The Annotated Edition
THE WITCH-MOTHER by Algernon Charles Swinburne
A mother, betrayed by her husband who left her for a new wife, makes a pact with the devil and murders her own children.
§01Quick summary
What this poem is about
§02Themes
Recurring themes
§03Line by line
Stanza by stanza, with notes
"O where will ye gang to and where will ye sleep, / Against the night begins?"
Editor's note
A voice without a name asks the woman where she plans to go and rest as night approaches. This question portrays her as a wanderer without a safe haven, laying the groundwork for everything that follows by highlighting her homelessness and desperation.
"My bed is made wi' cauld sorrows, / My sheets are lined wi' sins."
Editor's note
The woman responds in the style of a traditional Scottish ballad. Her references to "bed" and "sheets" are metaphors: she lacks a true home, only carrying grief and guilt. The chill of sorrow feels both physical and emotional—she is genuinely vulnerable to the elements.
"And a sair grief sitting at my foot, / And a sair grief at my head;"
Editor's note
"Sair" translates to sore or heavy in Scots. Grief is depicted as a figure perched at both ends of her bed, resembling a mourner keeping a vigil at a deathbed. The terms "dule" (sorrow) and "teen" (suffering) deepen this personification — her pain is an ever-present, living companion.
"And the rain is sair upon my face, / And sair upon my hair;"
Editor's note
The weather surrounds her. The rain, wind, and snow in the next two stanzas aren't merely background; they signify her as cast out, unprotected, and exposed to nature in a way that women of her time were expected to avoid.
"And the snow upon my heavy lips, / That never shall drink nor eat;"
Editor's note
Her lips feel "heavy" with hunger and despair. The detail about never eating or drinking again suggests her impending death, and the phrase "shame to cledding" (shame in clothing) emphasizes that she has lost both her social status and her shelter.
"But woe be to my bairns' father, / And ever ill fare he:"
Editor's note
Here, the woman identifies the source of her troubles: her husband has married someone new and cast her and their children aside. Her curse — "woe be to" him — isn't supernatural yet, but it hints that a supernatural resolution is on the horizon.
"And what shall they have to their marriage meat / This day they twain are wed?"
Editor's note
The questioning voice now wonders what the wedding feast will include. The woman's replies — "meat of strong crying," "salt of sad sighing" — transform the wedding banquet into a funeral. This back-and-forth of questions and answers reflects the call-and-response style found in traditional ballads, creating a sense of dread.
"And what shall they have to their wedding wine / This day they twain are wed?"
Editor's note
A second round of the same question, now about wine. "Wine of weeping" and "draughts of sleeping" (a sleep that signifies death) intensify the curse. The refrain "And God raise up the dead" carries an ambiguous tone — it might be a prayer or a bitter taunt, and that uncertainty is intentional.
She's tane her to the wild woodside, / Between the flood and fell:
Editor's note
The narrative voice takes over from the dialogue. "Between the flood and fell" positions her in a transitional space—neither water nor hill, neither human world nor wilderness. This is where deals with the devil are made in ballad tradition. The switch to third person gives the action a sense of inevitability, as if it's a story that's already been written.
She's tane her to the wan burnside, / She's wrought wi' sang and spell:
Editor's note
"Wan" (pale) burnside (stream bank) enhances the eerie, supernatural atmosphere. She employs song and spell — the witch's tools — to trade her soul. The soul is promised for "doom and dole," indicating judgment and sorrow, which is a dark bargain even by the poem's own standards.
She's set her young son to her breast, / Her auld son to her knee:
Editor's note
This stanza hits the hardest in the poem. The domestic scene — an infant nursing and an older child sitting close — paints a picture of a caring mother. Swinburne lingers on this image for just one line before introducing the act of killing. The shock lies in that stark contrast.
She looked fu' lang in their een, sighing, / And sair and sair grat she:
Editor's note
She looks into their eyes and weeps before she takes their lives. "Grat" means wept in Scots. This detail complicates her character, preventing the reader from seeing her as just a monster — she loves them, yet she kills them anyway. That is the tragedy at the heart of the poem.
She's sodden their flesh wi' saft water, / She's mixed their blood with wine:
Editor's note
The description of preparing the children's bodies as food is straightforward and unflinching. The intentional mixing of blood with wine invokes the Eucharist, creating a startling inversion — a dark communion offered at a wedding rather than during a Mass.
She poured the red wine in his cup, / And his een grew fain to greet:
Editor's note
"Fain to greet" means eager to weep — his eyes brim with tears, even though he doesn't yet understand why. His body senses something that his mind hasn't grasped. This detail comes from earlier versions of the Thyestes myth and the ballad of "The Cruel Mother."
Says, "Eat your fill of your flesh, my lord, / And drink your fill of your wine;"
Editor's note
The woman discloses her actions. "Your flesh" is the crucial phrase — the children belong to him just as much as they do to her, and she is making him partake in what he discarded. The way she says "my lord" drips with icy sarcasm.
Says, "Drink your fill of your wine, my lord, / And eat your fill of your bread:"
Editor's note
She expresses one last wish: that the children once again live within her, or that she were dead instead. This isn't the triumphant speech of a villain — it's a mother's grief articulated in a moment of utter horror. She has obliterated everything, including herself.
He struck her head frae her fair body, / And dead for grief he fell:
Editor's note
He kills her and then succumbs to his grief. The rapidity of both deaths — two lines — aligns with the ballad tradition, where consequences come without fanfare. The final couplet accounts for the cost: two souls (the children) in heaven, two souls (the adults) in hell. It's a form of justice, albeit a dreadful one.
§04Tone & mood
How this poem feels
§05Symbols & metaphors
Symbols & metaphors
- The wedding feast
- The feast serves as the setting for revenge and the poem's main twist. What should be a joyful celebration of new life transforms into a meal of death. This scenario resonates with the classical myth of Thyestes, who was deceived into consuming his own children, turning the wedding banquet into a dark Eucharist.
- Rain, snow, and wind
- The elements striking the woman's face and lips reveal her exclusion from human society. In ballad tradition, being exposed to the elements signifies social death — she lacks a roof, a husband, and any form of protection. The cold embodies both a literal chill and a moral chill.
- The wild woodside and wan burnside
- Liminal spaces exist between our world and the supernatural. In Scottish folklore, the boundary of the woods and the bank of a stream are where witches forge their pacts. When a woman visits these sites, she crosses an irreversible threshold.
- Blood mixed with wine
- A purposeful twist on the Eucharist. While communion wine symbolizes salvation and sacrifice, this wine stands for damnation and vengeance. The similarity is no mistake — Swinburne was genuinely fascinated by the clash between Christian rituals and pagan shadows.
- The children at breast and knee
- The image of a nursing infant and a child sitting at their mother's knee is the most iconic representation of maternal love in Western art. Swinburne positions it right before the killing to heighten the emotional impact and emphasize that love and destruction can coexist in the same moment.
- Heaven and hell in the final couplet
- The count of two souls in heaven and two in hell reflects the poem's moral assessment. The children are innocent and saved, while the adults face damnation. It's a grim form of justice — everyone suffers, and the only ones who find refuge are those who had no say in the matter.
§06Historical context
Historical context
§07FAQ
Questions readers ask
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