with the power either to hold back
the unhappy dead or to drive them on against an unlucky
individual, hoi apotropaioi surely refers here to dangerous
ghosts of the dead. Offering these suppers to both the dead
and their mistress guaranteed not only that the dead would
be fed and appeased but also that Hecate would help to keep
them under control. The timing reflects a belief that souls
were especially likely to be abroad on the night of the new
moon; if one wanted to do something to appease them, this
was the easiest – and also the most necessary – time to make
contact.”
In addition to
the role of Hecate as a tender of souls gone astray, she was
also important in her role as a gatekeeper or threshold
guardian. Johnston notes this important character
associated with Hecate:
“…she could be
the goddess supplicated at the time of the new moon and the
new month, the escort at the palace door and the guide at
the crossroads, the conductor to Hades and the queen of the
souls that never made it there, the key-holder to the higher
realms of the cosmos, and the lunar purifier of souls - - or
all of these things at once. But the concept behind these
duties was at heart the same: from early times, Hekate was
the deity who could aid men at points of transition, who
could help them to cross boundaries, whether they be of a
prosaic, everyday nature, of an extraordinary,
once-in-a-lifetime nature or, later, of a theurgical
nature. The ancients certainly saw unity within the various
expressions of this role – indeed, they used the earlier
expressions to validate or clarify the later ones…”
The concept of
Hecate offering aid to cross barriers and to pass through
transitions becomes quite interesting when we consider the
belief in the ability of witches to fly to the Sabbat, and
in regards to the idea presented as follows from the Canon
Episcopi:
“One mustn’t
be silent about certain women who become followers of Satan,
seduced by the fantastic illusion of the demons, and insist
that they ride at night on certain beasts together with
Diana, goddess of the pagans, and a great multitude of
women; that they cover great distances in the silence of the
deepest night; that they obey the orders of the goddess as
though she were their mistress; that on particular nights
they are called to wait on her.”
Ruth Martin
comments on the idea “that the witch was a member of a
unified and organized sect of similar-minded people, capable
of flying through the air to meet together…” and she states
“Again, this idea of flying, which was obviously necessary
if witches were to travel the distances required to meet up
with hundreds of others of their kind, was by no means new…”
Martin notes that such beliefs date back to ancient Roman
times.
The concept of
witches flying to meet others, as described in trial
transcripts, is an impossible concept unless one takes the
view that such flights were not taking place with other
living witches, but instead with the souls of witches no
longer living. This leads us back to the idea of a goddess
who tends souls that have yet to cross over into the
afterlife.
Martin refers
to the “Procession of the Dead” as a concept probably
surviving from pre-Christian times.
Regarding this belief she writes:
"The belief was
that groups of people, again mainly women, would go out, in
spirit, on nocturnal expeditions joining in a train of
followers behind their leader who was variously known as
Diana, Herodias, Holda, or Perchta. This procession was
often believed to consist of the souls of the prematurely
dead”
The emerging
theme here equates Diana and Hecate, which is also a theme
reflected in the identification of Artemis-Hekate by
Aeschylus, as noted earlier in this article.
Aeschylus writes:
“And may the
altars, whereat the elders gather, blaze in honor of
venerable men. Thus may their state be regulated well, if
they hold in awe mighty Zeus, and most of all, Zeus the
warden of guest-right, who by venerable enactment guideth
destiny aright. And that other guardian be always renewed,
we pray; and that Artemis-Hekate watch over the child-bed of
their women.”
In a similar
fashion the ancient writer Varro equates Hekate (mentioning
her former status as a Titian) with Diana:
“The Trivian
Titaness [Hekate] is Diana, called Trivia [literally ‘she of
the crossroads’] from the fact that her image is set up
quite generally in Greek towns where three roads meet.”
At this point
we have encountered a theme strongly suggesting that witches
were involved in night wanderings, which required leaving
the body either in spirit, trance, or through mastery of the
dream state. Here they met with other witches of the past,
and perhaps even with some other living witches who had made
the same connection, which allowed interaction with one
another. The fantastic accounts of the Sabbats certainly
seem to indicate something “other worldly” in nature and
experience. In this light we can view the Society of Diana
as a fellowship on both planes (the spirit and the
material).
It is
interesting to note that the revels described in the Sabbats
of witchcraft are very much the same as those depicted in
fairy revels. There is a long-standing theme in many
regions of Europe that suggest an intimate relationship
between fairies and witches.
Scholar Katharine Briggs notes:
"In nearly all the countries where
fairy beliefs are to be found some at least of the fairy
people are supposed to gregarious, riding in procession,
hunting, holding court and feasting, and above all dancing.
This is perhaps particularly true of the British Isles,
though France, Italy, Scandinavia and Germany there are the
same tales of dancing, revelry, and processions.”
It is also note worthy to mention the
following by scholar W. Y. Evans-Wentz:
“The evidence from each Celtic
country shows very clearly that magic and witchcraft are
inseparably blended in the Fairy-Faith, and that human
beings, i.e.' charmers,' dynion hysbys, and other
magicians, and sorceresses, are often enabled through the
aid of fairies to perform the same magical acts as
fairies..”
As we explore
the subject of fairies and witches a connection with the
theme of Hecate’s company of souls beings to emerge. The
theme of “trooping fairies” is noted by Briggs in connection
with processions:
“All these fairies, riding or
hunting, touched the ground of middle earth as they rode,
but other trooping fairies traveled by levitation as the
Sluagh did, either by a potent word or by straddling a
bean-stick or piece of ragwort, or by wearing a magical
cap. There are many stories of mortals who join fairy
expeditions, many of which end in a cellar where the fairies
royster and drink.”
Briggs recounts a tale of fairies that
is similar in nature to the accounts of Diana’s followers
and to the “wild hunt” of European lore:
“And there in the bright blue sky they
beheld a multitudinous host of spirits, with hounds on leash
and hawks on hand. The air was filled with music like the
tinkling of silver bells, mingled with the voices of the “sluagh’,
hosts calling to their hounds. The men were so astonished
that they could only remember a few of the names they heard.
These were the spirits of the departed
on a hunting expedition, traveling westwards…”
The “sluagh” appear in Scottish lore
as “the evil dead” but the account mentioned by Briggs does
not portray them in a negative light in this particular
case. Briggs notes (on page 173) that:
“The huntsmen are described as the Sluagh, but these are not evil, death-dealing host of the
Unforgiven Dead, but a brighter troop on their way towards
the Tir na h-oige, the Land of the Ever-Young, where the
bright heroic fairies live.”
However in general lore the Sluagh
are typically associated with malevolence, which is also the
case with witches. Briggs draws a connection between
fairies of northern and southern Europe lore, and comments
on counterparts:
“The larvae of
the Romans were the hungry, malevolent ghosts, who also have
their counterparts in the later folk tradition, the Sluagh
of the Highlands.”
Here we see evidence of an early
widespread belief that fairies are spirits of the dead.
Along with Briggs, Wentz presents a connection between the
fairies of northern and southern Europe:
“There is an even closer relationship
between the Italian and Celtic fairies. For example, among
the Etruscan-Roman people there are now flourishing
animistic beliefs almost identical in all details with the
Fairy-Faith of the Celts. In a very valuable study on the
Neo-Latin Fay, Mr. H. C. Coote writes:--'Who were the
Fays--the fate of later Italy, the fées of
mediaeval France? For it is perfectly clear that the
fatua, fata, and fée are all one and the
same word.' And he proceeds to show that the race of
immortal damsels whom the old natives of Italy called
Fatuae gave origin to all the family of fées as
these appear in Latin countries, and that the Italians
recognized in the Greek nymphs their own Fatuae.”
As we examine fairy lore and witch
lore we find the core symbol of the tree, which is also
associated with the worship of the goddess Diana. It is
interesting to note an ancient belief that the spirits of
the dead inhabited trees.
This may have a connection with the wooden pole placed
upright at the crossroads in ancient times to honor Hecate
(who as we noted gathered souls that had gone astray). This
“tree of Hecate” was known as a hekataia or hekataion, and
“suppers of the dead” were placed there on the new moon to
appease the spirits of the dead. The hekataion served to
manage the departed souls in order to protect the living
from any mischief or ill intent.
The image of
the hekataion with departed souls gathered around it, that
take up the feast offerings, presents a striking similarity
to the legends of fairy and witch revels around a tree. In
connection with Diana we find the famous walnut tree of
Benevento where legendary witch revels took place, which is
also associated with fairies in many Italian folktales.
In ancient myth and legend various
trees are associated with themes of the dead and the
Underworld or Otherworld. Such trees are often believed to
be guardians; some examples are the oak, ash, and thorn.
Beneath the sacred oak tree in the grove of Diana at Nemi
occurred combat to the death over “kingship” of the grove.
In this event we find the figure known as Rex Nemorensis,
king of the woods.
In southern and northern European myth
and legend we find the Golden Bough and the Silver Bough (respectively). To carry the silver or golden branch
allowed passage to and from the Underworld of Otherworld.
Wentz writes of this theme:
"To enter the Otherworld before the
appointed hour marked by death, a passport was often
necessary, and this was usually a silver branch of the
sacred apple-tree bearing blossoms, or fruit, which the
queen of the Land of the Ever-Living and Ever-Young gives to
those mortals whom she wishes for as companions; thought
sometimes, as we shall see, it was a single apple without
its branch. The queen’s gifts serve not only as passports,
but also as food and drink for mortals who go with her.”
“It is evident
at the outset that the Golden Bough was as much the property
of the queen of that underworld called Hades as the Silver
Branch was the gift of the Celtic fairy queen, and like the
Silver Bough it seems to have been the symbolic bond between
that world and this, offered as a tribute to Proserpine by
all initiates, who made the mystic voyage in full human
consciousness. And, as we suspect, there may be even in the
ancient Celtic legends of mortals who make that strange
voyage to the Western Otherworld and return to this world
again, an echo of initiatory rites – perhaps Druidic –
similar to those of Proserpine as shown in the journey of
Aeneas, which, as Virgil records it, is undoubtedly a
poetical rendering of an actual psychic experience of a
great initiate.”
Wentz also
mentions a tree that is associated with the Underworld and
with the goddess Juno:
"In Virgil’s classic poem the Sibyl
commanded the plucking of the sacred bough to be carried by
Aeneas when he entered the underworld; for without such a
bough plucked near the entrance to Avernus from the wondrous
tree sacred to Infernal Juno (i.e. Proserpine) none could
enter Pluto’s realm. And when Charon refused to ferry Aeneas
across the Stygian lake until the Sibyl-woman drew forth the
Golden Bough from her bosom, where she had hidden it, it
becomes clearly enough a passport to Hades, just as the
Silver Branch borne by the fairy woman is a passport to
Tír N-aill; and the Sibyl-woman who guided Aeneas to the
Greek and Roman Otherworld takes the place of the fairy
woman who leads mortals like Bran to the Celtic
Other-world.”
It is interesting to note that Juno is
equated in ancient times with Diana, as reflected in the
Hymn to Diana, written by Catullus:
“Diana whose name is Lucina,
Lightbringer, who every month restores the vanished moon.
Diana whose name is Juno-Lucina, who hears the pained
prayers of birthing women. Diana whose name is Trivia – the
crossroads her sacred place – night goddess, queen of
underworld…”
Juno as a goddess associated with
light and childbirth was an early element of archaic Roman
religion. The origin of her name Juno-Lucina may be
derived from lucus (meaning “grove”), which seems
supported by Pliny who records that the goddess took her
name from the grove that stood on the Esquilline hill in
Rome, which is where her temple was later erected. In this
sacred grove stood a tree where the Vestal virgins hung up
offerings of locks of their hair.
Juno’s consort Jupiter was also
associated with a sacred tree. Historian Cyril Bailey
notes:
“Of the recognition of a spirit
in individual trees we may have a trace in the cult of
Iuppiter Feretrius [Jupiter Feretrius] on the
Capital: he may have been in origin the spirit of a sacred
oak, upon which according to Romulus hung the spolia opima.”
The temple of
Jupiter Feretrius was the oldest temple to be established in
Rome, and bore Tuscan columns. It was associated with a
sacred oak tree, and the temple was built on the former site
of the tree. Sir James Frazer writes:
“…it is
reasonable to conclude that wherever in Latium a Vestal fire
was maintained, it was fed, as at Rome, with wood of the
sacred oak. If this was so at Nemi, it becomes probable
that the hallowed grove there consisted of a natural
oak-wood, and that therefore the tree which the King of the
Wood had to guard at the peril of his life was itself an
oak; indeed, it was from an evergreen oak, according to
Virgil, that Aeneas plucked the Golden Bough. Now the oak
was the sacred tree of Jupiter, the supreme god of the
Latins. Hence it follows that the King of the Wood, whose
life was bound up in a fashion with an oak, personated no
less a deity than Jupiter himself. At least the evidence,
slight as it is, seems to point to this conclusion.”
Bailey notes
that the god Janus is associated with Jupiter as reflected
in the rite of porca praecidanea, in which Janus receives
his sacred cake (stures) and takes his place among the
deities of the farms. Frazer
also associates Janus with Jupiter:
“To this theory
it may naturally be objected that the divine consort of
Jupiter was not Diana but Juno, and that if Diana had a mate
at all he might be expected to bear the name not of Jupiter,
but of Dianus or Janus, the latter of these forms being
merely a corruption of the former. All this is true, but
the objection may be parried by observing that the two pairs
of deities, Jupiter and Juno on the one side, and Dianus and
Diana, or Janus and Jana, on the other side, are merely
duplicates of each other, their names and their functions
being in substance and origin identical.”
It is note
worthy in the region of Naples that we find the word
“janara” to be the term for witch. It is accepted by
Italian scholars that the Neapolitan Janara and the
Sardinian Jana are derived from "Diana," in that
night-flying women were considered followers of the goddess
Diana in medieval legend. In regional lore the janara lurk
in doorways and thresholds, which reflects the theme of
Hecate’s souls at the crossroads. In ancient times the
crossroads was a place between the worlds, and doorways in
general were also considered to be liminal places as well.
Regarding this concept, Johnston writes:
“The common
belief that the doorway is a gathering place for the demons
and ghosts reflects the connection between liminality and
the demonic in a difference way, for the threshold belongs
to neither the interior nor that of the outside world.
Crossroads – the interstices between three or four roads –
also are associated with ghosts and demons in many cultures,
including Greek. In these cases, doorways or crossroads are
perceived as dangerous places precisely because they are
liminal – because they fall between otherwise defined and
controlled areas – and thus come to be viewed as just the
sorts of locations where demons gather and lurk.”
The
guardianship of thresholds also appears in the concept of
the Karyatis figures. These images of the goddess Carya
stand at the entrances to ancient Greek temples and support
the temple roof. The Greek writer Pausanias describes the
worship of a goddess known as Artemis-Caryatis (Karyatis)
who is venerated in a sanctuary of walnut trees. Old
traditions related to the Italian city of Benevento related
tales of the witches’ walnut, which was a legendary site for
gatherings and celebrations.
Ancient tales
tell of a sect of maidens at Karyai who worship Artemis with
celebratory dances. In some accounts the name Karya
appears as a tree nymph, which suggests a connection to
fairy lore. In Italian folklore, fairy maidens are
associated with walnut trees (among other types of trees).
Often fairy women are depicted in tales as the departed
mother of the central figure in the story. Here again we
find the connection of a tree with souls of the dead.
In the tale of
Rhoikos and Arkas we find a sexual relationship with a tree
nymph. Rhoikos saves an oak by propping it up, and its
nymph appears saying she will grant him a wish. He asks to
have sex with her, and she tells the hero that a bee will
come to him and announce the time of the tryst. In Italian
folklore we find the theme of trees giving birth to human
babies. Perhaps we are seeing an old belief that souls of
the dead can be reborn through trees under the right
conditions. If so, this may be one of the reasons for
revels and celebrations around certain trees found in fairy
and witch lore (a means of retrieving ancestral souls
through fertility rites).
Scholar Jennifer Larson notes that the
representation of grouped maidens in processions and round
dances has a long history dating back the “geometric
period.” This is usually categorized as: Early Geometric
period 900-850 bce, Middle Geometric period 850-760 bce, and
Late Geometric period 760-700 bce.
It is difficult to distinguish between the choruses of
maidens within a sect and the band of nymphs that follow a
specific deity such as Apollo, Pan or Hermes.
Larson notes that nymphs are
frequently depicted as having sexual relations with pastoral
gods. An erotic element was the playing of music, and here
we find Pan’s pipes and Apollo’s harp. The “round dance”
which features in the depiction of Pan and his nymphs also
appears in the accounts regarding the gatherings of witches
and fairies. As we shall see, sexual union was not the goal
but the tool through which something much greater was
sought.
Upon examination we find the theme of
female rites of passage reflected in ancient rites, which
upon further examination lead us back to Artemis, and
Proserpina (Persephone). Larson states:
“The Greeks conceptualized a woman’s
life as a series of stages and events related to
reproduction. A young girl was a potential bride and mother,
a wild creature who needed to be socialized and reconciled
to the culturally approved restrictions on female behavior,
a goal that was achieved in part through participation in
rituals. Young girls learned about gender roles through
maturation rituals…This process, far from being of merely
personal significance, was recognized as a fundamental and
crucial requirement for social continuity. Abundant myths
illustrate the drama of the young woman’s resistance to her
forfeiture of freedom and her inevitable, necessary
submission to the requirements of the group”
Larson mentions that stages of female
life were under the purview of major goddesses, for example,
Artemis, Hera, Persephone and Eileithyia. According to
Larson each district and city had its own customs and relied
on its own combinations of deities and rituals to achieve
essentially the same ends. Larson writes: “The nymphs
represented the wild prepubertal girl, the chaste chorus
member, the bride before and after the consummation, and
even the mother, whereas the sexual and familial identities
of the major goddesses were more firmly fixed.”
Here we find the foundation for a
mythos, but one that would differ in certain ways within the
rituals of the mystery tradition. Underlying this structure
it is not difficult to see sexual rites of initiation and
transformation, which become reduced to mere orgies through
the eyes of the Church and its operatives. The image of
witches engaged in orgies at the Sabbat was a theme
popularized by opponents of witchcraft for many centuries.
Larson mentions that:
"Goddesses and nymphs, as divine
exemplars, enacted at both mythic and ritual levels the
choruses, baths, and other symbolic events of the female
life cycle. Girls and women, in turn, believed they were
emulating the deities by their participation in these
events, while the community as a whole celebrated and
affirmed gender expectations through the deities public
cults.”
In the case of the mystery tradition
such rites were private and intended for something more
significant than integration into the sect, its mythos, and
the social expectations of the sect. This shall become more
apparent as we continue.
Sarah Johnston
notes the inner levels of rites of passage for women, and
from this arise some important elements. Johnston writes:
“The passage of a girl out of her
natal household into marriage and the motherhood that sets
the seal upon marriage can be truncated and ruined at either
end of the process with the same result: she becomes an
unhappy soul, frustrated in her attempt to complete her life
as woman, who must be propitiated lest she return to ruin
the lives of other females, Although the deities blamed for
such failures in myth are most often Artemis and Hera,
Dionysus takes on the role as well in some versions of the
Proetides’ myth, in the Minyads’ myth, in the myth of Carya,
and more faintly in the extant version of the myth of
Erigone. Thus, rituals to propitiate these dead women’s
souls could be attracted into the sphere of a Dionysiac
festival…”
Earlier we
encountered the theme of unhappy souls gathered at
crossroads where the “tree of Hecate” stood. Johnston’s
mention of Carya and Erigone is noteworthy. In Greek
mythology, Erigone is the daughter of Icarius, the hero of
the Attic deme Icaria. Her father, who Dionysus taught to
make wine, gave some to some shepherds, who became
intoxicated. Their companions, thinking they had been
poisoned, killed Icarius and buried him under a tree.
Erigone, guided by her faithful dog Maera, found his grave
and in her grief she hanged herself on the tree. In anger
Dionysus sent a plague on the land, and all the maidens of
Athens, in a fit of madness, hanged themselves like Erigone.
The festival called Aeora (the swing) was subsequently
instituted to propitiate Icarius and Erigone. Various small
images were suspended on trees and swung backwards and
forwards, while offerings of fruit were made. Some
commentators believe that the story was probably intended to
explain the origin of these figures, by which Dionysus, as
god of trees, was propitiated. In Greek myth, forest nymphs
raised Dionysus, and he was called Dendrite, which in Greek
connects him with trees.
The Dendrite aspect of Dionysus is
deeply rooted in the ecstatic elements of his cult. The
release of primal or animal feelings is experienced in its
fullness without limitations. Sexual rites immerse one in
the deep memory of death and deep-seated fear, wherein life
is reaffirmed and liberation can be achieved. Here again
what can be misunderstood as a mere orgy for personal
gratification is actually a rite of reconnecting with the
three great mysteries: birth, life, and death.
As in the myth
of Erigone, the maiden Carya is intimately connected to a
tree. In the best-known version of the myth, Carya is a
Laconian maiden who is seduced by Dionysus and later
transformed by him into a nut tree. In the common myth this
occurs when her sisters try and interfere when Dionysus
attempts further advances towards Carya. But this is too
exoteric to have meaning in the greater context of the
mythos.
Johnston notes
that Caryatis was Artemis’s cult title in the village
of Caryai, and here the priestesses of Artemis were called
the caryatidai. Each year women performed a dance called
the caryatis at a festival in honor of Artemis called the
Caryateia. In the tale of the maiden Carya, Johnston sees
the state of Carya’s transformation as a liminal condition,
a placement between the worlds. She also notes a legend
about a group of Laconian maidens who committed suicide by
hanging themselves from a tree. According to this legend
the temple of Artemis Caryatis was later built upon the
site. Johnston writes:
"The description of both the mythic
and the real girls as virginal indicates that they were at
the age during which transitional rites took place, as does,
again, the method by which they committed suicide. That the
mythic girls became madly suicidal at this age, and
expressed that madness by hanging themselves on the tree
that once was a virgin like themselves, suggests a causal
connection between their fate and that of Carya.”
In another tale we find a group of
children who were stoned to death for tying a noose around
the statue of Artemis near the town of Condylea in Arcadia.
According to the tale, the death of the children angered
Artemis who punished the offenders by causing all their
unborn children to die in their mother’s wombs. Here we
begin to see a reflection of ill elements later distorted
and associated with witches and the death of infants. It is
important to note the absence of a belief in ancient Greece
of magic being used for reproductive failure, as well as
such acts being extremely rare in Roman times.
This strongly suggests that beliefs in the Christian era
regarding witches and babies were something contrived rather
than rooted in pre-existing traditions. However, the
argument can be made that such beliefs were rooted in
supernatural beings like the gello and the strix.
In this light the conflation of supernatural beings with
witches may have fed the hysteria of the Middle Ages and
Renaissance periods.
It is important now to separate the
Greek goddess Artemis from the Roman goddess Diana,
particularly regarding virginity. Classic myths depict
Artemis as a chaste goddess, whereas Diana has several
lovers including a mortal named Endymion. Another
distinction is made in the fact that several ancient writers
associate Diana with witches but none with Artemis.
In Italy the worship of Diana appears
to have been indigenous, and not an import from Greece.
Among the Romans, Diana was a goddess of the moon, and later
Greek myths relating to Artemis were added.
However, this influence may have come from the Etruscans who
worshipped a goddess known as Atimite or Artimite. Etruscan
artifacts and construction methods discovered in the area of
Diana’s temple at Nemi strongly suggests an indigenous cult
in ancient Italy, which pre-existed the Romans.
When we consider the “Society of
Diana” and its night gatherings in ancient times, it must
have been important to appease night spirits and to create a
society that was not in discord. Johnston mentions the
“horrors of the night” and writes about various
“night-wandering female ghosts” who attack virgins, infants,
and pregnant women. She also mentions spirits known as the
nuctalopes, who are called the night-watchers.
Johnston reveals
several types of amulets to protect against such spirits,
but it seems more practical that a gathering of witches at
night can practice unmolested if they are not virgins
(hence, in part, the use of sexual rites). But what
about pregnancy, and how can night spirits be prevented from
injuring the womb without the use of talismans, which in and
of themselves might be considered offensive and therefore
cause disharmony between witches and spirits?
The answer to this dilemma might well
reside in the idea of a divine mating, a hieros gamos. Naturally
this required a male partner, and in particular one of
divine nature. Surely the fetus of a god is well
protected, and what night-spirit would dare risk the wrath
of a deity! It is here in the image of Dionysus that
we arrive in the presence of the horned-god, in whatever
local form he may take shape, including the distorted image
of the Christian devil.
Johnston states that one of the
earliest roles of Hecate in Greek literature and art is that
of a wedding attendant. She notes that Hecate, in this
role, was similar to Artemis who ensured: “…the bride’s
transition from maiden to wife. As is well known, this was
but one aspect of Artemis’s general guardianship of the
females passage from girl to mother, which also manifested
itself in her presence when women gave birth, her protection
of children after birth, and, even earlier in the process,
her sponsorship of a variety of rituals in which girls
symbolically made the transition from virgin to marriageable
woman.” It
is under the sanction of the goddess that the maidens may
mate with the horned-god.
In the iconography and mythical
references a triformis imagery of Dionysus emerges. He is
depicted with the horns of a goat and also a bull, and when
he is not, Dionysus sports a crown of grape leaves
(sometimes ivy), which denotes his agricultural nature
(wherein he can be viewed as a harvest lord figure). The
figure of the horned devil of Christian belief features
prominently in woodcuts and drawings of the persecution era,
and his horns are depicted in some cases as those of a goat,
and at other times as the horns of a bull. Since the devil
is never given a physical description in the Bible, it seems
clear that his imagery is drawn from pagan sources.
The stories told of the witches’
Sabbats during the era of persecution provide accounts of
orgiastic meetings, feasts, dancing, and impossible physical
feats that include the ability to fly. Prior to the notion
that witches flew on broomsticks we find that riding on a
goat provided transportation to the Sabbat, which is one of
the cult animals associated with Dionysus.
It is interesting to note that
Dionysus is depicted in ancient myth as a god connected to
death and the souls of the dead. The followers of Dionysus,
who travel with him, share traits in common with the
assembly of witches and the revels of fairies. Here we see
reflections of the night-wandering women who accompany
Diana. Historian Walter Otto writes:
“However, the dark and eerie character
of the animal also leaves its mark in the cult and myth of
Dionysus, and it is this duality in its nature which first
makes it into a genuine symbol of the two-fold god.
Dionysus ‘of the black goatskin’ has an epithet here, which
is used again in the case of the Enrinyes. Plutarch
mentions it together with ‘the nocturnal one.’ To his cult,
which in Attica was associated with the Apaturia, belonged a
legend which obviously referred to the spirit realm beneath
the earth. He was also worshipped in Hermione. A figure who
was undoubtedly connected with Dionysus Melanaigis was
Dionysus Morychis (‘the dark one’) in Syracuse. The spirit
of horror which, according to the myth-making mind, lives in
the goatskin is well known to us from the figure of Zeus,
who shakes the aegis. The same concept recurs in the italic
cult of Mars. It is precisely out of Italy, moreover, that
we get our most explicit evidence for the viewpoint that the
he-goat and the she-goat belong to the subterranean world,
and to death’s realm. The goddess of women, Juno, dresses
herself in a goatskin.”
The procession of the dead, and its
connection to witchcraft through Hecate and her souls at the
crossroads, is significant in relationship to themes of
revelry. In the image below, Dionysus is shown as a column
known as a herm figure. Herm figures were pillars with the
upper portion shaped as the bust of a god or goddess. In
ancient times they were placed at the crossroads and
thresholds. In connection to the herm figure of Dionysus,
Harrison notes that Dionysus was called by the name
Perikionios, which means, “He-about-the-pillar.” The
images surrounding Dionysus depict the followers of Dionysus
worshiping him as the god of life. Harrison notes that they
“bend in ritual ecstasy to touch the earth, mother of life.”
The cult of Dionysus in the region of
Benevento is evident in the Villa of the Mysteries at
Pompeii, which is about 50 miles south of Benevento. Here
we find painted depictions of an initiation ceremony in
which a woman enters into the cult of Dionysus.
Gerald Gardner mentions the mural
paintings at Pompeii, in connection with witchcraft, in his
book Witchcraft Today:
“…and when I visited the Villa of the
Mysteries at Pompeii I realized the great resemblance to the
cult…I showed a picture of these frescoes to an English
witch, who looked at it very attentively before saying: ‘So
they knew the secret in those days.’
Dionysus was known by many names
including Bacchus. It is likely that he blended with a
local deity and took on a new name, if not simply the name
of the indigenous god figure.
We know from various sources that the
goddess Diana was worshipped in Pompeii, which is evidenced
also in the excavated home of Octavius Quartio. Within the
house was an arcaded courtyard with its hanging garden and
household shrine dedicated to Diana. In a resort called
Baiae, near Naples, women frequently attended processions in
honor of Diana Nemorensis at Aricia.
In Diana’s grove we find the figure
Rex Nemorensis, the King of the Woods. Diana has been
referred to as the “queen of all witches” and the “queen of
the fairies.” The theme of a king and queen in witchcraft
also appears in connection with Benevento, as evidenced in
the following excerpt from a 16th century witch
trial:
"In 1588 a
fisherman’s wife from Palermo confessed to the Inquisition
that she and her company, with their ‘ensign’ at their head,
rode on billy-goats through the air to a country called
Benevento that belongs to the Pope and lies in the kingdom
of Naples. There was a great plain there on which there
stood a large tribune with two chairs. On one of them sat a
red young man and on the other a beautiful woman; they
called her the Queen, and the man was the King. The first
time she went there, - when she was eight years old, - the
ensign and other women [sic] in her company said that she
must kneel and worship this king and queen and do everything
they told her, because they could help her and give her
wealth, beauty and young men to make love with. And they
told her that she must not worship God or Our Lady. The
ensign made her swear on a book with big letters that she
would worship the other two. So she took an oath to worship
them, the King as God and the Queen as Our Lady, and
promised them her body and soul…And after she had worshipped
them like this, they set out tables and ate and drank, and
after that the men lay with the women and with her and made
love to them many times in a short time.
All this seemed to her to be taking
place in a dream, for when she awoke she always found
herself in bed, naked as when she had to rest. But
sometimes they called her out before she had gone to bed so
that her husband and children should not find out, and
without going to sleep (as far as she can judge) she started
out and arrived fully clothed.
She went on to say that she did not
know at that time that it was devilment, until her confessor
opened her eyes to her errors and told her that it was the
Devil and that she must not do it any more. But in spite of
this she went on doing it until two months ago. And she went
out joyfully because of the pleasure she took from it…and
because they [the King and the Queen] gave her remedies for
curing the sick so that she could earn a little, for she has
always been poor.”
It is not a new idea that Bacchus was
the god among witches. Scholar Stuart Clark points out this
belief as late as the 18th century. As
noted by Clark, Pierre Crespet (Prior of the French
Celestines) pointed to the origins of the “the witches’
dance” in the Bacchanalia, and felt they were the same
ritual. Jude Serclier (canon of the Order of St Ruff)
believed the origins of the witches’ sabbats to be traceable
to ancient Roman celebrations. Francois de Rosset, in his
18th century work titled “Tragical Histories,”
equated the rites of the bacchanal with those of the
witches’ sabbat. In this same period, Francois Hedelin (abbe
d’Aubignac) wrote that the rites of the bacchanal were “the
same thing” as the night conventicles of contemporary
witches. Both individuals wrote that Bacchus presided over
the Bacchanal and the Sabbats, which were the same events.
Both Hedelin and Rosset held that Bacchus was actually a
devil and that the ancient practitioners of the Bacchanal
were really witches.
Although the Church tried to eradicate
Pagan beliefs and practices related to Bacchus, such
elements merely morphed into curious celebrations associated
with saints and Christian festivals and carnivals. In the
region of Naples, two saints are featured in a celebration
that includes phallic symbolism. These saints are named St.
Cosmo and St. Damiano. Wax phalli were offered to these
saints and were placed upon their altars. Sir William
Hamilton and Mr. Payne Knight investigated the origins of
this ceremony, which they stated “left no doubt that it was
a remnant of the worship of Priapus, which appears to have
lingered on this spot without interruption from pagan
times.”
The merging of Bacchus with Priapus
among the peasantry is reported by various writers and
commentators. One example appears in the writings of John
Davenport and Alan Hull Walton:
"In the Kingdom of Naples, in the town
of Trani, the capital of the province of that name, there
was carried in procession, during the carnival, an old
wooden statue representing an entire Priapus, in the ancient
proportions; that is to say that the distinguishing
characterisitics of that god was very disproportionate to
the rest of the idol’s body, reaching, as it did, to the
height of the chin. The people called this figure il
Santo Membro, the holy member. This ancient ceremony,
evidently a remains of the feasts of Bacchus, called by the
Greeks Dionysiacs, and by the Romans Liberalia, existed as
late as the commencement of the eighteenth century, when it
was abolished by Joseph Davanzati, archbishop of that town.”
Historian Jeffrey B. Russell notes
that the Devil is often portrayed or described as having an
oversized phallus. His
other attributes, including horns and cloven hooves, are
certainly drawn from earlier Pagan symbolism. The
Italian Witch Hunter, Francesco Guazzo, notes several interesting
elements in his work titled Compendium Maleficarum. He
recounts a trial transcript in which a woman tells of an
Italian man who brought her into a field in the middle of
the night on the summer solstice. He took a beech twig and
traced a ritual circle upon the ground. Afterwards he read
from a black book, but the girl could not make out what he
was saying. Shortly thereafter two women appeared with a
large black goat.
A man next appeared wearing the
vestments of a priest and joined the others gathered at the
ritual circle. Upon the head of the goat was a lighted
candle, and everyone lit their own candles from this flame.
They worshipped the goat, and gave it offerings in a bowl.
At the next visit the Italian man cut a lock from the girl’s
hair and placed it on the goat, which marked a wedding
rite. The girl claimed she was led off into the woods where
she was then mounted by the goat to consummate the marriage. Unlike
many accounts of witchcraft assemblies, this one contains
little that is too fantastic. It is likely based on an
actual event, with the goat being a man in animal disguise
(seen at night by candlelight). At its core was
probably an ancient fertility rite designed to ensure the
proliferation of herds and crops as well as human
reproduction.
Guazzo notes other gatherings that
take place in Benevento, which also include the black goat
figure. Related trial transcripts contain the claim by the
accused that such assemblies are real and not imagined or
envisioned. The accused insisted that transport to
Benevento was provided on the back of a goat, and that many
witches attended the assemblies. It
is interesting to note Margaret Murray’s comment, which ties
ritual witchcraft in general with the goddess Diana, and by
extension with the Society of Diana:
“Ritual Witchcraft – or, as I propose
to call it, the Dianic cult – embraces the religious beliefs
and ritual of the people known in late medieval times as
‘Witches”. The evidence proves that underlying the
Christian religion was a cult practiced by many classes of
the community, chiefly, however, by the more ignorant or
those in the less thickly inhabited parts of the country.”
When we view the accounts of the
witches’ Sabbats it seems clear that we are looking at
ritual practices that take place sometimes in the material
world and at other times in trance states, which constitute
something akin to an astral experience. Because witchcraft
was a structured system, it seems likely that the more
seasoned witches directed such experiences. Today we call
these experiences “guided meditation journeys.” However in
the Middle Ages and Renaissance period drugs were certainly
used to facilitate the journey. This was most likely due to
the fact that opportunities for training were limited due to
fear of being discovered practicing Witchcraft. Therefore
drugs hurried the process of liberating the mind and spirit
from the body, and skilled elders verbally directed the
experience of the Sabbats while the neophyte was under the
influence. On other occasions a newcomer, under the
influence of a drug, observed and took part in fertility
rituals where the key performers wore masks and costumes.
No doubt the neophytes confused various events, and over the
course of time it became unclear what had actually happened
in the flesh and what had taken place solely in the spirit.
Not all witch assemblies convey a
mystical nature. Ginzburg notes one very worldly account:
“A woman tried
by the Milanese Inquisition in 1390 for having asserted that
she belonged to the ‘society’ of Diana, declared that the
goddess accompanied by her followers wandered at night among
the houses, chiefly those of the well-to-do, eating and
drinking: and when the company came to dwellings that were
well swept and orderly, Diana bestowed her blessings.”
It is difficult
to gain a full portray of the Society of Diana because it
was a secret organization. Professor Franco Mormando
comments: “The ultimate prototype of such secret nocturnal
assemblies is the “Society of Diana.” Here
we are reminded of the passage by folklorist Lady de Vere:
"...the community of Italian witches
is regulated by laws, traditions, and customs of the most
secret kind, possessing special recipes for sorcery"
Folklorist Charles Leland comments:
“The witches of
Italy form a class who are the repositories of all the
folklore; what is not at all generally known, they also keep
as strict secrets an immense number of legends of their own,
which have nothing in common with the nursery or popular
tales, such as are commonly collected and published …the
more occult and singular of their secrets are naturally not
of a nature to be published”.
Perhaps it is just as well that the
Society of Diana must reside as a legendary history (as
opposed to one with sufficient evidence to be subjected to
the dispassionate analysis of scholars and the academic
community). A healthy mind is one that not only embraces the
realities of daily life but also dreams in the reality of
sleep. Clinical studies have shown that dream deprivation
results in detrimental changes in personality, perceptual
processes, and intellectual functioning. Dare we reject the
reality of the dream, and in doing so lose our ability to
see clearly in the light of day?
Joseph Campbell once pointed out that
the conscious mind is only fifty-percent of our being, and
the other fifty-percent resides in the subconscious mind.
Can this be the reason why the witches’ assemblies took
place in both words in different ways? If so, the Society
of Diana leaves us with the spiritual lineage of those who
once walked between the worlds. It is the well-worn path of
those who came before us. It is our spiritual legacy.
As to history, let us end with the
words of historian Albert Grenier regarding the rural
people, which apply equally to the authentic witches of
antiquity:
“History, being wholly aristocratic
and political, hardly noticed them. For they lived outside
history, so to speak, content to be alive under a sunny sky,
on a land which they loved. They needed no more than a few
very simple ideas inherited from their forefathers and a few
homely rites to give them confidence and joy. A loyal,
courageous race, feeling no dread in the presence of the
unknown and, at bottom, not caring much about it, when the
thoughts and fancies of the Mediterranean came pouring in
they kept alive the original conceptions and religious acts
of the first masters of the Italian soil.”
Carlo Ginzburg. Ecstasies, Deciphering the Witches’
Sabbath. New York: Pantheon Books, 1991, page 6
Carlo Ginzburg. Ecstasies, Deciphering the Witches’
Sabbath. New York: Pantheon Books, 1991, page 104
Carlo Ginzburg. Ecstasies, Deciphering the Witches’
Sabbath. New York: Pantheon Books, 1991, page 104
Storia Notturna. Una decifrazione del sabba, Torino
1989. page 81
Bonomo, Giuseppe. Caccia alle Streghe. Palermo:
Palumbo, 1959
Carlo Ginzburg. Ecstasies, Deciphering the Witches’
Sabbath. New York: Pantheon Books, 1991, page 130
Raven Grimassi. Italian Witchcraft. St. Paul:
Llewellyn Publications, 2000, page 15-16
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1999, page 60-61
Sarah Iles Johnston. Hekate Soteira. Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1990, page 73-74
Ruth Martin. Witchcraft and the Inquisition in
Venice 1550-1650. New York: Basil Blackwell Ltd.,
1989, page 41-42
Ruth Martin. Witchcraft and the Inquisition in
Venice 1550-1650. New York: Basil Blackwell Ltd.,
1989, page 42
Ruth Martin. Witchcraft and the Inquisition in
Venice 1550-1650. New York: Basil Blackwell Ltd.,
1989, page 42. Like most scholars Martin dismisses
any connection between this theme and witchcraft,
seeing it instead as simple unrelated folk beliefs
that have no connection. Such a narrow view is
likely due to the fact that scholars dismiss
witchcraft as bearing surviving elements of
paganism, and instead views it as a product of
superstition and fear in an unenlightened period.
Such an approach dismisses the roots of folk belief
that extend from earlier periods, and negates the
cultural connections to themes woven into folk
beliefs about witchcraft that survived and were
later distorted by the Church.
As
quoted in The Rotting Goddess, by Jacob Rabinowitz,
Autonomedia, 1998, page 19
Katharine Briggs. The Vanishing People. New York:
Patheon Books, 1978, page 39
W.Y. Evans-Wentz The Fairy Faith in Celtis
Countries. New York: Citadel Publishing, 1994, page
253
Katharine Briggs. The Vanishing People. New York:
Patheon Books, 1978, page 47
Katharine Briggs. The Vanishing People. New York:
Patheon Books, 1978, page 174
Katharine Briggs. The Vanishing People. New York:
Patheon Books, 1978, page 54
W.Y. Evans-Wentz The Fairy Faith in Celtis
Countries. New York: Citadel Publishing, 1994, page
231
Lewis Spence. The Fairy Tradition. Kessinger
Publishing, page 322
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 60-61,
207-210
W.Y. Evans-Wentz The Fairy Faith in Celtis
Countries. New York: Citadel Publishing, 1994, page
336
W.Y. Evans-Wentz The Fairy Faith in Celtis
Countries. New York: Citadel Publishing, 1994, page
337
Jacob Rabinowitz. The Rotting Godess. New York:
Autonomedia, 1998, page 51
Lesley & Roy Adkins.
Dictionary of Roman
Religion. New York: facts on File, Inc., 1996, page
117
Cyril Bailey.
Phases in the
religion of ancient rome, by Cyril bailey –
University of California Press, Berkeley, 1932, page
44
Jame Frazer. The Golden Bough. New York: The
Macmillan Company, 1928, page 163
Cyril Bailey.
Phases in the religion of ancient rome. University
of California Press, Berkeley, 1932, page 48.
Jame Frazer. The Golden Bough. New York: The
Macmillan Company, 1928, page 164
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 171
Pausanias. Description of Greece: 3.10.7
Jennifer Larson. Greek Nymphs. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2001, page 259
Jennifer Larson. Greek Nymphs. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2001, page 100
Jennifer Larson. Greek Nymphs. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2001, page 100
Jennifer Larson. Greek Nymphs. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2001, page 101
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 69-70
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 227-228
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 188-189
The Gello were the spirits of virgins who died and
were therefore denied the opportunity to have
children. As a result they sought vengeance against
the living. The Strix was a owl-woman spirit much
like a vampire that fed on babies.
Alexander S. Murray. Who's Who in Mythology.
Crescent Books. New York: 1988, page 116)
Hans Biedermann. Dictionary of Symbolism. New York:
Facts on File, Inc., 1992, page 96
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 167
The Hieros Gamos, or "holy wedding," is a means of
coupling between a human and a deity. In ancient
times this rite was generally conducted in the
spring, and participants believed they could gain
profound religious experience through sexual
intercourse. Participants assumed the role of bride
and groom, and through sexual union they obtained
symbolic and literal fertility for themselves, the
land, and their people.
Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead. Berkeley:
University of Caifornia Press, 1999, page 211
Walter Otto. Dionysus: Myth & Cult. Bloomington:
University of Indiana Press, 1965, page 169
Jane Ellen Harrison. Prolegomena. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1991, page 429
Gerald B. Gardner. Witchcraft Today. Secaucus:
Citadel Press, 1973, page 82 & 88
Ovid. The Art of Love:
Book 1
Early Modern
European Witchcraft, edited by Ankarloo & Henningsen,
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993, page 196
Thinking
with Demons, Stuart Clark, Oxford University Press,
1997 – page 23
Primitive Symbolism
as Illustrated in Phallic Worship or the
Reproductive Principle, by Hodder M. Westropp and
J.G.R. Forlong, page 48
Aphrodisiacs and
Love Stimulants, by John Davenport and Alan Hull
Walton, page 98
The Prince of Darkness: Radical Evil and the Power
of Good in History, page 114
Compendium Maleficarum, book one, chapter twelve,
page 47-48.
Compendium Maleficarum, book one, chapter twelve,
page 41-42
The Witchcult in Western Europe, Introduction, page
11
The Preacher's
Demons: Bernardino of Siena and the Social
Underworld of Early Renaissance Italy. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1999, page 276
La Rivista of Rome, June, 1984
The Roman Spirit in Religion, Thought, and Art, page
371-372
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