Sorbs from Germany, Poland and Czechia used to bury the person bitten by a snake into the ground up to their neck. The same was done by Serbs in Bosnia. Serbs from Croatia and Montenegro only buried the bitten limb into the ground. Serbs from Serbia covered the wound with earth...
Source: "Simbolika zivotinja u Slovenskoj narodnoj tradiciji" (Symbolism of animals in Slavic folk tradition) by Aleksandar Gura.
Greeting of "Jāņi children" by the house owners during Jāņi (Yanee) day, Latvian summer solstice festival. Pic: Leonid Vladimirovic.
There is something strange about this Latvian holiday. It has part of what we find in Slavic mid summer rituals and part of what we find in Slavic beginning of summer rituals all mixed in one...
For instance, Gathering the fern flower ritual is in Slavic countries performed during mid summer Ivan dan (Jāņi dan) celebrations, just like in Latvia.
Bonfire lighting which is done in Latvia on the eve of the Jāņi day, is another ritual which is in Slavic countries done on Ivan dan. Pic: Jāņi bonfire
While in Slavic (Balkan) countries this is done at the beginning of the summer, in late April, early May...I talked about this in my post "Flower girls"...
And particularly interesting is the belief in Latvia that "medicinal herbs picked on Jāņi day have special powers and are particularly potent". In Slavic (Balkan) countries the belief is that the "medicinal herbs picked at the beginning of the summer have special powers are are particularly potent". Which is when medicinal herbs are gathered...I talked about this in my post "Herb Friday"...
Finally, Latvian belief that"girls should, on Jāņi day, wash their faces with the morning dew, so their face will always be white and beautiful" is in Slavic (Balkan) cultures and in Celtic (Gaelic) cultures is done at the beginning of summer. I talked about this in my post "Morning dew"...
I wonder if this is an example of customs and rituals, which as they moved up north, to the colder parts of Europe, were moved from the beginning of summer to the middle of summer, to fit with the local climate (medicinal herbs flowering later and dew appearing later)...
The reason why I believe flower wreath, medicinal herbs and morning dew rituals didn't originate in Latvia, and were originally performed at the beginning of summer, is because both the Irish and Serbian traditions agree when dew face wash should be done (beginning of summer)
As we know the Irish and the Serbs didn't really have much cultural contacts in say, few thousand years...🙂 So we could be pretty sure that this is an ancient custom preserved by both people independently, and not borrowed from each other recently...
Anyway, very interesting I think and worth further research...
This is Dún Briste (literally Broken Fort) in Co. Mayo, Ireland. This 50 metres tall sea-stack stands just off Downpatrick Head, in the townland of Knockaun, east of the quiet village of Ballycastle. The stack is crowned by an old ruined fort...
There is a local legend that explains the name "Broken Fort". It was collected by Douglas Hyde and published in 1914 book "Legends of Saints & Sinners"...It is called "St Patrick and Crom Dubh" and I will here give a short version...With interpretation 🙂
...Before St. Patrick came to Ireland there lived a chieftain...in Co. Mayo, and his name was Crom Dubh. Crom Dubh lived beside the sea in a place...which is now called Dún Briste, or Broken Fort. My story will tell why it is called Dún Briste...
...Crom Dubh was one of the worst men that could be found, but as he was a chieftain over the people of that country he had everything his own way; and that was the bad way, for he was an evil-intentioned...man, with desire to be avenged on every one who did not please him...
...He had two sons... (who were) were worse than himself, and that leaves them bad enough! Crom Dubh (also) had two hounds of dogs...and if ever there were [wicked] mastiffs these two dogs were they....
...And, to go further, Crom Dubh had a big fire kindled...Anyone who displeased him, used to be brought before Crom Dubh, as he sat beside the fire, and Crom used to pass judgment upon him, and after the judgment the man used to be thrown into the fire...
...It is said that a fairy sweetheart walked with Crom Dubh, and giving him knowledge according as he used to require it. And every scheme hatched against Crom Dubh to put him out of the world, he overcame them all, for he had too much wizardry from the fairy sweetheart...
...The fame of Crom Dubh and his two sons, and his two mastiffs, went far and wide, for their evil-doing; and the people were so terrified at his name, not to speak of himself, that they used to hide their faces in their bosoms when they used to hear it mentioned in their ears...
...Crom Dubh was continuing his evil deeds for many years...and every year it was getting worse...Some say that he was a native of hell...But people had no knowledge of God or Mary...and for that reason they could not put trust in any person beyond Crom Dubh...
Here is the interesting bit 🙂
...because they thought, bad as he was, that it was he who was giving them the light of the day, the darkness of the night, and the change of seasons...
Who gives light and darkness and seasons? The sun god of course...The god for whom the Bronze Age Grange stone circle was built.
The stone circle aligned to Crom Dubh's day, the day that marks the moment of maximum heat and to summer solstice, the day of maximum daylight...
It is Crom Dubh that St Patrick had to defeat to Christianise the Irish...After which Patrick took over Crom Dubh's holy mountain.
And became "the one who decides the faith of the Irish"...
And so enters Patrick:
...During this time St. Patrick was going throughout Ireland, working diligently and baptising many people....
...St. Patrick began explaining to the Pagans about the light and glory of the heavens. Some gave ear to him, but the most of them paid him no attention...Patrick took all those who listened...to be baptised to the well which is now called Tobar Phadraig or Patrick's Well...
...When these Pagans got the seal of Christ on their forehead...they began telling St. Patrick about the doings of Crom Dubh and his evil ways, and they besought him...to chastise Crom Dubh, rightly or wrongly, or to give him the Christian faith if it were possible...
Interesting right? The pagans get baptised and the Old God becomes Devil. Actually not even Devil, as that would give the Old God too much importance. The Old God becomes an Evil Chieftain...Much easier to deal with...
To cut the long story short, St Patrick arrives to Crom Dubh's house "...with his defensive company with him..."
Now does this imply that St Patrick used force during his conversion of the Irish?
...Crom Dubh set his dogs on St Patrick, with coals of fire coming out of their mouths, and a blue venomous light burning in their eyes...But Patrick tamed Crom Dubh's hounds and they become Patrick's hounds. Then Patrick extinguished Crom Dubh's fire. Then Patrick tried to "put the seal of Christ on Crom Dubh's forehead, but Crom Dubh did not give any ear to St. Patrick's words"...
...Then Crom Dubh tried "deviltry, druidism, witchcraft and black art" trying to gain the victory over St. Patrick. But it was all no use for him, for the words of God were more powerful than the deviltry of the fairy sweetheart...
Finally:
...St. Patrick gave a blow of his crozier to the cliff under the base of the gable of the house, and he separated that much of the cliff from the cliffs on the mainland, and that is to be seen there today...and that is the cliff that is called Dún Briste or Broken Fort...
...Crom Dubh had to remain on top of the cliff "until the midges and the scald crows had eaten the flesh off his bones". And that is the death that Crom Dubh got...
...The people gathered in multitudes from every side doing honourable homage to St. Patrick, and the pride of the world on them that an end had been made of Crom Dubh...There was a well near and handy, and he baptised them all...
...There is not a year from that out that the people used not to make a pilgrimage to the well, on the anniversary of that day; and that day is the last Sunday of the seventh month, and the name of the Sunday is Crom Dubh's Sunday...
And so the people, on whose foreheads Patrick put the sign of the cross, after he banished their Sun God Crom Dubh, continued celebrating Crom Dubh's day...🙂 Under the pretext that they celebrated the victory of Patrick over Crom Dubh...I mean the day is still today known as "Domhnach Crom Dubh" which means "Crom Dubh's Sunday"...
Being a proper Sun God, Crom Dubh's day is Sunday. But not any Sunday. Sunday marking the middle of the hottest part of the year, the time when Sun's fire burns the strongest (like Crom Dubh's fire). Which accidentally falls in the middle of the Dog Days (like the Crom Dubh's ones which breathe fire and have light flashing out of their eyes)...
Oh by the way, did you know that right about the time when Patrick killed the Sun God and extinguished his fire, there was a major drop in temperature in Europe? You see the sudden drop in the second part of the 5th century AD?
How cool is this story?
It is a historical account of the forceful conversion of the Irish and turning of their Sun god into Devil basically, by "The Patron Saint" of the Irish St Patrick "and his defensive company"...Oh and of the beginning of the medieval ice age...
When I was born my father planted an apple tree.
At that time my family lived in a small village in the mountains of the south eastern Serbia, where my parents worked as teachers...They lived in a house next to the school building, so he planted the tree in front of it...
Then, at the age of 2, after I almost died from pneumonia in a village with no road, 20 km from the nearest doctor, my mother who was then pregnant with my brother, decided she had enough, and so we left the village and moved to Belgrade.
I spent first 2 years of my life in the village of Repište where my parents worked in a primary school as teachers. The village was perched high in the hills of the Grdelica gorge in south-eastern Serbia. Even though a road went through the bottom of the gorge, the only way to reach the village was on foot. From the road you first had to cross the river Morava via a rickety suspension footbridge. You then had to walk along the river until you reached the beginning of the path that zig-zagged up the steep hillside covered in thick forest. You then had to follow this path up the hill for several kilometres, until you reached the small plateau with the school and the teacher's house. The village, which consisted of groups of family compounds was strewn across the highland plateau behind the school.
When I was one and a bit, I got really sick. I had high fever and was having problems breathing. My parents tried their best to keep the temperature down and to help me with herbal remedies and folk cures. But I got worse and worse and eventually my parents decided to take me to the doctors.
Now - this is all happening in the middle of the winter. The village is completely cut-off from the rest of the world by a half a meter of snow. It is already evening and the only doctor is in the hospital located in the town at the end of the gorge, some 20 kilometres away.
And so my father put his boots and his coat and his hat on and my mother wrapped me in a blanket and gave me to him. They kissed at the door and my father set off through the snow towards the forest and the edge of the gorge.
My mother later told me that as my father disappeared in the darkness, she felt sick with fear that she might not see either one of us again.
The sky was clear and in the moonlight my father could just about see where he was going, but the path down the side of the gorge was steep and covered in snow. If my father had slipped and hurt himself and was not able to walk, we would have both frozen to death. That is if we weren't attacked and eaten by wolves before that...
But somehow he managed to make his way down to the bottom of the gorge. He then wanted to go to the bridge and cross the river, but the path along the river was impassable. It was blocked by mountainous snow drifts and he just couldn't push through. He could see the road on the other side of the river. From time to time a truck would drive by towards the town and the hospital. My breathing was very weak, my temperature was very high and I was unconscious. He could not go back home. He had to get to the hospital.
And so my father decided to cross the river on foot. He took his coat off and placed me on it. He then took his boots, socks and trousers off and bundled all that into the coat with me. He then took this bundle in his arms and waded through the freezing water across the river. The water wasn't deep at that time of the year, maybe up to his thighs, but it was full of boulders and debris and had very treacherous strong currents. And it was freezing with temperature minus who knows what. And my father could barely see where he was stepping... But he somehow managed to get across.
Once on the other side, he got dressed again, clambered up the river bank and found himself on an empty road covered in snow. He waited there for over an hour before another truck passed by. He managed to signal the driver who stopped and picked him up. The driver took my father to the town and the hospital, where they diagnosed me with pneumonia and put me on high doses of antibiotics which basically saved my life. A day later, my father made the same trip back to the village, with me, now breathing much easier and a bag of antibiotics. Eventually I recovered and here I am, 52 years later, telling this story.
After this my mother insisted that we move to a town. Any town with a doctor. So a year later, by pure luck, my father got a job in Belgrade, and we left Repište.
My father never talked about any of this. Probably because for him this was all normal, something that any father would have done for his child. I only found out what happened when I was a teenager. My mother told me the story after, during a fight with my father, I asked him why should I respect him...
Years passed...One late August, my father decided to show me the place where I was born. After a long car drive and a long hike up the mountain, we finally reached the village...And there in front of the school, I saw a beautiful young apple tree full of apples...
It is then that my father told me that this was "my tree" which he planted when I was born. When I asked him why he did it, he told me that in his village people always planted a fruit or nut tree when a child was born, so each child would have a tree to grow together with...
Many more years passed. I started researching Slavic tree worship, and then I remembered my apple tree. I started digging around, and it turned out that the custom was not a widespread or well known custom in Serbia...
But maybe it once was, because what I could find was this:
Slavs had huge respect for fruit trees. It was forbidden to cut a fruit tree. Even injuring a fruit tree was seen as a sin which could lead to injury, death, drought...
Slavs saw fruit trees as "symbolic human twins". There is a Slavic belief that if a storm uprooted an apple tree, that would be a sign that the owner would die...This is most likely a remnant of the custom of planting a fruit tree when a child is born to give child a tree twin...
In Polesie, the area in Poland, Belarus and Ukraine, after the death of the owner, people used to cut down one of his pear or apple trees. Here again we see this link between a person and a tree and of the ritual planting of fruit trees for a newborn children...
In Serbia, after a person died, a fruit tree was planted "if the person didn't plant one himself while he was alive". People believed that after someone died, his soul spent some time in a fruit tree or a stone...Another link between the people and trees and their destinies...
Fruit trees were also never used in sickness transfer magic...This is magic in which sickness is transferred from a person to a tree...Why? Is it because all fruit trees were seen as someone's twins?
But at the same time there was a custom to perform healing magic (which was assisted by the spirits of the dead ancestors) in orchards. Why? Is it because fruit trees contained spirits of their human twins?
And what abut a Serbian custom of of burying children which died before they were baptised under fruit trees...
Fruit trees were also directly linked to human fertility, particularly female fertility. If a woman wants to cure her infertility, she needs to eat first buds, flowers or fruit from a fruit tree which produces a lot of fruit every year. Or the last fruit left on such a tree...
A pregnant woman was forbidden to climb fruit trees or even touch them, because "the tree would dry out" (she would steal the tree's fertile energy)...
Fruit trees were also linked to male fertility. There was a belief in Serbia that "men who graft fruit trees a lot will not have children"...Grafting was seen as a kind of fertility magic, in which a man grafting the tree transferred, in some way, his fertility to the tree...
The water that was used to wash a woman in labor was thrown under a fruit tree and umbilical cords were also buried under fruit trees. To keep the mother and child healthy...
In Croatian villages in Srem, on the day of the wedding, bride would wash herself in water in which aromatic herbs, gold coins and walnuts were thrown. That water was spilled under a fruit tree that yielded a lot of fruit every year. So that the bride would have many children...
The fact that Croats used walnut as a magic ingredient in the bride's bath is interesting. Because, once there was a custom in some parts of Croatia (Slavonia) and in Serbia, to plant a walnut tree when a baby was born...
In Serbia, walnut with honey is given to the bride and groom on entering her husband's house "so they will can have many children"...
Another wedding fertility ritual from Serbia which involved walnuts were so called "svadbeni orasi" (wedding walnuts). This was a mix of grain, fruit and walnuts which was thrown on the newly weds as part of the wedding ceremony...
By the way, this was also a Roman custom. They threw walnuts at the bride and groom to ensure their fertility...Anyone else has this "strange" custom of throwing walnuts at the bride and groom?
In Serbia walnut is also the food of the dead. During Christmas celebrations, which are in Serbia part of the ancestral cult, one walnut is thrown into each corner of the house "for the ancestors"...
Interestingly, Serbs believed that it was the ancestors who gave the living all the fruit of the land. Which means that here walnut was again part of a fertility ritual...
So no surprise then that walnut tree was planted when a child was born. It is all part of the same fertility cult. Well, it is a surprise. Because at the same time people believed that "walnut was an evil tree"...
They believed that it was bad to plant walnut tree next to the house, as its shade is evil and will cause all people from the house to die. A person who falls asleep under a walnut tree will wake up sick. A walnut tree will cause infertility in people and animals...
And the best part: A person who plants the walnut will die when the walnut tree trunk becomes as thick as the person't waist (or neck)...
Wow!!! Great example how the old pagan "good tree", the tree of Jove, was turned into an "evil tree" by the Christians. The part about "walnut tree makes people die" would sure stop people from planting walnuts, right? Well obviously it didn't stop Serbs doing it...
Serbs get the grandfather to plant a tree for his grandson. And because walnuts grow very slowly, the prospect of dying when the tree trunk became the same thickness as the planter's waist (neck) turned this "curse" into a "blessing"...🙂
I already said that the same custom of planting a walnut tree when a child was born once existed in Croatia's Slavonia region. In Dalmatia region of Croatia, people planted lemon when a child was born. And in some other parts of Croatia an oak was planted instead...
Oak was the main holy tree of the Slavs. It was the tree of the thunder god Perun, and therefore the equivalent of walnut, which was the tree of the Roman thunder god Jupiter, Jove...
In Serbia oak's importance and veneration was such that the Christian church eventually adopted it as a Christmas tree. But the church seem to have managed to stop Serbian people from planting the oak trees for newborn children...
This tradition however persisted in Russia, where when a boy was born, people planted an oak and when a girl was born people planted a birch tree... This is because they believed that oaks posses male energy and that birches posses female energy...
In Slovenia a linden tree, another Slavic holy tree, was planted when a child was born.
But this custom of planting trees for newborn children was not just found among Slavs...
In Aargau, Switzerland, an apple-tree was planted for a boy and a pear-tree for a girl, and the people thought that the child would flourish or dwindle with the tree...
In Belgium it was a tradition to plant an oak tree when a baby boy was born and a linden tree when a baby girl was born...
In some regions of Germany, a single fruit tree was planted for the birth of a child. It was a custom to plant an apple tree for a girl and a pear tree for a boy. Either parents or godparents can plant the tree but mostly it is the father who plants the tree for the newborn...
Sometimes the placenta (placenta) of the child was placed in the soil first, and then the tree was planted on top of it. And sometimes instead of planting a tree, the afterbirth was thrown out at the foot of a young tree, and the child was then believed to grow with the tree...
This is still very common in South Germany. The hospitals know about that and you get asked if you want to take the placenta home so you can bury it under the tree...
Finally, this belief about human - tree link, and the custom of planting trees when a child is born, is found in many other cultures around the world...
For instance, according to Babylonian Talmud, families would plant a tree in honour of the birth of a child. For a boy – they would plant a cedar sapling, and for a girl – a pine, cypress, or acacia tree.
Sir James George Frazer talks about it in his book "The Golden Bough", in the chapter entitled "The External Soul in Plants"...
So, back to my apple tree.
20 years ago I took my Irish wife to show her the place where I was born...And to show her my tree. It was still strong and healthy. The school was shut, crumbling. There were no children born any more in the village where I was born...
That was the last time I saw my twin...My father told me, that he heard from a woman that still lives in the village, that the tree still stands, next to a crumbling school building in the centre of now almost completely abandoned village...But for how much longer...
