How the blog works

The poems on this blog are mostly written on the basis of my historical reading and are intended to be both educational and entertaining.
Recently I have also begun posting some of my work with Anglo-Saxon charms. This work is somewhat speculative and is conducted as an amateur researcher and keen Pagan historian.

Please feel free to use anything on this site as a resource if you think that it may be relevant to your needs.

Sunday 9 February 2014

Leechbook III LXII - 1, 2 and 3 Against Aelfadle

Three charms found in Leechbook III all against a sickness caused by elves (aelfadle). I have simply replaced certain references to former Christian inclusions, the green bits. The translated original text is included at the end for reference.

The Paganised reconstruction:

Leechbook III LXII - 1 Against aelfadle 
Against aelfadle; take bishopwort, fennel, lupin,
the lower part of enchanters nightshade, and moss or
lichen from an earth fast stone and incense,
of each a hand full; bind all the worts in a cloth, dip
it thrice in hallowed water, have sung over
it three galdors. Then
put gledes in a glede pan, and lay the worts on: reek
the man with the worts before nine in the morning,
and at night, and sing three galdors and write a rune on each of
his limbs, and take a little hand full of worts of the
same kind similarly hallowed, and boil in milk, drop
thrice some hallowed water into it, and let him sip of it
before his meat; it will soon be well with him.

Leechbook III LXII – 2
For that ilk. Go on Thursday evening, when the sun is
set, where thou knowest that helenium stands, then
sing the " three galdors,
and stick thy knife into the wort, make it stick
fast, and go away: go again, when day and night just
divide (In early morning) at the same period go first to the grove and
and commend thyself to thy God; then go in
silence, and though anything soever of an awful sort or
man a meet thee, say not thou to him any word, ere
thou come to the wort, which on the evening before
thou markedst; then sing the three galdors, delve up the wort, let the knife
stick in it; go again as quick as thou art able to
the grove, and lay it under the altar with the knife; let
it lie till the sun be up, wash it afterwards, and
make into a drink, and bishopwort, and lichen off an earth fast stone;
boil in milk thrice, thrice pour holy water
upon it, and sing over it the three galdors plus one,
and score with a sword round about it on three
sides a rune, and then after that let the man drink
the wort; soon will it be well with him.

Leechbook III LXII – 3
Again for that; lay these worts under the altar, have nine galdors
sung over them, incense, holy salt, three heads of
cropleek, the netherward part of enchanters nightshade,
helenium; take in the morning a cup full of milk,
drop thrice some holy water into it, let the man sup
it up as hot as he can: let him eat therewith three
bits of enchanters nightshade, and when he hath a
mind to rest, let him have in his chamber coles, let
him lay on the στνραξ (Styrax - used as incense) and elfthone, and reek
him therewith till he sweat, and reek the house all
through; earnestly also sign the man a rune
and when he is going to bed, let him eat
three bits of helenium, and three of cropleek, and three
of salt, and let him have a cup full of ale, and thrice
drop holy water into it; let him sup up each bit, and
afterwards rest himself. Let him do this for nine
mornings and nine nights, it will soon be well with

him. 

The Christianised version:

Leechbook III P345 LXII -1
Against elf disease; take bishopwort, fennel, lupin,
the lower part of enchanters nightshade, and moss or
lichen from the hallowed sign of Christ, and incense,
of each a hand full ; bind all the worts in a cloth, dip
it thrice in hallowed font water, have sung over
it three masses, one "Omnibus Sanctis,"  another
"Contra tribulationem," 2 a third "Pro infirmis" Then
put coles in a cole pan, and lay the worts on: reek
the man with the worts before nine in the morning,
and at night, and sing a litany, and the credo, and
the Pater noster, and write Christs mark on each of
his limbs, and take a little hand full of worts of the
same kind similarly hallowed, and boil in milk, drop
thrice some hallowed water into it, and let him sip of it
before his meat; it will soon be well with him.

Leechbook III LXII - 2
For that ilk. Go on Thursday evening, when the sun is
set, where thou knowest that helenium stands, then
sing the " Benedicite," and " Pater noster," and a litany,
and stick thy knife into the wort, make it stick
fast, and go away: go again, when day and night just
divide (In early morning) at the same period go first to church and
cross thyself, and commend thyself to God; then go in
silence, and though anything soever of an awful sort or
man a meet thee, say not thou to him any word, ere
thou come to the wort, which on the evening before
thou markedst; then sing the Benedicite, and the Pater
noster, and a litany, delve up the wort, let the knife
stick in it; go again as quick as thou art able to
church, and lay it under the altar with the knife; let
it lie till the sun be up, wash it afterwards, and
make into a drink, and bishopwort, and lichen off a
crucifix; boil in milk thrice, thrice pour holy water
upon it, and sing over it the Paternoster, the Credo,
and the Gloria in excelsis deo; (Luke ii 14) and sing upon it a
litany, and score with a sword round about it on three
sides a cross, and then after that let the man drink
the wort; soon will it be well with him.

Leechbook III LXII – 3
Again for that; lay these worts under the altar, have nine masses
sung over them, incense, holy salt, three heads of
cropleek, the netherward part of enchanters nightshade,
helenium; take in the morning a cup full of milk,
drop thrice some holy water into it, let the man sup
it up as hot as he can: let him eat therewith three
bits of enchanters nightshade, and when he hath a
mind to rest, let him have in his chamber gledes, let
him lay on the coles στνραξ (Styrax - used as incense) and elfthone, and reek
him therewith till he sweat, and reek the house all
throug; earnestly also sign the man with the sign of
the cross, and when he is going to bed, let him eat
three bits of helenium, and three of cropleek, and three
of salt, and let him have a cup full of ale, and thrice
drop holy water into it; let him sup up each bit, and
afterwards rest himself. Let him do this for nine
mornings and nine nights, it will soon be well with
him. 

Saturday 1 February 2014

Ode to a Vegi Rissole

Introduction

On Burns Night it is a custom to read poems by the bard during the course of the dinner, it is not unknown for someone at the table to declare that they have recently found an unpublished lost poem from the bard. 

Well I recently discovered this going through my great uncle's things, who like me was a vegetarian. It was clearly penned by the bards hand and may remind you of another of his great poems. I shall leave you to ponder the implications.

Ode to a Vegi Rissole

Fair be thine honest merry face,
Great lord of the vegetable race,
Above them all you take your place,
Grated carrot, courgette and oats.
Well be thee worthy of a grace,
To sliver down our throats.

The groaning platter there thee fill,
Thine buttocks like a distant hill,
Thine spatula would repair a mill,
In time of need.
Thine juices emerge, what a thrill,
It is to see you bleed.

Thine knife be ready for the rite,
And cuts you up without a fight,
Digging into thine gushing insides bright,
Like any witch.
And then, oh what a glorious sight,
Warm, steaming, rich.

Then, with silver weapons they strive,
Devil take the last man, on they drive,
Until their swollen bellies arrive,
Are stretched like drums.
But now who’s belly wilt survive,
When the time comes.

There be that loose French Ragout,
Or soya that would sicken a sprout,
Or fricassee would make them shout,
This be no winner!
Looks down with a sneering scornful doubt,
On such a dinner.

Poor devil, see him over his blush,
As weak as a withered rush,
His spindle-shank reduced to mush
His clenched fist extremely split.
Through a bloody battle field to crush,
Oh how unfit.

But note the rissole fed St George,
fashioned in the vegan forge,
Clasped in his hefty fist to gorge
He'll make it whistle.
Its savoury innards to disgorge,
Like the tops of thistles.


Thee powers who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Old England wants no watery ware,
That splashes in the bowl.
But if you wish her grateful prayer,
Gie her a vegi rissole!


Copyright Andrew Rea 2009

Saturday 25 January 2014

Evocation of John Barleycorn

Evocation of John Barleycorn

By the firm earth beneath my roots.
By the sap rising in my long shank,
By the breeze in my supple sheaves,
By the fullness of my cornels,
By the might of my burly beard,
I here stand proud before thee.

Standing tall and straight, thee do me adore,
Sudden end with sharp blade, as if to war.
My neck wilt be cut, with greatest of care,
My spirit set free, by they who doth dare.

With a flying scythe, falling to the ground,
Into a great sheaf, to be twisted and bound.
To be poured from a jug, into a long horn,
To be reborn as ale, thee shalt not mourn.


Copyright Andrew Rea July 2012

Saturday 18 January 2014

Whatever happened to Kissing Friday

Introduction
This lessor known and mostly forgotten festival gave much fun for children and died it's last death in the 1950's having survived in one or two last schools.

Whatever happened to Kissing Friday

Kissing Friday, it was only for play,
Shall we ban all, shall we bring on dismay.
First Friday after, Shrove Tuesday it were,
A little bit of fun, for him and for her.

A boy could kiss, any girl he doth please,
T’was a lesson, in the birds and the bees.
A blessing be on, any girl that was kissed,
The fortunate girl, she did not resist.

Kissing Friday, why did thee go away,
Its was’nt as if, it was everyday.
It was all in good fun, it was only Play,

Oh tell me kind sir, must we all be so grey.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2008

Saturday 11 January 2014

In the witching hour

Introduction
Set in January in Anglo-Saxon England, this poem explores the period of wakefulness between first and second sleep known as the watch. We know from Bede that the goddess of spring honoured in March (Hrethmonath) was Hretha as this is mentioned in his 'on the computation of time' and that she defeated the winter goddess. 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.

In the witching hour

Short days of dark, midwinter gone,
Light waxes just, crisp cold wanes strong.
Lighting long ruses, dipped in lard,
Yule behind us, soil still hard.

Bed of dry straw, on rush mat floor,
No windows just, a wooden door.
Storytelling, centered on fire,
Ladies Bed Straw, snug in the shire.

After first sleep, what was that dream!
Laying awake, things arent what they seem.
With Valkyrie, soaring in sky,
Flying above, frozen fields high.

Shape of darkness, shine spirit fire,
Fading fairies, begin to tire.
Defying cold, clime out of bed,
Drawn to warm hearth, breaking some bread

In flint stone hearth, ashes still glow,
Smoke in long hair, embers to blow.
Rake spent ash through, smoke sleepy eyes,
Logs go on fire, flames to arise.

Kindling embers, to bring forth flame,
Dancing shadows, to life they came.
Crisp crunching chill, cold clear moon bright,
Brave it outside, in dead of night.

End of first watch, twixt sleep and wake,
Flickering light , bones no longer ache.
Lay low in bed, fire burning bright,
Raunchy bed straw, in quiet of night.

Four legged beast, farmer's delight,
Dark riding rite, in quiet of night.
Say special prayer, save souls to keep,
Silently slowly, comes second sleep.

Star of first light, cold as Helheim,
Morning mead mist, raw winter time.
Hretha still sleeps, Hellas hand holds fast
Winter's weary wind, spell not yet cast.


Copyright Andrew Rea September 2012

Sunday 5 January 2014

Index of poems on my blog

Poems about English places named after Anglo-Saxon gods:
Here be Frig
Here be Thunor
Here be Tiw
Here be Woden
Poems about English places named after Anglo-Saxon Pagan elements:
Here be Altars
Here be Dragons
Here be Elves
Here be Ghosts
Here be Giants
Here be Goblins
Here be Grimstones
Grimston – a message from the past?
Here be Groves
Here be Puckers
This is the Thyng
Here be Witches
Here be Wizards
Anglo-Saxon Charms
An exorcism of fever
charm for a difficult journey
The Wyrm Chant
Against flying venom
A charm against Heartburn

   Poems around the Anglo-Saxon year:
January
February
March
April
June
July
Third Litha
August
September
October
November
December
Yule
  These deal with the use of magic in various ways:
Aelfred
Angel of Death
On the spindle side
Spell of invincibility
Spell of the mead
Sutton Hoo
The Corn Dolly
With Faerstice
To Charm a Cow
English folk festivals
First day of Yule Dec 2012
Twelfth Night
Wassail the apple tree
Imbolc
Eostre Chant
Hochtide
Mid Summer’s Eve
Evocation of John Barleycorn
Samhain
    Miscellaneous:
Return ye Haegtesse
Thou art Aelfscyne
Watch in the Woods
Dweorgh Dwosle 
The Great Famine
Silly Dragons
First Dragon
Second Dragon
Third Dragon
Fourth Dragon
Fifth Dragon
Sixth Dragon
Seventh Dragon
Eighth Dragon
Ninth Dragon
Tenth Dragon
Eleventh Dragon
Twelfth Dragon


Saturday 14 December 2013

The great famine

Introduction
This poem is based on an entry in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle of 975: 'during harvest, appeared "cometa" the star; and then came in the following year a very great famine, and very manifold commotions among the English people.

At that point in time we find ourselves in a society that had been fully Christianised for over 200 years, but as today and more so up until the invention of modern agricultural machinery, there would have been many continuations of Pagan practices but partially robbed of their meaning.

From Bedes De Temporum Ratione on the reckoning of time, we know that Nerthus was the Earth Mother Goddess (until Frigg took over this role) and Wuldorfadur, the solar logos, was her consort. Reference was also made to the names of the months: Solmonath (mud month), February when offerings were made to these Gods by way of planting Sol Cakes into the earth. Blotmonath, blood month was when you took stock of your livestock and decided how many could be fed over the winter the surplus then met their end.

The feast in the rigs was due to folk for harvesting in the lords fields and is recorded in Saxon law. The drinking feast for the return to ploughing in February is like recorded.
A failed harvest was taken as divine punishment.

The reference to house fairies refers to the Cofgodas, these would guard a household, and would be given offerings in return. After Christianisation, it is believed that the belief in Cofgodas survived as the Hob.
A songal is a handful of corn.

Loaf Ward is the origin of lord.

The great famine (Anno Domini 976)

Last year in the rigs, we had merry a time,
Lusty summer play, with sheaves bound in twine.
Bright harvest comet, with full moon in sky,
Fine feast of plenty, but dark crows didst cry.

No priest of Nerthus, to visit our fields,
No heathen ritual, to safeguard our yields.
No Nerthus tribute, for next years harvest,
No one didst think of, forthcoming unrest.

In cold Solmonath, dolly went to earth,
Blessing the plough share, and drinking to mirth.
All drinking much ale, as fathers had done,
But not to honour, the old heathen sun.

The bright harvest moon, she shone and burned bright,
But little to cut, for our feasting rite.
Devine punishment, is god's ghostly will,
Meanwhile pious priests, are eating their fill.

This Blotmonath leaves, few beasts still alive,
Cruel long wintertide, how will we all thrive.
We ask our Loaf Ward, for grain to be fed,
But wheat chaff and grass, we use to make bread.

Oh mother Nerthus, wherefore hast thou gone?
Oh Wuldorfadur, why hast thou not shone?
The old ways did serve, in our tide of need,
With rite of casting, sacred songal of seed.

Without offerings, the fairies did leave,
Magical powers, they no longer weave.
To the great mead hall, greybeard boldly went,
I followed soon when, my angle was sent.

Copyright Andrew Rea December 2013