Backwoods witchcraft, p.12
Backwoods Witchcraft, page 12
Remember Miz Wilson? Folks say she'd chant and whisper, entertaining the dead and other spirits in the rocks and riverbanks; she'd chant and charm all night. Come daybreak, Ol' Miz Wilson would retire to her shack and the spirits would return to their place in the rocks. Folks would see her come out, right early in the morning when the sun had just risen and the mists and fog were rising from the water's surface. She'd get her a round stone and twirl it in her hands, rubbing her thumbs around and around on it, while whispering and gazing into the fog, seemingly hypnotized by it. Folks say she was talking to the dead, the little folk, or the Devil himself. While no one knows for sure whom Ol' Miz Wilson was talking to, I figure it had to be an interesting conversation, don't you think? This technique seems to be a preoccupation of the thumbs and fingers rubbing over the stone, perhaps to subdue and distract the “right mind” for spiritual communication. I've tried my hand at it before and have my stone still, and as far as I can gather, it helps ease you into another space.
WORKING WITH THE DEAD
Working with the dead is one of the most popular yet least understood practices in folk magic. Many people read about it online and just hop down to the graveyard for some dirt, but it isn't that simple. Spirits don't just make miracles on request. They'll do favors and offer services in exchange for something—usually pennies or other coins, jars of moonshine, cigarettes, food, or perfume left on the grave. When I am buying dirt from a grave, I will simply tell the spirit, “I ain't stealing nothing, cause I'm leaving this here in its place,” or “I'm buying some of your dirt here for such and such reason for such and such offering.”
Graveyards are the focus of all kinds of weird tales, and they have become a place of importance in the making of many formulas for protection, luck, love, healing, and cursing. Some recipes call for dirt from the grave of a police officer or a doctor for varied reasons. Then people go out and get it with no question. But the problem here is that you are employing the aid of a spirit you know nothing about. What if the doctor in life abused his patients or the police officer was crooked? Not everything can be found in a Google search or a book. Not even here. Usually folks were buried in a family hilltop cemetery, so family stories have information about who did what as a profession—whether they were a miner, a shoemaker, a sheriff, a doctor. Folks knew everybody in town back then as well. It's not like this anymore, so you need to be careful of who you approach in the graveyard.
The dead aren't all kind, and there are more secrets in each grave than you'll ever know. We work with the dead to have them complete a task on our or someone's behalf and will use the dirt from the grave in the tricks to bring their power into the work. When you go to a graveyard to employ a spirit or buy dirt, I encourage you to use the previously mentioned ways of protecting yourself from haints. Other precautions I take at a graveyard include the following: Never step over a grave, as it will bring misfortune. Don't point at a grave, or you'll be stricken with illness. Come alone and leave alone, and as you leave do not look behind you until you pass the first crossroads home, or you'll be vulnerable to a spirit hopping on your back. I won't even look in the rearview mirrors of the car until I pass the first crossroads. You can avoid this vulnerability by wearing a hat of some kind; most folks always wore a hat or bonnet to funerals and grave decorations anyway.
If you're still wondering about being stricken with illness, it does happen. Half of the time, weird illnesses can be caused unconsciously from the lingering ghosts of relatives pining for their family, and it will especially affect a person they were particularly close to. Other times, it can be a conscious act on the part of the spirit. But believe me, if you piss off the dead, bringing sickness is barely the bottom of the bag of tricks they have in store.
Before doing any work with a spirit you have no prior experience with, in life or death, it is always best to test the spirits to “see if they are of God,” or that they mean well and can be trusted. Remember that even the Devil can recite Scripture. Always trust your gut. Say a prayer asking God to give you the spiritual power of discernment to see if the spirits mean well. Uneasy feelings like knots in the pit of your stomach, gusts of warm air, chills, and wind blowing from the north are signs you need to hightail it out of there.
Now that's not to say we never work with bad haints. It's just not recommended for those who aren't trained to do so, as the spirits of thieves and criminals can go rogue. Some of the above signs can be results of fear, but you don't need that here. My Mamaw Hopson always said, “fear is just faith backward.” It means you're looking in the wrong direction instead of trusting the Creator and your ancestors. I don't believe wiser words have ever been spoken in these hills. Some of the old formulas recommended gathering dirt from the graves of certain people, mostly based on profession, habit, and cause of death: a man who was a drunkard, a sinner, an unbaptized child, and someone who died badly are the most frequent targets. But for now, I recommend you stick with the folks you knew in life.
When entering a graveyard or cemetery, there's a widespread tradition of giving an offering to the guardian spirit of the cemetery in order to enter and be under their protection. There are two beliefs about this guardian spirit. The first originates from the African traditions. They believe that the guardian spirit is the first person laid to rest in the graveyard and is charged with the duty of keeping watch over it forever. In Scotland and Ireland, they believe it's the last person to be buried who is charged with keeping watch from sunset to sunrise every day. This guardian is discharged only when the next person is buried.3
The dead are employed for multiple reasons. Usually, your own beloved departed can manage just about everything you need help with. If you need protection, go to the grave of that person who was an old-fashioned “mama bear” and gather the dirt from the heart of the grave. If you need money, go to the luckiest person you knew. My Papaw Trivett used to go down to Cherokee and gamble a lot. He had a bit of a problem, but it was rare that he lost. He also owned his own contracting business, and he ran a good show at restoring and flipping multiple houses throughout my mama's childhood. If I ever need help or an extra buck, I go to his grave.
LITTLE PEOPLE
Stories from from the Irish, Scottish, and Cherokee continue in Appalachia about little people who live in the caves and treetops, creeks and hills, and even tunnels beneath old colleges. The Cherokee held these beliefs long before the white foot fell on this soil. The little people from Cherokee stories were called Yunwi Tsunsdi'. They were described as being like the Cherokee in attire and language, and somewhat in culture. They are a handsome people and barely knee-high, with long hair to their ankles.
The Cherokee speak about one particular little “wizard” who acts like an Appalachian puck in his hillside activities. (Puck, or puca, in folklore is an English trickster spirit.) This malicious trickster dwarf is De'tsata (day-jah-tah). His story goes like this: A young Cherokee boy ran off into the forests to avoid getting a whopping from his mother. Ever since, he has remained invisible to avoid the spanking from his mother. Whether he became invisible on his own or he ate the food of the Yunwi Tsunsdi' is up for debate amongst storytellers. (Eating the food of the little people is a universal phenomenon and usually traps the person in their realm. In a similar Cherokee story, a young boy goes to live in the woods and can't return because he has eaten the animal's food, and became the first black bear himself.) They say the invisible boy loves to hunt birds and make a ruckus in the forests. Anytime deer are spooked by something or birds flutter in great numbers from their resting places for no apparent reason, they say it's him chasing them for fun.
The Cherokee hunters would often lose their arrows while hunting, and they blamed it on De'tsata. To find them, the hunter would threaten him with a spanking. The Cherokee believe that De'tsata has been invisible for centuries and in that time he has had multiple children who look just like him and also have his same name.
The little folk aren't very trusting of humans, especially the white man. Cherokee lore tells us they aided lost travelers in the forests, warned the people of impending danger, and helped the conjure or medicine men of the tribe through whispers and dreams. Some stories even tell of layfolk Indians, those not versed in magic or medicine, owning little people and feeding them cornbread or milk in return for protecting their property from theft or vandalism. They also led people to safety and even taught the medicines of a plant in dreams for the sick. They were also the ones who took the human soul to the spirit world.
It takes a lot to gain the trust of the little people and acquire their aid in times of adversity. They don't accept being mocked or gossiped about, and there are many tales of them bringing sickness to those who do so. One story I heard growing up was of a boy walking along a river when he saw a little man sitting on a stone in the middle of the water. The man told the boy not to come any farther, but he persisted and didn't want to be ordered around by a short man such as him. The little boy threw rocks at the man, and each time the rock hit the man it had no effect. He was unharmed. The little man began to laugh and disappeared. The boy went home and told his parents about it all. The father scolded him and told him he needs to go back and apologize before all sorts of bad things befall the family. The boy wouldn't listen. Every night after that, the boy would be found sleepwalking and close to throwing himself out the window. After a few days of this, the father forced the boy to take some food back to the river where the little man was seen. After that, the little folk were appeased and nothing bad befell the family.
The little people of Appalachia are separated in different clans or tribes based on their temperament. The Rock clan is composed of malicious dwarves whose sole task is to lead man to harm or death. The Laurel clan are tricksters, yet rewarding to work with, as their tricks almost always include a bit of humor. The Laurels are to blame for fishing hooks getting caught in rocks and logs at the bottom of lakes and rivers; however, they were also the cause of babies laughing and smiling in their sleep. (Today, this is attributed to angels.) The Dogwood care the most about the human predicament. They are the primary helpers of lost children, the starving, and people in danger on the mountains. The little people, regardless of clan, have been detailed to have white, black, or golden skin like the Cherokee. Sometimes they speak Tsalagi, the language of the Cherokee, but other times they talk in their own native tongue.
To eat the food of a tribe of nature spirits meant that person was now part of that tribe and would never return to or see their kin again. The story of Forever Boy tells this tale. Forever Boy did not want to grow up. All of his human friends talked about what they wanted to do when they became men, how much game they would hunt. Forever Boy didn't want this. He wanted to stay a kid forever and have fun in the creeks. He didn't want the responsibility of a man.
His father told him he needed to learn certain things soon so he would be ready for manhood. His father said he would take him the next day to his uncle and there he would learn everything about being a man. (In Cherokee society it was the closest male relative of the mother who taught her sons about being a man.)
The boy went to the creek and cried his heart out. He didn't want to go to his uncle's house and learn to be a man. He was content with being just a boy. The animals of the forest had gathered around him and were telling him something. “Come back to the creek early tomorrow, in the morning.” So he went home.
In the morning, he went back to the creek and the animals were waiting for him. They were telling him something different now: “Look behind you.” Forever Boy looked behind him and found all the little people happy to see him. They told him, “You don't have to grow up. Come and live with us and you'll never become a man. You can play with us in the creek forever. We will pray to Creator and He will give your parents a vision that you are safe.” The little people gave the boy a root of some kind that was roasted. Some say it was a duck potato (Sagittaria latifolia). Legend has it he has remained with the little people and is still a little boy.
Those taken in by the little people either by welcome or by trapping often remain gone from their people for years, although the celebrations and festivities held by the “neighbors,” as I call them, only last until dawn. To this day, a lot of people (native or not) will shy away from any strange music or laughter heard in the forests. Many times you wouldn't find the source of the drums or singing anyway, because the direction it comes from will change. Other times, you will find it. Lord have your soul if your intrusion angers them, too.
They are said to have joined in the dances of the tribes, appearing as beautiful young women who enticed the men so much, they didn't notice the goat or deer legs the women had until sunrise when the women would start walking off and disappear with no trace. If you decide to work with these neighbors, never go searching for them. Don't intrude on their space or try to find them. Simply take an offering outside and start talking to them. They'll hear it if they happen to be around. Make a deal with them—continued offerings for a task done on their part—and then lay the offerings down. Never throw their offerings or gifts on the ground, because they aren't animals. I can't stress this enough.
Sometimes, the little people can be petitioned for emergencies or things that are a lost cause. However, if things go wrong, it can't be undone. When you go to them, you are recognizing that whatever charms they perform for you can only be reversed by them. You never want to go to them for love workings. More often than not, it will not be like you hoped, and it is hard to convince them to reverse the charm. The chances of them actually doing this for you are low—even if you offer tobacco, which is traditionally the best offering to anything in these hills.
In the lore of the Old and New World, white animals were believed to be connected to the little people or actually be little people in animal form. This was often paired with the transformational abilities attributed to witches. Other times, white animals were simply believed to be messengers from the dead or angels in heaven. Strangely, the native people of Appalachia hold beliefs parallel with this, especially the white dog. These mixed, and the mountaineer's stories filled with “witchin'” animals such as the albino weasel, snake, deer, bird, or fish. They were attributed with supernatural powers and were honored by tradition as omens of luck, death, and witchcraft. Examples of these are the white dog come to warn about coming death and the witching deer said to be the source of the most powerful madstone, as it was used by natives and colonizers alike.
ANIMAL SPIRITS
This section isn't about animal spirit guides; I'm talking about working with the actual spirits of deceased animals. Appalachian stories are filled with tales about animals that stem from Europe or the native tribes. My father taught me that the black bear was watched to see what plants and berries were good to eat. Stories abound with animals bringing luck or death. Remedies are filled with prescriptions utilizing the feet, eyes, urine, and organs of animals.
Now here's where I need to make a legal statement: Animal abuse, stealing animals, and hunting and fishing out of season are illegal in the United States. Any part or byproduct of migratory birds is illegal to possess in any form, be it eggs, feathers, nest materials, or other things. This is according to the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. You also need to know about what animal parts you can import or posses in the state you live in, as well as which animals are endangered.
That being said, some remedies and tricks call for crow or robin eggs, salamanders that could be endangered, and the extraction of things from an animal while it is still alive or having it die for a charm. For example, an old cure for whooping cough, seizures, and pneumonia was to catch a rainbow trout on a Sunday and lay the live fish on the chest of the patient, letting it flail about until it dies. As the fish dies, so does the disease or sickness. These types of formulas are many and include such things as suffocating, drowning, gutting, and so on.
I will not speak more on those here; I simply bring it up to remind you that this work was not coined by people who “sought a connection with nature.”
Since the purpose of this book is to exhume Appalachian folk magic from its deathbed, I also took into account the current laws regarding the possession and hunting of animals as well as the vulnerability status of all these animals. We live in a different Appalachia today than our elders did. We have to admit that Appalachia has changed and its laws have changed with it. Because of this I promote ethical practices in regards to using animal parts and plants. Do so legally, don't buy things you're not allowed to have in your state, and don't further endanger a species for your own gain.
What I will offer is the bit of lore available in regard to the spirits of animals and how you can work with them. I have a coyote pelt tacked to my living room wall. Surrounding the pelt are chicken feet and flowers. I contracted a deal with the spirit of the coyote to warn me in my dreams of danger and to run off my enemies. I've tenderly named him Ol' Blue. Sometimes, upon returning from somewhere I will scratch the pelt between the ears to show some love.
