Preparing for the Halloween feast: remembering the witches of Samhain
13-09-2021
Gerthaine Losfett
Druidess of Morrigan
Come, lover, take my hand
Let me lead you through the pits and mounds of hell
The places you as man do not see but are all evident to me
In the death of your senseless despair
Bibber, you will find the spirits waiting
Waiting, and waiting forevermore
For the right moment
To take you from me
- extract from the 13th century poem, The Seer of Trudaigh'n
The return of the herders was a time of merriment, but also a chance for man and woman to meet again; the feast over, the spirits of death appeased for the winter, a woman could hope to bring her man back home and down to earth. Great herder and hunter he might be, and ale drinker too, but the needs of those he left behind even as the menfolk drank and wasted away the months in herding, could not be denied any longer.
Against this background, the story of Samhain, the men rejecting woman and home duties again, going to find a less demanding fairy in the mound, one which killed for the searching, was a warning of retribution for the man who took the liberty of the wandering life for granted.
Sad, that all too often, men given responsibility, did precisely that, and women, unable to end the drinking and hooliganism, succumbed to that life and accepted it. But a culture cannot be real if it does not reconnect with the earth, and it need not be said that Pagan culture never shied away from speaking the truth, even where it came to admonishing kings for their wayward ways.
So, it is that some weeks after the autumnal equinox on September 23, witches and wizards still celebrate Samhain or All Hallows Day. Halloween in the modern parlance.
We celebrate or look for the dead on this day, believing that they have the power to rise from mounds and enter the world of the living. Ghosts of our ancestors they whisper that the death of winter, a millstone of cold and loss to the senses, is to come and steal all our craft away.
And on this day, witches say to wayward wizards, whence is your strength, that you said was for us? All the warmth you gave to bacchus and his party, and left none to the weak, who you promised to faithfully guard! Death is in those mugs of clay, and if you will not listen, then the Christians will take all.
Alas! They did not listen, the menfolk, and now the Muggles have all that we treasured. Little consolation it is, that they celebrate halloween too, perhaps their despair will be less than that of the witches of Samhain.
The return of the herders was a time of merriment, but also a chance for man and woman to meet again; the feast over, the spirits of death appeased for the winter, a woman could hope to bring her man back home and down to earth. Great herder and hunter he might be, and ale drinker too, but the needs of those he left behind even as the menfolk drank and wasted away the months in herding, could not be denied any longer.
Against this background, the story of Samhain, the men rejecting woman and home duties again, going to find a less demanding fairy in the mound, one which killed for the searching, was a warning of retribution for the man who took the liberty of the wandering life for granted.
Sad, that all too often, men given responsibility, did precisely that, and women, unable to end the drinking and hooliganism, succumbed to that life and accepted it. But a culture cannot be real if it does not reconnect with the earth, and it need not be said that Pagan culture never shied away from speaking the truth, even where it came to admonishing kings for their wayward ways.
So, it is that some weeks after the autumnal equinox on September 23, witches and wizards still celebrate Samhain or All Hallows Day. Halloween in the modern parlance.
We celebrate or look for the dead on this day, believing that they have the power to rise from mounds and enter the world of the living. Ghosts of our ancestors they whisper that the death of winter, a millstone of cold and loss to the senses, is to come and steal all our craft away.
And on this day, witches say to wayward wizards, whence is your strength, that you said was for us? All the warmth you gave to bacchus and his party, and left none to the weak, who you promised to faithfully guard! Death is in those mugs of clay, and if you will not listen, then the Christians will take all.
Alas! They did not listen, the menfolk, and now the Muggles have all that we treasured. Little consolation it is, that they celebrate halloween too, perhaps their despair will be less than that of the witches of Samhain.