The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

WHAT ARE THE SEVEN GIFTS OF DRUIDRY?
04:32 Feb 24 2006
Times Read: 682












Today our biggest problem is that we have separated ourselves from Nature - so much that there is a risk we may not survive as a species. We need philosophies, spiritualities, ideas, that can help us get back in touch with Nature again - our spirituality must become ecological. Prince Philip, in a speech to a Washington conference on religion and ecology controversially pointed to the direction in which we should look, when he said: "It is now apparent that the ecological pragmatism of the so-called pagan religions...was a great deal more realistic in terms of conservation ethics than the more intellectual monotheistic philosophies of the revealed religions."



It now seems that the Old Ways, reinterpreted for our times, can offer us the kind of spirituality that we need to heal the separation that has occurred between ourselves and our environment. Druidry is one such Way, and although at first sight it might appear to be just an old curiosity, a quaint memory from the distant past, if we take the time to look at it more closely, we will discover a treasure-chest just waiting to be opened. And in this chest we can find at least seven gifts that Druidry brings to our modern world:



The first gift is a Philosophy:which emphasizes the sacredness of all life, and our part in the great web of creation. It cares passionately about the preservation and protection of the environment, and offers a worldview, which is ecological, geocentric, pragmatic, idealistic, spiritual and romantic. It does not separate Spirit and Matter - it offers a sensuous spirituality that celebrates physical life.



The second gift puts us back in touch with Nature: with a set of practices that help us feel at one again with Nature, our ancestors, our own bodies, and our sense of Spirit, by working with plants, trees, animals, stones, and ancestral stories. Eight seasonal celebrations help us attune to the natural cycle, and help us to structure our lives through the year, and to develop a sense of community with all living beings.



The third gift brings Healing: with practices that promote healing and rejuvenation, using spiritual and physical methods in a holistic way to promote health and longevity.



The fourth gift affirms our life as a Journey: with rites of passage: for the blessing and naming of children, for marriage, for death, and for other times of initiation, when it is helpful to ritually and symbolically mark our passage from one state to another.



The fifth gift opens us to other Realities: with techniques for exploring other states of consciousness, other realities, the Otherworld. Some of these are also used by other spiritual traditions, and include meditation, visualization, shamanic journeying, and the use of ceremony, music, chanting and sweathouses, but they are all grounded in specifically Celtic and Druidic imagery and tradition.



The sixth gift develops our Potential: Druidry as it is practiced today offers a path of self-development that encourages our creative potential, our psychic and intuitive abilities, and fosters our intellectual and spiritual growth.



The seventh gift of Druidry is the gift of Magic: it teaches the art of how we can open to the magic of being alive, the art of how we can bring ideas into manifestation, and the art of journeying in quest of wisdom, healing and inspiration.

Death
02:36 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 686

He was old. He felt old. His body did not work right anymore, and he was always tired. His eyes were rheumy, and there were pains in his joints that woke him in the cold night time. One night, as he slept, a soft white light filled his hut. He looked up, and saw the most beautiful Lady he had ever seen standing in the room.



"Who are you?" he whispered.



"Death," She answered, quietly.



"Death?" His reply was confused.



"I never thought Death would be so beautiful! We have always pictured you as some kind of spectre of fear."



The Lady smiled. "You only fear Death because you do not remember it. Just as you fear Life, because you do not remember it. Come. Walk with me, and be at peace."



He got out of the straw bed, and walked to Her. She took his hand, and he looked back at the bed. He saw his body, laying there. Still and unmoving. Dead.



"It's quite a shock, isn't it?" Her voice was calm.



"Am I .... dead?"



"Most assuredly so. Come."



They walked out of the cottage, hand in hand, and he noticed that they were not walking through the streets of the village where he had lived.



"Where are we?"



"You'll see in a moment. Wait."



"Am I bound for Hell?" he asked.



She stopped, and looked him in the eyes.



"There is no Hell. You have lived as most humans do, loving, hating, being loved and being hated. You did the best you could with the Light you had to see by. You have learned much, and earned much."



Her voice was low, but filled with a vibrancy that touched his very soul.



They continued a little way down a hill, and then turned a corner, or something very much like it, and he saw, and heard the laughter.



"Is it Heaven? What is it? It's beautiful!"



"This is the Summerland. Here you will rest a while, and play, and perhaps meet old playmates again and discuss your Game, and ways to improve It. It is time for you to remember all your lives."



She reached up, and softly touched him on the forehead.



"Now remember."



And he did.

The Lady of the Lake
02:28 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 689

HIGH up in a hollow of the Black Mountains of South Wales is a lonely sheet of water called Llyn y Fan Fach.



In a farm not far from this lake there lived in the olden time a widow, with an only son whose name was Gwyn. When this son grew up, he was often sent by his mother to look after the cattle grazing. The place where the sweetest food was to be found was near the lake, and it was thither that the mild-eyed beasts wandered whenever they had their will. One day when Gwyn was walking along the banks of the mere, watching the kine cropping the short grass, he was astonished to see a lady standing in the clear smooth water, some distance from the land.



She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever set eyes upon, and she was combing her long hair with a golden comb, the unruffled surface of the lake serving her as a mirror.



He stood on the brink, gazing fixedly at the maiden, and straightway knew that he loved her. As he gazed, he unconsciously held out to her the barley-bread and cheese which his mother had given him before he left home. The lady gradually glided towards him, but shook her head as he continued to hold out his hand, and saying:



Cras dy fara, O thou of the crimped bread,

Nid hawdd fy nala, It is not easy to catch me,



she dived under the water, and disappeared from his sight.



He went home, full of sorrow, and told his mother of the beautiful vision which he had seen. As they pondered over the strange words used by the mysterious lady before she plunged out of sight, they came to the conclusion that there must have been some spell connected with the hard-baked bread, and the mother advised her son to take with him some "toes," or unbaked dough, when next he went to the lake.



Next morning, long before the sun appeared above the crest of the mountain, Gwyn was by the lake with the dough in his hand, anxiously waiting for the Lady of the Lake to appear above the surface. The sun rose, scattering with his powerful beams the mists which veiled the high ridges around, and mounted high in the heavens. Hour after hour the youth watched the waters, but hour after hour there was nothing to be seen except the ripples raised by the breeze and the sunbeams dancing upon them. By the late afternoon despair had crept over the watcher, and he was on the point of turning his footsteps homeward when to his intense delight the lady again appeared above the sunlit ripples. She seemed even more beautiful than before, and Gwyn, forgetting in admiration of her fairness all that he had carefully prepared to say, could only hold out his hand, offering to her the dough. She refused the gift with a shake of the head as before, adding the words:



Llaith dy fara, O thou of the moist bread,

Ti ni fynna. I will not have thee.



Then she vanished under the water, but before she sank out of sight, she smiled upon the youth so sweetly and so graciously that his heart became fuller than ever of love. As he walked home slowly and sadly, the remembrance of her smile consoled him and awakened the hope that when next she appeared she would not refuse his gift. He told his mother what had happened, and she advised him, inasmuch as the lady had refused both hard-baked and unbaked bread, to take with him next time bread that was half-baked.



That night he did not sleep a wink, and long before the first twilight he was walking the margin of the lake with half-baked bread in his hand, watching its smooth surface even more impatiently than the day before.



The sun rose and the rain came, but the youth. heeded nothing as he eagerly strained his gaze over the water. Morning wore to afternoon, and afternoon to evening, but nothing met the eyes of the anxious watcher but the waves and the myriad dimples made in them by the rain.



The shades of night began to fall, and Gwyn was about to depart in sore disappointment, when, casting a last farewell look over the lake, he beheld some cows walking on its surface. The sight of these beasts made him hope that they would be followed by the Lady of the Lake, and, sure enough, before long the maiden emerged from the water. She seemed lovelier than ever, and Gwyn was almost beside himself with joy at her appearance. His rapture increased when he saw that she was gradually approaching the land, and he rushed into the water to meet her, holding out the half-baked bread in his hand. She, smiling, took his gift, and allowed him to lead her to dry land. Her beauty dazzled him, and for some time he could do nothing but gaze upon her. And as he gazed upon her he saw that the sandal on her right foot was tied in a peculiar manner. She smiled so graciously upon him that he at last recovered his speech and said, "Lady, I love you more than all the world besides and want you to be my wife."



She would not consent at first. He pleaded, however, so earnestly that she at last promised to be his bride, but only on the following condition. "I will wed you," she said, "and I will live with you until I receive from you three blows without a cause--tri ergyd diachos. When you strike me the third causeless blow I will leave you for ever."



He was protesting that he would rather cut off his hand than employ it in such a way, when she suddenly darted from him and dived into the lake. His grief and disappointment was so sore that he determined to put an end to his life by casting himself headlong into the deepest water of the lake. He rushed to the top of a great rock overhanging the water, and was on the point of jumping in when he heard a loud voice saying, "Forbear, rash youth, and come hither."



He turned and beheld on the shore of the lake some distance from the rock a hoary-headed old man of majestic mien, accompanied by two maidens. He descended from the rock in fear and trembling, and the old man addressed him in comforting accents.



"Mortal, thou wishest to wed one of these my daughters. I will consent to the union if thou wilt point out to me the one thou lovest."



Gwyn gazed upon the two maidens, but they were so exactly similar in stature, apparel and beauty that he could not see the slightest difference between them. They were such perfect counterparts of each other that it seemed quite impossible to say which of them had promised to be his bride, and the thought that if perchance he fixed upon the wrong one all would be for ever lost nearly drove him to distraction. He was almost giving up the task in despair when one of the two maidens very quietly thrust her foot slightly forward. The motion, simple as it was, did not escape the attention of the youth, and looking down he saw the peculiar shoe-tie which he had observed on the sandal of the maiden who had accepted his half-baked bread. He went forward and boldly took hold of her hand.



"Thou hast chosen rightly," said the old man, "be to her a kind and loving husband, and I will give her as a dowry as many sheep, cattle; goats, swine and horses as she can count of each without drawing in her breath. But remember, if thou strikest her three causeless blows, she shall return to me."



Gwyn was overjoyed, and again protested that he would rather lop off all his limbs than do such a thing. The old man smiled, and turning to his daughter desired her to count the number of sheep she wished to have. She began to count by fives--one, two, three, four, five--one, two, three, four, five--one, two, three, four, five--as many times as she could until her breath was exhausted. In an instant as many sheep as she had counted emerged from the water. Then the father asked her to count the cattle she desired. One, two, three, four, five--one, two, three, four, five--one, two, three, four, five--she went on counting until she had to draw in her breath again. Without delay, black cattle to the number she had been able to reach came, lowing out of the mere. In the same way she counted the goats, swine and horses she wanted, and the full tale of each kind ranged themselves alongside the sheep and cattle. Then the old man and his other daughter vanished.



The Lady of the Lake and Gwyn were married amid great rejoicing, and took up their home at a farm named Esgair Llaethdy, where they lived for many years. They were as happy as happy can be, everything prospered with them, and three sons were born to them.



When the eldest boy was seven years old, there was a wedding some distance away, to which Nelferch--for that was the name the Lady of the Lake gave herself--and her husband were specially invited. When the day came, the two started and were walking through a field in which some of their horses were grazing, when Nelferch said that the distance was too great for her to walk and she would rather not go. "We must go," said her husband, "and if you do not like to walk, you can ride one of these horses. Do you catch one of them while I go back to the house for the saddle and bridle."



"I will," she said. "At the same time bring me my gloves. I have forgotten them--they are on the table."



He went back to the house, and when he returned with the saddle and bridle and gloves, he found to his surprise that she had not stirred from the spot where he had left her. Pointing to the horses, he playfully flicked her with the gloves and said, "Go, go (dos, dos)."



"This is the first causeless blow," she said with a sigh, and reminded him of the condition upon which she had married him, a condition which he had almost forgotten.



Many years after, they were both at a christening. When all the guests were full of mirth and hilarity, Nelferch suddenly burst into tears and sobbed piteously. Gwyn tapped her on the shoulder and asked her why she wept. "I weep," she said, "because this poor innocent babe is so weak and frail that it will have no joy in this world. Pain and suffering will fill all the days of its brief stay on earth, and in the agony of torture will it depart this life. And, husband, thou hast struck me the second causeless blow."



After this, Gwyn was on his guard day and night not to do anything which could be regarded as a breach of their marriage covenant. He was so happy in the love of Nellerch and his children that he knew his heart would break if through some accident he gave the last and only blow which would take his dear wife from him. Some time after, the babe whose christening they had attended, after a short life of pain and suffering, died in agony, as Nelferch had foretold. Gwyn and the Lady of the Lake went to the funeral, and in the midst of the mourning and grief, Nelferch laughed merrily, causing all to stare at her in astonishment. Her husband was so shocked at her high spirits on so sad an occasion, that he touched her, saying, "Hush, wife, why dost thou laugh?"



"I laugh," she replied, "because the poor babe is at last happy and free from pain and suffering." Then rising she said, "The last blow has been struck. Farewell."



She started off immediately towards Esgair Llaethdy, and when she arrived home, she called her cattle and other stock together, each by name. The cattle she called thus:



Mu wlfrech, moelfrech, Brindled cow, bold freckled,

Mu olfrech, gwynfrech, Spotted cow, white speckled;

Pedair cae tonn-frech, Ye four field sward mottled.

Yr hen wynebwen, The old white-faced,

A'r las Geigen, And the grey Geigen

Gyda'r tarw gwyn With the white bull

O lys y Brenin, From the court of the King,

A'r llo du bach, And thou little black calf,

Sydd ar y bach, Suspended on the hook,

Dere dithe, yn iach adre! Come thou also, whole again, home.



They all immediately obeyed the summons of their mistress. The little black calf, although it had been killed, came to life again, and descending from the hook, walked off with the rest of the cattle, sheep, goats, swine and horses at the command of the Lady of the Lake.



It was the spring of the year, and there were four oxen ploughing in one of the fields. To these she cried:



Y pedwar eidion glas, Ye four grey oxen,

Sydd ar y ma's, That are on the field,

Deuweh chwithe Come you also

Yn iach adre! Whole and well home!



Away went the whole of the live stock with the Lady across the mountain to the lake from whence they had come, and disappeared beneath its waters. The only trace they left was the furrow made by the plough which the oxen drew after them into the lake; this remains to this day.



Gwyn's heart was broken. He followed his wife to the lake, crushed with woe, and put an end to his misery by plunging into the depths of the cold water. The three sons distracted with grief, almost followed their father's example, and spent most of their days wandering about the lake in the hope of seeing their lost mother once more. Their love was at last rewarded, for one day Nelferch appeared suddenly to them.



She told them that their mission on earth was to relieve the pain and misery of mankind. She took them to a place which is still called the Physician's Dingle (Pant y Meddygon), where she showed them the virtues of the plants and herbs which grew there, and taught them the art of healing.



Profiting by their mother's instruction, they became the most skilful physicians in the land. Rhys Grug, Lord of Llandovery and Dynevor Castles, gave them rank, lands and privileges at Myddfai for their maintenance in the practice of their art and for the healing and benefit of those who should seek their help. The fame of the Physicians of Myddfai was established' over the whole of Wales, and continued for centuries among their descendants.

Old Salem Witch Jail
02:19 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 690

The Old Salem Witch Jail that housed accused people during the Salem witch trial hysteria of 1692-93 was a filthy rat infested dungeon located close to the north river. The Old Salem Witch Jail was used to house criminals who were generally waiting to be executed.



Construction of the dungeon was approved by the town of Salem in 1683. The constuction of the Old Salem Witch jail was completed in 1684, and was constructed of hand hewn oak timbers and siding, and was 70 by 280 feet. There were no bars for strangely puritan prisoners accepted their punishment. The few who did not and escaped the Old Salem Witch were generally caught and killed. Either way the end result was the same. The prisoners had to pay for their food, and were generally kept short of water so as to make them more likeley to confess.



Despite its terrible conditions the Old Salem Witch jail was a social gathering place. The Old Salem Witch jail staff sold alcohol to people who came in the night to play chess. For a bond of one pound a prisoner could gain day release to visit family but had to return at night.



The jailers stripped the women so as to examine and prick them in search of witches marks. Both the women and their family members were tortured for confessions. Many of the victims died in jail. The family then had to pay to have the body removed.



The saleries of the magistrate, sheriff, hangman and other staff had to be paid by the accused. The prisoners were also billed for the fetters, chains and cuffs. Fees were also charged for being searched for witches markes. People with money were somtimes able to bribe their way out.



Victims were taken from the Old Salem Witch jail by oxcart to the gallows hill. Their dead bodies left swaying from the branches of the locust trees could be seen from the centre of the town.



Eventually with the end of the witch hysteria the Old Salem Witch jail was closed and sold into private hands and used as a residence. In 1863 it was purshased by Abner Goodell the state historian. In response to the public the Goodells opened the Old Salem Witch jail to the public in 1935

Salem Witch Trials
02:16 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 691

The Salem Witch Trials hysteria occured in Salem, Massachusetts between 1692 to 1693. A total of 141 people were arrested, 19 were hanged and one was crushed to death during the Salem Witch Trials.



The beginning of the Salem Witch Trials can probably be traced to Rev. Samual Parris who before becoming a minister worked as a merchant in Barbados. Upon his return to Massachusetts he brought back two slaves.



One of the slaves "Tituba" cared for his nine year old daughter "Elizabeth" called Betty and his 11 year old niece "Abigal". Tituba passed on stories to the girls about voodoo.



The girls were fascinated with voodoo and soon started playing with it. They were soon joined by other girls in the village and started telling each others fortune.



One of their methods was to float an egg white in a glass of water and predict their future husbands. For reasons that no one is sure the girls started having fits, making strange noises and contorting their bodies.



It is hard to say whether the girls believed they were possessed or whether the whole thing started as an act which got out of control. It is my opinion it was an act which got beyond the girls control and was fuelled by fanatical adults.



Rev. Parris brought in Dr. William Griggs who could diagnos no medical condition for the girls so he diagnosed bewitchment. The 17th century Puritans believed in witchcraft as a cause of sickness and death.



Because they believed that witches gained their power from the Devil it was decided to find the witches responsible and kill them. The girls were then placed under enormous pressure to name names.



Rather then admit to what probably started out as a game the girls were caught up in a wave of religeous fanatiscm. The first accused in the Salem Witch Trials were the slave Tituba, Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne.



Warrants for their arrest were issued and the Salem Witch Trials had started. All three appeared in the house of Nathaniel Ingersoll before Salem Town Magistates John Hawthorne and Jonathan Corwin.



As each women stood to testify in the Salem Witch Trials, the girls fell into fits claiming the womans specter was biting them, pinching them and roaming the room appearing as a animal or bird. After being beaten earlier and under pressure the slave Tituba admitted to being a witch.



She stated that a black dog had threatened her and ordered her to hurt the girls. She also said that she had ridden through the air on a pole to witches meetings with the other two accused.



Tituba then claimed that there were more witches, about six in number, led by a tall, white haired man. All three women were taken to a prison in Boston.



Goode and Osborne were put in heavy iron chains, with Osborne dying there.



An all out hunt began for more witches for the salem witch trials. The girls were placed under more pressure to name more witches for the salem witch trials.



Ann Putman Jr. with the help of a vengeful mother named Martha Corey. Martha Corey was a member of the Salem Village congregation.



Martha maintained her innocence in court but the girls fits of torment and anguish in court convinced the magiststes she was a witch. Even her husband testified against her.



The next woman to be named in the Salem Witch Trials was Rebecca Nurse. She was a church member and an outstanding member of the community.



By now the magistrates and everyone else believed whatever the girls said. Ann Putman Sr. was Rebeccas accuser, apparently now she had joined the ranks of the afflicted.



Following Rebecca Nurse was four year old Dorcas Good. Good, although only a child, was sent to prison and placed in chains.



The next victims of the Salem Witch Trials were the local tavern owners John and Elizabeth Proctor. They had both been vocal opponents of the Salem Witch Trials.



It seemed the girls were eager to do away with anybody who disputed them. Sarah Cloyse, the sister of Rebbecca Nurse was also named by the girls when she tried to oppose what was happening.



All three faced trial. Also arrested were Mary Warren, Giles Corey, Bridget Bishop and Abigail Hobbs.



Abigail Hobbs was already mentally unbalanced and as such was only to happy to testify that she was a witch. Instead of dismissing her as an insane person the magistrates believed every word.



Then on April 21 nine more people were arrested on the lies of Abigail Hobbs. These included Nehemiah Abbot, William and Deliverence Hobbs, Sarah and Edward Bishop, Mary Ester, Mary Black, Sarah Wilds and Mary English.



Up until now the accused had only come from the Salem area. But five of these accused were from Topsfield.



Eventually the hysteria of the Salem Witch Trials spread to 22 other communities.



For the first time however the girls recanted their accusations on one of their victims, Nehemiah Abbot. The rest were not so lucky and went to prison.



By April 30, six more people were arrested. These included Sarah Morey, Lydia Dustin, Susannah Martin, Dorcas Hoar, Philip English and Rev. George Burroughs who was eventually acquitted.



Philip English and his wife fled to Boston. They eventually returned when the Salem Witch Trials hysteria passed but in the meantime lost most of their property.



Rev. Burroughs was the minister at Salem before and had created some enemies. These included Ann Putmann Sr.



Rev. Burroughs was accused of being the coven leader. More arrests in the Salem Witch Trials followed including John Willard, Geaorge Jacobs and Margerat Jacobs.



Because Massachusetts had no formal charter all the accused had to be held in prison until a new charter was obtained. In 1692 the new governer Sir William Phips arrived with the new charter.



Governer Phips had no interest in the Salem Witch Trials hysteria and so established a Court of Oyer and Terminer to hear the Salem Witch Trials. Sitting on the Salem Witch Trials new court were Lt. Governer William Stoughton, Bartholomew Gedney, John Hathorne, Nathaniel Saltonstall, Peter Sergeant, Wait Still Winthrop, John Richards and Samual Sewall.



By the end of May almost 100 people were imprisoned on charges of being witches.



On June 2 the Salem Witch Trials court had its first sitting . The first to be tried was Bridget Bishop who was found guilty.



Chief Justice Stoughton signed her death warrant and she was hanged on June 10. The body was placed in a shallow grave on Salems Gallows Hill.



Justice Saltonstall resigned from the court and questioned the whole affair. As a result he was also accused of witchcraft.



Next to appear were Sarah Good, Rebecca Nurse and Susannah Martin. All three were eventually condemned.



The next to be convicted in the Salem Witch Trials were Sarah Wilds and Elizabeth How. During the course of the trial a Rev. Samual Willard was accused of being a witch.



But because he was friends with three of the Justices he was protected by the court. This is also an indication the Justices of the court may have known that the people who were sent to their death were also innocent.



Because of the Salem Witch Trials, the girls had become sort of celebrities in the colony. The girls now travelled to other towns in search of witches.



They went to Andover where more prominent people were named including a very smart man who turned the tables and issued a warrant for their arrest for slander. The girls quickly fled town indicating even further they were liars.



Next to be convicted from the Salem Witch Trials were John and Elizabeth Proctor, George Burroughs, John Willard, George Jacobs and Martha Carrier. Because Elizabeth Proctor was pregnant she was given a stay of execution which ended up saving her life.



They were executed on August 19 and burried on Gallows Hill. Fifeteen more people were convicted in September of which eight were executed and the other seven either escaped or were pregnant.



On September 1 Giles Corey was crushed to death by rocks when he refused to recognize the Salem Witch Trials court authority to try him.



Finally the colonys ministers took a stand against the Salem Witch Trials. The girl accusers who had gone mad with power had accused the Governers wife, Lady Phips of witchcraft.



In response on October 29, Governer Phips dissolved the Court of Oyer and Terminer. The Governer then asked the General Court to establish a Superior court to finish the business.



Juries ended up acquiting most of those accused. Only three were convicted but they were reprieved by the Governer.



The Salem Witch Trials hysteria was finally over. Those who had participated in the hysteria including the accusers, clergy and magistrates all suffered from illness or problems in the following years.



In 1703 the Massachusetts colonial legislature began granting retroactive amnesties to the convicted and executed during the Salem Witch Trials.

History of Marie Laveau
02:14 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 692

The most noted Queen of Voodoo was Marie Laveau. She was born in 1783, to Marguerite Darcantel, a slave from Haiti and mistress of a wealthy plantation owner, a Frenchman, Charles Laveau. In the 1700 & 1800's, French aristocratic men often took women of color as mistresses in a custom called placage. In the placage arrangement, children of the union had right of heir ship and bore the father's name. No doubt in this sort of arrangement, the children would also be reared in their fathers' religion, Catholicism. Marie was raised in her father's plantation. She was educated and studied to be a hairdresser. She was a devout Catholic, who went to mass everyday of her life. She was a dark skinned woman with long black hair that she frequently wore in a single braid making her look much like an Indian or a Gypsy, probably adding to her mystique.



In 1819, she married Jacques Paris, a native of Santo Domingo. Her father gave her property in the French Quarter when she married. She was married in St. Louis Cathedral. A short time later, her husband was killed and she was to be referred to as the "Widow Paris." There is no documentation on his death. It is suspected that he possibly left her. Rather than losing respect in the community, she insisted that she was a widow. She later became mistress to Christophe Glapion with whom she had numerous children. Some accounts speak of her having as many as 15 children, it is believed however that she actually only had three daughters, one of which was also named Marie.



Most people believe that she rose to the heights that she did, due to her ability of being inside the homes of the aristocrats and having the opportunity to know their personal business. It is believed that she had spies amongst the servants in these homes that helped gave her insight to what was going on in their lives. I think perhaps to some degree that this may be true. But also take into consideration that Voodoo uses a lot of sympathetic magic, meaning it works on the principal of obtaining personal belongings from the one that it affects. As a hairdresser, this woman had the opportunity to obtain hair from her clients. Imagine how much power this gave her!



As a hairdresser, she also worked doing nursing. Back then, hairdressers and barbers could do minor surgical procedures, such as removing warts and moles. She could help with sore throats and minor stomach distresses as well. She would take in the sick and nurse them in her home, regardless of their race or ability to pay. She also would minister alongside Pere Antoine to prisoners on death row.



She became interested in herbal healing and studied herbs under Sanite DeDe, the city's first Voodoo Queen. No doubt Voodoo was her mother's religion. She became very interested in the Voodoo religion. In spite of her attraction to Voodoo, she never abandoned her Catholic roots. She saw similarities between the two, particularly, between the Voodoo Loas and the Saints. Both Voodoo and Catholicism having demi-gods, under one Supreme Being, each having a specific purpose. She incorporated the use of candles and Holy Water in Voodoo rituals. It was because of this "blending" of religions that the White Creole Catholics began to find Voodoo a bit more palatable. Actually, the church was conned into believing that the Voodouns had converted to Catholicism! By the 1830's, Marie Laveau was the Queen of Voodoo and Voodoo once again was practiced inside the city limits.



She retired as Queen in 1875. Although throughout her rein many a New Orleanian feared her, when she died at the age of 98 in 1881, others believed she was a saint. Her life was embodied with rumors and gossip set off by the hysteria of fear. It has only been in recent years that the public is realizing what a great humanitarian she was. She is buried in St. Louis Cemetery # 1. Thousands flock to her tomb to make wishes and leave offerings of thanks. Her tomb is covered with X's, evidence of those who have asked for wishes to be granted. Some of the X's are circled indicating that the wish had been granted. Each day grateful believers leave "offerings" of thanks for favors bestowed. Everything from flowers and Mardi Gras beads, to food or even money can be found at the site. Remains of candles that have burned down give evidence of rituals at the tomb.



Her daughter, also named Marie went on to become Voodoo Queen when her mother retired. Marie II was much more enterprising than her mother. She commercialized Voodoo. She opened up a shop on Bourbon Street. She sold herbal remedies, roots, and spells. She was best known for her love spells. Wealthy people paid well for her work.



But sometimes, things didn't always work out the way they had expected. There was once a particular aging wealthy bachelor, who had fallen in love with the daughter of a business associate. He made a deal with the associate, who was having financial problems to have his daughter's hand in marriage. The girl was young enough to be his granddaughter. In fact she swore that she would rather die than marry him! She had given her heart to a young adventurer who was exploring the West Indies in search of his fortune. She had promised to wait for him.



The father wanted to be wealthy but wanted to her also to be happy. He and his friend visited Marie II for help in arranging a wedding. Marie listened intently to their woes and agreed that the wedding would take place. She gave the girl's father some powder to place in her food every night for the next week. She also gave the older gentleman some herbs that she said would help with his impotence.



After a week had passed, the girl, pale and sick, went to her father and told him that she had changed his mind. She agreed to marry the old man. Two weeks later, the wedding was held in the Cathedral with a reception her in the Grand Ballroom. As the old man danced his young bride around the ballroom for his guests, he began to gasp for air. He swayed back and forth as his face turned red, then blue. He collapsed to the floor, dead of a heart attack.



The father was horrified and blamed himself for using Voodoo. He went to Marie II and accused her of trickery. Marie smiled and said, "There was no trick, a wedding is what you asked for and a wedding is what you got." The story of course had a happy ending.



The young woman became a very wealthy widow and eventually married the man of her choice. The moral of the story is "careful what you wish for."

The Autarchic Creed
02:06 Feb 22 2006
Times Read: 693

We of the Old Religion have our own particular compact with our deities that charges simply, "An it harm none, and do as ye will." And our gods do not despise us for being human but delight in our celebrations of life and love. We are ageless souls, only for a while within bodies - merely visitors upon this plane. We are brothers to the gods and only temporarily cousins to the ape and our lives belong to us, not to this world or to its earthly governors. We are not doomed to shame and decay; not lost; not indentured to perish with earthly manifestations; not disposed to eternal misery for any past or present lapses of courage.



Wisdom. We are as children in the school of life who must learn our lessons, on life at a time, before we graduate. Our lives span the march of time, striving upward, subordinate only to our individual probity and growth.



But in this mortal life, greedy, trivial hierophants and mundane rulers have perpetrated a fraud upon humanity. They have purloined for profit and temporal power, our legitimate heritage, and that of all society, and have substituted for it shame, despair, and fear, inventing evil deities to terrify and to constrain mankind from the exercise of his own native conscience.



Still we take our uncertain portion time and again, joining with the species on this plane, only to meet with earthly disunity and distress; only to be told by bogus, uncelestial shepherds that we are deficient and fundamentally iniquitous; constantly rebuked that our natural birthright is insubstantial or even sinful, and that we must cleave to the pious injunctions of reigning mortals, no matter how oppressive, or suffer beyond measurable time, yearning for some mythical golden glory just out of reach, but somehow never quite worthy of it.



That is the apocryphal hell and the fabled Satan; they are of mortal creation; they are now, not in some remote bye-and-bye; and those who choose to believe in them perpetuate them in this earth. But nevertheless, by sublime design, despite narrowness, folly or fear, we all, each and every one, possess this wondrous legacy: that each of us sustains a singular covenant with the cosmic, in that the soul is and ever was, one with the universe, conducting itself in concordance with the absolute. And whatever paths it may walk, or whichever faith it may follow, on sojourn at a time, each shall as a consequence of that oneness, and attuning with its destiny, eventually return on its own to its source to again be part of that totality, aAtoned, aware and unshackled.