A Snake Came Crawling

Pre History – the Dark Ages

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Before there was terror there was a truce between the ways of the Old Gods and the New ... in the Dark Ages, there was light in the form of harmony, and the web of Wyrd was respected by all – even by Christian Kings.

A Wizard stands still in the field at dawn, his eyes fixed on the horizon, every sense anticipating the first rays of the sunrise, to choosing the perfect moment to begin the ancient ceremony. He murmurs incantations softly in the still air, each verse gathering power as the sun moves closer to the edge of the horizon. Four sods of earth stitched with seed lie at his feet, a beautifully carved plough rests in the field. With every moment his voice grows stronger, wilder, and before long the people gathered around can begin to discern what he is saying. And they long to hear – for he is speaking the old words over the land, the Magickal sounds that will bring the fields back to life, the prayers that will bring forth the grain and the vegetables, the fruits and the seeds that will provide every one of them with life throughout the season – and seasons – to come.

Every member of the tiny community has brought something to this immense ritual – the ritual known as AEcerbot, or the Remedy, to bring fruit to the fields. The Field Remedy charm is no fanciful thing, no dalliance with Magick. This is a twenty-four-hour process, which began at sundown the night before, and the Wizard has not worked alone. For the new Church's priest has worked and prayed over four sods of earth taken from the fields of the parishioners. He has soaked their roots in the poultice of honey and oil and milk and herb made by the Wise Women. He has prayed over the sods, and said a mass for them. He took four crucifixes and planted them into each sod within the Church, inscribing names of saints upon each cross. The Wizard does not like this change in the charm – for once the runes were written upon the sods, but for now they have agreed the saints must be asked for their blessing too, and it eases the priest's mind to know that the fields will be sown with the saints' blessings, as well as those of the earth mother, of Odin, of the Aelfer, or the elves.

In the darkness of the early morning, the villagers helped carry the sods to the fields, and now they stand gathered, along with their priest, watching their Wizard prepare ...

And it is then the Magick begins. As the sun turns the sky to gold and coral, the Wizard raises his arms, faces the east, and turns deosil – sunwise – three times, his voice growing in power and emotion, imploring the sun to fill the earth with its energy.

Each of the sods is ceremonially planted within the field, and the plough is then sprinkled with a strange mixture of frankincense, salt, oil and fennel ...

The cries are taken up by the villagers as the plough, now blessed, begins to break the earth.

Mother of Earth ...
Earth, Mother of mortals
Erce, Erce, Erce, Erce

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This blessing of the land was a common ritual in Dark Ages Britain – a strange concoction, part Christian, part pagan, totally Magickal, that took weeks to prepare, a complete commitment by the priest and the people and a Wizard. It is typical of the syncretism of faith at a time when Wizards and Witches, cunning-men and Wise Women worked alongside the evolving Christian faith. (Cunning meant, in the old language, naturally clever – it did not have the connotation it has today, of being sly.) Whether Magick and miracle, both were woven into each other's worlds.

Between around 400AD and 1300, the Dark Ages allowed an evolution in religion. In Britain, the old Celtic ways had met and been melded to a degree with the practices of Rome, their gods meeting with the old ones, creating new, synthesized deities such as Sulis-Minerva of the sacred springs of Bath. Then came the Saxons, with their runes, and Odin, with Thor and Freya, and then came a new wave, the Christians, with their Christ – 'Christ', said St Columba, one of the founders of Celtic Christianity, 'is my Druid.' After them came the Vikings, and a further Nordic influence wove its way into the land. Thus Druids and priests, warriors, farmers, Wise Women and the cunning-folk who practised the Earth Magick found some way of getting along – and by finding where their worlds were similar, peace was possible. It was not perfect – there are laws we can trace forbidding malevolent Witchcraft, but the punishment for Magickal malpractice was to do penance for a year, or to eat bread and water for a time. King Alfred, who reigned as King of England (871–91) was a man who acknowledged the Magickal practice of his forebears – the philosophy known as Wyrd – but as he understood Wyrd – the energy and the weaving of fate and will that created lives – it was something brought about by God. He said, 'What we call Wyrd is really the work of God about which he is busy every day.'

King Alfred was a deeply committed Christian, a Warrior-King who fought off Viking invasions, and a shrewd, religious diplomat who encouraged kindness and mercy. His influence was immense and resulted in more and more churches being built in the little villages. Priests were encouraged to work with the Wizards and Wise Women, and Vikings became farmers and citizens of Wessex. It was a cunning – in the best sense of the word – form of conversion; a stealthy, shrewd wisdom that created opportunities for Christianity. achieved not through violence and force, but through clever manipulation of existing belief systems that resulted in the Christianisation of Old Briton.

In the Britain of the Anglo-Saxons, faith was a synthesis of the Old Ways and the new, and while churches like the little one at the village now known as Alton Priors in Wiltshire were being built, they were also part of a wider system of belief that had flourished and evolved for years.

Take, for example, this charm – one of the most famous of syncretic faith, known as the Nine Herbs Charm. This fragment reveals so much about the Anglo-Saxon world and its ability to meld forms of belief that later centuries would tear apart.

A snake came crawling, it bit a man.
Then Woden took nine glory-twigs,
Smote the serpent so that it flew into nine parts.
There apple brought this pass against poison,
That she nevermore would enter her house.

This spell was used widely and it can found in the tenth century Anglo-Saxon manuscript, the Lacnunga. It was common for charms to make mention of Christ or one of the Old Gods. The Nine Herbs Charm mentions Odin – Woden – and Christ.

So, although many people today believe that there was never a time when Witches and Wizards and Priests and Church lived alongside each other, the truth is that they did. Although they skirmished and fought, there was a tolerance – sometimes almost envy...