In the statistical account of the parish of
Callender, in Stirlingshire, contained in Sir
John Sinclair's work, and published between
the years seventeen hundred and ninety-one
and seventeen hundred and ninety-nine, an
account is given of Beltane observances as
they there and then prevailed. This narrative
furnishes a link by which we can concisely
connect the still more modified paganism
of English May Day gambols with the grand
and savage rites of our fire-worshipping
fathers. The writer, speaking of Callender,
says: "The people of this district have two
customs, which are fast wearing out, not only
here but all over the highlands, and therefore
ought to be taken notice of while they
remain. Upon the first day of May, which
is called Beltane or Baltein-day, all the boys
in a township or hamlet meet on the moors.
They cut a table in the green sod, of a round
figure, by casting a trench in the ground of
such circumference as to hold the whole
company. They kindle a fire, and dress a
repast of eggs and milk in the consistence of
a custard. They knead a cake of oatmeal,
which is toasted at the embers against a
stone. After the custard is eaten up, they
divide the cake into so many portions, as
similar as possible to one another in size and
shape, as there are persons in the company.
They daub one of these portions all over
with charcoal until it be perfectly black.
They then put all the bits of cake into a
bonnet. Every one, blindfold, draws out a
portion. He who holds the bonnet is entitled
to the last bit. Whoever draws the black
bit is the devoted person who is to be
sacrificed to Baal, whose favour they mean to
implore in rendering the year productive of
the sustenance of man and beast. There is
little doubt of these inhuman sacrifices having
been once offered in this country as well as
in the East, although they now pass from the
act of sacrifice, and only compel the devoted
person to leap three times through the flames,
with which act the ceremonies of this festival
are closed."
The round trench mentioned in the above
description, is the representative of the stone
circles or fire-altars within which the Druids
kept fires perpetually blazing, and regarding
the vitrified remains of which an
account was given in Household Words for
April sixteenth. The shadow of the
propitiatory human sacrifice is distinctly seen
in the doom of the drawer of the blackened
cake.
Mr. Pennant, in his Tour in Scotland in
seventeen hundred and sixty-nine, gives a
somewhat similar account of Beltane observances,
but his description possesses some
variations and additional particulars. The use
of the square indicates either inaccuracy of
description or ritual degeneracy beyond that
narrated in the above extract. On the first
of May, according to Mr. Pennant, the village
herdsmen hold their Beltein—a rural
sacrifice. They cut a square trench on the
ground, leaving the turf in the middle; on
that they make a fire of wood, on which they
dress a large caudle of eggs, butter, oatmeal,
and milk. They bring, besides the
ingredients of the caudle, plenty of beer and
whiskey, for it is required that each of the
company contribute something to the offering.
The rites begin with spilling some of the
caudle upon the ground. Everyone then
takes a cake of oatmeal, upon which are
raised nine square knots, each of which is
dedicated to some particular animal known
to be the preserver or destroyer of their
herds. Each then turns his face to the fire,
breaks off a knot, and, flinging it over his
shoulder, says, This I give to thee, preserve
thou my horses; this to thee, preserve thou
my sheep; and so on. After that, they use
the same ceremony in respect of the noxious
animals, saying, This I give to thee, O fox!
spare thou my lambs; this to thee, O hooded
crow! and this to thee, O eagle! When the
sacrificial ceremony is concluded, the
company dines upon the caudle. After the feast
the remains are hid by two persons deputed
for that purpose; and on the following
Sunday there is another meeting to finish the
left viands.
Slender traces of the observance of Beltane-
day only now remain in any part of Scotland.
In this respect the change has been very
rapid within the last fifty years. The advance
of agricultural pursuits, the increasing
intelligence of the people, and the immense
emigration which has been going on for many
years from the highlands and islands, fully
explain the rapidity of this change. Civilisation
in the lowlands accomplished at an
earlier period a more complete uprooting of
paganism than has even yet been effected in
some parts of the remote highlands of the
northern kingdom. The pulpit waged war
with the remains of heathen rites in many
Scottish parishes. This, no doubt, had its
effect in bringing them into disrepute with
many religious persons, who, in ignorance of
their nature, had participated in them as
innocent holiday occasions, but who recoiled
from amusements which they were told were
heathenish.
In the year eighteen hundred and twenty-
six or twenty-seven, the writer heard a
sermon against heathen observances preached
in the parish church of Stow, a village
twenty-four miles to the south of Edinburgh.
The pastoral district of Gala-water, in which
Stow is situated, was at that time much less
occupied with agricultural and other active
pursuits than it now is, and its inhabitants
were then attached to the observance of
several annual solemnities of pagan origin,
regarding which, perhaps, they are now less
enthusiastic. The special occasion of the
sermon was the approach of Fastern's E'en,
or Shrove Tuesday, as it is called south of the
Tweed. The custom was on that day for the
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