Wind in Russian Folk Belief
ENCYCLOPEDIA OF RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS
WIND, WIND SPIRIT, WIND POWER, WINDY MAN
In Russian folk belief, the wind could be understood as a living, animate force: a personified spirit of the wind, or a being able to summon it.
"It came with the wind, and it went with the wind"; "Ask the wind for advice, will there be an answer?"; "You cannot catch the wind in the field"; "If the wind gets furious, it will tear the roof off a bachelor's hut."
Dal, 1880.
In beliefs, wind often appears as a living being. North Russian *byilichki* (folk tales about supernatural encounters) and incantations mention the Wind Tsar, twelve winds, and twelve whirlwinds; twelve winds are chained to a rock in the middle of the ocean, and when one of them breaks free, a storm begins (Arkhangelsk province). Residents of Vologda province believed that the wind was a living creature, sitting at the edge of the sky on a chain. In Astrakhan province, the northwest wind was called "Grandfather in a Torn Hat," and fishermen of the Russian North (Olonets province) imagined the north wind as a severe old man.
In Novgorod province, it was believed that winds were produced by angels, whom God placed at the four cardinal points of the world, "they blow in turns: one gets tired of blowing, another begins; that is why the wind comes from different directions. When a cold wind blows for a long time, one should pray to the quiet angel (located in the south) to blow and overcome the cold wind." "A gentle wind comes from the breath of angels, a stormy one from the Devil" (Vologda province).
Winds could be depicted as boys carried by angels (illustrated apocalypses of the 16th-18th centuries). In Last Judgment paintings, "an angel brings a storm upon sinners, i.e., wind with thunder and lightning. The wind is depicted, according to the traditions of ancient Christian art, as a boy with a halo around his head, blowing into a trumpet. An angel holds this symbolic boy in his hands."
Buslaev, 1862(1).
In riddles, wind is most often depicted as resembling a fast-moving person but one without hands or feet: "Without hands, without feet, it roams the field, sings and whistles, breaks trees, bends grass to the ground." It is invisible and reveals itself with a whistle; it is "a stallion that the whole world cannot hold back." In Novgorod province, the wind was called "crooked-handed."
A horse, a rider, and simply a "flying man" are traditional guises of the wind in Russian beliefs; however, the wind is so overflowing with life and diverse powers that it often is not endowed with a clear, distinctly described form; it is animated, it is "alive." In Nizhny Novgorod province, it was said that the wind "seizes" the damned, and Astrakhan fishermen asked the wind: "Holy air, help us!"
Interestingly, in folk tales, the "elusive wind" can be the cause of conception: it "inflates the belly" of a princess imprisoned in a tower (through a crack): "When the Tsar found out, he became very angry. He came to the tower and began to scold her: 'From where,' he said, 'did you conceive?' And the boy in her belly spoke up: 'I,' he said, 'am from the Wind.'" (Onega region).
Wind, especially strong wind, is by its nature a powerful but unpredictable being. It sometimes harms, sometimes helps. In one folk song, it is sung: "The wind-power did not wish to crown our happiness with marriage" (Oryol province). A bereaved daughter, wailing at her father's grave, addresses the winds: "Rise up, violent winds, from the eastern side. / Scatter, violent winds, mother damp earth, uncover the coffin lid. / Arise, arise, dear father, go, dear father, to the fast river Danube. / Wash, dear father, your white hands and your white face, / Speak, dear father, with me, an orphaned and bitter girl." (Perm province).
"A favorable wind" was a guarantee of success in sea travel or fishing: "When traveling by water, they pray to Saint Nicholas and at the same time throw bread into the water for a fair wind — so that a tailwind blows" (Arkhangelsk province). In the Pomorye region of Kem Uyezd, before the industrial workers returned home from the Murmansk coast, women from the entire village would go to the sea to pray to the wind not to be angry and to grant an easy journey to their dear seasonal workers. For this, they would first pray to crosses, which were erected in large numbers along the entire White Sea coast. The night after the pilgrimage, everyone would go to the bank of their village river and wash cauldrons there; then they would hit a weathercock with a log to draw a favorable wind, and at the same time, they would try to recall and count twenty-seven (three times nine) bald men among their acquaintances in one volost, and even in the village, if possible. (During this, notches were made on splinters with charcoal or a knife, and a cross was drawn when the last name was pronounced.)
With these splinters, all the women of the village would go to the backyards and shout as loudly as possible: "Time to draw the eastern wind and the midday wind! Time to abandon the west and the mischievous wind! All twenty-seven bald men counted, recounted; the eastern bald one has gone ahead!" With these last words, they would throw a splinter over their heads, facing east, and immediately sing: "For the eastern wind and the midday wind, I will cook porridge and bake pancakes; but for the west and the mischievous wind, I will bare my back. The eastern wind and the midday wind have a good wife, but the west and the mischievous wind's wife has died!"
Upon finishing this chant, they would quickly look at the thrown splinter: the direction in which it lay in a cross formation indicated from which side they expected the wind. But if it again foretold an unfavorable wind, they would resort to a final, ancient remedy: they would place a cockroach on a woodchip and release it into the water, chanting: "Go, cockroach, to the water, raise, cockroach, the north wind!" (Arkhangelsk province).
Yefimenko, 1878.
According to the residents of Vodlozero, "winds ride on troikas and blow, raising either a tailwind or a headwind."
If the favorable wind blows weakly (so that the sail does not swell), they pronounce the following incantation:
Grey-steeds, bay-steeds,
Prophetic ravens,
Help me, my friends,
Give me aid.
As you listened to my grandfather,
As you listened to my father,
Serve me as well
In true faith, with strong might.
If the favorable wind blows too strongly, it is asked: "Stop, look how wild you've grown: what is wrong with you! Quiet down!" (at the same time they take off their hat, but if the wind does not weaken, they shake a fist at it) (Olonets).
In Arkhangelsk Province, guests arriving from the sea were called "windy ones."
Beliefs existed according to which "millers at windmills are on friendly terms with the Wind, just as millers at watermills are friends with water devils" (Oryol). In a story recorded in the Oryol region, a poor old woman "who made her living by begging" went to a windmill to ask for flour and always bowed to the ground, greeting the Wind: "Hello to you, Wind, brave young fellow!" "Once she begged a bowl of flour and walked home. It was winter; the road was narrow. A rich peasant came toward her with several sledges of rye to grind at the mill. The old woman stepped aside as much as she could, but the rich man still shoved her with a sledge shaft; she flew into the snow, the flour spilled out of the bowl, and the old woman trudged home with her empty bowl. Distressed, she said: 'No one will stand up for poor me! If only you, Wind, brave young fellow, would stand up for poor old me.' Arriving home, she saw a young man sitting at her place; she bowed to him. The young man said: 'Grandmother, you wept to me along the road, and so I have come to say that I remember all your bows and will pay you for them, a measure of flour for each one, and you shouldn't go to the mill anymore.' From that time on, the old woman lived comfortably, eating pies every day. The Wind showered her with flour of all kinds" (Oryol peasants believed that if you do not give to a poor person during rye threshing, the wind will "take ten times as much").
When addressing winds in incantations, people usually tried to enlist their support: "Oh you, father winds, father whirlwinds, serve me faithful service!" (Perm). Interestingly, love spells, rather than hunting or farming spells, are often addressed to the winds: "On the sea, on the Ocean, on the island of Buyan live three brothers, three winds: one northern, another eastern, the third western. Blow in, bring in, winds, sorrow and longing to the servant of God [name], so that without the servant of God [name] she would not pass a day, nor spend an hour. My word is strong" (Voronezh).
In Novgorod Oblast, a "spell for a husband" mentioning winds was recorded:
From twelve early mornings
Fly in, twelve cold winds,
Carry my sorrow and grief to my husband [name],
So that he thinks of and does not forget his wife.
In Vyatka Province, a wind spirit (*vetrenik*) is a playful spirit that bursts into the cottage in winter with clouds of steam. Usually, however, the unpredictable, dual wind is dangerous.
According to widespread beliefs, a pestilence or epidemic can be brought by the wind and even be the wind itself, hence the names for epidemics—"pestilential winds" (*povetrye*): the cause of acute contagious diseases is God's punishment or an "evil wind" (Vologda). A "bad wind" is the source of many infectious diseases <Popov, 1903>.
There are a whole series of illnesses caused or brought by the wind, "from the wind." These are chickenpox, "windy affliction" (Yaroslavl, Vologda), "windy sickness" or "wind disease"—"diseases from a bad wind" (Arkhangelsk, Tobolsk, Irkutsk), "wind-spread disease" (Novgorod), "whirling plague" or "sweeping plague" (Vologda)—diseases spread by winds; pestilential wind—plague; "flying rash"—chickenpox and similar rashes; "windy fracture"—acute joint rheumatism <Vysotsky, 1911>.
Not only epidemic diseases could be considered as coming "from the wind," but also hernias, ulcers, strokes, abscesses, tumors, general and vague illnesses, "tricks and strokes," "griefs and sorrows."
In the peasants' view, an illness from an unknown cause "attaches itself from the wind"; incantations mention a "wind-borne ulcer"; with the help of the wind, sorcerers and witches can spread evil spells: "A sorcerer will walk upwind... so that you stand downwind, and he will send it at you with this wind" (Vyatka); "A sorcerer sees a passing peasant, blows on him—and it is done" (Penza).
In a story from Perm Province, a "frightful sorcerer" (*volkhit*) sends a tumor (*kila*) on the wind: "He whispered something onto a stick and blew on the tip, so that the tumor would fly on the wind and settle on someone."
A harmful spoken word, an evil spell (*urok*), or a disease carried by the wind is often depicted in beliefs and incantations as a wind or an arrow (the word *urok* comes from "speech," "to speak"—meaning "spoiling" or "bad word"); "a powerful word, an evil spell, is naturally [represented] through the connection between an arrow and the wind" <Potebnya, 1914>. A person who sends evil spells and illness on the wind could be called "windy," and one of the illnesses "from the wind" was called "arrows" or "arrow-sickness" (*strel'ye*): "This illness reveals itself through sudden shooting pains throughout the sick person's body and ends in death. However, it is not always fatal, depending on how it was 'sent.' According to popular opinion, arrows are sent by a sorcerer in two ways: 1. for revenge against a specific person; 2. simply for pleasure at any name. Arrows of the first kind are fatal, while the latter are not as dangerous. Everyone who has experienced this illness assures that when treating it by rubbing the body, pieces of glass and deer hair come out of it. Their presence is explained by the very action of how the arrows are shot. Namely: the sorcerer takes an empty cow horn, fills it with sand, hair, and glass fragments, then speaks an incantation, stands in the direction of the wind, and, placing the narrow opening of the horn to his mouth, blows into it."
"All these substances fly out; the wind catches them and, in that same instant, carries the sickness to a person doomed in advance to receive it by an evil sorcerer. If the arrows were ordinary—that is, not shot to avenge a grievance—then anyone who happens to be met first is subject to them" (Arkhangelsk) <Vereshchagin, 1849>.
Cases of "casting an enchantment (malice/harm) on the wind," among others, were examined in the Moscow courts of the 17th century. The sorcerer Yashka Salautin recounted: "I would cast the malice from my mouth, letting it out on the wind towards the smoke of anyone I saw, even from afar." The sorcerer Tereshka Malakurov "began to cast it on the wind at a dog." At close range, the malice was transmitted through a simple breath. In 1676, a woman from Dobryn, Arinka, wishing to "harm" the priest’s wife, sought the help of her mother-in-law; the latter taught her: "When the priest's wife leaves the house, you go to meet her and quietly whisper a spell, and blow on her, and she will be struck by a faint" <Cherepnin, 1929>.
In a story recorded not long ago on the Tersk Coast of the White Sea, this "casting" is both airborne and entirely material at the same time: "I was guarding the museum. And it was such a quiet evening... And then, on the graveyard side, it started to whistle and flew across the river. And when I came home, my leg began to ache. Later, someone told me: 'A casting flew by and grazed you a little. It was flying to the other side, down low.'"
Like the wind, the "wind-borne" malice in folk belief can be unpredictable: malice in the form of a spell given in food or drink invariably enters the body of the one to whom it is "given," but that which is cast on the wind or water goes to "whomever it lands upon" <Popov, 1903>.
According to the beliefs of the Vologda region, "wind-borne swellings" seem to constantly move through the air, becoming particularly dangerous during an "unlucky" time: "There are three bad minutes in a day. When you leave the house in the morning, you must say: 'Whoa-swelling, whoa-swelling, whoa-swelling.' Because it is unknown which minute you will encounter (from a swelling cast on the wind)."
Healing illnesses brought by the wind could include an offering (a gift) to the wind spirit who caused them, accompanied by an appeal: "Master, dear father, forgive your servant and handmaiden. Here is bread and salt for you and a low bow from God’s servant [name]! You, and the crossroad spirit, and the 'pood-weight' [terrifying] spirit, you, the yard spirit, and the northern, and southern, and western, and eastern, and forest, and field, and water, and night, and midnight, and day, and noon spirits, and all of you, forgive me, a sinner" (Smolensk). It was necessary to recite the incantation three times while circling a "crust" (a heel of bread) around the patient's head, and then place the crust to the left of the patient, "no lower than the height of the patient's knee"—specifically for the wind-spirit (Smolensk).
To treat a "wind-casting," Arkhangelsk peasants "take water from three ice-holes or wells, with which they douse the patient three times. When drawing the water, they always swirl it in a clockwise direction, and after drawing it, they say: 'River King! Give me unagitated water, for relief, for the health of God’s servant [name]!'" When carrying the water, one does not greet or speak to anyone met on the way.
Onions, garlic, and radishes also help against "malice cast on the wind"—"it is said the unclean force does not like the smell of onions and garlic" (Vologda, Vyatka, Kostroma) <Popov, 1903>.
In folk belief, the "living" wind, the air-borne contagion, and the wind spirit (that causes or brings sickness) are often difficult to distinguish. It is some kind of rushing and vanishing puff, a gust of wind, designated only by the names "wind," "wind-born," or "windy" (a windy spirit of indefinite appearance, who in an old incantation is chased away "under a bush and under a hill").
The wind is not merely an independent living creature. It accompanies the forest spirit, the dead, and the unclean force of vague appearance, the devil, who themselves call forth the wind or become it.
In the perceptions of peasants in the 19th and 20th centuries, the forest spirit is sometimes overshadowed by the wind or a whirlwind—the "master" of the forest. One of the most common appearances of the forest spirit is a horse flying "like the wind," a rider, or a coachman driving a troika of swift dead horses.
Air is a necessary condition for the existence of all things; wind is the movement of air, the "sigh," the breath of the world, "with the cessation of whose action in nature, everything seems to fall asleep" <Sobolev, 1913>. At the same time, it is the expiration of a human, the pledge of their life: "The soul, after leaving the body and before reuniting with it, is wind" <Potebnya, 1914>.
The soul (or more precisely, the undying vital essence, which in the peasant consciousness is usually identical to a material, only more "airy" and "flying" form of a person) "is spirit, air, wind." "Just as the Latin *animus* corresponds to the Greek *anemos*—wind—so too our *spirit* and *soul* are in a cognate relationship with the words *to blow*, *air*, *smoke*..." <Nikiforovsky, 1875>.
The apocryphal "Conversation of the Three Saints," popular among Russian peasants, states that Adam had "body from the earth, blood from the sea, eyes from the sun, bones from stone, thoughts from the cloud, warmth from fire, breath from the wind, and the Lord Himself breathed the spirit."
In Russian beliefs of the 19th and 20th centuries, primary attention is still given not so much to the "soul as a breath," but to the strong wind and the whirlwind. It is understood as the embodiment of the soul (or a "post-mortem form") of the dead who are endowed with special, supernatural powers (those who died by hanging, drowning, or excessive drinking).
In the beliefs of the 19th and 20th centuries, the wind is dualistic and can act independently, not only through the medium of the unclean force; it is more omnipresent and unpredictable than it is inherently malevolent.
Marina Vlasova