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Image
courtesy of Enchanted Art©
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Harvest
Home
by
Mike Nichols
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There were three men came out of the West,
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn must die...
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Despite the bad publicity generated by Thomas Tryon’s novel,
Harvest Home is the pleasantest of holidays. Admittedly, it does involve the concept
of sacrifice, but one that is symbolic only. The sacrifice is that of the
spirit of vegetation, John Barleycorn. Occurring one quarter of the year after
Midsummer, Harvest Home represents midautumn, autumn’s height. It is also the
autumnal equinox, one of the quarter days of the year, a Lesser Sabbat and a
Low Holiday in modern Witchcraft. Recently, some Pagan groups have begun
calling the holiday by the Welsh name ‘Mabon’, although there seems little
historical justification for doing so.
Technically, an equinox is an astronomical point and, due to
the fact that our leap-year cycle causes dates to slip and then snap back into
place, the date may vary by a few days depending on the year. The autumnal
equinox occurs when the sun crosses the equator on its apparent journey
southward, and we experience a day and a night that are of equal duration. Up
until Harvest Home, the hours of daylight have been greater than the hours from
dusk to dawn. But from now on, the reverse holds true. Astrologers know this as
the date on which the sun enters the sign of Libra, the Scales (an appropriate
symbol of a balanced day and night).
However, since most European peasants were not accomplished
at calculating the exact date of the equinox, they celebrated the event on a
fixed calendar date, September 25, a holiday the medieval church Christianized
under the name of “Michaelmas”, the feast of the archangel Michael. (One
wonders if, at some point, the Roman Catholic Church contemplated assigning the
four quarter days of the year to the four archangels, just as they assigned the
four cross-quarter days to the four Gospel writers. Further evidence for this
may be seen in the fact that there was a brief flirtation with calling the
vernal equinox “Gabrielmas”, ostensibly to commemorate the archangel Gabriel’s
announcement to Mary on Lady Day.)
Again, it must be remembered that the Celts reckoned their
days from sundown to sundown, so the September 25 festivities actually begin on
the previous sundown (our September 24). Although our Pagan ancestors probably
celebrated Harvest Home on September 25, modern Witches and Pagans, with their
desktop computers for making finer calculations, seem to prefer the actual
equinox point, beginning the celebration on its eve.
Mythically, this is the day of the year when the God of
Light is defeated by his twin and alter ego, the God of Darkness. It is the
time of the year when night conquers day. And as I have recently shown in my
seasonal reconstruction of the Welsh myth of Blodeuwedd, the autumnal equinox
is the only day of the whole year when Llew (light) is vulnerable and it is
possible to defeat him. Llew now stands on the Balance (Libra/ autumnal
equinox), with one foot on the Cauldron (Cancer/ summer solstice) and his other
foot on the Goat (Capricorn/ winter solstice). Thus he is betrayed by
Blodeuwedd, the Virgin (Virgo) and transformed into an Eagle (Scorpio).
Two things are now likely to occur mythically, in rapid
succession. Having defeated Llew, Goronwy (darkness) now takes over Llew’s
functions, both as lover to Blodeuwedd, the Goddess, and as king of our own
world. Although Goronwy, the Horned King, now sits on Llew’s throne and begins
his rule immediately, his formal coronation will not be for another six weeks,
occurring at Samhain (Halloween) or the beginning of winter, when he becomes
the Winter Lord, the Dark King, Lord of Misrule. Goronwy’s other function has
more immediate results, however. He mates with the Virgin Goddess, and
Blodeuwedd conceives, and will give birth—nine months later (at the summer
solstice)—to Goronwy’s son, who is really another incarnation of himself, the
Dark Child.
Llew’s sacrificial death at Harvest Home also identifies him
with John Barleycorn, spirit of the fields. Thus, Llew represents not only the
sun’s power, but also the sun’s life trapped and crystallized in the corn.
Often this corn spirit was believed to reside most especially in the last sheaf
or shock harvested, which was dressed in fine clothes, or woven into a
wicker-like man-shaped form. This effigy was then cut and carried from the
field, and usually burned, amidst much rejoicing. So one may see Blodeuwedd and
Goronwy in a new guise, not as conspirators who murder their king, but as
kindly farmers who harvest the crop that they had planted and so lovingly cared
for. And yet, anyone who knows the old ballad of John Barleycorn knows that we
have not heard the last of him.
They 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....
Incidentally, this annual mock sacrifice of a large
wickerwork figure (representing the vegetation spirit) may have been the origin
of the misconception that Druids made human sacrifices. This charge was first
made by Julius Caesar (who may not have had the most unbiased of motives), and
has been restated many times since. However, as has often been pointed out, the
only historians besides Caesar who make this accusation are those who have read
Caesar. And, in fact, upon reading Caesar’s Gallic Wars closely, one discovers
that Caesar never claims to have actually witnessed such a sacrifice. Nor does
he claim to have talked to anyone else who did. In fact, there is not one
single eyewitness account of a human sacrifice performed by Druids in all of
history!
Nor is there any archaeological evidence to support the
charge. If, for example, human sacrifices had been performed at the same ritual
sites year after year, there would be physical traces. Yet there is not a
scrap. Nor is there any native tradition or history that lends support. In
fact, insular tradition seems to point in the opposite direction. The Druid’s
reverence for life was so strict that they refused to lift a sword to defend
themselves when massacred by Roman soldiers on the Isle of Mona. Irish brehon
laws forbade a Druid to touch a weapon, and any soul rash enough to unsheathe a
sword in the presence of a Druid would be executed for such an outrage!
Jesse Weston, in her brilliant study of the Four Hallows of
British myth, From Ritual to Romance, points out that British folk tradition
is, however, full of mock sacrifices. In the case of the wicker man, such
figures were referred to in very personified terms, dressed in clothes,
addressed by name, etc. In such a religious ritual drama, everybody played
along.
They've hired men
with scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at
the knee,
They've rolled him
and tied him by the waist
Serving him most
barbarously....
In the medieval miracle-play tradition of the “Rise Up,
Jock” variety (performed by troupes of mummers at all the village fairs), a
young harlequin-like king always underwent a mock sacrificial death. But
invariably, the traditional cast of characters included a mysterious “Doctor”
who had learned many secrets while “traveling in foreign lands”. The Doctor
reaches into his bag of tricks, plies some magical cure, and presto! the young
king rises up hale and whole again, to the cheers of the crowd. As Weston so
sensibly points out, if the young king were actually killed, he couldn’t very
well rise up again, which is the whole point of the ritual drama! It is an
enactment of the death and resurrection of the vegetation spirit. And what
better time to perform it than at the end of the harvest season!
In the rhythm of the year, Harvest Home marks a time of rest
after hard work. The crops are gathered in, and winter is still a month and a
half away! Although the nights are getting cooler, the days are still warm, and
there is something magical in the sunlight, for it seems silvery and indirect.
As we pursue our gentle hobbies of making corn dollies (those tiny vegetation
spirits) and wheat weaving, our attention is suddenly arrested by the sound of
baying from the skies (the “Hounds of Annwn” passing?), as lines of geese cut
silhouettes across a harvest moon. And we move closer to the hearth, the longer
evening hours giving us time to catch up on our reading, munching on popcorn
balls and caramel apples and sipping home-brewed mead or ale. What a wonderful
time Harvest Home is! And how lucky we are to live in a part of the country
where the season’s changes are so dramatic and majestic!
And little Sir
John in the nut-brown bowl--
And he's brandy in
the glass,
And little Sir
John in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the
strongest man at last.
[Traditional song quotations from recording by Traffic.]
Document Copyright © 1986, 1995, 2005 by Mike
Nichols.
This document can be re-published only as long as no information is
lost or changed, credit is given to the author, and it is provided or
used without cost to others. Other uses of this document must be
approved in writing by Mike
Nichols. Revised: Tuesday, May 3, 2005 c.e. Please
click here to go to Mike Nichols home page.
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