The Horned God of the Witches Read online

  Antlers and Prehistory

  Most artifacts, especially ones dealing with what we assume is some sort of spirituality, could have a wide variety of meanings. One archaeologist commented on ancient history by saying, “We [archaeologists] have decided what is male and female, or sacred and profane … rather than knowing what the original inhabitants intended and in that sense it will always be our fiction.” 13 In other words, there are multiple ways to interpret the past, and in nearly every case, what we find in books like this one are best guesses.

  When I think of ancient people such as the ones who used the caves at Trois-Frères or lived and died in the Swabian Jura mountain range 28,000 years ago, I imagine them hunting; more specifically, I imagine them hunting animals with antlers or horns on top of their heads. Bison and deer were not just sources for a meat dinner, but also provided raw materials for clothing, shelter, and tools. It would be strange to me if horns weren’t revered by ancient people, considering how important those sorts of animals were to preserving life.

  Horns and antlers are also archetypal images. When people see a pair of horns or antlers on top of a human head, it immediately conjures up all sorts of visceral emotions. For Witches, those emotions are most likely positive, but in much of society, those feelings are extremely negative. The sight of horns implies devil worship, sinister actions, and at the very least that someone is a villain or at least worthy of mockery. In fantasy films, antagonists are often portrayed with a horned helm or sport a fancy pair of antlers on top of their head. None of this is by accident, as antlers and horns stir our emotions. Our most ancient ancestors were probably more like us, seeing horns and antlers as beneficial, but sadly, our world has changed a lot since then.

  Modern human beings may not have even been the first people on this planet to revere antlers or horns. There’s evidence to suggest that our Neanderthal ancestors might have done so first. Neanderthals could have (I say “could have” because there is a lot of disagreement on this issue) begun burying their dead over 400,000 years ago, and at least two of those burials have connections to horned and antlered animals. Discovered in 1938, the Neanderthal skeleton unearthed at Teshik-Tash Cave in Uzbekistan is that of an adolescent child, whose body was surrounded by a circle of goat horns, all placed downward into the soil around the corpse.14 What this means exactly is anyone’s guess. A circle around a grave is a rather symbolic gesture, so I have to assume the placement of the horns had some spiritual meaning to those who chose that arrangement.

  At Amud Cave in northern Israel, the body of a ten-month-old infant was placed in a difficult-to-access cave niche, most likely a deliberate burial. Over the child’s pelvis was the jaw of a red deer.15 Given the location of the discovery, it’s hard to imagine the baby simply crawling away from its parents, grabbing a deer bone, and then crawling away to die. Again, there’s no way of interpreting the meaning behind these remains with absolute certainty, but burial with an object suggests some sort of belief in an afterlife.

  Northern Israel was also the home of the first human burials 92,000 years ago. So far, the remains of twenty-seven people have been found at Israel’s Qafzeh cave, and in one of those burials a pair of antlers was interred with one of the dead. The individual buried with the antlers was most likely between the ages of twelve and thirteen and had apparently suffered some sort of head trauma eight years earlier.16 What makes this discovery especially interesting is what can be inferred from the antlers. Perhaps they were left with the young person to suggest a rebirth, just as the antlers of deer are shed and regrown annually.

  Over the millennia, more and more grave goods began to be interred with buried humans. Often those items were made of ivory, bone, antler, and amber, and served no practical purpose, meaning they were created primarily for their aesthetic or spiritual properties.17 Grave goods suggest a belief in the afterlife, as items are often buried with the dead to assist them in their new state of existence.

  First turning up in the archaeological record 40,000 years ago and peaking between 15,0000 and 10,000 years ago were a series of wands, or bâtons, made out of reindeer antlers. Originally believed to be symbols of authority, these wands are now believed to be spear (and arrow) straighteners or instruments to throw spears.18 What makes these tools so interesting is that many of them are decorated with animals and abstract symbols such as spirals. The symbols suggest the use of magick, and animals on them could represent the idea of “like attracts like,” since spears were used for hunting.

  A more elaborate use of antlers was discovered in the form of a headdress at Star Carr, a cave in England located near modern-day Yorkshire. Dating back 10,000 years, the headdresses from Star Carr were fashioned from red deer skulls with the antlers still attached. The skulls were modified in such a way that they could easily fit on the head of a person, with eye holes carved into the skulls. The antlers on the skulls were also trimmed down to make the headdresses lighter and more manageable for the wearer.19

  Starr Car is not the only site in Europe where deer skull headwear was popular. Three sites in Germany (Bedburg-Königshoven, Berlin-Biesdorf, and Hohen Viecheln) have turned up similar findings. However, the headdresses discovered in Germany are not completely consistent with the ones discovered at Star Carr. The headdresses discovered at Bedburg-Königshoven, for example, utilize different parts of the skull, and the antlers on them have not been significantly altered.20

  There’s no way to know for sure what these headdresses were used for. They could have been used for some sort of hunting magick or perhaps as a way for hunters to sneak up on deer. It is interesting just how much these headdresses resemble the traditional dress of Asian shamans. Both Lapp and Siberian shamans have been pictured with antlers atop their head, and it’s most certainly possible that the headwear from Star Carr was used by individuals who served a similar purpose in society.21

  The Birth of Cities and the Rise of Deities

  The exact origins of deity are hard to pin down. Was the first goddess the Venus of Willendorf from 30,000 years ago? Was the first god the Sorcerer from Trois-Frères? What is not hard to imagine is a shaman wearing headwear like the kind from Star Carr inspiring worship of a horned god. Simply picturing such a figure dancing in the light of a campfire fills me with awe and wonder.

  Five hundred years after the antlered headdresses of Star Carr, the first cities began to emerge. It’s in cities where we really begin to see the development of spiritual concepts and deities. In some of those early cities, horned imagery played a major role in the lives of the people of who lived there. One of the more notable of these early cities is Çatalhöyük, located in modern-day Turkey and settled 9,500 years ago. Çatalhöyük was not the largest early settlement, but its imagery would eventually resonate throughout the Mediterranean.

  Instead of antlers, the primary imagery at Çatalhöyük was centered on the horns of the bull. Çatalhöyük is home to hundreds of elaborate buildings, with many of them featuring enormous bull heads and horns on pedestals and walls.22 In addition to the bull heads and horns, Çatalhöyük was also home to goddess statues, generally depicting a voluptuous woman sitting between two lions. For many years, the imagery found at Çatalhöyük was interpreted to mean that the people there worshipped a Mother Goddess and her son, who took the form of a bull.23

  While the Mother Goddess hypothesis has held up over time, the idea that the bull imagery of Çatalhöyük suggests a bull god has changed. Many modern archaeologists now believe that the city’s bull imagery either represents some sort of ancestor worship or was used to commemorate certain events that the city’s citizens wanted to remember.24 That brings up the question, why use bulls to remember certain events or ancestors?

  When we think about bulls today, we tend to think of bull fighting or perhaps the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. What we tend not to dwell on is how powerful bulls are and how dangerous they were in the ancient world. Bulls were an i
mportant source of meat, but they also appealed to warriors because of their violence and strength.25 Bulls were also seen as powerful examples of male virility. Eight thousand years ago, bulls were not yet domesticated and ran wild and free, their freedom perhaps making them even more worthy of idolization.

  Bull imagery was so prevalent throughout the Mediterranean from 8800 to 6500 BCE that the period is sometimes referred to as the “Culture of the Bull.” 26 Even today, it’s impossible to escape just how important bulls were in early societies. The letter A actually represents the head of a bull! 27 Various deities across the centuries have been depicted with the horns and face of a bull, and many more have taken the form of a bull while on Earth.

  Contemporary with Çatalhöyük are the Sumerian cities of Eridu, Uruk, and Ur. Larger than even Çatalhöyük, they are often thought of as the world’s first true cities. Located in Mesopotamia, these early cities are all considered Sumerian, and not surprisingly, Sumerian mythology also features several bull-related deities. The protective deity Lamassu was often pictured with a human head and the body of a bull. Lamassu’s gender was variable, and appeared both female and male. The storm god Hadad, found among the Canaanites, was often depicted with four bull horns on top of his head and descended directly from the Sumerian storm god Iškur.

  The most well-known piece of Sumerian mythology is the Epic of Gilgamesh, which contains even more bull energy. Gilgamesh’s companion (and, most likely, lover) Enkidu is portrayed in the epic as a “wild man,” and in my head I often picture him as looking like the European wild-man of lore, who was often depicted as something like the modern-day Sasquatch. Enkidu was not apelike at all, though, and was often pictured with the head and horns of a bull! Later in the story, Gilgamesh and Enkidu kill a bull sent by the gods to destroy them after Gilgamesh rejected the advances of the goddess Ishtar.

  The Egyptian goddess Hathor (or Athyr to the Greeks) was often depicted as a cow or as a human with a cow’s head. In human form, she was often crowned with the horns of a bull.28 Hathor was not the only deity in ancient Egypt to utilize the symbolism of the bull. Gods such as Ra and Osiris were believed to visit the earth in the form of a bull. Solar deities such as Ra (who sometimes had the face of a ram, another horned animal) and Atum also had bulls in their mythology and worship. Ra’s four-horned bull guarded the roads of heaven, and priests believed they could speak with Atum through a bull.29 Worship of the bull god Apis arose from honors given to a sacred bull thought to be the son of Hathor.

  The Palace at Knossos located on the Greek island of Crete is well known for its bull imagery. It’s on Crete where we find beautiful frescoes where acrobats seem to perform amazing feats of agility over charging bulls. Crete was also home to striking rhytons (ceremonial chalices) in the shapes of bulls and bull heads. A rhyton appears to look more like a sculpture than a working tool, but on ancient Crete it was used for the pouring of libations after animal sacrifice.

  Crete was also home to the fearsome Minotaur, who had the head of a bull. The Minotaur could have evolved from the images at Knossos and might be the remnant of a lost local deity. In later Greek mythology, the Minotaur was the son of the Cretan Queen Pasiphaë and a beautiful bull given to Pasiphaë and her husband, King Minos, by the sea god Poseidon.

  Just as it did in Crete, the bull played a large role in the later religion of the Greeks. Gods such as Zeus, Dionysus, and Poseidon took the form of a bull when visiting Earth, especially when coupling with human females. The Mysteries of Eleusis, sacred to Demeter and Persephone (and to some small extent Dionysus), ended with the sacrifice of a bull, both as a thank-you to the gods and as a main course for the feasting post-ritual.

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  10. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 154.

  11. Amos, “Ancient Phallus Unearthed in Cave.”

  12. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 153.

  13. Lynn Meskell, quoted in Balter, The Goddess and the Bull, 321.

  14. Gargett et al., “Grave Shortcomings: The Evidence for Neandertal Burial [and Comments and Reply].” I should point out that Gargett doesn’t share my enthusiasm for this burial being deliberate. You might have guessed as much from the title.

  15. Riel-Salvatore and Clark, “Grave Markers.”

  16. Hirst, “Qafzeh Cave, Israel: Evidence for Middle Paleolithic Burials.”

  17. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 130.

  18. Don’s Maps, “Tools from the Stone Age.”

  19. This information comes from the placard of the Star Carr headdress at the British Museum in London.

  20. Elliot, Knight, and Little, “Antler Frontlets.”

  21. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 49.

  22. Balter, The Goddess and the Bull, 39.

  23. Balter, The Goddess and the Bull, 39.

  24. Balter, The Goddess and the Bull, 324.

  25. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 201.

  26. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 201.

  27. Hayden, Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints, 237.

  28. Barrett, The Egyptian Gods & Goddesses, 59.

  29. Barrett, The Egyptian Gods & Goddesses, 144.

  Chapter Five

  Pan and the Other

  Horned Gods of Ancient Greece

  I first met the Greek god Pan in the pages of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths when I was in the first grade. Greek myth, which is full of incest, adultery, and rape, is hard to pull off in a children’s book, but D’Aulaires’ mostly succeeds (though as an adult I tend to laugh when Zeus’s many adulterous lovers are introduced as his additional “wives”). The Pan introduced in D’Aulaires’ is the god that most of us are familiar with today:

  He had goat’s legs, pointed ears, a pair of small horns, and he was covered all over with dark, shaggy hair. He was so ugly that his mother, a nymph, ran away screaming when she first saw him. But his father, Hermes, was delighted with the strange looks of his son. He carried him up to Olympus to amuse the other gods and they all laughed and took him to their hearts. They called him Pan and sent him back to the dark woods and stony hills of Greece as the great god of nature. He was to be the protector of hunters, shepherds, and curly-fleeced sheep.30

  For most of my adolescence and early adult life, I paid very little attention to Pan. My interest in Greek mythology generally revolved around heroes like Hercules, Perseus, and, not surprisingly, Jason and his Argonauts. When I did think about deities, it was usually about powerful gods such as Zeus and Apollo, or Aphrodite, who I hoped would bring my angsty teenage self a girlfriend. Pan seemed friendly enough, at least in the sanitized myths I was reading, but I didn’t give him much thought.

  Surprisingly, both Pan and the Horned God were absent from my early years as a Witch. Back then, my focus was almost entirely on the Goddess (and only the one “Goddess”), the moon, and magick. On the rare occasions that I called a male god into my circle, I called to the Lord of the Sun, and envisioned him as a young Apollo, and there were most certainly no horns on the top of his head. When reading books on Witchcraft, I tended to skip over the sections dealing with the Horned God out of fear. I wanted nothing to do with him.

  But eventually I began to feel a yearning inside to honor the Greek Pan. He came up in nearly everything I read and was a frequent visitor in college mythology and literature classes. The bushes near the front door of my house also seemed to contain his energy. It sounds silly to write, but I swear there were days when I could see him grinning at me in those shrubby bushes, imploring me to acknowledge him.

  He finally broke through my defenses at an Ostara (Spring Equinox) ritual after several years of trying to fend him off. In the middle of that ritual, I screamed “Pan!” and felt his energy wa
sh over me. He had heard my call, and I his, and my life would never be the same again. He’s primarily why you are currently holding this book in your hands (Figure 3).

  Pan and Arcadia

  Most of us know Pan as a Greek god, but it’s probably more accurate to say that he’s an Arcadian-Greek god. Arcadia is a relatively isolated area of Greece, located east of Athens, on the central Peloponnese, a peninsula just south of mainland Greece. Arcadia is landlocked and mostly consists of rocky hills and mountains. It is not an agricultural area nor the home of great city-states like Thebes or Sparta.

  Figure 3: Pan.

  A rather subdued and unaroused Pan teaches

  the shepherd Daphnis how to play the panpipes.

  The ancient Greeks and later the Romans both romanticized Arcadia. It was thought of as a primitive paradise, a land that was “older than Jupiter [the god] and the moon,” and its first inhabitants were believed to have “preceded the moon.” 31 Arcadia was the land of the first Greeks, the perfect place for a god who was unlike any other Olympian deity.

  Pan’s association with Arcadia was so strong in the ancient world that Arcadia was sometimes called Pania in his honor. In Arcadia, Pan was the most important of all the gods, save Zeus, and for several centuries was exclusively worshipped there.32 In 490 BCE, Pan’s worship spread to the city-state of Athens, and from there to the rest of the Greek-speaking world. Five hundred years later, worship of Pan had spread throughout the Roman Empire, from India to Gaul (modern-day France).