Folk, A Living Tradition: Plough Playing & Wassailing
Mummers’ play, Isle of Man, 2019.
Regular readers of my work will know I bang on a lot about folklore. There is something special about folklore and folk practices, and I don’t mean the blood and soil and fascist nonsense. For me, folk practices, folk music and folklore belong to the common people. They connect us to one another and to the land where we find ourselves, but they also allow us to access the knowledge of those who came before. We often think of these things as being historic, as dry, dusty relics that tell of times past, but they are more than that. They are alive, ever being moulded and shaped by us in the present. We add to the layers of knowledge and understanding of those who came before, bringing our own interpretations, indenting them with our own marks before passing them on in a continuous cycle.
As a pagan who does find meaning in the wheel of the year and the cycles of the seasons, there is an extra layer of depth and meaning to some of the folk practices that come from our relationship with the land and our reliance on it for survival. Many of the celebrations and events that might be considered ‘folk’ are associated with the agricultural year. This January, I have been lucky enough to take part in two such celebrations, a plough play and wassailing!
Plough Plays
“In comes I, Old Beelzebub!”
Plough plays, sometimes called wooing plays, are a type of mummers play, so called because they traditionally occur on or around Plough Monday and mark the beginning of the agricultural calendar. They traditionally occur in counties of the East Midlands of England, including my own, Nottinghamshire. The storyline is often the same, or have many similar elements, though they also rely on audience participation and actors may ad lib some parts. The plot typically involves a young man who is shunned by a lover and so signs up for the army. The shunner then falls in love with a clown or fool and attempts to convince him he is the father to her illegitimate child. As with many a classic drama (though make no mistake, you’ll not find a mummer’s play in lofty theatres), there is the struggle between archetypes, the hero and some evil force or being. In some plays it is the woman who is knocked down and in others the clown or fool, but no fear, for a doctor comes in to revive them. All of this with plenty of comedy and sometimes innuendo thrown in for good measure!
I recently played Old Beelzebub in one such plough play at a local brewery. After the play, a short ceremony was held, which involved the blessing of the plough. The blessing of the plough recognises the human endeavour of producing food along with the spiritual aspect of the earth as alive and abundant, a joint effort, if you will. I also think there is something to be said about the history of brewing beer and pubs as a meeting place for working class people, historically being places the people could come together to discuss important matters of the day, matters that involved themselves, their communities and their welfare. I would draw parallels here to the sad state of the public house today in Britain and their rapid decline, indeed a free house is becoming a rare thing indeed. For me, there was a special, almost nostalgic feeling about the play and being involved in a community based event that doesn’t take itself too seriously, while also being an important part of local lore and custom. It highlighted the importance of community, of land and shared work, where the burden is shared with many and everyone’s efforts are recognised, lessons we would do well to remember today.
Wassailing
“Love and joy come to you, And to you your wassail too”
Many people may well be familiar with the term ‘Wassailing’ today and may have vague ideas about what it is. Wassailing is a Saxon tradition coming from the term ‘waes hael’ which means ‘good health’, itself a toast, and one many people still might make today when drinking together in celebration!
There are two types of wassailing. One type is the house to house wassailing, which continued into the Middle Ages, perhaps as a way for the feudal lords of the day to show gratitude and offer something back to those who worked their lands and served them in day to day life in some way. It involved the wassail bowl, traditionally made from wood, being taken from house to house while merrymakers sang traditional songs. The second kind is perhaps the most familiar and the one I was lucky enough to take part in recently, which takes place in an orchard. The aim of this type of wassailing is to ensure healthy trees and an abundant harvest.
We made our way to a local orchard, where we were greeted with the warmth of a bonfire and mulled cider. Celebrations began with a traditional wassailing song before a procession through the orchard. The idea is to scare evil spirits away, so off we set, carrying flaming torches, clanging pots and pans, blowing whistles and generally making as much noise as possible to frighten said evil spirits away. But it’s not just about frightening the bad things away, we also want to welcome the good! As we gathered at the king apple tree, toasted bread was handed out, and we dipped them in the wassail bowl which held, you guessed it, more cider. We spread out through the orchard, hanging our bits of cider soaked toast on the branches of the trees, inviting good and protective spirits in. The leftover cider was poured on the roots of the tree, ceremonial words were said, followed by more singing, and we finished with three cheers for the king apple tree. All of this was of course followed with merrymaking, music, cider and beer before heading home, cold but exhilarated. It was a genuine pleasure to take part in a ceremony steeped in history and that continues to honour the genius loci.
Both of these practices and traditions are steeped in history but also become part of our living landscape where we remember our place in the grand scheme of things and look to the spirits of the land to help us. We remember our reciprocal relationship to the land and to one another. In the dark times of the world, this is a lesson well worth remembering.
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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