April (Eostremonath)

Introduction

This poem explores the month from a farming perspective and draws from ‘The Good Reeve' an Anglo-Saxon farming document.

We know from Bede that in Saxon times, in April the spring goddess handed over to the goddess of fertility Eostre. From whom we get the modern name for Easter together with the fertility hormone oestrogen. This was one of eight major feast days in the calendar.

The two evenings when supernatural and magical powers were at their highest were: the eve of May (Walpurgis) and All Hallows Eve. Until the reformation it was common practice for priests to brew ale and sell it on feast days to raise money (however this may have started after the Saxon era).

Helheim was a cold dark subterranean world.

A furlong is the distance that a team of oxen can plough before needing a rest and thereby set the length of a field. The width (a chains length) was set by the area that could be ploughed in a day. The area defined by a furlong times a chain became an acre.

April (Eostremonath)

Anglo-Saxon, Eostremonath,

Spring vegetables, we shall soweth.

Much ale be drunk, this Eostre feast,

A whole hogs head, brewed by the priest.

Goddess of spring, with sacred hare,

Eostre maiden, art young and fair.

Days art longer, than damp dark nights,

Sacred season, for thy spring rites.

Winter banished, to cold Hellheim,

Ivy quickens, its oaken climb.

Bullace blossom, budding on shoot,

From heat returns, forthcoming fruit.

Fertile spirit, of furlong fields,

Rises again, as winter yields.

With oxen plough, no longer toil,

As shoots spring forth, upon soft soil.

Fire on hill top, beneath starry sky,

Walpurgis night, powers art high.

Raise the great wand, in night time toil,

In wild witch wood, with maiden loyal.

Copyright Andrew Rea Yule 2012 reworked

Hocktide

Introduction to Hochtide

This was a rather fun festival held on the second Monday and Tuesday after Easter.

On the Monday, men captured women and released them for money or a kiss. On the Tuesday, the women would tie up the men and demand a payment before setting them free.

Men, dressed as foreigners, would be tied and lead around the town by the women to collect money for the church, this was the most important of the years collections!

The festival may depict a victory over the Danes.

The festivities were banned under Henry VIII but Elizabeth I reinstated the tradition in 1575, today only Hungerford in Berkshire continues the tradition.

Hochtide

Second Monday after, Easter it were,

A two day street fest, for him and for her.

Henry didn't like, disorder or fun,

Lizzy brought it back, along with the bun.

Festive misrule, chaotic and funny,

Best fun of the year, gathering money.

More than at Yule, or any other time,

So much fun until, it became a crime.

We gathered more, for the church this spring tide,

Hauled men through the streets, with their arms well tied.

Better the women, to tie up the men,

Like a conquered band, of Vikings to them.

Parade them through town, collect a penny,

Without some fun, there wouldn't be any.

Men captured and tied, the women to kiss,

And no one then thought, the least wrong in this.

Women captured and tied, the men to keep,

Give us a penny, we let thee off cheap.

Tutti wenches sold, oranges and sweets,

When those buxom lasses, took to the streets.

Tutti men carried, tutti mace pole,

With Orange Scrambler, all out of control.

Wooden staffs topped, with orange and flowers,

Young lads in the street, showing their powers.

We had so much fun, those brave days of yore,

But these days we be, not so immature.

Having fun in the street, being disquiet,

Thee be arrested, causing a riot.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2010

Eostre (Chant with zest)

Eostre (Chant with zest)

Eostre, Ostara, Ishtar, Hathor,

Goddess of the dawn, mother of spring,

Light conquers darkness, prefect balance,

Hares with eggs of fertility sing.

alternative last line:

Mother Earth’s womb fertility bring.

Or add your own last line!

Return ye Haegtesse

Introduction

This poem employs the somewhat unusual construct of invoking a lesser known Anglo-Saxon mythical group to come to our aid and help defeat the fungus killing our ash trees (chalara dieback).

The Haegtesse were wild, armed supernatural women riding out in a group and causing harm havoc and mayhem! But were also known to help warriors on the battlefield and hinder others.

These Supernatural cavalcades rode loudly over the landscape.

They were also referred to as ‘ða (tha) mihtigan wif’ (the mighty women) and were seen as a cavalcade of riding women shooting its victims.in some documents the word Haegtesse was used as a scan for Wælcyrige, sometimesthe term ‘shield-maidens’ was employed.

From the word Haegtesse we also derive the word 'hag' used in Saxon times to describe a witch.

Return ye Haegtesse

Ye powerful hags, of the Saxon hills,

Rid our ashes of, their terrible ills.

I doth here invoke, and call upon ye,

Ye hags rough ride out, return and help me.

Oh thou cavalcade, of women riding,

Awful shield-maidens, the battle deciding.

Defend our ashes, from fungal attack,

Help us overthrow, chalara dieback.

Tha mihtigan wif, return to us now,

Dreadful Wælcyrige, protect sacred bough.

With ragged garments, and thine linden shield,

Like devils ride out, on tree battle field.

Oh ye Haegtesse, with helmets on head,

Fill our enemies, with thine battle dread.

Ride ye loudly through, fair forests again,

Through heathen sky come, cast out the profane.

May din of thine spears, force fungus to flea,

Thunor's magic spear, from ash the world tree.

Females from beyond, return to help me,

May all sacred ashes, be fungal free!

Copyright Andrew Rea March 2013

March (Hrethmonath)

Introduction to March (Hrethmonath)

In Saxon times March was marked by the triumph of the spring goddess over the winter.

We know from Bede that the goddess honoured this month was Hretha as this is mentioned in his 'on the computation of time'.

References to the work in the fields are taken from 'The Good Reeve' a late Saxon farming handbook. We do not know for sure who Hretha (later known as Erce) fort to defeat 'winter', but from the study of similar Germanic folklore I propose that it may have been the winter goddess Hella. The word 'songal' means 'a handful of corn'. Galdors are spells cast in song.

March (Hrethmonath)

Hrethmonath, be winters end,

Hella's coldness, to hell thee send.

Hretha has won, cold winter's fight,

Day art longer, then darkest night.

First fields full ploughed, harrowed and sown,

Last corn songal, art cast and thrown.

Fertile fields, now made complete,

Barley, peas beans, cabbage and leek.

Yon meads be ploughed, and crop now set,

Labours of thine, tuff toil and sweat.

To thee Hretha, we doth thee bring,

Our offerings, for coming spring.

The goddess of, winter’s battle,

Wakes up pastures, for our cattle.

She who conquers, winter's cold spell,

Returns Hella's, spirit to hell.

Rejoice ye all, the spring goddess,

Least long last lost, thine agelessness.

Thee doth Hretha, springtime us bring,

And to help thee, galdors we sing.

Copyright Andrew Rea December 2012

Here be Dragons

Introduction

The poem outlines a number of place names based on Anglo Saxon words meaning ‘dragon’. All of these places can be traced back to Saxon times, although some have now vanished. The references are cryptic and present the reader at times with a riddle. The reference for tunnels in Draklow for example refer to a ‘shadow factory’ which made principally the engines for war planes during the latter years of WWII. All the locations referred to can be found on maps available on the internet.

Here be Dragons

There be dragons sleeping, under the ground,

Guarding their wyrm bed, not making a sound.

Some towns and villages, long since passed by,

Perhaps their dragon, did cause them to die.

Walmsgate in Lincolnshire, just hamlet left,

Long barrow wyrms bed, was there a great theft?

The village and church, lost in mists of time,

Carried off by Earth dragon, in their prime.

Nottinghamshire Drakeholes, meads of clover,

Where fiery dragons, flew screaming over.

Only hamlet not priory, could withstand,

Dark water tunnel, now cleanses the land.

Nordic wyrm town, had it a water mill,

Lincolnshire South Ormsby, did well until.

Dragon venomed men, and beast with his air,

Till only was hamlet, and church left there.

Wormhill in Derbyshire, what shouldst thee fear?

The last English wolves, did here disappear.

Well dressing each year, cast out the profane,

Wyrma’s Hyll dragon, hast not yet been slain.

Drakelow dragon’s mound, a wyrm bed of yore?

Derbyshire Saxons, named it Dracan Hlaw.

Four miles of tunnels, making dragon’s parts,

Flying war dragon’s, mechanical hearts.

Guarding Epona, Wiltshire Dragon Hill,

Mill, abbey and church, on barrow to kill.

Taken from time, Eccles Beorh disappears,

But white horse has lived, for three thousand years!

Here be Goblins

Introduction to 'Here be Goblins'

Goblins or demons in Old English these were known as scucca. I have found that these are usually associated with hills and mounds, many place names are based on them, some of which have found their way into this poem.

The Old English word scucca has lent itself to a number of fantastic beasts across our landscape the most famous of which is possibly Black Shuck, an East Anglian demon dog. In Lincolnshire tales tell of Shagfoal, a large black donkey.

There are many more…. So perhaps more food for thought and poetry.

However the subject matter appears to have its hazards. While researching places named after scucca I had quite a rough time with various areas of work, its as if a demon were on my back. For example, moments after I opened my research notes document, a plant in my study 2 ½ meters away decided to collapse. This was merely amusing other things however were not been much fun and are too numerous to list. So read this poem if you dare.

PS the gap at the beginning of the last line above just appeared! and despite several attempts to re-post it will not go away or be deleted!

Here be Goblins

Goblins or demons, Scucca art thy name,

Found on hill and mound, thee be styled the same.

Villages they languish, most folk stay away,

Hamlets didst not wax, by night or by day.

Watch out for old Scucca, his spirit lives on,

In ancient landscape, he wilt not be gone.

Shuck shady shadows, Grendel marsh Black Shuck,

Sinister places, his evil to cook.

Goblin-hill hamlet, Shuckburgh Warwickshire,

Hill goblin family, held nine hundred year.

Lower Shuckburgh’s, six sided steeple,

Upper Shuckburgh, has church but no people.

Shobrooke in Devon, long been goblin-brook,

Denoted and known, before Doomsday Book.

Village on high hill, but church stays outside,

When they built the church, did goblin misguide.

Shocklach in Cheshire, goblin haunted bog,

Dragon lord Drogo, with his hunting dog.

It's church dare not come, within mile of village,

With Odin's Slepnir, Vikings may pillage.

Beware of Scucca, he'll lead thee along,

Slow Internet down, Street View icon gone.

He plays tricks on thee, brings thee much bad luck,

Makes things fall apart, until thee say .... Puck.

Copyright April 2012 Andrew Rea

Aelfred

Introduction to “Aelfred”

This poem is set in late Saxon times after the influence of Christianity had caused the demonisation of elves and other Wights of our land.  The elves are now referred to as the dark elves and were thought to be a source of much malignancy and disease. The healer if lacking in the knowledge to effect a cure would go into a trance like state and return with the remedy. Charms were often made up into a pouch and attached to ones person to ward off the influence of such things as elf shot (also known as flying venoms) when going about especially at night or in forests. To understand elf shot compare with the concept of a virus: you can’t see it, feel it, touch it, or smell it but it is/was accepted as a cause of disease. Sometimes one may feel a sudden sharp pain or stitch seemingly for no reason, the explanation might have been that you had been shot by an elf!

NB. Aelfred is made up of two parts: meaning ,’elf wisdom'.

Aelfred

Beautiful spirits, some elves that they be,

Goodly white shining, creatures of the tree.

Slender and tall, billowing long blond hair,

With a glowing brightness, thee canst compare.

But who hath strayed, within thine secrete lair,

Into their glistening eyes, dare thee stare.

With the wisdom of elves, Aelfred his name,

Through elfin influence, became his fame.

At twilight the power, is at its height.

Palpable darkness, creatures of the night,

The shape of shadows, moves silent and black,

On these shady nights, fear elf shot attack.

A charm wilt guard thee, against elfin shot,

Some herbs in flax sheet, sown Into a knot.

Spell casting weapon man, invoking on god,

Conjuring invoking, with oaken rod.

Working his charm, against the nights dark elves,

Into realm of spirit, chanting he delves.

Gathering magical, herbs of full moon,

Chanting and singing, the spell to attune.

Over hill and dale, landscape he has trekked,

The full moons magical, herbs to collect.

Working with yon herbs, in ritual to charm,

Magic signs and deeds, the elf shot disarm.

Elfin charm now well set, and tied in its place,

Attached to thine tunic, to bring thee grace.

With magical strength, and confidence be,

To safeguard us, to the highest degree.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2009

This is the Thyng

Introduction to ‘This is the Thyng’

In 2005/6 local history enthusiasts rediscovered the Old English name of Hanger Hill Thynghowe (= assembly + bronze age burial site) which had been used for public meetings until the 1800s. With the hills original name together with its location within Birklands, OE Birkelunde (= sacred grove with birch trees) the significance of the site became a no brainer. The site is now controlled by English Heritage and represents the only intact Thyng left in England.

This is the Thyng

Birklands Wapentake, in Nottinghamshire,

Name of sacred hill, It did disappear.

Birkelunde it hid, from the Doomsday Book,

Its secret Thynghowe, to shadows it took.

Bronze age barrow site, its meaning mislaid,

For many years more, folk met on its glade.

In Sherwood Forest, was grove with birch trees,

But its name Thynghowe, did locals displease.

In green wood clearing, godly worship planned,

Ancient sacred site, with rune sword in hand.

Wapentakes to meet, site for council things,

A show of weapons, vote with lords and kings.

Marker standing stone, on old maps was named,

Still used as a thyng, this meet place was famed.

Sacred name lost in, recent mists of time,

Gatherings no more, folk no longer climb.

Thynghowe used as meet, for two thousand years,

But Viking elders, it no longer hears.

This Birkelunde hill, much time did withstand,

Thynghowe is the last, intact thing in our land.

Copyright Andrew Rea March 2012

February (Solmonath)

Introduction to ‘February’ (Solmonath)

Solmonath, means mud month,

Saint Bede in his ‘De Temporum Ratione’ (on the computation of time) mentions that the name of the month came about as a result of the cakes the Anglo-Saxons offered to their gods in that month. There are surviving Anglo-Saxon charms that give first hand evidence of such a custom amongst Heathen farmers.

The Earth Mother (Eorthen Mordor) was called Nerthus/Erce and the Sky Father was called Wuldorfadur, or Glory Father.

The sol cakes were planted into the ground as an offering to both Nerthus and Wuldorfador. We have no complete recipe for the cakes, but given that the tradition of ploughing the corn dolly into the ground at the start of ploughing and sowing season was widely observed until modern times it seems possible that the dolly would have been broken up and added to a mixture of some kind, perhaps of flour of various grains, and returned to the ground uncooked to preserve its fertility.

February (Solmonath)

February ploughing, of the field,

Sowing the seed, to bring the yield.

The Anglo-Saxon, month of cakes,

As snow departs, and nature wakes.

Offer to the gods, to give rebirth,

The month, to celebrate the earth.

Hoping to see, the last snowflake,

The season for, Solcakes to Bake.

Earth Mother Nerthus, we implore,

And Sky Father, Wuldorfadur.

Cakes in the ground, we now enchant,

Wish for abundance, you may grant.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2008

Imbolc

Introduction to 'Imbolc'

This is a chant that I wrote for use at Imbolc (Candelmass)

Imbolc (Chant)

Candles burning, Brighids fire,
Signs of spring to my desire,
Wake up Bridie, Crone to Maiden,
Frosty snowdrops, meadows pagan

Copyright Andrew Rea 2006

January Æfterra Geola

Introduction to January (Æfterra Geola = after Yule) Updated

Popular Anglo-Saxon pass times included singing, poetry and storytelling on these long dark nights. Ploughing and sowing were possible during the month but miserable!

Live stock was gathered close to the settlement in order to protect from wolves and facilitate easier feeding in the cold.

Animal guising on the Kalends of January was also popular but banned by Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury in the year 690. (Liber Poenitentialis)

If anyone on the Kalends of January goes about as a stag or a bull; that is making himself into a wild animal and dressing in the skin of a herd animal, and putting on the head of beasts; those who in such wise transform themselves into the appearance of a wild animal,penance for three years because this is devilish.

Similar festivals are also mentioned on the continent. Compare with the Bulgarian early spring festival of Kukeri and the Germanic winter festival of Krampuslauf. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=WLnl5ZWG4tg#!

In these surviving versions of this festival the object of the scary guising is to chase off winter.

Hagtesse were supernatural females that rode out in groups and caused harm.

January (Æfterra Geola)

Beware demon, of winter fear,

First Kalends of, frozen new year.

With just two legs, guised as a stag,

Clad in beast skins, or as a hag.

Beware darkness, for it is here,

Mirror on pond, cut crisp and clear.

Winter wonder, spell of dark cast,

Wassailing feast, feels for long passed.

Beware winter, cold crisp and cruel,

Feasting finished, month after Yule.

First frozen month, of year art here,

Light days wilt soon, be drawing near.

Beware of men, animal heads atop,

Dressed in skins, they jump and hop.

As old woman, Hagtesse guised,

Beware of men, with scary eyes.

Beware of work, in yon hard meads,

Our winter food, must serve our needs.

Wild winter wind, bloweth severe,

Sat around fire, brings us some cheer.

Beware white wolves, we have to guard,

Bring back the beasts, into the yard.

Frosty fields be, firm frozen hard,

Let's make merry, with singing bard.

Beware antlers, on head of man,

Beware the beast, with head of ram.

Beware weapon men, with their head gear,

Beware of death, let's face our fear!

Copyright Andrew Rea 2009 December 2012

Wassail the apple tree

Introduction to ' Wassail the apple tree’

Another Twelfth Night celebration was the ritual of wassailing the apple trees. This tradition was popular in the South of England, especially in the West Country.

The purpose of wassailing is to awake the apple trees and to scare away evil spirits to ensure a good harvest of fruit in the autumn. The tradition faded in the early half of the 20th century, although it still survives in modernised form in about 30 villages or farms, it is now done mainly for profit.

Some do it on Twelfth Night, 5^th January, some on old Twelfth Night, 17^th January. The old way of doing it involved the young men of the village; plough hands, farm labourers etc coming together as a band and going from farm to farm to drink to the health of the leading apple tree. This was mostly done as a way to get drunk for free! In exchange for what would be either mulled cider or ale one would sing to the tree, make libations and dip toast into the wassail and arrange it in the branches of the tree to attract ‘the good spirits’ and no doubt make the robins and sparrows a bit tipsy the next day.

There were regional variations to the songs many of which can be easily found today. From the placing of the toast in the branches of the tree we derive the modern expression ‘to raise a toast’.

 Wassail the apple tree (in West Country accent)

Each year we come, without invite,

Thine apple tree, to wassail thee.

Coldest and darkest, twelfth tide night,

Give up thine cider, now for free.

Here’s health to thee, old apple-tree,

And whence thou mayest, bud and bear.

Old apple tree, we'll wassail thee,

To be merry, another year.

We raise the hallowed, wassail toast,

We hope thee wilt, have apples spare.

Next harvest, double apples boast,

And buckets of, cider to share.

The hallowed toast, in branches placed,

To invite thy, good spirits near.

We hope our brew’s, with spirit laced,

To keep us warm, this time of year.

Libations made, upon the ground,

Here’s health to thee, old apple tree.

We sing to thee, and dance around,

Good spirits we, doth welcome thee.

Contribute to, the wassail bowl,

The cider will, do us no harm.

As night goes on, without control,

We do lumber, from farm to farm.

Let every man, drink up his cup,

And so merry, let us lads be.

We have apple cider, to sup,

To make us lads tipsy, for free.

So don’t forget, the good old ways,

Set thine finest, cider aside.

So we canst our own, tankards raise,

May there be cider, next Twelfthtide.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2011

The thirteenth and last silly dragon

The serpent king rose from his pearly throne,

His invoking spell to intone,

He spun round and round,

Until spell was bound,

And produced a titanic cyclone.

Twelfth Night

Introduction to 'Twelfth Night' (5th January, set in the first half of the 19th century)

Twelfth Night Cake contains a dried pea and bean and is distributed in such a way that a lucky woman finds the pea and lucky man finds the bean and crowned pea queen and bean king aka the lord and lady of misrule (compare Saturnalia). It is their duties to get the party going by telling people to do crazy things including cross dressing and animal guising.

During the 19th century it became normal to take down the festive decorations by Twelfth Night, previously they had stayed up until Candlemas (compare present practices in countries such as Poland and Spain).

In Victorian Britain people would have gathered in a circle about a fire and drunk wassail from a loving cup (wassail bowl), these tended to be large bowls decorated with a foliate pattern and with evergreen leaves woven through the handles around the outside.

The practice was to pass the bowl to ones neighbour with a kiss, the recipient would raise the bowl say 'wassail', people responded with 'drink hail' to encourage imbibing.

Twelfth Night formed the climax to the Yule tide season and brought the festivities to a close, unless you were a farmer when you would not return to the fields until 'Plough  Monday', the first Monday after Twelfth Night.

Twelfth Night

Twelftide, the twelfth day of Yule,

Twelfth Night Cake and festive misrule.

By night fall, all trimmings be down,

The gathering of friends, a night to renown.

Twelfth Night celebrations, now abound,

The lighting of fires, to circle around.

Deck the Wassail bowl, with evergreen,

Receiving the order, of king and queen.

On this night, we drink without stealth,

Old English was hael, to your health.

Drink hail, pass kiss and merry be,

Drink and honour, a wassail to thee.

All drink from the large, wassail bowl,

Festive misrule, all out of control.

Cross dressing and animal guises fool,

What a fine way, to end the Yule.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2007

The twelfth silly dragon

There was a Cockatrice from the east,

That was an unusual beast,

He got up one day,

In the month of May,

And burnt everything up at the Feast.

The eleventh silly dragon

The Cockatrice had to dinner postpone,

Thinking only of goodies he was prone,

A sausage to sizzle,

Some honey to drizzle,

Without food as fuel he couldn't have flown.

The tenth silly dragon

There was a Sea serpent from the west,

That went forth on a great quest,

He was very bold,

But feeling quite cold,

Because in hast he forgot to get dressed.

The ninth silly dragon

The Firedrake got up early from his nest,

To put his strong fiery breath to the test,

He puffed up his lungs,

And stuck out his tongues,

The other dragons were much impressed.