Literary Witchcraft: Geillis Duncan's Spell

I've been re-reading Diana Gabaldon's massive Outlander series, and magick does work its way through the narrative in ways both subtle and explicit. It is expressed most explicitly through a character who takes the pseudonym of Geillis Duncan and is a practitioner of what one might reasonably call the Dark Arts, what with all the killing and such.

In Drums of Autumn, the fourth novel in the series(1), we get a glimpse into Duncan's grimoire, which includes the following spell; I reproduce it here as it appears beginning on page 692 of the Nook edition of the book:

I raise my athame to the North,
where is the home of my power,
To the West,
where is the hearth of my soul,
To the South,
where is the seat of friendship and refuge,
To the East,
from whence rises the sun.

Then lay I my blade on the altar
I have made.
I sit down amid three flames.

Three points define a plane, and
I am fixed.
Four points box the earth and mine
is the fullness thereof.
Five is the number of protection;
let no demon hinder me.
My left hand is wreathed in gold,
and holds the power of the sun.
My right hand is sheathed in silver,
and the moon reigns serene.
I begin.

Garnets rest in love about my neck.
I will be faithful.

This would actually be a workable piece, though if I were to test-drive it I would alter the wording a bit to put it more in line with my own praxis (for example, I'd shift the directional attributions a bit, flipping the West and the South as given above). I like the reference to "three flames," which is then amplified by "three points define a plane"; to me this has parallels with the magician's Triangle of Manifestation as well as the symbol of the first degree initiation (at least within some traditions). The four points boxing the earth could easily be the cardinal points that mark the boundaries of the witch's personal universe. Five are the points of the pentagram, which can be used as a protective device. The gold/sun and silver/moon are familiar enough to be nearly self-explanatory. The garnets about the neck have a specific meaning in the narrative (as do the gold and silver on the respective hands), but the wearing of a necklace in ritual is common in BTW-derived witchcraft.

Tweaked to the specifics of one's personal style of working, this incantation might make a fine opening statement before a working. I may try doing just that.


(1) There are many books in this lengthy series of historical time-travel magical fantasy description-defying sagas. If you have the time and the inclination, I recommend them highly.

Halloween Treats

As has become my custom, I'll be posting vintage Halloween postcards in the month of October. In collecting and curating them, however, I've discovered that quite a number of them contain very classically witchy charms and spells. Those seemed more appropriate for posting here, and so over the course of the rest of the month I'll be selecting my favorites and sharing them with all of you.

Let's begin with this one:

I love this one, as it combines two of my favorite things: witchcraft and science (specifically of the mad-scientist variety). She appears to have a vial of potion in one hand and a flask containing a conjured heart in the other. She's heating the heart over a candle's flame, which is of course witchier than using a Bunsen burner; familiars in the forms of cat and owl observe. One assumes the broom is present to sweep up any lab accidents, since it doesn't seem to figure into the working.

The spell/verse reads as follows:

On Hallowe'en the witches resort
To test lovers' hearts in a glass retort
If they turn Black she knows what to do
Should it stay Red your lover is true
Throw ink down her well, to break the charm
And your lover is safe for it will shield him from harm.

So here we see that the witch is experimenting--divining, in a way--to determine if further magickal working will be necessary. If the heart turns black, the lover is dishonest, and thus must be spelled; if the heart stays red, no further intervention is required. Note that the counterspell is provided at the end of the verse; this is apparently a failsafe for the witch's client, should she have a (you should pardon the pun) change of heart about bewitching her lover.   

Witching Up

Mugwort and mead hangover, and that certain je ne sais quoi sensation that comes of having gotten one's witch on, so to speak. Good times.

Witchly Dreams and Stranger Things

Last night I had a strange and rather beguiling dream. I was visiting a small and rustic shop in an unknown locale; it might have been on festival grounds or in a woodland, I couldn't say for certain. There was a table set up with a selection of glassed purpose candles, and my eyes were drawn to the ones at the far right of the table; these were in yellowish glass containers, with yellowish wax, and each one contained a few leaves from a small paperback-sized book. Studying the containers I learnt that the candles were designed to work with the energies of a fictional being from an obscure horror novel (one that has never existed on this plane to my knowledge); the candles contained pages from said novel and were meant to evoke the character to a particular end. One of the candles' glasses had broken into several pieces, and I remember picking that one up and sitting it carefully at the back of the table.

I know that other things happened, but they have mostly all retreated to the far edges of my memory and refuse at the moment to be drawn out. However, the one thing I do remember is my friend Glaux joining me at the table and proceeding to anoint my forehead with an ointment she called the Toadman's Salve. I was instructed to be careful what I looked through thereafter. Sometime after that I picked up my camera and found that my vision through the viewfinder was--altered, is the only way I can really describe it. I also remember wondering vaguely how this Sight was going to impact my ability to drive safely home!

I've never given much consideration to toads and their meaning to me personally, although now that I do think of it I realize that they've always made their presence known in my life, from a young age. As a child I could catch them easily, and I know that I was responsible for the death of a few as a very young and stupid kid; I could catch them, all right, but had no idea what to feed them. At our previous home, I often saw them around the property, and again I would catch them and move them out of harm's way (say when the lawn mower was approaching). Tree frogs were common visitors, as well, but it was only the toads that I could easily catch. What this means I have no idea, but something tells me it is a subject for further investigation.