A Handbook of Saxon Sorcery & Magic: Wyrdworking, Rune Craft, Divination & Wortcunning - Alaric Albertsson 2017
The Alchemy of Magic
Getting Started
We have discussed the tools that a practitioner might need for his or her magical work. Now let us turn our attention to the components or ingredients used in Saxon sorcery.
Before we begin, I recommend that you start thinking about where you will store these various items. Think of it as your “sorcerer’s cabinet,” although it need not be a literal cabinet. It is a good idea to keep everything together in one place, where you can find whatever you need easily. This may seem like common sense, but if it is, common sense is something that a lot of us occasionally lack. I cannot begin to describe how frustrating it is when your work is disrupted because you forgot where you stashed your powdered orris root.
Your sorcerer’s cabinet should be a place reserved exclusively for your magic items. You may want to keep your telga (wand) and mortar with your herbs, but this is not the place to put store coupons, paper clips, restaurant menus, and spare change. Only the tools and ingredients intended specifically for magic work should be kept in the sorcerer’s cabinet. Again, I am using the word cabinet loosely—what I mean is any storage space. Depending on your preference and needs, this storage space can take many forms. It could be a leather satchel or a large covered wicker basket, a desk drawer or a closet shelf. It could even be an actual cabinet.
Ideally your sorcerer’s cabinet should be a storage space that can be covered or otherwise protected. Remember the Law of Contagion mentioned in the last chapter? Covering your supplies will help shield them from potentially contrary outside influences. We are speaking of reasonable precautions. There is no need to worry excessively about outside influences, but it should be obvious that items kept by themselves will be “cleaner,” psychically, than if they are tossed carelessly among a stack of late bills, sales flyers, and old newspapers.
Jars
You will almost surely need jars or similar containers for the various ingredients used in your work. I say “almost” because I do not know what magic techniques and practices you will focus on. If most of your magic is worked through trance, bolstered perhaps with some galdorcræft (sound magic), you may not need many physical implements or ingredients. The majority of sorcerers, however, will have a variety of substances at their disposal.
There is absolutely no mundane, physical reason why you cannot keep these substances in a collection of old mayonnaise jars. But atmosphere is important for magic work. It is more difficult to focus when you are surrounded by symbols sending a message that the work at hand is worthless or in any way unimportant. I recommend new jars, purchased specifically for your work.
You can often find attractive, decorative jars at gift or import shops. I am using the word jar much as I used the word cabinet earlier. The container need not be an actual jar. A small box can serve equally well as a suitable container for salt, amber, or any powdered resin. I use a variety of containers, including a beautiful little metal box set with lapis lazuli that was given to me as a Yule gift. However, any container made of wood or metal should be used only for solid substances. Liquids can soak into wood and can leach metal.
Jars themselves can be either earthenware or glass. You may find glass preferable, as it is easier to clean thoroughly. When selecting glass jars, your best choice is colored glass. Many magical ingredients—herbs, especially—break down when exposed to heat and light. Colored glass will help filter any light reaching these ingredients, thus extending their longevity.
Purchase the smallest size jars suitable for your needs. If you use a lot of wormwood, then a larger jar is warranted, but keep in mind that oversized jars are more difficult to store and move about. Also, any containers for liquids must have tight, waterproof seals!
Labels
As important as the jars themselves are the labels that you will put on those jars. A lot of new practitioners think they do not need labels, that they will remember what the crushed dried sage looks like, and if you are one of these people, you are probably going to ignore me here. But I know from personal experience. I had to dump out more than a few mystery jars before I learned to label everything.
Trust me when I say that most herbs look like nothing more than little bits of grass after they have been dried and ground up. It can be very easy to take a pinch of southernwood when you meant to use a pinch of shepherd’s purse, especially if you are in a hurry. Errors like this are minimized when all of your jars and boxes have proper labels.
Your labels should be as attractive and inspiring as your jars. If you have lousy handwriting, consider printing your labels on a computer using a decorative font.
Now that we have discussed how to store and organize your ingredients, we will explore the substances you are likely to need at some time or another. You will not need all of these at first, and some you may never need. It is a good idea, though, to consider what magical techniques you intend to pursue, and to have the appropriate ingredients at hand.
Alliums
Herbs are considered collectively later in this chapter, but the alliums are important enough to have an entry of their own. Alliums are a family of bulbous, stalked plants notable for their protective properties. From a northern European perspective, all alliums are variations of the leek (Allium porrum). Leeks have been a source of nourishment for civilizations all over the world. They were a staple for the Sumerians, along with grains and beans. Our modern word for the leek comes from the Old English léac. The leek is notable for its thick, edible stalk. Young leeks are typically planted in trenches. These trenches are slowly filled with dirt as the leeks grow to cover and blanch the stalks (bleach by excluding light). It is this thick, white stalk that is valued in both culinary and arcane arts. Like all of the alliums, the leek has mild antibiotic properties. The leek was so prevalent in Saxon culture that the Old English word léactún, literally “leek-enclosure,” was used for any herb garden. It was assumed that leeks would be among the assortment of herbs grown.
Even if you decide not to pursue the lore of wortcunning to any extent, you would still do well to familiarize yourself with the leek and other alliums. The leek is protective. We can talk about its healing ability, but this is a book about magic, not medicine, and the early Saxons did not make a significant distinction between these anyway. From the Saxon perspective, the leek has healing properties because it protects the physical body—the lic—by driving away malevolent forces. More than this, the leek can protect against any spiritual malevolent forces. If you believe that somebody is psychically attacking you, hang leeks over your doorway and in your windows.
The common culinary onion (A. cepa) is a close relative to the leek, and was known to the Saxons as the ynneléac. This allium is cultivated all over the world as a vegetable but can be used exactly like the leek in herb magic. The difference is that the power of the onion is in the large, familiar bulb rather than in the stalk. You can cut an onion in half, or quarter it, and set the pieces in a room for its protective influence if you are ill or if you are concerned about a potential malign influence of any kind. For a longer term but lower level of protection, whole onions can be set out uncut. I set out whole onions at the start of the influenza season. Do I believe the onion is a cure for the flu? No, but I believe it can help ward off negative or malign forces that can leave me more susceptible to sicknesses.
The Old English word for garlic (A. sativum) is gárléac, and means “spear-leek.” This is an appropriate name for an especially pungent relative of the leek. Garlic is a very strong herb, both in terms of flavor and magical efficacy. Vampire legends and stories remind us of garlic’s exceptional ability to fend off hostile forces. A garlic bulb can be worn in a charm bag to ward off any kind of negativity.
Notice that all of the alliums are interchangeable with respect to their magic properties. The choice of which allium to use is primarily related to the physical form of the plant. Garlic, the most potent of the alliums listed here, is best for small charms, or braided into protective wall hangings. Leeks are best if you want a dramatic visual representation. The onion falls between these two and, from a magical perspective, it does not matter whether the bulb is white or yellow. For myself, the larger alliums are something that I usually acquire as needed, but I think it is a good idea to keep a few cloves of garlic on hand in your sorcerer’s cabinet.
Amber
Amber is considered a gemstone even though it is not a true mineral. It is a resin, a semi-solid substance produced by certain trees and hardened over time. Amber deposits are found all over the world, and amber is sacred to the goddess Fréo. It is said that her tears turn to gold when they fall on land, and turn to amber when they fall into the sea. Fréo’s magical necklace, Brísingamen, was crafted of gold and amber. As you might expect, this organic gem is favored by many Saxon women, who wear it in strands around their necks or set into rings. It is listed here because of its magical properties.
It may be that amber is a magic gem because it is sacred to Fréo, who is, of course, the mistress of magic. Or it may be that Fréo favors the stone because of its innate magical qualities. Whatever your opinion about this chicken or egg debate, amber is another substance that many wyrdworkers use. The early Saxons called it glær, which was a reference to amber’s vitreous or glassy appearance.
Amber can be included in any spell or charm to boost its efficacy. I think of it as a stone “for what ails you,” magically speaking. It is especially good for prosperity and love spells. Amber is also a good healing stone and was traditionally worn in charms to promote health.
Artemisias
The artemisias, like the alliums, are another genus of herbs that I believe are worth mentioning independent of the herb section. The modern, scientific word for this genus is the name of Artemisia, a Greek queen who was married to King Mausolus. After Mausolus’ death in 353 CE, Queen Artemisia built a tomb called the Mausoleum, which became one of the seven classic wonders of the world. In addition to her other achievements, Artemisia was a notable herbalist. (Of course this has absolutely nothing to do with the early Saxons or their magic, but I thought you should know why we call these herbs “artemisias” and why the stone buildings in cemeteries are called “mausoleums.”)
For the Saxon sorcerer, the artemisias are useful for driving away evil influences. One of these herbs, mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) is addressed directly in the Nine Herbs Charm. This charm was recorded in a tenth-century Anglo-Saxon manuscript called the Lacnunga. In the Nine Herbs Charm, mugwort is told:
Una you are called, oldest of worts,
You are mighty against the three and thirty,
You are mighty against venom and against infection,
You are mighty against the harmful things that move through the land.
Carrying a sprig of mugwort in the mouth is said to ward off tiredness. Because of its defensive qualities, the herb was often woven into protective wreaths. Trance workers often burn mugwort, however this is as much spiritual in purpose as it is magical. Mugwort, like all of the artemisias, is sacred to the god Woden.
The more aromatic wormwood (A. absinthium), as its common name suggests, was once valued for its ability to expel internal worms. Do not try this at home! Wormwood is toxic and should not be taken internally. However, an infusion of wormwood leaves is an excellent wash for repelling negative forces. The dried leaves can be set out, much like a potpourri, for the same purpose. As a side benefit, this can help repel fleas, moths, and flies.
Southernwood (A. abrotanum) is also effective at repelling insects and lice. It can be used in the same way as wormwood. Although this is not strictly a magical use, I often burn southernwood as an offering to Woden before beginning a significant magic work. There is no mystic significance for choosing southernwood over the other artemisias, it just happens to be what grows in my garden. Any artemisia is a suitable offering for Woden.
Blood
Blood is the fluid of life. It is our physical essence, the force that animates and empowers the physical body. We know this in our gut when we see the life force flowing from a wound. Young boys know this when they swear pacts of blood brotherhood. Sorcerers know this as they weave their spells. Blood is power, and no blood is more powerful than your own. Your own blood is imbued with your wód (inspiration).
Unless you are a medical professional, do not attempt to draw your own blood. Doing so could result in infection or even permanent injury. I was hesitant to mention blood at all here, but it is so very important, so primal and essential to the alchemy of magic, that I would be remiss to omit it. But there is never any need to jeopardize your health and safety.
Like many rúnwitan (rune workers), I have “blooded” a set of Anglo-Saxon runes that I use regularly. This is one very common use of blood in Saxon magic. This particular set of runes was carved from horse bone. By marking each of the runes with my own blood, I have bonded myself to them, and them to me. I have a permanent psychic connection to those runes; however, I drew the blood for this in a medically safe way, with the approval of a physician. Otherwise I would not have blooded the runes at all. As we will discuss in the next chapter, it is not necessary to mark your runes with blood.
Blood is used when sorcerers want to instill their own essence into something. We see this concept in the idea of blood brotherhood, where the two parties involved mingle their life essences. This is a central feature in many Pagan marriages in which the fleshy part of the palm at the base of the thumb, known as the “mound of Venus,” is pricked on both the wedding partners and their hands are then bound together to let their blood mingle.
When blood is used, however, the connection is always a two-way street. You are bound to whatever you have marked with your blood as surely as it is bound to you. Blood magic, even when practiced safely, should only be used when you want a two-way connection like this. There are other ways for sorcerers to mark something as their own, as we will discuss shortly.
Fat/Oil
In Old English charms, we very often see the use of fats and oils. The Æcerbot, an eleventh-century charm with both Pagan and Christian elements, instructs the sorcerer to mix salt, fennel, and frankincense with “hallowed soap” (gehalgode sapan). This sapan was a semi-solid fatty unguent. Another charm recorded during the same century required three herbs—feverfew, red nettle, and plantain—to be boiled in butter. Magical ointments were also made with lanolin, a fatty substance secreted by sheep.
The value of a fat or oil is usually as a carrier for whatever other ingredients—very often herbs—are mixed with it. Fats and oils repel water and thus prevent the active ingredients in a magical preparation from washing away.
Different fats and oils have different properties. Lanolin and natural vegetable oils absorb into the skin, which make them more useful for transferring the benefits of herbal preparations. Their disadvantage is that they eventually become rancid. Animal fats will become rancid very quickly without refrigeration, and they should be avoided unless the preparation will be used immediately.
Petroleum jelly, or soft paraffin, does not become rancid. Developed in the nineteenth century, this substance was unknown to the early Saxons, but it is a very effective base for some ointments. Petroleum-based ointments should only be used over small areas of the skin, as the soft paraffin blocks the skin’s pores.
One jar of petroleum jelly and one of cold pressed almond oil should cover most of your needs. An experienced practitioner, of course, may have a variety of prepared oils and ointments at hand. There are good reasons to have your magic ointments and potions prepared in advance when you can. We will discuss this further in the chapter on wortcunning.
Essential oils are an exception to what I have said here. Essential oils are not used as carriers, although they may be mixed with a carrier oil. An essential oil is “essential” in that the oil itself is the extracted essence of a plant; thus, an essential oil can be considered an active agent in a preparation. Wyrtwitan (herb sorcerers) are especially likely to utilize a number of essential oils in their work.
An essential oil is usually produced by distillation, cold pressing, or solvent extraction. Cold pressing and solvent extraction require professional work. Home distillation is possible for some herbs, but the process is far more trouble than it is worth. Essential oils are readily available and are priced less than it would cost for you to distill them yourself.
When working with essential oils, it is important that you read labels carefully. Very often fragrance oils and essential oils are marketed together, their jars side by side in the same sales display. But a fragrance oil is not an essential oil. Fragrance oils are synthetic chemical preparations that simulate the scents (fragrances) of various herbs. Due to the Law of Sympathy, these synthetic oils do have some value, but you should be aware of whether you are working with the essence of an herb or with a sensory simulation.
Herbs
Almost all Saxon sorcerers use a few herbs, even if wortcunning is not their primary interest. Some herbs, such as the alliums and artemisias, are so prevalent in Saxon magic that I have listed them individually in this chapter. Herbs are not just sipped as infusions (“teas”). In your magical work they may be burned, used as the active reagents in magical ointments or tinctures, woven into garlands, or crushed and blended into powders. The use of essential oils discussed previously is one aspect of herb magic.
The best herbs to use are those you have either grown or gathered, rather than purchased. Homegrown herbs have a very strong connection with you, since it was you who nurtured and cared for them. And many herbs are easy to grow even if you do not have a green thumb.
Wild, natural herbs that you gather yourself have been nurtured and cared for by the local Elves. More importantly, perhaps, they are part of your immediate world, and thus are connected with you. You should not attempt to gather any wild herb unless you know exactly what it looks like. Many plant species with completely different properties bear a remarkable resemblance to one another. You could accidentally take a poisonous herb if you try to gather wild plants without expert knowledge.
You also should not gather any wild plants—even if you know what you are doing—from land that does not belong to you, unless you have permission from the owner to do so. This is theft, pure and simple, even if in your mind you are sure the owner “would not mind.” Public land also falls into the category of land that does not belong to you. It belongs to the public, most of which is not you.
We will, of course, examine herbs in depth in the chapter on wortcunning. Some of the herbs in your sorcerer’s cabinet will be dried, crushed, and kept in jars. Others may be prepared as ointments, potions, or in specially blended powders.
One thing I would like to recommend here is that you not collect or acquire herbs unless you know that you will actually be needing them. It is very easy to get caught up in the mystique of magical herbalism to a point where you find that you have stuffed your closet full of rue, St. John’s wort, henbane, and dozens of other herbs that you may never use. Before purchasing or planting an herb, ask yourself exactly what you will do with it; set it aside and select another species if you cannot think of at least two good, solid answers.
Iron
In traditional Saxon magic, iron has the power to disrupt or redirect psychic energies. It is often used as a protective metal. This is, at least in part, the reasoning behind the lucky horseshoe. The horseshoe is traditionally hung over a doorway with its two ends up to “hold” luck. But this idea is debatable, and sometimes the horseshoe is hung with its two ends down. In England, at the great hall of Oakham Castle in Rutland County (now merged with Leicestershire), countless horseshoes hang on the interior walls with their points down. For the past five hundred years, it has been a custom for English royalty to donate or “forfeit” a horseshoe at the great hall when visiting the town of Oakham.
Points up or down, folklore attests that the horseshoe has a magical effect on its environment. But any piece of iron can be utilized to disrupt or redirect psychic energy. Even scrap iron has been used in counterspells and defensive magic. There are some who believe that just touching iron will cancel or help dispel bad luck brought on by breaking a taboo.
Sharp iron—anything that can cut or perforate—is even more effective. Hooks and shears were once hung in stables to protect livestock. Hammering an iron nail into the headboard over a bed is one method of repelling the mare (pronounced MAR-eh), a spirit that torments mortals in their sleep. These night-mares (Old English, niht maran) disrupt their victims’ sleep and weaken the spirit. Iron horseshoes have also been used to repel the mare.
If you have acquired a seax among your magical tools, this implement can be used to disrupt any negative forces directed at you. Note the difference between the telga (wand) and the seax (knife). The former is used to help your own force flow through your hama (astral body) and connect this power with the outer world, whereas the seax is used to disrupt or redirect outside forces. This tool can be very effective when used in protective spells.
In addition to having a seax, you may also want to keep some iron in your sorcerer’s cabinet in the form of pins, small nails, or even iron filings. All iron possesses the same disruptive quality, so your own personal style should determine the form of iron you keep at hand.
Lead
Lead is believed to be an “impure” or even an evil metal. Of course, today we know its reputation is not unfounded. Lead is a neurotoxin that can build up in the body over long periods of exposure. But lead’s reputation is not an entirely new development. When the Romans came to Britain, they brought with them the custom of using lead plates or tablets for curses. The aggrieved Roman would engrave into the soft metal a curse against a specific person or group of people. The plate or tablet was then left in a temple or dropped into a sacred pool. The tradition didn’t leave Britain when the Romans departed; lead cursing tablets were engraved as late as the 1600s.
Using lead for cursing has fallen out of favor, largely because cursing itself is avoided by most people today, but the fact is that in the real world we are sometimes attacked or otherwise treated unjustly and left with no ordinary means of retaliating. I do not actively condone cursing another person, not because I believe it is innately “immoral,” but because it usually is not your best option. If you feel that you need to resort to a curse, I would encourage you to read the fourth chapter of Travels Through Middle Earth: The Path of a Saxon Pagan. If you have already read that chapter about wyrd (destiny) and honorable actions, and still think you need to curse someone, please read it again. Everything you do throughout your life, no matter how justified you believe your actions to be, will affect your future destiny.
Once in a very great while you may, being fully cognizant of the cost, nevertheless still feel the need to curse, if for no other reason than to gain a personal sense of closure. If this becomes a frequent practice for you, know that your work will ultimately harm you much more than it will harm your perceived “enemies.”
The reason I mention lead at all here is because there are also other, less sinister ways of cursing. There are many influences in our lives that can be safely cursed and wished away. Nicotine addicts, for example, might wish to curse their addiction. Overweight people could curse their emotional dependency on food, if this is the cause of their condition. Heartache is something a person might want to curse in the wake of a loved one’s death or a difficult breakup.
This last example also shows how a dangerous and malevolent curse can be turned around into a positive, safe curse. Everyone hurts after a breakup with another person, and when we hurt we often instinctively want to lash out. Instead of doing something that you will surely regret later, why not curse the pain itself? Hate the heartache. If you can acquire a reasonably thin, small sheet of lead, carve your curse directly into the metal. For heartache, the wording could be something like:
Hate and hurt held in my heart
I banish now! Be gone! Depart!
Take the engraved metal to a lake or, if you live near the ocean, the coast and throw it into the water at sunset. Sunset is the eve or beginning of a new day, so it is a good time to set aside things that will impair our future endeavors.
Lead can often be purchased at hardware or plumbing stores. It is also sold to fishing enthusiasts, who use it for molding sinkers and lures. If you cannot find lead in a sheet suitable for engraving, write your curse on paper and tie it securely around a small piece of lead. The ideal, traditional technique, however, is to engrave the curse directly into the metal.
Mead
Mead is a drink made of fermented honey, similar to wine. It was a gift to mankind from the gods, and its importance to the early Saxons cannot be overemphasized. They had nearly twenty words related to this beverage and its consumption. Mead was served to the Saxon in a mead-cup (meduscenc), as he or she sat on the bench for drinking mead (medubenc) in the hall where mead was served (meduheall). There was a word for the field where the mead-hall stood (meduwang), which was easy enough to find if you followed the path that led to the mead-hall (medustig).
It is not difficult to brew your own mead. I describe the process in an entire chapter devoted to the drink in Travels Through Middle Earth, but you can also purchase commercially bottled mead in many wine stores today. The advantage of brewing your own is not only the cost, but also your ability to brew a wide and interesting variety of meads. The advantage of purchasing a commercial mead is, of course, the convenience.
Saxons and other Germanic Pagans often offer mead as a libation to our gods, and the Saxon sorcerer is no exception. Rune sorcerers, especially, like to give offerings of mead to Woden before beginning any important work. From a purely magical perspective, mead is most often used in the preparation of potions known as metheglins. We will discuss these in the chapter on wortcunning.
Red Paint
Red paint may seem like a strange thing to keep in your cabinet, but red pigment—typically paint—plays a significant role in Saxon sorcery because of another important magical principle known as the Law of Sympathy. This law asserts that two things that resemble each other have an innate magical connection. The Law of Sympathy is the reasoning behind the poppet or “voodoo doll,” formed in the image of the person it is intended to affect, and it is often supplemented by the Law of Contagion by incorporating hair, fingernails, or other intimate items belonging to that person.
The Law of Sympathy connects red pigment with blood. Blood is power. Blood is red. Ergo, anything red has some innate power. Rune sorcerers will often color their runes with red pigment when crafting charms. I do not think anyone would claim that red pigment is as powerful as blood, but it is usually more practical than blood.
My inhíred (Saxon tribe) has used red paint effectively for runic healing. Using a safe, water-based red paint, runes were marked over the appropriate area of the body as part of the healing work. Of course, other techniques, notably chanting, were employed at the same time the runes were painted. These runes were then left overnight, and showered or bathed off the following morning. We did this for one of my fellow híredmenn when he needed back surgery. His wife painted runes down his spine to the accompaniment of drumming and chanting; after the surgery, he was released from the hospital much earlier than expected.
I had a bindrune painted in red across my throat the night before I had part of my thyroid removed. Passages from the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem were read aloud as each part of the bindrune was applied. Other people were chanting, and those voices blended with the readings to build a cacophony of power. It was an intense experience. More importantly, though, the medical procedure went smoothly.
I also keep both red cloth and red thread on hand for magic work. It is the color that connects these to blood, and therefore connects them to power. Red cloth is the best color to use for charm bags, all other things being equal. If you have a reason to use cloth of some other color, bind the charm up with red thread. Can you make an effective charm bag with another color cloth and thread? Of course, you can, but the color red gives your magic a boost because it is a symbolic link with the power of blood.
When you apply the color personally, do not eschew modern advances. A red felt tip marker is often more practical and useful than a brush and bottle of paint. Avoid using markers on your skin, though—the ink often does not wash away readily and may leave a stain for days.
Salt
Salt is one substance I believe is essential for every sorcerer to have on hand. From a magical perspective, due to the Law of Sympathy, salt has a connection to blood because of its taste. Blood tastes salty, and blood is the life fluid. Ergo, salt is linked to life force. This connection is even more apparent to us than it was to the early Saxons, now that we know life began in and emerged from the salty oceans. Saltwater truly is the life blood of Mother Earth.
The magical properties of salt are also related to its power to preserve food. This was especially important before refrigeration. Salting meats and fish was one method to keep them from spoiling. That there is a natural explanation for this is irrelevant. As I said earlier, magic is supernatural, not unnatural. The fact remains that salt preserves and protects. This is how it is used in magic. Salt has been used as a magical protection throughout England, Scotland, and Wales. It is one of the magical ingredients prescribed in the Æcerbot charm.
If you feel that you are being magically attacked, throw a handful of salt into a fire. (This is easier to accomplish if you have an actual fireplace.) I have also known witches to protect their homes by pouring a defensive symbol, often runic, in salt just inside the entry door. I do not know of any historic documentation for this latter technique, but it seems to be effective. The rune eolh would be a good choice for the defensive symbol, although the salt itself is an important active ingredient in this process.
The idea that spilling salt brings bad luck dates back to at least the 1500s, and possibly much further. The remedy, of course, is to immediately throw a pinch of the spilled salt over your left shoulder.
Because of its preservative property, salt is sometimes used to “set” a magic work, especially when the spell will continue over several days or more. After the physical components of the spell—candles, runes, or other symbols—have been laid out, a circle of salt is poured around them to preserve and contain the work at hand.
I have also seen salt used, and have used it myself, to purify or cleanse a tool as a first step in preparing that tool for magic work. Usually the fire and water spell given in the previous chapter is sufficient for this purpose, but if the object has a questionable past, especially if it was used extensively by another wyrdworker, it can be buried in salt for a fortnight (two weeks) to expel any contrary spirit the tool may harbor.
Spittle
The next two substances I want to mention may seem unusual and perhaps even a little disgusting. The one nice thing I can say about spit is that you will not need to keep any in your sorcerer’s cabinet—we each carry around our own supply.
Spit is used to seal and protect. In traditional Saxon magic, the sorcerer’s spit (spatl) was sometimes mixed with herbs (Griffiths, 187). The very act of spitting brings luck and repels evil influences. Due to the Law of Sympathy, simply pretending to spit has a similar if slightly lesser effect. Spittle has been applied to the skin to dispel warts and rashes, and to seal and protect cuts.
I cannot prove this, but I suspect the power of spittle was originally observed in the behavior of animals licking their wounds. Saliva, including human saliva, does contain several antibacterial compounds that provide a physical rationale for the perceived healing properties, but the significance of spittle is deeper than this. Like blood, spittle has traditionally been used to seal oaths. At one time two people shaking hands to bind themselves to an agreement would first spit into their palms. Both the similarity and difference between this and an oath of blood brotherhood are readily apparent. Both involve an exchange of body fluids, but the exchange of blood is more penetrating and more permanently binding.
Urine
As with spittle, the only pleasant thing I can say about urine is that you do not have to pack away a supply of it in your sorcerer’s cabinet. If at any time you do not have a generous supply, drink a tall glass of water and wait thirty minutes.
From a magic perspective, the power of urine is to claim ownership. Here again, I suspect this to be another concept originally observed in the behavior of animals, especially males. Dogs routinely mark their territories with urine, and male cats are notorious for spraying. These behaviors leave scent markers to let other animals know that the object or immediate area has been claimed. We humans have a relatively weak sense of smell, but traditional sorcerers use magic in much the same way to lay claim to an object or area.
An example of this is found in the classic charm known as a witch bottle. The purpose of this charm is to protect the homestead. To make a witch bottle, fill a small jar or bottle with pins and nails. Note that you are using iron—the pins and nails—to disrupt any negative forces directed at your home. You do not need to use a combination of both, either all pins or all nails work equally well. After this, fill the bottle or jar with your own urine. In doing this you are essentially marking your territory. The bottle should then be sealed tightly and buried somewhere on your property near the home.
Witch bottles can be made for somebody else by using their urine rather than your own. For the obvious reason that most of us do not care to handle another person’s urine, the witch bottle is a charm that you usually make for yourself.
There is another tradition in which the witch bottle is not buried, but is cast into a fire. I do not recommend this, as it results in a terrible mess to clean up.
Wax
I do not know of any inherent magical properties of beeswax or paraffin wax, but both of these can be useful in your magic work. Of course, the early Saxons would have only used beeswax. Paraffin wax is less expensive and more readily available for the modern practitioner and is usually just as suitable.
Both beeswax and paraffin wax are malleable at fairly low temperatures. Holding a small piece of wax in your hand will warm it enough to where you can carefully mold and shape it. You can easily mold a piece of wax into the shape of a human being. We have already seen how a figure like this can be used, thanks to the Law of Sympathy, as a magical link. In the same way, wax can be molded into almost any shape you desire. The only limit is your ability to conceive a symbol or image appropriate for your work.
The use of wax overlaps and includes the practice of candle magic. A candle, after all, is simply a lump of wax imbedded with a wick. It is unlikely that the pre-Christian Saxons made much use of candle magic, primarily because they did not often use candles at all. Candle magic became more common as candles became more accessible to the average person. In Buckinghamshire women would thrust two pins through a candle, each pin passing through its wick, while chanting a simple spell. This was done to attract a lover, but candles have been used for almost every purpose imaginable.
In 1970, Raymond Buckland published an excellent book about candle magic. Practical Candleburning Rituals has since been reprinted and is available at this time for those who are interested in pursuing the practice. The spells given in his book are also excellent examples of galdor, which will be discussed later.
You will not need all of the items described here, but now you have some idea of how they are used. Hopefully this also gives you some idea as to which ingredients you will be more likely to need.
One other thing I would like to mention before moving on is magical timing. What you do can be more effective if you know when to do it. For the Saxon sorcerer, two things to consider are the day of the week and the phase of the moon. These are only considerations, however, and should not become an impediment to your work. Frequently there will be times when you need to cast a spell even though it is not the best day of the week, or the moon is waning rather than waxing. This does not mean that your spell will have no effect, it only means you will have to work a little harder.
The day of the week is the lesser of these two considerations. There are some who ignore this entirely, arguing that the seven-day week is a Roman contrivance and not integral to Anglo-Saxon tradition. The counterpoint is that the Roman week was adopted and Anglicized early on, certainly before the English kings converted to Christianity, and does significantly reflect an Anglo-Saxon perspective. Both points of view have their merit. As for myself, if I am going to work some magic affecting my home, I will do it on the day sacred to the goddess Frige if it is at all convenient, since she is sovereign over the household. There is certainly no harm in it, and there may be some benefit.
One significant difference between the Roman week days and Saxon week days is that the latter begin at sunset. For example, the Saxon “Monday” begins at sunset on Sunday and ends at sunset the following day.
Another difference is found in the names of the week days. In languages which have evolved from Latin, the days of the week are named after Roman gods; Mars, Mercurius, Iupiter, and so on. By contrast, the English days of the week are, for the most part, named after Saxon gods who were perceived to embody similar qualities and interests. This is where timing comes into play. If you are working magic to ensure a fair trial it makes sense to do this, when convenient, on Tiw’s Day (Tuesday) since the god Tiw takes a special interest in order and justice.
The glaring exception in the Anglicized week is Saturday, which retains the name of the Roman god Saturnus. It is unlikely that we will ever learn why Dies Saturni kept its Roman name, but my personal belief is that the early Saxons did not think any of their own deities reflected the same qualities and interests as Saturnus. He was an important agricultural god of seeds and sowing. As a god of the earth and its fertility, Saturnus shares something in common with the Saxon tribe of Wanic gods and goddesses, but apparently not enough with any one deity to forfeit his rulership of the seventh day of the week. The Wanic powers were not worshipped as widely among the Anglo-Saxons as they later were among the Scandinavian peoples. Only brief references to these earth-centered deities survive in works such as Beowulf and the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem. The last day of the week, Sæterdæg, may have been a day honoring all of the Wanic powers collectively under the name of a foreign agrarian god.
Because of this agrarian connection, the hours between sunset on Friday and sunset on Saturday are especially conducive to earth-focused magic. This is a good time to work magic for the fertility of the land, for farms or gardens, and also for prosperity.
Sunday is, of course, named for the sun, or for the goddess Sunne, as the Saxons knew her. Unlike the Greeks and Romans, who perceived the sun as a masculine body, northern Europeans saw the sun as feminine. Sunne was a positive figure, and her physical body, the sun, was greatly valued for its use in navigation. For this reason, the hours between sunset on Saturday and sunset on Sunday are conducive to magic intended to promote guidance and understanding.
The following day of the week is named for the moon god, Mona. Here again we see a reversal of gender in contrast to the feminine moon of the southern Europeans. Mona governs the cycles of life. The hours between sunset on Sunday and sunset on Monday are conducive to magic workings to nurture growth, and to any magic related to water or creatures that live in the water.
After this comes Tiw’s day. Tiw is the Saxon “sky father” and ruler of the North Star. He is a god of order, stability, and justice. Tiw is sometimes referred to as a war god, but that description could be applied to almost any northern deity. The hours between sunset on Monday and sunset on Tuesday are conducive to magic bolstering the stability of the community, or for a fair judgment in a trial.
Woden’s day is named, of course, for the god Woden, the chief god of the Saxons. Woden is a god of inspiration. In this respect he is another deity who can easily be described as a war god, because it helps to be psyched up or inspired when marching into battle with nothing more than a spear and a seax. Woden’s inspiration is shared equally with the poet and the musician, as well as the warrior. Woden is also the master magician who discovered the runic mysteries. The hours between sunset on Tuesday and sunset on Wednesday are conducive to runic magic, as well as any magic intended to stimulate and foster creativity.
The following day is named for the Saxon god Thunor. His name means “thunder,” and he is the strongest of the gods. Thunor is a protector of Middle Earth (the physical plane). Wielding a mighty hammer, he defends our realm of existence from the depredation of hostile, chaotic forces. For this reason, the hours between sunset on Wednesday and sunset on Thursday are especially conducive to protective magic.
Frige’s day is named for Woden’s consort, the goddess Frige. She is sovereign over household arts, which in the context of today’s society includes almost every industry other than farming, fishing, and fighting. Frige also concerns herself with marriage. The hours between sunset on Thursday and sunset on Friday are conducive to love magic, magic to protect or stimulate business, and any magic for the benefit of children or the home.
The god Mona gives his name to Monday, but his physical manifestation, the moon, governs all cycles of life and of magic. It is the moon that summons the tides. For centuries on end people have consulted the phase of the moon before planting or cultivating or harvesting their crops. The wyrdworker too considers the moon when planning any spell or charm.
When people today speak of planting or doing anything else “by the moon,” they are often referring to the moon’s position in the zodiac of classic astrology. This was not a practice among the early Saxons for two reasons: The first is that astrology as we know it is a science based on the constellations of southern Europe. Eventually astrology was accepted in England as it was everywhere else throughout Europe. Would the Saxons have accepted images of Castor and Pollux (Gemini), or Zeus’ lover Ganymede (Aquarius) if they had not abandoned their own traditions? We may never know. I would like to think that, just as there is a Chinese astrology, we may someday evolve an astrology based on the constellations of northern Europe.
The second reason classic astrology played no role in the lives of the early Saxons is because they were largely an illiterate people. They had no almanacs or calendars to tell them when the moon entered or left the sign of Cancer. The zodiac consists of twelve imaginary, equal zones across the path of the sun. These only loosely correspond with the southern European constellations for which they are named. Determining the moon’s sign on any given evening is not a simple matter of glancing up at the sky.
Of course today we do have almanacs and calendars that tell us precisely where Mona is traveling along the zodiac. I do not advocate an eclectic method of magic because I believe it distracts the practitioner from mastering any specific approach. It is natural, though, for a practitioner to occasionally explore and even adopt a procedure or system from a different discipline. Classic astrology has become an integral part of our contemporary culture, and it would be unreasonable to rebuke a fellow drýmann or drýicge for integrating astrological moon signs into his or her work.
For the Saxons, though, it was the moon’s phases that mattered. Moon phases are visible to the naked eye. With only a little practice, you can quickly learn to distinguish the full moon from a moon that is a day early or later than full.
What the traditional Saxon sorcerer looks for is whether the moon is waxing or waning. By waxing we mean the moon is growing larger, from new to full. The waxing moon is conducive to magic intended to nurture and cause things to expand or grow. Any time you want to increase something, plan your work during the waxing moon.
A waning moon is diminishing from full to dark. This is the time for magic intended to eliminate or weaken things. Some people shy away from working magic during the waning moon because they do not understand its nature. To weaken or diminish something is not necessarily “evil.”
The trick to working with the moon is learning how to phrase your magic in such a way that you ride the prevailing lunar influence. Almost any magic work can be conducted with equal efficiency under both a waxing or waning moon, assuming the work is designed appropriately. Let us assume you want to help a friend who is battling a chronic viral infection. If the moon is waxing, or growing larger, design a spell to strengthen your friend and bolster his or her health. If the moon is waning, your spell should target and attempt to banish the virus. These are two entirely different approaches, but the result, should your magic succeed, will be the same.
Review
1. What is amber used for?
2. Why are petroleum-based ointments only used over small areas of the skin?
3. Describe the magical properties of iron.
4. What is the Law of Sympathy?
5. What is the best time to work a spell intended to expand your creative skills?