The gathering of the cereal harvest (wheat, oats, barley and rye) always took place in the month of August, but the exact timing depended on the weather and when the hay had been harvested, for the seasons ruled the land and the weather ruled the seasons. At a time when there were no combine-harvesters or tractors, farmers needed all the help they could get. Up to twenty labourers were needed at the peak of the harvest season on an average sized farm working for up to six long weeks. Blacksmiths, bakers, thatchers and tanners; every able bodied person was called to help bring in the harvest. Speed was everything; not just because of the prospect of rain, but also because a farmer did not want to be poorly viewed by his neighbours. Being the last farmer to finish harvesting was a reputation no farmer wished to have. Harvesting was an extremely competitive endeavour and this was reason enough to raise the reapers’ wages. Bonuses were also offered to encourage a hasty harvest.
A large majority of reapers travelled from up to forty miles away and pitched their tents near the fields they would be working in before moving on to the next harvest. Eventually these families became the ancestors of the travelling folk of later years. The same workers would return to the same fields year after year arriving at first as children with their parents. During harvest time the children explored and played together, sleeping wherever they found a soft pile of hay, while pregnant or nursing mothers kept a watchful eye on them.
The Harvest Lord was the man in charge of organising the work flow of the harvest. He made sure everyone shared both the hard and the easier jobs as well as supplying equipment, overseeing break times and when the work day began and ended. He also kept a watchful eye on any troublemakers who would be duly punished. It was the Harvest Lord’s responsibility to make sure that food and drink were served on time and readily on hand. Workers were offered mead, cider or ale, up to seventeen pints a day (thirsty work!) as well as bread, cheese, oatcakes and onions. The first break was from 12pm to 1pm, which of course included the obligatory afternoon nap and then work continued until 7pm. There were also two breaks of 15 minutes during the day. Some wealthy landowners would pay for a piper to play in the fields while the men worked. The Harvest Lord was also known as the ‘King of the Mowers’ and wore a hat decorated with poppies and bindweed. His right hand man was called the ‘Lady’. Each new reaper was hung upside down and had the soles of his boots struck with a stone. He was only released from this mock ‘shoeing’ when he had put a shilling into the mowers’ beer pot.
In some areas, the local vicar was called to bless the crop and its reapers before the harvest began. In other places the clergy were not welcomed. It was common for the church to demand a tithe of one tenth of the crop and it was equally common for the harvesters to ignore it.
‘We’ve cheated the parson, we’ll cheat him again
Why should the vicar have one in ten?’
In some counties it was customary for the Harvest Lord to collect money for the harvest feast from anyone who happened to pass by the field where the men were working. The passer-by would be grabbed and bumped to the ground until they paid. This was called ‘Hollerin Largesse’.
The first sheaf of wheat was ceremoniously cut at dawn, winnowed, ground into flour and baked into small loaves which were gratefully received by the village folk.
An animal might be hiding in the last sheaf of corn and in the Middle Ages it was believed to have been a hare. The saying ‘putting the hare out of the corn’ simply meant finishing the harvest. For those who knew the old tale about a hag who turned into a hare to steal the cows’ milk, it was called ‘putting out the hag’ or ‘putting out the Cailleach’ (Ireland). It was said that the Cailleach was chased from farm to farm until she reached the field of the last man in the parish to harvest his corn and there she could go no further. The unlucky farmer had to then support her for the whole year. In reality, if a farmer cut the last sheaf himself he could throw it (or the corn dolly) into a neighbouring farmer’s field who had yet to finish harvesting. This was seen as an insult and if the person was an adult and was caught it could end very badly indeed. This is why children were sent instead and un-harvested fields were guarded at night. If a farmer found a sheaf in his field he could in turn do the same to another farmer if he had not yet finished harvesting. A farmer would rather his prized cow drop dead than to have the ill luck of the Cailleach on his doorstep. In other parts of Britain this was seen as a light-hearted jest and if the person was caught they may have received a punishment such as having to polish all of the harvesters’ shoes.
Rabbits that were accidently killed during the harvest were seen as more valuable than the corn itself, but instead of selling the rabbits the landowner would share them out amongst his harvesters.
Last sheaf customs varied from region to region and were mainly practiced in the Hebrides, Orkney, Shetland, Wales, the Isle of Man, Worcestershire, Cumberland, Yorkshire, the Lincolnshire Wolds, Kent, Hertfordshire and Ireland, particularly northern Ireland. These customs were not documented until the 18th century and in some places they were barely recorded before they died out. There was no regularity when it came to the name of the sheaf or to the meaning it was given, even within the same township. On the Isle of Lewis, for example, the Cailleach was honoured at the harvest feast whereas on Islay the Maiden was not.
In some areas reapers would all throw their scythes at the same time with their backs turned or similarly blindfolded, each person swinging at the sheaf until it was cut. For some it was lucky to be the one to cut the last sheaf and the honour was often given to a child or to the owner of the corn. For others the person would die unmarried. In County Carlow in Ireland, it was believed that a girl who cut the last sheaf in one swipe with a reaping hook would marry within the year. Wherever the tradition of throwing the sickle at the last sheaf was found, the atmosphere was generally one of lighthearted competition. Throwing a sickle whilst blindfolded was recorded mostly in Wales, southern Scotland, Somerset, Shropshire, Herefordshire, Glencoe, Bute and Kintyre.
“Arneck arneck we haven the nack.”
Cutting the last sheaf was known as 'Cutting the Neck', 'Crying the Neck' or 'Crying the Mare'. The meaning of ‘nack’ is obscure, but some believe it may come from an Old Norse name for a sheaf of corn. When the last sheaf was cut everyone surrounded the person holding the ‘neck’ while they held it close to the earth in a gesture of homage to the soil. The reapers’ removed their hats and bowed their heads before raising their hats and arms into the air crying the old ‘Harvest Shout’. In some places this was done from the highest point on the farm. The harvest had ended. Water or even Holy Water was sprinkled over the sheaf and its bearer.
One of the young men grabbed the ‘neck’ and ran as fast as he could to the farmhouse. Tradition stated that he must sneak inside and place the sheaf onto the farmhouse table without getting caught by the maids who would be waiting inside with buckets of water ready to douse him. If he succeeded he could kiss his favourite maid. The sheaf was presented to the farmer’s wife and a harvest feast was demanded. These water rituals were believed to prevent a drought the following year.
The sheaf could be hung up in the farmhouse, the barn or the byre until it was replaced the following year. Some people kept the sheaves year after year. In County Donegal, Ireland, crosses were made on St Brigid’s Eve from the last sheaf. Others ground the grain and fed it to their chickens. The first cockerel to start eating it would be killed on St Martin’s Eve. In Fife, Scotland, two sheaves were gathered at the end of the harvest. One represented the Old Woman (this harvest) and the other represented the Maiden (the following year’s harvest). In Yorkshire, the last sheaf of corn was set alight in the field with the ritual being called ‘Burning the Old Witch’. Peas were cooked in the ashes of the ‘Witch’ while songs and games were played around the fire’s embers.
‘Some bless the cart, some kiss the sheaves; some prank them up with oaken leaves.’
The Horkey Cart, drawn by four or six horses, carried the last load of corn and was decorated in an abundance of oak and ash boughs. Brightly coloured ribbons were tied to the horses’ harnesses and garlands were hung around their necks. This would not happen if the harvest came in late, was poor or the weather was bad. A young girl dressed in white linen rode the leading horse back to the village and the men riding on top of the cart would sing and blow horns. Villagers would soak the returning field labourers with buckets of water, an age-old ritual believed to encourage plenty of rain for the following year's crops. A seed cake baked at this time was given to harvesters and was called the Horkey Cake.
Once the harvest had been safely stored away the Harvest Supper or Harvest Home celebrations could begin. A feast of gratitude was enjoyed by all with singing and dancing, fiddles and flutes and storytelling well into the night. Toasts were made to the famer, the labourers, the maidservants and even the agricultural tools. Cider, ale, plum pudding, apple pie, rabbit pie, chicken, hare, ham, bacon, veal, roast beef, goose, mutton, cheese, corn dressed in custards, boiled wheat, honey and bread fashioned into the shape of an ear of corn were enjoyed. In Ireland, people ate new potatoes, cabbage, fish, fowl and bacon with a variety of berries. In times before these, a bull was sacrificed and young men danced around in circles holding the corn dolly with riotous songs sung on hill tops.
Harvest Feasts were celebrated in east Anglia and the east Midlands (the Horkey Supper, the Harvest Frolic or Largesse Spending) on the Isles of Scilly (the Nicla Thies) northern England (the Mell Supper, the Cream Pot, the Kern Supper, the Churn Supper or the Inning Goose) Cornwall (the Gooldize meaning the Feast of Ricks) the Isle of Man (the Mheillea) southern Scotland (the Kirn Supper) northern Scotland (the Maiden Feast, the Kirn or the Bere-Barrel, ‘bere’ meaning barley) and on Orkney (the Heuk-Butter, the Cuttin-Butter or the Muckle Supper). Farmyard harvest suppers had all but disappeared by the late 1800’s.
The next job in hand after Harvest Home was clearing the stalks left in the fields. This was called gleaning. The gleaners were usually women who were accompanied by their children and were supervised by the Gleaning Queen. Chosen by the women, the Gleaning Queen was crowned with a straw coloured cloth decorated with freshly harvested wheat, barley and oats. Straw coloured ribbons streamed out from the back, with a bow at the crown, a laurel leaf at the front and a jessamine branch. Sitting on a ‘throne’ decorated with flowers and greenery she was carried to the fields. Gleaning could make enough porridge and bread for a family to survive the winter ahead. If a family did not own a quern for grinding they could take their gleanings to the miller who would do it for them in exchange for a portion. Each day of the harvest began with the ringing of the village church bells at 8.30am to assemble the women who wanted to go gleaning. The Gleaning Bells were still ringing in the late 19th century. In Cheshire, it was said that bells should be rung three times over the crop before it could be taken in. Reapers were woken by the sound of a horn.
The central figure in all of the old harvest traditions is the Corn Dolly or Kern Baby which was crafted out of the last sheaf. In Scotland and northern England, if the harvest was completed before All Hallows’ Eve, she was known as the Maiden (most likely made from oats in Scotland). The Corn Dolly was called the Cailleach, Carline, Carley, Clyach, Gliack (eastern Highlands) or the Wrack (Yr Wrach ) meaning Old Woman in Gaelic or Welsh, if the harvest came in after All Hallows’ Eve. Other names given to the Corn Doll were the ‘Bitch’ (the Orkneys) the ‘Claidheag’ (Easter Ross, the Highlands) the ‘Harvest Dame’, the ‘Hag’, the ‘Lame Goat’ (Ghobbar Bhacach, Isle of Skye) the ‘Harvest Queen’, the ‘Old Witch’ (Yorkshire) the ‘Old Sow’ (Lincolnshire) the ‘Frog’ (Worcestershire) the ‘Hare’ (Galloway, Ireland) the Caseg Fedi (Wales, meaning the Harvest Mare) the ‘Gander’s Neck’ (Shropshire) the ‘Mell Dol’l (northern England) the ‘Yr Mheilla’ (the Isle of Man; ‘mel’ is Scandinavian meaning ‘corn’) the ‘Kirn’, the ‘Kern’ or the ‘Kern Baby’ (Cornwall) the ‘Auld Wife’ (Scotland) the ‘Mare’ (Herefordshire, Shropshire and Hertfordshire) the ‘Ivy Girl’ (Kent) and the ‘Neck’ (Devon, Cornwall, west Cheshire and Pembrokeshire). In France, straw figures were called the ‘Harvest Gosling’ and in Poland the last sheaf was called the ‘Quail’. At the end of the rye harvest in Uckermark, Germany, the straw figure was known as the ‘Old Man’.
The first written records of Corn Dolly making date from the late 18th century. The earliest Corn Dollies were simply handfuls of corn stalks decorated with flowers and greenery. Over time, they evolved into roughly crafted figures that may have represented a harvest deity. The Corn Dolly would be dressed in white or coloured paper with ribbons and flowers to finish off her outfit. Larger Corn Dollies were dressed in a child’s white dress with a ribbon around the waist. Her neck and head were made from a wooden ladle, and her face crafted from clay face had eyes made out of beads. Everything was tied to a pitch fork and was carried home by the reapers. In 19th century Ireland, the young girl carrying the Corn Dolly became the Harvest Queen herself. In some parts of Europe it was traditional to weave the last sheaf into a large corn mother with a corn baby inside her belly that represented the following year's harvest. But no matter what tradition was followed the corn dolly would find herself returned to the earth where she belonged.
In later centuries, Corn Dollies took on the shape of intricate knots, braided loops, spiral pyramids, miniature sheaves and decorated plaits called ‘Callaghs’. Some people believed that the Corn Dolly held healing powers and fed it to their sick animals. The grain from this last sheaf was also burned and the ashes applied to skin ailments. It was thought that she could prevent drought and ensure a good supply of eggs. If placed under the pillow she would ensure prophetic dreams. Dorothy Hartley in her book ‘The Land of England’ says that the original Corn Dollies were made by the thatcher of corn stacks who would set the dolls on top of his finished work as a trademark. The county could then see how many stacks of corn he had covered and how well he had done them.
Across the Highlands of Scotland, the leftovers from the last sheaves not used for dolly making went into making corn brooches. As good luck charms and tokens of love, these brooches were exchanged between sweethearts and young girls would wear them in their hair. Corn Dollies that were left on top of ricks were thought to prevent witches from landing on them. They were also believed to keep lightning at bay.
Come January, the last sheaf or Corn Dolly was either ploughed back into the fields on Plough Monday (the first Monday after Twelfth Night) or was fed to the plough horses. In other places the Dolly was hung over the fireplace until Christmas when the youngest daughter was gifted an apple that had been hidden inside it. The Corn Dolly was then fed to the farm’s prized cow. Other traditions involved the Corn Dolly being placed inside a tree trunk or added with the following year's grain.
Professor Ronald Hutton, author of ‘The Stations of the Sun’, explains that it was not until the 1930’s that scholars began questioning the assumption that rural communities believed in a spirit that lived in the corn and that harvest traditions were survivals of ancient fertility cults. The belief that our ancient ancestors sacrificed the spirit of the corn for it to be reborn the following year is still readily accepted without question today.
Carl von Sydow, a Swedish scholar, found that beliefs in animism were not widespread in Europe and were ‘patchy’ at best. The research of folklorists Calum Maclean and Alan Gailey also discredited similar theories put forward by Sir James Frazer, author of ‘The Golden Bough’. They found no evidence of people believing in a corn spirit or that harvest customs were relics of pagan religions. To say that a witch or wild animal lived in the corn fields would have discouraged children from playing amongst the crops and causing damage. Carrying the last sheaf in triumph was simply a signal to neighbouring farms that the grain had been harvested. Interestingly, there is an outlier in the Hebrides where a community had a tangible fear of cutting the last sheaf. Was this a folk memory of a harvest goddess or something else entirely? These studies did acknowledge the similarities between 19th century harvest customs and the ancient Roman worship of the corn goddess Ceres.
I will finish by saying question everything you read, even when it concerns a widely accepted fact. Every author has an agenda whether they realise it or not and the folklorists of the Romantic Era, including Jacob Grimm and his embellishment of the goddess Ostara or Donald Alexander Mackenzie who transformed the Cailleach into a goddess had theirs. I may go into greater detail at a later date about how our history and folklore has been rewritten but in the meantime I do encourage you to explore this topic for yourself.
As always I hope that you found this as fascinating as I did and Part 2 will be following shortly with the bibliography as well. Wishing you a beautiful Lughnasadh, Lammas or Harvest Home.
Brightest Blessings
Elissa.
“Well ploughed,
Well sowed,
Well harrowed,
Well mowed,
And all safely carted to the barn wi' nary a load throwed!
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!”