Beer is a popular drink in many parts of the world. In the US, it’s the most popular alcoholic beverage. It’s not surprising then that we’d have plenty of folklore of beer to explore.
It also enjoys an incredibly long history. Barley beer is likely to come from the Middle East, since evidence of beer production dates to Mesopotamia’s ancient Sumerians. Archaeologists have found ceramic vessels still containing beer residue from 3400 BC. Priestesses made an ancient brew, the recipe for which was preserved in the Hymn to Ninkasi from 1800 BC, the Sumerian goddess of beer (Andrews 2018).
Throughout the following centuries, beer becomes the drink of choice in eras and places where drinking water is unsafe for consumption. Yet its continued popularity over such a long timespan leaves it ripe for a whole host of legends and folklore to emerge. Linked with saints, gods, and even witches, beer has many stories to tell.
Let’s explore some of the folklore of beer in this week’s post! Keep reading or hit below to hear the podcast episode.
A Super Short History of Beer
The Ancient Egyptians loved beer and made it part of the everyday diet (Andrews 2018). They believed Osiris taught them the art of brewing beer and making wine, which partially explained why people buried their dead with alcohol to present to Osiris. Meanwhile, the household god Bes was the patron of beer brewers.
The Greeks drank beer before it became common to grow grapes for wine (Smith 2013: ix). Yet according to Cornelius Tacitus, the Romans weren’t so impressed by beer. They described the favourite drink of the Teutons as “a horrible brew fermented from barley or wheat” (Smith 2013: x). Pliny wrote about how the Celts, Gauls, Germans, Vandals and Visigoths all made their own beer.
Brewing was women’s work until the medieval era when monasteries started making their own beer. Women were gradually cut out of the process. It was Charlemagne that championed brewing as a science.
Commercial brewing appeared in the aftermath of the Black Death in 1348 when the survivors found themselves with more money. Women regained control of brewing, becoming known as alewives. It’s at this point that we start to see the tavern appear, providing accommodations for travelling merchants.
The oldest food law in the world actually refers to beer. It dates to 1516, when Wilhelm IV, Duke of Bavaria, decreed that brewers could only use pure water, barley, and hops in their beer (Smith 2013: xiii).
Over time, brewers finally perfected their art, giving us the drink we’d recognise today. If you’re interested in learning more about the full history, check out the Dictionary of Beer and Brewing.
Beer, Plants, and Remedies
In terms of plants, beer is perhaps most associated with hops. Hops actually appear in an old English proverb, ‘Till St James’ day be come and gone, There may be Hops and there may be none” (Folkard 1884: 380). St James’ Day falls on 25 July. In the UK, hops are normally ready to be harvested between August and September. The proverb seems to suggest that they may not be ready for harvest until after St James’ Day.
The English finally imported cultivated hops from Flanders in the reign of Henry VIII (Folkard 1884: 380). Prior to that, they considered adding hops to beer to be a way of contaminating it (Smith 2013: xii). Hops fall under the rulership of Mars (Folkard 1884: 380).
Before hops were added to beer, brewers used a whole range of herbs. Some of them included henbane, which could cause hallucinations. Sometimes the brewers were persecuted when their brews went wrong, and it was only the introduction of hops that stopped further executions of ‘brew witches’.
There has been a persistent story that the stereotypical imagery associated with witches—the pointed hat, the cauldron, and the cat—all came from female brewers. Some even claim that men accused these women of witchcraft following the turmoil of the Reformation so they could steal their business (Brooks 2021).
The problem is that there isn’t definitive evidence to link the costumes of the alewives with the witchcraft iconography we recognise now. And the accusations of witchcraft have far deeper and more complicated explanations than a few male brewers trying to undercut the competition.
Remedies
In days gone by, herbalists were big fans of borage, noted as one of the ‘cordial flowers’ most likely to boost the spirits (along with rose, violet, and alkanet) (Folkard 1884: 255). Adding borage to wine could drive away melancholy and sadness. If you added borage to beer, it would help revive the drinker’s passion (Folkard 1884: 256).
Various sources, including Scott’s Discovery of Witchcraft recommended a mixture of gin, beer, and acorns as a cure for ague (Gomme 1884: 128). Alternatively, you could mix beer with mustard for the same illness.
You could even use beer to cure warts. Simply scrape the froth from new beer and take yourself off somewhere private in the morning. Apply the froth to the warts and leave it there—don’t wipe it off. If you do this for three mornings in a row, your warts should disappear (Gomme 1884: 131).
Witchcraft and the Folklore of Beer
In Poland, herbs occasionally turn up in early modern witch trial documentation, and Michael Ostling counsels us not to confuse witchcraft with herbcraft. As he explains, “a very small proportion of accused witches across Europe seem to have been herbal healers in any sense, and an even smaller proportion came to trial as a direct result of their healing practices” (2014: 179). That said, some herbs do appear in the trial records, and for our purposes, they do relate to beer.
Some of the herbs described demonstrated the belief that witches’ herbs might be used in a benevolent way, such as for healing, or to protect against witchcraft. Yet they might be used in love magic (considered unorthodox, if not downright malevolent), or even used for demonic possession by being sneaked into someone’s beer (Ostling 2014: 183). There were even rituals recorded in the trials to remove any enchantments on beer, involving signings of the cross, invoking the Virgin Mary, or using gold, myrrh, and frankincense that had been blessed at three masses (Ostling 2014: 184).
That said, Michael Ostling also notes a remedy to lift bewitchment, that involved boiling southernwood (Artemisia abrotanum) with another herb that was most likely milkwort, and bathing the victim, before mixing the concoction with beer and getting them to drink it (2014: 187). A trial in 1549 saw a male fern “[t]hrown under a vat of bewitched beer”, which apparently made the vat burst and reveal human bones within as the source of the enchantment” (2014: 193).
Beer Superstitions
Drinking beer in a shop meant you’d enjoy prosperity in future. A beer falling next to a person was a good luck omen. So was spilled beer running towards a person (Daniels 2003 [1903]: 415). Putting a beer bottle on a piano or organ would bring good luck (2003 [1903]: 418).
If you added a coal before the yeast while making beer, it wouldn’t go sour. You were not to think of someone who’d been cross while making small beer, or your beer would end up mild (Daniels 2003 [1903]: 415). Simpson and Roud note an old belief that thunder could spoil stored liquor. Laying an iron bar across the top of a barrel was one way to protect the beer inside from going sour (2003: 359).
Upsetting beer meant you’d have a christening in the house before long (Daniels 2003 [1903]: 415).
If you’re interested in the appearance of beer in Welsh legends and folklore, then Mark Rees has an entire podcast episode about it! Meanwhile, Mark Norman also has a chapter about the folklore of beer and brewing in his book, Telling the Bees and Other Customs: The Folklore of Rural Crafts.
Aegir, Brewer of the Norse Gods
Of course, beer becomes associated with specific figures throughout folklore and mythology. According to Micky Bumbar, Aegir was the brewer for the Asgardian gods. Considered the personification of the sea, he was technically a giant, rather than a god. He was the only giant that had a good relationship with both the Aesir and the Vanir.
Gods weren’t allowed to fight in his hall beneath the sea or they’d be banished forever. His beer is supposedly the best of all the nine realms. Given he offered beer in self-refilling drinking horns, you can see why the gods wouldn’t want to be banished.
According to myth, he brewed his beer in a kettle that was a mile wide and deep. Apparently, Thor stole the kettle from the giant Hymir and gave it to Aegir so he could do his brewing.
His hall was underwater, which meant that anyone who died at sea was “dining in Aegir’s Hall” (Bumbar 2016).
St Dunstan and the Beer
There’s a fascinating legend from southeast Devon concerning St Dunstan, who we’ve met before as the patron saint of blacksmiths. He bought lots of barley to make beer. The Devil turned up and offered to blight the apple trees if St Dunstan sold himself to the Devil. Naturally, with no apple trees, there could be no cider, thus creating more of a demand for beer.
Surprisingly, St Dunstan negotiated a deal with the Devil, but requested the blight should happen in three days’ time, which was the 17-19 May. The 19 May is St Dunstan’s Day. Apple trees were usually in blossom at the time, so if there was a sharp frost, they knew who to blame (Folkard 1884: 223).
This is likely to be a tale invented to explain late frosts that damage trees in May.
Gambrinus, King of Beer
Gambrinus is perhaps the figure more associated with beer than St Dunstan. He’s usually linked with both beer and brewing, often depicted with a mug or tankard of beer.
He’s been linked with a range of real historical figures, including Gambrivius, John I, Duke of Brabant, and John the Fearless.
The most common tale about him comes from a short story by Charles Deulin, published in 1868, in which he’s called Cambrinus. The story sees Cambrinus as a poor young glassblower’s apprentice. He loves Flandrine, his boss’ daughter, but she won’t be interested until he has power and status.
Cambrinus leaves town, heartbroken, and starts playing his violin all over Holland and Belgium. He becomes famous for his prodigious talent, and eventually, the people of his hometown beg him to play a concert. Cambrinus does so, but his ability deserts him when he sees Flandrine in the crowd. The crowd, furious at the turn his concert takes, riots, and Cambrinus is thrown in prison. The Devil comes to him and offers to free him in exchange for his soul.
He gives Cambrinus tremendous luck in gambling, who ends up filthy rich. The Devil introduces him to hops, and teaches him how to make beer. He also gives him a carillon that plays music no one can resist dancing to.
So Cambrinus goes back to his home town and tries to sell his beer in the market square. No one wants it, so he starts playing the carillon, compelling everyone to dance. When they work up a terrific thirst, they finally decide to try his beer. They love it, and Cambrinus becomes a hit. He ends up Duke of Brabant, though most people call him the King of Beer.
Flandrine decides she’s ready to accept him now, so she goes to visit him. He doesn’t recognise her, having finally forgotten her.
Cambrinus lives for another thirty years, as the Devil promised. But it’s finally time to collect. Cambrinus plys the Devil’s messenger with beer and escapes to live for another hundred years. When the Devil learns Cambrinus has died, he turns up to collect his soul in person…except Cambrinus’ body has turned into a beer barrel.
So what do we make of the folklore of beer?
Many of the superstitions and remedies associated with beer focus on its positive effect on the mood, or good luck. It’s very much linked with joviality and high spirits. It helps a mortal man to evade the Devil, and creates a new income stream for St Dunstan.
We don’t even really need these links between beer and witches. While evidence may yet emerge to definitively link ale wives with witchcraft, we’re better off focusing on facts for the time being. And with its use in folk remedies, beer is interesting enough on its own for further study.
References
Andrews, Evan (2018), ‘Who invented beer?’, History.com, https://www.history.com/news/who-invented-beer.
Brooks, Laken (2021), ‘Why Did Women Stop Dominating the Beer Industry?’, Smithsonian Magazine, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/women-used-dominate-beer-industry-until-witch-accusations-started-pouring-180977171/.
Bumbar, Micky (2016), ‘Aegir, the Norse Ruler of the Sea who brew the best beer in all the Nine Worlds’, Lord of the Drinks, https://lordsofthedrinks.wordpress.com/2016/01/12/aegir-the-norse-ruler-of-the-sea-who-brew-the-best-beer-in-all-the-nine-worlds/.
Daniels, Cora Linn and C. M. Stevans (2003 [1903]), Encyclopaedia of Superstitions, Folklore, and the Occult Sciences of the World, Vol. I, Honolulu, HI: University Press of the Pacific.
Folkard, Richard (1884), Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics Embracing the Myths, Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore of the Plant Kingdom, London: Sampson Low.
Gomme, George Laurence (1884), The Gentleman’s Magazine Library: Popular Superstitions, London: Elliot Stock.
McShane, Angela (2018), ‘VAUGHAN WILLIAMS MEMORIAL LIBRARY LECTURE: Drink, Song, and Politics in Seventeenth-Century England’, Folk Music Journal, 11 (3), pp. 107–123.
Ostling, Michael (2014), ‘Witches’ Herbs on Trial’, Folklore, 125 (2), pp. 179–201.
Smith, Gregg (2013), ‘Preface’, in Dan Rubin and Carl Forget (eds), Dictionary of Beer and Brewing, second edition, Abingdon: Routledge, pp. vii-1.
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Jennifer says
Have you read the poem/song John Barleycorn? We have a wonderful illustrated book by Mary Azarian that tells all about it. Supposedly pre-1500s, but scholars believe earlier. Robert Burns wrote a poem John Barleycorn A Ballad in 1782, and of course, Traffic had a hit with it in the early 70s.
Icy Sedgwick says
Yeah, he’s a difficult figure to pin down!