The Æcerbot is one of the famous Old English “metrical charms” that details lengthy prescriptions for ritual performances if a field fails to produce crops.1 It has attracted much debate over many decades. Scholars initially viewed it as providing evidence of surviving pagan customs in eleventh-century England before more nuanced interpretations of it were made as a popular, perhaps heterodox, Christian performance, if not a ritual script akin to a liturgical ordine for a procession or exorcism.2 One striking feature of this field remedy that has at times been at the center of these debates is its unique triple invocation of “erce,” which is then followed by an address to “eorþan modor,” or “mother of earth.” Immediately following this is a second address to the earth as the mother of men (“folde fira modor”), possibly a separate maternal figure. Uncovering the meaning of this perhaps most obscure part of the text would almost certainly aid in the interpretation of the field ritual as a whole and cast light on some spiritual practices of at least one farming community in pre-Conquest England. This article seeks to contribute new readings of both “erce” and “eorþan modor” to previous discussions. It proposes that Marian features underpin this invocation and that the Æcerbot as a whole is a dramatic and highly symbolic reenactment of the Incarnation to impregnate the earth, resurrect its crops, and transform the poisoned earthly field into a fertile, spiritually renewed one resembling a celestial realm.The Æcerbot survives in a single copy on folios 176r-78r of London, British Library, MS Cotton Caligula A. vii, and paleographical evidence indicates that it was written in southern England in the first half of the eleventh century.3 At some point the Æcerbot was added to the C version of the Heliand, which is an Old Saxon heroic retelling of the gospels in verse, and it was also copied in southern England, probably Winchester or Canterbury, in the second half of the tenth century, on paleographical and contextual grounds.4 Cotton Caligula A. vii contains only these two texts, and when these were bound together has been a point of dispute because the codicological evidence of the manuscript is inconclusive, leading some scholars to claim that they were bound by an eleventh-century reader and others to argue that they were compiled by Robert Cotton.5 However, a marginal note in an eleventh-century hand that is similar to and contemporary with the Æcerbot scribe was also made in this copy of the Heliand. It simply reads “be sancta marian” and appears on folio 17r beside a section that narrates the Annunciation of Christ's Incarnation by the archangel Gabriel to the Blessed Virgin Mary.6 It is the only note made in this hand in the Heliand C copy and it indicates that an eleventh-century reader was particularly drawn to this part of the Old Saxon poem.7The eleventh-century note in the Heliand draws attention to the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary as angels descend to her from what is described as the field of heaven (“heƀanuuang”). The Annunciation passage is filled with references to “heƀanuuang,” the Old Saxon equivalent to Old English “neorxnawang,” which appears extensively throughout the Old English corpus in references to both Eden and a paradisiacal realm where Christians dwell after death until Doomsday. The motif of a heavenly land as a fruitful, fertile, and irrigated field or garden is common in early medieval Germanic literature and is found in both Christian and (much less frequently) pagan mythological contexts.8 The Heliand's descriptions of “heƀanuuang” strongly resonate with aspects of the Æcerbot, which seeks to transfigure an earthly field from its unfruitful and poisoned state. However, as the marginal note in the Annunciation scene indicates, there is a deeper commonality between these two texts, as the motherly figures in both create a porosity between heaven and earth and facilitate the unification of the two realms.The Heliand's marginal note is contemporary with the Æcerbot scribe but it is written in a different ink and almost certainly by a different hand to that of the ritual text.9 While it is impossible to determine whether the Old Saxon poem inspired features of the field ritual, the marginal scribe's interest in the relationship between Mary and “heƀanuuang”—references to which are clustered in the Annunciation and Nativity scenes of the poem—suggests that further readings of the maternal figures that are invoked in the Æcerbot may be found. The latter text also directly invokes the Blessed Virgin twice, prescribes liturgical prayers associated with the Annunciation and Nativity, and contains various other Marian features. Furthermore, when read alongside the section of the Heliand narrating the Incarnation story, the Æcerbot's famous enigmatic appeal to “Mother Earth” is brought into better relief. These shared understandings of the roles of mothers in the unification of the heavenly and earthly fields may offer further evidence to support the argument for an eleventh-century binding. The marginal note drawing attention to Mary was added to the Heliand around the same time as when the Æcerbot was copied, and their common interest in mothers, impregnation, childbirth, and an agricultural Paradise suggests that they were bound together not long after the Æcerbot's production, perhaps even in the same minster.The Æcerbot includes Masses, litanies, liturgical objects, prayers from the Mass and the Divine Office, and prescribed passages to be recited in Latin and (predominantly) Old English for the exorcism of a field that has been made infertile by evil forces. It is a script for an elaborate ritual performance that concludes with the symbolic cutting of the first furrow, probably for a farming community in a manorial or ecclesiastical setting.10 It aims to expel the evil that is believed to be sown throughout the land by a poisoner, which was perhaps brought about on account of the sins of the community, although no penitential psalms are prescribed. Its goal is to resurrect the field's crops, to restore a fruitful harvest, and to spiritually renew the Christian community.Following initial instructions to cut four sods from each of the field's four corners, a concoction is to be made consisting of holy water, oil, honey, yeast, the milk of each animal on the land, each type of soft tree that grows there, and each type of herb (except burdock). In light of the “Crescite” passage that is to be recited following this instruction, the ingredients that are placed onto the sods represent all growing things on the land, over which God gave power to Adam when he was commanded to grow and multiply.11 The concoction is then dripped onto each of the sods before the “Crescite” passage is to be said, which is given with an interlexical translation allowing for recital in either Old English or Latin: “Crescite. wexe. et multiplicamini. ⁊ gemænigfealda. et replete. ⁊ gefylle. terre. þas eorðan. In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti.”12 This passage is taken from Genesis 1:28, where God commands Adam to populate the earth, and it also reoccurs later in Genesis 8:17, when God establishes a new covenant with Noah after the Flood and commands him to repopulate the world.13Thomas Hill and John Niles both argue that the Creation story is central to this ritual text because the “Crescite” passage is to be repeated several times throughout the ritual performance.14 Furthermore, Hill also draws attention to the possible influence of early medieval exegetical traditions on aspects of the ritual that evoke the Creation story. For instance, the Hiberno-Latin apocryphal tradition about the fashioning of Adam (De Plasmatione Adam) claims that Adam was a microcosm created from four clods that were taken from the corners of the world and watered from the four rivers of Paradise, and Hill sees connections between this and the Æcerbot's instructions to bless four sods from each corner of the field with four crosses placed beneath each sod.15 For Hill, the blessing of these quaternities reiterates Adam's fashioning, situating the later invoked “Mother Earth” in this Christian context as the mother of Adam and his offspring.16There are obvious Edenic parallels at play in the Æcerbot as God's command to Adam to fill the earth was given before the Fall, and it was through the poisonous advice of the snake that difficulty and pain were brought to both the cultivation of the earth and childbirth (Genesis 3:16–20): mulieri quoque dixit “multiplicabo aerumnas tuas et conceptus tuos in dolore paries filios” . . . ad Adam vero dixit . . . “maledicta terra in opere tuo in laboribus comedes eam cunctis diebus vitae tuae spinas et tribulos germinabit tibi et comedes herbas terrae in sudore vultus tui vesceris pane donec revertaris in terram de qua sumptus es quia pulvis es et in pulverem reveretis” et vocavit Adam nomen uxoris suae Hava eo quod mater esset cunctorum viventium.17[To the woman also he said, “I will multiply your sorrows, and your conceptions: in sorrow you shall bring forth children . . . ” And to Adam he said . . . “cursed is the earth in your work; with labour and toil you shall eat thereof all the days of your life. Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to you; and you shall eat the herbs of the earth. In the sweat of your face shall you eat bread until you return to the earth, out of which you were taken: for dust you are, and into dust you shall return.” And Adam called the name of his wife Eve: because she was the mother of all the living.]18The Æcerbot seeks to redress the effects of the curse of Adam and Eve in driving out hostile forces that have cursed the field and impeded the birth and fruitful growth of its crops. Indeed, its opening statement presents it as a remedy against evil forces that have been sown throughout the land: “HER ẎS SEO BÓT HV ÐV MEAHT þine æceras betan gif hi nellaþ wel wexan oþþe þær hwilc ungedefe þing on gedón bið on drẏ oððe on lyblace” (Here is the remedy, how you may better your land, if it will not grow well or if some harmful thing has been done to it by a sorcerer [dry] or by a poisoner [lyblace]).19 The ritual aims to symbolically restore an Edenic setting that was fertile and undefiled before the Fall. Together with other features in the ritual—particularly the address to the earth as mother—the “Crescite” passage emphasizes the earth's fertility and maternity. This command from Genesis marks the beginning of a long process of the spiritual purification of the field that has been poisoned by evil forces, and this Biblical passage is repeated throughout the rite like a refrain.After the “Crescite” passage is said for the first time, the four sods are placed beneath an altar, and four Masses are sung before the end of the day.20 Following this, each of four wooden crosses bearing the names of the evangelists are placed into the corners of the field in the holes left by the four sods, and “Crux matheus. Crux. marcus. Crux. Lucas. Crux. Sanctus. Iohannes” is recited as this is done. This demarcation of agricultural space with the power of the cross closely parallels other early medieval liturgical processions, particularly in church dedication rites.21 After the sods have been placed back into the ground and above the crosses, the “Crescite” passage is recited a further nine times with the Paternoster.22 The repetition of this command from Genesis, the invocation of the four evangelists, the harnessing of the power of the cross, and the recital of the Paternoster explicitly correlate the field with the Biblical landscape of the Old and New Testaments. It is worth highlighting that the invocation of the evangelists is here just as significant as the recital of God's command to Adam and Noah, as they represent God's fulfilled promise in the beginning of the New Covenant in the Messianic era.The celebrant(s) is (/are) then instructed to bow nine times facing east before reciting a lengthy passage of prescribed words. This gesturing to the east has been interpreted as being symbolic of facing the rising of the sun, perhaps even stemming from ancient sun worship, but the significance of facing toward Jerusalem is obvious, and contemporary materials depict the east as the location of an earthly Paradise.23 Furthermore, the Regularis Concordia prescribes that whenever monks assemble together, they should bow to the east to honor the cross.24 Then follows the lengthy passage that includes invocations of God, the earth and sky, Mary, and all the heavenly powers: eastweard ic stande arena ic me bidde, bidde ic þone mæran domine. bidde ðone miclan drihten [fol. 177r] bidde ic ðone haligan heofonrices weard. eorðan ic bidde ⁊ úpheofon ⁊ ða soþan sancta marian. ⁊ heofones meaht. ⁊ heah reced þæt ic mote þis gealdor mid gife drihtnes toðum ontẏnan þurh trumne geþanc acweccan þas wæstmas us to woruldnytte gefylle þas foldan mid fæste geleafan wlitigigan þas wancgturf . . . [Eastwards I stand, for mercies I pray, I pray the great domine (lord), I pray the powerful lord, I pray the holy guardian of heaven-kingdom, earth I pray and sky and the true sancta (holy) Mary and heaven's might and high hall, that I may this charm (galdor) by the gift of the lord open with (my) teeth through firm thought, to call forth these plants for our worldly use, to fill this land with firm belief, to beautify this grassy turf . . . ]25The passage makes clear that the resurrection of the earth's crops is dependent upon both God's mercies and grace (“arena,” “gife drihtnes”) and the community's firm faith (“fæste geleafan”). The appeal to the earth and sky (“eorðan,” “úpheofon”) and Mary reflects her role as a mediator and gateway between these two realms, as underscored, for instance, in the earliest English illustration of the Coronation of the Virgin in the Benedictional of Æthelwold (London, British Library, MS Add. 49598, fol. 102v, Winchester, 971 × 984).26Following these invocations, a series of liturgical prayers is to be recited while prostrated, and each of these has particular resonance with the ritual as a whole: wende þe þonne. iii. sunganges astrece þonne on andlang ⁊ arim þær letanias ⁊ cweð þonne. sanctus. sanctus. sanctus. oþ ende. sing þonne benedicite aþenedon earmon. ⁊ magnificat. ⁊ pater noster. iii. ⁊ bebeod hit xpe (Criste) ⁊ sancta marian. ⁊ þære halgan rode . .[Then turn thrice with the sun's course, stretch out lengthwise and enumerate there the litanies and say then: Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus to the end. Sing then Benedicite with outstretched arms and Magnificat and Pater noster thrice, and commend it (the land) to Christ and saint Mary and the holy cross . . . ]27Praying the litanies would have invoked an extensive number of saints, probably including Biblical figures, Church Fathers, patrons, and local saints, thus extending the preceding supplication of the evangelists, Mary, and all of heaven's might. Given also that this was to be repeated at three different times of the day, the litanies could have trebled the number of saints invoked. The prescribed times correlate with three of the monastic hours, and the Regularis Concordia also specifies that it was customary to be prostrated whenever litanies were recited during the Office.28The litanies are followed by the Tersanctus, which is a composite of a seraphic hymn from Isaiah (6:3) and the cries of praise at Christ's entry into Jerusalem in Matthew (21:9). The hymn would have been used in the previous four Masses immediately before the Institution Narrative for the transformation of the bread and wine into Christ's body and blood. The Tersanctus signals Christ's descent from heaven into the world, and the recital of this liturgical prayer in the field anticipates Christ's coming in the words “benedictus qui uenit in nomine domini” (blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord), as well as reiterating the previous correlation of heaven and earth in its phrase “pleni sunt caeli et uniuersa terra gloria tua” (the heavens and universal earth are full of your glory).29 Christ's glorious descent from heaven to the earthly field would have been made explicit in the full recital of this prayer.The Benedicite is then to be sung, which is a canticle that was recited in the Office of Lauds on Sundays and solemnities.30 It praises God in all of His Creation and is inclusive of the angels in heaven (“angeli domini”), the heavenly powers (“omnes uirtutes domini”), the waters above the heavens (“aque quem super caelos sunt”), the elements (“terra,” “ignis,” “maria et flumina”), everything that grows in the land (“omnia nascentia terrae”), all the creatures of the earth (“uolueres,” “bestiae,” “uniuersa peccora”), the children of all mankind (“filii hominum”), the spirits and souls of the just (“spiritus et animae iustorum”), and the holy and humble of heart (“sancti et humiles cordi”).31 Laurence Shook argued that this liturgical prayer was not selected at random for the Æcerbot “because it calls upon universa germinantia in terra to bless the Lord,” but the entire prayer is fitting for the detailed content and context of the field ritual as a whole.32 Furthermore, this liturgical prayer is only prescribed in four other so-called “charm” rituals, indicating a conscious inclusion of specific prayers with more common ones, and an application of them to certain circumstances for which they are relevant.33 The Benedicite is a canticle that summons the whole of the cosmos to praise God, offering an extension to the previous invocation of the entirety of heaven.The Magnificat that is to be sung next is the prayer that Mary proclaimed after the Annunciation when she visited her cousin Elizabeth, who also miraculously conceived John the Baptist after the angel Gabriel announced his conception to his father Zechariah (Lk 1:46–55). The Magnificat was recited as a canticle in the daily Office of Vespers.34 Two particular lines of the Magnificat stand out in relation to the wider context of the Æcerbot. Its words “esurientes impleuit bonis et diuites dimisit inanes” (he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty) have particular significance in a ritual for a field that has had a poor harvest.35 Secondly, the prayer concludes with “Suscepit israhel puerum suum. recordatus misericordię suae. Sicut locutus est ad patres nostros. abraham et semini eius in saeculum” (He has protected Israel his servant, remembering his mercy. As he said to our fathers, Abraham and his seed for all ages).36 Mary positions her pregnancy within the context of Abraham's line, and her son is the direct descendant of Abraham's seed (“semini”), fulfilling God's covenant with this patriarch. As Christ, the seed of Abraham, is planted in Mary's womb, so too it is hoped that the field will be impregnated with fertile seed and the Christian community will be under God's protection.The Paternoster is then said three more times, and this liturgical prayer has obvious resonances with the aims of the field ritual in its words “panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie” (give us today our daily bread).37 Furthermore, its petition for God's will to be done on earth as it is in heaven (“fiat uoluntas tua sicut in cęlo et in terra”) echoes earlier phrases in the ritual that correlate heaven and earth. Its plea for the forgiveness of sins and liberation from evil (“dimitte nobis debita nostra,” “sed libera nos a malo”) also reinforces the ritual's aim to drive the physical and spiritual evil from the field and the community.38 These specified liturgical prayers each have resonance with particular aspects of the Æcerbot and were not selected at random. The Paternoster, at least, would have undoubtedly been aurally familiar to illiterate participants, and it is likely that they would have heard litanies recited in Masses and other rites as well. But the subtleties in the relevance of specific petitions in each of these prayers—which are prescribed by their title alone—point toward a composer and intended performer(s) who were well versed in the liturgy and Divine Office, suggesting that the Æcerbot was written or copied in a religious house that had arable land and served a larger lay community.Following these liturgical prayers, the field is once again commended to Christ, Mary, and the cross (“bebeod hit xpē ⁊ sancta marian. ⁊ þære halgan rode”), associating its revitalization with the Incarnation and the instrument through which salvation was won, which at this point is also now present in each corner of the field. Seed is then to be disproportionately exchanged in almsgiving, which Thomas Hill believes is one of the most important factors for the ritual's success.39 In addition, the seed is a symbol of Christ in the gospels (Mt 13:3–32; Mk 4:3–20; Lk 8:4–15; see also Gal 3:16), and so the charitable sowing of the field and its anticipated rich harvest will come to symbolize the spiritual harvest of the Christian community.40After the exchange of seed in almsgiving, the new seed is set on top of the plough, which has a hole bored in it so that incense, fennel, soap, and salt can be put inside. John Niles noted parallels between this prescription and later traditions of blessing ploughs on Plough Sunday, which was the first Sunday after the Epiphany (6 January).41 Niles suggested that the Æcerbot may have been a precedent of later communal processions on Plough Sunday and Plough Monday, and it is interesting to note when this particular celebration occurs in the liturgical calendar. The gospel reading for the first Sunday after the Epiphany is Luke 2:42–5242—the finding of the boy Jesus in the temple—and this Sunday marks the conclusion of the Christmas season, which begins with the anticipation of the coming of Christ during Advent and concludes with the coming of the Magi. If the Æcerbot was intended for performance towards the end of Christmastide, as Niles suggested, there would be clear echoes of the Incarnation in places. For example, similarities can be seen between the Æcerbot's petitions and overall purpose and the seasonal Rorate caeli chant (from Is 45:8), which was used in the liturgy as an antiphon and refrain during Advent and after Gaudete Sunday: “Rorate caeli desuper et nubes pluant iustum, aperiatur terra et germinet saluatorem” (Drop down dew, you heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain the just: let the earth be opened, and bud forth a saviour).43 Summoning the earth to open so that salvation may be brought about is a central tenet of the field ritual, and would have undoubtedly reminded its ecclesiastical participants of the liturgical anticipation of Christ's Incarnation.44Another plausible time of the year for performance is Rogationtide, which is the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday before the feast of the Ascension (between 26 April and 30 May).45 However, drawing on the work of Debby Banham and Rosamond Faith, Karen Jolly raises problematic issues with these suggested times of year because they do not correlate with the availability of some of the Æcerbot's prescribed ingredients, which are dependent on different seasons.46 As Jolly concludes, it is likely that this rite would have been intended to be used at a time when a field had produced a bad harvest rather than at a set time of the liturgical year, similar to a votive Mass.Once the plough is filled, the famous invocation of “Mother Earth” is to be said when the first furrow is cut: erce. erce. erce. eorþan modor geunne þe se alwalda ece drihten æcera wexendra ⁊ wridendra, eacniendra ⁊ elniendra sceafta hense scira wæstma. ⁊ þære bradan bere wæstma. ⁊ þæra hwitan hwæte wæstma. ⁊ ealra eorþan wæstma. geunne him ece drihten ⁊ his halige þe on eofonum synt þæt hẏs ẏrþ si gefriþod wið ealra feonda gehwæne ⁊ heo si geborgen wið ealra bealwa gehwylc þara lyblaca geond land sawen. [fol. 178r] Nu ic bidde ðone waldend se ðe ðas woruld gesceop þæt ne sẏ nan to þæs cwidol wíf ne to þæs cræftig man þæt awendan, ˄ne mæge˄ woru(l erased)d þus gecwedene.[Erce, Erce, Erce, earth's mother, May the all-ruler grant you, the eternal lord, fields growing and flourishing, propagating and strengthening, tall shafts, bright crops, and broad barley crops, and white wheat crops, and all earth's crops. May the eternal lord grant him, and all his holy ones, who are in heaven, that his produce be guarded against any enemy whatsoever, and that it be safe against any harm at all, from poisons (lyblaca) sown around the land. Now I bid the Master, who shaped this world, that there be no speaking-woman (cwidol wif) nor artful man (cræftig man) that can overturn these words thus spoken.]47The invocation of “erce” and “eorþan modor” has drawn various interpretations. Traditionally, “Erce” has been associated with ancient pagan goddesses of fertility. In 1883, Jacob Grimm proposed that it refers to a Germanic goddess called “Herke” or “Harke” on philological grounds.48 Godfrid Storms and Louis Rodrigues saw a comparison between “erce” and Ceres, the mother of Proserpine and the goddess of agriculture, most likely through reference to Isidore of Seville's description of “Mother Earth”: Cererem, id est terram, a creandis frugibus adserunt dictam, appellantes eam nominibus plurimis. Dicunt etiam eam et Opem, quod opere melior fiat terra; Proserpinam, quod ex ea proserpiant fruges; Vestam, quod herbis vel variis vestita sit rebus, vel a vi sua stando. Eandem et Tellurem et Matrem magnam fingunt, turritam cum tympano et gallo et strepitu cymbalorum. Matrem vocatam, quod plurima pariat; magnam, quod cibum gignat; almam, quia universa animalia fructibus suis alit. Est enim alimentorum nutrix terra. Quod simulacrum eius cum clavi fingitur, quia tellus hieme clauditur, vere aperitur ut fruges nascantur.49[They (pagans) maintain that Ceres, that is, the earth, is so called from the creating (creare) of crops, and they call her by many names. They also say she is Ops (i.e. ‘plenty’), because the earth is made better by her work (opus). Proserpina, because from her the fruits “spread forth” (proserpere). Vesta, because she is clothed (vestire) with plants and various things, or from “enduring by her own power” (vi sua stare). They imagine this same one as both Earth (Tellus) and the Great Mother (Mater Magna), turret-crowned with drum and cock and clash of cymbals. She is called “Mother” because she bears many offspring; “Great” because she produces food; “the Bountiful” (Alma) because she nourishes all animals with her produce—for earth is the nursery of food. Her image is imagined with a key because the earth is locked up in the winter, and is opened in the spring so that crops are born.]50In 1972, Audrey Duckert presented several possible parallels from Celtic sources to explain “erce.”51 She highlighted that the names “Erca” and “Erc” appear for women and men respectively in Irish hagiographical sources, where “Erca” is the name of embroideresses to Sts. Patrick and Columcille, and “Erc” is the name of a king of Dál Riata in the tripartite Life of Saint Patrick.52 She also raises the possibility that it is a corruption of “arcre,” which appears in other Old English formulas such as one beginning “arcus supeð assedit uirgo canabið” in the so-called Lacnunga section of London, British Library, MS Harley 585 (s. xi1, probably Winchester).53Finally, Duckert also raised the possibility that this may not be a name at all but a verb form, and she proposed that “erce” could be cognate with Old Welsh erchim (I bid, I ask).54 In a similar vein, John Niles suggested that “erce” could simply be a corruption of ecce (Lat. “behold”) rather than a personal name, although this is unconvincing.55 Most recently, Caroline Batten and Mark Williams have proposed that “erce” is the second singular present subjunctive form of Old Irish ercaid (is abundant, increases, flourishes), rendering this phrase “may you increase, may you increase, may you increase.”56 Although they point out that this form is not attested in any surviving Irish text, Batten and Williams conclude that this possibility is even more plausible when one considers other crosscultural exchanges between England and Ireland in the early medieval period.57 While this is perhaps the most convincing argument on linguistic and contextual grounds, another reading that has not yet been considered is that “erce” could be a phonetic spelling of the imperative form of Latin herciare, which according to the Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources means “to harrow, break ground.”58 The earliest appearances of this verb are in the Domesday Book of 1086 (once), the Chronicon Petroburgense (in entries for the 1120s), and the Chartulary of Burton Abbey (also in the twelfth century).59 It also has cognates in Old French “hercier” and Anglo-Norman “hercer, herser.”60 Although the first of these instances appears some half a century later than the paleographical dating of the Æcerbot's scribal hand, reading “erce” as an early form of a loan word meaning “to harrow, break ground” makes more sense of this invocation than reconstructions of the name of a pagan goddess. It is most probable, then, that the phrase “erce. erce. erce. eorþan modor” is a triple summoning of the earth's mother to open up and accept the new blessed seed as the field is first ploughed to flourish under the Eternal Lord (“ece drihten”).Despite the ambiguity surrounding the meaning of “erce,” the roles of the mother of earth (“eorþan,” gen. sg.) and the earth as mother of men (“folde fira modor”) remain critical in the ritual, and from this point onward the focus of the Æcerbot is on these maternal figures. Indeed, this has led Debby Banham to see two distinct halves to this text: It does seem to me that the character of the two halves [of the Æcerbot] is rather different, and the reason for this may be that the