As nature initiates her ever flowing, cyclical process, we too are summoned forth once more to enter a new phase of life. One we look to with kind eyes of familiarity, marked by preservation and withdrawal from our arduous, demanding labours into the mysterious, dark domain of this time of year.
The sweet, crisp melodies of Autumn usher in enchantments cast by crimson red and orange leaves. Dancing delicately on their descent from their mother tree, they are coupled with the undeniable magic contained within the cozy nights ahead. Our lives have become accustomed to the warmth of pumpkin spice that caresses our lips and envelopes our body in a temporary embrace of security while we acknowledge the arrival of the ethereal. The mystical entities outside our windows that creep from the corners of the field to the shadows of the crossroads.
However, the beloved, spooky season we cherish so much within the Witching world has evolved. It has become more commercialized while losing vital lessons from our ancestors along the way. This is especially the case with the importance of the harvest and the spirits that reside from within the annual gathered bounty. The spirit of the crop is known by many names across the British isles; a witch looking to form a deeper connection to the land can work with her, all while honoring the toils of the past.
Within old Salopian life, the luxuries afforded to us of the modern age including the convenience of visiting our local supermarket, would not have been present. Before renovations to rural life took place due to the introduction of the industrial revolution and multiple wars, Shropshire was a place situated at the heart of agriculture. However, the swarm of golden mists that settle upon the surface of the many fields continue to signal the arrival of an important time of year.
The Harvest is a season of rejoicing and prosperity, especially within a modern Witches craft if they are inclined to follow the wheel of the year, which features three Harvest festivals. But historically the period was a time of extreme hard work from Shropshire Farmers to ensure successful completion and the continuation of life. A matter of life and death so to speak. For if failure occurred due to nature’s strife and ambivalence, the livelihood of the farmer would be sure to follow. Starvation was a genuine and ever-present risk.
Therefore, the motivation against such uncertainty fostered companionship between labourers, farmers and reapers who often worked 16 hours a day under the burning sun to secure a suitable level of sustenance. This involved the arrival of migrant Labourers from all over – including the north and south of Wales. They traveled to negotiate terms of work in the corn fields across the border where higher wages were at stake and large quantities of cider awaited consumption. This was often imbibed from small cups made of horn; an image that conjures up vivid pictures reminiscent of historical celebration from ages past.
Work certainly was not devoid of festivity! Although many traditions have been lost due to the technological inventions of the 20th century, they persisted. Passed down through the generations and rooted in the land for folklorists to discover, lingering in the memories of the people. Shropshire, through exchange and influence, shares many of these with Wales due to its liminal positioning. This, of course, is not surprising since Shropshire was once part of Wales.
One such tradition, established in animism, included the Crying of the Mare.
The Crying of the Mare
Crying, calling, or shouting the Mare signified the end of the harvest. This act served both as a ceremonial belief in the presence of spirits of the corn, and as an announcement by farmers within the parish that their work was completed. Referred to as the Mare in Shropshire and Herefordshire and Y Gaseg Fedi/ Y Wrach in Welsh corn growing places such as Pembrokeshire and Carmarthenshire, the mare spirit is symbolic of our deeply held connection to the cycles of the earth.
This mesmerizing manifestation is the spirit who gracefully gallops between the seasonal tides. Betwixt the seen and unseen, her hoof prints point to the onset of the equinox while leaving the fields fallow. With every swift cut of sickles and Scythes, the home of the mare grew smaller until she was forced to reside in the last stalks of corn in the field. Shropshire farmers would knot these remaining stalks together, usually around 20, at the end of the reaping. A jovial game would then ensue with the men taking it in turns to cut the “Gonders neck”. Standing ten to twenty paces back, they would take it in turns to throw their equipment in order to sever the neck and be claimed “the best Mon”. He would subsequently carry it back to his partner as a beacon of luck into the home. There the Mare would be hung contently within the solace of the warm, heartening atmosphere until the oncoming of the next harvest.
Alternatively, a second ritual of acclamation would take place in which the men gathered together in the stackyard or on the highest ground in the field. There rustic pleasantries would be exchanged between the reapers after a loud exclaim of “hip, hip hip, hooray”. This would go as follows:
“I have her, I have her, I have her!”
“What hast thee? What hast thee? What hast thee?
“A Mare!, A Mare!, A Mare!”
“Whose is hers? , Whose is hers?, Whose is hers?”
The name of the farmer would then be shouted to display ownership and honour for being the first to finish the harvest. The Group would then exclaim:
“Where shall we send her?, Where shall we send her?, Where shall we send her?”
The Harvest Mares spirit, beckoned and invoked by the triumphant shouts, would be sent to neighbouring farmers who needed assistance and aid. Afterwards the same chant would follow until the Harvest mare took up refuge in the field of the last farmer to finish, and the dialogue would change with the farmer claiming her to keep through the winter.
The last sheaf would then be taken into the home and weaved into an intricate design known as a Corn dolly which symbolised sacrifice, fertility and continuity of the Harvest mare. This generous spirit took residence within its new home, witnessing a bountiful feast and merriment before being ploughed back into the earth for a successfully future harvest. Although the face of agriculture and farming techniques have altered drastically with customs like this no longer deemed necessary, the corn dolly survived, with techniques passed down through the generations. These were made from a multitude of crops including wheat, oats, rye and Barley.
The Harvest Today
As witches, we yearn for union with the spiritual world that exists a hairsbreadth away. A connection which allows us to place one foot in the past whilst remaining present within the modern, bridging the gap between. We may no longer be directly present for a bountiful harvest, nor do we pursue hard labour to produce our fruits. Nevertheless it is essential to recognise our agrarian history and the intricacies of our land’s beliefs. To draw upon the customs and traditions passed down to us allows our practice to develop into a beautiful, fulfilling relationship with the land, while pulling us closer to the depths of our ancestral heritage. The harvest Mare still exists within the crop and every gentle breeze that sways the direction of her corn whispers of her presence. An echo that can still be heard by those who listen.
As a Salopian folk witch, it is essential to listen. This is my heritage, a way for me to deepen my craft and my relations with the spirits of place. But this is not my right alone. Our ancestors all shared in the harvest with each community relying on its success to survive, producing variations of the tradition .
Honouring this tradition today is not only a satisfying act but is also a symbol of reverence and appreciation. This can be done by gleaning the few remaining stands, standing solitarily at the edge of the field and creating a home for the harvest mare in the form of a corn dolly. A small ritual can be constructed alongside this that works within an individual practice. I recognise my privilege to exist in the modern world and to honour the work that’s needed to forge balanced relationships with the spirits that are among the hidden paths towards gnosis. In this case when we take from the harvest of life we too must give back, providing a home for the spirits that share with us their bounty.
Wow that’s so interesting