The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion (Third Edition, Vol. 10 of 12)Frazer, James George
Religion
The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion (Third Edition, Vol. 10 of 12)
Frazer, James George
Magic; Mythology; Religion; Superstition
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 license; 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 hand-bells, 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.(463)
(M159) In the canton of Breteuil in Picardy (department of Oise) 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.(464) The custom is, or was down
to recent years, similar at Vorges, near Laon. An enormous pyre, some
fifty or sixty feet high, supported in the middle by a tall pole, is
constructed every year on the twenty-third of June, the Eve of St. John.
It stands at one end of the village, and all the inhabitants contribute
fuel to it: a cart goes round the village in the morning, by order of the
mayor, collecting combustibles from house to house: no one would dream of
refusing to comply with the customary obligation. In the evening, after a
service in honour of St. John has been performed in the church, the
clergy, the mayor, the municipal authorities, the rural police, and the
fire-brigade march in procession to the bonfire, accompanied by the
inhabitants and a crowd of idlers drawn by curiosity from the neighbouring
villages. After addressing the throng in a sermon, to which they pay
little heed, the parish priest sprinkles the pyre with holy water, and
taking a lighted torch from the hand of an assistant sets fire to the
pile. The enormous blaze, flaring up against the dark sky of the summer
night, is seen for many miles around, particularly from the hill of Laon.
When it has died down into a huge heap of glowing embers and grey ashes,
every one carries home a charred stick or some cinders; and the
fire-brigade, playing their hose on what remains, extinguishes the
smouldering fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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