WALPURGIS NIGHT: The Forgotten “Other Halloween” on April 30

While some are celebrating “Halfway to Halloween” or “Half-o-ween” in America because it’s fun, in Germany and other parts of Europe, they’re celebrating what amounts to an actual second Halloween – Walpurgisnacht, or “Walpurgis Night.”

“Walpurgis Night was when, according to the belief of millions of people, the devil was abroad — when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held revel.” – Bram Stoker, from “Dracula’s Guest”

“There is a mountain very high and bare…whereon it is given out that witches hold their dance on Walpurgis night.” – Jacob Grimm, 1883

In the Germanic countries of central Europe, Walpurgis Night falls exactly six months from All Hallow’s Eve (Samhain), creating a perfect dark counterpoint to our familiar Halloween celebrations.

SUMMER AND WINTER: THE ANCIENT DIVIDE

Many ancient cultures divided the year into just two seasons – summer and winter. The boundaries between these seasons were marked by Beltane and Samhain, with Beltane being one of eight solar Sabbats in the pagan calendar.

Since at least medieval times, people believed the veil between the living and dead was thinnest on both Halloween night and the night before Beltane. During these times, not just ghosts, but fairies, shapeshifters, and especially on Walpurgis, witches were at their most powerful and could more easily cross between worlds.

Despite sharing the same date and many customs, there is a distinct difference between Walpurgis and Beltane. At its most basic, Beltane is primarily Gaelic and celebrated on May 1, whereas Walpurgis is Germanic and often celebrated the night before, on April 30th. However, if you could travel back in time to rural communities often isolated from outside contact, you might find little difference between these holidays.

The primary evolution from ancient times to modern history is that Walpurgis developed a distinctly witchy character. During the Middle Ages, Walpurgis concerned itself with protecting against or driving away witches. Today, as fear of witchcraft fades into the past, it’s all about celebrating them.

A HOLIDAY ACROSS NATIONS

Walpurgis celebrations continue throughout Europe – in Germany (its homeland), the Netherlands, Czech Republic, Sweden, Lithuania, Latvia, Finland, and Estonia.

Germanic folklore is rich with tales of witches, and in some regions, the holiday is also known as Hexennacht (from Dutch “Heksennacht”) meaning Witches’ Night.

In Sweden, where the holiday has a particularly vibrant tradition, it’s known as Valborg and heavily celebrates the end of winter and arrival of spring. Traditional activities include singing folk songs and lighting massive bonfires.

“The first of May is a great popular festival in the more midland and southern parts of Sweden. On the eve of the festival, huge bonfires, which should be lighted by striking two flints together, blaze on all the hills and knolls.” – Sir James George Frazer, The Golden Bough

There were practical reasons for these celebrations beyond religious or folkloric traditions. During the Middle Ages, the legal and administrative year ended on the last day of April, making it a community-wide holiday with bonfires, children’s activities similar to trick-or-treating, and traditional dances and songs welcoming spring.

In Finland, Walpurgis (called Vappu or Vappen) borrows from Germanic witch traditions and ranks among the country’s four biggest holidays – it’s essentially Finland’s biggest carnival day, celebrated with considerable alcohol consumption.

Estonia once viewed Walpurgis (Volbriöö) as the night when witches gathered. Today it’s celebrated with carnivals and drinking, often by people dressed as traditional witches – and unlike modern pagan portrayals, there’s no desire to beautify witches. The tendency is to embrace the old stereotype of witch as hag, reflecting countries where witches were once genuinely feared.

In the Czech Republic, winter ends on April 30th with a festival called pálení čarodějnic, which translates to “burning of the witches.” Witch effigies made of rags and straw are burned, and when black smoke erupts from the blaze, celebrants cheer as the witch is said to fly away.

SAINT WALBURGA: FROM NUN TO WITCH GODDESS

The first known mention of “S. Walpurgis Nacht” appears in the Calendarium perpetuum of Johann Coler (1603) and was later mentioned in Johannes Praetorius’ writings in 1668. Translated to English and stripped of Catholic context, Saint Walpurgis Nacht becomes simply Walpurgis Night.

Saint Walburga was an English nun born in Devonshire in 710 and sent as a missionary to Germany to establish churches. She died in Heidenheim on February 25, 777 (as best historians can determine).

Since Walburga’s feast was held on May 1, she became associated with May Day celebrations. The eve of May Day, traditionally celebrated with dancing, came to be known as Walpurgisnacht.

She serves as patron saint of Eichstadt, Oudenarde, Furnes, Antwerp, Gronigen, Weilburg, and Zutphen. Sailors would also call upon her assistance during storms, as would those suffering from hydrophobia.

So how did a Catholic saint become the namesake for a holiday dedicated to witches? Part of the answer lies in the name of Heidenheim, where she served as abbess. The abbey was called Heidenheimer Kloster – literally “Heathen-home Cloister.” Heidenheim was named after a holy spring, Heidenbrunnen, famous for having been where many heathens (or pagans as they’re now called) were baptized.

Her canonization on May 1 came after an unusual occurrence at her burial – her rock tomb began oozing a healing oil declared miraculous by the Church. Her body was subsequently divided and sent throughout France and Germany to spread the miracle.

People still clinging to pagan traditions were already celebrating May 1 in heathen fashion, which the Church frowned upon. But under the pretense of celebrating St. Walburga’s feast day, these celebrations continued.

Stone carvings in chapels dedicated to Walburga contain recurring symbols, particularly a bundle of grain and a dog – symbols more reminiscent of Germanic goddesses than a Catholic saint.

“Nine nights before the first of May is Walburga in flight, unceasingly chased by wild ghosts and seeking a hiding place from village to village. People leave their windows open so she can be safe behind the cross-shaped windowpane struts from her roaring enemies. For this, she lays a little gold piece on the windowsill, and flees further. A farmer who saw her on her flight through the woods described her as a white lady with long flowing hair, a crown upon her head; her shoes were fiery gold, and in her hands she carried a three-cornered mirror that showed all the future, and a spindle, as does Berchta. A troop of white riders exerted themselves to capture her. So also another farmer saw her, whom she begged to hide her in a shock of grain. No sooner was she hidden than the riders rushed by overhead. The next morning the farmer found grains of gold instead of rye in his grain stook. Therefore, the saint is portrayed with a bundle of grain.” – E.L. Rochholz, 1870

This description sounds less like a matronly Catholic saint and more like a Germanic goddess. The connection strengthens when examining the dog symbol associated with Walburga. Germanic goddesses were often connected to dogs (the Hilfstier), similar to a witch’s familiar. In some regions, simply speaking Walburga’s name was believed to calm an angry dog.

The spindle and grain mentioned in Rochholz’s writings connect to Germanic gods and spring fertility celebrations. Even the “miraculous” slime from her tomb reminded people of the dew that dripped from the manes of Valkyries’ horses.

BLOCKSBURG: THE WITCHES’ MOUNTAIN

“The Witches’ excursion takes place on the first night in May…they ride up Blocksberg on the first of May, and in 12 days must dance the snow away; then Spring begins… Here they appear as elflike, godlike maids.” – Jacob Grimm

The Harz Mountains lie between the rivers Weser and Elbe in central Germany. The tallest peak in these wooded hills, standing just over 1,140 meters, is Blocksburg (also called Brocken). This mountain became the geographic epicenter of Walpurgisnacht traditions.

Witches have been associated with Blocksberg since Charlemagne’s time, though in reality, they were likely just people honoring the old religion and worshiping pagan gods. The remote, rugged location provided privacy – crucial during years when unauthorized worship could result in being burned at the stake.

Blocksburg remains snow-covered much of the year, with the snow finally melting in May. Perpetually shrouded in mist and fog up to 300 days annually, the frigid, inhospitable mountain features twisted, gnarled, moss-covered trees shaped by constant winds. Strange rock formations bear poetic names like the Devil’s Pulpit and the Witch’s Altar.

Then there’s the Specter of the Brocken – when walking on the mountain at sunset, your shadow becomes magnified and projected onto low-lying clouds or mist, often with a rainbow or halo around the head. Legend tells of a climber who, startled by what appeared to be a haloed figure approaching from the mist (actually his own shadow), lost his balance and fell to his death on the rocks below.

Old pagan myths claim that on April 30th, a devil named Wotan married his love Freya on the Brocken. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe incorporated these myths into his famous play, Faust:

Now to the Brocken the witches ride;
The stubble is gold and the corn is green;
There is the carnival crew to be seen,
And Squire Urianus will come to preside.
So over the valleys our company floats,
With witches a-farting on stinking old goats.

Goethe drew on folklore and legends that spoke of witches gathering atop the Brocken by night to celebrate and show devotion to Satan through highly sexualized rituals. He considerably tempered these legends in his work, downplaying the sexual elements.

Bram Stoker, author of Dracula, also wrote about Walpurgis Night in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” depicting an Englishman who ignores warnings and ventures out in Munich on Walpurgis Night:

“Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people, the devil was abroad – when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held revel…It took all my philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all my courage, not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright.” – Bram Stoker, “Dracula’s Guest and Other Weird Tales”

TRADITIONS AND FOLK MAGIC

Like May Day celebrations, dancing – particularly around fires – is a staple of Walpurgis Night. The lady of the house would traditionally leap over her broom, and farmers believed grain would grow as high as they could jump on this night.

Walpurgis Night fires served multiple purposes. It was considered good luck to burn items that had worn out over the previous year. Straw effigies were created to embody illness, disease, melancholy, or bad luck, then burned in the night’s fires.

To avoid bad weather and ensure good crops, people would leave offerings of bread with honey and butter for the Ankenschnitt (Windhound).

To ward off witches and other supernatural entities, children gathered greenery from ash, hawthorn, juniper, and elder trees to hang around houses and barns – ironically, the same practice once used to honor goddesses was later used to repel witches.

For those who wanted to glimpse witches rather than avoid them, wearing clothes inside-out while walking backwards to a crossroads was said to make them visible. Alternatively, wearing a wild radish would grant the same ability.

Love potions were believed especially potent on Walpurgis Night, and divination worked better as well. One tradition involved sleeping with one stocking on, then checking it the next morning – finding a single hair would indicate your future spouse’s hair color.

Another divination method:

“Thread, I pull thee;
Walpurga, I pray thee,
That thou show to me
What my husband’s like to be.”

The thread’s strength or texture would reveal the future husband’s disposition.

Dew collected on May Day morning was said to make girls who washed in it beautiful:

“The fair maid who on the first of May
Goes to the fields at break of day
And washes in dew from the hawthorn tree
Will ever after handsome be.”
– Encyclopedia of Superstitions

THE MEANING BEHIND THE CELEBRATION

In ancient times, winter was a brutal season for survival. Good crops and neighborly goodwill were essential. With less fieldwork during winter months, people worked simply to stay alive. No wonder communities celebrated wildly when spring arrived.

Walpurgis Night was the final farewell to darkness before light returned to the land. Both Walpurgis and Beltane contain elements of raw, unbridled sexuality – spring being the ideal time for mating. A woman who conceived during this time would only be five months pregnant when harvest began in October, meaning she wouldn’t struggle through summer’s labor while heavily pregnant.

Fertility celebrations often involved various forms of excess. Even when sexual overtones were downplayed, Walpurgis Night remained a time for drinking and revelry in many regions.

Goddesses associated with fertility were celebrated during this time, with crop fertility magically transferred to people (or perhaps vice versa). The arts of wise women and cunning folk were considered especially potent during this period when seeds sprouted, animals mated, and the world transitioned from winter’s darkness to spring’s light.

As literacy was uncommon, traditions passed through oral storytelling, creating variations in how events were understood based on individual perspectives, loves, fears, and prejudices.

When old gods faded into the background, the collective memory sought substitutes. The Church provided saints and holy days, transferring the attributes of ancient deities to Catholic saints whose feast days coincided with pagan celebrations.

And so Saint Walburga assumed the mantle of ancient goddesses like Nehalennia, Nerthus, Holda, and Berchta. Over time, as pagan practices were further suppressed, those still honoring old ways retreated to remote locations.

Thus, Walburga – an English woman who traveled to Germany for Christian mission work – paradoxically absorbed the identity of Holga, a Germanic goddess, and became branded as a witch in popular lore and celebration.