In addition to the four great festivals of the Pagan
Celtic year, there are four lesser holidays as well: the two solstices,
and the two equinoxes. In folklore, these are referred to as the
four 'quarter-days' of the year, and modern Witches call them
the four 'Lesser Sabbats', or the four 'Low Holidays'. The Summer
Solstice is one of them.
Gwyl Canol Haf, or Litha, is also known as Midsummer,
Summer Solstice etc., June 21-23. The sun is at it's strongest
and it is the longest day of the year, it is the first day of
summer according to the Farmers Almanac, and this is a time to
get out and enjoy yourself with others. The seeds have been planted,
and you are tending your garden, but also there is a break in
the gardening as things have taken root, and the harvest has not
yet begun. The colors for this sabbat are yellow and green.
Since most European peasants were not accomplished
at reading an ephemeris or did not live close enough to Salisbury
Plain to trot over to Stonehenge and sight down its main avenue,
they celebrated the event on a fixed calendar date, June 24th.
The minor discrepancies of the traditional date is the result
of many calendar changes down through the ages. It is opposite
to the winter solstice celebration, which is astronomically on
or about December 21st, but is celebrated on the traditional date
of December 25th, Yule, later adopted by the Christians.
Again, it must be remembered that the Celts reckoned
their days from sundown to sundown, so the June 24th festivities
actually begin on the previous sundown (our June 23rd). This was
Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Eve. Which brings up another point:
our modern calendars are quite misguided in suggesting that 'summer
begins' on the solstice. According to the old folk calendar, summer
BEGINS on May Day and ends on Lammas (August 1st), with the summer
solstice, midway between the two, marking MID-summer. This makes
more logical sense than suggesting that summer begins on the day
when the sun's power begins to wane and the days grow shorter.
Just as the Pagan mid-winter celebration of Yule
was adopted by Christians as Christmas (December 25th), so too
the Pagan mid-summer celebration was adopted by them as the feast
of John the Baptist (June 24th). Occurring 180 degrees apart on
the wheel of the year, the mid-winter celebration commemorates
the birth of Jesus, while the mid-summer celebration commemorates
the birth of John, the prophet who was born six months before
Jesus in order to announce his arrival.
Although modern Witches often refer to the holiday
by the rather generic name of Midsummer's Eve, it is more probable
that our Pagan ancestors of a few hundred years ago actually used
the Christian name for the holiday, St. John's Eve. This is evident
from the wealth of folklore that surrounds the summer solstice
(i.e. that it is a night especially sacred to the faerie folk)
but which is inevitably ascribed to 'St. John's Eve', with no
mention of the sun's position. Incidentally, the name 'Litha'
for the holiday is a modern usage, possibly based on a Saxon word
that means the opposite of Yule. Still, there is little historical
justification for its use in this context. But weren't our Pagan
ancestors offended by the use of the name of a Christian saint
for a pre-Christian holiday?
Well, to begin with, their theological sensibilities
may not have been as finely honed as our own. But secondly and
more importantly, St. John himself was often seen as a rather
Pagan figure. He was, after all, called 'the Oak King'. His connection
to the wilderness (from whence 'the voice cried out') was often
emphasized by the rustic nature of his shrines. Many statues show
him as a horned figure (as is also the case with Moses). Christian
iconographers mumble embarrassed explanations about 'horns of
light', while modern Pagans giggle and happily refer to such statues
as 'Pan the Baptist'. And to clench matters, many depictions of
John actually show him with the lower torso of a satyr, cloven
hooves and all! Obviously, this kind of John the Baptist is more
properly a Jack in the Green! Also obvious is that behind the
medieval conception of St. John lies a distant, shadowy Pagan
deity, perhaps the archetypal Wild Man of the Wood, whose face
stares down at us through the foliate masks that adorn so much
church architecture. Thus medieval Pagans may have had fewer problems
adapting than we might suppose.
In England, it was the ancient custom on St. John's
Eve to light large bonfires after sundown, which served the double
purpose of providing light to the revelers and warding off evil
spirits. This was known as 'setting the watch'. People often jumped
through the fires for good luck. In addition to these fires, the
streets were lined with lanterns, and people carried cressets
(pivoted lanterns atop poles) as they wandered from one bonfire
to another. These wandering, garland-bedecked bands were called
a 'marching watch'. Often they were attended by Morris dancers,
and traditional players dressed as a unicorn, a dragon, and six
hobby-horse riders. Just as May Day was a time to renew the boundary
on one's own property, so Midsummer's Eve was a time to ward the
boundary of the city.
Customs surrounding St. John's Eve are many and
varied. At the very least, most young folk plan to stay up throughout
the whole of this shortest night. Certain courageous souls might
spend the night keeping watch in the center of a circle of standing
stones. To do so would certainly result in either death, madness,
or (hopefully) the power of inspiration to become a great poet
or bard. This was also the night when the serpents of the island
would roll themselves into a hissing, writhing ball in order to
engender the 'glain', also called the 'serpent's egg', 'snake
stone', or 'Druid's egg'. Anyone in possession of this hard glass
bubble would wield incredible magical powers. Even Merlyn himself
(accompanied by his black dog) went in search of it, according
to one ancient Welsh story.
Snakes were not the only creatures active on Midsummer's
Eve. According to British faery lore, this night was second only
to Halloween for its importance to the wee folk, who especially
enjoyed a ridling on such a fine summer's night. In order to see
them, you had only to gather fern seed at the stroke of midnight
and rub it onto your eyelids. But be sure to carry a little bit
of rue in your pocket, or you might well be 'pixie-led'. Or, failing
the rue, you might simply turn your jacket inside-out, which should
keep you from harm's way. But if even this fails, you must seek
out one of the 'ley lines', the old straight tracks, and stay
upon it to your destination. This will keep you safe from any
malevolent power, as will crossing a stream of 'living' (running)
water.
Other customs included decking the house (especially
over the front door) with birch, fennel, St. John's wort, orpin,
and white lilies. Five plants were thought to have special magical
properties on this night: rue, roses, St. John's wort, vervain
and trefoil. Indeed, Midsummer's Eve in Spain is called the 'Night
of the Verbena (Vervain)'. St. John's wort was especially honored
by young maidens who picked it in the hopes of divining a future
lover.
And the glow-worm came
With its silvery flame,
And sparkled and shone
Through the night of St. John,
And soon has the young maid
Her love-knot tied.
There is good reason to see the Sun-God at his zenith
-- his peak of power -- on this day, and that his death at the
hands of his rival would not occur for another quarter of a year.
Material drawn from the Welsh mythos seems to support this thesis.
In Irish mythology, Midsummer was the occasion of the first battle
between the Fir Bolgs and the Tuatha De Danaan.
