New Year. Or is it?

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESHooray! We’ve all made it (safely I hope) into another New Year. So firstly, I wish for you more of the things you enjoyed last year, and less of the things you didn’t like, in the year ahead. New Year is a time for new beginnings, for letting go past enmities and troubles and making a fresh start. Perhaps you opened your back door on the stroke of midnight to make sure the old year made a swift exit. In my family, the 1960s and 70s found my dad standing outside the front door clutching a piece of coal and a silver coin waiting to be let in as a ‘first-footer’. We needed a dark-haired man to be first over the threshold on New Year’s Day to bring luck for the following year and, fortunately, he fitted the bill perfectly. The coal represented warmth, the coin, fortune. It is an old, and predominantly northern tradition that can sometimes involve a piece of bread to represent food and some greenery to ensure long life for everyone.

New Year has not always been on January 1st, but it has always been a time for taking stock of your life and starting anew, as you mean to go on. In Ancient Babylonia the year began at the spring equinox. It was an eleven day festival that involved the king being stripped of his regalia and slapped around by a priest until he cried, just to make sure he respected the gods and didn’t get too above himself. Sadly, this ritual has now fallen from favour. It might have been fun to see Trump stripped to his underwear and slapped around Washington National Cathedral by its bishop as a sort of pre-inauguration ceremony. I have no idea weather the bishop would be up for this, wikipedia has little to say about the bishops political leanings. In fact, it has very little to say about her at all, but it’s a cheery thought to begin 2017.

Ordinary people would try to placate their gods by making promises to them, typically, to return borrowed farm equipment. We also often make promises to be better people, in the form of New Year’s Resolutions. Though, if the Ancient Babylonians were as good at sticking to their resolve as we are, there were probably plenty of farmers who never saw their ploughs again.

01 01 janusIt was the Romans who fixed New Year’s Day as January 1st. They made it sacred to their god Janus. Perhaps the whole month of January is named after him. Janus is the god of gateways, of beginnings and of transitions. He has two faces, one looking forwards and the other backwards. He looks to the future but also the past. So he sits quite well at the threshold between one year and the next. The Romans believed that the beginning of anything held omens for the whole. So it was important to greet everyone cheerfully and to give and receive small gifts. If you want to follow their lead, you should also devote a little time to your usual work. Not too much, don’t go overboard and leave the house or anything.

In England the date on which the New Year started has been confusing. Although most people considered New Year’s day to be January 1st, Samuel Pepys certainly did, the year legally did not begin until March 25th. Between the seventh and twelfth centuries, it began on December 25th. Then, there was the liturgical year, which began on the first Sunday of Advent. Most of Europe began to accept January 1st as the beginning of the New Year in the sixteenth century. Scotland adopted it is 1600 to keep in line with other “well governit commonwealths” in Europe, which probably explains why they’re so much better at New Year than we are. They’ve had more practice. In England we stuck with March 25th until we adopted the Gregorian Calendar in 1752. It must have been difficult. In the days surrounding Christmas and New Year, it’s hard enough to know what day it is, without wondering what year it is as well.

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Wheels on Fire

06 23 john the baptistToday it is Saint John’s Eve, the day before the feast of Saint John the Baptist. John was cousin to Jesus and the Bible tells us that he was six months older. So, we have his feast day now, around midsummer, because we have Christmas around midwinter. But most of the traditions associated with the celebration seem to have little to do with a desert-dwelling saint. Like some of our Christmas traditions, its pagan roots are definitely showing.

Saint John’s Eve was quite a significant celebration in Europe up until the nineteenth century. As Christmas replaced the Winter Solstice, the feast of Saint John was placed around the time of the Summer Solstice. We know that these days were significant in ancient times because many of our stone circles and burial chambers are aligned with the sunrise on those days.

06 23 saint john's eve fireCentral to the Saint John’s Eve festivities was the bonfire, which was often built at the top of a hill. It was thought to offer protection from evil spirits who were generally on the loose at this time of year. In Sweden, for example, it was thought that, on this night, the mountains cracked open and trolls were set free. According to a thirteenth century monk from Winchcomb Abbey in Gloucestershire, the fires were built from bones instead of wood. Indeed the word bonfire is most likely a corruption of bone fire. The idea of building a fire of bones was to create as much foul-smelling smoke as possible. This, he says, was necessary to drive away dragons which it seems were a particular problem at this time of year. The whole difficulty with dragons at midsummer, was that this was the time that they gathered in the air to mate. This caused them to drop their ‘seed’ into rivers and wells which poisoned the water which was clearly awful. Though I would have thought that a dragon, of all things, would have been used to the smell of burning bones. Maybe they weren’t the fire-breathing kind.

A second tradition mentioned by the monk was rolling a wheel down a hill. The wheel, he tells us, “is rolled to signify that the sun then rises to the highest point of its circle and at once turns back; thence it comes that the wheel is rolled.” These kind of events feature in the Saint Johns Eve celebrations all over Northern Europe and sometimes the two were combined. If we skip to the sixteenth century, in the village of Konz, in the Moselle Valley, we find people rolling their bonfire down a hill. A wheel would be covered in brushwood or straw and set on fire at the top of the hill. It would then be guided down the slope by a couple of brave souls. The aim was to roll it into the river. It wasn’t easy as there were plenty of vineyards to negotiate on the way. If they succeeded, they were entitled to a wagon load of wine. If they failed, their cattle would be attacked by fits of giddiness and convulsions and would “dance in their stalls”.

Like other ceremonial fires, the smoke from a Saint John’s Eve bonfire was thought to protect livestock and the ashes were supposed to have protective qualities too. They could be taken away and buried it the fields to protect crops or placed in the eaves of a house to protect it from lightening or from fire in the following year.

06 23 larkspurFlower garlands were often an important part of the celebrations too. In some places they were cast onto the bonfire, in others they had to be rescued from the flames. I found that, in several areas of Germany, people believed that looking at the fire through a garland of flowers, particularly larkspur or mugwort, was supposed to protect one from eye diseases in the following year. I really can’t explain why protection against eye diseases in particular, should be a feature of this festival. The problems with dancing cattle and poisonous dragon sperm are equally opaque, but they don’t seem to have much to do with the story of John the Baptist.

Re: Joyce

06 16 ulyssesToday, along with many other people around the world, I am celebrating Bloomsday. Bloomsday is named after one of the central characters, Leopold Bloom, in James Joyce’s novel ‘Ulysses’.

The events of the novel are firmly placed between 8am on June 16th 1904 and 2am the following morning. Which was, for Joyce, a commemoration of the day that he and his future wife Nora Barnacle first ‘stepped out’ together. The structure of the novel closely follows the events in Homer’s Odyssey, which describes the journey of Odysseus (in Latin, Ulysses), as he travels home to Ithaca from the Trojan War. But Joyce’s characters are ordinary citizens of Dublin having an ordinary day. Each of the eighteen episodes is written in a different style. It is a large and complex novel. Joyce wrote a couple of schemata for friends to help them understand his work. He ascribed each episode a meaning, a colour, a bodily organ. If you were thinking of reading it and want to get a handle on it first, you can find one of his schema here. Or if that puts you off, you could listen to Stephen Fry enthuse about the beauty of its language here.

Joyce wrote his novel between 1914 and 1921 and, between 1918 and 1920, an American magazine called the Little Review began to publish it in serial form. But publication was halted in 1920 when it became the subject of an obscenity trial. It was first published in its entirety in Paris in 1922. This first edition is said to have contained over two thousand errors. Other editions have tried to make corrections but just wound up making more, so the first edition may still be the most accurate.

Bloomsday was first commemorated in a small way in 1924, twenty years after the events in the book. Joyce was in hospital following an eye operation. His friends sent him a bunch of blue and white flowers, which were the colours of the cover of his novel. Thirteen years after Joyce’s death, on June 16th 1954, three Irish novelists; Brian O’Nolan, Patrick Kavanagh and Anthony Cronin met with artist and critic John Ryan and Tom Joyce, a dentist who was Joyce’s cousin. They began at the Martello Tower at Sandy Cove which features in the opening scene. After hiring two old fashioned horse drawn cabs they intended to visit all the sites mentioned in the novel ending in what used to be the brothel quarter of the city. It didn’t start well. O’Nolan turned up drunk and there was a bit of an altercation when he and Kavanagh decided that they had to climb the tower. O’Nolan was eventually bundled into one of the cabs and they drank and sang their way around the city until they arrived at the Bailey pub in Duke Street, which belonged to Ryan. They never completed their odyssey, once there, they drank so much that they could go no further.

Bloomsday is now a massive event in Dublin. Many of the celebrations are organised by the James Joyce Museum which can be found at the Martello Tower mentioned above. People follow the route taken by Leopold Bloom in the novel. They often dress up as the characters from the novel, in Edwardian costume. There are readings and dramatisations of scenes from Ulysses. Pubs are crawled and special meals are served. The Bloomsday breakfast is popular. People like to eat the same meal enjoyed by Bloom, which is surprising as this is how Joyce describes it:

Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods’ roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.

Personally, I would prefer the Gorgonzola cheese sandwich and glass of burgundy he has for lunch. For hardcore fans, there are complete readings of the novel which can last for up to thirty-six hours. In 1982, Irish radio station RTÉ broadcast a complete reading and in 06 16 james joyce2004. To mark 100th anniversary of the events in the novel 10,000 people were served a special Irish Breakfast. In 2011, a global attempt was made to tweet the novel. Its organisers were not sure if it would produce something beatific or be a complete train wreck. I’m not sure how it went but it was certainly a magnificent idea.

Joyce was, at first, unsure whether June 16th would, in the future, be of any significance to anyone at all. He was rather bemused when he met people who loved it. One fan begged to kiss the hand that wrote Ulysses. He laughed and said: “no, that hand has done a lot of other things as well.”

Tiny Wasp Day

02 07 charles iiMay 29th used to be a public holiday here in Britain. It was called Oak Apple Day. An oak apple is a kind of gall, that sometimes grows on oak trees. It is the home of a tiny wasp larva. But that’s not what’s being celebrated here. Because that would be weird. No, Oak Apple Day is all about celebrating a king hiding in a tree.

We had beheaded our king, Charles I, in 1649 as a result of the English Civil War. His son escaped and was briefly made king of Scotland, but it all went very wrong and he was forced to flee. Despite having a price of £1000 pounds on his head, he found friends to help him. Cromwell’s New Model Army were everywhere, it wasn’t safe to hide in a house so he had to climb an oak tree and hid there. He later told his friend Samuel Pepys that he could see the soldiers passing directly underneath the tree. He eventually managed to make it to France where he stayed for nine years. On 29th May 1660, which was also his 30th birthday, the monarchy was restored and he was made king. The following day, Parliament declared that is would be made a national holiday.

Everyone would wear an oak apple or a sprig of oak leaves on that day in celebration of the event. You need to understand that under Cromwell’s rule, we weren’t allowed to celebrate anything. I mentioned earlier this month that the Puritans, who were in charge during the Commonwealth, weren’t keen on theatre. They also banned alcohol and Christmas. Charles II, on the other hand, was all about fun, which was a bit of a relief and certainly an occasion worth celebrating. In fact, you could get into trouble for not celebrating it. Anyone found not wearing their oak could be beaten with nettles or have eggs thrown at them.

05 29 oak apple dayIn 1859 parliament changed their minds about Oak Apple Day and abolished it. They decided it had become associated with drunkenness and general mayhem. But the day is still celebrated in some places. The picture on the left shows the annual celebration in Castleton in Derbyshire. The person covered in the flowery bell is King Charles and the lady behind him is the Queen. They are both dressed in period costume and the king is certainly hidden, but there’s definitely something else going on here. They ride around the town accompanied by a band, morris dancers and little girls dressed in white. Then the huge garland is hoisted up the side of the church tower where it hangs until the flowers wilt. It’s probably related to an earlier May Day ceremony that would also have been banned by the Puritans. Perhaps the King is a stand in for a Jack-in-the-Green figure representing the pagan spirit of the greenwood. I did find a book from the early 1820s that described a ceremony at Tiverton in Devon, where the procession was led by a figure known as ‘Oliver’. Presumably, he was meant to represent Cromwell. He was dressed in black and had his face smeared with soot and grease and was tied up with a rope. He capered about the crowd in a ludicrous manner and children threw dirt at him.

When I started to read up a little bit about oak apples, I found out that they weren’t just a weird growth formed by an invasive insect, they were once actually quite useful. Oak galls were used to make iron gall ink. It was made by mixing the tannin from oak galls with iron sulfate. Being both permanent and waterproof, it was the most popular method of making ink in Europe for around 1400 years. Leonardo da Vinci used it, so did Vincent van Gogh. The earliest surviving copy of the Bible was written with it and iron gall ink was used to draft the American Declaration of Independence. So maybe it is worth celebrating tiny wasps after all.

Election Special

05 20 garrat electionToday, I want to tell you about the Garrat Elections, which were mock elections that took place between the 1740s and the 1800s in, what was then a tiny hamlet just south of the River Thames. Garrat was situated between Wandsworth and Tooting, on the edge of Wandsworth Common. These elections were timed to run alongside the General Election and at least one of them took place on May 20th. Garret was tiny. It had no representation in Parliament. Also at this time, almost no one had the right to vote anyway. The people of Garrat were in danger of losing their access rights to the small common and they weren’t very happy about it. They got up a sort of protest committee and elected a leader. Then, they decided that their leader would be given the title ‘Mayor of Garret’. Of course, Garret was so small that they didn’t really need anything as fancy as a mayor, so it was all a bit of a joke. As there was a General Election at the time, they decided that the Mayor would serve for the length of the Parliament and, when there was another General Election, they would appoint someone else.

Notification of an election would issue from a non-existent Town Hall. The candidates were always poor tradesmen, but they gave themselves fancy names like Squire Blowmedown, who was a Wandsworth waterman, Lord Twankum, a cobbler and grave-digger, and Sir George Comefirst, I couldn’t find out his occupation. They campaigned and produced pamphlets extolling their own virtues and damning those of the opposition, just like a real election. Local innkeepers happily paid to put up flags and placards and to build a hustings, even for the candidates lavish costumes, as they did pretty well out of the event. The Garrat Elections could attract crowds of 80,000.

On the day of the election, the candidates would set out from Southwark and then parade through Wandsworth, often in boats on wheels, and sometimes in the company of the ‘Garrat Cavalry’, a motley collection of forty boys riding ponies. The smallest boy being mounted on the biggest animal and the tallest of them on the smallest. They delivered their speeches from a hustings built on Garrat Green. But first they had to swear an oath, whilst resting their right hand on the symbol of the mob, a brickbat. If you’re wondering what a brickbat is, it’s a piece of brick that is useful for throwing at something, or someone. Their brickbat was, they said “handed down to us by the grand Volgee, by order of the great Chin Kaw Chipo, first Emperor of the Moon”. Later historians were a bit coy about what this oath actually was, as they had to swear that they had ‘enjoyed a woman’ somewhere in the district, preferably in the open air. Here it is:

That you have admitted peaceably and quietly, into possession of a freehold thatched tenement, either black, brown or coral, in a hedge or ditch, against a gate or style, under furze or fen, on any common or common field or enclosure, in the high road, or in any of the lanes, in barn, stable, hovel, or any other place within the manor of Garratt; and, that you did (Bona fide) keep (ad rem) possession of that said thatched tenement (durante bene placito) without any let, hindrance, or molestation whatever; or without any ejectment or forcibly turning out of the same; and that you did then and there and in the said tenement, discharge and duty pay and amply satisfy all legal demands of the tax that was at that time due on the said premises; and lastly, did quit and leave the said premises in sound, wholesome and good tenable repair as when you took possession and did enter therein. So help you.

05 20 jeffrey dunstanThe first elections were between two candidates, but by 1781, there were nine. Among them was a man who called himself Sir John Gnawpost, which is my favourite. There were also Sir William Swallowtail, who was actually a basket weaver named Cook; Sir Buggy Bates, a waterman and chimney sweep and Sir Jeffrey Dunstan, who actually stood under his own name, though he certainly wasn’t a knight of the realm. Sir Jeffrey Dunstan was a purveyor of second hand wigs. He was a well-known figure who was often seen shouting his wares about the streets of London. This portrait of him is not an unkind caricature, he was four feet tall and always went about with his coat and shirt unfastened, his breeches unbuttoned at the knee and his stockings hanging down. Some of the candidates processed in style. Most notably, Sir William Swallowtail, who had woven a carriage for himself from wicker. But the streets were so crowded that they got stuck. Sir Jeffrey, who had arrived on foot, reached the hustings easily. Some candidates did not make it at all. Sir John Harper sent word that he was too drunk to attend. Sir William Swallowtail was accused of having a contract to supply baskets to Parliament and Sir Buggy Bates that he supplied soot for ‘powder to destroy vermin in biscuit.’ Sir Jeffrey was elect despite the fact it was suggested that his daughter was to marry the Prime Minister, Lord North. Jeffrey Dunstan was a popular candidate and was returned as mayor on two subsequent occasions. In 1796 he was ousted by Sir Harry Dimsdale, a muffin seller from Seven Dials.

After that, more well-off Londoners, who had previously enjoyed the spectacle started to feel rather uncomfortable about large groups of working-class people gathering together in unruly mobs. What with the French Revolution and everything. The whole thing just sort of stopped happening. But it was immortalised by Samuel Foote in his play ‘The Mayor of Garrat’. I really enjoyed learning about Samuel Foote back in January, so here is his picture again. That’s him in the frock…

01 27 lady pentweazel

Mercurial

05 15 mercuryToday is the Ides of May. You’ve probably heard of the Ides of March but there was an ‘ides’ in the middle of every Roman month. On the Ides of May there was a festival in honour of the god Mercury called Mercuralia. Mercury is really the Roman version of the Greek god Hermes. His mother was Maia, and it is after her that the month of May is probably named. His father was Jupiter, who frankly got around a bit. We know that Mercury is the messenger of the gods and that he wears a winged helmet and sandals. He carries a caduceus, a magic, winged staff with two serpents twined around it. Beyond that he’s rather hard to pin down. Mercurial, if you will. He is the god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence, messages, communication, travellers, boundaries, luck, trickery and thieves. That’s quite a diverse range. Though there probably is a link between financial gain and eloquence, luck and trickery. The name Mercury and the word ‘merchant’ probably come from the same root.

All his wings allowed him to travel quickly between the upper and lower worlds. As well as being a messenger he is credited with being a ‘psychopomp’ which is a marvellous word and it means that he guided the souls of the dead to the underworld. A bit like our ‘grim reaper’, but probably a bit more upbeat. His caduceus is a symbol associated with messengers in general and probably pre-dates both Mercury and Hermes. You can see them in images dedicated to the Mesopotamian god of the Underworld dating from the twenty-first century BC. The caduceus belonging to Hermes is supposed to have been a gift from Apollo that had once belonged to his blind prophet Tiresias. Tireseas used his staff to kill one of a pair of copulating serpents a was turned into a woman as a punishment. But that’s a whole other story, that I’m probably not going to have time to get round to. Also as it is sometimes seen as a staff which is dividing two fighting snakes and representing skills in negotiation.

Mercury/Hermes is a clever character but not entirely trustworthy. In Greek mythology, it seems that when he was just four hours old he killed a tortoise, made its shell into a musical instrument, thus inventing the lyre, and learned to play it. Later the same day he stole some cattle belonging to his half-brother Apollo. He managed to cover his tracks by putting the cattles’ hooves on backwards before he drove them away. When asked about it, he denied even knowing what a cow was. Seriously, don’t trust this guy. Hermes and Apollo later made up. Hermes gave Apollo his lyre and Apollo gave him the caduceus.

The Romans adopted a lot of their gods from the Greeks and, as their empire spread, they also got very good at reinterpreting other people’s gods to fit in with their own pantheon. In Gaul and in Britain they encountered a god named Lugh who was similarly represented as a multi-talented fellow who was also a bit of a trickster. So they decided he must be Mercury too. It didn’t really matter that this god had three faces and three penises. The Romans were pretty tolerant like that and they wanted him anyway.

In Rome, the festival of Mercury was celebrated by those connected with commerce. They prayed to him for forgiveness for all the lies they had told in the past and also to ask for success in all the lying they were going to do in the future. If you want to celebrate Mercularia today and you own a ship, merchandise or indeed a head, what you need to do is this… Take some water from the holy well of Mercury, (there is one at Porta Capena in Rome, but maybe you can find another) and dip a laurel branch in it and sprinkle it over your stuff or yourself. If you deal in mainly in electrical equipment though, probably stick with pouring it over your head.

Pagan of the Good Times

05 01 john collier queen guinevere's mayingToday I am celebrating May Day, Beltane and Walpurgisnacht. The beginning of May is a time of year when, supposedly, the warmer weather comes and everything begins to blossom and grow. Festivals have been held at this time throughout Europe for centuries. When I wrote about the founding of Rome in 753 BC, I mentioned the festival of Parilia, which involved driving a flock of sheep through a bonfire to purify them and give them protection through the following year. This is not unlike the Beltane celebrations that we find in Scotland and Ireland. In a later period the Romans held another celebration called Floralia which was dedicated to Flora, the goddess of flowers and fertility. It was a six day festival covering the end of April and the beginning of May and is probably the origin of the ‘May Queen’ tradition in England. But the Roman festival was known for its licentiousness and pleasure-seeking atmosphere. It was a festival enjoyed by the common people of Rome. Prostitutes particularly made it their own. They performed naked in the theatre and perhaps also fought in the gladiatorial arena. This doesn’t sound so much like our English festival.

In England, the May Day festival is celebrated with dancing around a maypole, crowning a May Queen and, of course, Morris dancers. What could be more English than Morris dancers, right? The word ‘morris’ is an odd one but it is thought to derive from the word ‘Moorish’. The Moors, came originally from Morocco and settled in southern Europe in the eighth century. The term is first recorded in the fifteenth century and there seem to be comparable words in other European languages. So Morris dancing is not specifically English at all. The maypole is likely a remnant of tree worship originating amongst Germanic tribes. The dancing with ribbons is a more recent Victorian addition. It was all part of their vision of ‘Merry England’, a utopian paradise that never really existed. The crowning of a May Queen celebrates youth and new life and, as I said, probably Roman.

In Ireland and Scotland we find Beltane, which is principally a fire festival. Early sources suggest that two fires were lit and livestock were driven between them in order to provide protection for the following year. Possibly the first May bonfires were lit to drive away predators that might otherwise prove a danger to animals that were being taken to their summer pastures. Then, the fire became a ritual that would drive away all danger both natural and supernatural. Burning embers from the Beltane fire would be taken home and used to kindle a new fire in the hearth. Its ashes also had protective powers. They could be sprinkled on crops, on animals, on people. Some rituals seem to contain a memory of human sacrifice, such as leaping over the bonfire. There is an account from Scotland, mentioned in ‘The Golden Bough’, that describes a ritual in which the gathering pretended to throw someone onto the fire and afterwards spoke of him, for a while, as if he were dead.

Another feature of both May Day and Beltane was the gathering of yellow flowers to be placed at doors and windows and the construction of a May Bush. A thorn tree was be decorated with bright flowers, ribbons and painted shells. This could either be for a single household or a community endeavour. Competition between rival districts became strong, sometimes people would resort to theft. The problem of everyone trying to pinch everyone else’s bushes became so great in Ireland that the ceremony was banned in Victorian times.

In Northern Europe they celebrated Walpurgisnacht or, Hexennacht (witches night). It was celebrated on the evening of the 30th April and into the dawn of May Day. Fires were lit to drive away witches that were said to gather in the mountains on that night. In the Hartz Mountain region of Northern Germany, Walpurgisnacht celebrations sometimes gave rise to a phenomenon known as ‘the Brocken Spectre’. The Brocken is the highest peak in the Hartz mountains and almost always lost in fog. The spectre appears when a bright light casts the shadows of the observers onto the fog. It makes the shadows look enormous. They are often surrounded by a rainbow halo and generally a bit weird. The Hartz Mountains was one of the last regions in Germany to be converted to Christianity. The name Walpurgisnacht sounds like a brilliant Pagan word, but is in fact named after Saint Walpurga and is just another case of Christians spreading one of their saints all over an earlier festival. Saint Walpurga herself is disappointingly uninteresting apart from her name.

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photo credit: brocken inaglory, licensed under creative commons

May Day celebrations are generally pastoral in nature and, as our country became more industrialised, they gradually fell out of favour. By the twentieth century they were almost gone but, due to an interest in pre-Christian religions, they have recently undergone something of a resurgence. The oldest surviving festival is the ‘Obby ‘Oss Festival in Padstow, Cornwall and probably the most notable revival of the Beltane festival has taken place at Calton Hill in Edinburgh since 1988.

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image credit: stephan schafer, lich. licensed under creative commons