Faces of the Goddess Magazine SGC 21

he Cailleach in Her Hare Form by Jude Lally
102
priestesses who honored an Ancient Mother
Goddess. These tales tell of deer that become
women and shift again to deer form. He sees
a folk memory within this transformation in
which the priestess would perform this rite
three times with a hide of deer with antlers
and hooves attached. (4)
Were these priestesses of the Cailleach, who
took the form of her Fairy Cattle, or perhaps
these were the fairy cattle, which had the
magical ability to take human form?
I know of some wise women who led their
people as they followed great herds of reindeer
in Scotland in the time of the ice. These were
women who shape shifted to head out over the
land and run with the herd - but that’s a story
for another time.
The Cailleach as the Butter Stealing Hare
The stories I know of the crone as shapeshifting
hare are Irish, it’s not too far off my
Scottish path as I am half Irish. My mother
is Scottish (by one generation) and my father
Irish. I’ve always been here on the edge, on the
threshold, not fully Scottish and not fully Irish
- somewhere in-between, although I am firmly
at home on Scottish soil.
The hare is Ireland’s oldest mammal, if you
catch a glimpse of her it’s often at dawn or
twilight, those most magical times and there
are many threads, which weave the hare and
the Otherworld together.
Bealtaine is a time associated with butter
making, which was one of the most prized
profitable products, so the entire making
process was carried out with several protective
charms. You’d be most concerned at the idea
of a shapeshifting crone, who could take the
form of a hare, and was able to sucking that
liquid gold straight from the cow.
Now the Cailleach in her hare form was
impervious to ordinary bullets and so it took
a bullet made from a silver sixpence to shoot
her. There are stories of many farmers who
followed the then limping hare, often leading
to a cottage. The trail of blood drops lead him
into the cottage where more often than not an
old woman was sitting by the fire nursing an
injured leg. (5)
This is the end of our short journey with a
few tales of the Cailleach. Normally I engage
with the stories with art and ritual, all shared
within community so we can share our
insights and ideas. We need stories to live by
and while our current age swamps us with
information, it is short on wisdom; we need all
the stories we can gather.
One of the Cailleach’s winter roles is in
striking life down, sending it back to its roots
- for if there is no death in winter then there
can’t be any spring rebirth.
We too need to return to our roots. I’m
heartened to see a huge surge of interest in the
Cailleach within the last few years. Hopefully,
we can view her as a midwife, assisting in a
much-needed rebirth as we send our roots
down to be fed by rich spiritual bedrock.