The Landscape Zodiac of Britain part 12 Cancer - the Northern-Gate of the Sun
There is more to this sign Cancer-the-Crab, than meets-the-eye, at-first-glance. And second, third, etc.
I don't-know and never know what we're going to find 'out-there' on the olde-British landscape nor in the wider-world, meaning, in-truth, each one of these articles is an adventure (for me), and though I have a more-or-less rough-idea of what to expect in each individual-sign of the zodiac, I am steadily being re-educated by the landscape-itself, and the things written thereon by the ancients in the form-of place-names - re-educated about astrology, the ancient-past, the ancient-mind, etc.
I tell you this because the sign we're about-to look-at, investigate and try to understand, Cancer the Crab, being the sign of The People, the sign of the Mother, the sign of the Children is therefore the sign underlying pretty-well EVERYTHING in our World - physical, emotional, cutural, existential - and there's rather a lot of that.
Before we launch into this Cancerian adventure, better-start with a bit of a recap, re-view etc.
The Sun (in alignment with the Hinge), passes through - at the Solstice - the pillars of Gemini the twins, enters the pincers of Cancer the crab - and the crab carries the bright-pearl along the horizon of the giant-cherub's head - East Anglia (anyone know where West Anglia is?)
In a sense we must retrace our-steps through territory we've already covered (see previous article) - inside the head of a giant-cherub - only this time we have to look for Cancerian traits and themes in the landscape names and topography, where previously we looked-for, and found, Gemini. Don't let-it confuse you, it's simple.
I've stuck these images in, of England and Wales wearing the previously secret be-winged human-visage, to (hopefully) make this all a bit-clearer - the Sun reverses direction when it rises over The Wash (see directional arrows), and after three stationary sunrises starts rising where he'd risen in the previous month - the differences being one of direction and one of sign - the Sunrise point is now moving south instead-of north (viewed from Stonehenge or what I call the Stone-Hinge) and we're in the Cardinal-Water of Cancer the crustacean, rather-than the Mutable-Air of Gemini-the-twins, lovers or brothers.
Of course, this doesn't mean that the influence of Gemini suddenly goes-away, it's still there.
And the same is true of the following-sign, Leo. The place where Gemini began is the place where Leo will begin, at the end of Cancer's tenure.
In fact we get this 'double-influence' occurring in all of the signs, in all of the counties and regions and in all of the organs and limbs. For a being as complex as a human - or more-so - this is only to be expected.
As-with all the signs, Cancer is metaphorically represented by the two-hour period noon-2pm. At the Summer Solstice when the sign begins, this relates to noon (1200), passing-through the number 1300 and ending-at 1400-hours - as we'll see in a little-more detail later, 13 and therefore one-o-clock is a number specifically 'tuned' to the Moon.
Any-road, noon-2pm is a pretty-light time of the day, and quite a warm time of the year. I think it interestingly polarizing that this sign of the longest and (potentially) hottest day of the year is 'ruled' or 'governed' by the mistress of the night - the Sun's missus - the Moon. I believe that this is why it is nearly-always overcast or rainy on the day of the Solstice (well it is around here, Whitstable, Kent).
In the old-days, I mean in antiquity, the sign of the crab was, according to Alice Bailey, known as the Northern Gate of the Sun. On one-level at-least that's because the Tropic-of-Cancer is the Sun's most northerly line-of-latitude - Sol cannot rise any-farther north than that line called the Tropic-of-Cancer - he reaches the 'gate' at Summer-Solstice and reverses direction.
This is the sign of the building of the 'house of the spirit,' the womb which magically weaves the physical body in which will dwell the three energies we have investigated since the Spring Equinox: the Will of Aries, the Desire of Taurus and the Intellect of Gemini.
When looking for topographical-images or other-clues in the landscape that point to this feminine water sign, keep in mind the ancient image of the pregnant earth goddess, belly swollen, breasts drooping, legs spread wide, usually found buried in cairns, tumuli and graves; or the so-called Sheila-Na-Gig figure found on door-lintels at the entrances to ancient chapels and churches, bald-headed, breastless, bony chested and ribs scarred, her gaping vagina spread open by her bony fingers. As I'll reveal at the appropriate moment(s), I firmly believe that Sheila-Na-Gig and many-other ancient goddess-figures were based-entirely on the British-landscape.
These goddesses and others like Shela-Na-Gig seem to represent all that the early, prurient Christians despised about women - she mocked their sensibilities, she justified with her blank stare and emotionless 'depravity' all that the witch-burning brotherhood did to women through history.
Let's look at the attributes traditionally assigned to the realm of the Crab.
Body: The Chest and Womb; the Emotions
Time Of Day: Noon - 2pm
Time Of Year: Summer Solstice - High Summer
Fourth House: The Home; Farming; The Great Mother; One's Mother; The Tomb; Dwelling of the Ancestors
Element: Cardinal Water
Tarot Arcana: 7, The Chariot
Cancer the Crab represents the womb, the tomb and the Great Mother. The earliest cultures - more mass-conscious or tribe-minded, were, as-we'll witness, powerfully influenced by this sign - all things related to the Earth come under Cancer: farming; building (including defensive structures); real estate; ecology; geology. It is a sign of fertility and pregnancy, of young children before they have individuated; the sign of the subconscious mind that is the place-of-dreams, as-well-as the place-of-nightmares.
Cancer governs or rules the 4th-house sector in a chart - the home, where you live, feel, intuit.... it is the gut-feelings, instincts, inner-motivations.
The subconscious mind makes up an estimated 92% of the total brain-space. The conscious mind comprises the remaining 8%. The conscious mind doesn't begin to develop until the age of three and it is not fully developed until about the age of 20.
The conscious mind is puny compared to the power of the subconscious.
The thing-is - the subconscious mind doesn't know the difference between real and imagined - relying on sensory input. It responds to reality and imagination the same way. When you dream of a monster, your body responds the same as if the monster were real. The 'fight or flight' mechanism kicks-in and pumps adrenalin into the blood stream, and your body responds by sweating, increased heart rate, etc. In reality, there was no monster and no threat.
The subconscious mind has limited vocabulary and is not articulate with words - we do not dream in words. The subconscious communicates predominantly with images and feelings - is not logical, is the feeling mind - It is the source of love, hatred, anguish, fear, jealousy, sadness, anger, joy, desire, etc. When you say, I feel... the source of the feeling is the subconscious mind, down-there in your belly, where you live.
This sign is symbolised by - and as - the tarot arcana of the Chariot. This is a deeper symbol than it might appear to-be at first-glance. My interpretation of the card relates the symbol to the British landscape and the entity within-it, for I truly feel it lies-behind all systems of philosophy and symbolism - honest guv'.
It's easy to see why when you look at the card and the elements on-it. The charioteer sits beneath a canopy of six-pointed stars - this is an accurate-enough representation of the situation - our bairn also sits beneath the canopy of stars. The crescent moons on his shoulders relate to the real Moon which, in our landscape, rises out-of the big-baby's shoulders, otherwise called The Wash. The symbols on his tunic are alchemical signs representing transformation. The square signifies earth.
The laurel and star crown clearly speak-of our landscape and the crown on 'its' head. There is a Hindu sign representing the union of positive and negative, Sun and Moon. The black and white sphinxes reiterate the meaning. There are wings on the chariot too that suggest someone has the power-of-flight - and the power of inspiration. The charioteer holds no reins, just the wand which represents his will-power - he controls through strength of mind. The city behind him indicates that all-of-civilization follows in his train.
The symbol for the sign represents the pincers of a crab, but Cancer has been represented as various beasties with an exoskeleton that live in water.
In ancient Egypt the sign was called Scarabaeus (scarab), and the scarab was the sacred emblem of immortality. In Babylonia the constellation was known as MUL.AL.LUL, a name which can refer to both a crab and a snapping turtle (having-already-looked I have-to-tell-you that we'll have reason-to-look at the Scottish Hebride's isle called Mull, later)
During the month when the Sun, Moon and planets rise in Cancer, it's the chest as-well-as that big-old-head of the landscape infant that is - as it was in Gemini - being 'energised' by the cosmic-influences flowing through the sign of the crab. The shell of a crab - a hard-box containing soft, spongy flesh - is an appropriate analogy for the skull, methinks. Y'see, that's what I mean when I say the landscape is educating me. Whilst astrology teaches that the rib-cage is a chest, it doesn't, in the usual-course of things, teach that the skull is too. But the landscape speaks-loud.
The contents within the shell of the skull are floating in an ocean of cerebro-spinal fluids - like a sea-sponge floating in the sea. The ocean's-tides are analogous to human-emotions and these emotional-tides - the ebb-and-flow, surge, tsunami, are influenced, controlled by the Moon - they are the ocean in which you live.
The sea-sponge of your brain is enclosed-within the crab-shell of your skull, as the muscle which-is your heart is within the crab-shell of your ribs.
But as you can see - viewed-from the Hinge the 'cone' of the crab's influence passes right-through the womb and ovaries, the rib-cage and chest of our Hermaphrodite-baby, on the way to its hermaphrodite-head.
Assuming that you've read the previous instalments in this series, you'll know what we're doing - looking at the places and place-names within the zone attributed to Cancer, and gathering little snippets of info' about each-place selected, then assembling a sort-of scrap-book and seeing how it 'speaks' to us.
So, I stuck 13 pins (the Moon's digits) in the map within the cone, and the first place-name that drew my attention was Ludgershall, Wiltshire. Wassit-mean?
Experts will probably opt for the easy answer and tell you that this place was named after a bloke called Mr Ludge who built a big-house. Time-and-again this 'personal-name' solution is offered as an explanation for the meaning of place-names the experts can't fathom - it's a dead-cert winner, every-time. No-one can argue against it, can they?
Well.... I'm the only-bugger I've heard-of who's arguing with them. They're just trying to fit-in with the other-buggers who know sod-all - but I don't fit-in with them. I'm an astrologer, as you know, and that makes ME and my knowledge about the landscape irrelevant, meaningless, valueless.
Back to Ludgershall - what's a 'ludger' then? Hmm.... I do-believe that this place-name must-be based on the old-word for a postern-gate, a 'ludgaet' in Anglo Saxon. I say it must be based on that word because Cancer is known as the Northern Gate of the Sun, innit.
What's a postern-gate? I looked in Wikipedia and found this: postern is a secondary door or gate, particularly in a fortification such as a city wall or castle curtain wall. Posterns were often located in a concealed location, allowing the occupants to come and go inconspicuously. In the event of a siege, a postern could act as a sally port, allowing defenders to make a sortie on the besiegers.
Real-estate, buildings, homes - these are the archetypes governed or transmitted by the sign of the crab - he who carries his home with him. Defensive-structures are also governed by the crab, for fairly obvious-reasons - the crab's (or turtle's) shell is a castle, a shield against harm from without - and those over-sized pincers the crab waves about are mostly for-show - are used to communicate - to send-signals - more-often than to fight.
The tarot-image of a warrior in a chariot is fulfilled by the Wiltshire town - it's right-on the edge of the plane of Salisbury so the army has old connections here, and today uses the depot here as a storage-area for military-vehicles, that'll be chariots. The War Office transferred the Army Medical Store to Ludgershall, and the army depots were built during WW2. As we'll see later, medicine is one-of-the-themes to be found recurring in this sign. The US army came here and assembled their Dunkirk invasion fleet (also a recurring motif: fleets and ships). The depot is now the base for the 26th Engineer Regiment, Royal Engineers. They have a large number of warehouses which hold hundreds of military-chariots ranging from Land Rovers to heavily armoured vehicles. The test tracks and old parade ground behind the depot are used for vehicle storage, army exercises and practice driving areas.
Claire and the poor-ladies
Highclere - pronounced high clare - with its humongous square-shaped castle is well-in the crabby-zone of the landscape. Squares and boxes are a symbol of the Great-Goddess and her womb - as well as the universe, our collective home. Charles Barry, the architect who remodelled the House of Parliament, also 'did' Highclere. I mention that here because Charles Barry pops-up again later.
Castles are chests - defensive casements within-which soft, organic things are protected.
Claire is a woman's name. St Claire was one of the followers of Francis of Assisi. She founded the Order of Poor Ladies, a monastic order for women in the Franciscan tradition, and wrote their Rule of Life - the first monastic rule written by a woman.
In the fresco-panel of Claire and the sisters her halo looks distinctly like la lune, rising over our landscape-head, don't you think?
High Wycombe was called Chepping Wycombe or Chipping Wycombe until 1946 - first documented in 970, as Wicumun. 'Wic' is a perfectly Cancerian place-name. It means dwelling, house, castle, fortress. The suffix 'mund' continues the themes we've seen so-far - 'mund' is protection, security and guardianship.
'Chipping,' added to Wicumun, has no exact match in Anglo Saxon - 'cipp' pronounced chip being the word. In our olde tongue it means purchase, sale, bargain, cheap, goods, possessions, property, signifying Wicumun had become a market town. According to Wikipedia, High Wycomb has always been involved in furniture production. I'd bet a penny-or-two that boxes and chests were a big-part of that.
Next in the cone of Cancer is Aylesbury, Æglesburgh originally. There's no precise match for that prefix.... the experts reckon, as usual, it was the personal-name of some local big-boots, and he put-up-a-sign saying 'this is the Fort of Aegel,' and there are, as usual, no records of any such geezer. I've opted for 'ae*elu' or something equally un-transcribable in the modern-fonts available to me.
Anyroad, it means family, origin, descent, produce and growth.
The suffix 'Burgh' signifies a fortress or defensive space.
In name-alone Aylesbury spells-out all of the themes with which the sign of the crab is associated. But there's more to the place than its name. It is the burial-place of a very-saintly woman - St Osyth.
She was the daughter of a Mercian king and was forced by him, as was the custom, into a marriage that she didn't want - she wanted to be a nun, y'see. But, she did her duty and married this king from Essex, like daddy wanted, and she has a little baby boy by this king. Well, her fella was a bit-of-a-lad, and he goes off hunting with the boys - looking for some fabled white-stag and she thinks 'bugger him and his stag, I'm off to be a nun,' and she legs-it. Of course this caused all-kinds of aggravation but she becomes a nun anyway and eventually she founds a nunnery.
Then one-fine-day along comes the bleedin' Vikings and chop her nut-off. Stone-the-soddin'-crows! Didn't bother her too much though, did it? She goes and picks-up her head off the deck and strolls-off to have a word with the local vicar, knocks on the church-door and drops-dead. Blood everywhere, what a mess.
People having their nuts lopped-off is a theme that recurs many-times in this sign - the victims don't always pick-up their heads and walk-off, but a few of them do.
Hemel Hempstead was in the Domesday as Hamelamesede.
'Ham' and 'hama' are, as we've seen already, home and womb, highly Cancerian without a doubt. 'Lam,' the second-syllable isn't woolly and bleating - 'lam' is loam, clay, soil - this is the sign of farming and the land. The land is, after-all, a dark-womb where things germinate and grow. The final syllable, 'sede' is that very seed that will germinate in the womb.
Baldock.... I'm immediately put-in-mind of Sheila na gig, she was bald, y'see...
Baldock used-to-be a bit of a nightmare - a place to be avoided if you were in any-kind of chariot. Daniel Defoe passed through Baldock and commented:
Here is that famous Lane call'd Baldock Lane, famous for being so unpassable, that the Coaches and Travellers were oblig'd to break out of the Way even by Force, which the People of the Country not able to prevent, at length placed Gates, and laid their lands open, setting Men at the Gates to take a voluntary Toll, which Travellers always chose to pay, rather than plunge into Sloughs and Holes, which no Horse could wade through.
There was once a film-processing plant built in Baldock, but before the company moved-into it they went-outa-business. So the nice art-deco building became the Full-Fashioned Hosiery Company, and then after that it became the Kayser Bondor ladies stocking factory - and during the war they produced chariots of a different-kind - parachutes. But now it supplies the people of Baldock with the produce of the land - it's a supermarket today.
On the subject of Sheila na gig again, she with the bald head and gaping vagina - her ribs were notably bony, and as this is the sign of the chest, and around this part of the landscape godess, in the very-region of those ribs, we might expect to find something-or-other in the natural-features of the land itself that suggests those bony-ribs - you'd think-so, wouldn't ya? Well.... guess what? - ever heard of the River Rib, in Hertfordshire? The Rib!
I digress now, a little - but it's relevant. The first woman, Eve in the Garden of Eden, was made from Adam's rib. Here in Hertfordshire ('hert' = heart) are three 'Garden City's' - and enclosed or walled-garden is the literal transliteration of the word paradise.
Biggleswade, say the experts, was named after some chieftain called Biceil for whom no record exists. It's more-likely, if you ask me, to have been named 'byrga' or 'byrgen,' 'cos those are the words meaning to bury, raise a mound, inter - and tomb, sepulchre grave.... and this is, of course, the sign of the womb and the tomb. That word 'byrga' also means security and protection.
Soham is a rather interesting place-name... it's actually a Sanskrit word - in Sanskrit it means 'I myself.' In our old tongue though it continues the theme of wombs and seeds seen above. 'Ham' is womb and/or land, and 'so' is to sew.
Guist is one of those interesting place-names too - this seems-to refer to whomever it is in that darkened-home - 'guist' is a guest.
Mundford has that 'mund' in-it, as seen earlier - protection, guardianship, etc; the palm of the hand (as a measure) - a bride-price, and a bridegroom's gift to his bride.
Feltwel sounds like a statement regarding one's state-of-health. But 'feld' the prefix means open or cultivated land - and that's perfectly Cancerian, isn't it. It also signifies the site of a battle, a battle-field, also perfectly Cancerian in that that's the place to see chariots. 'Wel' meant something slightly-different to the ancients than it does to us - abundantly, fully, easily, very, very easily, everywhere.
Burnham Market is one of a collection of villages in the area with the same name of Burnham. 'Bur' is a bower, apartment, chamber, dwelling. A 'bur' was also a farmer, a son-of-the-soil. I shouldn't need to explain the meaning of 'ham,' so I won't.
Fakenham - faking something? It makes sense of course, because faking or pretending are deliberate, conscious attempts at giving a false-impression - an act of deception. These are acts of the subconscious.... Fakenham is inside a huge angel's skull. Not only-that, Cancer's ruler, the Moon, is a shape-shifting, illusive and deceptive symbol in itself.
'Faegan' is the only group of similar-words in the dictionary - meaning joy. Cognate words suggest rejoicing; being glad, happiness etc. These are fleetingly-lunar moods, feelings, expressions. As the sign associated with the womb, perhaps this happiness is due to a little passenger growing in there?
This is also the sign of the tomb, and Fakenham's 'faege' also relates to that - 'faege' means doomed-to-death, fated and dead. I'll paste another page from the dictionary here so you can see it for yourself.
Of course and as always, there are thousands and thousands of other villages and towns within this cone governed by the sign of the crab, and with enough time and patience we could keep-going up-and-down the countryside between the Hinge and the top of the head of our cherub endlessly. But we've gotta move-on.
We'll nip-down to the ankle-joint of our winged-one, Canterbury in other-words, and have a quick-look at the alignment from there. I say a quick-look because we've been this-way before, if you recall...? The northern alignment from Canterbury was where this whole investigation began, some decades-ago (see part 1, Whitstable), and I don't like repeating myself too much if I can help-it.
The Cone Of Moonlight
This is the mother line - it revealed itself to me gradually, over decades, and it was the silver-thread that led-me into the labyrinth that is the landscape of Britain. 'Laby-rinth' is based-on the word for the labia - the entrance tunnel into the great-mystery - and something to-do with the females....
I ingested - over those decades of 'landscape- discovery' - an awful-lot of liberty-cap mushrooms at various locations all-along the mother-line. The lunar-influence of the sign imprinted itself on-me - as a child I played in the woods, climbing-and-playing atop tumuli so-massive they were invisible, and I attracted little-old-ladies who told me things that still echo in my subconscious - about the hills and trees, about me, about-life, death and reincarnation.
Then, in my twenties and thirties I started to become quite-obsessed with the hills, the forests, the pathways between-them (as kids we called them temptation-paths - we were scared-of-them), the old-churches along-the-way, the weird atmosphere in certain parts of the woods, the inexplicable events we witnessed (I won't go into that now - but weird-shit).
Are these 'alignments' in the landscape ley-lines? I ask-myself.
Then I ask myself - what IS a ley-line? Because if we're going-along with the 'discoverer' of these ancient-alignments, Alfred Watkins, a 'ley' is an alignment of 'sacred' architecture and artefacts over and across vast-tracts of the British landscape - nothing-more than that.
I don't think that Alf' had any suspicions or ideas that - as modern investigators like-myself tend-to feel - some 'energy' of an unknown kind pulses and flows along the alignments. If it were measurable we'd know, but because it's an 'unknown,' it cannot be measured.
It's a bit-like the wind blowing on the surface of water - the invisible becomes visible, waves and ripples form. We do not entertain the notion that waves and ripples form themselves unaided. We know that the wind is the cause, and the waves are the effect.
My conviction is that the 'effects' of the unknown-energies in the alignments, are precisely the things I've been laying-out before you. They are cultural effects, political effects, physiological effects - simply too subtle to be measured on a dial or meter.
The most interesting theory for-my-money is the suggestion that ley-lines are something-like acupuncture meridians in the human-being - it's worth remembering that acupuncture and its' meridians and bio-electricity were thoroughly dismissed by Western-orthodoxy; exactly as ley-lines and 'holistic-energies' surging-along-them, are today. But denial doesn't alter-a-thing - acupuncture is not so easy-to-dismiss as once-it-was, the day-dawned. The time is coming for ley-lines.
We in England live-within the physiology of a huge-bewinged, hermaphrodite entity, don't we? (yes we do) Ley-lines then, can now be understood for what they really are - bioelectrical-meridians.
Watkins' named the alignments 'leys,' apparently because 'ley' is the old-English word for field, thus; according to the cognoscente a 'ley-line' is nothing more-than a 'field-line.' To which I say poo. As far as this navel-gazer's concerned it means something-else entirely. In Anglo Saxon, the word for a pasture or field was in fact spelt 'leah.' Spelt the way Watkins' spelt it, it's closer to the word 'lea,' and that's a reference to Leo, the zodiac-sign. This has more appropriate ramifications - Leo is ruled-by the Sun, giver of life and light, fountain-head of energy-rivers that flood through our solar-system.
In that case then, they are lion-lines. However, in the human-form the meridians have positive (+) and negative (-) channels - Sun and Moon, Yin and Yang, male and female, and I believe that the same energetic arrangements exist in the lion-lines. In which case, some of them can rightly be called lion-lines, and others turtle or crab-lines. I believe that careful-study of our giant-bewinged-baby and the alignments within its form, will reveal which alignments are male, and which are female, which solar, which lunar.
The ankle-joint, or the ruins of St Augustine's Abbey are where this whole thing 'emanates-from,' there are three standing-stones there (only two extant) though I suspect there may-have been-more - perhaps twelve? The remaining stones were incorporated-into the fabric of the abbey - the Christians had a thing about 'pagan-idols,' and so-forth.
And here we are at the very-heart of English Christianity - Canterbury - and it's no real-surprise there are virtually no prehistoric megaliths, nor circles, nor stones left, in the whole of Kent. Orthodox historians will, no-doubt, deny there were ever any such-things here at-all.
But the land speaks louder than they. Canterbury has the ecclesiastic-importance that it does because the site was so important to the pre-Romans and their ancestors - they knew about the big-one, and they knew where they were - at the crux, the cantilever, the ankle-joint, and they knew that the whole-world could be moved from here.
I imagine that ancient Kent was on the shopping-list of every megalomaniac king and would-be emperor on the face of the globe - possess Canterbury and you can rule-the-world.
This alignment - being lunar - would be of a female-type energy, lunar in nature, and specifically 'tuned' to the sign of the womb and tomb, Cancer the crab.
house of god
I'll give the minutiae a little-more attention than I usually-do.
Beginning at the beginning, in St Augustine's Abbey (the ruins thereof), the alignment runs along the compass bead north, meeting with Havelock Street and its junction with Monastery Street.
In those far-off days of ancient yore, the female aspect of God was emphasised over the male, and it's always the names we use to describe our 'religious' buildings, that reveals this truth. For example, the word 'monastery' in Monastery Street tends to make us think of tonsured monks - brothers rather than sisters, but I believe that the word comes from two Anglo-Saxon words, 'Mona,' one of the many names attributed to she who waxes and wanes above us in the heavens at night, la lune, Mona the Moon. The suffix, 'stery' is from A.S. 'staer,' a narrative, story and history. Welded back-together the word 'mona-stery' means the history and story regarding Mona, the Moon.
And, like St Augustine's Abbey and all ecclesiastic constructions - the actual physical pile-of-rocks, the monastery - fits the feminine, Cancerian pattern, for a church or other religious building is a 'house' of god.
In support of these notions I'll just remind-you that the word 'cathedral' - the 'throne-of-a-bishop' - derives directly from the Latin word 'cathedra,' an ancient type of couch or seat made specifically for a woman.
Following on we run around the city wall parallel with what used to be the moat, and cross Bridge Street.
Due to the fact that there's never, in all of Canterbury's long history, been a bridge on or even near Bridge Street, I'm duty-bound to suggest this ancient street is named after the triple goddess of the moon (the virgin, the pregnant maiden and the hag), variously named Bride, Bridget, Brigantia, Brigid, Brigit, Brigandu, and Brighid, meaning 'Exalted One.'
She was worshipped all over prehistoric Britain right up until Christian times, being so popular among the folk that she was absorbed into the Christian mythos, becoming, to the Irish at least, Saint Bridget, the midwife to the Virgin Mary, and she was called upon for assistance in childbirth.
She was also the 'alma mater' or Mother Of Alms - her priestesses were known for their generosity to the poor and sick. She was/is best contacted or propitiated at healing-wells.
And, up the street what do we find? Only a healing-well and an ancient hospital. The peaceful gardens of the healing shrine at St John's Hospital backs right onto the sacred River Stour. To me, this suggests by inference that there was once probably a shrine to Brigit here. And the thing about John's 'special-day' - St John's Day - is that it's celebrated on the Summer Solstice, the first day of Cancer. And the name of the street on which the hospital stands is Northgate - Cancer was known in the olden-days as the Northern Gate of the Sun.
A reader who lives at the shrine today, Louisa, e-mailed me to tell me about a peculiar spot in the gardens.... there's a circular-stone laid-into a path in a secluded area, and when you stand-upon it you become enveloped in a type-of force-field (for want of a better word) that sounds can't get through - you stand on the spot and everything goes-quiet! Even the sound of traffic is dimmed. Weird!
It was about 1070 when - on the Crusades - a hospice was established in Jerusalem by monks. It developed into a hospital. It developed into a religious and military order, with its brothers and sisters (Knights Hospitallers) providing care to the poor and sick of any faith. They took on the role of defending Christians when they were threatened.
In 1530 they moved to Malta, where their medical work continued. The hospital had separate wards for infectious disease and maternity care. They ran a health service for the Maltese people and set up a school of anatomy and surgery. Then along comes Napoleon and boots them out, in 1798.
From the beginning the Order was given land throughout Europe. Its estates were managed by small groups of brothers and sisters who lived in communities that were gradually gathered into Grand Priories. From about 1140 these were administered from Clerkenwell.
In 1540 the Order was suppressed by Henry VIII - then restored by Mary in 1557. And then Elizabeth I confiscated its estates in 1559.
Radigund at home
Queen Betha (she that really brought Christianity to England) had a saintly-grandma called Radigund and she is name-checked - St Radigund Street. In the olden-days, due to the proximity of the river, this was the traditional site of the local bath-house, marked on old-maps of the city as St Radigund's Bath.
William Gostling 1825: We now have nothing to attract our notice till we come to Northgate, except that we cross a street parallel to the city wall, which on the right hand, is continued almost to the bak of the river, and, on the left quite as far as the castle and St. Mildred's postern. That part on the right hand is called Duck lane, and leads to St. Radegund's bath, a fine spring, built over, and fitted for cold bathing; the basin or bath itself being twenty feet long, eleven feet wide, and from three to four feet deep.* A dwelling house adjoins to it of modern structure, but in altering a very ancient one, near the bath, some hollows or pipes were discovered, carried along in the thickness of an old stone wall, which seemed a contrivance for heating the room in former times, and making a sudatory or sweating room of it. Some years ago this house being a public house, and the owner of it a city magistrate, a new postern was broken through the city wall for a way to it, which is not mentioned in my survey of the wall, because the bath house being in the suburb, and this postern made purely for the convenience of it, this seems the most proper place to mention it. The city wall here is seven feet thick.
St Radigunds Street is connected to Broad Street, which is not very broad at all, suggesting the name has nothing to do with the width of the road, but probably plenty to do with the width of a pregnant woman. 'Broad' has much to do with our goddess and her getting knocked-up, and not just for the size thing. In Anglo Saxon 'broad' is 'brod' which means brood (offspring), and breed. A few hundred yards along the road we enter an area of housing that was built after the 2nd World War - square, box-shaped maisonettes, a signature of the goddess and her chests, containers, cells, cysts, etc, etc. Another signature of hers is a little-more obviously stated - several-dozen of her chests stand upon the streets named Alma Street and Alma Place.
In the olden-days, this area where these new cuboid-homes were built was the army barracks - defence being another Cancerian concern, of course. Back-then any assault on the old-city would have come from the north, down the River Stour from the Wansum Channel. When attack finally-came, it came from the sky, and there was little defence against the Luftwaffe's bombs. The old-barracks were razed - but their 'spirit' lives-on in the street-names and in the names of the individual maisonette-blocks.
They stand sentinel on Military Road, Artillery Street and Artillery Gardens. There's a block called Wemyss House - must-be named after that WW1 Naval Commander, surely - 1st sea-lord an' all-that? Yeah, 1st Baron Wester Wemyss, had naval-battles in the Med' and Egypt - tough-old-bird. Then there's Anzio House and Malta House, blocks named-after those far-away scenes of 2nd World-War naval, aerial and land battles which the people's of the World, and the peoples of Kent, were involved in - defending the world against Fascist monsters. And though these battles were fought far-away from home, they were, in-the-end, all-about defending 'home,' that being Britain.
Continuing north we head across what used to be the Kings-mead, and is still called Kingsmead, an open-area, where today stands a public swimming-pool - pools were once commonly called 'baths,' - it's a highly appropriate spot to put-it, just across the river from St Radigund's Baths and the holy-healing-well at St John's Hospital.
Generally-speaking, we've been informed by the experts that a 'mead' is the olde English word for a field or pasture full of flowers and herbs. In one-sense that's entirely correct - in fact it's a metaphoric description meaning pleasant, agreeable - and a pasture full of flowers is certainly that. But like most words in the English tongue there's more-than one meaning. 'Mead' also means reward, price, compensation, pay, bribe, gift - and of course 'mead' is an alcoholic-brew of honey - made from the nectar on the flowers in the mead. In those senses then, Kingsmead says the kings reward, the kings price etc, etc. This is another description of 'mund,' seen earlier as bridegrooms gift to bride's father, and bride-price, an ancient practice continued in some cultures to this day.
We leave the The king's-mead - still following the needle on the compass, and cross St Stephens Road and Lane, entering Malthouse Lane. We'll have-a-look-at St Stephen in a moment when we get to the church named-after him, a little farther up-the-road. I want to investigate the meaning of 'malthouse' first.
Firstly, 'malt' is, like 'broad' of Broad Street, a slang term for a maid or maiden - a malt - to my mind, house-of-malt is a reference to the Great Mother Goddess. Malt is derived from steeped grain, which is our second reference to alcoholic-beverages, and the first to the grain-goddess, another name for the triple-goddess. The second part of the place-name, 'house', is, as mentioned a dozen times at-least, specifically related to this sign of the crab, who carries his house on his back.
We'll cross the rail-tracks here and continue northwards along St Stephen's Road to St Stephen's Church.
St Stephen was known as the proto-martyr, being the first Christian (after J.C.) to willingly go to his death for his beliefs, whatever they were. He was one of the 'seven-men' (note the number 7) of the Christian Church and it was his official-duty to give alms to elderly widows. Hmm.... alms to elderly widows - you couldn't get more appropriate than that, could you?
In the grave-yard around the old building are a great-many timber grave-markers - I've put a pic of one here - beautifully-carved knot-work and a higher-than-is-usual number of chalices or grails, also carved in timber. Many have rotted-away now but female-symbology clearly abounded and still abounds in this field-of-the-dead.
The church is so old no-one knows when it was built - it's got pieces of Roman brickwork and pieces of Saxon and pieces of Norman - the rumour is - according to the vicar - it was going-to-be the Cathedral but they changed their mind. Any road, it's typically Goddess influenced as the tower is more square than most, distinctly box-like with massive buttresses, clearly designed for a more-massive structure.
St Stephen's stands on an ancient cross-roads where an ancient inn stands - Ye Olde Beverlie. It started-life as the church-warden's cottage, attached to a terrace of almshouses. According to well-informed rumour, the green and crossroads was also the place - without the city-walls - of the gallows-tree.
Cross-roads were chosen as the place to hang miscreants long-before Christianity and its' symbols came-on the scene - the place where two ways-cross is the symbolic meeting-place of two-worlds, where the living cross-over to death, where the dead may cross-over into the world of the living.
Cross Road Blues
I went down to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
I went down to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above "Have mercy, save poor Bob, if you please."
Mmmmm, standin' at the crossroad, I tried to flag a ride
Standin' at the crossroad, I tried to flag a ride
Didn't nobody seem to know me, everybody pass me by
Mmm, the sun goin' down, boy, dark gon' catch me here
Oooo, ooee, eee boy, dark gon' catch me here
I haven't got no lovin' sweet woman that love and feel my care
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy, Willie Brown.
You can run, tell my friend-boy, Willie Brown.
Lord, that I'm standin' at the crossroad, babe, I believe I'm sinking down.
By Robert Johnson
Heading north again we ascend St Stephen's Hill. On the prow of the hill in a field an ancient tile-kiln was unearthed in the sheep-pasture. The archaeologists tell-us that these tile-works over-looking the Cathedral supplied the materials that built much of the ancient city - roof-tiles, floor tiles (glazed and unglazed) chimney-pots etc, etc. There were kilns all over this area - one was uncovered when they built Darwin College on the university here and one is still unexcavated in nearby Timber Wood. The one in the field on the hill was manufacturing for some 600 years.
I'm drawing your attention to these kilns because of what they were doing - building houses, the province of Cancer. Tiles, of course, are the outer-covering, the hard-shell protecting the vulnerable soft parts inside.
The village of Tyler Hill and the university are in the parish of Hackington. I looked-up 'hack' in the Anglo Saxon dictionary, and found 'haca' - it means hook, door-fastening. Hmm... a means to close and secure a door.... certainly 'house' and 'home' related. We have to keep-in-mind that Cancer is the sign of the womb and tomb too - these are the other houses that we all occupy at some-time in our experience of human-embodiment - and these are the 'doors' we all have to pass through. Also worth remembering is the ancient name for the sign of the crab - the northern-gate of the Sun, and gates, of course, have hooks to secure them.
This tiny village has two church-buildings and a pub called the Ivy House. Ivy is of course, a woman's-name suggesting that ivy (the-plant) is a female-creature - ivy is a woman. The name is an ancient term describing a pub - ivy was used by the ancient brewers in this land before hops were grown. Wine comes from the grapevine - a species of ivy. In the ancient view of things, all plants that cling to others in order to climb - the hop and grape-vine - were called ivy.
Ivy contains the Roman numeral IV as it's first two letters, which is the number 4 - Cancer is the 4th sign. Ivy symbolizes eternity. Greek and Roman societies admired the ivy for its hardiness and longevity. They believed the plant aided fertility. Ivy started as a symbol of eternal life in the Pagan world and then came to represent new promise and eternal life in the Christian world. The plant has a lot of spiritual meaning, being considered a symbol of woman, and if put together with Holly (the symbol of man) at Christmas, it would bring peace in a home between a husband and wife.
Ivy is a symbol of vibrancy - the druids admired its bright green hue. Ivy has symbolism of connections and relationship because of its propensity to interweave in growth. Ever furrowing and intertwining, the ivy is an example of the twists and turns our relationships take - but also a testimony to the long-lasting connections and bonds we form that can last for years.
The ivy has an amazing ability to grow in challenging environments - it's incredibly durable and can withstand the harshest conditions. It's also a symbol of survival and determination for the same reasons. It seems to be virtually indestructible and will often return after it has suffered damage or has been severely cut back. This is an example of the human spirit and the strength we all have to carry on regardless of how harrowing the setbacks may have been.
Ivy grows in the shape of a spiral, and most ivy has five-pointed leaves which makes it a symbol of protection, signifying the harmony of the elements unified by common bonding energy.
There's a long-line of natural-springs and wells in the fields of Well Court Farm, behind the houses - these were of some obvious importance in the tile-making process, and presumably in the minds of the ancient standing-stone erectors. I don't know how-many remain, but standing-stones once dotted the fields, laid-out, I think, in a north-south orientation. A few still exist though - they stand in the gardens of the brick-boxes that now share their landscape, almost forgotten.
Signs that suggest the midsummer association of this alignment are in the place-names, as usual. There's Summer Lane and St John's Crescent. Summer Solstice is St John's Day, as I've mentioned before, and crescents are very-much of the Moon.
In late fifteenth-century England, John Mirk wrote: "...in worship of St John the Baptist, men stay up at night and make three kinds of fires: one is of clean bones and no wood and is called a 'bonnefyre'; another is of clean wood and no bones, and is called a wakefyre, because men stay awake by it all night; and the third is made of both bones and wood and is called, "St. John's fire."
These traditions ended after the Reformation, persisting in rural areas up until the nineteenth century.
The theme of holy-people having their head chopped-off makes its presence felt in this sign - St John, you'll remember, was chucked in Herod's dungeon and had his bonce chopped-off, and presented on a platter to Herod - it was the only way Herod could persuade Salome to dance for him. I've mentioned that because of the dedication of the chapel on the bend, to St Damien and St Cosmus.
Saints Cosmas and Damian are the patrons of physicians and surgeons and are sometimes represented with medical emblems. Their veneration was pretty-popular all-over Europe, at one time.
Sir William Hamilton (1730 - 1803) reported that, among the wax representations of body parts then presented as offerings to the two doctor saints, near Naples, on their feast day, those of the penis were the most common. They were in fact venerated as patrons of 'young girls anxious for a husband, and married women desirous of children.'
During the persecution under Diocletian, Cosmas and Damian were arrested by order of the Prefect, one Lysias, who ordered them to recant, under torture. According to their legend they refused, and were hung on a cross, stoned and shot with arrows, and then they had their noggin's chopped-off.
This symbol of the beheading is not, however, found exclusively in this sign, it shows up in other Cardinal-signs too (Cancer is Cardinal). The reason it shows-up so persistently in Cancer is (I've worked-out) due-to the Solstice - the reversal of the Suns progress from north to south is symbolised as a head falling-off and dropping to the ground. The fact that during the Cancerian season the Sun actually rises over a gigantic-head (viewed from the Hinge), helps to explain this ancient symbol quite lucidly.
It's possible nowadays to walk or cycle to the next marker on the map (above) due to the nice-new Crab and Winkle Cycle-Path - to the Tumuli. I have to tell-you, you'll never find them. They're forested-over with the Thornden Wood Forestry Commission evergreen-tree-plantation. In former centuries these burial-hills would have been bare, and dominated the horizon.
It was whilst sitting atop one-of-the-tumuli with my back-against an ancient Holly-Tree that I began to see glimpses of this alignment - and its themes - for the first time. I had eaten magic-mushrooms and I was just... tuned-in to the world in a way I divined was shamanic. The land spoke to me. I saw. And I couldn't speak-of-it. It was beyond my descriptive powers. I learned to write and draw maps - these are the results.
It took me some five-or-six years to discover that these hills were tumuli - I was poring-over an Ordnance Survey map when I saw the label on the map, realised then that that tumuli was the precise-spot where I'd sat and seen. Excitedly I took the map and went to visit my-mate and pointed it out to him - he'd been on that tumuli with me many times, eating mushrooms and witnessing weird-shit with me. He was pretty wowed by the revelation too. Even more wowed was he, when I put a ruler on the map, drew a pencil-line from St Augustine's Abbey to The Street in Tankerton Bay, and it passed right through the tumulus. That, says he, is a ley-line mate.
No shit, Sherlock, I replied.
I realised pretty-early on that one of the major 'keys' to unlocking the door marked 'mystery' in the English landscape, was the reinterpretation of already 'solved' place-names. The location of the tumuli (seven of them), in Thornden Wood is a case-in-point, it was one of the first place-names I attempted to understand. A 'den' spelt 'denn' in Anglo Saxon, is a lair or a cave - and a 'thorn' is, on the one-hand, one of the three fairy-trees - hawthorn was regarded as one of three 'doors' that permitted access to the other-world - oak and ash the other two. And on the other-hand thorn is a protective mechanism that defends the plant from damage. Defence of an enclosed-area and a door to the Otherworld. You can probably understand why this intrigued me - here's a massive ancient burial-site and a door to the Otherworld. Allied to this, the name of the adjoining woods, Clowes Wood, began to convince me there was something in this toponymy (the interpretation of place-names). In former days the woodland was called Cluse Woods. In Anglo-Saxon a 'cluse' was a bar, bolt, cell, enclosure. You see what I mean? Clowes/Cluse is in the parish of Hackington the door-hook. Attached to Clowes and Thornden is Radfall Woods. 'Rad,' the prefix, means road, and 'fall' the suffix, relates to the fallen, the dead. As a whole then, Radfall is a sign that says, this is the road of the dead.
These place-names were buzzing-about in my mind - I realised they were a vastly misinterpreted and under-used resource. I believe that the reason they are so under-used is that orthodoxy thinks they are virtually meaningless... and taken out of their correct context - the zodiac - they are meaningless. In the words of a very well-educated friend, the experts have got their heads stuck-up their own arse holes, and that's why all they see is the crap that they've swallowed.
Crab and Winkle Way
There are seven little-springs emerging in Thornden and Clowes Woods, that join-up as they trickle down the slopes into a single, bubbling-brook. The brook wends it's meandering way through the farm-land called Brooklands and then through the narrow-strip of remaining, deciduous woodland that dangles its roots in the brook to drink its mystically-charged waters. The name of the woods? Let's play 'spot-the-theme' - it's called..... wait-for-it.... Convicts Wood.
Local historians maintain that it acquired this name because, they aver, during the Napoleonic Wars, French prisoners who'd escaped from Canterbury Jail hid-out here in the woods, apparently wading along the brook's bed heading for the open-sea, to be picked-up by lord-knows who.
I of course happen to believe that that's utter bull. It had the name Convicts Wood long, long before any convicts hid there, if they ever did. The reason I'm so confident in this, is because as I've demonstrated, it's part of a themed set of place-names - it doesn't stand-alone. We've seen Hackington's door-hook, Thornden's lair or cave, Clowes Woods' bolt, bar, cell, and here now are convicts - the people who occupy those cells.
Of course, these are references to the tumuli in the woods and their occupants, and the great Mother Goddess and her womb and tomb.
A peevish reader wrote me a rude e-mail telling-me I was making this stuff up. He suggested that there's only one tumulus in Clowes Woods because he can read an Ordnance Survey Map too and there is clearly only ONE tumulus marked on it. Doh!
I suppose then that the Forestry Commision's Ranger who oversaw the woodland's management (such as tree-felling and replanting) for over 25 years, didn't know what he was talking about when he told the archaeological-society about the other 6 tumuli he'd discovered beneath the trees? (as was his duty) And how he'd and they'd insisted these tumuli not be marked on publicly available maps, due to the fact that these tumuli remained un-opened and as-yet un-investigated by archaeologists.
I became privvy to the knowledge due to my personal-association with these woodlands and an archaeological-team who-were excavating an ancient farmstead close to Convicts Wood. When I told-them that I thought there were more tumuli in the woods than marked on the map, the head-archaeologist, recognising my knowledge and desire to leave-them pristine, agreed that there were and obligingly pointed-them-out on the skyline.
I kept him amused (if-not-fascinated) for some hours telling him about my 'mystic' experiences in the woods, and about these wacko theories I have.
I related that Convicts Wood and Radfall are in Chestfield, an ancient village noted for it's superb golf-course, where I worked as a trainee green-keeper when I were a lad of 18. Even then I knew there was something weird or odd about Chestfield Golf Course.
When I was a child the old lady down the street had pointed at the hill of Chestfield Golf Club and told-me that it was a giant's coffin. She said an ancient giant lay on his back beneath the trees, and the undulations in the sky-line were his various body-parts, lying just beneath the surface. She ran her old-finger along the horizon-line and said (pointing at the hill) there's his chest, pointing at the next rise (the tumulus) there's his belly, and, where the hills taper down to sea-level, and there's his legs.
A decade had passed by the time I was working on the course, driving the mowing machine over the undulating curves of the landscape - then one-day it hit-me right between the eyes. Wow! I thought, when Miss Leighton (the old lady) pointed at this hill I'm driving the mower up, she'd called this hill the giant's chest! O my gawd!! This village is called Chest-Field!!!
I have to tell you - my mind was blown and I nearly ran over a golfers ball. And of course, I was thinking of the thorax - ribs etc, not coffins. I realised much-later that chest is a deliberate and clever double-entendre, and both intentions are of the goddess, more specifically of the Cancerian-kind - a chest is a 'cluse,' a box, a coffin. (tomb) and the chest is the womb and the rib-cage. In short - the womb and tomb.
But there's more - after I'd swerved and missed that golfers-ball in the semi-rough, I nearly drove-into the oak-trees of the copse beside the fair-way. I've marked it on the map - when you look at the copse of oaks on the old Ordnance Survey map, not only is it shaped like a coffin, it's labelled Coffin Shaw. Back in the olde days the oaks in this 'shaw' (A.S. for a tightly-planted copse) were grown specifically for the use of the undertakers and mortuary attendants to make coffins. Would you Adam 'n Eve it?
Back to the direct alignment and the tumulus - from there it's a pleasant cycle-ride along the Crab and Winkle Way, along the street where I grew-up, South Street, Whitstable, past the house where I lived, by the bungalow where Miss Leighton lived, farther along the Crab and Winkle Way until we reach All Saints Church.
All Saints Church and the Monument - the pub across the road, were at the very-heart of the original, ancient settlement which was called Northwood long-before Whitstable as a place-name came into existence. There's a road in town called Northwood Road which remembers that old name - Cancer the crab is the northern - or northward gate of the Sun, you'll recall?
I notice that the pub-sign on the Monument features a ship, emblem of both womb and tomb.
In the graveyard is an impressive, cuboid, pyramidal mausoleum - final resting-place of Wynn Ellis. Wynn was a high-ranking Free-Mason who's remembered in the Tankerton street names, Wynn Road and Ellis Road. Mason's, of course, were originally those who constructed castles and churches - homes and defensive structures.
Wynn's life-story is slanted toward the female of the species. He was born in Hertfordshire in 1790 in July (Cancer), and after he moved to London he became a mercer (merchant of silk and linen), haberdasher and hosier. He created the biggest silk business in Britain, became very wealthy, and then he got-into buying houses (lots of them), and became even wealthier.
He became the MP for Leicester in 1831, lost his seat a few years later, then won it back again in 1839. He was an influential Liberal and strongly-advocated in Parliament for the total repeal of the corn-laws and free-trade generally.
He was married to a nice-lass with a typically goddess-name, Mary Maria of Lincoln - she slipped the mortal-coil in 1872, and was the first-one in the mausoleum. Across the street, next door to the Monument Pub, he built the alms-houses which are still there today, in her memory. When Wynn snuffed-it he was planted in the pyramid-too.
Well - the mausoleum is a bit special innit - it was designed by Wynn's pal, the great Charles Barry.
Ol' Charlie was the architect of the remodelling and reconstruction of the nations 'number-one house' - the Houses of Parliament. But he was into loads of that old stuff - big country-houses, mansions, art-galleries, libraries, theatres, hospitals, schools - you name it, Charles Barry did it - he did it big and he did it with a whole-lotta style (Italianate). That pile-of-stones we looked at earlier, Highclere - that was one of his jobs.
Right next-door to the church, over-the-road from the pub and the almshouses, is a cul-de-sac called Ivy House Road. That's the 2nd 'ivy-house' on this one, seven-mile alignment, what are the chances of that, eh?
Any-road, we'll pass right-by Ivy House Road and keep going north, toward the bay. On our right as we go along Castle Road is another 'summer-oriented' street-name - Summerfield (Ave) - farther still and the feminine appears again - Queen's Road, St Anne's Road, and Clare Road. We've met 'clare' before, you'll remember - she of the poor ladies - Highclere House being named after her. The 'Queen' of Queen's Road, refers, of course, to the Virgin Mary, a mother - Queen of Heaven is an epithet often applied to high-ranking goddess-figures, and to Mary in particular (in modern times).
St Anne of St Anne's Road is, In the grand-scheme of things and, as mother's go - quite significant. She was the mother of the Virgin-Mary.
Down the hill of Castle Road ('castle' = defensive-house) toward the five-way crossroads at the bottom of the valley, where, on the left stands the former maternity home of St Heliers, directly across the street from St Vincents and the Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception.
But first - what of St Helier and what of St Vincent - who were they?
St Vincent got kidnapped by Turkish-pirates and sold into slavery. He managed to escape and legged-it to Rome to become a missionary to try and help-slaves - this included ordinary peasants in service, who Vincent considered slaves. He wangled-it in Rome and became chaplain to the galleys, and the galley-slaves. He founded missionary schools of priest dedicated to helping poor-peasants - he is known as the Great Apostle of Charity. So there you are - he was an alma. He founded one mission called The Daughters of Compassion.
The other saint named at these crossroads, St Helier, was born through divine-intervention. His parents were unable to conceive for ages and they were desperate. So they go to see a holy-man and they ask him to say some prayers for them so they could get pregnant. So off they-go and the holy-dude says some magic-words to the conceiving force-of-nature, and hey-presto! 40 weeks-later, out pops Helier, hurrah! So that's why his name was put-on a maternity hospital.
Helier was a bloke who was very-picky about his home - he lived in a cave on a jagged-rock on a rugged-coast on an island off the coast of Jersey - nutter! Didn't like all that brickwork and stuff, preferred the company of seagulls. He didn't mind popping-out now and then to make-people feel-better though - had a special talent for healing skin-complaints and eye-trouble - miracle-cures flowed freely from him. A Medieval church was stuck-on-top of his hole-in-the-rock - Heliers Bed they call the rock now.
He also defended the islands from attackers by standing on his rock, making the sign-of-the-cross and raising-up storms - he sank a few Viking longboats, I'll bet.
But it didn't always work-out so well - one-fine-day along comes a bunch of aforesaid Vikings and lop his bleedin' head-off. 'Plop,' it goes as it hits the sand. 'Ha!' say the Vikings, 'that'll stop him raising-storms.' Helier wasn't having that! He bends down and picks it up and starts strolling up the beach, back to his cell - but he didn't make-it - gutted! He drops down sparko and next-day his buddy-monk finds him lying-there in a puddle of goo, clutching his bonce in his hands.
His mate lobs his body and head into a row-boat and head for the mainland, and when they get there Helier's two-bits are left some-place overnight. They pick-it all up in the morning and off they go to bury Helier. Then - bloody-Nora - a healing-spring spurts-up out of the ground where they'd left him overnight. People still go there today to get miracle-cures from Helier.
Mother of Mary
Right where St Helier's and St Vincent's stand, on the five-way crossroads on the floor of the 'v' shaped valley demarked by Northwood Road, there are five wells - ancient healing-springs, I'll be-bound.
Crossroads and holy-springs were the very-place you'd frequent if you wanted to attract the attention of a healing-spiritual-force and/or If you wanted to conceive a child. This would be the very-place to site a shrine to the healing goddesses. Right next-door to St Vincent's is that shrine - the church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception.
The Immaculate Conception's got nothing to-do with the virgin-birth of J. Christ Esq' - it actually refers to the conception of his mother Mary by Anne, who we briefly met at St Anne's Road. The church-people in Rome and elsewhere have argued about the whole-concept of the Immaculate Conception and its actual meaning - but we ain't here to worry about that. The point I'm making is merely that conception and birth and giving of alms and healing springs are themes concentrated on this ancient five-way crossroads in the bottom of a valley - themes we've noted all-along the seven-mile length of this northward alignment of the sign called the Northern Gate of the Sun.
On the bell-tower on top of the church of the Immaculate Conception is the unmistakable, woven-rush design of a St Brigid's Cross. The much-beloved St Brigid we met at Bridge Street in Canterbury, and here she is again. In Britain it was mostly the Irish who continued the veneration of Brigid the exalted one, there's still a shrine in Kildaire bearing her name. The Christians allowed her veneration to continue - but only because they demoted her from her exalted-position and made her into the midwife - she attended to Mary and delivered little Jesus into the world.
Quite fitting then, I feel, that from the windows of St Helier's maternity hospital, the crossed-rush-cross of the holy-midwife can clearly be seen - it's right across the street. Both midwives and ladies giving-birth could-have heard the bell in the tower and seen that cross on the tower.
Anyroad, nuns were trained at these crossroads - it was a convent and nunnery for most of its history, is now a Roman-Catholic primary-school. Former retirement-homes for nuns lie all along Northward Road, St Anne's and Queen's - opposite St Vincent's and the church there's a presbytery, full of Father Jack's and Father Ted's, in former days.
This five-way crossroads had five wells - and until the 'great-storm' in the 1980s, there were dozens of extremely large, ancient evergreens crowding-round and shading all five wells, lining the pavements on all the five streets. A few ancient yews, holm-oaks, scot's-pine and holly's remain as a reminder, but back-then this cross-roads had a very-particular feeling hanging in the air. It was quiet, hushed - I remember going to the maternity home with my pregnant mum and being filled with a sense of unspeakable otherness...... I was about 7 or 8 years-old, I recall small processions of nuns walking-by, choirs voices floating in and out of the room (I thought it was the angels), a bell tolling, the midwife asking mum about an invisible, unborn soul that was stirring in her belly - I clearly remember seeing an ultrasound image of my sister sucking-her-thumb, and putting my little-hand on my-mum's tummy, and feeling the movements.
When I cross-the-road at the crossroads today, I flash-back to the knowing I gained on those long-ago childhood-days - when I knew and viscerally felt my intrinsic and vital connection to a chain of Being that had no beginning, and will know no end - eternity. And then a car hoots its hooter and I flash-sideways, back-to the here-and-now where I'm standing in the middle-of-the-road at the crossroads.
Better get outa-the-way, and continue northward up the other-slope of the valley - did I mention that valleys - especially 'v' shaped ones like the one here, are female? Of the goddess? Oh - well, they are, for reasons I'm sure I won't need to spell-out.
Uh.... and so are crescents and curves.
As we've discussed previously, cells, chests and boxes are symbols often-employed in reference to the Goddesses and their all-encompassing, protective attributes. Cups, goblets, grails - are also employed to talk-of her attributes - her womb, more specifically. That's one-of the reasons for siting these female-oriented establishments here, at the bottom of a chalice, cup, grail, where springs-rise to fill those cups.
The crescent also relates to the Moon, ruler of Cancer, the chest, the ribs. Wooden-ships have ribs and are crescent-shaped, they are chests, containers, cells that protect their soft-contents and travel the sea - and that's why ships are also very-much governed by this sign of the crab.
Ships are symbols of both the womb and the tomb - a lone voyager travels between the worlds. The womb is a ship that brings a visitor to this world, from unknown-shores, and the tomb is a ship that takes him/her away again, to equally unknown-shores.
The Street, Tankerton Bay
So, as you can see from the street-plan above, in-part designed by the Freemason Wynn Ellis, this seaward end-of-the-alignment resembles, when viewed from above, both a grail-cup with a wand (The Street) and a ship with a mast formed out-of The Street.
The roads which mark-out the grail or ship were there as carriage-tracks and pedestrian footpaths for countless centuries before they were widened-out for cars, and hard-surfaced, thus preserving the ancient-design in tarmac. Ships used to be waterproofed with tar, the main ingredient in tarmac.
One-of-the reasons I think-of-it as a ship (I have dozens of other-reasons) is to do with Wynn Ellis and his remodelling of Tower House into what is now called The Castle. Mad as-I-am, I think he did that in order to suggest a ship's fore-castle, or foc'sle - the place where the steering-wheel is located, using The Street as the ships-mast - its source of motivational power. Well.... he had loads-a-spare-dosh, was probably a little-bit eccentric - and as a Free Mason of the 33rd degree would have been privy to knowledge of an occult, landscape-oriented nature.
But maybe - like wot I dun - he sussed all-this out on his own-sum?
Whitstable Castle was originally an octagonal tower, built in 1789 by Charles Pearson - he added other wings later and it became a Manor House. Wynn bought it in 1836 and by 1897 it was looking-like a defensive-structure, a castle.
(Note: See John o' Groats House in this article regarding octagonal-buildings)
Drake plays Bowls
give-'em a broadside cap'n
It's now a very square, cuboid sort-of-structure - and it sits in very-beautiful, peaceful gardens. I've spent many a pleasant, sunny afternoon sitting in the gardens watching the bowls competitions on the bowling-green there. Time-and-again the clunk of the balls hitting their target brings to my mind Captain Drake, who insisted on finishing the game of bowls he was playing, whilst the Armada had been sighted and approached the shore of Plymouth.
By putting a bowling-green in his gardens and placing these ornamental ships-canons on the top of the 'slopes,' near the fo'csle, it seems fairly-obvious (to me) that Wynn Ellis the silk-merchant-cum-MP imagined the level-tops of the 'slopes' to be the gun-deck of his ship-of-dreams - and he was the captain.
So - it's the home, house, castle and ship as a defence theme that makes itself known, here at Whitstable Castle.
Right next-door to Wynn's ship-of-dreams stands the impressive-structure known formerly as the Tank, Tanky-Bar, Tankerton Arms or Hotel. It's been converted now into private apartments - homes - but was one of the most popular pubs before they went-and-sold-it. My painting-master, Jimmy Mack, lived in a room there - and it was one-of-the-first paint-jobs I'd ever been involved with. For a few-weeks I was 'ladder-standing,' standing at the foot of the ladder while Jimmy stood at the top, a burning-fag eternally hanging from his gob, painting the high-side, as we called it. If he'd have fallen-off and landed on me. I'd have been squished - but I learned a surprising amount of master-strokes by watching Jimmy up-there, a true-master. Then he got me at-it, as Jim and my dad had planned. He taught me how to go-up ladders that no man in his right-mind would consider going even half-way up - seriously. In a month I could put-up a three-way ladder in a gale, stand it almost vertically up the side of the Tank, on a sloping-pathway, and then scamper up-it with my painting-kit, and do the job. Scaffolding we never used - it was too expensive and Jimmy had better uses for his dosh. He was a Scotsman and knew a thing-or-two about whisky, y'see?
In the photo of the Tank, above, the pub-sign had recently-been changed.... and I can't find an image of the old-sign anywhere. But never-mind, I've knocked-up an image that was something-like it.
It was called 'arms' because of it's original function as an inn, a hotel affiliated with the St John's Hospitallers, who were bearers-of-arms - armed-to-the-teeth. The former pub-sign had an image of a lame-traveller sharing a horse with a fully-regaled Knight Hospitaller.
Whits' Harbour 1950's
About 2/3 of the way down the slopes in front of the Tank and the Castle, perch three long-rows of beach-chalets - little-houses on the shore. Until recent-times there was a white-painted beach-hut standing amongst them on the back-row, with a large red-cross emblem painted in red on the back - a first-aid post (no-longer there). The International Red Cross was formed in 1863, inspired by a Swiss businessman, Henry Dunant. They became affiliated with the Order of St John in the first world-war and did-so again in the 2nd.
At the end of the row, directly beneath the Tanky-Bar looking directly onto The Street, is the coast-guard's cottage. And farther-down the slope, on the beach proper is the life-guard's yellow-hut.
Coast and Life guards - guards are defenders, and defence is a motif associated with the sign of the crab, as you're well-aware by now. Up at the top of the slopes we've got the Knights of St John providing rest for the weary and sick, and on the slopes the red-cross hut had healers for the injured, the sun-burned and the jelly-fish stings.
the sign of the goddess
sign of the chalice - Old Neptune 1950
the sign of the crab
The Northern-Gate-of-the-Sun (Cancer) is associated with all animals that live in the sea and have their skeletons on the outside - that includes oysters of course, a mollusc the town is very-much associated-with.
Whitstable's West Beach, near the Old Neptune, was the site where the ship-yards built the oyster-dredgers. Dozens of ships used-to-be built right there on the beach for the local-fleet which was quite substantial in former centuries. Oysters are now farmed in a sustainable-way - they put thousands of tiny oyster-fry into mesh-sacks, then place the sacks on raised timber-frames in the shallow water just off-shore. The old-style oyster-dredging did untold damage to the sea-floor in the bay, and the oysters almost died-out, so, whilst natives were sad to see the back of the ship building in town, at least the oyster industry survived and the sea-bed is in a much healthier condition.
The town has an Oyster Festival every-year, in the traditional 'off-season' when dredging stopped, so the oysters could breed and the fry could grow undisturbed. Morris Dancers leap-out of every nook and cranny, parading about the place with sooty-faces and odd-looking paraphernalia, playing fiddles and pipes and dancing like-fools outside the pubs in the town. It's a bit of a laff, innit? A reason to quaff-ale, if ever one were needed.
Oysters, particularly raw ones, are a well-known aphrodisiac. Their status as a sexual stimulant originated when Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love after-whom aphrodisiacs are named, gave birth to Eros on an oyster shell. The oyster's reputation for enhancing sexual prowess started in prehistory and they are still used as a sex-enhancer to this day. Casanova ate 50 raw oysters in the bath every morning with his new lover to begin his amorous day. Ever since Aphrodite sprang forth from the sea on an oyster shell as if on a flying carpet, love-starved individuals down the centuries have considered oysters as their magic carpet to sexual prowess and eternal love.
The 'local' oysters that grow here are known as 'native-oysters' - that's very-appropriate for Cancer the sign of 'home ,' because 'native' implies an origin, a home.
But, we came from Canterbury along the Crab and Winkle Way, and in-truth the town is just-as associated with crabs, whelks and lobster as it is with oysters - in the minds and lives of the locals, at any-rate. And that's Cancer the exoskeletoned one, for ya - shellfish, shellfish everywhere.
crab and winkle way
But lets return now to Tankerton before we head-off northward across the Thames Estuary.
As the sign of wombs, tombs, cells, grails, wells and springs I find the name Tankerton which starts with tank, highly appropriate. A tank is of course a vessel that holds some liquid-or-other, so that's rather grail, cup and chalice-like, for a start.
Then-again - 'tanks' are, to modern-ears and minds, metal-chariots mounted with canons that run-on their-own self-laying tracks, defending their occupants - and many tanks are amphibious, like the crab who can live in two environments too. I'm sure there are dozens of metaphoric similarities to be winkled-out between turtle/crab and military-tank.
The 'self-propelled-canon' acquired the name 'tank' because when it was first shipped to the front-lines during the 1st World War, it was still a secret-weapon, so they pulled-a-ruse on the German-spy network and pretended the new-devices of war were water-tanks. Ha! Good Ruse, chaps. The name-stuck and the 'self-propelled-canon' became a tank, forever.
So as you can work-out for y'self, the 'tank' in Tankerton - though it may never have been intended as-such - is cell, grail, container, and chariot, house, defense all at the same-time and rolled-into-one.
But in-fact, Tankerton got its name from that very-male object in the bay, the Street - and the gently inclined cliff-face known locally as The Slopes.
It's all up-and-down along this alignment from Canterbury - on the road-journey by car or bus we go up St Stephen's Hill, down Canterbury Hill on the other-side and into a 'v' shaped valley, then up the bendy-slope of Tyler Hill, then down past Well Court and up and then down again into Thornden Wood Road and up the rise to the dog-leg hairpin bend in Clowes Wood, along the straight and round the next hairpin-bend, then down the two slopes of Radfall Rise and Radfall Hill - and then at the end of the 7-miles it's down Castle Road into the 'v' shaped valley and up Tower Hill and then down the slopes to the Street. That's what is known as feminine topography and, as I've pointed-out, feminine toponymy.
The number 7 relates-to the Chariot - there are 7 main-loci on the alignment (in-between the two 'ends'), and it's exactly 7 miles from St Augustine's Abbey to the far-end of The Street. As I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, the name Tankerton is based-on, comes-from, this anomalous feature sticking its stony-finger out into the bay. The place name is two words, originally - 'tan' and 'ceart' - we'll come to the prefix 'tan' in a moment, I think it's a good idea to deal with 'ceart,' first, A 'ceart' is defined by the Anglo Saxon Dictionary as wild, common land. So, that's simple-enough - that's what the slopes are, to this day - only slightly more manicured than in previous eras.
'Tan,' the prefix, is one-of-those words we still-use. If you lay-on the beach and - because of the UV-light, your skin changes colour from milky-white to a slightly browner-hue, we call that 'getting-a-tan.' It means to change-colour in that sense.
In another - related - sense, it was what my mum would threaten-me-with if I'd been a bit-naughty; she'd say something-like: if I catch you doing that again, my lad, your father will tan your hide when he gets home. That was usually enough to cause an immediate change in my behaviour - my dad would 'tan-my-hide' when he got home, if my mum mentioned my misbehaviour to him. And that hurt.
Tanning a hide in its original-sense, was to make-leather - to treat an animal-skin (hide) by steeping-it in a liquid, then wupping-it with a cane to expel the moisture.
It's all very-clever.
At the base of The Street where the beach is, was formerly a Green-Vitriol or Copperas Extraction facility. There were large tanks built on the shore-line, that filled with sea-water when the tide came-in. In the tanks were certain 'bright' rocks, pebbles and stones they'd painstakingly collected from The Street and along the foreshore, and once the water was added they lit a fire beneath the tank and evaporated the water. They'd collect the residue that resulted and begin the process again.
This Green-Vitriol was essential to clothiers and hosiers - it was a mordant or colour-fixer - essential for tanning and tanners. Wynn Ellis made his fortune, you'll recall, as a silk-merchant, hosier and haberdasher - it's as though he'd come full-circle.
And the reason it's called tanning is because the Anglo Saxon word for 1: a twig, branch, switch and stick, is 'tan.' It's also the word for a 'rod of divination,' a divining-rod. And 2: shooting and spreading - no-doubt phallic allusions, methinks - easy to figure that one out, huh?
Clearly then, the ancient place-namers considered The Street to have existed in more-than-one dimension - for them, not merely a spit-of-pebbles on the beach - but also a divining-rod, a wand of fertility and, because of its attributes associating it with the art of tanning, a magic-wand.
Dying things permanently was alchemy - it still-is, only we modern's have lost our sense of wonder. The iron-rich salt, 'vitriol,' extracted from rocks and sea-water, is/was also used in medicine - it dissolves in water so is taken for iron-deficiency, something for which children and pre-menopausal women (maids) are the groups most prone.
The green-vitriol that was found in the magnetic-pebbles on The Street also contains sulphur - they used the sulphur to make gun-powder at the Home Works ('home' = Cancer), the Faversham gun-powder plant (Britain's first) in the 16th century.
This symbolism goes further still. This tan/divining-rod/phallus is - for the above reasons - of the element Fire - it's male. The water in which it sizzles and steams is of the polarity female. Here - if we have the right-eyes on, we can see the divine feminine and the divine male coupling, uniting... creating.
The modern, scientific-name for green-vitriol is iron-sulfate - iron-sulfate is a heptahydrate (hepta = seven) and iron-sulfate is paramagnetic. That means that when in the presence of an external magnetic-field, it is magnetic and attracted-to the magnetism. But when the external-field is removed, it stops being-magnetic. Our divining-rod on the beach at Tankerton points permanently north at the magnetic-north-pole, so is permanently in the magnetic-field.
That peevish-reader that called me a liar regarding the tumuli in the woods, also informed me that I was making this-up too. He said that the magnetic-north-pole moves and so how can I claim this? Doh! At this stage of the article I am not going to honour him with an answer - he'll have to read this entire article for that - I ain't making anything-up except my mind. At the appropriate moment in this article he (if you're still there) will have his answer.
Vitriol is a well-known seven-word alchemical acrostic - V.I.T.R.I.O.L - Visita Interiora Terra Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem - visit the interior of the earth, purifying you will find the Philosopher's-Stone.
Student alchemists had to perform seven alchemical operations (great-works) that would culminate in the Great-Work. The seven-pointed star with its' seven-letters and seven-words symbolises and encapsulates the entire, seven-fold Great-Work.
Two influences are combined and interact in the generation of the Philosopher's-Stone. One of a masculine character, one of a female. The Sun and the Moon, the Fire and the Water, the King and the Queen - form an integral-part of any alchemical-operation. I think Wynn Ellis the 33 degree Free-Mason came to Tankerton because-of the presence of the tan in the bay, oozing fiery-vitriol from its paramagnetic-stones.
I perceive that he-did what I've more-or-less done - put-together all of the 'clues' hidden-in-plain-sight on the land between St Augustine's Abbey and the Street in the bay - and come to more-or-less the same conclusions that I've drawn. THIS is one powerful place - what the Native-American's would call a power-place. A place to draw-power from.
And believe me, it is.
It's been-there, pointing arrogantly at the northern-gate, its seaward tip exactly seven-miles from the standing-stones in St Augustine's. Three-quarters of a-mile from beach to tip - 3/4 adds-up to 7. A source of a seven-fold material, heptahydrate or vitriol, a seven lettered acrostic symbolised as a 7-pointed-star.... does this make YOUR head spin?
I recommend you go there and experience the place for your-self. I recommend further that you see-it at Sunrise, and see-it at Sunset. I recommend that at low-tide, whatever time of the day or night that comes, you walk-out to the far-end.
And then look out seven nautical-miles across the bay, where the defenders stand.
to defend the realm
Spread-out across the horizon stand the sentinel Maunsell Forts, seven x 7-legged platforms where Royal-Marines were stationed during WW2, defending the mouths of the Thames, Medway and Swale from marine and aerial attackers. Wynn Ellis's ship-canons may have been purely for-show, purely symbolic, but these guns were real-enough. They're laid-out in what the uninformed call an 'L' shape, but we, the informed, can recognise an inverted 7 when we see-one.
If we go and climb onto one-of-the-forts (boat-trips available from the harbour), and look 7 nautical-miles* to the north we make landfall in Essex not-far from Shoeburyness - and guess what's in Shoeburyness?
(*Note to peevish-reader: I am well aware of the fact that nautical miles are not the same length as land miles - what-do-you-take-me-for?)
I'll tell-ya - it's the location of the Ministry of Defence weapons testing-range. How-about-that? 14 nautical miles south in Tankerton Bay was the source of sulphur that was used in Britain's first gun-powder factory.
Here in Whitstable and Tankerton once-a-week in most-months of the year the cats-and-dogs go mental and the windows rattle (some break) - they're testing new missiles, rockets and bombs, and destroying old-munitions inside huge, concrete underground bunkers. Boooommmmmmmmmm! The air-rips-open like close-thunder - and Booomm it goes-again, and again, Booom! We grown-ups are used-to-it but the cats and dogs will never get-used to-it - they go ape! Every-time.
Anyway, it's all about defence - and underground-boxes.
Oh yeah, and on our gigantic cherub in the English landscape, where d'ya reckon Shoeburyness is, physiologically-speaking?
That Boom is coming out of the mouth of our cherub, through his/her cupped-hands held-up to his/her mouth - this is the ONE who speaks with the voice of thunder!!!
7 x 77
the muse strums a lyre
All-joking-aside though - as crabs avoid actual physical-combat by signals-alone, like a dog-barks as a warning-defence - so shouting with a loud voice is a time-honoured, similar, human tactic.
The hands are, of-course, a means-of-defence at-the-same-time as they're tools of manipulation, signalling, wielding the pen or artist's-brush, etc. And of course, one-hand is passive, receptive, female, and the other is active, expressive and male. They are Sun and Moon. But here we're looking at the female-aspects, the passive, left-hand - the cup-holder, and the palm as-a-measure (see 'mund' above).
We speak what is known-as 'estuary-English' either-side of the Thames Estuary, in North Kent and south-east Essex - they drop the 'h' from hello, help, hand, happy. Henry, which have become 'ello,'elp, 'and, 'appy and 'Enry. I mention-this because just along the coast from Shoeburyness is the seaside-town of Southend, pronounced-locally: Sarffand - that's south-hand to we who can-see the giant - 'south' being left in boxing terminology - a south-paw is a left-hand.
The experts tell-us that the place-name came-from Southend being the south end of something-else though - not the end-of-an-arm - silly-me - the south-end of Prittlewell, the village. Oh... that's what it means? Ha ha ha, that's funny. I'm quite surprised and slightly amused that the experts managed - for once - to avoid inventing the local big-boots to explain it away - Mr Sothend he'd have been called. It seems they were forced by topographical-circumstance to admit that the place IS at the south-end of something - and they had to come-up with something that didn't include a giant's-arm. So Prittlewell it was - perfect! Have a pay-rise and a week-off.
But there ain't nuffin in Prittlewell, and there never was, except homes for the house-proud, and a home for the house-proud dead.
They were building a road and found an Anglo Saxon tomb which was 13ft square - and more of a home - more-like a lounge or living-room than a tomb. It was a walled room full of home-wares of copper, gold, silver and iron. These included a hanging-bowl decorated with inlaid escutcheons, a folding stool, three stave-built tubs or buckets with iron bands, a sword and a lyre - the most complete-one ever found in Britain. The proud householder was clothed in richly-coloured, finest woven cloth and silk, attired with golden belts, brooches and buckles. The archaeologists assume that this was a king, not a queen - but the bones had totally dissolved so there's no real-way of knowing anyway. But I assume that this may-well have been an important lady laid-to-rest here, in the sign of the goddess. The 13, encoded in the measurements of 13 square-feet, plus the cuboid shape, hint the same clues - 13 is a number very-much related to the Moon.
But let's nip-back to Southend - home-ware is something Southend used to know a thing-or-two about. This bloke from Prittlewell, EK Cole, started an electronics-firm called EKCO, and then opened a factory in Southend that made boxes and cubes with ever-changing contents - radio-sets and televisions. During WWII they also made radar-sets to defend the country from the Germans. Up-until the man-died in 1966 and the company was bought and divided-up in the '70's, they made mains and portable TV's, radios, radiograms, tape recorders, car radios, electric heaters, electric blankets, plastic toilet seats, various plastic utensils, plastic bathroom fittings and baby-baths.
Paglesham's in the hand too.
'Paegal,' the Anglo Saxon word on which Paglesham's name is based, means a small-vessel, a wine vessel. It's where we get the word pail. Well, we could opt for the bog-standard meaning of this, one-pertaining to the construction-of small-vesselss, which works perfectly in this mariners-sign of builders and ships. But, with our expanded-view of the landscape we are aware that Paglesham is in the hand of a giant hermaphrodite, and how else would he/she hold a wine-vessel or a pail - let-alone build a ship?
Chelmsford, also there in the hand and wrist speaks of something similar. It was in the Domesday Book as Celmeresfort. The prefix 'cel' is a chalice, which you cant pick-up and drink without hands.
In the human-being, teeth are a defensive weapon too - generally used as a last-resort when shouting 'F*^%-OFF!' fails. I mention the teeth because our alignment leaves the hermaphrodite-giant's cupped-hand and 'hits' his/her teeth.
Teeth aren't just defensive-weapons though, obviously. They are part-of the digestive-system, the first-stage of the nourishment cycle, and this is the sign that governs food and nourishment. Teeth are also indicators that the first-stage of individuation in an infant is or has occurred. and this sign is the mother that nurtures the babies, being governess of infants.
'Tot' is a word we use for a 'toddler' or very-young child, and our Cancerian alignment has a group of villages and places all prefixed with 'tot,' such as Totham Hill, Great Totham and Little Totham - three tiny-tots.
The reason that we call them 'tots' is all-to-do with teeth - 'tot' was how the ancients in this land wrote tooth. As I mentioned - teething marks the stage when an infant starts to recognise that it's actually an individual-being. When baby grows teeth and begins to gnaw on the world, he/she is beginning to understand his/her place in-the-world.
The village of Silver End fits the Cancerian archetype(s) in a number of ways. The village was built as a 'model-village' by a window-fabricating businessman & philanthropist, Frank (Francis) Crittal, in 1926. He was very concerned that the people who worked in his window-factory should have a good communal-life, have good homes to live-in, and good employment opportunities - so he got some famous art-deco architects in and he built them a nice village - state-of-the-art stuff. He gave them the biggest village-hall in England, a huge department-store, a cinema, social-club etc, etc.
The houses are very cuboid, box-like containers.
Why Frank chose to name the village Silver End may never-be-known, but it hardly-matters - silver is the Moon's metal and colour, and she's the ruler of the sign we're investigating. Maybe Frank Crittall suspected his new-village was in the house-building sign, and by naming it silver, he was 'honouring' or 'tapping-the-influences' of la lune, the night-prancer?
On the matter of defence, the Silver End factory made munitions during the First World War, and then, after the war, they made all-of-the metal window frames for the national housing programme - lots and lots of houses and homes.
Silver Street, Silver End, Essex
Braintree was called Brantry in the Domesday Book, and the experts give-us the old 'personal-name' flim-flam, believing that some ancient-dude called Branoc had a tree, and the two were so renowned they named the-place after them. Aahhh, sweet.......
Yeah, I'll go-along with that.
'Bran' has no match in Anglo Saxon, so, knowing what I know, and thinking what I think, I have to believe that the place-name is simply spelling-out it's physiological location - in the brain,, seat of the subconscious-mind. The Norman scribes who filled-out the accursed Book Of Doom (Domesday Book) probably couldn't spell-it properly, and wrote 'bran' when they should have wrote 'braegan,' the correct spelling in Ye-Olde-England, for brain.
The suffix 'try' has, likewise, no Anglo Saxon 'match,' being misinterpreted by the experts who claim it means 'tree.' But I tell-you that 'try' is not how the ancient-fellas wrote 'tree,' they wrote tree as 'tre.'
In Anglo Saxon, the language 99% of British places were originally written-in, the suffix's 'try' and 'tree' don't and didn't exist - 'trym' being the closest - and most relevant for our purposes. 'Trym' means firmament. This meant, and means, to the English, the expanse of the sky; the heavens; from Latin firmāmentum sky (fixed above the earth), from Latin: prop, support, from firmāre to make firm.
I suppose then that the ancient's thought of the brain as a firmament 'above,' given that they (and you and I) can imagine everything in the universe - or dream of it - or think it - and that goes on 'up-there' in the firmament, the 'braegan.'
Cognate with 'trym' are 'trymian,' and 'trymung,' support, arm, be arrayed, fortress, edification, ordinance.
Knowing, as we do, that Braintree is inside the fortress, the brain-case of a landscape-god, specifically-tuned to the goddess-vibration of Cancer, such esoteric-sounding interpretations, baffling to the experts, take-on an almost down-to-earth realism - they were describing the skull and what it was defending - the firmament within.
The charioteer in The Chariot has a firmament of 6-pointed-stars....
The town prospered from the 17th century when Flemish immigrants made the town famous for its wool cloth trade. The wool trade died out in the early 19th century and Braintree became a centre for silk manufacturing when George Courtald opened a silk mill in the town. By the mid 19th century, Braintree was a thriving textile town. The Courtauld family had a strong influence on the town, supporting plans for many of the town's public buildings such as the town hall.
There's the old silk and cloth connections again - and also the old alchemy motif pops-up with Courtald's. They devised new-fibres like Rayon, Viscose and Tencel - with alchemy at the very-heart of the manufacturing process. They dissolved wood-pulp in thinners to remove the cellulose. They then did all-kinds of magic to the cellulose to make clothes and fabrics of all-kinds, from fake-fur to denim-like jackets and trousers. This took the tanning or dying process in new-directions of course, you can't dye such fabrics in the old-way, with vitriol, which was also dissolved out of a natural material, stones.
Sible Hedingham used-to-have a castle, but it's long-gone now. The most famous resident was a deaf-mute they called witch Dummy (because he was 'dumb') - a local-fortune-teller, and the last person in England to be charged with practicing witch-craft, in 1863. A local-girl accused-him of bewitching her house (house and home motif). The mob dragged the poor-old-sod (he was 91) from where he was supping his ale, in The Swan, beat him with sticks and chucked-him in the local-brook where they half-drowned him (trial by ducking). Then they dragged him to the workhouse, thrashed him some more, then dumped him there, where he died a short-while later of pneumonia.
Superstition and nightmarish fantasies running-wild in the subconscious minds of folks.... leading to mob-behaviour, where child-like instinct takes-over control of the rational-mind. That's one-of-the-reasons that the horse-of-the-night, the Moon, which rules the subconscious-mind and dreams (not just 'bad' dreams), came to be known as the night-mare.
Anyway, I've taken the place-name apart and found that 'sib' of Sible, the prefix, meant more-or-less what it means today, kinsman, brother/sister - sibling.
Hed of the suffix Hedingham could easily be misconstrued - given that it's in a landscape-size head - as meaning 'head,' and that would be most-appropriate in any-case. For then the place-name would read: brother's and/or sisters head. But 'hed' of Hedingham doesn't actually mean head. 'Hedan' is the closest AS word - it means heed, care-for, look-after, guard.
What a beautiful message is contained in this village-name - pay-heed/look after your brothers and sisters. It's quite ironic in a tragic sort-of-way, that the infantile-folk who killed poor old Dummy the witch hadn't or couldn't read that message writ-large in their home-village's name.
Bury St Edmunds was originally called Beodericsworth,
'Beodan,' means to call-out an army, to command - reference to The Chariot, no-doubt.
Nearby is a similar word, but with an entirely different ramification: 'beoddian' is to do joiners work, that'll mean house-building - joiners were the most-vital of skill-sets in the days when houses were made of timber. Joiners also make cabinets, boxes and chests.
Next door to that word is another, equally appropriate-one: 'beodfaet,' a table-vessel., cup.
By the 14th century Beodericsworth had already-become a cloth-making town, with a large woollen trade,
The patron saint of olde England, Edmund, eponymous donor of the town's more-modern name, was killed by Vikings, like several-other's we've met on our midsummer's day alignment. They did the proper-nasty to King Edmund, shot him full-of-arrows, blood-eagled him and lopped his nut-off. They lobbed-it into a thorn-tree (protective thorns/door to the otherworld-fairy-tree) where body-less Eddy waited patiently to be rescued. His courtiers and pals go-out looking for their king - and they hear his familiar voice calling-them. Ha! He's alive! When they follow his voice they realise that he's only slightly(ish) alive - his severed bonce is calling them from the tree - 'here I am, up here.' A white-wolf appears (instinct/Moon) and leads the party, carrying Edmund's head, to his life-less body.
The infamous Witch Finder General had a field-day in Bury St Edmunds. In one-day alone he executed 18-souls from villages in Suffolk and Norfolk and Essex, for their 'crimes.' According to the 'witch-pricker' John Stearn, the associate of Hopkins, in his book A Confirmation and Discovery of Witchcraft he reported that there were one hundred and twenty others in gaol awaiting trial, only 17 were men.
The general consensus of the times was that we were all in-danger from witches. Thomas Browne, philosopher, physician and author, 1643:... how so many learned heads should so farre forget their Metaphysicks, and destroy the ladder and scale of creatures, as to question the existence of Spirits: for my part, I have ever beleeved,and doe now know, that there are Witches;
A Parliamentary Paper in 1645 expressed some unease with the nasty goings-on in Bury St Edmunds:
But whence is it that Devils should choose to be conversant with silly Women that know not their right hands from their left, is the great wonder ... The(y) will meddle with none but poore old women: as appears by what we receive this day from Bury ... Divers are condemned and some executed and more like to be. Life is precious and there is need of great inquisition before it is taken away.
Mundford contains - in name alone - all of the elements recurrently appearing in this sign of the Goddess. Security, protection, guardianship, and a bridegrooms gift to bride's father as well as the bridegroom's gift to his bride.
The nearby town of Brandon echoes the alleged 'Branoc' of Braintree with its prefix 'bran,' but a different explanation is given by the expert toponymists'. This 'bran' refers instead - they say - to a hill where broom-grows.... nah - not 'aving it.
No-matter how-much the 'authorities' desired to obscure the 'pagan' origination of these ancient place-names, by the simple but subtle-alteration of their-spelling - the illiterate population wouldn't know anyway, and the pronunciations stayed the same - I can-still say with loads-of certainty that 'bran' of Brandon means brain, my certainty based entirely on the town's location in an ancient, pagan-god's brain. They couldn't change that - the location.
I'm not surprised they messed with the place-names - they reveal too much. They reveal-all.
Cambridge was mentioned in the Anglo Saxon Chronicle as Grantebrycge - as there is no such word as 'grante' in Anglo Saxon I believe that the 't' was originally a 'd' thus 'Grande-,' which means to impact, crash, rub-together. In terms of wings this needs no explanation, for that's what wings do. But in terms of the sign Cancer, a small explanation is needed, but I'll get-to-that in a moment, after we've looked at the suffix - rendered as 'brycge.'
In a certain sense, the current interpretation of 'brycge' as 'bridge' is entirely appropriate - bridges are places of crossing-over, from one-world to another - metaphorically-speaking bridges are ships, wombs and tombs, and we'll see many more bridges in this article, as you'll see. The trouble with this interpretation though is that impacts, crashes and rubbing-together juxtaposed with bridges makes no-sense whatever.
I propose then that the original word spelt 'brycge' was intended as 'bryce,' without the 'g.' 'Bryce' means 1: breach, fracture, breaking and fragment. 2: fragile, brittle, worthless and fleeting; 3: use, enjoyment, service, exercise, advantage, gain, profit and fruit.
I admit that if I didn't know what I know about the British landscape and what it contains and conceals I'd do what the modern-orthodox place-namers did and warp the name into something less baffling.... Cambridge is what they came-up-with. No-one knows what that means either but that's to their liking - 'our prehistoric forbears were imbeciles', they said, and named places 'parochial-style' or 'after some local big-wig.' Nah.
They knew what you and me know - there's a ruddy-great winged infant AND its MOTHER beneath our feet! So - when baby beats its little-wings (very-big) too hard and damages them - who's gonna kiss-em-better? As well as break 'bryce' is also breach - and that's what we call a baby born feet-first. There's much, much more I could relate to you about Cambridge and how it fits the Cancerian archetype in o' so many ways but we've gotta move on.....
We've been to Ely before too, when we were investigating the previous-sign, Gemini. I expressed-there that in the ancient view-of-things, Ely was one-of the portals or doors to the Otherworld, the Elysian Fields. I'm saying the same-here, of course - the subconscious-mind of Cancer is that very-door - your-own-personal firmament within.
The village of Terrington St John brings-us-back - in name - to the headless-one, the voice-in-the-wilderness, John The Baptist, inspirer of the Knights Hospitallers (Babtist = font + water = chalice). The place-name is a bit on the gory-sounding side - but considering John's horrible-fate that's hardly surprising. 'Ter,' the prefix in Terrington, means tearing, laceration, as well-as tumult, and discord.... Ouch, that was quite a 'laceration,' a slight rip or tear. And quite a tumult too.
The middle-syllable 'ring,' meant the same-things to the ancients as it does to us - with a few subtle-extras though - 'ring' meant 1: link of a chain, fetter. The Baptist was kept in his cell in fetters and chains, crying-out in the darkness - causing a tumult ('ter), and 2: the horizon, the border - when viewed from The Hinge that's a very-accurate description - as I've said in previous articles, this giant's-head IS the horizon (viewed from The Hinge), and as the location of the Elysian Fields it's also the border - between the three-worlds. The 3rd meaning of 'ring' in the ancient tongue, was the circuit of the year; cycle; course and globe. St John's Day marks the Summer-Solstice, and, like Ely, the village comes directly into alignment with the rising-Sun on-or-near that important-point in the cycle of the Sun, Moon and Earth's joint circuit of the year. 'Globe' refers, I think, to the 3 orbs just-mentioned, and also to the human-head - a globe.
The diagram above shows the signs from Aries to Libra - their sun-rise alignments as seen-from The Hinge, and the zodiacal cusp-lines centred-in and viewed from the ankle joint or Canterbury.
You can see that the four-signs of Taurus, Gemini, Cancer and Leo, ruled-by Venus, Mercury, the Moon and the Sun, rise-over and pour their combination-of-energies into the head, brain and consciousness regions of our hermaphrodite-god - when viewed from The Hinge.
When viewing from the other-wheel - the zodiac-wheel pinned-to the ankle of our winged-one in Canterbury, this combination and focus of energies is backed-up in strength and potency - the signs Gemini and Cancer, ruled by Mercury and the Moon, have their cusps and their influences pouring-into and through the same head-oriented regions. The two-'wheels' are synchronised, they work-together. I think that the 'power' of the global-wheel, spindled in Canterbury, is somehow-or-other acquired from the 'local' Solar/Lunar-alignments device, The Hinge of stone on the Plain of Salisbury. Where the alignments or cusps cross is where the interaction and its effect are most marked. Where the Cancer alignments cross - in the head of our giant - marks-out a region in 'its' top and back-brain area.
But we'll continue northwards, following the alignment across the baptismal-waters of The Wash, into Lincolnshire, the leading-edges of those mighty-wings.
The fen-lands on the north-side of The Wash are known as The Delph - 'delph' is an engineering-term describing the drainage-channels on the land side of a sea embankment. It's a vast, flat, spacious and airy landscape, with skies that stretch from far-off horizon to far-off horizon.
The word 'delph' though is all about sea-born creatures - dolphins. The famous Oracle at Delphi was so-named because the god Zeus took-on the disguise of a dolphin when he visited the shrine - the Greek word for dolphin is 'delphis' and its derivative, 'delphys' means womb.
In ancient Greece legend tells us the dolphin was responsible for carrying the souls of the dead to the Elysian Fields..
Sun and Moon are both represented by the dolphin - dolphin is a companion of both Apollo (Sun) and Aphrodite (Moon). Dolphin is connected with themes of duality - dolphin being both fish and mammal. It is of the water, and an air breather. Dolphin talks about being in two worlds at once.
Queens Chamber Knossos
There are countless tales of dolphins interacting with humans in friendly, protective ways. In ancient, Celtic symbolism the dolphin was highly honoured as protector of sacred wells and sacred water. The dolphin is the watcher of the waters, and the guardian of all things water-associated.
Pirate lore hails the dolphin as a symbol of protection. Salty sea-dogs know that the spirit of the mermaid lives in the heart of dolphin - ancient stories relate about dolphins metamorphosing into beautiful sea maidens.
We'll continue up the coast now to Skegness. Those experts have been at the meaning of the place's-name, and for some-reason I can't fathom, have decided it's not even an English place-name. He he - their insistence on the orthodox version of 'history' messes-them-up every-time - makes it impossible for them (the experts) to get anywhere near the truth of things. They say that it might-be a Danish place-name, or perhaps it's Norse - they don't-know. I quote directly from Wikipedia: The town's name means either "Skeggi's headland" or "beard-shaped headland", depending on whether the first element represents the personal name Skegg (meaning 'bearded one'), one of the Vikings who established the original settlement.....or the Old East Norse word skegg "beard".
And that's what's messin'-'em-up - their 'history' forbids them from interpreting the place-name in the Native-tongue, so-called Anglo Saxon, and thereby never having the chance of getting the correct interpretation. If they'd used their noggins they'd have been curious(?) to see what 'sceg' means in Anglo Saxon - just for the hell-of-it. And then they'd have discovered that to the population who were actually living in the land in pre-Roman and post-Roman days, 'sceg' was the word for a ship. How easy was that? Skegness is a seaside fishing-town - ship makes more-than oodles of sense, in that utilitarian-sense alone. But to those ancient inhabitants and to you and me, ship was an emblem, a sign, a token of the womb and tomb of the Great Goddess. As you can (also) see in the pic, the word 'Sceg#man' (also) means Viking.
In-full then, Skegness's-name spells-out the words Viking-Ship - I have-no-idea why I can say so and they can't.
Inland a little, Lincoln was probably (say the experts) named Linden originally. Well, 'linden' is the name of a tree that was used to make a 'linde,' and a 'linde' is a defensive-tool - it's the word for a wooden-shield. It's the old crab-shell motif.
The Linden Tree after which the entire county of Lincolnshire is named, is called the Lime Tree in modern-times - but it has an alternative name that says goddess, goddess, goddess, three times at least. Linden trees are an abundant nectar source for honey bees, hence one of their alternative names is bee trees. The tree is also known as The Queen Of Nectar - and that's almost a direct reference to the goddess - the priestesses worshipping Artemis and Demeter were called 'bees,' and the Delphic priestess was referred to as a bee.
The leaves are heart shaped and they have five to seven flowers each.
Linden has a long history of medicinal use, most notably for soothing tension and irritability. It is also a heart tonic. The flower tea has a beneficial effect on the blood, helping to reduce cholesterol as well as high blood pressure. It makes a useful drink for children, often sweetened with honey, to calm agitation and promote peaceful sleep. The hot tea soothes diarrhea and clears congested sinus conditions. Externally, the flower tea soothes inflammatory skin problems. In German, the very word to soothe, 'lindern,' is closely related to the name of the tree. The Linden blossom is considered the prize, or 'Queen of Nectar, producing honey plants in Eastern European countries, although less known here.
The Homeric Hymn to Apollo remarks that Apollo's gift of prophecy came from three bee maidens. Topping all-this-off is the physiological-fact that these trees with their plummage and those buzzing-bees swarming around-them are in-the-wings of our cherub - mad-eh?
Mansfield near Nottingham (we'll look at Notts later) has only existed since around Roman times. The suffix 'field' is not simply a wide-open space in the countryside, where you can grow food for the Peole. 'Field' originally referred to the fallen - that is those whom have departed this life, been put into a chest, buried, sent on the final voyage in a metaphoric ship-of-dreams. But even if I have-to stick with the modern meaning of 'field,' it works fine, because this sign Cancer 'rules' farm-land - fields. The prefix 'mans' is mankind, the People - the Moon represents - IS - the public, the People. And where do we all end-up?
Planted.... in a field. Nuff said.
Derby. The orthodox thinkers of Derby like to think that the place-name means 'village of the deer,' which is as parochial as they could hope for. They seem-to-think along the lines-of: Those Monty-Pythonesque backward idiots of pre-Roman times cared about nothing more than giving inane, pointless names to places where they settled - doofers, weren't they. They'd simply look-up in the sky and see a gaggle of geese flying overhead, and that was all they needed - we'll call it 'gagglesworth' after those geese that flew-over and we never saw-again.
Right you are, Bert....
But it was deer they spotted here, and that was all they needed - if we build our village here, Ug, we should call it the 'village of the deer.'
Why Bert, O wise-one?
'cos of those deer what lives over yon.... don't you know nuffin, Ug?
And so, according to our experts, that was how Derby got named - they are certain that it was named 'village of the deer' because it was (apparently) recorded in Anglo Saxon as Deoraby.
But I think the ancients in Olde Britain had more on their minds than the annual deer-rut, and the mundane behaviour of whatever animals they happened to see 'round-about them. I think they had the gods on their minds. I think that here at Derby they were well-aware of the facts I've laid before you - and the facts are that this region of the British Isles is dedicated to and sacred to Bridget, Mabel, Mary, Isis, Aphrodite, Demeter etc, etc.
And the place-namers were therefore NOT talking about four-legged antler bearing beasties.... they were talking about the dear-one, the precious one - the Great Mother and her daughters; and their intrinsic value to mankind - precious, costly.
I looked in the Anglo Saxon Dictionary - 'deor' is indeed an animal - but it ISN'T specifically a deer - according to the dictionary (which see below) it's the word for any wild-beast or animal including the one with antlers - but 'deore' with an 'e' on-the-end, means dear, beloved, precious, costly, valuable, noble, excellent; and dearly, at great cost. Suffixed 'ling' it becomes 'deorling,' darling. It also has the meaning of a household god - I have to say that households are sacred to the sign of the goddesses, Cancer the crustacean.
All I'm saying is that the place-name's meaning is a matter of choice in the final-analysis. While the experts can say that Derby is the 'village of deer' they might just as well call-it the village of the household god or the village of the beast, or the village of the dear-one - as I'm sure I've remarked in other-places, context is all. And the orthodox experts contextualise everything according to their half-baked notion that the ancients were pig-ignorant dumb-assed yokels in ill-fitting animal-skins.
I also think that 'deor' is a variation on 'durs,' doors - I can easily think that because we - like the ancients - know that doors AND darlings are part of a pattern unfolding within this crab's-cone emanating from the sacred-spot in St Augustine's Abbey, Canterbury. They wouldn't be able to think-the same-thing, because they have no idea that Derby fits into a certain pattern - they think it stands alone, isolated, individual. You and I know that it doesn't.
that's dear, darling...
black-pool of the heavens
Blackpool - the archetypal seaside resort - was a hamlet in the Hundred of Amounderness, until the 18th century when it became de-rigeur to bathe in sea water to improve health & well-being - that old idea really took-off and evolved Blackpool into what it is today.
Blackpool rose to prominence as a major centre of tourism when the railway was built in the 1840s. In 1855 they installed one-of-the-first ever electric trams to transport the pleasure-seekers up and down the length of the sandy-beach. It’s still there and is still ferrying folks along the beach.
By 1881 it was a booming resort with a population of 14,000 and piers, fortune-tellers, pubs, trams, donkey rides, fish-and-chip shops and theatres - the People at play. By 1951 it had grown to 147,000 souls. Cancer is the sign of infants and pleasure-places like Blackpool are designed to return care-worn grown-ups to a state more-resembling their childhood frame-of-mind - fun, fun, fun, all-the-way.
The toponymy has done-them-in, again. They surmise that a river must have run through a peat-bog on the way to the coast-here, picking-up a black discoloration before discharging into the sea., all black and wot-not.
If only they had an Anglo Saxon Dictionary.... If only.
As you can make-out from the Anglo Saxon Dictionary page pasted alongside, in the olde-days ‘blac’ meant more-or-less the opposite of what it has-come to-mean today. ‘Blac’ meant shining, glittering, flashing, whilst ‘blacern’ is a lamp, candle and light - mad, huh? I suppose that we should take the meanings as a whole - for it is in the black-pool of the night - ruled by La Lune, that we are able to see those illuminations up-there in the heavens - the stars.
I cannot deny that I’m eternally knocked-out by the way that an ancient place-name manifests its meaning - this place given a name perhaps 2000 years ago or more, eventually manifests that meaning when the time allows. - and Blackpool is famous for its facsimile-stars - the world-famous Illuminations, as they’re known. Dubbed ‘the greatest free light show on earth’, stretching 6 miles, using around a million light-bulbs. - from Starr Gate to Bispham. You can’t make this-stuff-up - the Starr-Gate is in Blackpool.
There’s another shining, glittering and flashing place-name nearby - Blackburn.
The town first appears as Blacheborne in the Book of Doom. According to the dictionary ‘burn’ was properly spelled as ‘byrne,’; and that is a corslet - an item of protective-clothing. a piece of body armour which consists of a breastplate and back piece - although nowadays it signifies an item of female underclothing, lingerie. So here in Blackburn’s name is a shining, glittering and flashing corslet.
Textiles have been produced in Blackburn since the middle of the 13th century, when wool was woven in people's houses . Then some Flemish weavers settled in the area during the 14th century and helped to develop the wool cottage industry in the region. The inventor of the Spinning-Jenny, James Hargreaves, was a weaver in Blackburn in the 18th century.
All Hallows Spring on Railway Road was venerated as a sacred-spring in the Iron Age.
York is a walled-city - called Eboracum by the Romans - they built a massive fort here with 6000 soldiers in-it - it's now underneath York Minster.
The toponymy has caused the experts a few headaches and they haven't really got a clue what the place-name means... they seem to be opting for something as mundane as 'place of yew-trees' or the 'village belonging to Ebor...' Hmm.
I did the usual and went to the Anglo Saxon Dictionary - in that language it makes plenty of sense. The prefix 'ebor' meant pretty much the same to the ancients as it still does today - 'ebba' and 'ebbian' are low-tide and to-ebb respectively. The 'oracum' suffix is two syllables, 'ora,' shore, bank, border, and 'cum' is 'cuman' land, be-born, go, depart. Plenty of metaphors there - metaphors of the Cancerian type - tidal-motion, travelling, departing and arriving, birth and death - the concrete, linguistic manifestations of the goddess-archetype we've been seeking in this most mystic-landscape of Northern England. Many present-day names of companies and places, such as Ebor Taxis and the Ebor Race-Meeting, refer-back to the old name - even the Archbishop uses Ebor as his surname, and signs-it in his signature - he's ebbing-away.
And these linguistic watery-manifestations are further evoked by the modern version of the place-name - first recorded in the 13th century: York. It was spelled in many alternative ways in the olde-days - one being 'yrc,' and this fits the bill: billow, flood, liquid, sea, water.
These liquid-allusions are absolutely appropriate for the topography - the Roman-fort was on the high ground because the lower-ground and the town itself were regular-victims to heavy flooding from the rivers Ouse and Foss, and, so-say the egg-heads - lay abandoned by the year 400.
Back over there on the east-coast, Spilsby sits directly upon the northern-alignment. It's a very ancient-place, an Iron Age hill-fort and defensive terraced earthworks overlook the village. The experts say the place-name means simply 'Spilla lives here.' You already know my feelings about such interpretations - but I'll allow-it for a nano-second - the place where Spilla lives is referring to Spilla's home. OK - I've allowed it its moment - but let's look at what it really means.
In our olde tongue, 'spilaeg' was a type of snake. Are you seeing the connections....? From the Lincolnshire Delph - to Delphi and the Pythoness - and now back to Lincolnshire's 'spilaeg' or snake.....
Moving north and staying on the coast, we meet a nice lass by the name of Mabel Thorpe - well - that's the town's name at any-rate - Mablethorpe.
"At last they got an answer from Mablethorpe, a cottage such as they wished for thirty shillings a week. There was immense jubilation. Paul was wild with joy for his mother's sake. She would have a real holiday now. He and she sat at evening picturing what it would be like. Annie came in, and Leonard, and Alice, and Kitty. There was wild rejoicing and anticipation. Paul told Miriam. She seemed to brood with joy over it. But the Morel's house rang with excitement." DH Lawrence Sons and Lovers 1913
Mablethorpe hosts the UK's only beach hut festival in September every year - they call the festival 'Bathing Beauties.'
Next-up for a look, is North Somercotes. A copy-and-paste from Wikipedia: North Somercotes was famous throughout the county of Lincolnshire for its village carnival in which brightly decorated floats with both children and adults dressing up wound the streets of the village once a year, usually in mid July (in Cancer). A young teenage village beauty was traditionally chosen to be the Rose Princess and a much younger girl was chosen to be the Princess's attendant. The Princess was crowned during the event. The last of these carnivals took place in 2000.
The experts tell-us the place-name means something totally banal - the pasture where herds graze in Summer - nah.....
The old Anglo Saxon word 'somraeden' written as 'somercotes' to de-paganise-it, means, quite-simply wedlock.
The village called Louth is not far-off - the name seems to be based-on the Anglo Saxon word for a pond, 'luh.' On the other-hand, it might well-be based on 'lufu,' as that means affection, strong-liking, love, and favour. I dare-say that the experts would, not being able to 'get' it, opt for the old 'personal-name' option on this one. Mr Louth lives here, that kind-a-thing. We - of course - are in a far-better position though. We can see that a pond, and love and affection,added to the wedlock of Somercotes - are part of a pattern-set whose informing archetype is the goddess vibration of the zodiac-sign Cancer the crab.
Briefly going inland again, to the city we all associate with stainless-steel implements related to cooking and eating Cancer's food - Sheffield. Sheffield lies within the valleys of the rivers Loxley, Porter Brook, Rivelin and the Sheaf, and according to the experts the name Sheffield derives from the River Sheaf, which runs through the city. All I can say is that I agree wholeheartedly - sheaves are what we call a bundle of wheat or barley - food, food, food. And 'sheffs,' er.. chefs are all-about cooking-and-eating food too. Alchemy of a high-order went-on here and their wizards came-up with Stainless Steel.
They also came-up with a modern industrial-scale process of making high-quality steel in a Cancerian chalice - they call it Crucible Steel.
Moving back toward the east-coast again, Market Rasen, one of three Rasens in the area, are all known to the locals as Rasen. The nearest Anglo Saxon word I can find to help understand this place-name is 'raecan,' to carry, to convey, to stretch-out, extend. Knowing, as we do, that Rasen is in the leading-edges of a gigantic-pair of wings of a hermaphrodite - extending and stretching-out make perfect aerial-sense. And carrying is quite definitely a word associated with wings, and pregnancy, as is stretching.
Scunthorpe's right-on our Cancerian alignment too - called Escumetorp in the Domesday Book. The closest word to the first-syllable 'esc' is 'esa,' and that's the name of a divinity associated with springs and pools - such water-guardians are always female so 'Esa' is a goddess - just one more holy-female to add to the list of holy-females we've encountered in the Cancer segment of the British landscape. The second syllable 'cume' would be 'cuman,' land, be born, arrive; become, happen. The final syllable is usually taken to refer to a thorpe, the Viking-word for a town. But I'm not going-down that foreign-route - it's too simplistic. Here at Scunthorpe I say that-it refers to a watch-tower, a 'tor.' I can say it simply-because, taken in-context with all we've seen on this alignment, a watch-tower of the birth or arrival of the divine woman fits-the-pattern and makes perfect-sense.
Like Whitstable, Scunthorpe is associated with alchemy - the rocks from around-here were used to make iron and steel - the blast-furnaces belching-fire are portrayed on the town's coat-of-arms, as are oysters and an alchemic motif.
as above, so below
The green shield and golden wheatsheaf recall that the area was until recently agricultural in nature - this is the sign of agriculture and farming. Across the center of the shield is a length of chain. This refers to five villages that linked together as one - but it also refers to the themes we've previously witnessed - rings and chains. At the top of the shield are two fossils of the species 'gryphoea incurva' - devil's toenails. These fossilized oysters were found in the rock strata from which the ironstone was quarried. The crest shows a blast furnace. They tell-us that this is what is referred to in the motto: Refulget labores nostros coelum or the heavens reflect our labours, which, they say, is attributed to the glow in the night sky from the steel-making activities... but is in truth an hermetic-device that reads: as above, so it is below..
ship and bridge
A two-masted ship - a square-rigger is known as a 'brig.' The 'brig' is the dungeon or cell in the bottom of a ship - you'd be thrown-in-there in the pitch-dark, in-chains - if you'd transgressed ships-law. Brigg is the name of a town too, in this sign of the ship, the cell, the womb and the tomb.
Sewn-plank and dug-out boats have been unearthed in the town, dated to around 900BC.
In Anglo Saxon times this was a major access and crossing-point on the River Ancholme, and the village was called Glanford.- 'glan' means building - building refers, of course, to both ships/boats and physical-bodies - built on the land and in the womb respectively. The suffix, 'ford' is a shallow-crossing in a river - symbolic of wombs and tombs in ancient England, a crossing-place from one world to another, from the world of the unborn to life, from life to the great-hereafter - banks of a river, baptismal in nature, and watched over by female guardian-spirits of the goddess.
In fact though - in Anglo Saxon 'brig' was how they spelled bridge. A bridge was imbued with as-much-mystique if not awe and reverence as a ford - and mostly for the same reasons - but in the olde mind-set of the ancient thinker building-of-bridges was regarded as a divine-act - an act of magical-will, and bridges were revered as 'religious' places, shrines, altars - places of offering sacrifice - places to pray for divine-help in getting to the other-side, as you hang-suspended in the air over an abyss of certain-death. The Pope is known as the 'Pontiff' - the bridge-builder
In the 1190s, the lord of the manor, Adam Paynel, founded a hospital for the poor in the town. Several small chapels also existed during medieval times, with another hospital and chapel founded by William Tyrwhitt in 1441.
I stuck a pin in-the-map and noticed it was stuck in the fishing-town of Grimsby. According to legend, Grimsby was founded by some proper-hard geezer in welly-boots, Grim, a Danish fisherman - love-it. It's total hog-wash though, in my humble(ish) opinion. Natives of Grimsby call-themselves (proudly) Grimbarians.
You may remember from part 11 that we met this fella called Grim before? At Grimes Graves, the ear-hole of our big-lass/lad. In the tales, 'Grim,' mask and 'Grimnir,' masked one, are names adopted by Woden/Odin when travelling incognito amongst mortals.
When you consider that Grimsby is located on the leading-edges of a pair of gigantic wings, flapping with huge-power at great-speed these wings would slap-together with a great-noise and commotion - and that helps-to make sense of some of the other, fearsome aspects of the group-of-words with 'grim' prefixing-them: 'grimm' is bitter, painful, savage, 'grimman' to hasten-on, 'grimful' fierce and violent. and 'griming' is a spectre. To silly-old-me, these are descriptions of the violent activity of wings - as-well-as what you might call the contents of a dream or nightmare - the voice of the subconscious-mind.
In the entire country there are only four hospitals catering specifically to animals, and one-of-them's in Grimsby, operated by a charity (founded 1897) called Blue-Cross.
Haile Sands Fort
I was gonna nip-across the Humber Estuary about here to have a look at Spurn Head, but when I scanned across the waters I noticed these marine-defenders, standing there in the briny. The two forts Haile Sand Fort and Bull Sand Fort were first-planned in 1914 to protect the entrance to the Humber estuary. They took more than four years to build, standing 59 ft above the water with a diameter of 82 ft. and construction, starting in 1915, was not finished until 1919 - doh! The war was finished by-then. But never-mind. They were so solidly, well-built that they did-them-up a-bit and reactivated them for WW2 - they had the German sh*^ thrown-at-them from the sky - but they survived. There was accommodation for 200 soldiers. One of them - Bull Sands - has found new-life as a healing-sanctuary - a 'rehab' facility to be more precise about-it, run-by the Streetwise Charitable Trust. They're calling the fort, and the project, the Island Of Hope.
There's been unending-debate about the meaning of the Humber's name - one-and-all look-at-it as though some Jonny from foreign-parts was responsible for naming-it - that's 'historical-fact' for you - blinkers. I looked at the river's-name in the Native tongue, silly-me.... I found the word 'humen,' very-close to 'humb' of Humber, and discovered that it means sacred-song, 'humen' is pronounced hymn. Hmm.... it's no-secret that the ancients feared and revered rivers as much as springs and wells, they were and are sacred, holy, awe-inspiring - worthy-of-song - worthy of prayer - worthy of a fitting-name.... Hymn as a river's-name makes all-that pretty-clear, beyond-dispute.
And when you know, as the ancients did, that the river of sacred-song demarcs and outlines - forms - the upper-edge of the hermaphrodite-gods'-mighty-wings - then the prosaic-notion of an angel or god rising to the heavens on wings that sing hallelujah, glory, aum.... takes-on something of a geomorphic, yet dream-like realism. I do wonder, quite-often, where such surrealistic, phantasmal imagery originated. I somehow can't imagine ancient-mankind rearranging the entire landscape to fit some fictional-idea that some old-shaman had dreamed-up, can you?
The fact-is, as I see-it - the British-landscape did the imagery first, and we liked-it. In fact, we liked it so much that we based our understanding of 'the sacred' world, entirely on-it and what it showed the ancient wise-ones.
I've probably never mentioned this before - everywhere north of the wings, that's everywhere north of the Humber, not being within our winged-one, represents the visible-parts of our bearn's Mother. I thought I ought-to mention it about-here, seeing-as we're about to go and look at her body - concealed behind the cherub's outstretched-wings.
Nottingham - the alleged stomping-ground of that infamous-outlaw, beggar, thief - champion of the poor - pure poppy-wotsit in my deranged-opinion. As far-as I'm concerned, Robin Hood and his Merrye-Men never came anywhere near the-place, but are more-likely to have frequented Kent, and the place-names on the Kentish landscape back-me-up on that - so let's forget about Robin Hood, shall-we? I'd rather see-things with fresh-eyes - my-own - unclouded by the erudite-opinions of the experts.
I'm looking for traces and signs of the goddess in Nottingham, ain't I? The beautiful maid - Marian - comes-to-mind, and the theme of courting she brings as baggage, but I'm leaving that myth alone - I'm thinking of knots, ain't I? And lace-making, something Nott's is renowned-for.
Any-road, the place was called Tigguo Cobauc, way-back-then. i had-to-laugh when I read-this in Wikipedia: When it fell under the rule of a Saxon chieftain named Snot it became known as "Snotingaham"; the homestead of Snot's people. Hoo hoo hooooo - well-funny - 'Snot's People', oh ho ho hoo hoooo.
OK, I've regained my composure - it's got nothing to-do with old-Snot, OK? I looked in the forbidden-to-historian's book - the Anglo Saxon Dictionary, and looked-up the prefix, and found 'tiggu,' earthen-vessel, crock, pot,; and brick, tile for roofing. Uh huh.
The 1st syllable of the suffix is equally intelligible, a 'cob' is a mixture of clay and straw, used as a building material. It had another, related sense too - it also meant a rounded lump or mass. That's the Moon and a pregnant maid, to my-mind.
Any-road - we know what they did with those building-materials, don't we? They built a ruddy-great castle - genocidal-bleeding-Normans. They needed protection from the English - we hated-them, with a vengeance - they weren't liked. We never allowed-them to name any already named-places - or if they did, we soon erased it and continued using the old name.
Think-about it - the Anglo Saxons (Germans) renamed EVERY-PLACE in England - according to orthodoxy - after the Romans went-home. Yet the 'invasion-force' of Anglo Saxons - and their subsequent occupation of England - was no larger than the West Indian Immigration to London in the 20th century. How did they do THAT when neither the Normans nor the Romans could - both much bigger and stronger invaders.
The genetic-evidence doesn't back-up the Anglo Saxon invasion and subsequent dominance myth - very-few individuals in this country have that particular genetic-strain of that North German tribe - excavated bones from allegedly Anglo Saxon dominated villages, reveal that the Anglo Saxon DNA is very-much in the minority, and that those that were genetically Anglo Saxon, were in-fact NOT the ruling classes but were the lowly, labouring, worn-down peasant class. The Native's bones showed a better life-style and diet than the Anglo Saxon's bones.
The truth is - (and I'm not on my own with this) - the Anglo Saxons came to a land that already spoke a form of their language - it was our native tongue and ALL the place-names pre-existed their alleged invasion. I'm forced-by the conventions to continually refer to the Native language as Anglo Saxon, knowing all-the-while it's a false-identification - but I don't have much-choice in the matter - no-one would know what I was talking-about if I didn't call the language Anglo Saxon.
And of course, the more-modern place-name Nottingham, shouts goddess, goddess, goddess - I have to say that knots are definitely NOT male-things - knots are at the very-core of lace-making, which Nott's is, as I said, renowned-for - whilst tying-the-knot is a very-old metaphor for marriage, and a knot that's tied on the day of your birth is a permanent sign of one's physical-connection to one's source - your mother, and life itself - a knot is a puzzle, a riddle to be solved... a knotty-problem indeed.
And in the other context - the babe on the lap at mother's bosom - where Nott's and its knots are located, is more-or-less where baby's wings meet - could knots be a reference to that? Y'know - the wings flap so-rapidly they sometimes seem to be in danger of getting knotted (knitted).
On the matter of the Cancerian motif of houses and homes - during the Industrial Revolution, Nottingham's prosperity was founded on the textile industry. As I mentioned, it was an internationally important centre of lace manufacture. However, the rapid growth left Nottingham with the worst slums in Britain, outside of India.
And finally - back-there in Kent we found - on the road out-of Canterbury - a door-hook and certain boxes and chests that required closing and locking-up as much as unlocking and opening - Hackington, Clowes Wood, Convicts Wood, Chestfield etc etc - allusions for wombs and tombs - and now here in the Maidlands (Midlands) we discover a whole city named after a method of securing things soundly - knots. I just-thought it-was worth a mention.
Going north a little is a town that goes-back some 4000 years, named after udders I think - Huddersfield they invented a game often called the toughest, most physically demanding of team sports, where 13 blokes on each-side throw and kick an egg-shaped bladder about a field - Rugby Union.
I can't help it - the egg-shape is as feminine as you can get, and the number 13 is too - it's a number associated with the Moon - there are 13 lunations or lunar-cycles in a solar-year, for one example, and, after the day of New Moon there's 13 days until the day of Full Moon; and after full Moon day there are 13 days until New Moon day.
The remains of a Roman fort were dug-up in the 18th century at nearby Slack - yes, that is a place-name. On top of Castle Hill there used-to-be a fort built sometime in the Iron Age - ain't nothing-but the name Castle Hill left now though, and no sign of a castle.
The village, as it was then, was noted in the old Book of Doom as Odresfeld. Hmm - I tried pretty-hard to match that name in the AS dictionary, and the nearest I could get was the word 'oden,' which ain't, as you might suspect, that old Father God of the Scandinavians, Woden/Odin.... no, it actually means a threshing-floor.
thresh and winnow
A threshing floor was what we had before the advent of the threshing-machine in the 19th century. The actual threshing-floor was a specially created flat-area often tiled or paved and it was either owned by an entire village or by a single family. It was usually located outside the village in a place exposed to the wind, where they would thresh the grain and then winnow it. Threshing is basically thrashing (tanning) the stalks of wheat or barley with sticks (tans) which separates the grain from the stalk. Winnowing is where the threshed grain and the chaff are separated by throwing them into the air in a breeze - the breeze blows the unwanted lighter-material away and the prized-grain drops into a pile on the threshing-floor. Then you take the cleaned-grain to the mill where it's ground into meal or flour - and then the people can be nourished, and live.
The nearest city to Huddersfield's threshing-floor is Bradford, 10 miles distant - recorded as Bradeford in 1086. The experts say that this simply signifies a broad-ford, a wide-crossing on a river, a bridge. I've no argy-bargy with that - rivers and bridges are what this sign is all about. But 'braede' has more connotations than broad - in fact, it's where we get the word for bread - in Anglo Saxon 'braede' means make broad, stretch-out, be-extended, rise, grow; it's also roast, toast, bake, boil, broil, cook and roast-meat. You could hardly spell-out food any bolder than that.
Keighley was first noted as Cichhelai - if I tell you that chicken is spelled 'cicen' in Anglo Saxon would that help persuade you that this place-name is talking about birds - y'know, chicks - but the scribe (a French bloke) who recorded the village's existence at the time of ye olde Domesday Book didn't know how to write chicken - that's my explanation for Keeley's - I mean Keighley's otherwise nonsensical-name. The fact is - they could spell-things pretty-much how they liked back-in-the-day before grammar got invented - that's why we find place-names in old documents spelled in several different ways in the same document, including the Book Of Doom.
the Corn Exchange, Leeds
Pro Rege Et Lege
Leeds is just over there, not far-off as the crow flies. The city took-its-name from the ancient forest it was once within - the Forest of Loidis - Loidis became warped over-time into what we call it today - Leeds. The first syllable 'loid' does-not exist in Anglo Saxon - 'leod' being the alternative - 'leod' is the People, the Nation, and that's very appropriate in this sign of the Masses, the People.
From being a little market town in the valley of the River Aire, in the 16th century Leeds expanded and absorbed the surrounding villages to become the populous urban center we know today. In the 17th century Leeds became a major centre for the production and trading of wool. Then Leeds developed into a major industrial town with wool as the main bread-winner, but flax, iron-foundries and a few-other home and People-oriented industries were pretty important around these-parts.
The Coat-of-Arms of the city features 3 owls - like the wolves in the tarot card of the Moon, they are creatures of the night - their light is the Moon, ruler of Cancer. The owl has always been viewed as wisdom personified or a bringer of wisdom. The all-seeing owl possesses supernatural qualities and is associated with intuition, clairvoyance and clairaudience - the realm of the subconscious and the Moon. The owl’s energy is - like the wolf - at its peak in the very heart of darkness, when we are plunged into blindness and disorientation. She penetrates the darkness of the blackest night, seeing and hearing that which others cannot.
The motto attached to the image of the night-bird, 'Pro Rege Et Lege,' means For King and the Law - if that ain't the voice of The People then I don't know what is.
wake-up & die
When we put a dead-un (a person) into the chest-of-wood that is their chariot to the-next-world, we used-to, but don't do-it so-much nowadays, hold a wake, a ceremony that would take-place in their house, with their corporeal-shell present, in the box.
'Wake' means become or stay alert, which harks-back to the antiquated idea of watch or guard. A rite which highlights the idea that the loss is one of a group and affects that group as a whole
In 1752 Richard Pococke watched a wake in County Down: I saw a number of women in an adjacent cabin, and my curiosity led me to go in, it was a wake over the body of an old man, who was stretched on the floor and covered with a sheet. About 3 feet above the corpse was a board covered with a white cloth, on which they place candles; and the women sit round the corpse, they are entertained with a spirit of Barley, call'd whiskey, with Tobacco and sometimes with bread, cake, &c, and frequently drink to excess with such instances of mortality before their eyes, and this they look on as an act of Devotion.
I mention all-this because of Wakefield - dubbed the Merrie City in the Middle Ages - in 1538 John Leland described it as: a very quick market town and meately large; well served of fish and flesh both from sea and by rivers ... so that all vitaile is very good and chepe there. A right honest man shall fare well for 2d. a meal. ... there be plenti of se coal in the quarters about Wakefield.
The Book of Doom had-it as Wachefeld and Wachefelt. In Anglo Saxon the prefix 'wac' is closer to the modern meaning of wake - it means to wake, arise - but has the important other meanings of be born, originate.
How odd it seems that the meanings birth and death should originate in the same word - wake! But how very-appropriate in this sign of the womb and tomb, don't you think?
When we add the suffix 'field' this is all bolstered by a doubling of the birth/death theme - in a most Cancerian fashion. A field is an agricultural-space, for growing food. But that field was formerly full of trees - they were felled (killed, fallen) and where they once stood was named a 'feld' as memorial of the trees, which became the word field. So our word for the place where we grow our food (life) is named-after the fallen - the dead. So Wake (be born + mourn the dead) allied with Field (life + death) is a clever-old conundrum, innit? One that can only be properly-solved with the knowledge that Wakefield resides in the sign of the Goddess, womb and tomb, chest.
And the same is true of nearby Pontefract, in the borough of Wakefield city - the themes we've started to grow familiar-with stand-out in neon in Pontefract. The town has a motto: 'Post mortem patris pro filio,' the Latin for after the death of the father, support the son. I must admit - I never expected to see the tomb writ so boldly upon the map. One-of the other themes stands-out like a sore-thumb here too. According to the experts Pontefract is Latin for broken (fracto) bridge (ponte). Maybe it is but I've still gotta see how it comes-out in Anglo Saxon. In that old lingo 'ponte' is a pond, cistern, lake, and 'fract' is 'frec' dangerous. The Latin and Anglo Saxon sort-of agree on the meaning - a broken bridge and a dangerous-lake.
Pontefract Castle started-out as a wooden motte and bailey, built before 1086 and later rebuilt in stone. In Elizabethan times the castle, and Pontefract itself, was referred to as Pomfret. Richard II was murdered at the castle in 1400. Shakespeare mentions the castle in Richard III:
Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, Fatal and ominous to noble peers! Within the guilty closure of thy walls Richard the second here was hack'd to death; And, for more slander to thy dismal seat, We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink.
I know that we're leaping-about all-over the map - sorry about that. I want to nip-back over-there, to the east-coast and the river-of Hymns, to what I can only-describe as a withered-tit. In modern English it's called Spurn Head - in the Middle Ages, Spurn Head was home to the port of Ravenspurn. An earlier village, closer to the point of Spurn Head, was Ravenser Odd. The sea has gobbled-them-up now, but you can still see the remains of some WW1defences - two 9.2-inch coastal artillery batteries were installed at either end of Spurn Head, with 4-inch and 4.7-inch quick firing guns placed in between.
'Spurn' is an action - to show disdain or contempt, to scorn something - or someone. I wonder who? On the landward-end of Spurn is one village that take the message in various directions - but taken as a whole my mind is drawn in the direction of the 'old' goddess with withered-breasts and bony, scarred ribs, Sheila Nagig. But I'll come to her in a moment - let's look-at the places first.
Before an infant gets spurned by mother's-breast because the baby's grown-teeth, and has to be weaned, mother's breast is the source of-all-easement - baby-cries and mother's nipple appears between baby's lips. The village of Easington seems to be saying exactly the-same thing.
The prefix 'ease' has no precise-match in Anglo Saxon, but it doesn't matter that much - the initial-elements of the place-name amount to much-the-same. 'Ea' is a pool, a spring, a river, in that olde tongue. And 'Esa' is the name of the divinity associated with springs, rivers, wells, pools etc. To the ancients who knew-her, the goddess of the waters amounted to ease and easement.
In summary then, Easington was a clear-reference, in the minds of the 'eld,' to a female divinity associated with healing, nourishment and infants. The 'eld' were well-aware of the things I've been laying-out in these articles - they knew about the winged-one, and they knew about its Mother and her fruitful, yet withered, breasts.
Se Landa Gig
Withered breasts are figured again at Withernsea. In Anglo Saxon, 'wither' appears within many, many words - mostly words about rejection, disdain, disgust, and so-forth. But it also appears in words of support, assistance and nurture.
'With,' the prefix, means much the same today, as back-then - with, by, near, against, beside, near, opposite, towards, to, at, against.
'Withceosan' is to reject, rejected, outcast.
'Withcwethan,' contradict, oppose, forbid, refuse, deny, reject and renounce.
On the matter of the so-called Sheela Nagig, she of the gaping-vulva/labia and skinny flat teats - the experts haven't got the faintest-idea who-she-is or what she represents. They interpreted and reinterpreted her 'name' into fifteen-trillion dialects and lost-languages. I'll quickly quote renowned expert HC Lawlor in Man Vol.31, Jan 1931 (Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland): The term "sheela-na-gig" has no etymological meaning and is an absurd name. Other experts agree with him (so do I). Andersen, Weir, Jerman and Freitag all dismiss the name as being modern and somewhat arbitrary.
In my opinion - if they'd have tried to make-sense of her 'name' in Anglo Saxon - the Native tongue - they'd have solved the 'mystery' a long-time-ago. It feels odd to be agreeing with the egg-heads on this-one - Sheela Nagig IS NOT her name. No-more than Son Of God is Jesus' - they are epithets.
I avow and insist that the epithet Sheela Nagig has been misspelled - in Anglo Saxon it would read: 'Se Landa Gig' - pronounced pretty-much the same - she landa gig, and it identifies her as She who is Kin to the Vultures.
'Gig' also suggests she is gigantic, and 'landa' that she is in fact, the land, and more specifically, a ridge in a ploughed-field.
Thus, she is a ploughed furrow on fertile-land - she is fertility and life - the womb - and she 'takes-care-of' the dead - she is womb and tomb - life and death.
Most if-not-all traces of ancient goddess-veneration - in this land - have been erased to satisfy the woman-haters who took control of our minds for over two-thousand-years - when we look for clues as to what was going-on back-then we have no-choice but to look to those-lands where - mostly by accident - records were preserved, buried beneath encroaching deserts of sand. I'm speaking of the ancient Egyptians. They had a couple-of goddesses (at-least) who were associated with fertility and death, and protection, one of them actually had a vulture's-head though both are associated with vultures - they had the wings of a vulture too.
One of them was known as Nekhbet - the other Mat/Maut.
As a vulture-goddess, Nekhbet was known-as the goddess of heaven. Sometimes she was the Sun when she was called 'the Eye of Re' and at other times she was the Moon. She was the protectress of the deceased-king and of the non-royal deceased. As such, she was represented as a vulture, extending one wing to the front and the other to the ground, flying above the person she was protecting.
The priestesses of Nekhbet were called muu (mothers) and wore robes of vulture-feathers..The images of these two goddesses were known-as the Two Ladies. Given the early and constant association of Nekhbet with being a good mother, in later myths she was said to have adopted children.
The vulture hieroglyph was used for words such as mother, prosperous, grandmother, and ruler. In some late texts of the Book of the Dead, Nekhbet is referred to as Father of Fathers, Mother of Mothers, who hath existed from the Beginning, and is Creatrix of this World.
The other - more senior - goddess was called Maut/Mut - the sacred lake outside her temple in Karnak (Thebes), was in the shape of the crescent Moon - the feather-of-truth (a vulture's) she wears in her hair.
Her name means mother - the hieroglyph for Maut's name was that of the vulture - the ancients believed they were all female and conceived their children with the wind - the wind was also judged to be female, in the Egyptian's sacred scheme-of-things. Because she had no parents, but was created from nothing, she could not have children and so adopted one instead.
After her role in the Creation and continuously preventing the universe from returning to Chaos, her main-role dealt with the weighing of souls that took place in the underworld. Her vulture-feather was the measure that determined whether the souls of the departed would reach paradise successfully.
But, we'd better get-back to the map.
I'll stop heading north for the moment because I want to define or outline the upper-edges of these mighty wings-that-sing with slightly-more definition - if that's possible in the limited-space of this article. Heading along the singing Humber once-more we find ships - ships-aplenty. My dad was in the Merchant and Royal Navy's and the minesweeper he served-on was berthed-here, at Hull.
Hull is the place where my Great-Mother was born - Hull. Mum and dad met and they eloped to my dads mum's house (my future Grandma) in Whitstable,, and, as they say, the rest is history.
I can't tell-you how much I love that soft Yorkshire-accent - I was brought-up in Whitstable and speak Estuary- but the sound of a Yorkshire accent is music-to-my-soul.
A 'hull' is a ship - no disputing that - it fits perfectly perfect. Hull is all ports and docks and ships - in-spades. But Hull fits in other-ways too, of-course. The original village around which Hull grew was actually called Wycke. In Anglo Saxon there was no letter 'k.' Wycke would then have been more-like 'wycce.' 'Wic,' how it's orthodoxly-interpreted, works OK in this-case. 'Wic' is house, dwelling, home, & Cancer is the sign of the house and home.
But 'wicce' is also a witch, and 'wicca' is a soothsayer, wizard, magician. I'm thinking witches dwelling for then we have both a house and a goddess-oriented woman - summed-up in the modern-name, Hull, a womb and a tomb - ships-between the dimensions, the 3-worlds.
And of course - it's a witches-house, a ship between the worlds that just-happens to-be perched-atop the outstretched-wings of a flying entity whose wings sing as-they-flap.
Slipping-along the top-edge of those hymning-wings, we arrive at Manchester. I'll ignore the experts and their assertion that the place-name is based-on some Roman-Fort - even-though defences do work-in my-view-of-things favour, re: this 'occult-map' of the world. and this region's propensity, therefore, to emphasise defences - because-of the sign Cancer.
They-say the fort and the area was called, in Latin, Mamucium also known as Mancunium. I'm going-with the second-version of-the-name.
As I've said, the Moon is the sign-of the masses - the People (with a big 'P'). 'Man,' the prefix then and now, meant exactly the-same to the ancients as it means to-us - mankind, man - I make that remark so that you don't think that 'man' is a reference to the male-half of the species - man is The People.
The prefix 'cunian' has an exact-match in the olde-lingo: 'cunnian,' means to seek-for, investigate; and experience, have experience-of.
How about that? A notably-friendly city that meant - to the ancients - Experience People, Mankind.
The meaning of the place-name says more than I can.
In its modern-form, the place-name still says-enough without an explanatory intervention from me: Man Chest er.
On the matter of those musical-wings, in modern-times the city has produced more internationally-renowned artists, musicians and groups than any other city in this country. You don't have-to be born-there - many groups form there with members from diverse other places - but the vibes that accumulate here make new-musical things occur. I'll mention just a few of the names: In the '50s the city was home to the 'Manchester School' of classical composers, and the city has two symphony-orchestras, and a 'chamber' orchestra - 'chamber' is of-course an enclosed-space, a box - a room in a house.
The Smiths, Morrisey, Happy Mondays, Buzz Cocks, Joy Division, New Order, The Fall, Oasis, Inspiral Carpets, Stone Roses, Chemical Brothers, The Hollies, Herman's Hermits, The Monkees, The Bee Gees,
Manchester takes musical-education very-seriously - there's the Royal Northern College of Music and Chetham's School Of Music - they and their fore-runners have been teaching-music in Manchester since about 1893..The city sings - it joins-in with the River Of Sacred-Song on the other-end of these humming-wings, the Humber.
16 miles north is Wigan - writ as Wigan in 1199, Wygayn in 1240, and Wygan in numerous old documents - needless to say then, they've-got (the experts) no-idea of what it means and never saw an Anglo Saxon Dictionary... so it's up-to-me to tell you what it means.
A 'wighus' was a battlement, a tower - that's defences innit? But it's also a whole-lot of intrinsically-related 'lunar' attributes that automatically went-with defences in the olde tymes - 'wigle' was divination while 'wigian' was to fight - in those-days, y'see, you never engaged in any military-fight without consulting a soothsayer - 'wiglian' was to take-auspices, divine, and 'wiglung' was soothsaying, augury, witchcraft and sorcery. The enchantress herself - the soothsayer, was known as the 'wiglere.'
In the 1830s Wigan was one of the first towns in Britain to be served by a railway - and began to dominate as a cotton town, which lasted until the middle of the 20th century - the last working cotton mill, May Mill, ground-to-a-halt and closed in 1980.
There's a medieval stone-cross in the town with a legend involving a naughty-gal - Mabbs Cross it's called. Lady Mabel Bradshaw, wife of Sir William Bradshaw, did penance by walking from her home, Haigh Hall to the cross once a week barefoot for committing bigamy.
Rick Hall from Kent sculpted an amazing stainless-steel face which is on display permanently in Wigan, watching you go-by with your shopping-bags.
Not far-off is Bolton, which was first recorded in 1185 as Boelton. The experts believe the place-name might mean 'place with a special building,' but they ain't certain about-that, though. The old spelling 'boel' would be phonetically identical with our modern word bowl - I draw your attention to that because the Anglo Saxon Dictionary tells me that 'bolla' is a bowl, cup, pot, beaker, measure; whilst 'bolt' with a 't,' is a means of defence - a 'bolt' is a crossbow bolt. On the other (and final) hand, 'boltimber' is building-timber, timber being the material for building-houses and early-castles.
In 1651 the Earl of Derby was executed outside the Man and Scythe (owned at the time by the Earl of Derby's family). Inside there's a chair that the Earl sat in before being taken outside to have his nut lopped-off. The inscription on the chair reads: 15th October 1651 In this chair James 7th Earl of Derby sat at the Man and Scythe Inn, Churchgate, Bolton immediately prior to his execution.
It just-goes-to-show doesn't it, how reaping the harvest to sustain-life has-been and is permanently welded to the opposite idea - the-end of life and the hereafter....
Milk and Alcohol
Heading east towards the coast - a woman's name appears and attracts my attention - Beverley. But the wool-trading town used to be known as Inderawuda before history came-along and messed-with the name. It's a name that seems-to be going-on-about pools, springs and chalices.
The prefix 'inder' partakes in several watery words - 'indaelan' is to infuse, 'indepan' to dip-in, 'indrincan' drink, imbibe, to be plied with drink, intoxicate. The suffix 'awuda' has no Anglo Saxon match, 'ahwuta' is closest - it means ought, anything, something, and it means at-all, by any-means and good, of value. I think it reads: it is good to drink something, anything, to imbibe - unless I'm misunderstanding and it really-does mean what the experts say it means - in the wood of the men of Deira.
I just can't dig-that - but I'll leave it up to-you to decide what it really means - bearing in mind that this ancient advice concealed in-plain-view within the original place-name is located on the matronly breasts of the goddess - her milk - her sacred-waters - are intoxicating? And valuable. I mean, you only have-to see a hungry-baby's little-face when he/she gets the nipple and milk - their little-eyes roll-up like a drunk's and they look pissed, inebriated, sozzled. I guess its the subconscious memory of this pleasurable-experience in infancy that leads many grown-ups to the bottle - that milk and alcohol are one-and-the-same thing, in experiential-terms?
As Cancer and the Moon are the rulers of the subconscious-mind - and as we all-know, alcoholic intoxication lowers the inhibitions and unveils or reveals the subconscious - the infant-mind that persists through all phases of life - the child ever-remains within. The ancients used-this knowledge to make contact with the gods in ritual-piss-ups designed for that purpose. Alcohol is the 'spirit' of the grains and fruit used to produce the wine, mead or whisky - imbibing these 'spirits' would infuse the drinker with the 'spirits' of the land - opening the doors of the mind to the soul which is in eternal contact with the gods.
Osmium (OS) & Iridium (IR)
Morpheus and Iris
There was a massive-fire in 1188 which destroyed numerous houses, and damaged Beverley Minster. A woman came-to-the-rescue - Lady Sybil de Valines gave the Manor of the Holy Trinity on the east side of Beverley to the Knights Hospitallers in 1201, where they established one-of-their hospital type-things.
The Minster is the local parish-church - and it's bigger than many cathedrals. It's such a Gothic masterpiece that the front-elevation of Westminster Abbey takes its inspiration from Beverley. There's a 'frith-stool' inside the church - the ultimate defensive-shield in former times - you could leg-it into the church being hotly pursued by the gavvers, and all you had to do was sit on that stool and the sods had to leave you alone - it was fey-knights if you got to the mercy-seat before they caught ya. Hurrah!
Guardian's and keys snuck-in sidewise at Beverley - the town is the main setting for Domini Highsmith's 'Father Simeon' trilogy: 'Keeper at the Shrine' 1994, 'Guardian at the Gate' 1995 and 'Master of the Keys' 1996.
The town's got a really-old Grammar-School that has produced those with an alchemical-bent - chemist Smithson Tennant, who discovered iridium and osmium. And one of those dudes used his knowledge in political-terrorism - Thomas Percy of the Gunpowder-Plot to try-and blow-up the big-house, Parliament - he won't do THAT again after what they did-to-him - ouch!
Osmian and Iridium are interesting elements - Osmium is silver with a blue tint, the heaviest naturally-occurring element - twice the weight of lead. It's such a hard, brittle metal with a ridiculously high melting-point, that it's almost impossible to machine, form or work., hence there's only two osmium compounds that have applications. The most relevant for our purposes being osmium tetroxide - it's a dye that's used for staining tissue in electron microscopy. No-one claims to know why he called it Osmium - but I believe he named it after the goddess Esa (also writ Os), because the other element he discovered in 1802, Iridium, he named-after the goddess Iris, personification of the rainbow, because of the rainbow-hues of its salts. So, to my-mind, this alchemist who went-to-school on/in the goddess-alignment names his discoveries after two-goddesses - what are the chances of that, eh?
Iris was/is the personification of the rainbow and messenger of the gods. She is one of the goddesses of the sea and the sky. Iris links the gods to humanity. She travels with the speed of wind from one end of the world to the other, and into the depths of the sea and the underworld - just like the Moon.
Market Weighton was listed in the Domesday as Wicstun. - I've hardly mentioned that so-far roughly 90% of the places we've looked at were listed as 'market-towns,' this town is one-of-those too. Markets are the places where the produce of the womb - I mean the land, is gathered-together and sold. Anyway - 'wic' is not merely a Cancerian home, dwelling, village etc, it's also a witch or wiz (wise) woman - one who communicates between the 'spirits' (gods) and mankind.
The suffix 'stun' is derived-from 'stan' or stone. This then is a house-of-stone - a fortified-dwelling..
One famous resident of the house-of-stone was Peg Fyfe, a local witch, who reputedly skinned-alive a local-youngster some-time in the 1660s (before the day of the ASBO), and was later hanged for the crime, but she swallowed a spoon to 'save herself' from what-was-coming, only to be 'finished off' by two passing knights.
Not far-off is the village of Pocklington, which used-to make a lot of dosh from the wool-trade. In Anglo Saxon, the prefix 'pock' would have been 'pocc,' and that's the source of our modern-words pocket and bag - I won't have-to explain the significance of bags when it comes to women, will I? Nor when it comes to keeping-valuables-safe, defended.
Driffield - hmm... in terms-of and in reference to breasts or bosoms then 'dry' of 'dri' the prefix speaks-volumes - junior will go-hungry.
However, according to experts the place-name means a manured-field, which I'll not quibble-with, 'cos that'll be farmed-land, of course - source of our food. However #2: in the olden-tymes 'drif' meant stubble - so it actually means stubble-field. Stubble is the left-over stalks after the wheat-field has been scythed - the basket once-full of the fruit is now dry - the bosom has dried-up, the milk is gone. And when you look-at where this little village/town is located - in the physiological-sense - that-is, on the paps of the Great-Mother, then anything I can say or add is superfluous.
Located on the actual breast is Bridlington, recorded as Bretlinton in the Book-Of-Doom.
They have or had a chalybeat-spring in Bridlington.
In the 17th century - chalybeate water was said to have health-giving properties and many people have promoted its qualities - chalybeate means iron-rich water - good for pregnant-maids and infants. Physicians once-claimed that chalybeate waters contained Vitriol and that the waters could cure:
(...) the colic, the melancholy, and the vapours; it made the lean fat, the fat lean; it killed flat worms in the belly, loosened the clammy humours of the body, and dried the over-moist brain (I've got a touch-of-that)
One physician said, in verse:
These waters youth in age renew
Strength to the weak and sickly add
Give the pale cheek a rosy hue
And cheerful spirits to the sad.
The original-spelling, suffixed 'bret,' is 'breod' or bread. NOT milk, mind-you - bread. I do-believe the scribes of the Domesday were either misled by the locals or were too bashful to write-it as they should have. Very, very close to 'breod' and bread, is the word 'breost,' and that's far more appropriate than bread, 'breost' is breast - bread is appropriate too though - until a baby is weaned, milk is its bread, food, nourishment - mother IS Bread.
In the course of centuries the place-name got warped into its present form - Bridlington - and that name's perfect - Bride, Bridget, Brigantia, midwife to the virgin mary, was very, very beloved of the ancient Brit's - there's a fair-chance that Britain was actually named-after her, according to some, and I think I'll put my shillings-worth on that.
'Brid' meaning bride, was the olde-word we used to speak-of a young, unmarried woman - nowadays a 'bride' defines a woman who is specifically undergoing the ceremony of marriage - but once all unmarried/young-girls were brides - because that was what or whom Bride, Bridget, Brigantia represented - young females. We get the descriptive 'slang' term for a young-woman - a bird and chick - from 'bridd' (two 'd's'), which was the word for a young-chicken - a chick.
To the west are fountains - that-is, Fountains Abbey. I know that by now I'll not-need-to emphasise why fountains are of the Cancerian goddesses - it was a Cistercian Monastery - I don't-care what anyone says- 'cistercian' is phonetically identical with sister-cian, ain't it? Sistershan - of the sisters, surely? Never-mind, the abbey of the fountain was built in a river-valley - valleys are distinctly female, huge furrows in the land where seeds are-planted.
Cistercians are sometimes also called the White Monks, in reference to the colour of their habit, over which a black hood or scapular is worn. One of their chief-aims was what we would describe as renewable-self-sufficiency. The emphasis of Cistercian life was or is on manual labour and self-sufficiency, supporting themselves through agriculture and brewing ale. Such activities are Cancerian in nature.
A 'cist' is a pustule or boil to we moderns - it's based-on the Anglo Saxon word 'cist' for chest, casket, coffin and basket. I'll say-again what I said-above re a sacred-place called Fountains - pure goddess, goddess, goddess, womb, tomb, and sister.
We might-as-well, while we're here, go to the land of the goddesses lakes and topography - distinctly-female - the Lake District - a more-or-less round chunk-of-rock - a massif, which is deeply dissected by massive valleys that are mostly U-shaped, many containing big, elongated lakes. There are many smaller lakes at higher elevations. It's so beautiful that many of the English's best-known, most-beloved poets have written of her - wordy-Wordsworth, for-one with his daffodils.....
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.
Any-road, let's look-at some of the place-names hereabouts.
Barrow in Furness - the first-part of the place-name, Barrai, can be traced back to 1190. The Moon is governess of this sign, and of The people, the population. 'Barian' means to lay-bare, uncover, depopulate - I gather then, that depopulation would also be governed by la lune, in an afflicted, waning-phase. The addition of Furness as suffix, qualifies the statement, as 'fyrn,' the first syllable, is of-old, long ago, formerly, in ancient times. Seems to be an historic-statement regarding the unknown-peoples of the ancient-past. The 'ness' ending, is 'naes,' no, not-at-all. Perhaps then the message is the reverse of depopulation - that in the ancient times they did not depopulate? You'll have to figure-it-out for y'self.
Windermere was called Winandermere until the 19th century. Prefix 'win' is wine - a lake of wine? Let's not forget - wine is a product of alchemy, in which the spirit of the grape is 'released' from its corporeal-body, captured in a retort, concentrated - and transferred to-you. The second syllable, 'anda' is 'andet,' one who confesses, and 'mere,' usually taken to mean lake, cistern, pool, but, depending on context, also had the meaning of excellent, sublime, splendid, and pure sterling (silver). Silver is governed by the Moon, of course. Again, I'll leave-it to-you to work-out the precise meaning of the name Winandermere, I wanna move-on, to.....
There's a wolf on the coat-of-arms of the town of Ulverston, in the book-of-doom it was noted as Ulurestun. 'Ulf' is wulf - and with wulf being the only-word in the dictionary with 'U' and 'L' in-that-order - then wolf it-is. The second-syllable 'restun' is no-doubt 'restan' in AS, to repose, rest, lie, remain. The motto on the coat-of-arms means a little is enough.
To this, the orthodox say that 'wulf' was some-dude's personal-name, as they do, to which I always say - prove-it - I love saying that, monkey that-I-am, because only in extremely rare-cases can they do-that, and prove-it. I copied-and-pasted this from Wikipedia's page about Ulverston:
The first (part of the name) is either the Old Norse personal name Úlfarr (wolf warrior), or the Old English Wulfhere (wolf army); the second element is the Old English tūn, meaning 'farmstead' or 'village.'
But, as you've seen-here - the syllables can-be divided-up differently - as above.
So, in-my-eyes, Ulverston is the wolf's lair, and not the village of the army of Úlfarr, as the experts prefer it.
Rock-around-the-clock icon Bill Hailey's mum was born here, as was Stan Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame.
Seascale may-be on-the-coast, but the place-name has very-little to-do-with - directly-speaking - the sea - it 'makes' the connection via allusion only. In our olde tongue 'sea' describes the 'quality' of wetness - 'sea' = juice, sap, moisture, succulence - whilst 'scale' the suffix means to-be-obliged (shall, have, must, must-needs, am bound-to, have-to). In the astrological view-of-things, all wet-things are controlled-by, governed or ruled by the Moon, ruler of Cancer.
Egremont was granted a charter for a market and annual fair by Henry III in 1266. The resulting annual Crab Fair now hosts the World Gurning Championships. I won't bother explaining the significance of the crab-fair.
The prefix 'egre' is Anglo Saxon 'egor,' flood, high-tide, while the suffix 'mont' is actually 'mona,' the Moon.
Maryport marks the western-end of Hadrian's Wall, and was originally called Alauna. That's very-nearly a woman's-name - Alana - and given that the English later called the place after Mary, it's a fair-assumption that Alauna was indeed the personal-name of a divine-female. Let's take that name apart, in Anglo Saxon:
The first-syllable 'Al' is all, every, whole, entire, universal, all-men, fully, wholly, entirely, most-of-all, always, everywhere, into-most-parts. The suffix 'auna' means to unite.
The English-name for the place, Maryport, is-telling - Mary is the name of that very-well-known maiden who gave-birth to that-bloke that later had-a-spot-of-bover with the Jewish elders for saying that he was more-popular than the Beetles - and got nailed-up one-Friday afternoon, about tea-time.
'Port,' the suffix, is a place frequented by ships - but in its original-sense it means doorway, entrance - so Maryport says: here is the entrance into the goddess called Mary.
The experts (and others) reckon that Aspatria is a Scandinavian place-name meaning something along the lines of the Ash-tree of St Patrick - I say nah thrice-times. In Anglo Saxon 'asprytan,' very-close to the place-name, means to sprout-out, to spring-forth. There are a number-of-ways to interpret the meaning of that, but suffice to say that all the interpretations are to-do-with our goddess, ain't they.
In 1889, one of England’s first farmers’ co-operatives was established here with offices in the market square, from 1874 until 1925.
Sir Wilfred Lawson MP lived at Brayton Hall just outside town. He was a committed nonconformist and a leader of the Temperance Movement. His memorial stands in the market square, topped by a bronze effigy of St George slaying the dragon – said to represent the demon drink.
Butlins Skegness '60s
Moving back to the east-coast, into what works-out to be the goddess's cleavage, we light-upon Filey, where Butlins used to be - holiday-camps are homes-away-from-home.
The first Butlin's camp was at Skegness in 1936. Holiday camps, at the time, took at most a few hundred campers - Butlin's, from the beginning could accommodate two thousand. Billy Butlin's first venture in Skegness was a fairground. Whilst running that business he noticed that many of his customers were stopping in boarding houses in the town and decided to do something about that. He opened the second camp at Clacton in 1938 - while he was getting ready to open the camp at Filey the 2nd world-war broke-out - defenders (soldiers) moved-in for the duration and the military sold-it-back to Billy after the war.
Anyroad - this place-of-pleasure at Filey is, you'll recall, upon the pap of the bewinged-hermaphrodite's mother (filly, a female-horse under the age-of-four - also slang for a young-woman); in Anglo Saxon 'fili' means fill, satisfy, fill-up, fullness, completion. This needs-no further explanation from me, I feel - though I ought remind myself that this-sign Cancer is ruled by the Moon which - once a month - waxes full, fills-up - did the ancients, I wonder, think of the Moon as a breast that is sometimes full, and sometimes empty - of milk?
It seems that they did, and it's the words they wrote on the landscape that says so.
Are you going, to Scarborough fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who goes-there,
She once-was a true-love of mine.
It's a very-old and well-known song.- at least fifteenth-century - and relates the tale of a young man who asks the listener to tell his former lover to do for him a series of impossible tasks - making him a shirt without a seam and then washing it in a dry well, and that if she completes these jobs he will take her back. The song is sung as a duet, with the woman then giving her lover a series of equally impossible tasks, promising to give him his seamless shirt once he has finished.
The town is where, I guess, the goddess's ribs are - you'll recall that She Landa Gig has notable-ribs, because they were scarred. I do-believe that the town's-name reflects that 'reality.' The prefix 'scar' takes-us back to the origins of the word - a 'scar' is actually a ploughshare, it leaves a scar in the earth into which seed is sewn. So here we get the scarred ribs as well-as the ploughed-furrow - elements very-much associated with She Landa Gig, she who is the kin of vultures.
Easingwold reminds-me of the other 'easing' we've visited, 63 miles distant Easington. I have to say more-or-less the same things about Easingwold as I did of Easington - the goddess of ease is the Great Mother - no matter-what name is applied to her - Esa, Bridget, St Anne, Mary, She Landa Gig etc, etc. The only difference is in the suffix - Wold as opposed to Ton. 'Wold' is cognate with 'weald,' as in Weald of Kent - it means power, powerful, protection, command, ruler-ship. You can jiggle and juggle the phrases this-way and-that - but the message is, I think, quite easy to read - the goddess is powerful, she offers her protection to her children.
To the north the village of Stokesley gets a pin in-it. Stokesley was granted a charter to hold fairs in 1223. 'Stok' is from the Anglo Saxon 'stoc,' and a 'stoc' is perfectly appropriate in this house-building-sign of the crab - a 'stoc' is a dwelling, house, home. The suffix 'ley' we discussed earlier - I believe it's a corrupted-form of 'leah,' a piece of land, a meadow. In full-then: a house in a meadow - you don't get more Cancerian than that.
Stoc in a leah - Stockley
On the coast is the town that would-seem to be named after the colour of the Moon - white - that's the fishing-port called Whitby.
Nevertheless, in the olde-days it was named Streoneshalh, which has strung coils-of-confusion on the experts. It's clearly named in the olde-tounge, but 'they' refuse to consider that - must-be too simple a solution for them? Ah well - never-mind. One-fine-day they'll wake-up and do-as-I-do - interpret ALL place-names in Britain in Anglo Saxon - all of them including those in the allegedly Celtic regions.. Those experts will call-me a nutter, but they don't read this sh*t anyway,, so I won't hold my breath waiting for the accolades to come rolling-in.
Streonehalh is a lovely Anglo Saxon pair-of words - 'streon' and 'hal.' 'Streon' means.... wait for it - procreation. How easy was that? You can't-blame-them for being confused - WHY would anyone name a town procreation? Unless, of course, I'm right and things really-are arranged upon our landscape as I claim they are - astrologically, zodiacally, cosmically, and dare I say it, divinely.
'Streon' also means property, and treasure. Something that was 'streonfull' was a precious, valuable possession.
The suffix 'halh' is 'hal,' and that is hale, whole, uninjured, healthy, well, sound, safe, genuine, straightforward and finally, hail! (hello!). Crazy huh? There's a big label on the map stating (in Anglo Saxon) Healthy Procreation!
Now then, on the old-subject of dreams, hell-hounds, nightmares and nourishment...
I copied and pasted this from the blurb for the Whitby International Film Festival:
"The houses of the old town are all red-roofed and seemed piled up one over the other…"
So wrote Bram Stoker in his famous novel Dracula.
Without the influence of Whitby it is unlikely that Dracula would ever have been written. It was whilst staying in the small North East coast fishing town that Bram Stoker found the influence to begin creating the most famous figure in horror film and literature.
Apart from being a central setting to the book, Stoker based many of the events in the novel on real life events from around the Whitby area. The enduring image of the ghostly ship the Demeter coming ashore and the huge black wolf jumping off the deck and running into the wilderness is often a staple point in film and TV adaptations of the book. However...
...As unlikely as it may seem, Stoker based both the ship and beast on information gained from talking to local townsfolk. The inhabitants would have been able to tell the writer of the Russian ship Dmitri which in events echoing that of the book was beached in the town’s port. As far as the huge black wolf is concerned there aren’t many Yorkshire folklorist’s that wouldn’t be able to tell you of the Barguest, the huge black phantom hound which according to legend stalks the Yorkshire Moors and has a particular liking for Whitby and surrounding areas.
Perhaps the most important location that inspired Bram Stoker was the local library.
It is here that Stoker first came across the name "Dracula" and thus a legend was born. Borrowing a book from the local library entitled, An Account of the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia (1820) By William Wilkinson. Bram Stoker took several notes from the book (now part of his papers housed at the Rosenbach Museum in Philadelphia). Wilkinson’s book includes a short section on a "Voivode Dracula" who fought against the Turks. Though the information was sketchy, one item attracted Stokers attention. He copied it verbatim into his notes: footnote Dracula in Wallachian language means Devil.
Crustaceans get a look-in at Whitby too - fossilised ammonites used to fair pop-out of the ground around-here - so much so that sometime in the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries the ammonite became a symbol of Whitby. Tradesmen's tokens bearing three ammonites within a shield are recorded as far back as 1667 and in 1935 the ammonite was officially adopted onto the towns coat-of-arms.
St Hilda's Abbey - otherwise known as Whitby Abbey, was founded by Hilda, a saintly-Saxon abbess (614-680AD), a woman who had a big-hand in converting the pagans around these-parts, to the new, patriarchal religion, Christianity. She must-have-had quite a task on her hands, that's all I can say.
Hilda was a queen of the ancient kingdom of Northumbria. Bede records that she hosted the Synod of Whitby, at which Celtic and Roman Christians met to decide on liturgical matters in 664 - consequently, she is an important character in the history of the early development of Christianity in these goddess-venerating lands.
Legend has it that she turned all the snakes to stone in Whitby, in order to clear the ground for the building of her new convent. After a bout of devout praying the snakes coiled up, turned to stone and fell off the edge of the Whitby cliffs - but not-until she'd cut their heads off with a whip. The absence of heads in these fossils is sometimes attributed to a further curse by St. Cuthbert. It was a tradition in Whitby to carve snakeheads onto ammonites - they were called snakestones and were sold as such by sneaky-fossil-dealers. Specimens of an ammonite called 'hildoceras' were used for this purpose - hildoceras being named in honour of Hilda. Some of the Whitby ammonites were/are preserved in jet, which has a beautiful appearance when carved and polished. In Elizabethan England snakestone brooches of jet were highly prized. Sir Walter Scott wrote a little ditty about-it......
When Whitby's nuns exhalting told...,
...Of thousand snakes each one
Was changed into a coil of stone.
When holy Hilda pray'd:
Themselves, within their holy ground.
Their stony folds had often found.
Fangs and Scars
Whitby Goth-Weekend is a twice-yearly festival for the cadaverous, pale-faced goths, organised by.... wait-for-it.... Top Mum Promotions. Whitby was chosen for its Count Dracula connections, obviously, attracting attendees from across the UK and around the world. The main event is held at the town's Spa, where they hold a 'Goth Market' but there are fringe events on the Thursday, Sunday and Monday too - well... there's a lot of goth-speak to be-done, man.
Leaving the fangs, werewolves and people dressed as pale-faced undertakers we'll go to where the scars are - a little south to the old-village of Ravenscar - you already know the significance of 'scar,' a ploughed-furrow, but there's a load-of utter-nonsense about 'Raven' and Robin-Hood Bay - I'll gladly-leave-that-privilige to-the orthodox-experts to enthral-you with (for 3 nano-seconds) - there's absolutely NO historical facts or etymological-evidence to back-up the slightly-warped Robin-Hood fantasy's of some Robin-Hood nerds - those who put the stupid-label Robin Hood Bay on the coast at Ravenscar - formerly-known-as Peak - Maid-Marian would have been more-suitable in that-sense.
What sort-of dick-head would place Robin Hood on a somewhat desolate beach in Cleavage-Land? I have to reply to my own rhetorical-question - only-someone as-keen-as-mustard to 'disappear' the goddess, and her cleavage would do such a thing - I would guess a devout-patriarchal Christian with an over-active subconscious, an over-rich fantasy-life.
Alchemy's been going-on here for some-time - the shale-rocks from here were used to extract alum - alum was used mainly for mordanting; for tanning and softening leather; and for its alleged medicinal and cosmetic properties. You won't believe what they went-through to get alum from the rocks - one of the chief advantages of the Yorkshire industry resulted from the exposure of Jurassic outcrops, rich in mineral resources, at near-vertical cliff faces - they've got plenty-of-those around Whitby. By the 15th century alum works sprang up all along the Yorkshire coast at suitable outcrops of the Upper Lias shale.
The seams could be mined without having to expend considerable labour in order to get rid of large quantities of overburden. This could be tipped down or over the cliff face. Another advantage was cheap transport - shipping - for bringing in supplies needed for the process and taking away the finished product.
The shale was excavated and barrowed along elevated walkways to be tipped over onto a bed of brushwood about 3ft thick. At a certain point the brushwood was set alight. The right-kind-of shale is like-coal, and once it was burning, more shale was tipped on top until a pile up-to and over 40ft in height had been reached. This was allowed to burn slowly for up to a year.
By the time they'd finished burning the pile, it would shrink to about half the size. They'd put the burned-shale into tanks and pour clean-water on top. This would be evaporated and the liquor collected. Then more water and more evaporation - over and over they'd repeat the leeching and collecting until they were happy with the results - some-kind-of octahedral crystalline gloop - perfect for dying-wool and fabrics, and worth a ruddy-fortune. This was alchemy that turned shale-into-gold, and red, and green, and blue .... in a process remarkably similar to what used-to go-on at The Street, Tankerton - in Tankerton the product was a heptahydrate (7-fold) whilst here it's an 8-sided crystal, which puts-me-in-mind of the 8-sided Tower House that Wynn Ellis made-into a castle near the vitriol tanks on the beach..... as-well-as the house at John o' Groats, which we haven't got-to-yet (I'm impatient).
Chariots of Fire Teeside Steel Works
Slightly north, still on the coast, is the town of Redcar - until the mid 19th century it was a sub-parish of the local village of Marke by the Sea, which WAS mentioned in the Book of Doom, unlike Redcar.
In Anglo Saxon 'marc' means to dye, stain, mark. This is one-of the reasons for the modern appellation of 'red,' a colour. Obviously I consider this to be another alchemic reference. The town's modern-colour-denomination is all to-do with the iron in the Cleveland rocks (Cleavage-Land). With that they made-steel, multiple blast-furnaces once reddened the sky as the alchemists worked their magic, producing steel from the red-rock ('car' = rock in Celtic, but carriage in Anglo Saxon - carriage = chariot). The town's main employers (in the post-war era) were the Teeside steel-works, founded in 1917, and the ICI chemical works - it's alchemy, alchemy, everywhere, in this Cancerian alignment.
After a two-year hiatus following the mothballing of the remaining-plant in February 2010, steel is once again being made at Redcar. This year the new-owners re-ignited the blast-furnace - the biggest in Europe, on 15 April.
Iron in the cliffs
Middlesbrough used to be writ as Mydilsburgh. Before taking-a-look at what's here in the town's history and/or constructions, the name attracts my attention straight-away - it's the 'mid' 'middle' and 'maid' theme - first seen at Kingsmead, Canterbury, all-over-again. 'Middel,' is waist, in the middle, centre, whilst the way it was originally spelt Mydilsburgh - prefixed 'mydd' hits the right-note - a 'myderce' is a chest, money-box.
The suffix 'burgh' is a fortified (defended) town or city. In 686, a monastic cell was consecrated by St Cuthbert at the request of St Hilda, Abbess of Whitby.
The towns coat-of-arms or emblem, has castellations and castles and a couple-of-full-masted-ships on it - the town sits on-the-banks of the River Tee, so there are docks, ship-yards, harbours, bridges and ships all-over the place. The motto on the emblem is 'Erimus,' meaning We Will Be.... you can work-out the significance of that for yourself, in this sign of the infant and the babe-in-the-womb....
What used-to-be the worlds longest-railway-line, the Stockton and Darlington, used to run through the town. Though the railway opened in 1825 - the worlds 1st - it was designed solely to transport coal to the docks and iron-works that followed. The first passenger railway was, as I mentioned earlier, back-there in Kent running from Whitstable to Canterbury, opening in 1830, and carrying passengers from day-one.
There's lots of ironstone in the hills and ground all around - discovered in 1850. So the Bell brothers got-to-work and opened a really-big ironworks and rolling-mill here on the banks of the river in 1853, as alchemists-would. A few years after the foundries and rolling mills got-going with their alchemic processes, they found there was a lot of rock-salt down-there too. Great steelworks, chemical plants, shipbuilding and offshore fabrication yards followed the original ironworks, setting the nature and character of the town for many-decades, and earning the town (and Britain) a reputation for excellence.
There's another interesting connection from Whitstable, where this iron allied-with salts motif was first-noted.
Salt is a prime-ingredient, the female-ingredient, in every alchemical-operation. Salt is an emblem of water, and water is an emblem of the Moon. Sulphur is the other prime ingredient, opposite in nature to salt - it's male, it's fire, and the emblem of The Sun.
In Whitstable we found stones that contained iron, out of which salts were dissolved in sea-water, from which vitriol and sulphur was obtained. Rocks + seawater = FIRE!!!
Just along the coast from Whitstable is the town and parish of Seasalter - much older than Whitstable - it was that place-name - 'sea' + 'salt,' that gave me the clue as to one-of the true-meanings of the name of Whitstable.
Whit-stable was originally written Witenstaple - originally the 'b' in 'stable' was a 'p,' 'staple.' A 'staple' is, amongst other-things, a basic-necessity-of-life (which are ruled by Cancer), such as flour, salt, water, bread, potatoes, etc, etc. Salt is one-of-those 'staples,' a white staple, and as I said, just-along the coast is ancient Sea-salt-er. So, for our immediate-purposes here, one-of-the-meanings of Whitstable's name is a reference to the female alchemical-element of salt.
Back to Middlesbrough where they've got a couple of bridges that are, or were, cutting-edge in their design. The Transporter Bridge straddling-the-river was erected in 1902, and still-works.
Sydney Harbour & Tyne Bridges
The town has a thing with bridges, it seems. A steel-works company in Middlesbrough made the steel-components for the Sydney Harbour Bridge, erected in 1932 - they made the parts for the Tyne Bridge in Newcastle, too.
It's the connections - they're everywhere. If I took-the-time to reveal them all we'd never get-through even one-of-these articles - alchemy, salt, sulphur, water, fire, boxes, bridges, chests, wombs, tombs, maids, children.... and on and on. I've neglected, however, to draw your attention to various connections that repeatedly show-up - there are so-many popping-up and many-of-them aren't immediately-obvious as to why they're appropriate.
My explanations would take too long and draw-you into avenues of thought that seem-like distractions. So I'm NOT showing you everything that there is to see and think-about - there ain't time - I've, we've gotta try and stay focussed.
Middlesbrough's river is called the Tees.... and 'tease' is something naughty-lasses shouldn't-do (if you wouldn't-mind). Ho ho ho - but jesting-aside, the river's name puts me-in-mind of the chest, believe-it or-not - well, the bit-in-the-middle, the sternum. That's the bone-and-gristle that connects the two-halves of the rib-cage together - it's capital 'T' shaped, y'see. I've stuck a picture here that shows it.
Farther-up the goddesses sternum to Hartlepool, written in 1017 as Hertelpolle. Lovely innit? This 'hart' with its 'pool' are beating-away behind the ribs, for ever, over and over, numberless-times.
The prefix 'her,' in our olde tongue, means here, in-this-place, in this world, at this point-in-time, at-this-date, now. It has the same meaning as it does for us too, her. The final-syllable 'tel,' is number, series; number of people, tribe. 'Polle,' the last-syllable is pool.
The town had medicinal springs, particularly a chalybeate spa. Thomas Gray, the poet, visited the town in 1765 to take the waters, and wrote of Hartlepool:
The rocks, the sea and the weather there more than made up to me the want of bread and the want of water, two capital defects, but of which I learned from the inhabitants not to be sensible. They live on the refuse of their own fish-market, with a few potatoes, and a reasonable quantity of Geneva [gin] six days in the week, and I have nowhere seen a taller, more robust or healthy race: every house full of ruddy broad-faced children. Nobody dies but of drowning or old-age: nobody poor but from drunkenness or mere laziness.
They had to build gun-emplacements and defences in 1795 'cos they thought the French were-coming to kick-their (our) butts. Later-on they built two-more batteries - the Lighthouse Battery in 1855 and the Heugh Battery in 1859.
Isambard Kingdom Brunel (bridges and dockyards, the Great Western Railway, the first propeller-driven transatlantic steamship, many important bridges and tunnels - revolutionised public transport) visited the town in December 1831, and wrote: A curiously isolated old fishing town - a remarkably fine race of men. Went to the top of the church tower for a view.
Old-Izzy Brunel was in-town because they were planning to build a docks and railway-line to get-in on the booming coal-industry in the locale, but in the end someone-else built the docks and railway 'cos Izzy-was-bizzy. Now there's docks and shipyards and railways all-over the-place and Hartlepool did-alright, in-the-end. By 1913, there were 43 ship-owning companies with 236 ships, located in the town, .
Moving-on then to a place with an affectionate-sounding name attached to-it - Darlington.
Robinson Crusoe author Daniel Defoe popped-in on Darlington and noted that the town was notable for..... 'good bleaching of linen, so that I have known cloth brought from Scotland to be bleached here'.
Blimey, I know that proper-bleaching of yer-linen's important, an'-all-that, but coming all-the-way from Scotland's going a bit too-far, innit? But then - that just goes-to-show how important and difficult such processes were in olde-tymes - truly alchemy, huh? We can just buy a bottle-of Bleacho! in the supermarket (or dye), lob-it-in-da-pot and hey-bleedin'-presto! Easy-peasy. Not-so for our ancestors - a valued and valuable art - alchemy by any-other-name.
In Norman-times it was noted as Derlinton, but previously it was called - so they say - Dearthington - they also say that it's another-one-of-those 'personal-name' bull-s#'it 'solved-riddles' of-theirs - 'the settlement of Deornoth's people', ho ho ho. Love it.
The modern 'interpretation' of the name is actually quite-correct - this Deornoth must have been a lovely dude - his name means darling - ain't that sweet? Not unheard-of though - we've got Alastair Darling in the Labour-Party, for instance. But nah, I don't go-with the 'personal-name' solution anyway - unless we're talking about the goddess, of course. Though darling ain't a personal-name, in this case, it's a 'term-of-endearment,' what lovers call-each-other, what mothers call-their-children.
Darlington is known for its association with the birth of railways - the world's first passenger rail journey ran via Darlington, on the Stockton and Darlington Railway, in 1825. The town later became an important centre for railway manufacturing - the town developed to have three significant works. The largest of these was the main line works, the North Road Shops - the Great North Road, now known as the A1, used to run directly through the centre of Darlington. I just want to cast your-mind back - this is the sign of the Northern Gate of the Sun - the road to the north. Don't you just-love synchronicity?
Bridge-building is something Darlington is noted-for - the Transporter-Bridge we saw at Middlesbrough was built by a firm from Darling-ton, as was the Humber Bridge. Bridges built here can-be-found as far-away as the Amazon River and River Nile - they're pretty-good at-it.
Cuboid Cathedral - Durham Door
Durham - was called Duresme by the Normans - the Northern Historian (bona fide expert) Robert Surtees, says that it's 'impossible' to discover when the name morphed into its present arrangement - Durham.
It doesn't really-matter - 'dur' remained the first syllable however they spelled-it. 'Dur' is, as I mentioned a little while ago, the Anglo Saxon way of writing door. And as I also mentioned, the final syllable 'ham,' means home, so we have a home and a door, perfectly appropriate to the goddess, and the sign Cancer, sign of the home. As is the 'other,' inextricably-related, cognate meaning of 'ham,' hymen and womb - so now we have a womb and a door which is no-conundrum to you-and-me, but believe-me, baffles the creaking-brains of the experts.
They reckon (generally-speaking) that the place-name means a dun (brown) hill - well, maybe it does, it fits the goddess archetype to a 'T.' But as I've guffed-about before - the ancients loved to weave a plait with their place-names - 3 strands of meaning, one for each of the worlds, eternally entwined, supporting each-other.
So.... we have a brown-hill (fertiliser/dung) surrounded by water - physical-emblems of the fertile-goddess. Entwined with this we have a house with a door that can be locked-shut, unlocked and opened. This is a 'bridge or ship' that allows travel between these worlds - the womb is the bridge, the ship, the door.
A maid - a milkmaid - and her brown-cow have been weaved-into-the-legend about the founding of-the-city - wouldn't you-know? It is this legend that assures the experts that their interpretation of the place-name Durham - Brown-Hill - is the only right answer.
Wandering in the north, Saint Cuthbert’s funeral-bier came to a halt at the hill called Warden Law and, despite the effort of the congregation, the cows pulling-it would not move. The Bishop decreed a fast for three days, accompanied by prayers.
Saint Cuthbert appeared to a monk in-a-vision, and told-him that the coffin should be taken to Dun Holm ('dun' = brown 'holm' = wooded-hill). But they didn't know where Dun Holm was - so they're wandering-about like lost-sheep when, at a hill called Mount Joy, they come across this milkmaid.
She's gone-and-lost lost her brown-cow and is wandering about trying to find-it, all forlorn. She tells the monks that she last saw the dun-cow at Dun Holm, and that's where she was heading. Gordon Benett! say the monks, 'tis a bleedin'-sign from Cuthbert, follow the maid!
It's like a scene from Monty Python - she finds her cow on the brown-hill (Dun Holm), and them monks were dead-chuffed - so chuffed they started building a ruddy cathedral, right there where she found her cow - there was something about that cow, must've been eh? Or was it the maid?
I-dunno - they never mentioned her or her moo-moo again - but as I say, and the legend didn't - she and her cow were taken-by-the-monks to be divine-signs - but she was a maid and that was a cow, and you don't go-around drawing-attention to women or cows in Christianity, do ya?
So it's up-to-me then: milk comes from breasts - breasts belong to women - milk is food - food comes from the fertile furrowed-field - the cow supplies the fertiliser for the field - and all these are of the 4th sign of the home and farm-land, Cancer.
And of-course, the incident never-happened - I can't believe for one-nano-second that Celtic-monks steeped-in landscape-veneration for countless centuries had to actually follow a milkmaid in order to-find the Brown-hill in the river-bend - clearly highly-sacred ground to such-people - they wouldn't have needed any milkmaid or her cow to point-it-out to-them - of that I'm sure. I'm equally-sure they invented the tale of the milkmaid and her-cow in-order to keep-alive the goddess-archetype, associated with 'holy-islands' and rivers, and curves, and milk, and brown-mounds of dun-coloured fertility (cows also pulled ploughs).
The experts, of course, concentrate instead on the colour of the cow, and the colour of the hill, thinking this is significant and assuring-them that their interpretation of the place-names's original-meaning, that Durham means Brown-Hill, is correct - and the only correct interpretation- and people think that I'm the simpleton.
A brown-hill + a brown-cow spells-out one-thing - fertility. On the other-hand, a door in this sign of the Northern Gate of the Sun, means something else. But when the two ideas are combined - as they were intended to be - a wide-ranging group of goddess-related ideas springs-forth.
Mary Anne Cotton
Durham Castle is now home to the university - it's what is known as a Public Research university - the Moon and its sign Cancer 'rules' the People, that's the public, and here at Durham University they're researching that very-thing.
Mc Vicar, the '80's movie with Roger Daltrey in the lead-role, was made in Durham Prison which is built right in the centre of town. Prisons are full of doors that get locked and unlocked, convicts and cells - and some very, very bad people. Myra Hindley and Rose West have both done time in the jail, as-did the poisoner Mary Anne Cotton, hanged here in 1873, she poisoned 3 husbands and 9 children with arsenic - she was so notorious that a little rhyme was sung by the kids:
Mary Ann Cotton,
Dead and forgotten
She lies in her bed,
With her eyes wide open
Sing, sing, oh, what can I sing,
Mary Ann Cotton is tied up with string
Where, where? Up in the air
Sellin' black puddens a penny a pair.
Could the name of the old city of Sunderland be referencing Cancer's ancient-name - the Northern Gate of the Sun - 'sun' + 'door' + 'land'? Well, it makes a good zodiacal-pun, for my-money - and even if that ain't the intended-meaning of the name, it works so I'm using-it - go-figure.
In Anglo Saxon 'sunder' had a whole-range of meanings - and they're all appropriate. First-of-all there's the obvious-one - to sunder is to separate, to part. Clearly and obviously, taken-in-context with all we've seen thus-far in this goddess-influenced alignment, this is no-riddle at-all - it's part of a set, it's typical. For the experts though, this is far-from the-case - they, being one-dimensional 'thinkers' - declare that this 'sundering,' this 'separating' that's mentioned in the place-name simply must-be a reference to the river-valley the city sits in - the river separates the city in two. Solved!
But as you and me know - the cleavage does that too - and we're looking-at the goddesses cleavage here, ain't we.
And as you can see from the Anglo Saxon Dictionary's entries under 'sunder,' there are other potential-meanings, many of them to-do with swimming and water. 'Sund' is swimming, water, sea, wave, a 'sund-wuda' is a ship, 'sundplega' sporting in the water, bathing,
The name-of the-river that 'sunders' Sunderland, the Wear - 'hwer' in the olde-tongue - has a definite affinity with all-things goddess - 'hwer' means pot, basin, bowl, kettle, cauldron.
A monastery got built-here - the first-one ever built in stone, the Venerable Bead born nearby, amongst the brothers. Not only did they build-in-stone, they put glass in-too. In fact, the builder of this 'house-of-god,' a monk, is credited with reintroducing glass-making to England - because of him we've all got windows in our homes.
Over the centuries, Sunderland earned-its-keep as a port, trading in rocks that burn - coal - and the white-staple, salt. Ships - emblem of the-womb - began to be built on the river in the 14th century.
This just-occurred to-me as I was writing that last-sentence, re: the emblem of the ship as representing the womb, and the womb itself standing as a metaphoric bridge between-worlds - it struck-me that the captain of the ship directs-operations - issues his orders from the ship's-bridge. It's a 'bundled'-metaphor, if you get what-I-mean?
Another metaphor we've seen much-of - Doors - are something Sunderland taught the Nation something-about - and tragically. In June 1883 (in Cancer, sign of infants and children) 183 children aged between three and 14 were suffocated to-death in the worst disaster of its kind in British history. During a variety show at the Victoria Hall, the children rushed towards a staircase for 'treats.' At the bottom of the stairs, the door had been opened inward and bolted in such a way that the gap was only wide-enough for one kid to get-through at a time. All the nippers surged down the stairs and those at the front were crushed by the weight of the kids behind.
There was a huge public-outrage and an outcry, followed by questions-in-the-house followed-by legislation that thereafter required all public-venues in-the-land to install outward-opening push-bar fire-doors from that day-on - they were invented as a direct-result of what happened to those infants and children, in Sunderland, that Cancerian-day, when the nightmare came-true.
Moving-on now, to the city with Cancerian motifs written-all-over-it - Newcastle Upon Tyne. All are agreed that the place got its name from the new-castle built by the eldest-son of Billy-the-Bastard, otherwise-called William of Normandy. The city's emblem or coat-of-arms has three-castles on the-shield and one-above them with a lion holding a Union-flag, along with what could turn-out to-be the most-obviously Cancerian motto in-existence: Fortiter Defendit Triumphans - Triumph by Brave Defence - I can't prevent the arcana of the Chariot springing-to-mind. In-fact, when you compare the city's-emblem with the tarot-card, a number of similarities show-forth - instead of sphinxes there's a couple of equally mythical-creatures, horses with fishes-tails, for instance. There are symbolic-similarities between them that suggest, quite-strongly, the emblem was designed by someone with a modicum of occult-insight.
The city was an important centre for the wool-trade and was a major coal-mining area - that's textiles and alchemic-rocks. The port developed in the 16th century and, along with the shipyards lower down the river, was amongst the world's largest shipbuilding and repairing centres.
After the Romans bugged-off in 410, Newcastle was known as Monkchester - then the Normans came in 1080 and erected a wooden castle Novum Castellum in French, New Castle in English.
So let's look-at the older place-name's Monkchester meaning. The word 'monk' wasn't in-use in England until after the reformation - prior to that we called them friars. In pre-reformation Anglo Saxon, the only word with 'monc,' as they would-have spelt the first-syllable 'monk,' would-be 'manc' (pronounced monk) and that means thirty-silver-pennies - silver, of course, being the metal of the Moon.
Not only-that - could-it be at-all relevant that 30-pieces-of-silver was the amount that Judas Iscariot was paid for betraying his Master to the High-Priests?
The version of the Bible that most-of-us have access-to, tells us that Judas hanged-himself. But another account by the early Christian leader, Papias, gives a different-version of Judas' death: Judas walked about in this world a sad example of impiety; for his body having swollen to such an extent that he could not pass where a chariot could pass easily, he was crushed by the chariot, so that his bowels gushed out.
He was crushed by the wheels of a chariot!
I believe that that's what his name actually signifies - Judas (of the) Chariot.
The suffix 'chester' on olde Monkchester is instantly intelligible in this sign-of-the chest, and needs utterly-zero explanations from me. When you put-it all-together you get a chest and thirty-pieces of silver - a money-box - an act of betrayal and death by chariot - all rolled-into-one place-name.
Ship and Bridge
The river on-which the new-castle stands, the Tyne, fits-into the Cancerian scheme-of-things quite aptly. The word 'tynan' is to hedge-in, fence, enclose and shut. Interestingly, in that respect, they built a wall around the city in the middle-Ages, and it was known-as the 'northern-fortress' - we can call-it the northern fortress on the alignment of the Northern-Gate of the Sun.
They built a wall around-it because, being so-close to that big-defensive-structure, Hadrian's Wall, the place was attacked by the Scots quite regularly. Sections of the wall ran right-through the city in the early-days.
Newcastle was once involved in glass-making with a reputation for brilliant flint-glass.
Shipbuilding and heavy engineering earned the city loads-a-dosh - it was a powerhouse of the Industrial Revolution. Innovation in Newcastle and surrounding areas included the development of safety lamps, Stephenson's Rocket, Artillery, Swan Light-Bulbs and the invention of the steam turbine, which led to a revolution in marine propulsion and the generation of cheap electricity.
Wallsend - the eastern-end of Hadrian's Wall - is a couple-of-miles east.
The fort here at the end-of-the-wall was called Segedunum, which no expert has-yet sussed-out the meaning of. According to an article in Wikipedia, the conjectured meanings of the place-name include 'derived from the Celtic' for 'powerful' or 'victorious' 'derived from the [Celtic] words sego ('strength') and dunum ('fortified place')', 'Romano-British Segedunum 'Strong-fort' and "Celtic sechdun or 'dry hill.'
I, of-course, say poo-poo to their conjectures - I've got a few of my own. Why they don't look-at the pre-Roman so-called 'Anglo Saxon' dictionary is way, way beyond my ken. I looked-in-there, simply changed the 'd' in 'seged' into an 'n,' resulting-in 'segen,' and the resulting-meaning was obvious, straightforward and clear: a 'segn' was a sign, a banner - such methodology may-well-be unorthodox, but-it-works.
To my mind this result - 'segn' a sign, a banner - signifies that the fortress at the end-of-the-wall bore signs and banners all-over-it - the banner or emblem of a garrison carried-high with forthright-pride, was deemed most-important. I guess-then that this fort was known as the 'fort-of-banners.' I'll wager that every garrison, cohort and regiment that had-a-hand in building the wall displayed their banner here, at the fort at the end of the wall, as a very-serious matter of military-pride.
Wherever the Romans went, they built bath-houses and baths - long-before they came to Britain they had a thing-going with goddesses and water, so they totally-understood the Native's reverent behaviour around and towards the rivers, springs, wells and cisterns in their green-and-pleasant-land - to a certain-extent the Romans and the Brit's understood each-other through what was commonly-held to be sacred.
Place-names were the other-things - the Romans recognised in the place-names more-or-less what I've recognised and shared with-you - and for-the-most-part they left-them alone. didn't alter-them. The most they've-done is to add their-own version of the existing-name, and always, so it seems, kept-them appropriately 'in-tune' with the zodiacal-pattern, and the gods and goddesses therein. The example I'm most-familiar-with is Canterbury, which the Romans called Durovernum - but they never erased the name Canterbury - they overlaid the English-version with the Roman-version. I believe that the Romans were fully cognizant of the sacred-facts regarding the British landscape, and had-no-desire to mess with the gods.
The town called Southshields spells-out the function of the wall - even-if experts find the name and the town's proximity to the wall to be purely-coincidental - they say the name has nothing to do with shielding the south, failing to spot-the-obvious. They say the name signifies a small-dwelling frequented by fisher-men - a 'schele' or 'shield,' ho-hum, tum-te-dum...
It doesn't really over-tax the-old imaginative-faculties to recognise that Hadrians Wall was a 'shield' designed to protect-the-southern parts of the country from the wild-men of the northern parts. It's a crab's-shell, a hard outer-casing enclosing the soft, inner-parts and defending them. And it's nothing-but coincidence that there's a town-here called Southshields - close to the fort of banners and signs - is that clear? Now go and stand on the naughty-step.
This geographic-region north of the wall is known as Northumbria (north (of the) Humber) - a highly-imaginative name, to-be-sure - but the region used-to-be-called Berenicia, and that's the olde-version of a maiden's name, Bernice. No-wonder they changed-it - it-gives-the-game-away and served to remind the folks about her, so Bernice's-Land had-to-go, and now the region is simply-named after it's geophysical-location north of the Hymning River Humber.
Last night the artist Mick Hill, the guy that painted the winged-infant for the book cover, got-back from his studio and came over and chatted with me, and said, I brought this newspaper cutting for you. He pulls two pages of the Guardian dated 4th September out of his satchel and spread them on the bar. My jaw dropped. Wow Mick! Bleedin' ell. Wow! In the land of Bernice, Northumbria, landscape-architect Charles Jencks has made a curvaceous-woman out of the spoil from a coal-tip, and they call her Northumberlandia.
She's made of 1.5 million tonnes of coal-spoil, thus nicknamed Slag Alice, she's112 feet high,1300 feet long, and set in 47 acres of lush-green parkland - probably the largest land sculpture in human form in the world (after our winged-infant).
They reckon she could attract 200,000 visitors a year, and she's due to open for full public access in 2013. She was officially opened by Princess Anne on 29 August 2012, right in the middle of me writing this - I had no-idea. There are limited opening times starting in September 2012 and beyond.
Guardian journalist Mark Brown wrote this article about Charles Jenks, which I'm reproducing in full:
It is almost impossible to give Charles Jenks one job title. He is an artist, a landscape designer, a polemicist, a modernist and postmodernist theorist and a writer of bestselling books on architecture. If that were not enough he is also the co-founder, with his late wife, of Maggie's Cancer Caring Centres.
Jenks, now 73, was born in Baltimore, studied at Harvard and moved to the UK in the mid-1960s.
He now lives in Scotland and is the writer of numerous books and essays on architecture including The Language of Postmodern Architecture and The Iconic Building - the Power of Enigma and The Garden of Cosmic Speculation.
That last title reveals some of his central thoughts - that he believes art and architecture exist to make us think about the cosmos, that there is always a bigger picture.
He said: 'I do believe architecture, and all art, should be content-driven. It should have something to say beyond the sensational.'
His belief in the ability of buildings to uplift helped to drive the creation of the network of Maggie's centres, named after his late wife, Maggie Keswick Jencks, who died in 1995.
Jenks is a leading figure in landscape architecture and his flair for reflecting science in the landscape led to Cern, the particle physics laboratory in Geneva, asking him to work on its gardens.
As well as Northumberlandia, Jencks has been busily working with the engineer Cecil Balmond on a landmark for Gretna on the English-Scottish border. The Star of Caledonia, an illuminated sculpture, is due to be completed in 2014.
If we look south of the wall to the region I've called cleavage-land Cleveland, it was marked on the oldest-maps as Cataractonium. A 'cataract' is a down-plunging waterfall - water falling into a cleavage in the rocks that the water has cut. There are quite a few such plunges in the Yorkshire Dales - region of the goddesses Fountains Abbey. The cataract pictured (right) - the longest in England, is in the region formerly-called Cataractonium (now Cumbria), its name perfectly appropriate in this goddess-region - Cauldron Snout.
There's a Roman-road that runs sort-of parallel with the wall, along-which the various regiments marched from fort to fort - the road started-or-ended-at the Eden-Plain's city of Carlisle - the second most northerly city in England, which spans the flood plain of the River Eden - Itouna to the Romans. To the inhabitants 'itouna' and 'eden' transmogrified into 'etan,' to eat, devour, consume; to provision oneself; to eat-together.
Obviously, these meanings encoded in the name of the river are highly-appropriate in this sign of food. It is through words and phrases like-these that the physiological arrangement of the body of the goddess is made-known. Chewing food and swallowing it involves more-than the jaws, teeth and tongue - the throat and oesophagus partake in the process - they are doorways, portals and gates, and Carlisle and its river Eden are placed-there, at the gate.
Carlisle's name seems 'out-of-place' in this sign of the goddess, because 'carl,' the prefix, is an Anglo Saxon word that signifies men, it was their-word for a man. It's not immediately-obvious why a city called 'man' should-be placed-here - perhaps we're supposed-to 'read' the city's and the river's names together? Then it reads something like: (she) feeds men. Appropriate, because true - the goddess is the land, and the food she produces in that womb, feed men - all men.
The place started-out as an outpost for soldiers manning Hadrian's Wall. Billy-Boy-Junior - William II, had his bully-boys build Carlisle Castle, and then in the Middle Ages they built a defensive-wall around the city. The coat-of-arms has a castle and two dragons standing-in for sphinxes, while emblems of the goddess - roses, are liberally strewn across the figures. The motto Be Just and Fear-Not could just-as-well be applied to the Charioteer in the tarot card.
the Abbey, Hexham
St Mary's Hexham
I know that we're leaping-about all-over the map, but there's a lot to see. We've gotta head-back east again.
On the south-side of the hymning-river in Cataractominium is Clara Vale, who sounds-like a very-nice lass. 'She' was one of a group of coal-mines and purpose-built villages in the area named after maids and maidens, by the Stella Coal Company ('stella' = of the stars; also a maiden's-name, Stella) Clara is the feminine form of the Latin name Clarus, which means clear, bright, famous. The other maid's-name pit was called Emma (Emma = whole or universal), and there was one called the Stargate - She is the Northern Gate of the Sun, She is Stella, Clara and Emma - you-know we're talking-about the Moon, yeah?
Jumping-off to another-place again - on the north-side of the wall is the town called Hexham. Hmm... not that I know much-about such-things (apart-from that bad experience I had with that West-Country witch) - but isn't 'hex' the word for a curse? Spell 'hex' in Anglo Saxon and you get either 'hecen,' a kid or young-goat, or you might get 'hecg,' a hedge. I don't really know what to make of that - I'm thinking that kid is a euphemism for young-children and infants, and has-been for countless generations. Not-only did goats provide-us with food - milk and cheese - they also provided-us with clothing - a defensive outer-shell. These are Cancerian, goddess-related, as you are well-aware by-now.
And then of course there was the possibility that 'hex' wasn't referring to a kid at-all, but to a 'hecg,' a hedge.... hmm, goat or hedge? To get to the bottom of it I delved-about and discovered that the town was noted in Anglo Saxon documents as Hagustaldesee - now that-helps to clear-it-up a-bit.
The first syllable 'haga' is a fortified-enclosure, a homestead, a house, and the second syllable 'stald' says-it-again, reiterates it - 'stald' is a dwelling, a habitation - no-need to explain the Cancerian significance of those designations. The final syllable 'esee' is the old-name of the goddess, Esa.
According to those olde documents, the name Hexham tells-us that this is a home of the goddess. That would explain, I guess, the location's attraction to goddess-oriented types, monks and nuns etc, etc. The queen of Northumbria, Ethelreda, gave the land to Wilfred the old monk, and he goes-and-builds a big-house so God can move-in. After all-sorts of heavy-duty occurrences - the Vikings trashed-it with fire-and-steel so the church-builders bunged-it back-up, and then along-comes Henry VIII with his 'reformation.' The monastery became Hexham Abbey, a nice-old-pile in the Old English stylee.
I couldn't help but-notice that the local church, St Mary's, has a distinctly feminine-look about-it.
I'd really like-to get-a-move-on and continue up-the-country, but there's such a crop of place-names along and around the Tyne I've just gotta point-out a few of them before heading north: Wylam, Gateshead, Jarrow, Gosforth, Wide Open, Ponteland - innocent-enough-looking place-names scattered about in a random, meaningless-way - and surely, as orthodoxy propounds, not in any-way connected.
The pioneer of trains and railways, George Stephenson, was born in Wylam, as was his associate, the locomotive engineer Timothy Hackworth.
The toponymy: the syllable 'wyl' = 'weal/weall', and 'weall' is walls, ditches, dikes, ramparts - it's those defences, again. 'Lam,' the final-syllable, is loam - that-is, earth, soil. So we have earthen-ramparts and ditches.
Gateshead - as the sign of the Northern-Gate such a place-name gate+head needs little by way-of an explanation - I'll just-say that north is up and that's where yer-ead is - up north. They constructed a huge goddess with wings - a steel sculpture of an angel, 66 ft tall, with wings 177 ft across, on a hillside overlooking the town - she's called The Angel Of The North. This is the guardian of the Northern Gate, standing there at the Gate's 'head.'
She was built in Hartlepool in weather resistant steel - her wings weigh 50 tons each and her body weighs 100 tons - she can stand there through 100 mile-an-hour hurricanes because she's anchored to 600 ton concrete blocks 70 ft beneath the surface.
Jarrow was noted in the-year 750 as Gyruum. The Anglo Saxon word, 'gyrwan' means to clothe, deck, dress; and prepare, cook.
Gosforth was Goseford in 1166, when the place-name was first-recorded. The 'gos' in the place-name means goose in Anglo Saxon. This would seem-to signify a river-crossing and some geese. For a very-long time, geese have been associated with goddesses, mothers, food and defence.
The Norse goddess Freya was said to be goose-footed, and sacred geese guarded the temple of Juno in ancient Rome. The white goose is also associated with Aphrodite, the goddess of love.
The tales of Mother Goose, the mythical creator of a collection of nursery rhymes, are actually a translation of the stories from Charles Perrault’s seventeenth century work Tales of My Mother the Goose.
Mother Goose was an archetypal country woman. The Mother Goose stories and rhymes - centuries-old, were-once the basis for many pantomimes. Mother Goose is depicted as an elderly country-woman in a tall-hat and shawl.
Old Mother Goose,
When she wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Jack's mother came in,
And caught the goose soon,
And mounting its back,
Flew up to the moon.
Geese are among the world’s most commonly domesticated birds, kept for their eggs, meat, and feathers. A domesticated goose can lay up to fifty eggs a year - therefore the goose is associated with fertility. In the fairy tale about the goose who laid golden eggs, its owner grew impatient with the daily gold, and killed the goose to get what he expected was a treasure trove - all he got was a dead goose.
Geese were traditionally employed - in rural locales - as a first-defence, as warning-alarms that warned-you that someone was coming onto your property - one bird starts honking in-alarm, and the entire flock instantly joins-in - cackling and hooting, making a great din and cacophony. They also, being so protective of their goslings, are ever-ready to come-rushing out at-you, flapping their-wings and hissing, angrily pecking at-you to drive-you-away. Believe-me - they're very effective.
Gosforth's original name then, had a ford and the goddess and food and a defence all plaited-together into one.
Wide Open really-is the name of a colliery-village, wide-open being the name of the pit. I'll be-brief with this-one for its significance is obvious - this is the sign of doors and gates...... 'nuff-said?
Ponteland is a village named after the river that runs through-it, the Pont. 'Pont' was 'pynd,' pronounced the-same, and a 'pynd' is a cistern or lake, a pond - that's appropriate-enough in this sign of the well and spring. But if we look-at the cognate-word 'pyndan' the appropriateness increases - 'pyndan' is to shut-up, impound - and that's kinda interesting, 'cos when we juxtapose the two-villages above, we get an image of two-states: wide-open and shut.
The Bernician port-town of Blyth is first attested in 1130 as 'Blida,' and like Ponteland, is named-after the river Blyth, which was also writ Blida in ye-olde-tymes. 'Blida' means to encourage, excite, exhort in Anglo Saxon. Blythe (with an 'e') is a woman's-name and it's also a state-of-Being - 'blyth' means joy and joyousness.
I could spend weeks writing about these towns and villages in Bernice's Land - they have the sign of the crab, turtle, chest, womb, tomb, spring, pond, alchemy, train, home and goddess, written all-over-them. But I want to go and visit that chick Linda/Lindy now, and see what she's got in that basket she carries......
Lindisfarne first appeared written as Medcaut.
The experts have come-up-with all kinds of crazy, foreign words to explain the holy-island's name's meaning. They've come-up with a few interesting Latin meanings and a few Welsh one's. I've just gotta-go where I always go - to the tongue 99% of English places were named-in, Anglo Saxon. In that tongue 'med' the prefix is meed, reward, pay, price, compensation and a bribe.
The last syllable 'caut' isn't a word - 'caul' is - caul is an Anglo Saxon word for a basket. Medcaul(t) then, means The Basket (full-of) Rewards.
In its modern-form Lindisfarne fits into the pattern as perfectly as you might imagine - 'lind' is a shield of wood made from the Linden-tree. The suffix 'isfarn' is a misspelling, I believe, of 'isearn,' and an 'isearn' is a mythical bird known as an 'halcyon,' usually identified with the kingfisher, said to breed about the time of the Winter-Solstice in a nest floating on the sea, and to have the power of charming winds and waves into calmness.
This is the sign of the Summer-Solstice, Cancer, is the opposite-pole to the Winter Solstice. I'm imagining then, that the ancients imagined that this was where the halcyon-bred, floating on the sea in a basket - a pendant on the bosom of the goddess.
The towns and villages clustered around Lindisfarne contain the elements we've come-to-expect, in this particular alignment and cone.
Ross is a shrunken-Medieval-village, its name signifying the rose, a beautiful-bloom that has long-been sacred to the beautiful-goddess Aphrodite. Rose is a woman's-name.
The shrunken-village of Middleton takes its name from the Anglo Saxon 'midlian,' to halve, divide. Need I say-more? Cleavage??
Fenwick - I like-this-one 'cos me-name's in-it, innit? A 'fen' is a marsh-land full-'o-pools and ponds. A 'wicce' is a witch and a 'wic' is a dwelling.
East Kyloe certainly wouldn't have had a 'k' in it because in Anglo Saxon, there were none. It would'a been written 'cyloe' or something similar. The word 'cylen' is a cool-oven. The designation 'east' is not merely directional - 'eas' is the goddess Esa. East Kyloe then means: the goddesses cool-oven. This is one-of-those double-entendre's methinks - the 'cool-oven' is a metaphoric womb - the bun-in-the-oven being the metaphoric-bairn, yeah?
Here's my name again - Fenham - wow, how my fame goes-before-me, he he. It's only a little different from Fenwick above - the fen's all pools and puddles as before, and the suffix 'ham' is, like 'wic,' a home, but is also of course, reference to the 'hamen,' hymen and womb - the home we all live-in for nine-months, the door-between-the-worlds, the bridge on the ship-of-dreams.
Detchant refers to those breasts and nipples of the goddess - 'dettan' means to suck - nuff-said.
As we go farther north, we cross the border and enter Scotland, where the place-names can't possibly be interpreted in Anglo Saxon, right? Well you wouldn't think-so, would ya? Trouble is, I'm very-poorly educated, so I don't know that I have-to go looking at some Gaelic dictionary, do I? Haven't got the faintest. I'll just continue as usual, and see what happens. And if it turns-out that the Scottish place-names make-sense in a 'foreign' language (Anglo Saxon), then I don't know what I'll think. Perhaps I'll just accept that history doesn't make-any-sense, and say nought - let's just see what happens, eh? I love adventures.....
The position of Alnwick, physiologically-speaking, is at the top of the sternum or breastbone - the capital 'T' in the center of the thorax, where the throat emerges from the chest.
Alnwick ain't nuffin but a huge castle built by the Norm's, to defend themselves from the angry results of their genocidal agendas.
'Aln' is not a word that I recognise, and given the 'alming' we've already witnessed within this Cancer-zone, I have-to go-with-that and assume that the frogs couldn't spell. For me - 'aln' was intended as 'alm' and I'm sticking-with-it. Combined with 'wick' the suffix, we have an alms house - a very-big-one.
The town called Hawick has a belly-shaped alleged defence in the centre of town, a 'motte' - but without a 'bailey' ditch around it... the lack of a ditch is a little-odd. I think it's a man-made accompaniment to the Maiden's Paps (see pic). With regard to the name, the prefix 'haw' sounds-like the relatively-modern word for a 'lady-of-the-night,' a whore, but I'm fair-sure that no pun was intended - though far-from certain. In-fact, whore (spelt 'hor') was the olde-worde for an adulteress.
What I am certain-of though, is that the town's association with maidens in the landscape will be no-news to the inhabitants around-here. Just outside the town stand-pertly - for all to see - the Maiden's Paps, her twin-peaks unashamedly-bared. Put-in-the-context of pregnant maids, three-swollen-mounds - the breasts and belly - make a complete picture.
Lilly White Tweed
The village of Coldstream, on the banks of the River Tweed is the border twixt England and Scotland - for many-centuries, THIS was and is the Northern Gate. On one-side of the bridge is Cornhill, and on the other is Coldstream - both place-names so goddess-oriented there's little need of any embellishment. The village is the birthplace of those bearskin hatted defenders of the monarch- the 'household-cavalry' (households = the home = Cancer) called the Coldstream-Guards - nicknamed the Lilywhites.
The river's name, 'tweed,' is a type of material used for clothing, and it stands 'tween two countries, 'tis where the twain meets, at the top-of the lady's-cleavage. The Anglo Saxon word, 'twaede' is a numeric reference: it means 2/3 or two-thirds. Two-thirds is a fraction, and in the ancient-view, portions and fractions are specifically of the Moon - because the Moon is the only heavenly-body to demonstrate phases, portions and fractions. Further - on mainland Britain there are three nations - England, Wales and Scotland. Everything to the south of this river belongs to 2/3 of the whole - England and Wales, and everything north to the other 3rd, Scotland, and the Tweed is roughly 2/3 of the way 'up' the country, or 1/3 'down.'
Motto: In My Defens God Me Defend
Scotland’s flag is - to my mind - a graphic, symbolic representation of the only heavenly-body that appears by portions or phases - and that’ll be the Moon - even though the country’s Royal Standard appears to be a representation of Leo the lion - that had me confused for some-time. Of-course it did. The sign Leo is ruled by the Moon goddesses beau, her young-man, her Adonis - the Sun, and without His light and warmth, She is invisible, not there. This was well-understood by the ancients who venerated Her - in cosmic-thought, ancient and modern, the rib-cage and chest of Cancer protects and nurtures the heart - and the heart is astrologically associated with the Sun, ruler of Leo. In a house (Cancer) is the place for a fire (Leo) - the hearth or heart. In all-cases, physiological, bricks-and-mortar, or cosmic, Leo (the Sun, the hearth, the heart) is surrounded, enclosed and nurtured by Cancer (the Moon, the house, the ribs).
The motto that goes-with the flag is what assures-me that it represents la lune and her Cancerian attributes: In Our Defens God Me Defend - y'see what I mean?
It is generally assumed by the ‘egg-heads’ that our ancient thinkers were unaware of the relative distances of Sun and Moon from the Earth, that because they appear to be the same-size they must-have thought they were the same-distance from us. To that assumption I say poo, poo and thrice-poo.
The druids and the ancient Brit’s had obviously worked-it-out a long time-back - they built the Stone-Hinge astronomical-computer to such exacting-standards of accuracy that it’s as clear as a bell to me and most open-minded investigators, that they were well-aware of the dimensions of the Earth and therefore the Solar-System - they’d also observed countless eclipses of the Sun by the Moon, and they’d have concluded from their mutual-survival that the Moon must-have passed in-front-of the Sun - they weren't daft.
Knowing then, that the Moon was closer to the Earth than the Sun, they concluded that the closer of the two heavenly-ones must-be mother - She's the one that looks-over the children at-night, shields-them from harmful-influences 'out-there' in the dark - while He's nowhere-to-be-seen - where's He at night when he's needed?
This relative closeness explains, I believe, the ancient Brit's ‘preference’ for the gods of the female-polarity - She was closer and more-likely to hear your prayers, She was attentive, hence more loving, more powerful. It has been suggested by various thinkers that the name Britain comes-from - is named-after - the beautiful goddess Bridget, Brigid, Bride, the bird, the chick. I find myself agreeing...
When the Romans came, they clearly recognised this love-of Bride, and came-up with the goddess Brid-ania - Britannia to you-and-me. She is usually shown seated on a rock, holding a spear with a spiked shield propped beside her - sometimes she is holding a standard, and leaning on the shield. She was venerated as deity - in London, York and Strathclyde, shrines were erected to Britannia as goddess.
On a mount triangular,
as the island of Britain itself is described to be,
we seat in the supreme place,
under the shape of a fair and beautiful nymph, Britannia herself...
Anthony Munday Triumphs of Reunited Britannia 1605.
Britannia's shield - the Union-Flag - is based-on the by-now very-familiar 'ritual-wheel' of the ancient-year - if-it ain't then all-I-can-say is that it's some incredible-coincidence, innit?
Gretna Green is in Dumfries and Galloway, near the mouth of the River Esk, historically the first village in Scotland, following the old coaching route from London to Edinburgh. The worst rail crash in British history, Quintishill rail crash, with 226 deaths, occurred near Gretna Green in 1915. Gretna Green is more-famous though as the place to elope-to and get married.
Gretna's famous "runaway marriages" began in 1754 when a new Marriage Act came into force in England. Under the Act, if a parent of a person under the age of 21 objected, they could prevent a marriage going ahead. The Act tightened up the requirements for marrying in England and Wales but not in Scotland, where it was possible for boys to marry at 14 and girls at 12 with or without parental consent. It was with the construction of a toll road passing through in the 1770s, that Gretna Green became the first easily reachable village over the Scottish border. The Old Blacksmith's shop became the focal tourist point for the marriage trade.
A few-miles up-the-road in the gardens at Portrack House that landscape architect Charles Jancks has been at-it again - this time it's called the Garden of Cosmic Speculation. Inspired by science and mathematics, with sculptures and landscaping on these themes, such as Black Holes and Fractals.
The garden is not abundant with plants, but sets mathematical formulae and scientific phenomena in a setting which combines natural features and 'artificial' symmetry and curves. It puts the observer and enjoyer into the mental-space where the synchronicity twixt man and nature can be viscerally known and understood. It is this very synchronicity that formed our landscape into a human-shape, and led to our landscape producing beings in human-shape.
The Garden of Cosmic Speculation is a landscape of waves, twists and folds, a landscape pattern designed to relate us to nature through new metaphors presented to the senses.
- Charles Jencks
The garden is private but usually opens on one day each year to raise money for Maggie's Centres.
Braw Lads o' Gala Water
(to be sung by a lass)
Braw, braw lads o' Gala Water,
Bonnie lads o' Gala Water;
I'll kilt my coats abune my knee,
And follow my love through the water;
Braw, braw lads.
Lothian lads are black as deils,
And Selkirk lads are no' much better;
I'll kilt my coats abune my knee
And follow the lad o' Gala Water;
Braw, braw lad.
It's ower the moss and doon yon glen,
And ower the bonnie blooming heather,
Nicht or day he bears the gree,
The bonnie lad o' Gala Water;
Braw, braw lad.
Corn rigs are fine and bonnie,
A block o' sheep is muckle better,
The wind will shake a field of oats
While lambs are frisklin' in Gala Water;
Braw, braw lads.
Adieu, soor plooms o' Galashiels,
Tae you, my faither, here's a letter;
It's I'm awa' wi' the black herd lad,
To bide wi' him in Gala Water;
Braw, braw lad.
Meaning of Scottish words:
kilt, tuck up
bears the gree, takes the prize,
Braw, great, excellent, good
Diving off in another-direction, to another dimension known as Galashiels.
Galashiels stands on the Gala Water - Gala sounds like a woman's name, to my English-ears - a woman that likes to party, 'cos a 'gala' is a festive occasion, a special entertainment - 'gala' is also reference to party-dress - which is kinda interesting - the iconic Scot's poet Rabbie Burns (Robert Burns) wrote a couple of poems about the town: Sae Fair Her Hair (so fair her hair) and Braw Lads (great lads). Every year the braw lads and braw lasses gather together and ritually parade-about the town on their braw horses, they cross the local hills and rivers and all sing the Braw Lads song by Rabbie Burns. They do like to hold galas here, it cannae be denied - they also know-how to make the clothes for their gala - Galashiels is known for textile making - it's the location of the School of Textiles and Design.
Galashiel's suffix 'shiels,' don't-half look reminiscent of shields though, dunnit - but the nearest Anglo Saxon word I can locate is 'sciel' and that's shells and shellfish! Y'know - oysters, cockles and crabs - what are the chances of that, eh?
To the west of the town there is an ancient earthwork known as the Pict's Work Ditch or Catrail. It extends many miles south and its height and width varies. There is no agreement among experts about the purpose of the earthwork - I'd guess that it's a 'shield' of Gala. There is another ancient site on the north west edge of the town, at Torwodlee, an Iron Age hill fort, with a later Broch built in the Western quarter of the hill fort, and overlapping some of the defensive ditches of the original fort. The Romans destroyed it in AD 140, soon after it was completed - buggers.
The town's coat of arms shows two foxes reaching up to eat plums from a tree, and the motto that goes-with-it is Sour Plums. They've got an explanatory-myth that goes with-it, it's all-to-do with some English soldiers who were caught scrumping plums from an orchard, and were executed for their crime. They won't do-THAT again. My belief is, though, that Galashiel's coat-of-arms is based on the tarot arcana of the Moon - the wolves have transformed into foxes, their canine brethren; the Moon is a plum-tree. I've put the two images next-to each-other here, so you can judge for yourself.
The annual festival in Peebles is called the Beltane - Beltane marks the cross-quarter-day that comes in the lead-up to Summer Solstice.
They ride-about the town and its bounds as they do in many Border-Towns, and this culminates with the crowning of the queen and selection of her court - the First and Second Courtiers, Sword Bearer and Standard Bearer; on the steps in front of the parish church. The adult principal of the festival (the queen and her court are of primary-school-age) is a bloke they call the Cornet, a local young man considered worthy of representing the town, who then carries the town standard for a year.
The Peebles-Hydro stands on a hill overlooking the town - it's a four-star hotel and holiday resort with a health-spa at its core of operations - one of many built in Britain during the second half of the nineteenth century. The Hydro was opened in 1881 to provide water cures and hydrotherapy remedies (pain-relief and treating illness) to guests.
In 2005, the New Economics Foundation ranked the town as the best in Scotland for its range of independent shops and 'home town identity.'
The toponomy is interesting - Cancer is the sign of 'The People' and Peebles sounds-like Peoples. I took-the place-name apart Anglo Saxon stylee and found that the prefix 'pee' is pea and a pea is a peafowl, while 'bles' the suffix, is blaes, and that's a firebrand, torch, lamp and a blaze.
The Greeks dedicated the peacock to Juno, the goddess of sky and stars, seeing the golden circles and blue background of the tail as an embodied mirror of the heavens. Early belief held that the peacock's blood could dispel evil spirits - and the Gates of Paradise were guarded by a pair of peacocks for several millennias before St Peter got the job.
Kilmarnock is named - the experts say - after the church of Saint Marnock - but you-know-me, I cannae accept THAT, no not never, I don't like it. I fly-in-the-face of accepted 'facts,' I have no-choice.
I looked at-it in Anglo Saxon, ho ho - what an idiot I am - they insist on this Gaelic hoo har.
The first syllable 'kil' is 'ciele,' in A.S - exactly the same pronunciation - and 'ciele' is coolness, cold. The second syllable 'mar' must-be 'mare,' silverweed, a monster, a nightmare. Finishing the word, the syllable 'nock' is 'noc' and that's the regularly abbreviated form of nocturnal.
Clearly this is exactly what Cancer is all-about - the dream-state of the subconscious-mind, watched-over, governed, protected by the Moon, the nocturnal-one.
The reference to Silverweed ('mare) also speaks-of the Moon, for silver is Hers - the plant grows mostly on the banks of rivers, the leaves covered with silky white hairs, particularly on the underside and stem. These give the plant a silvery appearance, particularly in Moon light - this plant is of the Moon.
Whilst we're on-the-subject of silver and nightmares, there's a whole region as-well-as a city up-here named after the lunar-metal, Stirling - and a legend about how the whole-city was saved from a certain nightmare by some creatures of the night.
For here at the city of Stirling, those wolves sneak-in to the picture again. According to legend, when Stirling was under attack from Vikings, wolves-howled in the night, alerting the townspeople in time for them to save their skins... wolves and silver and a nightmare averted.
As we're over-here on the western-side of the nation, we might-as-well pay-a-visit to Ayr, the county-town of Ayrshire - named-after the River Ayr. In former times the town was known as Inverayr - and still-is, on official-documents, etc.
'Inver,' the olde-prefix, would-be 'infaer,' ingress, entrance, entry. The suffix (now the town's-name) 'ayr,' is 'ayrnan,' to run away, run-out, go-over; pass-by, go. Clearly-enough these are references to the action of the river Ayr, but I have-to-say, go-over, ingress and entry are just-as-likely to be references to the controller of the waters - la lune, the Moon, gliding-overhead and running-away in the morning-light, like the wolves and the nightmares. And of course, entrances, portals, gates and doors are goddess references, if I'm not mistaken or demented, or-both.
East Kilbride has that same 'kil' as-in Kilmarnock - 'cil' is 'ciele,' in A.S and 'ciele' is coolness, cold. Bride we've met-with many-times before - but here she's cooling - definitely reference to the cool Moon and her goddess avatar, Bridget, Brigida, Bride, the bird, the chick.
Motherwell should need utterly no translation nor explanations as-to why mothers and wells are appropriate for this Cancerian cone-of-influence.The name Moderwelt appeared on a map of Lanarkshire made some time around 1583, printed in the Netherlands.
The prefix 'modor' has been correctly transliterated as 'mother,' but not entirely - as you can see from the dictionary-page hereby, 'modor' is the Mother (of animals). 'Mother of animals' would then, be - not just 'any-old' mother - but all mothers.
Where it's also not entirely correct, is in the suffix, 'well.' For 'welt,' in the original version, is not 'well,' but also to be agitated, rage, toss, well, bubble, seethe, foam, be hot, boil, swarm, flow, to rise (of a river).
The old county-town of Lanarkshire, Lanark seems to be making comment about the nature of the ever phase-changing Moon: the first syllable 'lan' is 'laene' - transitory, temporary, inconstant, poor, weak and sinful. The final syllable, 'arc' is ark, coffer, chest, box.
Tweed, tartan and paisley are names we all associate with clothing, and Scotland. By the 19th century, Paisley had established itself as a centre of the weaving industry, giving its name to the Paisley Shawl and the Paisley Pattern. The pattern is based-on and resembles a mango - so-much-so that American 'traditionalists' call the design 'Persian pickles' or 'Welsh pears.' Mangos, pickles and pears are food - governed by the goddess. Some believe it is a floral spray and a tree: a symbol of life and eternity - and the goddess. Paisley was formerly and variously known as Passelet, Passeleth, and Passela - only one-word in the entire dictionary starts with 'pass,' and that's the passion, the part of the 'gospel' about Christ's passion, called the Passion of Christ. Passion is based-on a Greek word meaning suffering.
The Passion of Christ features Jesus predicting both his betrayal & that Peter will deny-him 3 times before the cock-crows - under the Moon. They share the last supper - food is of Cancer and the goddess.
Paisley is in the county of Renfrewshire.
'Ren,' the first syllable, is rain and reign, whilst 'frew,' the final, is 'freo,' a woman, a lady.
The county emblem contains the goddess-elements we've seen all-through this Cancerian zone - a ship bearing a shield, and four sheaves of wheat or barley. Taken as a whole and put-in-context of everything-else we've seen, this 'sign' of Renfrew-shire says: the Goddess Rules, OK!
Glasgow is probably derived-from 'glaesglew' - 'glaes' is glass; 'glew,' is penetrating, prudent and wise. Glass is for windows so that light penetrates into your house, as-well-as for bottles of victuals.
The city sits upon the River Clyde, and Glasgow's early trade via the river, was in agriculture, brewing and fishing, with cured salmon and herring exported to Europe and the Mediterranean. Glasgow's substantial fortunes came from international trade, manufacturing and invention starting in the 17th century with sugar, tobacco, and then cotton and linen. By the late 18th century more than half of the British tobacco trade was concentrated on Glasgow's river, with over 47,000,000 lb of tobacco being imported at its peak. After extensive engineering projects to dredge and deepen the river, shipbuilding became a major industry.
The first bridge over the Clyde here was recorded around 1285, giving its name to the Briggait area of the city - Briggait is pronounced Bridget.
The name of the river that brought Glasgow's wealth, the Clyde, means cloud in Anglo Saxon - the city of glass sits upon the river of cloud. That explains where the Renfrewshire rain comes-from - the cloud of the Clyde (maybe the cloud is all that tobacco-smoke:-) ?
Except The Lord...
Edinburgh is the Capital-City of Scotland. The city's motto is all-about houses - it is the first three words of the 127th psalm: 'Except the Lord...' The entire phrase goes: Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it. Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.
'Ed,' as a prefix always denotes repetition, turning - the nearest I could get to 'edin' is Anglo Saxon 'edgeong,' pronounced pretty-much the same as 'g' is silent in Anglo Saxon - as-in weight, ought, nought etc. Thus 'edgeong' is 'edin' and it means becoming, or being young again.
When the Romans arrived here, they discovered a tribe whose name they recorded as Votadini, likely to be a Latin version of the name they called themselves - the letter 'f' was used for 'v' in the Anglo Saxon, and often letter 'd' for 't' - thus: 'fodadini.' 'Fodor' is food (for man) and fodder (for cattle). The suffix 'dini' is 'dinig,' (silent 'g') - manure.
When we put the various elements together, a nice picture forms - the land is made-young and vital again by the application of manure. The land is then enabled and produces food for the people and fodder for the beasts - who are kept-alive and enabled to continue the cycle, recycling the food through their organisms and returning the by-product to the land, which produces more food and fodder and on and on, unto eternity.
Lyon King of Arms
In the 16th century a massive defensive-wall was built, entirely enclosing the city. This meant there was nowhere to build new-houses so the canny Scots' invented the skyscraper. Stone-buildings of 11 storeys were common and there are records of buildings as high as 14 and 15 storeys.
Scotland, being ruled by the goddess of the Moon, eventually got married, her husband being - of course - the Sun-King, Leo the lion. In 1706 and 1707 the Acts Of Union were passed, uniting the Scottish and English Kingdoms. The two parliaments got married and formed the Parliament of Great Britain in London. The marriage or union was opposed by many Scots at the time and this led to riots in Edinburgh, the ancient Capital of the Scots. In 1732, the coat of arms was formally granted by the Lord Lyon King Of Arms. I've put the Lyon-King's seal alongside - it looks like another-version of the Chariot to my-eyes.
The Edinburgh Festival began in 1947 to 'provide a platform for the flowering of the human spirit.' The same year, eight theatre-groups gatecrashed it, and put-on their own event, the Fringe. It's now the world's largest arts festival, with this-years (2012) event going for over 25 days - 2,695 shows in 279 venues - last year they sold around 1.8 million tickets.
To my silly-mind the word fringe conjures-up lassies' hair-cuts and seamstress's adjusting hem-lines and running-up some curtains - this from Dictionary .Com; Fringe:
A decorative border of thread, cord, or the like, usually hanging loosely from a raveled edge or separate strip.
Like Stirling, Edinburgh also sits-on the River Forth which - as you can see from the map, is the Great Mothers gob - that is - her mouth. I reckon the name of the river is an abbreviated form of 'foreoath,' a preliminary-oath - swearing an oath is making-a-promise, making a vow - the estuary of the Forth is known-as the Firth of Forth, and I believe the word 'firth' is derived-from the Anglo Saxon word 'first,' period, space-of-time, space, respite, truce.
This 'preliminary-oath' then is a promise designed to give a 'cooling-off' period - an engagement-ring is a promissory-note. An old tradition in the pagan-past was the 'year-and-a-day' marriage. The couple vowed to stay-together for a year and a day - this gave them time to discover whether they wanted to become more-permanently wed. Only after this year-and-a-day had passed were they able to take the more serious vows, or decide that it wasn't going to work and go their separate-ways - no recriminations, no shame. I don't suppose it was a perfect system of coupling, but it sounds a little-more sensible to me than our system.
Little Sparta is in the Pentland Hills. The 5-acre garden includes concrete poetry in sculptural form, polemic, and philosophical aphorisms, together with sculptures and two temples. Altogether it includes over 275 artworks by the creators Ian Hamilton Findlay and his wife, Sue, and numerous craftsmen and women.
According to Ian: Usually each area gets a small artefact, which reigns like a small deity or spirit of place. My understanding is that the work is the whole composition - the artefact in its context. The work is not an isolated object, but an object with flowers, plants, trees, water and so on.
Finlay chose the name Little Sparta in response to Edinburgh's nickname, the Athens of the North, and playing on the historical rivalry between the Ancient Greek cities Athens and Sparta.
Coupling south-east with north-east Scotland, bridging the open-mouth of the goddess, are two bridges over the Forth one built to carry trains across in 1890, the other for cars, bicycles and pedestrians in 1964.
The rail-bridge - a category A listed-building, connects Edinburgh with Fife, leaving the Lothians at Dalmeny and arriving at North Queensferry; the bridge is described by the Collins Encyclopaedia of Scotland as the one immediately and internationally recognised Scottish landmark.
The Lothians - Edinburgh, Glasgow et al, are tucked under the chin of our goddess - 'lotha,' the first part of the place-name, means cape, mantle, cloak in Anglo Saxon. King James VI described Fife as a beggar's mantle fringed wi gowd - seems he might have known the meaning of Lothian in Anglo Saxon.
Fife was recorded as Fif in 1165. 'Fif' is the number five. Pentagram, pentangle and pentacle are various-names for a five-pointed star. This symbol was used as a defence - to keep away devils and bad-witches. A pentacle head-dress folded from fine linen, was sometimes worn as a defence against demons. The USA's defence establishment is in the centre of the pentacle, in the Pentagon - for the same occult-reason - to ward-off demons.
To practice five things under all circumstances constitutes perfect virtue; these five are gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness, and kindness.
It is only necessary to make war with five things; with the maladies of the body, the ignorances of the mind, with the passions of the body, with the seditions of the city and the discords of families.
There are five things which no one is able to accomplish in this world: first, to cease growing old when he is growing old; second, to cease being sick; third, to cease dying; fourth, to deny dissolution when there is dissolution; fifth, to deny non-being.
Salt pans heated by local coal were a feature of the Fife coast in the past. The red clay tiles on many old buildings in Fife arrived as ballast on ships and replaced the thatched roofs.
'Faul,' the prefix in Falkirk, seems to be talking about what we today would call the manifestations of the subconscious-mind - 'faul' means evil spirit. The suffix 'kirk' means church in both Scots' and Anglo Saxon - spelt 'circ.'
The Church Of Evil Spirit, oo-er.
to change colour in a dark hole
Dunfermlin. 'Dung' with a silent-g is one-of the olde words for a prison, whilst 'Ferm' has no exact match in Anglo Saxon, the nearest being 'fernes,' passage, transition, passing-away. The last-syllable, 'lin,' is linen. You can put these elements together in a variety of ways, but however you do-it, it calls-to-mind wombs, tombs, cells and ships.
Arbroath The earliest recorded name for the town was 'Aberbrothock.' The first couple of syllables 'aber' is Anglo Saxon 'aberan,' to bear, carry; carry a child.,'broth' is 'brosnian' transitory, perishable, corruptible - the final syllable, 'ock' looks-likely to be from 'acan,' to ache, suffer pain. Again I say that you can read-this in various-ways but they all point-towards wombs and their passengers.
Dundee As I mentioned above, 'dung' with a silent-g is one-of the olde words for a prison. The suffix 'dee' would be 'deag,' (silent g) and that's tinge, colour, dye. The economy of mediaeval Dundee centred on the export of raw wool, with the later production of finished textiles.
The town was the location of one of the worst rail disasters in British history, the Tay Bridge Disaster. The bridge was opened in 1879 and collapsed less than a year later, as a passenger train passed over it in a storm - 75 people died.
The cakes from Dundee are notable, and Cancer is the sign of food. The story-goes that Mary Queen of Scots didn't-like cherries in her cake, so the cake was first made for her, using almonds instead.
Cancer the crab is the sign of the cup or grail, so I find the place-names Cupar and Crail too close for coincidence, if you know-what-I-mean? I need not bother translating these names into Anglo Saxon, for that reason. Both places are really old, ancient. Today's Cupar grew around Cupar castle whilst current-Crail was built around the harbour - each of these, castles and portals - are havens or defenses and both are of the Great Mother, her arms open-wide to protect her children.
Those children, her people, tribe, family, are mentioned in the name of the River Tay - 'tay' is probably 'tael,' and 'tael' is number of people, tribe.
The other river that feeds into the Forth, the Earn, speaks of both an 'urn' (vase, cup etc) and a powerful bird-of-prey, for in Anglo Saxon an 'earn' was an eagle. And where (physiologically-speaking) IS the river of the eagle? It looks to me as though the River Eagle ('earn') is within the landscape-goddess's eye.... could this be the source of the saying Eagle-Eyes?
The River Forth itself, formed of the confluence of the tribe and eagle, combines the two ideas in various ways - 'for' as a prefix is: in the sight of, in or into the presence of, 'for,' on-account-of, for-the-sake-of, through, because-of, owing-to, by-reason-of; as-regards-this-world; by-God.
Montrose. The locals say the town's name means Mount of Roses. This goddess-oriented flavour is reflected by the motto on the town's seal: Marie ditat, rosa decorat - the sea enriches and the rose adorns.
For me though, Montrose says something slightly different - though the goddess is written right-through the local's motto - no problem with-that. But, in my-book, 'mon' is 'Mona,' the Moon (as you know), and 'trose,' the suffix (not rose) is 'treowness,' 'trueness,' object-of-trust - taken together then: 'mon' and 'treow' tell-us that 'the moon is true.' So, in-a-way, y'see - these are different-aspects, different-takes - roses and seas - different points-of-view on the same cosmic-archetype - the goddess.
The going-about and doings of the inhabitants have always been related to the beautiful-one - from its early days Montrose traded in skins, hides and cured salmon and began to export wheat and barley in the 17th century.
On the matter of the other-aspects of the sign-of-the-crab - the subconscious-mind and cells - Scotland's first Lunatic Asylum opened in Montrose in 1781, the Montrose Lunatic Asylum, Infirmary & Dispensary.
As the sign also of cups, grails, bowls etc, it's appropriate that Montrose sits on the north-side of the Montrose Basin, known to the locals-as The Sea Of Swans. There's a nature-reserve in the bay where you-can-see Pink-Footed Geese, Redknot, Redshank, Shelduck, Wigeon, Eider Ducks, Mute-Swans, Oyster-Catchers and Lapwings - as well as loads-of small birds... it's very-goddess.
I can't help punning on old-folks when I see this particular place-name - grampa and gramar (Grandpa and Grandma) - silly-me. I'm talking-about The Grampians,
Roughly half the land area of Scotland is covered by the Grampian mountains and National Park - this corresponds to the temple on the head of our goddess in the landscape. The name of the Grampians was first recorded by the Roman traveller Tacitus as Mons Graupius. In our olde tongue 'grap' is grasp and grip. 'Grapung' is sense of feeling, touch (groping), and something which is 'grapigendlic' is something that is tangible. 'Mons' is, as ever, 'Mona,' the Moon.
Of course, if we were shackled by the orthodox method, this means nothing at-all. We wouldn't have looked at the other place-names in this Cancerian-cone, and the Grampians would be 'stand-alone' geological-features that look very-nice but have no intrinsic meaning. But, because you and I have visited those other-places and seen what we've seen, we know that The Grampians are part-of a themed series.... along with baby's, nightmares, wolves... etc, etc. we now have groping and feeling for something tangible..... and it's all going-on up-there, in that pretty-head of hers.
On the west-coast, the town of Oban grew up around the distillery - founded 1794. Since the 19th century, Oban is a busy port which once shipped wool, whisky, slate and kelp to Liverpool and Glasgow - houses, clothes and food.
In Anglo Saxon the syllables 'ob+an' = a fruit, more-specifically, one legume.
- Local History | Features | Forfar Witches | Angus Council
Burn The Witch: The Forfar Witch Hunts Of The 1660's
In 2003 and 2009 the town played-host to the national mod - colloquially known as the Whisky Olympics - it's the festival of Scot's Gaelic song, arts and culture. The first-ever mod, held in 1892, was held here, so Oban is widely-considered it's natural-home.
Before we go and look-at the town of Forfar, over-there on the east-coast, I'll just point-out that Forfar is located on our landscape-goddesses forehead, just above her eyes. The Anglo Saxon prefix 'fore' is before, in-the-sight-of, because-of, for-the-sake-of, through, on-account-of, by-reason-of. The olde-worde for the forelock is 'forefex,' while the final-syllable, 'far,' is way, going, journey, course: life, proceedings, adventures.
The town was home to a very successful textile industry during and after the Industrial Revolution. In the late 18th century the firm of William and John Don & Co. was founded in the town. The firm originally bought and sold webs of linen which were woven in local cottages, although it also operated a small weaving shed.
In December 1662 Helen Guthrie was the last witch to be executed in Forfar - eight-women had been executed before her and at least-two more had been whipped all-the-way to the town's-gate and exiled.
Sometime during the 19th century, on one-of-the-hills outside the town a farmer ploughed-up a pictish stone, now on display in the Meffan Museum in town. It's quite-beautiful, as you can see, but it's also very-rare (they-say) because (they-say) there's a flower carved into it. Personally, I can't see any flower - unless they're talking about what my-eyes-see as the goddess-figure floating high-above the scene.....? I see two fiery solar-wheels, a Z-shaped pathway and a goddess... I dunno 'bout you?
Forfar 'Bridies' are said to have been 'invented' by a Forfar baker in the 1850s. According to an article in Wikipedia: The name may refer to the pie's frequent presence on wedding menus, or to Margaret Bridie of Glamis, who, according to the olde-wive's tales sold them at the Buttermarket in Forfar. Brides and pies - what can I say?
Cows are also frequently mentioned around these-parts - those old-wives tell-us that a householder left a tub of beer in his doorway to cool, and a passing cow guzzled-it. When the owner of the cow was charged for the beer, a local law-man ruled that if the beer was drunk at the doorway it was 'stirrup cup', to charge for which would be an insult to Scots hospitality. This became a byword: Be like the coo o Forfar, an tak a stannin drink.
Forfar is the county-town of the district with the ancient-name of Angus - 'angu' = 'enge' and 'enge' means confinement, constraint, narrowness and closed.
Inverbervie - we've seen 'inver' previously - it was and is 'infaer,' to 'in-fare,' ingress, entrance, entry. 'Ber' = 'baer,' is a bed, and it also means naked, unclothed. The final syllable 'vie' would be 'feax' (pronounced the same - silent x), and 'feax' is a head of hair. With an extra 'e' on the end - 'feaxe' - the hair becomes the long-haired tail-of-a-comet! Of-course, that would be flaxen hair, methinks.....
..... because the first flax-spinning mill in Scotland was established here around 1790, and by 1910 there were nine mills in-operation.
The bloke who designed and built the Cutty Sark tea-clipper - Hercules Linton was born here.
a Stonehaven or Omphalos at Delphi
Stonehaven grew around an Iron Age fishing-village - the auld-toon as they call-it, which gradually-expanded inland from the seaside. As late as the 16th century, old maps indicate the town was called Stonehyve - though it was known as Kilwhang before-that, so that's the one we'll look-at. The prefix 'kil' is 'cyll' in Anglo Saxon - a skin, leather-bottle, flagon and vessel, whilst 'whang' would-be intended as 'wan,' and that's wanting, deficient, absent, lacking - clearly-then the auld toon's-name meant an empty-bottle. Waning or emptying are ascribed to both rivers and the Moon... as-well-as dreams, when you wake-up in the morning.
Taking the 16th century hive made-of-stone as a motif, it has-to-be-said that hives are man-made houses for honey-bees who provide honey for the human-population and food in-general because without the pollination of plants by the bees, there would be no food. The queen bee, whom all the others serve during their brief lives, was, in ancient-days, an epiphany of the goddess herself.
The humming of the bee IS the voice of the goddess, the sound of Creation. Virgil, for instance, describing the noise of howling and clashing made to attract swarming bees, said: .... they clash the cymbals of the Great-Mother.
The tombs at Mycenae were shaped as beehives, as was the omphalos at Delphi in Classical Greece, where Apollo ruled with his chief oracular priestess, the Pythia, who was called the Delphic Bee.
Familiars of the goddess since the dawn-of-time, bees appear frequently in classical mythology, where they're called the birds of the muses, and are attracted to the heavenly flowers, from which they make divine-nectar, honey. Honey is antibacterial, and its mildly laxative properties and sweet taste made it a primary ingredient in ancient medicines. It was widely believed to be a source of divine nourishment. In the myths of the ancient world, honey often nourished a divine child raised in secret by a goddess in the depth of caves.
Moving-on again now, to the county-town of Perthshire, Perth, on the banks of the River Tay.
Physiologically-speaking Perth is located in the back-of-the Great Mother's eye..... I went to the olde dictionary and the closest word I could find to match 'perth' is the rune for P, actually called Perth. The rune itself (see image, right) looks a bit like an overturned-cauldron or an open-eye - that's because it signifies that something hidden will come to light; the disclosure of secrets, and the recovery of lost articles; also signifies the seeing of opportunities which had-been ignored or overlooked. It's almost as-if the ancients knew exactly where Perth is....
Perth has been known as The Fair City since the publication of the story Fair Maid Of Perth in 1828 (by Sir Walter Scott). During the later medieval period the town was also called St John's Toun, or Saint Johnstoun by its residents in reference to the main church of John The Baptist. I haven't mentioned St John since the beginning of this article and here he is again - you'll remember that St John's Day is Summer Solstice and that's celebrated in the sign we're looking-at, Cancer the crab.
The presence of Scone Abbey, home of the Stone of Destiny where the King of Scots was crowned, enhanced the early importance of the town. Perth became known as a 'capital' of Scotland, due to the frequent residence of the royal court. Royal Burgh status was soon given to the town by King William the Lyon in the early 12th century. The town became one of the richest burghs in the country, doing trade with France, the Low Countries and Baltic Countries for goods such as Spanish silk and French wine.
The founding of Perth Academy in 1760 helped to bring major industries to the town, such as linen, leather, bleach and whisky.
The river Tay - the fluid in the eye of the Great Mother, spelled Teag by the ancients but pronounced the-same, mean several things that only make any-sense at-all when you recognise the physiological dimensions which lie-behind the colourful and 'quaint' place-names found in these Isles Of The Gods, as Great Britain was once known. 'Teah' means case, chest, enclosure - that'll be a metaphoric eyeball, I'll be bound. Its second meaning is cord, thong, band, fetter (tie) - wow! She's wearing a blind-fold.
I know I've said this before - you couldn't make this stuff-up...
Having 'seen' Perth reveal a mystery-or-two, we maust move-on, this-time to Crieff.
This from Wikipedia: For a number of centuries Highlanders came south to Crieff to sell their black cattle whose meat and hides were avidly sought by the growing urban populations in Lowland Scotland and the north of England. The town acted as a gathering point or tryst for the Michaelmas cattle sale held each year and the surrounding fields and hillsides were black with tens of thousands of cattle .
During the October Tryst (as the cattle gathering was known), Crieff was the prototype 'wild west' town. Milling with the cattle were horse thieves, bandits and drunken drovers. The inevitable killings were punished on the Kind Gallows, for which Crieff became known throughout Europe.
Ye lovers of the picturesque, if ye wish to drown your grief,
Take my advice,
and visit ye,
the ancient town of Crieff.
'Crieff' is one-of-those words that's neither this-nor-that - the experts say that it's a Gaelic-word meaning tree - maybe it is. I, however, have to go-with the Anglo Saxon. In that language 'craeft' looks-like the nearest meaningful-word - it means hex, trick, fraud and deceit.
The little village of Killin sits at the western-head of Loch Tay. The village runs from the Falls of Dochart down towards the Loch. The Falls are crossed by a narrow multi-arched stone bridge which carries the main road from the east into Killin.
Near the Falls in the old wool-mill stand the eight healing-stones of St Fillan. Each stone represents a part of the body which it is supposed to heal.
St Fillan's feast-day is the 20th of June. The saint's original chapel was adjacent to a deep body of water which became known as St. Fillan's Pool. In Anglo Saxon Killin was spelt 'cilian,' and 'cilian' means to be cold.
St. Fillan is the patron saint of the mentally ill. As late as the 19th century, such people were dunked in St. Fillan's Pool, bound and left overnight tied to the font or a pew, in the ruined chapel. If the bonds were loosed by morning it was taken as a sign that a cure had taken place.
St. Fillan was ploughing the fields near Killin when a wolf killed his ox and Fillan could not continue ploughing. A magical-geis was put on the ox, which meant the wolf was obliged to take the place of the ox and do its work. According to Wikipedia the name Fillan probably means "little wolf" in Irish Gaelic, being formed on a diminutive of faol, an old word for the animal.
However, in Anglo Saxon his name - 'Fillan' - seems-to-be astronomical in nature - and appropriately too. Given that Fillan's Feast-Day (20th June) is on the first day of the Solstice when the Sun stands-still for three-days and nights, and reverses-direction, begins to fall south.... and die, then Fillan's name in Anglo Saxon, 'feallan' meaning to fall, decay, fail, fall headlong, die; fall-upon, attack and over-throw is so perfectly apposite I'm almost lost-for-words.
By the end of the 18th century there was a local linen industry. Flax was grown locally and spun in small mills and woven into linen by home based weavers.
Aberfeldy Birks (birch)
Not far-off Aberfeldy has such-nice countryside all about-it that it's birch-trees have even been the star of an old Scottish tune....
Bonie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,
Bonie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy!
Now summer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlets plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonie lassie, &c.
While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blythely sing,
Or lightly flit on wanton wing,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonie lassie, &c.
Birch or Beorc is the runic letter B. Birch wood was used by the Druids to whip evil spirits and influences from the human body. It's white bark is of the Moon, is both birth-giver and death-bringer. Birch was known as Lady of the Woods (the White Goddess) - the bark was used in love spells. Birch represents a new beginning and new starts as well as birth.
I'm looking-at nearby Pitlochry purely because of the name... a 'pytt' is a grave, well and/or a hole. A 'loc' is a lock, bar, bolt, enclosure, fold, prison and stronghold. The final syllable - 'ry,' is a rug, blanket.
I have to say that it's the place-names that catch-my-eye each-time, I know nothing of Scots' history or culture so this is all 'pot-luck.' That's why we'll look-at Rhynie next - like Pitlochry, it's the name. In Anglo Saxon, y'see, 'ryne' means running, onward-course, flux, flow, period-of-time, cycle, course-of-life, expanse, extent, orbit as well-as mystery, dark-saying.
Rosehearty was founded by a group of shipwrecked Danes in the 14th century - it's a very-small settlement on the coast - but it's the name - rose + hearts.
Along the coast a-bit is the only village where deep-water wooden fishing boats are still built - Macduff. It's named-after William Duff who bought the place and honoured himself by erasing the old-name of the village, Doune, They-say that that's a Celtic word meaning hill-fort. Hmm... in Anglo Saxon though it means to put ashore, halt, encamp, drop-anchor.
Peterhead catches-my-eye. The town was founded by fishermen and is often referred to as Blue Toon, and the Natives as Blue Tooners. More correctly they are called Bloomogganners, supposedly from the blue worsted stockings that the fishermen used-to wear.
Peterhead Convict Prison opened in 1888, gaining a reputation as one of Scotland's toughest prisons. Until the opening of the prison, Scots convicts were transported to England to serve their sentences. There was a long-history of poor conditions for prisoners, who called-it Scotland's gulag, a prison of no hope. I'm happy-to-report that it's being demolished as we speak.
The eponymous Peter of Peterhead would-be St Peter, I assume..... he's the heavenly gate-keeper - if St Peter gives-you the thumbs-up and turns that big golden key in the lock, the pearly-gates will swing-open and you're in. But if he looks-on his list and your name's not down - forget-it. Your name's not down, you're not coming in!
Not far-away the city or town of Elgin straddles the River Lossie. That-name - Lossie, is so-close to the Scot's term for a maiden: lassie, I thought I'd better mention-it: the Lassie's River.
There was a castle in Elgin and it stood atop Lady Hill. They also had the grandest cathedral in Scotland but it burned-down not-long after it first opened - they rebuilt-it and then that spree of cathedral-wrecking occurred - the Reformation they called-it. They took its roof-off a long-time-ago, but it's still-standing there testifying to its former greatness.
The town has its own coat-of-arms and a motto: Sic Itur Ad Astra, thus one goes to the stars : such is the way to immortality.
The river's-name, Lossie (Lassie), means loss and destruction in Anglo Saxon - could our lassie be losing her hair? Her mind? Her direction?
Let's look-at the place-name itself - Elgin - 'El' signifies several things, but the one I'm thinking-of is the one we've seen before - 'El' is the Elysian Fields or the entrance to the Underworld. The suffix 'gin' confirms this: 'gin' is a yawning-deep.
You also have to keep-in-mind the topographical-facts - this northern area of Britain is up-there in our landscape-goddesses head - how deep is that?
The Big Bad Wolf
Whilst we're up-here in the goddesses forehead we might-as-well look-at the Burgh of Forres. Forres had a castle once and a cathedral - Shakespeare's play Macbeth locates Duncan's castle in Forres - the whole-burgh was destroyed by the so-called Wolf of Badendoch - the third son of King Robert II of Scotland.
In Anglo Saxon the place-name Forres makes all-kinds of sense - 'for' is before, in-the-sight-of, in or into the presence of, as-far-as, during, before; on-account-of, for-the-sake-of, through, because-of, owing-to, etc, etc.
Zipping-off again, to nearby Inverness. 'Inver' pops-up a-lot in Scotland - and as before, 'infaer,' means to 'in-fare,' ingress, entrance, entry - something's coming-in.The suffix 'ness' means two distinctly different things - cliff, cape, headland; alternatively it means no, not, not-at-all. The Ness happens-to-be the name of the river upon-which Inverness sits - the river of No. The river has its source in the world-famous monster's lair, Loch Ness - the lake of No.
Inverness was one of the main strongholds of the Picts - in 565AD there was an attempted entrance, ingress, entry by St Columba - he was attempting to convert the Pictish king (Brude) to the new-fangled cult of the time, Christianity. A monk's cell is said to have been established by early Celtic monks on St Michael's Mount, a mound close to the river of No.
Fortrose is known for its ruined 13th century cathedral - Oliver Cromwell dun-it - and as the home of the Brahan-Seer. In the Middle Ages Fortrose was the seat of the bishopric of Ross. 'Ross' means rose, whichever dialect you say-it-in. So, we have defences (forts) and roses rolled-into-one.
Dingwall hoves into-view - the birth-place of Macbeth, they-say, which helps explain (perhaps) the fact that Dingwall once had the biggest castle north of Stirling - back-in Medieval times. Any-road, in Anglo Saxon the first syllable 'ding' is a prison, on the one-hand, and dung on the other. The final-part - 'wall,' is 'wael' in the olde-tongue, and 'wael' is dead-bodies, field-of-battle, slaughter, carnage - as-well-as a whirlpool, eddy, pool, flood, river, sea and ocean.
On the top of Knockfarrel, a hill about three miles west, stands a large and complete hill-fort. Located in Caith, currently called Ross-Shire, in the lands of the clan Urchurdan this ancient hillfort stands atop a steep rise at a height of 579 feet. It's a vitrified fort, subjected, in ancient-times, to an unknown source of intense heat that fused the blocks of the fort together! It measures 420 feet by 120 feet and is defended by what they call breastworks.
It's been suggested that the fort was burned by a clan trying to gain control of the site and the nearby spring in Strathpeffer - they must have had a lazer-cannon, that's all I can say. The mineral-springs were certainly worth having-though - reputed to have healing powers, curing such diverse problems as digestive and kidney disorders, rheumatism and skin disease.
This region was called Caith before it was called Ross - both of these county-names are versions of maiden's-names Cath (Catherine) and Rose. Any-road, I looked-up 'caith' in the Anglo Saxon dictionary - the nearest I could get to 'caith' is 'caeg,' and that means solution, explanation, 'key.'
We've seen plenty of doors, gates, chests and boxes in this sign of the chest, but this is the first-time a key has actually appeared.
Museum of Childhood
Strathpeffer used-to-be popular as a spa resort due to those sulphurous-springs. The pump-room in the middle of the village dates from 1819, and soon after that a hospital and hotel were built. The disused waiting-rooms at the defunct railway station now contains the Highland Museum Of Childhood, of local, regional and national significance, telling the story of childhood through photographs, displays, illustrative material and artefacts - including dolls, toys and games, children’s costume and childhood furniture.
To decode the place-name Anglo Saxon-wise, then: the 'strath' prefix is a form of 'street,' meaning straight, and the suffix, 'peff' is 'paeth' a path, a track, while the full-form 'paether' is to traverse, travel-over, pass-along.
It's that old public-transport theme, peeking-out from behind the veil..... mass-travel was on-foot in the old-days, and tracks and paths were the ancient height of technology - allied with bridges and ships you could go-anywhere. So here you have a healing-spring and an hotel.
Strathpeffer (the straight-path) has been described around these-parts as the Highland Village of Music. Deacon Blue and the Kaiser Chiefs are among the acts that've performed in the village's Pavillion.
Off-we-go-again, to Bonar Bridge, the village on the Kyle of Sutherland. The place is clearly-enough named-in-part after the bridge across the Kyle, but the 'bonar' part-of-it is interesting - in Anglo Saxon 'bon' means an ornament. I say that it's interesting because of what some workmen found when they were blasting granite-boulders by the bridge - loads of ornaments - buried-there in the Bronze-Age. The hoard's in the Scot's National Museum now, the Migdale Hoard they call-it. A bronze axe head, sets of bronze bangles and anklets, and a series of beautifully carved jet and cannel coal buttons that may well have adorned a Bronze Age jacket, bronze hair ornaments and fragments of an elaborate bronze headdress. Fit-for-a-goddess, I'd say, a very-beautiful goddess.....
And seeing-as they call this river estuary a Kyle, I wonder if her name was Kylie?
Knock on the Door @ Dornoch
Well, you can't blame-me for thinking-that, can ya? Let's go and look-at Dornoch, the last place a witch was burnt in Scotland. Her name was Janet Horne - condemned to death in 1727. The Witch's Stone, commemorating her death, is oddly inscribed with the year 1722.
Dornoch had a castle where the bishop of Cath's Head(land) Caithness, lived. It was burned-down, then restored. The castle decayed during the 18th century, but was restored in 1813–1814 to serve as a school and jail, and then in 1947 it became an hotel.
'Dor' is a door. 'Noch' is a knock on the door.
Over on the western-side, the name Ullapool is enough to attract my attention - the pool of Ulla? I looked in the Anglo Saxon dictionary for the answer, and found merely two words prefixed with u & l - 'ulf' wolf and 'ule' owl. Either-way is OK with me because both owls and wolves are associated with the Moon, wolf-howls and owl-hoots beneath the Moon - and as we've seen countless-times already, pools and the Moon have ancient associations.
Leaping back to the other-coast again, to the village of Golspie which place-name I read as 'golspell,' because 'gol' means sing, cry, scream, sing-charms and practice incantations. 'Spell,' the suffix, is story, fable, news, message, narrative... there are a number of ways to read this, but they all interleave and fit-together appropriately - think infants crying; think mother soothing; think of casting-spells beneath the Moonlight.
Just along the coast is the small village of Brora -a small industrial village having at one time a coal pit, boat building, salt pans, fish curing, a distillery, wool mill, bricks and a stone quarry. Stone from the quarry was used in the construction of London Bridge, Liverpool Cathedral, and Dunrobin Castle. When in operation, the coalmine was the most northerly one in the UK.
Taking the name Brora apart in Anglo Saxon, as you do, we have two parts - 'bro' and 'ora' - taking 'ora' first, ora is ore, unwrought-metal, and 'bro' is probably of 'braec,' an area of untilled-land.
That castle at Dunrobin is just along the coast - the pile's origins lie somewhere in the Middle Ages, but most of the present building is the work of that dude we've met several times before, Sir Charles Barry who extended the building in 1845.
The Durness area suffered greatly from the Highland Clearances of 1819, and thereafter throughout the 19th century. The Durness riots of 1846 were caused when the women of the area defied the Sheriff's Officer sent to deliver the eviction-orders, and disorder occurred in the village inn when a second attempt was made, causing the officers to be run out of town, ingloriously.
'Dur' the prefix we've met at a few other places in this Cancerian cone-of-Moon-light - most notably at Durham. 'Dur' is a door, and 'ness' is a head(land). Durness then, means the door in the head. Perhaps that door in the head is reference to Smoo Cave? It's a conjoined sea cave and freshwater cave with a small river running through it and a waterfall. The surrounding coastline is some of Europe's most isolated and spectacular, with the nearby Clo Mor Cliffs being the highest on the British mainland, at 921 ft high.
When John Lennon was a lad he came to Durness on childhood-holidays - he came-back here in 1969 with Yoko and the kids - it's said that In My Life from Rubber Soul was based-on a poem John had written about Durness while he was here on one-of-those holidays.
nightmares & beasts
I've barely mentioned the lochs of Scotland - there are a lot-of-them and to mention them individually would extend this already-long piece too far, methinks - it's been estimated that there are some 31,460 freshwater lochs. Suffice-it to say, I hope, that lakes or lochs are utterly characteristic-of and 'governed' by the goddess. But I'd better mention Loch Ness at least, hadn't I - and its occupant - that denizen of the dark, Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster. Cancer is the sign of the subconscious-mind, the realm of the nightmare, governed by the shape-shifting Moon, she who governs dark-places, pools, seas, rivers - she whom is the Night Mare.
The only island on Loch Ness is called Cherry Island, at the southwestern end. It's an artificial-island, built in the Iron age - a crannog. There was a second island named-after the domesticated-wolf - Dog Island, but they built the Caledonian Canal and the risen water-level sank-it - a drowned wolf/dog and a maid called Cherry - and cherry is an old metaphor for viginity. In Anglo Saxon Ness means no! As well-as escape-from, survive, be-saved.
On the south-eastern shore of the loch stands Boleskine House, formerly owned by and lived-in by the much-misunderstood and even more maligned Great Beast 666 Aleister Crowley. Crowley considered this house to be the Thelemic Kiblah, a kind of esoteric Mecca or a focal point for mystical energy, making it a powerful center for performing intense magical rituals.
His 'wife' was the 'channel' and he was the 'author' of the ground-breaking new-age Bible called The Book Of The Law:
1. Had! The manifestation of Nuit.
2. The unveiling of the company of heaven.
3. Every man and every woman is a star.
4. Every number is infinite; there is no difference.
15. Now ye shall know that the chosen priest & apostle of infinite space is the prince-priest the Beast; and in his woman called the Scarlet Woman is all power given. They shall gather my children into their fold: they shall bring the glory of the stars into the hearts of men.
16. For he is ever a sun, and she a moon. But to him is the winged secret flame, and to her the stooping starlight.
Anyway, Jimmy Page the wizard of Led Zeppelin bought the place in the 70's... overlooking the scrying-pool of the loch.... he called Crowley a misunderstood genius.
No Quarter Led Zeppelin:
Close the doors, put out the light
You know they won't be home tonight
The snow falls hard and don't you know
The winds of Thor are blowing cold
They're wearing steel that's bright and true
They carry news that must get through
They choose the path where no-one goes
They hold no quarter,
They hold no quarter.
Walking side by side with death
The devil mocks their every step
The snow drives back the foot that's slow
The dogs of doom are howling more
They carry news that must get through
To build a dream for me and you
They choose the path that no one goes
They hold no quarter,
They ask no quarter,
They hold no quarter,
They ask no quarter...they think about no quarter...With no quarter quarter.
tongue and teeth
Leaping-about all-over-the-place again - Tongue is the name of a crofting-village. The geologists reckon that the name is a topographical-description of the tongue-shaped headland of the Kyle of Tongue. Maybe it is, maybe it ain't. I deconstructed the name 'tongue' in Anglo Saxon and discovered that a 'tongue' is a pair-of-forceps, tongs. You and me are able to make sense of this - but only because we know it's part-of-a-pattern. We know that Tongue village is 'in' the sign of the crab. We know that the sign of the crab is the sign of the womb, mothers and infants - and in that respect forceps make perfect sense because every midwife uses them. She grabs-baby by the head and gently-but-firmly pulls.... In that respect it's worth keeping-in-mind where Tongue is located - on the top-of-the-head of Brigit, the midwife to Mary.
When the experts on tv in documentary's and travel prog's look at places they always look at them in isolation, and are forced to come-up-with all sorts of reasons for the quirky names of places. The truth is that within the British Isles there is no-such-place - in these islands every-place is related-to every-other-place (within the same-sign). No-place stands isolated.
Sangobeg is just-along the coast, a very-small crofting township where the peasants were forced to live during the Highland-Clearances. The soil is very-thin and nothing can grow in it - it's good for nothing - the folks had to do a six-mile hike to get to the nearest peat-bogs, and peat was the only-source of fuel for cooking and heating - nothing grows here. The place-name decoded: the prefix 'sang' is a sound, a song, a psalm, a poem, a lay; 'obeg' is 'oeg' and that's a way, direction, path, road, highway, journey. When taken in the correct context, and juxtaposed-with the forceps of Tongue village, we know what the sound is, and who's in the middle of a journey.
Along the coast is an equally interesting place-name, Rispond - respond...? Actually, 'ris' is fury, and 'pond' is a cistern or lake. The fishing-village of Rispond is perched on the shore of a sea-loch called Eribol. It appears then, that the ancients knew Loch Eribol as the furious pond..... that makes a lot-of-sense because you can get in your little fishing-boat here and sail round to the nearby Cape-of-Wrath.
5 miles along the edge of the furious lake is the village with the cool-sounding name of Laid. 'Laid' would be of 'laedan,' take a wife, marry, produce, bring-forth, lead-life; sprout-forth, grow, spread.
A few miles south of Tongue we find Ribigil.
Ribs and gills? 'Rib' is a rib but also the olde word for the soul. A rib relates specifically to womankind, of-course, because Eve was made from Adam's rib - and because the chest is 'ruled' by this sign of the mother, Cancer. The final-syllable 'gil' is from 'gild,' society, group. Ribbigil then is a group of ribs - a metaphoric-sisterhood.
Up-there on the north-coast down-the-road from Torrisdale Castle is the village called Betty Hill. How-about-that, eh? We go-round looking for hints and clues leading to things-of-women concealed in the everyday-world of place-names and culture - and here's one that needs-no decoding whatever. Say hello to Betty Hill.
Going-east a few miles there lies the scattered settlements of Strathy - it also 'takes-in' Baligill, Brawl, Aultiphurst and Laidnagullin. Those really-are the names. We've got to have-a-look at them in Anglo Saxon. Let's-start with Strathy. It simply must be of 'straet,' an olde Anglo Saxon word for a bed. Beds are appropriate for this sign of the goddess, for in beds babies are conceived and born; beds are also places of safety - defences from the things-of-the-night, and the place where the subconscious-mind rules via the dream-state, beneath the Moon, ruler of Cancer and the night (and the midsummer).
We have the sisterhood or guild thing again at Baligill, only this is not a good-thing here - the prefix 'bali' is baleful, wicked, noxious, and deadly, dangerous andevil - this is a sisterhood of wickedness.... a black-coven.
How about the village called Brawl? In Anglo Saxon 'braw' is a brew.....
Aultiphurst; the prefix 'aul' is a hook or a fork. The second-syllable 'tip' is 'tib,' a victim, a sacrifice, an offering. 'hurst' is 'hyrst,' an ornament, decoration, jewel, treasure, accoutrement, and even armour.
Laidnagullin: 'laidna' is 'laedan,' take-a-wife, marry, produce, bring-forth, sprout-forth, spring, grow. 'Gullin' would be 'galan,' sing, call, cry, scream, practice incantations, sing charms.
Next-stop is Armadale - that's arm, as-in defend; and 'adale' is 'aethle,' costly, valuable, splendid and fine. A little to the north Totegan is one of the most northerly hamlets in the mainland UK. The first-syllable 'tot' is an infant, aah... actually 'tot' was the olde-spelling for tooth. And teeth, as we've noted elsewhere, are defensive-weapons, as-well-as being the means to get food/nourishment into the body. The final part of the place-name - 'egan' is 'ecgan' meaning to sharpen, to 'edge' a tool or blade. A hamlet named-after sharpened-teeth - (think: wolves?) - you couldn't make-this-stuff-up.
The village of Reay is just along the road from the nuclear research establishment of Dounreay - according to local tradition the place-name Dounreay came about after a local with a strong accent tried to pronounce down Reay to a map maker (meaning down the road from the village of Reay). The nearest Anglo Saxon word I can find that would sound remotely similar to the 'reay' is 'ra,' and that's fish-eggs - roe. Fish eggs fulfil two Cancerian positions at the same-time - they are in-vitro fishes and nourishing food.
Fast Breeding Fish Egg
The 'doun' or allegedly down prefix to 'reay,' is almost right.... 'don' is put, place, take, put-ashore, arrive-at, halt, encamp, cast-anchor; 'don' is also 'to do,' make, act, perform, cause. When we combine 'doun' and 'reay' we get various interesting and appropriate 'messages,' don't we. But I'll leave it to your imagination and the 5 fast-breeders to divine the most fitting, in this sign of the mother, child, alchemy, the sea, wolves, the Moon and the home. (amongst other related-things).
Wick can be read in two appropriate-ways, maybe four or five.... we've come-across many 'wicks' in this Cancerian zone, you'll no-doubt recall. 'Wic' with one 'c' is a house, dwelling-place, lodging, habitation, mansion, village, town, entrenchment, castle or a fortress. - you can take your pick, all fit with this sign. With an extra 'c' and an 'e' the house becomes a 'wicce,' a witch. Replace the 'e' with 'a,' and you have the 'wicca,' wizard, soothsayer, astrologer, as we've seen before.
Not far-off is Thurso, the northernmost town on the mainland. St Peter's Kirk is dated circa 1220 - St Peter took the place of the peacock whom used-to guard the gates-of-paradise, and here stands his ruined-old-church at the northern gate of the Sun, in Thurso - I have to admit, it doesn't look-like the entrance to heaven, but then - looks can be deceiving.
House of the Northern gate
As the northernmost town it is, of-course, placed right on the top of the head of the Great Mother known as the Great Brigid. We call her Great Britain still, for great she is, great indeed.
Any-road, in Anglo Saxon Thurso is derived from 'thurh,' with 'so' welded on the end. 'Thurh' is through - in terms of space it means to pass through it, in terms of time it refers to passing through it, the meanwhile; it is the causal-agent - it is through, by-means-of, in consequence-of, because-of; in, with, by, in conformity-with, for-the-sake-of, in-the-name-of, on-behalf-of.
May is a woman's name - the Castle of Mey stands on a prominent headland over-looking the distant Orkneys. It appeared in the novel Spy Castle by Nick Carter, as the eerily-fitting location of a black-mass.
In the olde tongue 'mey' and 'may' derive directly from 'maeg,' female-relative, maiden, wife, woman.
Dunnet is a little-way-off. Just outside the main-village stands Dwarick House, otherwise known as The House of the Northern Gate, which sits in a commanding position on Dunnet Head, overlooking the west side of the village. It was once run-as the local salmon station, but the House of the Northern Gate was eventually made into an hotel in the '60s.
Watercolour artist Keith Tilley has painted at-least a couple of works with the House of the Northern Gate as their focus.
Dunnet Head is the most northerly point on the mainland of Great Brighid - the actual 'point' itself called Easter Head - as I've remarked-upon in a previous article in this series (Aries and Oester part 9), the word Easter is directly derived-from the name of the goddess Esther, Eoster, and the female hormone estrogen (eggs) is named after Esther, the goddess of fertility.
The meaning of the place-name Dunnet Head tells us something about her looks, her hair more specifically - 'dunn' is dingy brown, dark coloured + head.
A mile-away is Brough, a name assuredly derived from 'broht,' an Anglo Saxon word meaning to produce, bring-forth, carry and present. The experts reckon otherwise though (of course), they insist that 'brough' is a corrupted form of 'broch,' one-of-those weird stone-towers the ancients built all-over ancient Scotland - Iron Age drystone hollow-walled structures found only up-here in Scotland. I've pasted the map (from Wikipedia) alongside showing where they're found - Caithness, Sutherland and the Northern Isles have dense concentrations, but there are also a great many brochs in the west and the Hebrides.
A broch was a very-early house - a form of defensive-homestead, fort or castle, and that's appropriate to the sign of the home-building sign of the crab. Archaeologists bicker over when they were built - or why - suffice it to say they're really-old. The majority of experts settle on the 1st and 2nd centuries BC, but radio-carbon testing on sheep-bones excavated in a broch on Shetland take them much-farther back in time - 390 - 200 BC is reported as the age of the bone.
But I'll stick-with my alternative interpretation anyway, as 'broht,' carrying, producing and presenting, fits the pattern as-well or even-better - this is the sign of the mother as well as the home, as you are well-aware.
It's also the sign of the door or gate that can be closed and opened and locked shut, as you'll recall. I feel that the Scot's name of the bodies-of-water, lochs and their accompanying quays are 'locks' and 'keys' - big pools of water perceived as locks that secure a door ..... of the mystery, of life and its giver - the goddess - and who holds the key? The Lady In The Lake.
Nearby is the good trout-fishing lake known as St John's Loch - it's quite incredible really, when you think-about-it. St John's Hospital was the very first sacred-place we came upon when we set-out from St Augustine's Abbey, back there in Canterbury. And all-the-way up-here on the final-reaches of the mainland-section of the Cancerian alignment(s), here he is mentioned again. And where the hospital in Canterbury had a healing-well with St John's-name on-it, here there's a whole-lake.
Giz-a-kiss darlin'.... the village called Keiss seems to be saying - or perhaps it's not kiss but case? Y'know, boxes and chests and now a case? Punning-aside though, I looked in the dictionary, and there are two Anglo Saxon words that fit the case - 'ceac' and 'ceace.'
The first of them 'ceac' is a basin, pitcher, jug, kettle and cauldron. The second - 'ceace,' is a cake - very domesticated, cakes and utensils.
Any-road, Keiss has a nice old defensive structure standing on the sheer-cliffs overlooking Sinclairs Bay, but it's fallen into ruin now - Keiss Castle - this then, is the Castle of the Grail, oo-er.
The fishing-village of Keiss sits right in the bay called Sinclairs - this, surely, means Saint Clair's Bay? I went back to the dictionary again - 'sin' means two things in the olde tongue - 'sin' is his, her, its', their, and it also means - when used as a prefix as-in Sinclair - perpetual, permanent, lasting, infinite and immense. The 'name' part of it - 'Clair,' actually means clear in the olde tongue - when you factor-in the fact that Sinclair's Bay resides in the forehead region of the goddess - here named Clair - we can get an idea about the 'quality' of thought characteristic to her persona.
Along the coast a little way and also in that god's-head is the seaside town called Reiss, and though at-first I thought this was a play on 'ross' meaning rose - which it probably is, what-with rose being a woman's-name - I soon found, when I looked in the book, that 'reiss' is of 'raeswan' (silent 'w') and that's to think, consider, conjecture. It also has an element of speed, as 'raes' is race, rush, jump and hasten.
Watten stands-out because it looks very-much like an English place-name, to me. In Anglo Saxon 'watten' is 'witan,' look, behold, see. impute or ascribe-to, to be aware of or conscious of, know, understand, observe, perceive - 'witan' also has certain worrisome aspects - it also means to hold a grudge against; fear, to dislike, accuse, reproach, blame; to cause to know, to inform; depart, go, go-out and to die.
A military camp was built during WW2 and this became POW Camp 165. It was called Britain's 'most secretive' camp - many prominent Nazis were incarcerated there...
.... including the Wolf of the Atlantic Otto Kretschmer, leading U Boat captain.
Before dashing-off from Watten and its Loch Watten (after which the village was named), I ought mention a thing-or-two about the Moon, and its ancient usage, or function. The Moon, y'see, was the main means of telling the time - not the hour-by-hour time but the month-by-month, week-by-week time. The word month is derived from the word Moon. When you're in jail (not that I'd know anything about it...) the sentence and the passage of time are still measured-by and referred-to as Moons.
One con' says to the other con': how many Moons are you doin'? The reply comes: eighteen (or whatever) Moons, meaning X Months.
Anyway, I mentioned the old-thing about time-keeping 'cos Alexander Baird was born in Watten - he was that bloke that invented the pendulum-regulated electric-clock; a brainy sort of fella, he also invented the FAX machine.
Canisbay is close-by - wolves and dogs are subspecies of Canis Lupus. When we ally the two words in the place-name we get a wolf at bay.
We have to leave the mainland in a moment and follow the cone-of-influence out-there, into the wider-world. But before we do, we'd best take a look at John 'o Groats, seeing-as it's on the direct bead of the alignment or cusp-line from St Augustine's Abbey, in ye olde Canterbury.
John 'o Groats House
John o' Groats attracts large numbers of tourists from all across the world all year round. There ain't much there though and not everyone likes-the-place - in 2005 Lonely Planet described the village as a seedy tourist trap and in 2010 the village got a Carbuncle Award for being Scotland's most dismal town.
Be that as-it-may John o' Groats has particular resonance to the Brit's because it is used as a start or end-point for cyclists and walkers to and from Lands End.
The 'great-triangle' after which I believe England (Angleterre) and the English (Angles) were really-named, has its 3 terminals at John o' Groats, Lizard-Point and Canterbury - all three being ancient places of 'pilgimage.' The numbers-thing is kinda neat:
The alignment from St Augustine's Abbey to John o' Groats is 535 miles in length, whilst the base-line from the Abbey to Lizard-Point is 292 miles. To find the area inside the right-angled triangle which forms when we connect these points, we multiply these two figures together and the result is the area of a rectangle (figure 1, right-above). By dividing this figure in two we find the area enclosed by the triangle - and it's 78,110 square-miles (figure 2, right, below). Interestingly, when we add these digits together, 7+8+11, we get the 'octagonal' result of 2 x 13 or 26; & 2+6 = 8. That's mind-blowing! Because of that eight-sided-house built by the eponymous 'John' of Groats.
John o' Groats was named after Jan de Groot a Dutch ferryboat owner that ran ferries from this pointy-tip of the triangle to the Orkneys. Jan and his family lived at John o' Groat's House which:
was an ancient house believed to be situated in front of the present hotel and was mark with a flagpole now removed, deriving its name from John of Groat, or Groot, and his brothers, originally from Holland, said to have settled here about 1489. The house was of an octagon shape, being one room, with eight windows and eight doors, to admit eight members of the family; the heads of different branches of it, to prevent their quarrels for precedence at table. Each came in by this contrivance at his own door, and sat at an octagon table, at which, of course, there was no chief place or head.
Haydn's Dictionary of Dates.
So what is-it with the old-octagon then? Well... it's the first step of a square towards becoming a circle - the octagon is used as the foundation for most domes, being the ideal-sided support for a circular top.
Buddhists believe that eight implies completion and the Chinese believe that eight means 'whole' - eight is the basis for the I-Ching's hexagrams, of which there are 8 x 8 - 64 in total. For Christians eight is the number of regeneration and rebirth; Islam believes that eight angels hold the reins of heaven and earth; the Japanese believe that eight is the number of plenty and abundance; on the ritual-wheel there are eight 'stations,' and there are eight-directions in space.
time & space
So here at the northward-point - the apex of a gigantic right-angled triangle - we find this encoded-reference to the number that relates-to spatial-direction, the eight-stationed calendar of the turning-seasons - that's time and space in a nutshell, and time and space are the box that we embodied entities live within - that box is the womb of the goddess.
And there's other digits prominently signalling from the triangle's measurements, numbers relating specifically to la lune. If we look at the length of this northward thrusting Cancerian line at 535 miles, and add the digits we get 5+3+5 = 13; leaving the calculation at that stage and measuring the base-line of Libra at 292 miles and adding the digits: 2+9+2 = 13; doing likewise and measuring the diagonal line connecting the points at 607 miles: 6+0+7 = 13. What are the chances of that, eh? All three sides of this 3-nation enclosing and defining triangle resonate to the occult number of the Moon, 13.
The moon moves 13 degrees around the earth every day. It takes 13 days to change from Full Moon to New Moon and 13 days to change back with 1 day Full and 1 day New to equal 28 days of the Lunar Cycle. In ancient cultures, the number 13 represented femininity, because it corresponds to the number of lunar (menstrual) cycles in a year (13 x 28 = 364 days).
the 4th sign
From the numerological perspective, in the 13 we must note the presence of the 3 - the symbolic meaning of 3 is vast and powerful. It deals with creation, completion, order, advancement and mystery.
We then have-to notice the number 1, which precedes the number 3. This amplifies the pre-existing symbolic meaning of the number 1: beginnings, initiation, solidarity, unity and birth.
These individual numbers, when put together in the 13 tell the story of a nation and a path that was and always is just beginning (number 1), that would lead and eternally leads to the expression of the union of opposites (number 3). Of course, 13 breaks down into 4 as 1+3 = 4. The sign of the crab is the 4th sign of the zodiac.....
4 lends a grounding effect to the highly-pitched energy of 13. The energy of number 4 brings the 13 down to a level where we can rationalize it more clearly. The reduction to 4 is a message that at its core, the 13 is a means-to-an-end and will always return to the calm root or source which is its and, ultimately, our cosmic home.
In the deeper perspective, 13 is considered the fulfillment or manifestation of the number 3. 13 is a prime number and is only divisible by itself. This is symbolic of incorruptible nature, purity and integrity.
These are the Isles Of The Blessed indeed.
We've covered quite-a-few places on the mainland (by no-means all-of-them) but the cone of the crab continues-on, keeps-on shining that beam of Moonlight 'out-there' into the big-wide-World.
Here's an image-or-two I've knocked-up to show you the extent of-it.
As you can see, the direct north-pointing line of alignment glances-off the Orkney Isles and includes Iceland and a large-part of Greenland before passing right-through the wandering-path of the magnetic-north-pole (marked-in-red-arrows). I went-to-the-bother of drawing it-in to demonstrate to the doubters that I'm not making ANYTHING up, as accused - this Cancerian alignment that passes through my home-town IS magnetically-charged as I allege. The lines-of-magnetic-force DO pass down the alignment.
Right, I've got that off-my-chest. The cone includes the Orkneys, Isle of Man and all of the Western Isles.... better have a look.
If Perth represents an eye and Cupar sits on a goddess' nose, as I accuse, then Bridget of Britain faces towards the east... meaning that the Western Isles or The Hebrides represent - are - the Great Mother's hair. You've heard-of Medusa? Well - she's got nothing on our goddess - there's even a wolf in her hair!
We'll take-a-butchers at the wolf a little-later - lets start with a little-island that has a woman's name - Iona - a mile off-shore from Mull - the experts say that Iona is derived-from a Gaelic/Celtic name, Ì nam ban bòidheach, which means - they-say - the isle of beautiful women.
In Medieval times the English wrote the island's-name Icolmkill (and variants). I dismantled that to see what I could see.... 'ic' - 'olm' - 'kill.'
The prefix 'ic' has several related meanings - the 'c' is silent and it is a self-identifier, it is I, as-in me. With an equally silent 'g' in-the-mix - 'icg,' it relates to gold, specifically treasure-gold. With a slight alteration (a common-practice) it becomes 'iec,' an abbreviated 'ieccan,' and this is to increase, augment, prolong, fulfil and carry-out.
The middle-syllable 'olm' qualifies this further, for this is 'alan,' to nourish, produce.... a picture begins to form.
I'm aware that the experts insist that 'kill,' stuck-on the-end of the old place-name, is an old Gaelic word for a church. Maybe it is..... but right here, on Iona, I'm having none of that, even if it DID have a notable church. For me 'kill' is 'cild,' child, because, taken-in-context with all-the-other Mother and Child oriented place-names we've discovered in this particular cone-shaped segment of Great Britain, 'cild' child makes utter, perfect sense. She's wearing gold in her hair or on her head and treating-it in order to augment, nourish and prolong its life. And of-course, it's her-job or duty to do-the-same for her children, ain't it.
In the year 563, Columba came to Iona from Ireland with twelve companions, and founded a monastery. Columba and his boys definitely associated the little isle with women -
Wikipedia: Murray (1966) claims that the "ancient" Gaelic name was Innis nan Druinich (the isle of Druidic hermits") and repeats a Gaelic story that as Columba's coracle first drew close to the island one of his companions cried out "Chì mi i" meaning "I see her" and that Columba's response was "Henceforth we shall call her Ì"
That Saint John gets his nook in again - the monks did a bit-of-doodling in their spare-time and did a nice picture-book called the Book-Of-Kells ('kell' = cell, 'cell' = womb, tomb, chest) The page I've copied-and-pasted hereabouts, is the opening-page of the Gospel Of St John in the book - nice, innit.....
Many kings were crowned and also buried on the Isle-of-beautiful-women. In 1549 an inventory of 48 Scottish, 8 Norwegian and 4 Irish kings was recorded.
Next to the chest-field is what is known-as the street-of-the-dead, a medieval paved road which went-from the landing-stage to the abbey - they called-it the street-of-the-dead because it was the route taken by the chests, brought from the mainland to be buried on this isle-of-beautiful-women. Near the remaining small-sections that have survived, are several ancient crosses dating from the 8th century, among-them Saint John’s Cross.
If you cast your mind back to the opening paragraphs of this wondrous-tome I mentioned that the Babylonian name for this sign Cancer was Mul. Al. Lul. the crayfish. I have this crazy-idea, y'see... about the name of the mile-distant island called Mull.
I know - I'm nuts. I must-be. I mean - how-on-earth could a Babylonian constellation-name possibly wind-up here? I must-be wrong.
Be-that-as-it-may, I went to the dictionary, as per usual (strictly non-orthodox stylee), to see what the ancients would have made-of such-a-name - and found that 'mul' was a mule. Hmm.... finding the meaning of mule in a relevant-way was a little.. er, wossisname.... and then I saw that the name of the little island (ringed) 'ulver,' means wolf - the experts say it means wolf-island. So we have a mule and a wolf.....
Then I remembered that 'mull' is the word for sticking a hot-poker into an alcoholic-drink... could-it have anything to-do with-that? I went-to Etymonline.com and found:
"sweeten, spice and heat a drink," c.1600, of unknown origin, perhaps from Du. mol, a kind of white, sweet beer, or from Flem. molle a kind of beer, and related to words for "to soften."
....to soften.... to make any-sense of this, all we have-to-do is remember where these islands are - this is the mane or flowing-hair of our goddess in the landscape - rinsing the hair with beer is and was a method of softening-hair - an old alchemist's-trick, works-like-magic!
Alchemy is still practiced on Mull - there's a whisky distillery here, as there are all over the land of the Scots. I've made another little map showing just how-many there are.
The magical-art of distilling whisky was in the hands of monks and friars from the very beginning - distilling on a fairly-large-scale was well-established by the 15th-century, when whisky was called 'Aqua Vitae,' or Water-of-Life. It was first taxed in 1644 leading to all-kinds of shennanigans to avoid paying - by 1780, there were 8 tax-paying legal distilleries and 400 non-paying illegal ones.
It must-have-been an alchemist wot-did-it - who-else would have been mucking-about with his food like-that? He got a load-of-barley and soaked it. The he leaves-it all wet until the grains-of-barley started to germinate, then he set-fire to a pile-of-peat and let the heat and smoke pass-through the wet grain until it was all dried-out - lord-only-knows what that alchemist thought he was up-to - 'cos when it was dry he mashed it all into flour - and then he heated-up some water in a big cauldron and soaked the bloody-lot in the tub, then he walks-off and had a cup-a-tea.
When he's good and ready, he lets the fire go-out and the mess in the cauldron cools-down, and he bungs some living-organisms called yeast, into the stew, and goes and has a kip.
It goes all-frothy after a while and when he sniffs-it and it smells 'right,' he pours the whole chalice-full through some cunning-filters he'd devised, and gets all of the muck-out - he don't throw the-muck away neither.
And now he gets all-clever - he sticks a lid on the top of the chalice with a tube coming out of-it, and then he lights a nice-fire underneath. The soup boils and the steam goes-up-the-tube - he sticks the other-end of the tube into another cauldron and this nice, clean-looking but brown 'water' trickles-out of the tube and fills-up the pot. Then he pours that liquid back into the other cauldron and lights that fire-again. The liquid trickles out of the tube and into the cauldron again, and this time he pours the resulting 'water' into big wooden barrels (he made them previously) and leaves it there for bloody-years. Nowadays it has to mature in the barrell for three-years before they're allowed to call-it Scotch Whisky - but generally-speaking it remains in the barrell for about eight-years. The whisky loses a small amount of alcohol-content each-year through evaporation through the barrell, and they call-this the Angel's-Share.
You have to ask yourself - why? How did that first alchemist know it would result in something drinkable? That's what amazes me about alchemic processes, and alchemy, and alchemists. Y'see.... I don't - can't believe it was trial-and-error, as orthodoxy would have-it. Somehow the first-person that made Aqua-Vitae knew what the results of their science would-be - in-advance.
Lismore is the small island slightly to-the north-east - a notably very-fertile island. The Gaelic name, lios mòr, means, say the experts, 'great garden' or 'great-enclosure,' which they think is an entirely topographically-based place-name - you-and-me know that enclosures are chests, wombs, houses, etc, etc, and fit into a pattern that we first saw back-there in Chestfield (chest' + 'field' the fallen) and Clowes Woods ('cluse' a closet, cell, enclosure) at the start of this investigation, in Kent., so we know that the name isn't entirely topographic. Though, in the topographic-sense, a 'great-garden' denotes a place to grow-food, and that's the island of Lismore AND Cancer the crab all-over - the island is and has always-been blessed with fertile soil and an abundance of trees and shrubs.
For me, with my mind addled and dazzled by all the goddesses around here, I can't help but think that the island's name is 'just-another' woman's name - Liz Moore - probably a very fertile lass, judging by the island's lushness. I looked at-it in the Anglo Saxon style, and found she must have been a very-cute chick, as 'liss' is grace, favour, love, kindness, mercy. joy, peace, rest, remission, forgiveness, saving (of-life).
The suffix 'more' is usually taken to mean a high-place - a moor - and that doesn't fit with the actual topography of the island - it's low-lying - NOT a moor by any-means. So, in this case I think it has-to mean more - as-in bigger, greater, extra. In which-case the island's name means something-like more-bliss, more-love, etc, etc.
To the holy-men and women in the days-of-yore this seemed like a good-place to dwell, and they built a couple of monasteries here that were very-famous in their day.
That ruined-old-castle in the picture is very picturesque.... but it attracted my attention purely because of it's name - Coeffin Castle - in plainer English (if that were possible) that translates (in my mind) to Coffin Castle - in Anglo Saxon 'cofa' is a closet, chamber, ark, cave, and 'cofincel' is a small-chamber.
Just off the south-western coast is a little rock - totally submerged twice-a-day - called Ladies Rock - there's a lighthouse standing on-it.
It's called Ladies Rock because of the nefarious-deed of Lachlan Maclean. One-night he rowed his missus, Cathy, out to the rock and just leaves-her-there. The rotten-git looks-out of his window at Duart Castle the next morning, and sees that his dastardly plan had succeeded - the rock was devoid of life, his wife was gone.
Satisfied with the nights-work, he sends a message to her brother, the Duke of Argyll, in Inverary Castle, saying 'woe-is-me, the missus is dead,(sob), later-on, grief-stricked me and the boys are gonna bring her to your big-pile in Inverary and bury her.... boo hoo hoo etc, etc.
Then the silly-twat lobs a few boulders in the coffin and off he-goes with his entourage and the coffin to her brothers castle - when he gets-there he's escorted to the dining-hall for a spot-o-din-dins, and who's sitting there all rosy-cheeked, smiling and not very dead at-all, but his old-lady! Ha! I'll bet that that really screwed-him-up. So, believe-it-or-not, nothing-is-said of the matter, and they scoff their grub, all pleasant(ish) and wot-not, tra la la.... 'lovely fish, Duke...'
It turns-out some humble fishing-folk had just happened to be rowing their fishing-boat past the rock when they spotted-her, marooned on the rock, to die.... needless to say then, that they rescued her from the terrible-fate her old-man had planned - 'ere bonny-lassie, you want-a-lift?' they called-out to her.....
'Not 'arf darlin,' (or something similar) says she, leaping in the boat, chuffed as a thingy-me-jig.
''ee, steady-on luv,' they say, rowing for the shore, 'we don't want to tip-o'er and get thee all wet.'
Back at the castle, the shyster-Maclean was able-to to spirit-himself-away (some-say they let-him-go) after his hearty-meal with his somewhat un-dead-wife and her (very-powerful) big-brother - imagine the atmosphere at that dinner-table.
Lady Catherine's family let-it-lie and left-it alone for a while - allowed the bad-assed-mutha to 'forget' the incident, let the 'heat' die-down - and then her other brother, Sir John, got-him as he kipped in his bed in Edinburgh.
From the dark-story of Ladies Rock, across the waters to the Dark-Island of Coll....
.... which has a bit-of-a dark history of-its-own..... a battle was fought at Breachacha Castle where the Coll clan overwhelmed the Duarts, chopped off their heads and threw them in the stream, which is still known as the stream of the heads.... severed-heads, eh? 'Breach,' the prefix in castle 'breach-acha,' is the upside-down delivery of a baby - this word is directly from the Anglo Saxon word 'brec,' which connotes to burst, tear, injure, curtail, violate, destroy, break-into, rush-into, storm, capture (city), burst-forth, spring-out, subdue and tame. The suffix 'acha' makes the castles-name even-more 'unfortunate' or 'ill-starred,' for 'acha' is to ache and suffer-pain... like-wow. This castle's name seems-to-be making distinct reference to the suffering and pain that child-birth can bring to both mother and baby.
Coll has the 'official' status of Dark Isle due to the fact that there's no street-lights on the island and at night the place goes very, very dark indeed - so dark that you can actually see the stars - something most of Britain cannot do. Obviously then astronomers both amateur and professional quite-like coming to Coll with their star-gazing instruments, charts, flasks-of-tea, sandwiches etc, etc. to camp-out in the moors and heaths and spend the night gawping-up into the 'blac' - meaning glittering, shining, twinkling etc, to our forefathers and mothers, you recall?
There are several lochs on Coll and on them are several crannogs. These are man-made islands built or constructed in lochs, where ancient-mankind chose to live - the experts reckon that crannogs were built for purely defensive reasons - maybe that's true of some-of-them but for me, crannogs are evidence of their reverence for, and desire to be near lakes, rivers and springs - there was vastly more to-it than practical-considerations.
They knew that the goddess was to be found where there was water - so they lived as near to water as possible... at night the surface of the loch, a calm reflective-mirror, becomes a sea-of-stars and the shaman, alchemist, witch, perched high above the water, becomes an astronaut, a god, a star.
The experts have had a bit of a job sussing-out where the word 'crannog' stems-from. I found it quite easily, myself - I just looked (doh!) in the Anglo Saxon Dictionary where I found that the prefix 'cran' is one-of-those long-legged birds that also like to stand in water - the crane.
The island's-name-too, Coll, in the olde-tongue, accords very-well with the nature-of-the-crane, and the 'nature' (character) of the island's nature (environment)... 'coll' means cool, calm, tranquil,,,, which, I have-to-say, reflects also the nature of the Great-Mother and the Moon.... cool, calm and tranquil.
When you juxtapose the meaning of the castle's name, Breachacha, with the meaning of the islands name, Coll, we seem-to be receiving a message from the ancients - though I'm not sure exactly what that message is. Perhaps (pure-speculation here) the crannogs were birth-platforms? Special-places where a maid would go to give-birth...? Calm, tranquil.... and near the goddess..... just a thought.
Heading across the water in a southerly-direction there's a load of islands to look-at - our goddess has a lot of ornaments in her flowing-lochs - I mean locks (of-hair).... ornaments like Scarba, for-instance. According to the dictionary 'scara,' without the 'b,' is a pair-of-scissors, shears.
I've nothing further-to-add, really... except that Scarba is the little-companion of the much-larger island called Jura.
The experts reckon the island's name is based on the unpronouncable Norse-word for deer - Dyrøy.
Personally, I think that it's actually based-on an olde Anglo Saxon word, equally unpronounceable, a word meaning female attendant, assistant, youth, follower, a word that at-least bears some resemblance to the modern rendition of Jura - that word is 'geongra' - before anyone tells-me that that's nonsense allow-me to demonstrate how they wrote the word youth, it gives you an idea..... 'geouth.' See what I mean? An Anglo Saxon equivalent of 'jura' would look more-like 'geora,'
I rest my case - even though the island does have more deer on-it than people - the ancients were always speaking of three-worlds when they were giving-names to places - of that there is no-doubt - the same is probably-true for when they were giving-names to people, too.
Y'see, if the ancient place-namers really-were intending to associate this island in the goddesses hair in-any-way with the four-legged, rutting animal the deer - then it would only-be because deer-antlers were anciently and traditionally employed as hair-accessories.... and, as we discussed at Derby, deer and darlings were synonymous ideas... back-then, mention deer and you've mentioned the girls, the darlings, the wives, girlfriends, sisters, daughters and their mothers.
And of-course, there's sympathetic-magic going-on here too - antlers and heads and defending-one's-territory are inseparable-ideas, ain't they?
Other inseparable-ideas are paps and females, huh? Particularly mothers... and there's a range-of-mountains on the island that never-fail to put everyone who-sees-them in-mind of breasts - they're known-as The Paps for reasons that no-one with an ounce of Christian virtue can work-out..... 'don't look Ethel.' Hide your eyes if-you-will - you can't avoid them, they dominate the landscape for many-miles-around and can be seen from the Isle of Skye and on a really-clear-day, Northern Ireland.
The spirit-minded people of Jura were legally-entitled to make and consume their-own whisky in their own cottages, until the Laird got-the-hump about something (probably the lack of taxes) and introduced a ban in 1781. This made the alchemists quite-sad, so they had-a-word with the old-lady.....
Then one-night as the Laird slept in his bed, he was awoken by the apparition of an old woman hovering-over his bed - she had a right-go at him about banning the Aqua Vitae before fading-away in the gloom.... this persuaded him to reverse the ban and he constructed a new distillery in the smugglers cave, in 1810 - the 'spirits' of-one-kind left-him-alone after that, and the People were happy in-spirit again.
The distillery makes a whisky called Prophesy - it commemorates a bit of the island's history. The Laird had evicted an old man from his house, who made an angry-prophesy about the Campbells - the Lairds clan.
The old-man told the Laird that the last Campbell to leave Jura would be one-eyed and with his possessions pulled by a (white) horse and cart. A few centuries passed and the old-man's prophecy was all but forgotten - until it came-true. One day in 1938, the Laird's descendant Charles Campbell, blinded in one eye in the Great War, had fallen on hard times and led his white horse-and-cart to the pier to leave the island for-ever.
Queen-of-Her-Brides - Yes Indeed
Islay (pronounced eye-la) is a woman's-name as-well-as an inner-Hebridean island, known to one-and-all that live around-here as the Queen-of-the-Hebrides - that's queen mind-you, not king.
They've got ten distilleries here - and three-of-them are in-places openly-named after women - Port Charlotte, Port Ellen and Caol Ila - I say openly-named because usually we have-to decipher place-names at-least a little-bit - though we don't have enough-time here to look-at all of the place-names on this island, I'm prepared to lay good-money that women and/or Cancerian elements are fair-bursting-out of them.
Any-road, Islay's name was recorded (believe-it-or-not) by Ptolemy as Epidion - Ptolemy (AD 90 – c. AD 168) was a Greek-Roman citizen of Egypt, who wrote in Greek, just to complicate things. I worked-out the meaning of Ptolemy's name for the island via various online Greek dictionaries to find that 'epi' is upon, on, at, by, before, of, position, on, at, by, over, against, to, over, on, at, across, against, whilst 'dion' is Dionysus... and that is amazingly appropriate on an island that has 10 distilleries.
For Dionysus is/was 'the god that comes' - his 'foreignness' as an arriving outsider was inherent and essential to his cults. The ancient imagery shows his triumphant, disorderly arrival or return, as if from some place beyond the borders of the known and civilized. His procession is made up of wild female followers (maenads) and bearded satyrs. He was the protector of those who do not belong to conventional-society, and symbolizes everything which is chaotic, dangerous and unexpected, everything which escapes human reason and which can only be attributed to the unforeseeable action of the gods.
He was the god of the grape harvest, wine-making and wine, of ritual madness and ecstasy. Ancient images show him as a beardless, sensuous, naked or half-naked androgynous youth: the literature describes him as womanly or man-womanish. He wears a fox-skin on his shoulders and carries a pine-cone tipped staff - sometimes wound with ivy and dripping with honey.
And Ptolemy associated The Queen-of-the-Hebrides with THAT cult.
On-the-other-hand, when we do the same with the more recent manifestation of the island's-name, Islay, we-find, after trawling through many pages of the dictionary, that the prefix 'is' = 'gis' = 'gese,' and 'gese' means yes. The final-part of Islay's name, 'lay,' translates back to how-we pronounce-it, 'la,' meaning Lo! Indeed! Verily.
How-about that? An island associated with Dionysus, later-called Yes-Indeed (the Queen of the Hebrides).
It just occurred to-me, as I wrote the word Hebrides, that it contains a familiar word - brides...could it be Her-Brides? (muse, muse) - 'cos then Islay becomes The Queen of Her Brides....
A Munroe is a Scottish mountain-or-hill that rises higher than 3000 feet, whilst a Marilyn is a hill or mountain that goes-above 492 feet. There's a whole-lot of those in Scotland, as you might-expect - they've identified 1,216 of-them..... the rash of red-spots on the map (below right) shows all-of-'em.
And of-course, they've got at-least a-pair of Marilyn's on the Queen of-the Hebrides, don-cha-know?
The Iron-Age folks on the island chose Dun Nosebridge (pictured right) as the best-peaks on-which to site their massive (4,040 sq ft) defensive-fort, commanding the surrounding landscape.
Across the waters of the Inner-Seas to the little island of Colonsay, 13-miles-long and 3-wide..... (muse, muse) 13 x 3 = 39; 3 + 9 = 14; 1 + 4 = Fife (5).....
Although Colonsay appears bare and somewhat forbidding on approach from the sea, its landscape is beautiful, and it has some of the best sandy beaches in the Hebrides, and a sheltered and fertile interior.
Roughly 110 souls live-on Colonsay and two-of-them opened a micro-brewery a couple of years back.
The prefix 'col,' we've seen before: cool, calm and tranquil, while the suffix 'onsaet,' means to sit-upon, occupy.
And it seems that occupy and sit-upon is exactly what someone did-do, as-far-back as 7000 BC - and cooked-food, on what-was-formerly the beach. Archaeologist's have discovered large-pits full-of burned hazlenut-shells - they've called it evidence of a Mesolithic Food-Industry. There were also two smaller stone-lined pits that they admit baffle-them - they weren't cooking in-them though... I can only imagine they were practicing alchemy of some-sort, though the experts of course, ever-keen to dumb the ancients-down reckon the nut-shells and burning-pits are merely evidence of subsistence-living.
About now I ought to add that the prefix 'col' of Colonsay has other, completely-opposite connotations to cool, calm and tranquil - it depends on the context, as-ever. In the right-context - such-as-now - 'col' is a live-coal
Just-off the south-western coast is the isle of Tiree.
The island is known for its unique houses - a female-thing if ever-there-was-one - 'blackhouses' and 'white houses', as-well-as its 'pudding' houses (food) where the mortar is painted white and the stones are left in their natural state.
Upon scanning the Anglo Saxon Dictionary the only remotely related word is 'Tir,' and 'Tir' = 'Tiwaz', the rune standing for the letter 'T.'
Tir or Tiwaz is named for the Norse god Tiw, after whom Tuesday is named. He was the god of war and justice, fair law and regulation, and success through sacrifice. He was courageous, fearless, the master tactician and a consummate diplomat.
He allowed a wolf to bite off his right hand in order to 'bind the wolf's chaotic force' and thus he protects warriors (both physical & spiritual), the disabled and the left-handed.
I admit that my curiosity is slightly piqued at that... y'know - we've got an island called Wolf (Ulva) and here's an island named after the figure who sacrificed his right-hand in order to tame-the-wolf. I'm even-more intrigued than-before about what-else might reveal-itself on the islands as-yet un-investigated... islands such-as Arran and Ailsa Craig, to the south...
Without-any of the-old beating-about-the-bush - as you can see from the page out-of the Anglo Saxon Dictionary (above), the place-name Arran has clearly stemmed directly-from the word 'araeran,' to bring-up, raise, create: it also has connotations of building-houses - such-as raise, create, establish, build and erect.
The orthodox actually agree with me - again! They can-only contextualise it in a topographic-sense though, believing that the name refers only to the island's high-elevation above the sea and the many mountains on the island. It does - no disagreement there - but you and me know that it also means all the other-things that also come-under the same heading of 'araeran,' as shown above - bring-up, raise, create....
The 'trouble' with the orthodox toponymists and landscape 'investigators' is that they look at places in complete-isolation, with little-or-no reference to surrounding place-names - and they poo-poo astrology, occultism and anything not-spouted from the mouths of one of 'them.' Astrology and an understanding of occultism's symbols are, as-shown-here, the real 'keys' to understanding both the ancients and what-they-were-doing with their standing-stones, ritual-practices, henges etc, etc. But 'they' grope-in-the-dark and want the lights-left-off.
They can make no-sense of anything the ancients-did, believing they were always desperate survivors on the-edge, in a harsh-environment, and that's-it. I wonder how the same experts characterize US?
Actually, I don't want to-know.
There's a local landscape-tradition sort-of-thing that tells visitors of a certain-bent (who, me?) that from the mainland coast of Ayrshire the mountains and hills on the Isles-of-Arran look-like a human-form - a warrior lying on her back with her hands across her chest - they call-it the Sleeping-Warrior - a title that sort-of suggests that the figure must-be a male-warrior - but you only have to remember that 'ornery-bird called Boudica to realise that the figure in the hills of Arran is quite gender non-specific. It's really a matter-of-perception in-the-end, and given the female-orientation of the place-names and topography we've uncovered round these-parts, it's MY perception that the Sleeping Warrior is probably a WOMAN named Errin..... so sue-me.
For my-money too, the island - seen from-above - looks-like a human-head - and there are hills all-over Arran that locals and tourists-alike marvel-at.... they look so humanoid.
An alchemic-material was mined on Arran - baryte. It was first discovered in 1840, and some 5,000 tons were mined-out, up-until 1862 when the Duke of Hamilton said that the mine had spoiled the solemn grandeur of the scene. But after WWI it was deemed worth-it and the mine was reopened, and it carried-on desecrating the environment until 1938, when the vein finally ran out.
It's a handy drop-'o-muck - mainly used as an aid to drilling deep-holes in the earth for oil and gas-rigs - it's a really heavy lubricating-element that's so-dense it even acts as a shield against radiation - the alchemists got-to-work on the stuff and nowadays it's used for all-sorts of things - which include filler in paint and plastics, sound reduction in engines, motor-vehicle finishes for smoothness and corrosion resistance, anti-friction goo for cars and trucks, radiation-shielding cement, glass ceramics and medical uses such as a barium meal before a CAT scan.
Just across the bay from Lamash in the island's eye, lies little Holy Island.
It's been occupied by holy-folks since time-immemorial - there's nought-now but archaeological remains of a monastery that was once there, full-of holy-people, and a holy-cave where a hermit spent his life in-meditation. One-of-the-main attractions to the heavenly-bent has always been the sacred-spring and holy-well on this small but undoubtedly holy-island.
Must-be something pretty-special about the place, huh?
Even today there are holy-folks there, retreating from the melee of the hub-bub to get a spot-of-peace - not to mention quiet - there's quite a lot of both those rare commodities on this holy-pimple in the sea. The Gaelic name for islands is a woman's-name: Eilean - and they named the holy-isle Eilean MoLaise - 'Molaise' being the name of that hermit, apparently - nice.
Some Tibetan Buddhists bought-the-island, and live there in a modern-environmentally-friendly-monastery, on the north-end of the island at the Centre for World Peace and Health, founded by Lama Rinpoche. Meanwhile, on the south-end of the island lives a community of nuns who stay there for three year retreats.
Ailsa Craig is a woman's-name which is spake and rendered Elsa and Elsie nowadays - but it's also an Eilean, of course. The castle which stands on the eastern side of the island was built in the late 1500s by the Hamiltons to defend the little-island from Catholic-Spain.
Hew Barclay of the Barony called Ladyland (really - it used-to-be in Ayrshire) was a Catholic involved in an anti-Protestant plot in 1592 and he got-nabbed, imprisoned in Edinburgh, but released by the gullible King in 1593, following Hew's heart-felt assurances of good-conduct. Then-he-went and got caught plotting again, and locked-up in Glasgow Castle - but the bounder escaped and legged-it to Spain where he plotted with Jesuits.
In 1597 he returned with some like-minded anti-Protestants and took possession of the island called Ailsa Craig - as a provisioning and stopping off point for a Spanish invasion in-order-to re-establish the Catholic faith in Scotland - but he was soon met with swords, and accidentally (so 'tis said) drowned himself.
The island was used as a prison during the 18th and 19th centurys... but I don't think that any alchemists have-ever found the granite, volcanic-dome of the island of much-interest.
Leaving the seabirds behind and heading off to Sanda Island off-the-tip-of theKintyre Peninsula. In the 2001 census, it was was one of four Scottish islands with a population of one-lone-person. However, since then there has been some development, and the island subsequently had a population of 3. Sanda Bird Observatory was the first bird observatory to be set up on the west coast.
You'd probably think that it must-be quite sandy on the island, given such-a-name as Sanda - but it ain't. I looked-it-up in the usual-place and found that one-of the meanings - aside-from sandy-shore, etc - is course-of-food, repast, mess, victuals.
So there-you-are - the island's-name simply spells-out the Cancerian theme - FOOD.
On the north-side of the Kintyre Penine object is the island called Gigha.
The egg-heads have debated about the meaning of the place-name for centuries - but the interpretation I like the best, I found in the Wikipedia: Czerkawaska (2006) also notes that the isle is called "Gug" in a charter of 1309 and also appears as "Gega" on some old maps and speculates that a possible pre-Norse derivation is from the Gaelic Sheela na Gig, a female fertility symbol.
It's a bit-of-a-shame that I've gotta disagree with Mr Czerkawaska - but the Anglo Saxon Dictionary forces-my-hand. The word 'gigha' derives-from 'gigoth' which stems-from 'geoguth,' - and we've seen 'geoguth' before - it means youth, young-people, junior-warriors. Juniors are symbolised and governed by the sign of the Moon, Cancer.
Gigha's Independence-Day is on 15th of March - in sister-water-sign Pisces - the residents got-together and raised £60,000 by fundraising-events, got a spot of the lottery-cash and some quids from the Scottish Heritage Fund - and bought-the-island for £4 million on March 15th 2002 - since-then the population has grown from 98 in 2000 to 150 by 2010. In 2010 the historian James Hunter stated that the transfer of ownership had brought about a spectacular reversal of Gigha's slide towards complete population collapse.
£1 million of the money was a short-term loan which the islanders paid-back by selling Achamore House (but not the gardens) to a dude from California. He now runs his flower-essences business and boat tours from the house - boats and flowers - Cancerian, goddess oriented things, eh?
Gigha Renewable Energy Ltd. has bought and operates their-own wind-turbines, known locally as The Dancing Ladies, named Faith, Hope and Charity. Gigha residents control the whole project and profits are reinvested in the community.
They reckon that Gigha has had people living here, without-break, since prehistoric-times. There's a few standing-stones dotted-about the isle - in-fact - the whole island's what you might-call an archaeologist's-paradise. There's cairns (ancient delicately-balanced piles-of-stones), duns (forts) and a standing-stone with as-yet undeciphered Ogham runes chiselled into the surface.
There's a couple-of small companion-isles - one of them, just 1/2 a mile off-shore, is the Isle-of-Cara. Cara translates into Gaelic as dearest or dear one - it's a popular girl's name in the local area and in Scotland in general.
It's not even a surprise to keep finding all these female references any-more - Eilean's are named after women, it can't be-denied.
Before we row-our-boat farther north, let's have a quick-look at that huge, male appendage-like peninsula - Kintyre as it's known - maybe it's a dreadlock....?
It's the name that gets-me, as-ever.... 'kin' is 'cynn,' in Anglo Saxon: kind, sort, rank, quality; family, generation, offspring, pedigree, kin, race, people; gender, sex; propriety, etiquette; becoming, proper and suitable. No-need for any explanations there then.
The 'tyre' part-of-the-name = 'teoru,' is tar, resin, distillation from a tree, gum, balsam....
Clearly then, as-I-suspected, Kintyre IS a great dreadlock (30 x 11-miles-thick) coated with some-kind-of hair-treatment - tar was applied to seamen's-hair to discourage lice & fleas, for example - Jack-Tar was slang meaning sea-dog, mariner etc.
It kinda-figures that old mop-top Macca (Paul Macartney) should have a farmhouse on this great bunch-of-hair on the goddesses-head, no? And then go-and-make that record what he dun, Mull-of-Kintyre all-about-it.
The main town on the peninsular is Campbelltown, named-after some Laird-or-other and not worthy of interpretation. They make a drop of Aqua Vitae around-here. At one point it had 34 distilleries and advertised itself as the whisky capital of the world - but today only three working distilleries remain.
St Kieran lived in this area before the town existed - there's a cave named after him which can be visited at low tide, as can the cave on nearby Davaar Island where there's a 19th century painting of the crucifixion.
To the north are the Little-Isles, Muck, Eigg, Rum and Canna.
Of Muck, Samuel Johnson wrote in 1773:
This little Island, however it be named, is of considerable value. It is two English miles long, and three quarters of a mile broad, and consequently contains only nine hundred and sixty English acres. It is chiefly arable. Half of this little dominion the Laird retains in his own hand, and on the other half, live one hundred and sixty persons, who pay their rent by exported corn.
Much debate and discussion has occurred regarding the name - Muck - one of the Lairds tried to get-it-changed to 'monks-island,' but that didn't come-off - Muck it stayed. I looked-it-up in the usual forbidden-tome - it would've been 'mugha' to the ancients, and that's quite simply a hill-of-corn - that's food and that's governed by the goddess Ceres (thus: cereals), Demeter to the Greeks, as-well-as the sign of the crustacean, innit. Grain is a symbol long-associated with the idea of fertility, for fairly-obvious reasons....
Eggs are both things too - food and female fertility at one-and-the-same-time - and as you may or may-not expect, eggs are nearby...
... at-one-of the other Little-Isles - the Isle-of-Eigg (pronounced egg).
The island was bought in 1997 by the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust, a partnership between the residents, Highland Council and Scottish Wildlife Trust. Alastair Mcintosh wrote a book about the People's experience - Soil and Soul: People Versus Corporate Power, published in 2001.
Eigg residents had to rely on diesel-generators and little wind-turbines on their roofs - they sorted that-out and erected three wind turbines - all sustainable an'-that - they've got solar and hydro too - which they put-in themselves. In January 2010, Eigg was one of three joint winners in NESTA's Big Green Challenge, winning a prize of £300,000; (Note: the acronym NESTA = National Endowment for Science, Technology and the Arts). Crazy innit -Eiggs and NESTAS...
There was a monastery on Eigg which is all-in-ruins now, the brothers and sisters were massacred in 617 by the local Pictish Queen - the monks and nuns left behind a stone-carving of that Sheela na Gig.... it's hard to make-out the detail now but I've pasted a pic of it, on the right.
Before rushing-off to another-one of these little-islands, I s'pose I ought-to remark that 'eig' (egg) was the Anglo Saxon word for an island. That certainly explains, nicely to my-mind, one-of-the-reasons that the ancients associated islands and women - and it must-be-said that actual sea-birds are a notable feature of all of these Hebridean islands - particularly and specifically for nesting....I LOVE synchronicity, don't you?
Rum is the largest of the Small Isles, but is inhabited by only about thirty-or-so folks, and they all live in the village of Kinloch on the east coast.
Rum is one of those drinky-pinkies that the alchemists of olde-Scotland were so engrossed with - a former owner of the island, George Bullough, changed the spelling to Rhum to try-and-avoid the obvious-association with the alcoholic beverage - he wasn't too out-of-order in doing-that though, the 'Rhum' spelling was used on a gravestone dated 1843.
However, in Anglo Saxon 'rum' means room.... a room is a cell, an enclosure, a womb, a tomb. 'Rum' also means something ample, large - this refers to a pregnant-maid and the Full-Moon.
'Rum' also refers to what the orthodox toponymists, historians and geographers would like to keep-it limited-to - a mere description of the landscape - 'rum' = spacious, open, scope and opportunity. That would suit the orthodox-nicely, of course - trouble-is they DON'T look in the same dictionary as me... ah-well.... they remain mystified.
The main range of hills on Rum are the Cuillin, a name that really gives-the-game-away - when translated into Anglo Saxon that-is - for then 'cuil' becomes 'cugol' (silent 'g') it means cap, cowl, hood - it refers to a head-covering.
There is some-more tangible evidence (poetic) that I'm right (!) about this zone of the landscape being perceived by the ancients as the hair of the goddess:-
In scores of curraghs with an army of wretches he crossed the long-haired sea.
He crossed the wave-strewn wild region,
Foam flecked, seal-filled, savage, bounding,
seething, white-tipped, pleasing, doleful...
The-above poem was written-about St Columba coming to the Hebrides in a coracle (nutter), by a monk (later sainted) called Beccan, who lived somewhere on Rum - most-likely a cave, an entrance to the dark-womb of the Great-Mother.
... the long haired sea, eh? Says it-all, dunnit.
Rum is designated as a Nature-Reserve, a biosphere Reserve and SSSI and there are 17 ancient-sites scheduled as nationally-important monuments.
The fourth of the Little Isles is called Canna - it cannae be referencing the old canine breed, can it..?.. nah - well, maybe not... actually 'canne' is a can or cup - that'll be a chalice or grail, wunnit?
When you put it all-together this amounts-to a picnic-hamper - in these four Little Isles we've discovered a heap-of-corn (Muck); an egg (Eigg), some rum (Rum) and now this little-isle is a cauldron or cup - and we even had some hot-coals on Colonsay... and that monk, St Beccan, is, like Thomas Becket, named (in English) baker.
There's a granite-stack by the shore that those in-the-know reckon used-to have a prehistoric 'dun' or castle right-up-there on the top. That gave some Laird-or-other an idea.... if I stick Matilda up-there on-the-top that'll put-paid to her wily-ways.....
In 1772 Thomas Pennant described the prison tower - a lofty slender rock, that juts into the sea: on one side is a little tower, at a vast height above us, accessible by a narrow and horrible path: it seems so small as scarce to be able to contain half a dozen people. Tradition says, that it was built by some jealous regulus, to confine a handsome wife in.
The Laird's handsome-wife sneaking-in to the narrative suggests that the island has ancient associations with the female-of-the-species. There's what-the-experts-call a 'cashel' or stone-ring-fort (pictured), that they call Sgorr nam Ban-naomha, a Gaelic-name that means the grassy-slope of the holy-women.... hardly a 'fort' - judging-by that-name - nor local-lore. Backj-in the 19th century the locals used-to tell everyone in-ear-shot that the 'fort' once-had a healing-spring and that nuns used-to live there. Dunno-about-you, but that doesn't sound like a 'fort' to me.
On the 18th April 1746 'King George's men' went 'hunting the Canna women,' who had to hide from them in the caves and under the cliffs - a pregnant maid was chased by 12 of the sods - and dropped-dead.
There's only one so-called 'cursing-stone' ever been found in Scotland - and guess-where that was? It was here, weren't-it, Canna - cursing-stones are found much-more often in Ireland. It's a 'special' stone with a natural-cup in the surface.- rainwater was allowed-to collect in the cup where it would absorb healing-power from the stone - this was then used in healing-rituals.
On the matter of 'special' stones with special 'powers,' the north-coast is demarked by high cliffs - at the east end is Compass Hill, a huge magnetic rock that's strong enough to cause compass deviations on passing ships. At the other end of the cliffs the remains of several ancient-forts stand sentinel, defending the isle.
Who's afraid of the Big-Bad-Wolf? I ask-that because we've seen repeated references to the wolf in this Cancerian-zone - and finally, heeere's the beast - the Isle of Skye!
I have-to-admit that I didn't really expect to find a fox, dog or wolf in the goddesses hair... but there-you-go, and there it is - the Isle of Skye... d'ya see the outline?
No-one's got any-idea what the name means nor where it stems-from. The Ravena Cosmology refers to Scitis, and Scetis can be found on a map by Ptolemy - so I'll use that name - Scitis....
I had-a-butchers-hook in the Anglo Saxon bookee-wookie, and found 'scyte,' 'scytan' and 'sceotan,' variously meaning shoot, hurl-missiles, strike, hit... sounds a bit like defensive-moves to me.... like go-away hell-hound, sort-of-thing - the closely-related word - minus the 't' - is 'sceo' a cloud - (muse, wow!). Now we have the Skye and a cloud.
The creature-in-the coastline of Skye, is a series of peninsulas and bays radiating out from a centre dominated by the Cuillin Hills which, as we've seen previously, is a hood, cap, bonnet - wolf and fox-pelts make excellent hats, huh? To keep the goddesses head snug-and-warm. This fox or wolf (hat) has all of it's teeth too.... as you can see from the photo of one-of-the Cuillins the almost-unclimbable Bastier Tooth, baring-its-fangs.....
The oldest and only continuously-occupied castle in Scotland is on Skye, the clan Macleod has been at Dunvegan for 800-odd years... hmm... Macleod is pronounced Ma-Cloud in English (muse, muse) , and one-of the meanings of Skye is cloud..... and sky + clouds is a good reason to wear a 'cuillin' (hat), innit...?
There are Iron Age bits-and-bobs (ruins) all over Skye - the location-of-one-of-them - a fort - is on a diamond-shaped peninsula (marked on the map) whose name hints-at what kind-of hair-style the goddess has underneath her bonnet - it's straight. I know this because the peninsula is called the Strathaird Peninsula (straight-haired) - it certainly seems to be saying-so, don't you think?
Of-course, the straight-hair could just-as-well be the animal's-pelt, couldn't-it. The wolf has a tail too, as you'd expect - the two little islands of Rona (a woman's-name) and Raasay (Rosey... also a woman's-name) make-up the 'spine' of that bushy-tail.
Of the tip-of-the-tail, Rona, early-18th century traveller Martin Martin wrote that this little isle is the most unequal rocky piece of ground to be seen anywhere: there is but very few acres fit for digging, the whole is covered with long heath, erica-baccifera, mertillus, and some mixture of grass; it is reckoned very fruitful in pasturage: most of the rocks consist of the hectic stone, and a considerable part of them is of a red colour
.... a red-colour, eh? I'm definitely thinking of foxes-now. Red-foxes are noted for their tails, which they hold-up in the air before they cross-water, keeping-the-tip out-of-the-water, and dry.
People have lived on Rona in the dim, dark-past - mostly holy-folks like monks, nuns and hermits. There's the 14th century ruins of a hermits-cell to prove-it, and inside the cell is the one-and-only gravestone on the island - I don't think anyone-knows whose grave it-is/was. Spiritually-minded types aren't the only-ones who liked the isolation on Rona - she was used as a hide-out for pirates in the 16th century.
I went-to the Anglo Saxon Dictionary to see what they would have made of such a place-name. The nearest I could-get to 'r-o-n-a' was 'r-y-n-e,' meaning running, onward-course, flux, flow (water, blood) - it is also a rune, mystery, dark-saying.
In-between Rona and Raasay - about a mile - is a little tidal-island called Eilean Tigh - even this little tail-hair used-to-have people living on it. They say the name means House Island in Gaelic.... houses are Cancerian, so I've no-issues with that.
But what it really means though I'll leave-to-your decision - the various meanings are ALL perfectly Cancerian: 'tigel' is an earthen-vessel, crock, pot, potsherd; 'tigel' is also tile, brick, slabs-for-roofing,
How very, very bizarre it-is, that the Gaelic meaning of House Island should agree with the Anglo Saxon brick, tile etc, don't you think?
The base-of-the-tail is the Isle-of-Raasay - the experts say the name means 'Isle of the Roe Deer.' Hmm.... roe-deer and wolves.... sounds-like a dogs-dinner.
I looked in the book - in Anglo Saxon the prefix 'ra' is what they said it was: roe-deer, roe-buck. I DO wonder - how-is-it possible this place-name makes sense 'up-here' in Scotland in what was a thoroughly foreign tongue - the Anglo Saxons CAN'T have been the one's to have named this island - THIS was NOT part of their Kingdom, according to the experts. Is History wrong? Was there once a culture in the land of Britain that spoke the same tongue from one-end of the country to the other? How is it that I can make sense of Gaelic place-names in Anglo Saxon?
Any-road, after trawling through the 'raas' part of the dictionary I found 'raes,' rush, leap, jump, storm, attack - 'raes' is the origin of the modern term raze to the ground. As I said above, Dinner Time Mr Wolf.
Martin Martin visited towards the end of the 17th century and noted:
(...) it has some wood on all the quarters of it, the whole is fitter for pasturage than cultivation, the ground being generally very unequal, but very well watered with rivulets and springs. There is a spring running down the face of a high rock on the east side of the isle; it petrifies into a white substance, of which very fine lime is made, and there is a great quantity of it. (.... )
There are some forts in this isle, the highest is in the south end; it is a natural strength, and in form like the crown of a hat; it is called Dun-Cann,
That would be the fort of the chalice/cup/cauldron, I do believe - and it's formed like the crown-of-a-hat.... (in the long-haired-sea), in the Hebrides... and just before we go and see the last-of-them, Lewis, Harris, Bernaray and Baleshare, it's about-time we figured-out what that word(s) 'Hebrides' actually means.
So as usual I looked-in the olde-book to see: the prefix 'heb' is of 'hebba,' and that is heave, raise, raise-up, exalted etc, etc. 'Rides' is what it looks-like - rides, rider, horseman/woman etc. etc. These isles then ride-high with power......
This wolf that is the Isle-of-Skye seems-to-be chasing-after that great crocodile-like group-of-Hebrides-isles - Lewis (Louise?) Harris (Harriet?) Taransay (Tara) and Bernaray (Bernice?).
It's difficult to trace what the islands were-called in ancient-times - every egg-head worth his/her salary says that Lewis is derived-from the Celtic name Leòdhas - which means song-house, according to the same experts. Well - as you'll understand - I have no problem with that - houses and even singing fit the established-pattern, perfectly - I'm thinking of howling-wolves in this instance (don't ask me why).
But you-know-me - I went and looked in the Anglo Saxon Dictionary (silly-me) - and found, to my surprise, that we're in agreement! Me and the experts! Again!!
According to the olde-tongue though, they (the People) have/had been singing too-hard for their own good. As you can see from the page, 'leod' is the People and 'has' means hoarse! What a mad, mad world this is, huh? The Song-House and the Hoarse People - only trouble is, though, someone's gonna have-to rewrite History. Oh-well.....
Harris - of Harris Tweed fame - is considered a separate isle, even-though it's attached quite firmly to Lewis...
Harris is probably (they-say) the 'island' referred to as Adru on Ptolemy's map... though I can't be certain, but if that's-so then it must-be his version of the Anglo Saxon word 'aedre,' meaning variously artery, vein, pulse, nerve, sinew, kidneys; runlet-of-water, fountain, spring, stream. An alternative origin is the Norse 'haerri,' meaning higher. Hmm.... sort-of appropriate but to get a little more certainty, I-did with Harris what I-did-with Lewis and looked at the Scots-Gaelic rendition of the name, Na Hearadh (but in Anglo Saxon of-course). 'Na' is no, never, not-at-all, by-no-means etc, etc. The suffix 'hearad[th]' would translate as 'heard,' hard, severe, stern, cruel (of things & people), It would seem-to be saying that Harris is not-harsh, severe or cruel - like Mona whom is kind, gracious and loving.
And that's also true of the Hebridean climate, as all these little-islands bathe in the relatively-warm waters of the Gulf-Stream. The stone-circle at Callanish on Lewis (which we'll come-back-to in a minute or two) spells-out the same message - 'call' and 'calla' means cold, and 'nish' is is-not - Is Not Cold.
But before we go to Not-Cold Callanish, let's have a quick look-at the other olde-names around here.
To the south is the uninhabited (since 1974) little island called Taransay, a name which is another-reference to hair-dressing I believe - 'tara' is 'teoru' in Anglo Saxon, and 'teoru' is tar, bitumen, tree-resin, gum, which we saw earlier on Kintyre, you'll no-doubt remember well? The 'say' part of the name would be (pronounced the same as 'say') would-be 'sat,' rope, cord, bond.... tar on the hair and a pony-tail, I guess.
Berneray - the experts reckon that Berneray is old Norse for Bjorn's Island.... however, in Anglo Saxon the prefix 'ber' is writ 'baer,' naked, 'bare,' uncovered and unclothed. The following syllables 'neray' would be of 'nerian,' I think, and that's protect, preserve and defend, and that's what gracious-mother's do for their children, who are usually born-naked in a bed. But that's also what tar and hats do for your hair, huh?
Prince Charles visited the island and tried to live as normal a life as he could - he became a crofter in 1987, and lived and worked with a crofter for a week.
It took a few head-scratching moments to work-out the intended meaning of the farther-south isle of Baleshare, mostly-because 'bal' = 'beal,' and 'beal' is a prefix on words such-as 'bealcan' to belch, utter, bring-up, splutter-out, give-forth and emit; a bit-odd, I thought, but then I realised that that's all very-appropriate for infants.
Five-miles off-shore to the west, in the Sea of Hair (you used-to-be-able to walk here - there was a road) there's an island that has a very interesting name: Monach Island - you'll probably understand why I think this place-name is referring to a certain Royal Personage, a Monarch? It's no difficult-stretch of the imagination to understand who the Monarch is.... because the place-name is constructed-around 'Mona,' the Moon, the Great Mother..
On that-point I think that I'll tell-you (as you're here anyway) that Leonardo's masterpiece the Mona Lisa is an image of the Moon Goddess - Lisa is 'lisian' and 'lis' - 'lisian' is to slip and glide; 'lis' is grace, mercy, favour, love, kindness, joy, peace, rest, remission, saving (of-life)
Monach is nowadays three separate isles - the main islands of Ceann Ear (once home to a nunnery), Ceann Lar and Shivinish are all linked at low-tide - it was at one time possible to walk all the way to Baleshare, five miles away at low tide.
Which was very-handy for Lord Grange who was looking for a nice, desolate-spot where he could maroon his dearest wife. He took her out to Monach and left-her-there, in 1732. There was only one crofter and his wife on the island but she lived in isolation, not even being told the name of the island where she was living. After a couple-of-years some fellas came and 'moved-her-on' to various other islands round-abouts, and she finally wound-up on Skye, where she eventually died.
Back on the mainland of Lewis there's more in-yer-face evidence of lunar-veneration.
Near the village of Callanish stands an astronomical device made of stone, tuned specifically to the sign of the Moon. Professor Alexander Thom (he decoded Stonehenge) pointed-out that the alignment of the stone avenue (when looking south) pointed directly to the setting of midsummer Full Moon behind a distant mountain on Harris.
Local tradition says that at sunrise on midsummer morning, the 'shining one' walked along the stone avenue, whose arrival was heralded by the cuckoo's call. The important thing here is the day that the 'shining-one' goes walking along the avenue - midsummer's sunrise - the day and moment ruled by the sign of the Moon, Cancer.
The cuckoo is infamous for her behaviour around other-birds-eggs. She is unique in the way she parasites other species of birds to raise her own young. She lays a single-egg in another-species of bird's nest - usually a sparrow's. The sparrows then hatch the egg and raise the cuckoo as if it were a sparrow. The young cuckoo - only a day-or-two old, works-its-way backwards up-the-side of the nest pushing the sparrow's eggs or even the baby sparrows out-of-the-nest. It does this again-and-again until only it remains to grow fat on the food supply.
In these Outer Hebrides, a Cuckoo's call heard when a person was hungry was bad luck, the opposite was true if the person had recently eaten.The call of the cuckoo was believed to beckon the souls of the dead, and the cuckoo was thought to be able to travel back and forth between the worlds of the living & the dead. Cuckoos were said to have the power of prophesy and could foretell a person's lifespan, the number of their children and when they would marry.
Every 18.6 years the Moon does something quite unusual - she rises further to the north than the Sun ever-does - and sets further south than he ever-will. She goes farther along-the-horizon than Him and in-a-sense She encompasses, cradles or holds him like a mother holds a baby.
I'm not surprised that She - being closer to the Earth than He, was thought more-powerful than He, in the ancient times of Humanity - and was at the epicentre of 'religion.'.
The stone-device at Callanish is designed to record this rare-event with incredible artistry, as well as precision. The Moon appears to rise and set from behind the hills of Harris which are as much a part of the device as the stones themselves.
The range-of-hills bears more-than-a-little similarity to a naked-female-form. The locals call her the Sleeping Beauty. Though I may be describing the precise configuration a little inexactly, at Midsummer (Cancer the crab) something strange and wonderful happens - the Moon interacts with the hills of the Sleeping-Beauty and the stones in significant ways - rising over the breasts, disappearing into the hills then miraculously reappearing right in the middle of the stones - as-if-by-magic.
We have to move-on again, though I'm perfectly-sure there's a zillion relevant-things I've not had-time to investigate in these Hebrides Islands... but there's a whole-world out-there, and we've gotta look-at-that.
So heading east along the northern tip - the top-of-the-goddesses-head - we soon-enough arrive at the Orkneys, directly on the north-south alignment running out-of-Canterbury, way back-there in Kent.
The Orkneys have a distinctly 'crab-like' look about-them.... there's two peninsulas, one on the west-side and one on the east, forming the crab's claws....
The islands have been inhabited for at least 8,500 years, and - say the experts - the name Orkney dates back to the 1st century BC or maybe even earlier. The islands have some of the oldest and best-preserved Neolithic sites in the-whole-of Europe.
You'll understand then that the Anglo Saxons weren't around in those-days of ancient-yore, and that the place-name won't make-any-sense at-all in that tongue? It's either that or we have to start recognising and accepting that this Anglo Saxon 'history' we've been fed by the orthodox-historians is a pile-of-bull. That this English tongue we English speak and write-in, is much, much older than the post-Roman invasion of that small German tribe from Angeln in 655AD. They only 'ruled' in the land until 1066 and yet they changed every place-name in the land - they must-have else why are 99.9% of all English place-names so-called Anglo Saxon, and we speak their tongue - we never let the Romans change those-things, nor the Normans......
According to the best-among-the experts (because we agree) Prof' Stephen Oppenheimer, there is absolutely NO genetic-evidence to back-up the idea that the Anglo Saxons were ever the dominant, ruling class in this nation of Britain. In-fact, when archaeologists excavated an 'Anglo Saxon' village's graveyard in Yorkshire, they found that 98% of the bones in the graves were native Britons - well-fed and relatively healthy - compared to the 2% of verifiably Anglo Saxon bones which showed the Anglo Saxon's in THAT village were domestic-servants who had been worked-hard and had not-been well--nourished during their lifetimes. This was - apparently - an 'average' so-called Anglo Saxon village typical of England at the very-time the Anglo Saxons were supposed-to have been most-powerful in the land.
I'm just a painter-and-decorator - what more can I do than write-about what I find out-there on the face-of-the-map?
Which is that when I looked-up the meaning of the name Orkney - a very-ancient-name - I found that it too fits-the-pattern which I've been pointing-out all-the-way through this article. 'Orc' means crock, cup, pitcher but it also means demon.
.... the cup or pitcher on the goddesses-head puts-me-in-mind of the goddess Isis.... she's often depicted with an object of-some-kind on her head (see pic)..... but hey, Isis is an Egyptian idea, right?
And on the alternate-meaning of 'orc,' as a demon - whilst we moderns think of a demon as an evil, supernatural-monster from the realms of the Underworld (a Judeo-Christian idea), in ancient times when these Orkneys were-named, a 'daemon' was a good spirit-entity. They were good or benevolent nature spirits, beings of the same nature as both mortals and gods, similar to ghosts, heroes, spirit guides, forces of nature or the gods themselves. Great and powerful figures were honoured after death as a daimon...
When we put the two ideas-together (as surely we are meant-to) we have a cup or pitcher that contains a spirit-entity.
The Orkney suffix - 'ney' would have been 'naigl' I think, because 'naigl' (pronounced nail) means Soul, and also means a needle.
Now we have some isles whose name works-out as the Isles of the Chalice of Spirit and Soul - or variations on those words and themes. The needle part I don't quite understand at the moment - but we'll come-back to that in a few paragraphs time.
Any-road - those well-preserved Neolithic archaeological-remains fit the established pattern to-a 't,' ancient-houses and (what-they-say-are) tombs in-plenty - I've marked the most notable of these on the map, Maes Howe, the Stones-of-Stenness, Ring-of-Brodgar and Scara Brae - though these are not the only ancient signs on the islands, by any-means.
There's some-doubt about what Maes Howe IS.... no bodies ever being found, but for me it's just too big and impressive for a tomb - and like the Pyramids of Egypt, such lack-of-evidence doesn't faze-the experts one iota - this stone-cathedral IS A TOMB, geddit?
As no artefacts were found when it was opened in 1861, little is actually-known about its real function. The bank that surrounds the swollen-belly of the mound was rebuilt in Norse times which suggests (to the experts) its reuse in the 9th century. The Vikings entered the mound during the 12th century and have left one of the largest collections of runes ever-found - anywhere in the world - plus some carvings of a dragon, a serpent and a walrus (very-significant).
The runic writing has pretty-well numb-skull messages, such as Haakon singlehanded bore treasures from this howe... that-sort-of-thing. Women were also discussed, as in Ingigerd is the most beautiful of women, and Ingibiorg the fair Widow, or Many a woman has come stooping in here no matter how pompous a person she was.
I think it highly-significant too that the 35ft entrance-passage-way into the 'cairn' is aligned to the Winter Solstice Sunset so that, for a few-minutes at that Sunset once-a-year, the Sunlight shines along the passageway and strikes the back-wall of the large, square-chamber. It's significant because the Winter Solstice Sunset lies exactly-opposite the Summer Solstice Sunrise and this Orkney Isle site, viewed from Canterbury, sits-upon the Cancerian-cusp-line, sign of the Summer Solstice.
The 'Great-Extremes' - birth-and-death (womb & tomb) are signified by this arrangement - Winter Solstice is the birth of the New Year and Summer Solstice is the death of the Old Year.
The evidence I have that this was NOT a tomb, even though some burials occurred - (Canterbury Cathedral's stuffed with dead-un's and IT'S not a tomb) is the name-of-the-place, as-ever. The experts have looked-at-it in every-tongue imaginable except the right-one.
The prefix Maes - aside from being a woman's-name - is a variation on the Anglo Saxon way of spelling Mass - the Eucharist - 'maes' is Mass, a religious-ceremony. How-about-that, eh? The Eucharist is often known as The Last Supper - supper being nourishment, bread and wine - all very Cancerian, huh?
The suffix 'howe' has the egg-heads equally perplexed - in Anglo Saxon 'howe' would be writ 'hos,' with a silent 's.' and that's company and escort. Hmm... a congregation and a Mass.... see-what-I-mean? To this eejit the name Maes Howe spells-out the fact that this building was most-probably a Neolithic Cathedral.
A Neolithic 'low-road' runs from Maes Howe, past the Stones-of-Stenness and the Ring-of-Brodgar to where the congregation or company lived - the oldest-village ever found in Europe, Skara Brae. It consists of ten clustered houses, and was occupied from roughly 3180BC to 2500BC.
Given the number of homes, it seems likely that no more than fifty people lived in Skara Brae at any one time - it's Europe's most complete Neolithic village, older than Stonehenge and the Pyramids. The site remained virtually undisturbed until 1913, when during a single weekend the site was plundered by a party with shovels who took away an unknown quantity of artefacts.
The whole village was sunk into a large-mound - what-they-call a 'midden-pile' - so keen were the ancients to be within the Great Midden (Maiden). The experts reckon that this was done merely to insulate the place from the Orkney's Arctic-like winters. But what-gets-me is that a midden-pile (shells, bones etc) of such a stature that you could bury ten-houses in-it, must-have taken centuries, if-not dozens-of-centuries, to be built-up to such a size.
This implies that someone had been living-here on this desolate, windswept lump-of-rock long-before Skara Brae or Maes Howe existed. Yet there are no caves here, and no-trees to build shelters either - where did they live whilst they built these houses?
There were fire-places or hearths in each home - but there's no fuel to-be-found anywhere on the island, no trees, no peat - nothing-to-burn - and there never was. The archaeological community admits to being somewhat baffled about that and has invented a new-fuel that they must-have used??? They reckon the residents of the Neolithic Orkneys gathered seaweed, dried-it-out and burned-it (no-evidence in support).
What kind-of makes-me-wonder though is whether-or-not there are any traces of ash or carbon left in those hearths.... I have the sneaking-suspicion that there isn't any, which explains the archaeologist's deafening-silence regarding those fire-places AND their bafflement - because, surely, an examination of any carbon-deposits found in the hearths would solve the mystery for them (and us all), and we'd all-know just what kind-of-fuel they were burning. After-all, they lived here for several centuries - there would be, should be, some traces, wouldn't there?
Blimey - that insulating-mound would have had to be good if they couldn't even have a fire. Not-only-that, any heat from the fire-places was deliberately prevented from warming the beds - large slabs-of-rock were fixed-in-place where they would-have entirely blocked-the-heat.
The houses have stone-built pieces of furniture - cupboards, dressers, seats, and storage boxes. Each home was entered through a low doorway that had a stone slab door that could be closed by a bar that slid in bar-holes cut in the stone door jambs.
A sophisticated drainage system was even incorporated into the village's design, one that included a primitive form of toilet in each dwelling. Seven of the houses have similar furniture, with the beds and dresser in the same places in each house - the large bed on the right side of the doorway and the small one on the left... each dresser stands against the wall opposite the door. Even evidence of mothers and/or children was discovered when beads and paint-pots were found on some of the small beds. Some carved-stone-balls of the type in the image below, were found there and are on display in the site's museum.
I went to the Anglo Saxon Dictionary to see what they knew Skara Brae as: 'skara' would be writ with a 'c,' thus: 'sceara,' which was their name for a ploughshare... it makes scars in the soil, furrows... hmm - there's not much soil-here to put a ploughshare into - how odd.
The second word 'brae' would-be: 'braec,' (silent 'c') which is (incredibly) a strip of untilled-land. This Neolithic village on an island with no-soil is called the ploughshare and a strip of untilled-land. What can I say? Perhaps I'll just remind-you that Cancer, the midsummer-sign, is the sign ruling agriculture and agricultural-land - as well-as the products or fruit of the land.
The organisation called Historic Scotland made the following statement about the significance of he monuments at the heart of Neolithic Orkney: Maes Howe and Skara Brae proclaim the triumphs of the human spirit in early ages and isolated places. They were approximately contemporary with the mastabas of the archaic period of Egypt (first and second dynasties), the brick temples of Sumeria, and the first cities of the Harappa culture in India, and a century or two earlier than the Golden Age of China. Unusually fine for their early date, and with a remarkably rich survival of evidence, these sites stand as a visible symbol of the achievements of early peoples away from the traditional centres of civilisation.
The Ring of Brodgar stone circle lies on a strip of land between two freshwater lochs near Skara Brae and Maes Howe. The experts say this ring is at least 600 years older than Stonehenge (trouble-is they don't know the age of Stonehenge but won't admit-it).
There were 60-stones in the ring (only 20-odd remain) which is laid-out in an almost-perfect circle - most unusual that-is, because most so-called stone-'circles' are more oval-like, or 'flattened' on-one side. This relative-perfection probably means-something of significance - something to-do with the symbology of the perfect, 360 degree ring or circle.... and the number 60 (the stone-count) - which divides the perfect-circle six-times.
Numerological-anoraks say that the vibration inherent in the number 60 creates harmony in the environment and 'adds to the beauty of the earthly garden.' Tuned-in numerologists tell-us that the number 60 / 6 is 'considered to be feminine and extrovert,' relating the number thereby to Virgo and Venus. They insist that number 60 symbolizes the 'principle of nurturing, caring and harmony' and that 60 is the 'teacher, trainer and parent'. The 60 vibration provides for others' well-being - creates security and harmony – instills into folks the desire to love and be loved.
The builders of Brodgar chiselled a moat into the solid-bedrock that totally encircled the perfect-circle - they dug-it 9 ft 10 inches-deep and 16 ft 4 inches wide, it was 340 feet from one-side to the other..... there are 13 (one-of la lune's numbers) burial-mounds surrounding the arrangement of rings.
... better have a look at what the name means then, eh?
'Brod' the prefix is 'brood,' foetus, hatchling and breeding - and refers to plant-life too: sprout, shoot.
The suffix 'gar' is the root-source of our-words garden and guard - I'm sure you'll know why these are appropriate to the sign Cancer, and no-other-sign? In the olde-tongue 'gar' is a point-of-land, corner, cape, promontory.... a garden ('gar') to plant the brood ('brod') in, no-less.
Only a small percentage of Brodgar's perfect Circle has been investigated by the archaeological-fellas so-far....
A mile away from Brodgar stand the Stones of Stenness, a standing-stone 'circle' laid-out in the more-usual elipse or oval.
According to the website Orkney Jar An 18th century visitor to Orkney wrote that the Stones o' Stenness were known locally as "The Temple of the Moon" - a term he claimed remained in use until at least 1841.
There's only four of the stones still-standing, but there were originally 12 - the circle is 144 ft across - hmm - that's 12 x 12... but research carried-out in the 1970's suggests that two of the stones were never actually 'installed.'
The circle-builders also hacked 7 ft down into the solid-rock to encircle the oval with a 'moat' that was 13 ft across - and then around-that they built a 'substantial' bank - you have to wonder what it was made-of though... like - where did they get the materials?
Any-road, questions-aside, let's have-a-look at what the place-name Stenness means. The orthodox have opted for the most dumbed-down of them all: 'Sten' and 'Ness' and it means 'stone-headland,' they drone.... (yawn - 'sten' = stone, 'ness' = head [land]).
I decided not-to-take their word for it and looked where I always look for the answers, the Anglo Saxon Dictionary, and as usual, found-the-answer, in-part because I've divided the syllables differently - 'Stenn' and 'Ess' as-opposed to their 'Sten' and 'Ness.'
'Staen' is how the prefix 'stenn' would've been writ, and that ain't no stone, it's a pitcher, a jug. 'Staenan' is to adorn with precious stones.
'Staen' a pitcher - is a word that's still-in-use today - a 'stein' is a stone-ware ('stan') beer-mug with a lid-on.
And whom is it that is to be adorned ('staenan') in precious-stones...?
The Goddess of course - as I said, 'ess' is the suffix, not ness - and we've met Ess before, ain't we. 'Ess' is Esa, the goddess. I theorize (rightly-or-wrongly) that Ess or Esa were the ancient Briton's version of the goddesses-name, Isis (so-sue-me).
To summarise then: on Orkney, the island of the Cup ('orc') and Soul ('neigl') is this 'circle' (oval) surrounded-by water (in the moat) enclosed in a chalice (the-bank), and the circle's-name is the Stein (cup with a lid) of Isis (Esa).
The opening of the stein is oriented north - where dwell the gods, Spirits, ancestors.... and the north magnetic-pole......
As you-can-see from the page (above) under 'Esa,' her name is also expressed and/or represented by the 'rune-for 'O.' The O rune is associated with property, inheritance and prosperity. In runic inscriptions on objects, placing the O rune prior to a person's name would indicate that the object belonged to that person. In the Anglo Saxon 'rune-poem' - designed to help remember a rune's meaning - the rune's-name is a woman's-name, Ethel. The 'O' part of the poem goes:
An estate is very dear to every man,
if he can enjoy there in his house,
whatever is right and proper,
in constant prosperity.
There's enough ancient mystery on Orkney to keep us here in fascination for-ever - but we have-to ignore all-that - and all of the other Orkney isles on the eastern-side of the main-isle.... and leave Britain all-together, and follow the beam-of-Moon-light 'up' North, across-the-sea..... where we find the Faroe Isles.....
... a tiny-little dot in the North Atlantic where 50,000 folks live their lives beneath the shimmering-skies of the Northern-Lights..... on an inescapably beautiful, female landscape - in-all there are only 540 square-miles made-up-of islands, for those 50,000 folks to dwell-upon, and it looks as-though every square-inch of it is utterly, eye-wateringly gorgeous, pretty, lovely, incredible to behold.
Considering the isle's proximity to Iceland the climate is remarkably-mild, for like the Hebrides the Faroes are bathed-in the balmy Gulf-Stream - fog and mist stream off-of-the-sea, veiling the islands and haunting the valleys and peaks. The quality of the light is hard-to-describe - cameras fail to convey the subtle, shifting, constantly-changing tones that infuse the northern-air and everything within-it - few artists have even attempted the task. But one had a pretty-good go at the job, Faroe Islander Ruth Smith (died 1950's) managed to give the viewer of her works a taste of the shimmering, beautiful and peculiar colour and light effects that the Faroese experience every-day - and she wasn't on acid.
I s'pose that that's what attracted all those holy-folks here in-the-first-place, monks and nuns from Scotland and Ireland set-up Hermitages and little cells and all that biz' way-back in the dawn-of-time - Saint Brendan among-them (reportedly)..... one-of the islands is called Paradise Island Of Birds (really!) and they reckon olde Brendan was responsible for-that.
The People that live on the islands of Faroe are-descended from women who came from islands such as the Orkneys, Hebrides etc, etc. and Norse-Men from Scandinavia - on the Faroes genetic investigations into the population's origins have revealed that the Y chromosomes, tracing male descent, are 87% Scandinavian, whilst the mitochondrial DNA which traces female descent, is 84% Scottish..
The old Norse name for the Faroes is/was Na Scigirí - which of-course cannot be interpreted in Anglo Saxon, right? Right?
I'll look-instead-then at the modern English name for the isles, the Faroes. but in Anglo Saxon, of-course. The ancients would have put the-old silent 'g' in the word, it would look more-like: 'Faeger' with an 'o' on the end. And then it would mean (to them) the same as-it-does today, to us: fair, lovely, beautiful, pleasant, agreeable, attractive.... (muse..... no-wonder the Pharaohs appropriated the word)
Of-course, fair, attractive and beautiful describes very accurately the environment which are the Faroes, and is also a description of the beautiful-one - the goddess with many-names - and many wiles.
On the matter of the goddess's many-names, I'm about-to-do what should not-be-done - look-at the old Norse name for these beautiful islands in Anglo Saxon (so sue me). They called the isles Na Scigiri - that'll-be 'naesc igiri' in Anglo Saxon - 'naesc' fawn-skin; and 'ig' + 'iri.' An 'ig' is a hedgehog or porcupine, and 'iri' is wandering, angriness, perversity and depravity - 'ire.'
.... ho ho ho - what a crazy image:- an angry, wandering, depraved and perverted hedgehog wearing a fawn-skin. Seems to make little-sense, eh? Unless you recognise that there are code-words being employed here, as there are everywhere we've looked-at (believe-it-or-not). The code-words here are fawn-skins - and hedgehog - fawn-skins clearly-signals to the initiated the Dionysian rites - because the followers known-as the Maenads always dressed in fawn-skins - and they were women.
The Maenads were the followers of god of the vine Dionysus. According to Plutarch they were called Mimallones and Klodones in Macedonia, a name that translates into Greek as raving ones. They were entranced women, wandering under the orgiastic spell of Dionysus through the forests and hills (there's nothing-but mountains and hills here - the Faroes ARE hills).
They were known as wild, insane women who could not be reasoned with - usually crowned with vine leaves, clothed in those fawn-skins and carrying the thyrsus (a staff of giant fennel covered with ivy vines and leaves) and dancing with wild abandon.
And of-course - a fawn-skin is also the poetic way of describing the islands appearance from out at sea - a backdrop of brown hues and tones with fluffy-white mottles of fog, mist and rain-cloud, the mountains spotted-and-flecked with ice.
Same-goes for the hedgehog - it's that poetic-description thing again - when seen from aboard-ship - not-only is it flecked-like a fawn-skin, but it's all speckly and spikey-too like a hedgehog.
And on the symbolic-level - like the Maenads and their fawn-skins, the hedgehog also represents female-fertility and being connected to the earth - it's belly is close to the ground and this proximity identifies-it as a living-symbol of connection to earth and all that is fertile. The hedgehog's tendency to curl up in the foetal position when it feels threatened is also a message of inward-centring, and connection with source as defence.
Being nocturnal, hedgehog is a totem of the mistress-of-intuition, psychic ability, prophetic dreams and visions - the goddess. She deals with concepts that are cloaked in shadow - the realm of the subconscious-mind - her night-life is thus symbolic of 'second sight.'
Hedgehog has a natural resistance to snake-venom. This is a symbol of victory over evil, and a portent of resurrection, life after death and/or defeating death completely.
The hedgehog has an association with the vine too. In grape-growing regions of the world the hedgehog is often seen knocking low-lying grapes off-of vines and proceeding to roll on-them - sticking the grapes onto their spines and toodling-off to enjoy-'em at their leisure. The magically-minded ancient Greeks and Romans mused that the secretive hedgehogs clandestinely collected-and-fermented the-grapes, then held Dionysian rites of their-own.
The traditional Faroese music was not accompanied by instruments. Only in the largest city Torshavn (the capital) were some instruments like fiddles played. When trade grew in the 20th century Torshavn started to import and use musical instruments. Outside the capital the Faroese stuck-with their chain dance and voices. The chain-dance was banned in Europe by the church, due to its pagan origin and flavour. It's danced with linked-arms while revolving-round in a circle.... there's not-much else I can tell-you about-it but holding-hands and revolving in circles was probably all-it-took to get this... heathen (north) pole-dance outlawed - it sounds filthy.
The storyline of the ballad is attended by everybody with great interest, and if something especially pleasant or moving occurs, you can see it in the look and movement of the dancers – when the rage of the battle is described, the hands are clenched together, and when victory is in hand, they make cheering movements..Færøsk Anthologi, 1891.
Other-things - symbols that are 'sacred' to the modern-day Faroese, contain many of the elements we saw in the earlier-sections of this article - their flag, for instance, is a red-cross (blue border on a white field), the grindadráp (pilot whale slaughter), the distinctive, old-fashioned clothing they still-like to-wear on holidays... and their national bird, the oystercatcher (we first-saw oysters and their catchers in Whitstable). The Faroese themselves - generally-speaking - don't eat shellfish of any-kind, considering it unhealthy and unpalatable
In formal gatherings the speakers or officials face the audience from the open end of a U-shaped table - the symbolic-chalice or cup.
In the ice-free harbours of the beautiful Faroes we must climb-aboard a ferry now, and head farther north to the Land of Fire and Ice - Iceland.
In similar style to the Faroes, though orthodox historians long-denied-it, Scottish and Irish monks (known-as Papars) were living-here before the Norsemen arrived and settled-down, sometime in the 9th century - the oldest source which mentions the existence of the Papar was the Book of the Icelanders, written-between 1122 and 1133. The book tells us that they lived on a small-island on the east-side of Iceland which was/is named-after them - Papey.
Recent archaeological excavations have started to change-the-opinion of the orthodox who had insisted that the Norse were the first on the icy-island - no monks-here, mate. But then the diggings revealed the ruins of a cabin on the Reykjanes Peninsula, and carbon dating proves that it was abandoned somewhere between 770 and 880, faintly-suggesting that Iceland was populated well before the 9th century. This archaeological find also shows that the monks had already left before the Norse arrived.
Of-course the orthodox will tell-us that the Papars and the island of Papey are named-after the Pope - and they say that 'Pope' means 'Father.' I'm not-saying they're wrong, but I am saying that they should know the origins of the word 'Pap' - this from dictionary.com:
Chiefly Dialect .
1. a teat; nipple.
2. something resembling a teat or nipple.
And given that Cancer is the sign of the mother and the child - and all-that-we've-seen in this cone-of-light while we were on the way here - then reading 'papey' as 'father' simply doesn't fit the pattern. For-me then the island called Papey is named-after the goddesses ever-flowing ocean of milk......
Whilst we're on the matter of names we might-as-well have-a-look-at the alternative meanings hidden there right in-front-of our eyes in the name of Iceland - in this-game you can never take place-names at their face-value - we can't assume that it would have meant 'land-of-ice' to the ancients - they had several other words for 'frozen-water' but 'i-c-e' wasn't one-of-them.
In so-called Anglo Saxon 'ice' meant a number of things - first of all there's 'ic,' I (me)..... and then there's 'ice' = 'yce,' a frog, toad. Given-that in Iceland there are neither insects nor reptiles because the environment's too harsh, then I'm opting for both of the above solutions - the island is identifying-itself as a denizen of the Underworld, I do-believe, as a reptile..... Back in the days-of-yore before history-began, the wise-ones spoke-in-metaphor, and all-reptiles were viewed as kin-of-the dragon, the serpent - they are cold-blooded and were, they made parables, immortal.....Iceland is all brimstone and fire, and rose-in-unexpected smoke and fury from the Underworld.
This sign is, as you are well-aware, the sign of gates and doors - doors of the womb and doors of the tomb, doors to life and doors to after-life, to the Underworld and from the Underworld. And I, the land of the toad, stand-guard at the gate.....
Any-road - Iceland also wallows in the warm waters of the Atlantic-Conveyor, as it's sometimes called. The place would-be totally uninhabitable if it wasn't - huge swathes of it already-are, brrr...
When the island was first settled, it was covered in forests! Some-time in the12th-century it was described as 'forested from mountain to sea shore'. The forests were heavily exploited over the centuries for firewood and timber. Then along-came 'climate-deterioration' in what they-call the 'Little Ice-Age,' and then sheep over-grazing caused irreversible loss of the precious-topsoil. Today, many farms have been abandoned and three-quarters of Iceland's land is totally 'dead.'.
Two-thirds of the population live in and around the capital-city of Reykjavic in the south-western part of the island - which-is a huge plateau of mountains and glaciers, sand and fields-of-lava. melting ice forms into glacial-rivers which flow to the sea through the lowlands.
The island is located where the North Atlantic Ocean becomes the Arctic Ocean.. The main island is entirely south of the Arctic Circle, but the arc of the circle passes right-through the small, lightly populated island of Grimsey off the main island's northern coast (there are 29 other little-islands around the main island).
'Grima' of Grimsey is the Anglo Saxon word for a ghost; a mask and/or a helmet - these elements we've witnessed all-through this Cancerian-cone of light so I'll not bother with explanations as-to why the little island's-name is appropriate, in all-sorts-of-Cancerian-ways.
All-sorts of wild-animals manage to exist on this chunk of ice and lava - but the 'ones-in-the-know' say that the only-one that was here before the Scandinavians came was the arctic fox - makes-ya-wonder how it survived..? Eating snow-balls and glaciers, I suppose? Nowadays though there are mink, mice, rats, rabbits and reindeer - shame for the fox that the mice and rats didn't get there a little earlier - they could've eaten a few-of-those. Even the occasional polar-bear pops-over the sea from Greenland on an iceberg (not-very-welcome).
The humans have managed to breed and rear all-sorts of animals in this land of geysers - Icelandic-sheep, cattle, chickens, goats, the celandic-horse and the Icelandic sheepdog, all specially cold-adapted and wot-not.
Yet farther-north we-must-go, to that huge iceberg called Green(land) - if ya thought Iceland was chilly, you ain't seen (felt) nuffin-yet....
.... this is the land of permafrost (one-of-them).
Before we go any farther, we've gotta have a look at the name Greenland, ain't I? Y'know... Iceland was named by the ancients after a creature that NEVER existed there, a frog or toad, and now here-we-are at a land that is quite-distinctly anything-but what it's named-after - green. Seems crazy, dun-it? But they knew what they were up-to, those ancient place-namers (whoever she was).
To the ancients green was more-than a colour - it meant (and means) young, immature, living and growing - exactly what the shape-shifting Moon, and young-children behave-like. One day you have a fat, round-bellied Moon, and-then for 13-days we-watch as her ice melts around-her-shores and diminishes her swollen-belly to nothing. Then the lights-go-out - pitch-dark - New-Moon, and now-we-know why her belly shrank - she's had-a-baby!
3-days later the baby - a tiny-sliver of light, appears - it's young, immature and it's growing - that can mean only-one-thing - that Moon up-there in the night-sky is acting very-much like a living-thing, huh? It's a Green-Moon when it's a New-Moon.
Though not-much grows there now - the great iceberg's naming as-such goes-to-show just how-old this allegedly Anglo Saxon language really-is. Because Greenland really-was green at one-time - and not so long-ago as the experts once thought. Recent scientific-investigations in-which they took-cores from over-a-mile (1.2) down inside the glacier proved that the place was once green and lush and all-sorts of life flourished here.
They recovered the oldest plant DNA on record - DNA which unequivocally revealed that Greenland was far warmer half-a-million years-ago than was generally believed. DNA of trees, plants, and insects - butterflies and spiders - was estimated to date to 450,000 to 900,000 years ago, according to the remnants retrieved from this long-vanished forest. The samples suggest that the temperature probably reached 10 °C in summer and −17 °C in winter.
Greenland has been inhabited by Arctic peoples for some 5,000 years - they got here across the frozen-sea from Canada (Alaska) - so 'tis said. The Thule (Inuit) Culture were the ancestors of the current population. They started coming from Alaska around 1000 AD, reaching Greenland around 300-years later. The Thule introduced several technological innovations that vibrate to the Cancerian archetypes - like dog-sleds (Arctic-chariots) and toggling harpoons (a double-tipped whaling harpoon).
In the Chariot card you can see the very-elements employed by the Inuit... the living sphinxes have turned-into domesticated-wolves, and the wand in the charioteer's hand has become a harpoon. He steers the chariot without the use-of hand nor reins, as the dog-sledders do - the Inuit have harnessed the wolves natural propensity to follow a leader (the alpha-male and female) and work-as-a-team - so-they persuaded the wolf to become his helper in return for food. It's a deal that works for both-parties.
The lead-dog (the alpha) goes at the front of the pack and he (the alpha) follows the whistles and shouts of the man-on-the-sled (the musher) to steer - and the other dogs follow the lead-dog and the man gets-to-where he wants.
The biggest National Park in the world is Greenland - the park is larger than England and France put-together. There are polar-bears, walrus, reindeer, musk-ox and of-course, the omnipresent wolves to prey-on-them.... the incredible archetype of the canines, man's best-friend as he's become. She and he survives in sub-zero temperatures for years, in absolute darkness for five months every-year, and without food for weeks, travelling in packs of 2 to 20 animals.
When the female is pregnant, she goes-off on-her-own and digs a cell/womb/cup type-thing, a den to raise her pups. If the ice is too thick, she will move to a convenient hollow somewhere near - a cave in the ideal-situation.
They live in family groups: the alpha-male and the alpha-female and their pups - the rest of the pack works together to feed and care for these pups as if they were their own offspring. When the pack returns after a successful-hunting expedition they regurgitate a portion of their meal for the pups.
The only lone-wolves are the young-males who go-off on their own to claim their-own territory and females. Once his nose tells-him he's found a bit of unclaimed land, he takes-possession of-it by scent-marking the boundary etc. There is some-kind of canine-etiquette performed and other lone-wolves will come and join him... one-at-a-time they come and soon they have a pack with an alpha-male and a pack-of-followers.
And now they become an effective hunting-machine, roaming areas as vast as a thousand square-miles in search of prey - which there ain't much-of here, and hasn't been for a very-long-time. Wolves are not very-fast runners so they use pure stamina to wear-down their faster-prey, acting as-one unit, passing invisible signals amongst each-other.... Rex go left, I'll run in and alarn them, Simba run right, Bonzo lag-behind, Trixy come with me etc, etc...
Because the wolves live in such an extreme, harsh and remote environment, few humans venture into their world during the long, dark winter - even the vast majority of Inuit live further south than the arctic wolf. The details of their lives through much of the year are virtually unknown - no-one knows how they survive.
On a different-matter all-together - the Greenland flag - if THAT ain't a symbol representing the Moon in her phases, then I don't know what-is. - unless it's the image-of the open-top of a grail, bowl or basin - considering that Greenland actually IS a cup or grail full to the-brim and over-flowing with water - frozen-water....
To explain further I'll directly quote an article in Wikipedia: The weight of the ice sheet has depressed the central land area to form a basin lying more than 984 ft below sea-level, while elevations rise suddenly and steeply near the coast. A survey led by French scientists in 1951 concluded that, under the ice sheet, Greenland was composed of three large islands.
The closest land to this basin-full-of-water is the 5th largest island in the world and called Baffin Island - a part of Canada wher 11,000 Canadians live.
I won't bother researching its English-name because it was named-after some English dude called Baffin. I will have a look though at its old Norse monika - Heluland, in Anglo Saxon (go-figure). In that olde-tongue 'helu' is - rather than you might suspect - nothing to-do with hell, even-though to you-and-me soft Europeans it's so sodding-cold here that Hell would seem an appropriate-description. But no - in Anglo Saxon 'helu' is closer to hello than hell - it means safety, salvation, and even propsperity.
Well.... anyone daft-enough to be sailing a ship in these arctic-seas would think-of-it in that way - Baffin Island or Heluland is a place-of-safety indeed. But I have to add its meaning to all the other place-names encountered in this Cancerian-cone of Moonlight and consider that a place-of-safety refers to Mother, houses, castles, cells, boxes, wombs, tombs etc, etc - I can't help-it, that's why I'm here, it's my job.
The Foxe Basin the Gulf of Boothia and Lancaster Sound separate the island from the mainland. These places are named-after people so I won't bother looking-into them - though the Foxe Basin is a place-name I thought I'd better bring to your attention.....
95% of the island is above the Arctic Circle and they-experience the Polar-Night in the winter and the Midnight-Sun in the summer - the Sun sets on November 22nd and rises on January 19 though there is twilight for four-hours each-day.
When-you-think-about-it, any-place or People that experiences constant 'twilight' as the everyday 'norm,' is living in a world that approximates to Moonlight and night. Sea ice surrounds the island for most of the year, only disappearing completely from the north coast for short unpredictable periods in August, sometimes not-at-all. It doesn't take heaps of imaginative-power to see how the whole ice-bound worlds of Greenland and Baffin 'mimic' the shape-shifting Moon..... coastal-edges diminishing-in-size.... now increasing, waxing-and-waning. Locked-in-ice and permanent darkness, it's permanently like the dark-side. And in summer these huge-islands receive permanent daylight - seen-from-above they flare-white and dazzle-the-eyes like a Full-Moon, and in other contexts and other climes, the well-known phrase 'Midnight-Sun' refers to one-thing-only - a bright Full-Moon.
There's quite a variety of animals that manage to eke-out a living here - on the coast are polar bear, but inland are arctic-wolves, arctic foxes, caribou, lemming and arctic-hare. The wolves on Baffin Island are a unique species - different to those on Greenland in that they're smaller in stature and hunt on their-own, due to the higher-number of prey-animals. Now and again a male and female pair will hunt together but generally-speaking they're lone-wolves on Baffin.
The archaeologists have-been digging-around and dug-up remains of yarn, rats, tally-sticks, a carved wooden mask depicting Caucasian features, and possible architectural remains, which place European traders and settlers on Baffin Island sometime before 1000 AD. Their report states: Dating of some yarn and other artifacts, presumed to be left by Vikings on Baffin Island, have produced an age that predates the Vikings by several hundred years. So [...] you have to consider the possibility that as remote as it may seem, these finds may represent evidence of contact with Europeans prior to the Vikings' arrival in Greenland.
With regards to the name Canada, you'll no-doubt remember that we've come-across quite a few other-places in this Cancer-cone with the prefix 'cana,' and 'canne,' meaning (you'll also recall) a 'can', cup, bowl, dish etc. Here though it's 'can,' without 'ne' on-the-end - a germ a sprout.
The suffix 'ada' despite being a woman's-name doesn't fit for there is no 'ada' in Anglo Saxon except as a prefix, so I've opted for 'naedre' giving-us 'can' + 'naedre' - a 'naedre' is a serpent, viper, adder, snake - when we put these ideas together we have a germ or sprout and a slip-sliding serpent... am I seeing fertility...?
But apparently the country is named-after a collection-of-houses, a village.... In 1535, indigenous inhabitants of the Quebec City region used the word to direct a French explorer to their chief's village of Stadacona using the Iroquoian word 'kanata', meaning village or settlement. The explorer - Cartier - later used the word Canada to refer not only to that particular village, but the entire area subject to the chief at Stadacona - it-stuck - and within ten-years, books and maps had begun referring to the whole-place as Canada - The Village. The land that is now called Canada has been inhabited for millennia by various Peoples.
When the Europeans first came to The Village there were, according to estimates, around 2 million indigenous folk - or First Nation's People. Within a century-or-so that population was reduced by 80% - mostly-from common-or-garden diseases they'd never been-exposed-to - flu, measles and smallpox - they had no immunity to-them and as a result, died by the-million.
Although not without conflict, the Europeans early interactions with First Nations and Inuit populations were relatively peaceful. A series of eleven treaties were signed between the First Nations and Inuit in Canada and the reigning Monarch of the day from 1871 to 1921.
Every region in Canada (ten provinces and three territories: 10+3=13=the Moon), had and still have many tribes co-existing in more-or-less fruitful-harmony with the land and the creatures they shared and share-it-with. For instance in just-one-of-the Territories, the Yukon, are the 'Federally-Recognised' Aklavik (Inuit); Acho Dene Koe Band; Behdzi Ahda; Dechi Laot'i (Dogrib); Deh Gah Gotie; Deline Dene; Deninu K'ue; Dog Rib Rae Band; Fort Good Hope ; Settlement; Gameti (Dogrib); Gwicha Gwich'in; Inuvik Nation (Inuit); Jean Marie River; K'atlodeeche; Ka'a'gee Tu; Liidlii Kue; Lutsel K'e ; Dene Band; Nahanni Butte; Pehdzeh Ki; Salt River #195; Sambaa K'e; Tetlit Gwich'in; Tulita Dene Nation; West Point; Wha Ti (Dogrib) and the Yellowknives Dene.
And that's just-one-of the regions.... there are dozens of 'First-Nation' tribes in each-of-the thirteen regions. I find the 'Dogrib Rae' tribe's name interesting, in a canine sort-of-way - I'm kind-a-taken by the name of the Labrador Peninsula too - woof-woof!... that place-name's barking-mad..... shame it fits-into the following-sign though.
I've marked an area in reddish-hues on the map (above) and marked it as the 'Great-Shield' - that's what they call-it. It's made out-of granite-and-shit 'cos it was spewed-out of a volcano some-time-back in the mists of time - no-one was there at the time, and hardly anyone's there now - the human population is sparse, and industrial development is minimal, while mining is very prevalent. I mention-it because we're investigating the sign-of-the-crab, ain't we - it's got a defensive-shield for its house, ain't it.
The Great-Shield stretches from the Great Lakes all-the-way to the Arctic Ocean - over half of Canada; it also extends south into Leo and the northern reaches of the US. Incidentally, have you noticed how 'crab-like' certain parts of the Canadian-Shield look, from up-here in (hyper) space?
The name of one-of-the-Canadian-crab's claws, the distinctly-canine-esque in-name Labrador Peninsula, I really-want-to have-a-look-at, but it falls-out-of the Cancerian-cone and into the Leo configuration - one 'claw' is in Leo and the other is in Cancer, so we'd best stick-within our remit - which-is Cancer.
The channel in between the open-pincers is the equally canine-esque in-name Foxe Channel (not only a TV Network).
I've put a few-other place-names on the map - mainly because they stood-out as important locations when I flew or moused-over them on Google Earth - and because they fit-into the pattern sooo perfectly: Queen Charlotte's Sound (I'm sure she is/was), and close to the Sound is the Strait-of-Hecate.
Hekate is one-of the many-names of the goddess, frequently depicted in triple form and variously associated with crossroads, entrance-ways, fire, light, the Moon, magic, witchcraft, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants, necromancy and sorcery. She has rulership over earth, sea and sky, as well as a more universal role as Saviour, Mother of Angels and the Cosmic World Soul.
As you can see from the image of Hekate at-right, she was/is very-much associated with the serpents... which reminds-me of the Anglo Saxon interpretation of Canada's name - a 'can' a shoot, sprout, and 'naedre,' a viper, snake, serpent.... she is also associated-with a couple-of-dogs, also shown in both-images.
So, what about Queen Charlotte - was she some goddess-inclined cartographer's interpretation, his idea of an earthly-embodiment of the goddess? Seems so, to me - she was very-dark skinned in-to-the-bargain. I looked in Wikipedia to find she was the consort or missus of George III - him and Charlotte had 15 children, 13 of whom survived to adulthood - 13 of them eh, well-I-never. She was Queen Victoria's Grandma, and she had what they politely ignored - not only a very-dark complexion but 'negroid' facial-features too. Didn't seem to bother old George though, did it?
It was the 'fashion' in those-days for portrait-painters to sort-of bleach the skin-tones of black Ladies so they'd appear whiter than reality - what-a-world we've sprung-from, eh? But you can get a good-idea anyway, if-not the bona-fide image from her portrait - the goddess in her human-form.
As there are such a significant-number (13) of provinces and territories I thought we'd better spend a few idle-moments having a look-at-those which fall-within the Cancerian Cone, in Anglo Saxon (I know, I know - so sue-me).
Let's start with the province called Manitoba - named after the lake called Manitoba. Lake Manitoba was named long before the province. According to those in-the-know, 'manitou' means spirit, and the rest of the word 'ba,' refers - they say - to the idea of a place.
The name derives from manitou-wapow or manidoobaa
Maybe that's correct - I don't know the particular-tongue (Cree or Ojibwa) in which 'manitou' means spirit, so we'll have-to take-their-word for it. I decided to look-at-it in Anglo Saxon (I can't break-the-habit) - because we've seen 'man' incorporated in place-names in Olde-England, at Manchester for an appropriate example. It refers to The People, 'Mankind,' Community, Company, Companionship, Cohabitation, Intercourse. So... in a certain-sense, the Anglo Saxon agrees with Ojibwa and Cree Indian.
The 'itoba' part of Man-itoba finds the same agreement as the 'man' syllable does with the Cree et al. In Anglo Saxon the first-syllable 'ito' means of-old, formerly, once, already and earlier.
The beauty and strangeness of it is (for-me) that Cree and Anglo Saxon seem to be from the same ancient-place... I think I'll refer to Anglo Saxon in future as Pre-Babelite (he he he:-)
The final syllable 'ba' has no match that I can-find but it doesn't really-matter. As it stands the place-name Manitoba as Anglo Saxon - [this-is-the-place where] Mankind has always been, refers to a home and the spirit whom dwells there - Mankind, the People.
The capital-city of Manitoba has 2 women's-names incorporated - Wynnie and Peggy, in the city of Winnipeg. The experts say that the place-name comes from the Cree for 'muddy waters.'
I though think the name is actually referring to a meal - 'win' is wine and 'pecg' (silent 'g') is a pig - in Anglo Saxon, that-is. But that's not-to-say that muddy-waters would be in-any-way inappropriate - both water and mud are essential-elements in farming, they ever-so-slightly assist with growing things, apparently.... though I have-to-say that in the ancient mind-set, if you juxtapose the-idea-of pigs with the idea of wine you inevitably arrive at the wine-skin or leather-bottle made out-of a pigs-bladder.
The provincial coat-of-arms with its' motto is Cancer's 'People-Power' all-over - in English the motto is: One with the Strength of Many. There are 13 stars on the arms representing the territories and provinces - but also signifying the Moon. There's a castle too and a nice flower, symbols respectively for the womb and tomb and the goddess - whatever name you call-her.
Swiftly moving-on, from this province named-after a lake, to its neighbour next-door Saskatchewan named-after a river. In Cree its' name means Swift-Flowing-River - no-arguments-there. I wonder how this'll come-out in Anglo Saxon..? Let's have-a-look.
The nearest word I could find for at-least part of Saskatchewan is 'sceacan,' pronounced 'scatchan' yet-again agrees with the Cree - 'sceacan' means move-quickly to-and-fro, go, glide, hasten and flee. Such epithets could equally be applied to the Moon or wolves, as to a river, eh?
The box and chest theme returns too - the shape of the provincial-borders describes a rectilinear-cube or box - I've pasted an image that shows this clearly, from Wikipedia, above-right.
The capital city was built on an empty grass-plane where the only distinguishing feature for hundreds-of-miles around was a massive-pile of its' former-inhabitants' bones - buffalo (bison) bones.
Regina was named-after Queen-Victoria by her daughter the Duchess-of-Argyll, who was married-to the Governor-of-Canada - it's called Regina. The city's coat-of-arms, though on-the-face-of-it is directed toward the British Monarchy - looks for-all-the-world like an homage to some goddess-or-other.... a goddess associated with wheat-sheaves.... the motto (in English) reads: (the) Queen Flourishes.
The First Nations tribal-folks in the Saskatchewan region did-a-deal with the modern-times government of the province, and won tribal-rights to their old homelands, and money to buy-it back. Trouble-is they can't bring the buffalo-back, so who can blame-the Indians for their endemic 'peevishness'?
The province next-door is named-after Queen-Victoria's daughter-too - Alberta - it was the third of-her-names, which in-full was: Princess Louise Caroline Alberta... there's an unmistakable, quite definite tendency to name-places after females in Canada, The Village.
The capital of Alberta was named-after Edmonton in London, so there's no-issue whatever with looking-at-it in Anglo Saxon, eh?
The prefix 'ed' denotes repetition, turning; 'mon' is Mona, the Moon; and even-if the experts DO say that 'ton' is a 'tun,' a settlement - it ain't in Anglo Saxon. In that tongue it's an abbreviated 'tonama' and it means name, surname, other-name. Edmonton then is an instruction or invitation to repeat Mona's 'other' name.... or something along-those-lines, anyway.
There are three large lakes, Lake Clair (554 sq mi)) Lesser Slave Lake (451 sq mi)), and Lake Athabasca (3,049 sq mi)) which straddles the border between Alberta and Saskatchewan.
The Cree Indians and the Beaver Tribe waged-war on each-other over land or something, but they got-over-it, buried-their-hatchets or tomahawks and made a peace-treaty with each-other, in 1781. They decided that they would name the river where they'd met for their pow-wow after this momentous event and it's still marked on all-the-maps as the Peace River. The river has its origins in the Rocky Mountains but is also fed by Lake Clair (remember St Clair and the poor ladies?), and Lake Athabasca.
Clair's lake gets most of its' water from a river named-after a rune named-after a tree - the Birch River.
I looked-up the meaning of the rune 'Birch' on the rune-web-site, Rune Secrets [runesecrets.com]
Berkano – “Burr-can-oh” – Literally: “Birch Goddess” – Esoteric: Birth, Sanctuary
Rune of continued growth and continual rebirth or renewal in all things. The rune of becoming.
Psi: secrecy, silence, safety, mature wisdom, dependence
Energy: container/releaser, female fertility, trees and plantlife
Mundane: motherhood, healing, gardening, child raising, the womb
Divinations: Birth, becoming, life changes, shelter, liberation, sanctuary, secrets; or blurring of consciousness, deceit, sterility, stagnation, conspiracy, insecurity.
I think I ought-to explain-something, about here, before we go any farther. I am in-no-way suggesting that these place-names, so recently attributed - within a few-centuries at-most - to their places - were decided-on by some secret-cabal of wise-ones' who knew what we-know. What I mean is that whoever gave these relatively recently-applied place-names to their places did-not sit-down, look at the 'occult-map' as we are, and then try to intentionally, deliberately come-up with names that would fit the Cancerian archetypes.
The archetypes-themselves cause-it - they influence every subconscious as-well-as conscious mind that dwells-within or passes-through its particular 'beam,' and the person-in-question (cartographer, council-official etc) gets ideas, dreams, words and numbers, day-dreams and fantasies and hey-presto! As if-by magic the individual rivers, lakes, villages, towns, roads, forests, planes, hills etc, etc, receive an appropriate-name - the 'Spirit-of-Place' has-itself whispered its' own-name into the dreams of all within the 'beam.'
Having got-that off-my-chest I want to have a butcher's-hook at the lake and river with the interesting-name Athabasca - at first-glance it looks-like an Anglo Saxon word or pair of words - the prefix 'atha' would be 'ator,' and that's poison, venom and gall. The final syllables 'basca' (silent 'c') would be a variant of 'basu,' and that's the colours purple, crimson and scarlet - it's also the word for the precious-stone, topaz. The word 'topaz' comes, say the experts, from Sanskrit and means fire. That's interesting.... even Sanskrit agrees with Anglo Saxon (go-figure) about what topaz look-like - it comes in various colours including red, orange, peach, pink, gold, yellow, brown and clear like-diamond. Incredibly - naturally pale to medium blue topaz is enhanced by irradiation to produce a more intense blue. I say it's incredible because the rocks in the mountains around here are naturally radioactive!
So - it seems that, when interpreted in Anglo Saxon, that this is a lake (and river) of fire & venom, that shines like a topaz of purple and red..... the experts say that Athabasca is a Cree Indian name and also say it means something-like: [the-place-where] there are plants one after another. That's what the experts tell-us it means but I wonder if they ever-asked an Indian?
I wonder THAT because, as I said above, in recent-times - long-after the demise-of-the-Indians whose lake this was - they dug uranium-mines on the edge-of-the-lake and did what they always-do - poisoned-the-lake. Although the last mine closed in the '80s they left a hell-of-a-mess and heavily contaminated the north-shores with the kind-of-shit you don't want to drink, eat-the-fish-from nor swim-in..... a lake of poison.
The uranium-mines along the north-shores of Athabasca led-to the construction of Uranium City - homes for the workers. There were about 5000 people living there to service the 52 mines and 12 open-cast pits, but the mine's closure in 1983 led to Uranium City's total economic collapse, with most of the caucasian-residents hitting-the-trail and going over the mountains. With nothing to keep-them-here who can blame-them? It IS rather nippy here - they recorded a wind-chill of minus 74 on 28th January 2002 - the readings stay below -40C for 34 days a year on average. Nowadays about 90 hardy-souls are still-there, many-of-whom are of the First Nations, 'Indigents' or 'Indians,' as we once termed-them.
The Dark-Age and medieval alchemists in Europe took more care than their modern-day counterparts in Canada not to poison everything and everyone-else around-about with their occasional-errors - the stupid-bloody-modern-white-man[agement]!
And now they've gone-and-found oil-bearing-sands all-over these once life-supporting lands... that doesn't bode-too-well for anyone but the multi-national land-stealing corporations and their trillionaire controllers. When they've totally destroyed the sacred-land of the Native's - the former indigenous inhabitant's - they'll let-'em have their barren-lands back, I expect.
Having destroyed Alberta's environmental-cred' let's slip-across the border to avoid the Mountys', into the province named by 'embodied-goddess' Queen Victoria - British Columbia - with its capital Victoria.
British Columbia is the endpoint of transcontinental-highways and railways, and the site of major Pacific ports. The climate is relatively mild, but less than 5% of the total land-area is arable, yet they still manage a fair-old-drop of agriculture. They grow veggies ranging from asparagus to zucchini, celery, broccoli, cauliflower, parsnips, radishes, beets, brussel-sprouts, eggplant, leeks, dill, spinach, turnips and rhubarb, to name-but-a-few - 90% of-it is grown in the Fraser Valley where around 10,000 hectares (1 hectare = 2.4 acres) are devoted to growing vegetables. From this land comes about 200,000 tons of vegetables.
They take production-of-their-own-food so seriously in British Columbia they've got all-kinds of laws regulating land-use - if the Federal Land Reserve designates some-land as agricultural you'd better-not-mess-with-it - 95% of it is only-fit for gawping-tourists, mountain-climbers, bears, wolves and their prey-animals.
The province's economic mainstay has long been logging and mining. While the coast and certain valleys have mild weather, the majority of the land mass experiences a cold-winter-subarctic climate.
And it is pure-goddess-country - unspoiled natural beauty, untamed-wild and the province's economic-dependence on the land and her natural resources are the very-embodiment of the province's identity.
As with the rest of The Village (Canada), the First Nations got-here first and occupied every nook-and-cranny of the land, including the little-islands off-shore.
This from the People Of The Northwestern Territories website:
Before Europeans arrived and introduced cloth, most coastal people wore minimal clothing. Men went naked when weather permitted and women would wear a simple skirt made of shredded cedar fibre. Both sexes wore woven bark capes and spruce root hats as a protection from the rain.
The basic social unit for First Nations people of the Pacific Coast was the extended family who shared a common ancestor.
It was the Chief's responsibility to ensure that all members of his lineage were adequately provided for. Within the lineage, rank was judged in descending order according to one's relationship to the Chief.
Each family claimed specific rights for themselves including: sites for fishing and shellfish gathering, certain dances and ceremonies, and the use of specific names. Much of the rich ceremonial life of the coastal nations was devoted to recounting the exploits and activities of the various supernatural ancestors. Many of these ceremonies and rites occurred during the winter when people were gathered in the village after a summer of fishing and gathering. The ceremonies were often organised by secret societies whose high ranking members had undergone the required initiation rites.
Crustaceans of Survival
For all the groups of the Pacific Coast, the ocean was the major source of food, providing salmon, halibut and other fishes, shellfish, smelt, crabs, seaweed, and whale. Shellfish like clams, oysters and mussels would be gathered by women, or by the slaves of the higher ranking individuals. Fishing was the occupation of the men of the tribe. Smaller fish were often caught by means of small nets woven of nettle fibres attached to a wooden frame. Other fishing methods include underwater traps, bone and wood hooks, and harpoons.
Every village had a number of slaves belonging to different lineages. In general the slaves were taken during warfare and wealthy lineage slaves would be ransomed while poorer ones would be kept to perform various menial tasks.
The Queen Charlotte Isles were called Haida Gwaii by the natives, meaning, according to you-know-who, [the]Islands of the People. As this is (as-you-know) the cone-of the sign of 'The People' and, as we've come-to-see, islands, you-couldn't get any-more appropriate (for the sign), than-that, so I ain't gonna bother reinterpreting - though it's a penny-to-a-pound they'd come-out the same, or variations thereon.
And it's some-kind-of-beautiful coastline - it stretches for more than 17,000 miles and includes deep, mountainous fjords and about six thousand islands, most of which are uninhabited. I'm leaving-well-alone.... apart-from Vancouver Island, of-course, because the capital-city is on-it, innit. I won't bother interpreting that place-name either because it's named-after some sea-captain or-other. Vancouver Island is separated from the mainland by the Strait of Georgia and Queen Charlotte Strait, and from Washington State, USA (also in-the-cone) by the Juan De Fuca Strait.
First Nations got here first too. The Kwakwaka'wakw's territory includes northern and northwestern Vancouver Island and adjoining areas of the mainland, the Nuu-chah-nulth span most of the west coast, while the Coast Salish cover the southeastern Island and southernmost extremities.
As a result of the warm Japan Current, which crosses the Pacific, coastal British Columbia has a mild, rainy climate. Due to the presence of mountain ranges, the Interior has a semi-arid climate with certain places receiving less than 10 inches rain a year. The temperature in the coastal-areas are above 10 °C, the mildest anywhere in Canada. Rainfall, sometimes relentless heavy rain, dominates in winter because of consistent barrages of cyclonic low-pressure systems from the north, and quite-often heavy snowfalls and below freezing temperatures arrive when modified Arctic air reaches the coastal-areas.
It ain't so balmy inland - the coldest temperature ever-recorded in British Columbia was recorded in Smith River, where it dropped to −58.9 °C.
Across the border (south) the cone of Cancerian Moonlight shines on five US States - all of Washington State, almost all of Oregan, a part-of Montana, about-half of Idaho and a itzy-bitzy-tad of north California.
Roughly 60 percent of Washington's residents live in and around Seattle, the center of transportation, business, and industry along the Puget Sound, an inlet of the Pacific consisting of numerous islands, deep fjords and bays carved out by glaciers. The remainder of the state consists of deep rainforests and mountain-ranges in the west, center, northeast and far southeast, and a semi-arid eastern basin given over to intensive agriculture.
One of the most complete ancient skeletons ever found was dug-up in Washington State, on-which bone-tests show-it to be from around 9000 years-ago, 7300 to 7600 B.C. The findings of the bone-testing triggered a legal clash that dragged-on for nine-years, between scientists, the US gov' and First Nation tribes who say that what-the Pale-Face scientists'-call Kennewick Man is one-of-their ancestors.
The State is named after the president of the same-name, and many-of its' 39 counties are named-after other Presidents or generals or other Europeans, and a few are named-after the First Nations tribes that formerly possessed the land - but I have to remind you that way-back there in olde-England that the north-pointing alignment on its eastern-side, after crossing East Anglia cuts directly-across The Wash - I feel a song coming-on, called from Wash to Wash-ington.... and as-I said there, in England, washing is all-to-do with baptism in holy-water.
The place where nearly-all the Pale-Faces live is called Seattle, which sounds-like an Indian place-name to-me, but I've decided to look-at-it in Anglo Saxon nevertheless. It was named, apparently, by a bunch of European's after one of the Chiefs' whose-land they were appropriating, Chief Se'ah'l. I don't suppose they bothered asking the 'savages' what they called the land around-here. Chief Se'ah'l and his People - the Duwamish Tribe - had husbanded the lady of the land for at-least 4000 years before the Pale Faces came and took-it-all. What is now Seattle has been inhabited since the end of the last glacial period, 10,000 years ago.
Alki Point is the rather-bizarre name of a peninsula and neighbourhood jutting out into Puget Sound - it was the original white settlement in what was to become the city. I have absolutely no-idea why some white European named-it that because the local Indians who happened to live there called it Prairie Point, according to some non-Indian white-man. I reckon that's B.S. - if they called it anything at-all like-that it was Prayer Point (so sue me).
But Alki...? You gotta-wonder who named-it after alchemy and alchemists.... and why? Did they know that alchemy is a regular attendee at every Cancerian flavoured gathering? They DO SAY that America is a Mason-Ruled Nation, after-all.... and did they also know that Washington State and therefore Seattle is, as I've demonstrated, in the cone-of-Moonlight emanating from the ankle of a winged-infant way-back-there in Blighty, the old homeland?
So, to decipher the place-name Seattle, in Anglo Saxon - the first couple-of syllables 'seat' is exactly what it looks-like to our modern-eyes - seat, throne, residence; to-set (of the Sun). It also has the meaning of creation, foundation and composition.
It was indeed the residence of a Great-People - the Duwamish - and as the most western state in the north, the setting-Sun is one-of-the main-attractions around-here - if you can see-it through the smog, that-is. And Sun-set implies that the rule-of-the-mistress-of-night, the Moon, is in-play. Creation and composition relate to the babe-in-the-womb, in process-of composition, creation of the clay-vessel or residence of the human-soul, and the related-themes we've seen-before - houses, waxing-Moons etc, etc.
The Duwamish are still-around too - although not recognized by the U.S. federal government(!) they remain an organized tribe with roughly 500 members as of 2004.
On the matter-of organised-tribes - wolves were hunted to near-extinction in this state some-time in the 1930's - but in 2007 a lactating-female, her-pups and her mate were captured and radio-tagged in Okanogan-County, before being re-released - they're on the 'endangered-species' list, unlike the First Nations.....
Ms Luers, a biologist said that: The species has been gone, in terms of a reproducing animal or species, something that’s actually going to build a population and be a part of our wildlife heritage again, that’s what’s exciting about this. The biologists conducted a “'howling survey' in the area, in search of a wolf pack and heard both adult and juvenile howls in response. She said: howling was the first step. This is the second step (capturing and tagging) the third step will be getting the DNA results.
A couple-of-years later more-wolves and their pups were discovered and the woods of Washington were fair-resounding to the sound of wolves-howling in the night - they reckon they've come-from Alberta - they must be looking for a cleaner environment in which to operate-their tribe's way, and expand. When wolves (and people) live-in and manage the eco-system, all becomes and remains-in a state-of-balance.
'oh' Regan... d'you reign in Oregon?
To the south and in the cone of Cancer is the state called Oregon - Regan is a woman's-name.... based on Regina.
Oregon became the 33rd state on Valentine's Day, Feb' 14, 1859.
The modern-name is based on the Columbia River, which hadn't been 'discovered' at-the-time and was known by the 'mythical' name of the River of the West, and was given the name Ouragon by a European settler (Rodgers) who was petitioning the crown (in England).
At the time, the River of the West was thought to rise in western Minnesota and flow west through the Great Plains. In his petition Rodgers wrote:
The rout (...) is from the Great Lakes towards the Head of the Mississippi, and from thence to the river called by the Indians Ouragon...
The river demarks the border between Washington and Oregon - thus rivers are still deemed important around-here?? This-one certainly is important but for other reasons. it's 1,243 miles in-length and it's fed by (its' tributary) the Snake River (those snakes keep showing-up). The Columbia is the fourth-largest river in the US, and it has the greatest flow of any North American river draining into the Pacific. In recent decades they've put 14 hydro-electric-dams on the Columbia - it's very-important indeed..
They shuffled the letters Ouragon around a little and soon the whole State was known as Oregon, named-after a river. This makes a whole-lotta-sense in the Pre-Babelite (Anglo Saxon) language which the Indians seem-to-have spoken.
'Or,' Oregon's prefix denotes a things antiquity, meaning beginning, front or origin; 'Ora' meanwhile means border, bank, shore; it's also 'ore,' unwrought-metal; the final-syllable 'gon,' means move, proceed, advance, traverse; and happen, turn out, take-place; gain, conquer, effect, observe and exercise.
Salem is the capital of Oregon.
The First Nations who originally inhabited Salem, the Kalapuyans, called the area Chemeketa, which means, sez-the Pale Face, meeting or resting place. That may-be-true - a resting-place is reference to a tomb, after-all, or a cell, house etc, etc.
I'm looking at-it in Pre-babel-ese any-road. The 'sale' part of Salem reveals some new-variations on some Cancerian motifs we haven't seen-for-a-while now - 'segl,' the Anglo Saxon equivalent to 'sale,' the first-syllables, is sail, veil, curtain and a pillar-of-cloud - oo-er - that puts-me-in-mind of the Genesis events..... especially when you know that the original European place-namers called- Salem THAT because-of Genesis itself.
Salem was/is thought to be the original name of Jeru-Salem - being-derived from the semitic, Arabic 'salam' [سَلاَمٌ] and Hebrew 'shalom'[שָׁלוֹם]) meaning peace. The Hebrew Tribes were led across the wilderness to the Promised-Land - to build Jerusalem. The Europeans sailed across the oceans and then the wilderness to build Salem.
I s'pose that the invaders, er... settlers, giving it the name Salem allowed them to feel-more-'justified' in stealing the land from the 'rightful' caretakers - for Oregon was the settlers 'Promised Land' and, like the biblical-Hebrews, they had the gawd-given-right to take-it from the heathens. It belongs to the white-man brother..... Hallelujah, pass-the-ammunition.
The first people of European descent arrived in the area about 1812 - they were animal-trappers, after-the-fur - and the land. About 35-years went-by and the white-man(iac) did-the-nasty to the First-People. In the early 1850s the Kalapuya, along with the other native peoples west of the Cascade Mountains, were removed by the US government through a combination of treaties and force. Most Kalapuya were moved to lovely-places (ghettos) they-called 'reservations,' in the bad-lands of Oregon and Washington.
By-the-way - THIS Salem is not THE Salem of the Wyche-Tryals infamy - that's on the-other coast in Massachusetts, in the Leo-cone. But - while we're skirting-on the-matter-of witches and devils and serpents and-all-that - below the peaks of Idaho's Seven Devils mountains, the Snake River writhes its'-way through the rocks, and cuts a huge-gash in the land that the Pale-Faces call Hell's Canyon. They tried to dam the hell outa-it and succeeded - there's 3 or 4 dams in the canyon generating electricity from water - alchemy I'll-be-bound!
Heading-south across-the State-Line, the north-western-tip of California and its capital city Sacramento just makes-it into the beam-of-Cancerian-light - I guess that affects the whole-State???
To-be-honest, dunno - let's-see (quickly).
California used-to-be in Spain's possession.... the early Spanish adventurers believed that an earthly-paradise existed here, ruled by a Queen called Califia - the evidence is recorded in a 1510 Spanish-work of semi-fiction called the Adventures of Esplandian. Here's a paragraph from Chapter CLVII:
Know ye that at the right hand of the Indies there is an island called California, very close to that part of the Terrestrial Paradise, which was inhabited by black women without a single man among them, and they lived in the manner of Amazons. They were robust of body with strong passionate hearts and great virtue. The island itself is one of the wildest in the world on account of the bold and craggy rocks.
So, you see.... they were looking for a land of beautiful-women, and fully-expected to find it, AND the women (not-to-mention the griffins) when they got-here. It must-have-been a disappointment, to say the least. I suppose the gold and silver in the rocks was a compensation, of-sorts - this IS goldrush territory after-all.
The State-Seal shows a goddess seated on a throne ('officially' Minerva), with 31 stars arrayed in a semi-circle over-head, with a harpoon in-hand, and a shield with an owl on-it and 13 visible-stars (there's 12 on the upper-part & one between the bear's legs!), and she's presiding-over a land-of-rivers, islands and mountains, where there sail four-ships, sheets-full of wind, floating-peacefully about-their-business. Meanwhile, folk with picks dig-down into the earth to extract her precious-ingredients - the gold-panning-rig set-up on the ground looks for-all-the-world like an open-grave, waiting for its resident and headstone, and the men-with-picks - the gold-