Stirring the Witchblood: John Barleycorn Must Die, A Lammas Ritual
Faery Tradition, Legacy of the Witchblood, Magical Perception, Wicca Add comments
Hail to the Corn King and the Harvest Queen!
In the Northern Hemisphere, early August has been the time to harvest the grain. The celebration is called Lammas in contemporary Witchcraft, and honors the spirit of the grain as it is made into bread and beer for the sustenance of the people. This celebration is as old a agriculture.
We celebrate Lammas on August first, but it was really celebrated on the Full Moon after the turn of the month. I imagine that the light of the moon was needed to complete the harvest far into the night, and that the lunar tides were observed in planting and harvesting. The Full Moon is like the end of Summer, after fullness is waning and emptying in preparation for the coming darkness.
This year we have an eclipse of the Moon in Aquarius. Aquarius is represented by the Water Bearer, the Grail Bearer, the giver of life. A Lunar Eclipse means the shadow of the Earth passes over the Moon. It is a time whens spirits are said to descend. For me it is an image of acceptance of sacrifice to the matrix of life.
We can celebrate by being conscious as we eat our bread today. I like to feed the birds. Perhaps you can donate bread to the food bank in you area. Being mindful that our food is a gift from Mother Earth on a global level will help to shift human consciousness about our relationship with the planet from exploitation to recognition that She provides our very lives to us.
When I was 15 this song came out and changed my life. It caused an explosion in my soul. The Earth was alive! It had been alive for our European ancestors who harvested the fields with compassion for old John Barleycorn, the personification of the grain.
I was never a city person, but grew up in Leicester, Massachusetts, a town with one road bordered by a gas station, an Italian restaurant, the library, and a cemetery from the Revolutionary War. (An interesting aside: when I was back there in Sept 2006, the graves of British soldiers were decorated with Union Jacks in honor of the British soldiers.) I loved the corn fields where, in the summer nights, the ripe stalks stood tall and dense as a forest, rustling, whispering to each other, accompanying the mating calls of the crickets and frogs. Not far from the corn fields, apple trees bloomed cloud pale under the moonlight; the vast blueberry fields were bushy with ripe fruit, fragrant in the summer heat. The beauty of the tilled land was alive and full of spirits.
Like all great Faery tales John Barleycorn Must Die, with its subtext of human sacrifice for the sake of the land, awakened my Witchblood, and there was no going back to Christian consciousness alone.
The Spirit of the Grain, John Barleycorn Must Die
John Barleycorn
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die.
They’ve ploughed, they’ve sown, they’ve harrowed him in
Threw clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead.
They let him lie for a very long time
Till the rains from Heaven did fall,
And little Sir John sprung up his head
And so amazed them all.
They’ve let him stand till Midsummer’s day,
Till he looked both pale and wan.
And little Sir John’s grown a long, long beard
And so become a man.
They’ve hired men with the scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at the knee,
They’ve rolled him and tied him by the waist,
Serving him most barbarously.
They’ve hired men with the sharp pitchforks,
Who pricked him through the heart
And the loader, he has served him worse than that,
For he’s bound him to the cart.
They’ve wheeled him around and around a field,
Till they came unto a barn,
And there they made a solemn oath
On poor John Barleycorn
They’ve hired men with the crab-tree sticks,
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller, he has served him worse than that,
For he’s ground him between two stones.
And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl
And his brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl
Proved the strongest man at last
The huntsman, he can’t hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his horn,
And the tinker, he can’t mend kettle nor pots
without a little barley corn
Post Footer automatically generated by Add Post Footer Plugin for wordpress.
Popularity: 3% [?]
May 16th, 2009 at 7:15 pm
[...] What is this connection with wine and death? Anyone? Perhaps the answer is here: Stirring the Witchblood: John Barleycorn Must Die [...]
May 19th, 2009 at 2:12 pm
i really like this song cause even when it is finished it keeps on going, i m really happy i ve listened to it thanks
May 21st, 2009 at 10:02 am
HI! I really got troubled by reading this part on the wine ale and cider, cause i had an alcoholic mother, so i always kept this kind of false image on those drinks eventhough i felt there was a way of drinking them, but the easy way out for me was kind of blocking them out or drinking them and forgetting what i drink.So actually a few days ago i gave it a go with a glass of wine cause also i thought it was time to try again but for real.And it made me realise the beauty and importance of harmony, but also that the gods are really important to me , that it feels healthy that they are there, and that i don t want to mess with em(i don t know if i ever did, probably yes), not because they are powerful or anything, but just because it feels good nice and healthy and right.so really thanks for that.i really kind of started to rediscover all this.
August 5th, 2009 at 3:47 am
Hi Arlene, I love your blog. Its really interesting,. Thanks for commenting on my blog, Necropolis Now (quite a while ago). Sorry I didn’t reply sooner, I’ve been away.
~Caroline.
August 5th, 2009 at 4:14 pm
Thanks Caroline! I love yours too. I hope we can stay in touch with our blogs. Death is the biggest Mystery.
August 2nd, 2010 at 9:55 am
Alex – You can also use grape juice
August 6th, 2010 at 12:21 pm
Thank you. Glad you enjoy it.