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been drawn to the banks of the river Asopus and back to the town, attended by a piping and dancing crowd. After the festival the image was put away and kept till the celebration of the Great Daedala, which fell only once in sixty years. On this great occasion all the images that had accumulated from the celebrations of the Little Daedala were dragged on carts in solemn procession to the river Asopus, and then to the top of Mount Cithaeron. Here an altar had been constructed of square blocks of wood fitted together and surmounted by a heap of brushwood. Animals were sacrificed by being burned on the altar, and the altar itself, together with the images, were consumed by the flames. The blaze, we are told, rose to a prodigious height and was seen for many miles. To explain the origin of the festival it was said that once upon a time Hera had quarrelled with Zeus and left him in high dudgeon. To lure her back Zeus gave out that he was about to marry the nymph Plataea, daughter of the river Asopus. He caused a wooden image to be made, dressed and veiled as a bride, and conveyed on a bullock-cart. Transported with rage and jealousy, Hera flew to the cart, and tearing off the veil of the pretended bride, discovered the deceit that had been practised on her. Her rage was now changed to laughter, and she became reconciled to her husband Zeus.342

      The resemblance of this festival to some of the European spring and midsummer festivals is tolerably close. We have seen that in Russia at Whitsuntide the villagers go out into the wood, fell a birch-tree, dress it in woman's clothes, and bring it back to the village with dance and song. On the third day it is thrown into the water.343 Again, we have seen that in Bohemia on Midsummer Eve the village lads fell a tall fir or pine-tree in the wood and set it up on a height, where it is adorned with garlands, nosegays, and ribbons, and afterwards burnt.344 The reason for burning the tree will appear afterwards; the custom itself is not uncommon in modern Europe. In some parts of the Pyrenees a tall and slender tree is cut down on May Day and kept till Midsummer Eve. It is then rolled to the top of a hill, set up, and burned.345 In Angoulême on St. Peter's Day, 29th June, a tall leafy poplar is set up in the market-place and burned.346 In Cornwall “there was formerly a great bonfire on midsummer-eve; a large summer pole was fixed in the centre, round which the fuel was heaped up. It had a large bush on the top of it.”347 In Dublin on May-morning boys used to go out and cut a May-bush, bring it back to town, and then burn it.348

      Probably the Boeotian festival belonged to the same class of rites. It represented the marriage of the powers of vegetation in spring or midsummer, just as the same event is represented in modern Europe by a King and Queen or a Lord and Lady of the May. In the Boeotian, as in the Russian, ceremony the tree dressed as a woman represents the English May-pole and May-queen in one. All such ceremonies, it must be remembered, are not, or at least were not originally, mere spectacular or dramatic exhibitions. They are magical charms designed to produce the effect which they dramatically represent. If the revival of vegetation in spring is represented by the awakening of a sleeper, the representation is intended actually to quicken the growth of leaves and blossoms; if the marriage of the powers of vegetation is represented by a King and Queen of May, the idea is that the powers so represented will really be rendered more productive by the ceremony. In short, all these spring and midsummer festivals fall under the head of sympathetic magic. The event which it is desired to bring about is represented dramatically, and the very representation is believed to effect, or at least to contribute to, the production of the desired event. In the case of the Daedala the story of Hera's quarrel with Zeus and her sullen retirement may perhaps without straining be interpreted as a mythical expression for a bad season and the failure of the crops. The same disastrous effects were attributed to the anger and seclusion of Demeter after the loss of her daughter Proserpine.349 Now the institution of a festival is often explained by a mythical story of the occurrence upon a particular occasion of those very calamities which it is the real object of the festival to avert; so that if we know the myth told to account for the historical origin of the festival, we can often infer from it the real intention with which the festival was celebrated. If, therefore, the origin of the Daedala was explained by a story of a failure of crops and consequent famine, we may infer that the real object of the festival was to prevent the occurrence of such disasters; and, if I am right in my interpretation of the festival, the object was supposed to be effected by a dramatic representation of the marriage of the divinities most concerned with the production of vegetation.350 The marriage of Zeus and Hera was dramatically represented at annual festivals in various parts of Greece,351 and it is at least a fair conjecture that the nature and intention of these ceremonies were such as I have assigned to the Plataean festival of the Daedala; in other words, that Zeus and Hera at these festivals were the Greek equivalents of the Lord and Lady of the May. Homer's glowing picture of Zeus and Hera couched on fresh hyacinths and crocuses,352 like Milton's description of the dalliance of Zephyr and Aurora, “as he met her once a-Maying,” was perhaps painted from the life.

      Still more confidently may the same character be vindicated for the annual marriage at Athens of the Queen to Dionysus in the Flowery Month (Anthesterion) of spring.353 For Dionysus, as we shall see later on, was essentially a god of vegetation, and the Queen at Athens was a purely religious or priestly functionary.354 Therefore at their annual marriage in spring he can hardly have been anything but a King, and she a Queen, of May. The women who attended the Queen at the marriage ceremony would correspond to the bridesmaids who wait on the May-queen.355 Again, the story, dear to poets and artists, of the forsaken and sleeping Ariadne waked and wedded by Dionysus, resembles so closely the little drama acted by French peasants of the Alps on May Day356 that, considering the character of Dionysus as a god of vegetation, we can hardly help regarding it as the description of a spring ceremony corresponding to the French one. In point of fact the marriage of Dionysus and Ariadne is believed by Preller to have been acted every spring in Crete.357 His evidence, indeed, is inconclusive, but the view itself is probable. If I am right in instituting the comparison, the chief difference between the French and the Greek ceremonies must have been that in the former the sleeper was the forsaken bridegroom, in the latter the forsaken bride; and the group of stars in the sky, in which fancy saw Ariadne's wedding-crown,358 could only have been a translation to heaven of the garland worn by the Greek girl who played the Queen of May.

      On the whole, alike from the analogy of modern folk-custom and from the facts of ancient ritual and mythology, we are justified in concluding that the archaic forms of tree-worship disclosed by the spring and midsummer festivals of our peasants were practised by the Greeks and Romans in prehistoric times. Do then these forms of tree-worship help to explain the priesthood of Aricia, the subject of our inquiry? I believe they do. In the first place the attributes of Diana, the goddess of the Arician grove, are those of a tree-spirit or sylvan deity. Her sanctuaries were in groves, indeed every grove was her sanctuary,359 and she is often associated with the wood-god Silvanus in inscriptions.360 Like a tree-spirit, she helped women in travail, and in this respect her reputation appears to have stood high at the Arician grove, if we may judge from the votive offerings found on the spot.361 Again, she was the patroness of wild animals;362 just as in Finland the wood-god Tapio was believed to care for the wild creatures that roamed the wood, they being considered his cattle.363 So, too, the Samogitians deemed the birds and beasts of the woods sacred, doubtless because they were under the protection of the god of the wood.364 Again,

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<p>342</p>

Pausanias, ix. 3; Plutarch, ap. Eusebius, Praepar. Evang. iii. 1 sq.

<p>343</p>

Above, p. 76 sq.

<p>344</p>

Above, p. 79.

<p>345</p>

B. K. p. 177.

<p>346</p>

B. K. p. 177 sq.

<p>347</p>

Brand, Popular Antiquities, i. 318, Bohn's ed.; B. K. p. 178.

<p>348</p>

Hone, Every-day Book, ii. 595 sq.; B. K. p. 178.

<p>349</p>

Pausanias, viii. 42.

<p>350</p>

Once upon a time the Wotjaks of Russia, being distressed by a series of bad harvests, ascribed the calamity to the wrath of one of their gods, Keremet, at being unmarried. So they went in procession to the sacred grove, riding on gaily-decked waggons, as they do when they are fetching home a bride. At the sacred grove they feasted all night, and next morning they cut in the grove a square piece of turf which they took home with them. “What they meant by this marriage ceremony,” says the writer who reports it, “it is not easy to imagine. Perhaps, as Bechterew thinks, they meant to marry Keremet to the kindly and fruitful mukyl'c in, the earth-wife, in order that she might influence him for good.” – Max Buch, Die Wotjäken, eine ethnologische Studie (Stuttgart, 1882), p. 137.

<p>351</p>

At Cnossus in Crete, Diodorus, v. 72; at Samos, Lactantius, Instit. i. 17; at Athens, Photius, sv. ἱερὸν γάμον; Etymolog. Magn. sv. ἱερομνήμονες, p. 468. 52.

<p>352</p>

Iliad, xiv. 347 sqq.

<p>353</p>

Demosthenes, Neaer. § 73 sqq. p. 1369 sq.; Hesychius, svv. Διονύσου γάμος and γεραραί; Etymol. Magn. sv. γεραῖραι; Pollux, viii. 108; Aug. Mommsen, Heortologie, p. 357 sqq.; Hermann, Gottesdienstliche Alterthümer,2 § 32. 15, § 58. 11 sqq.

<p>354</p>

Above, p. 7.

<p>355</p>

Above, p. 94.

<p>356</p>

Above, p. 95 sq.

<p>357</p>

Preller, Griech. Mythol.3 i. 559.

<p>358</p>

Hyginus, Astronomica, i. 5.

<p>359</p>

Servius on Virgil, Georg. iii. 332, nam, ut diximus, et omnis quercus Jovi est consecrata, et omnis lucus Dianae.

<p>360</p>

Roscher's Lexikon d. Griech. u. Röm. Mythologie, c. 1005.

<p>361</p>

See above, p. 4. For Diana in this character, see Roscher, op. cit. c. 1007.

<p>362</p>

Roscher, c. 1006 sq.

<p>363</p>

Castren, Finnische Mythologie, p. 97.

<p>364</p>

Mathias Michov, “De Sarmatia Asiana atque Europea,” in Novus Orbis regionum ac insularum veteribus incognitarum, p. 457.