Imagine this: it’s the middle of the night, yet the sky is still bright. The fire crackles, someone is laughing somewhere, the scent of herbs wafts through the warm air – and for a moment, the world feels just a little bit more magical. That’s exactly what 24 June is like. What is known today as St John’s Day or Johanni has roots that run deeper than most people realise: back thousands of years to the Germanic tribes, to the Vikings, to people who did not take the sun for granted and celebrated its power with fire, dance and community. In this post, we’ll take you on this journey – through history, mythology and plenty of practical DIY ideas.
What you can expect in this article
- The roots: the summer solstice among the Germanic tribes and Vikings
- From Midsummer to St John’s Day: the Christian transformation
- The St John’s Fire: From the Viking Age to the present day
- The nine sacred St John’s herbs: magic in the meadow
- DIY: Make your own St John’s Wort oil (red oil)
- DIY: Making a St John’s wreath
- Recipe: St John’s Wort mead – the summer drink of our ancestors
- Recipe: Medieval herb butter with St John’s wort
- St John’s Day today: tradition with a future
Reading time approx. 17 mins.
The roots: the summer solstice among the Germanic tribes and Vikings
Long before Saint John existed, our ancestors knew the festival of Midsummer Night. The summer solstice – around 21 June – was one of the holiest events of the whole year for the Germanic tribes and Vikings. The sun is at its highest point, the nights are vanishingly short, and the power of the light seems boundless. Yet within this triumph, the light already carries the seed of its own demise: from this day onwards, the nights grow longer again. The solstice was therefore not merely a festival of joy – it was a threshold festival, a moment between jubilation and sorrow, between the zenith of light and the onset of darkness.
The Germanic peoples: fire, spirits and the annual cycle
For the pre-Christian Germanic peoples, the summer solstice – which they called ‘Sonnwend’ or ‘Litha’ – was a major festival in the eight-pointed cycle of the year, which marked the most important cosmic turning points. Their worldview was deeply interwoven with the rhythms of nature: sowing and harvest, light and darkness, life and death – everything had its time, and at the transitions the world was as thin as a veil.
On Midsummer’s Eve, the Germanic peoples believed that the boundaries between the worlds became permeable. The Otherworld, the realm of spirits and the dead, drew near. This meant danger – but also opportunity. Those who knew how to behave could gain protection on this night, consult the future and reap healing powers. Those who were unprepared risked being led astray by nature spirits, will-o’-the-wisps or wandering souls.
Fire was the most important tool of this night. It was lit as a shield against evil and seen as a plea to the gods for protection and fertility for both humans and animals. Herds of cattle were driven through the smoke to protect them from disease – a custom that survived in some rural regions well into the 20th century. And the herbs? They were considered particularly potent because they were imbued with the power of the Midsummer sun.
The Vikings: Midsummer as a community festival
The Vikings – whose culture shaped Northern Europe from around 793 to 1066 AD – celebrated the summer solstice as ‘Midsummer’. For them, it was first and foremost a social event of enormous significance. In the vast Scandinavian landscape, where clans and kin often lived days’ journey apart, the Midsummer festival was one of the few fixed occasions to come together.
People gathered at the great things – the assembly places where justice was administered and politics conducted. Merchants came from far and wide, alliances were forged, marriages arranged, and disputes settled. The Midsummer festival was at once a market, a court, a festival and a religious ceremony. Those without a fire were alone – and in the early medieval North, being alone was virtually synonymous with danger.
In Norse mythology, the summer solstice is inextricably linked to Baldur, the radiant god of light and purity. The Prose Edda recounts how Baldur is killed by a mistletoe branch – the only living thing that had been forgotten when the universal oath was sworn. Baldur’s death is regarded as a harbinger of the twilight of the gods, Ragnarök. The midsummer fires therefore also burned as a mourning for the fading light – and as a reminder that even the brightest light can fade.
No less significant was Freyr, the ruler of the sun, rain and fertility. Sacrifices were offered in his honour – animals, food, mead – in the hope of a bountiful harvest. Freyr was not a god of war; he embodied the benevolence of nature. Those who honoured him honoured life itself.
Also remarkable is the astronomical precision with which the Norse determined the solstice. The alignment of numerous burial mounds and Stone Age monuments in Scandinavia shows that the Vikings’ ancestors had been observing the sun’s position with precision for millennia. Knowledge of the sun and stars was not abstract scholarly knowledge – it was vital for survival at a time when agriculture depended on precise timing.
From Midsummer to St John’s Day: the Christian transformation
With the Christianisation of Northern Europe – in Scandinavia between the 9th and 12th centuries, and in German lands even earlier – the Church faced a formidable challenge: what to do with the people’s deeply rooted festivals, rituals and beliefs? A direct ban would have provoked massive resistance. The solution was more astute: overwriting rather than banning.
The Church’s strategy
As early as 601, Pope Gregory I set out the guiding principle in a famous letter to the missionary bishop Mellitus: ancient shrines should not be destroyed, but consecrated. Ancient festivals should not be banned, but reinterpreted. People need their festivals – one simply has to give them other reasons to celebrate.
Thus the Midsummer festival became the feast of St John the Baptist, celebrated on 24 June. The date was chosen for theological reasons: according to the Gospel of Luke, John the Baptist was six months older than Jesus – so his birthday was set exactly six months before Christmas. The symbolism was ingenious: whilst the sun grows weaker each day after the solstice, the light of Christ grows. John himself says in the Gospel of John: ‘He must increase, but I must decrease.’ The waning of the sunlight after 24 June became a theological statement.
What remained – and what changed
The customs themselves hardly changed. The fires continued to burn – now in honour of the Baptist. Herbs continued to be gathered and blessed – now in the church rather than in the sacred grove. The magical night remained a magical night. What the Church could not – or would not – override was the deeply rooted belief that 24 June was a night of special power.
Herbalists, midwives and monastic physicians kept the knowledge of medicinal plants alive. Saint Hildegard of Bingen (1098–1179) described St John’s wort and other summer herbs in detail in her medical writings – in the firm belief that God had placed healing power within the plants. Hildegard was no exception; she was the visible tip of a vast iceberg of folk medicinal knowledge that continued to thrive alongside the Church.
The High Middle Ages: The heyday of St John’s Day
In the High Middle Ages (c. 1000–1300), St John’s Day was one of the biggest folk festivals of the year – comparable only to Christmas and Easter. In towns and villages, huge bonfires were lit, and there was a sense of exuberance that was otherwise scarcely tolerated. The strict class distinctions of everyday life softened for one night: peasants celebrated alongside townspeople, and the nobility spared no expense.
Young men leapt over the flames to secure courage, health and good fortune for the coming year – the higher the leap, the better the harvest. Lovers jumped together to seal their bond. Girls and women wove wreaths from St John’s wort, roses and yarrow and placed them in streams and springs – if the wreath floated straight ahead, it signalled a speedy marriage; if it spun round, they would have to wait a while longer.
The bunches of herbs, known as ‘Johannisbüschl’, were gathered in the early hours of 24 June, blessed in church and then hung up in the house. According to popular belief, they were supposed to protect against lightning strikes, illness and evil spirits – and remained hanging all year round, until the next St John’s Day.
Particularly noteworthy: in many regions, the St John’s fire was not lit with flint, but had to be created by friction – the so-called ‘emergency fire’. This fire was considered particularly pure because it was born from the wood itself without human tools. A direct echo of ancient shamanic practices that had persisted through all the transformations.
The Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Period: Between Popular Piety and the Witch-Hunts
In the late Middle Ages (1300–1500) and the early modern period, the St John’s festival came under increasing pressure. A Church exercising stricter control viewed folk magic and superstition with growing suspicion. What had previously been regarded as a pious custom – herb gathering, fires, divination – was classified by some theologians as dangerously close to witchcraft.
In particular, the notion that on St John’s Night witches rode to Blocksberg to dance with the devil there became widespread during this period. The ancient knowledge of the herbalists was criminalised. What had previously been considered healing and honourable was now viewed with suspicion.
Nevertheless, almost all the customs survived. The fires continued to burn, the wreaths were still woven, and St John’s wort oil was still produced – albeit somewhat more discreetly. Folk medicine was simply too practical, too vital, to be suppressed. That is perhaps the most important insight: true knowledge cannot be eradicated.
The St John’s Fire: From the Viking Age to the present day
The St John’s Fire is the heart of the festival – and always has been. What has changed over the centuries are the reasons behind it. What has remained the same is the fire itself.
| Region | Custom | Symbolic meaning |
|---|---|---|
| Scandinavia (Viking Age) | Community fire at the thing site | Community, protection, lament for Baldur |
| German-speaking world | Throwing straw dolls into the fire | Symbolic sacrifice, warding off misfortune |
| Rhineland & Bavaria | Rolling burning wheels down the mountainside | Imitating the sun’s path, spreading the sun’s power |
| Ore Mountains & Bohemia | Swinging glowing ‘sun discs’ on poles | Bringing light to the land, driving away evil spirits |
| Sweden / Denmark / Norway | Decorating the midsummer tree with wreaths and dancing | Fertility, community, celebration of life |
| All of Europe (to this day) | Bonfires, jumping over fires, blessing of herbs | Purification, protection, celebrating transition |
What unites all these traditions: fire as a purifying, protective and community-building element. Anyone sitting by the St John’s fire was part of the community. That is just as true today as it was a thousand years ago.
You don’t need much for your own St John’s Fire – just the right things:
- A safe spot outdoors – please check your local regulations on open fires
- Dry wood, preferably birch, oak or hazel (historically preferred types of wood)
- Optional: throw dried herbs such as St John’s wort, mugwort and yarrow onto the fire – it smells wonderful and is historically documented
- A mug of mead or fruit wine for a toast to the sun
The nine sacred St John’s herbs: magic in the meadow
No St John’s Day without herbs. The so-called ‘St John’s herbs’ or Herba Johannis have been closely associated with this festival since the Middle Ages. Traditionally, nine herbs were gathered on St John’s Eve that were considered to have particularly healing properties – and many of them are still recognised in naturopathy today. The wisdom of the herbalists was not superstition, but knowledge gained from thousands of years of experience.
All the following information reflects traditional folklore and is not a substitute for medical or pharmaceutical advice.
| Herb | Botanical name | Traditional significance & folk medicinal use |
|---|---|---|
| St John’s Wort | Hypericum perforatum | The most important St. John’s Wort; traditionally used to lift the spirits and for external wound care |
| Mugwort | Artemisia vulgaris | Protection and purification; a classic incense herb of the Germanic peoples, protection for travellers |
| Yarrow | Achillea millefolium | Traditionally used for wounds and inflammation; the ‘warrior herb’ of the Middle Ages |
| Chamomile | Matricaria chamomilla | Soothing and gentle on the stomach; one of Europe’s oldest medicinal plants |
| Elderflower | Sambucus nigra | Traditionally used for colds and fever; the elder was considered a sacred tree |
| Valerian | Valeriana officinalis | Sleep and relaxation; valued in folk medicine as ‘nerve herb’ |
| Wormwood | Artemisia absinthium | Protection against evil spirits; traditionally used in small quantities as a bitter herb and for smudging |
| Marigold | Calendula officinalis | Traditionally used for external skin care; the common man’s sunflower |
| Verbena | Verbena officinalis | Known since ancient times as a magical protective herb; the herb of druids and priests |
These herbs were bound into bouquets or wreaths, blessed and hung up in the house. Many of them are still available today as dried herbs or incense blends – and on St John’s Eve they give off the same scent as they did a thousand years ago.
DIY: Make your own St John’s Wort oil (red oil)
One of the most beautiful and at the same time simplest DIY projects associated with St John’s Day is so-called red oil – a St John’s wort macerate that was traditionally made and used externally as far back as the Middle Ages. The name comes from the bright red colour the oil takes on due to hypericin, the plant’s characteristic active ingredient. Anyone seeing it for the first time is delighted every single time: the jar, which after a few weeks in the sunlight glows like liquid fire, is truly a little miracle of nature.
What you’ll need
- Fresh St John’s wort flowers (best collected around 24 June, when the flowers are fully open)
- High-quality olive oil or almond oil
- A clean screw-top jar
- A fine cloth or straining cloth for filtering
- Dark amber glass bottles for storage
Step-by-step instructions
- Collect the fresh, golden-yellow St. John’s wort flowers – they should release a red juice when rubbed between your fingers. This is hypericin and shows you that you have found the right plant.
- Fill the jar loosely with the flowers and pour the oil over them until they are completely covered. Make sure all the flowers are submerged – any flowers sticking out of the oil may go mouldy.
- Seal the jar and place it in a sunny spot by the window for 4–6 weeks. Shake daily. You will see the oil turning a deeper red week by week.
- After the infusion period, strain the oil through a fine cloth, pour it into dark bottles and label them.
In folk medicine, the finished red oil is traditionally used for tense muscles and relaxing massages. It also makes a wonderful homemade gift – and connects you in a very tangible way to the long tradition of St John’s wort gathering.
Storage
When stored in dark amber or violet glass bottles in a cool, dark place, the red oil will keep for 12–18 months. A cool cupboard or cellar is ideal – heat and direct light significantly accelerate spoilage. Be sure to label the bottle with the contents and date of manufacture. If the oil smells rancid or shows signs of mould, please dispose of it immediately.
⚠️ Important information on use
- For external use only: The red oil is intended exclusively for use on intact, healthy skin. Do not treat wounds, mucous membranes, or inflamed or infected areas of skin.
- Photosensitisation: St. John’s Wort can make the skin more sensitive to light. Therefore, do not expose treated areas of skin to direct sunlight – this applies particularly to people with fair skin and may otherwise lead to redness or burns.
- Not a substitute for medical treatment: This red oil is a traditional home remedy based on folk knowledge. Please always consult a doctor in the event of serious or persistent symptoms.
- Interactions: St. John’s wort taken internally (as a tea, capsule or extract) may affect the efficacy of various medications. This recipe describes an external oil only; please consult a doctor or pharmacist if you have any questions regarding internal use.
- Children and pregnant women: Seek medical advice before use on children under 12 years of age and during pregnancy.
DIY: Making a St John’s wreath
The St John’s wort wreath is one of the oldest and most accessible traditions of the festival. Even among the Vikings and Germanic tribes, wreaths made from summer herbs and flowers were symbols of protection and vitality. And the beauty of it is: you really only need whatever the meadow has to offer at the moment.
You will need
- Flexible twigs of birch, willow or hazel
- Fresh herbs and flowers: yarrow, St John’s wort, chamomile, marigolds, cornflowers
- Garden wire or raffia string
Here’s how
- Bend the twigs into a ring shape and secure them with wire or string.
- Tie the herbs and flowers to it in small bunches – start on one side and work your way round. Alternate the herbs so that the wreath is colourful and even.
- Hang the finished wreath on your front door, use it as a centrepiece at your Midsummer celebration – or wear it in your hair. What medieval women could do, we can do too.
For those who like things particularly authentic: use only willow wickerwork as a base and do without wire. The Vikings and medieval people used materials sourced directly from their surroundings – and that has a charm all of its own.
Recipe: St John’s Wort mead – the summer drink of our ancestors
What would a Midsummer festival be without mead? This honey wine was one of the Vikings’ staple drinks and was present at every celebration. It served as currency, a festive drink and an offering all in one. Combined with fresh redcurrants – which ripen at the same time as the festival is celebrated – the result is a wonderful summer mead that captures the essence of St John’s Day in a bottle.
This recipe is intended for private home use. Alcohol may only be produced and consumed by persons aged 18 and over.
Ingredients (for approx. 5 litres)
| Ingredient | Quantity | Note |
|---|---|---|
| Wildflower honey or summer honey | 1 kg | High-quality honey gives more flavour |
| Redcurrants | 500 g | Fresh or frozen (thawed) |
| Water, lukewarm | 4 litres | Not too hot – yeast doesn’t like heat |
| Wine yeast | 1 sachet | Alternatively: wild yeast from the local market |
| Lemon juice | from 1 lemon | Stabilises the pH |
| Cinnamon stick (optional) | 1 | For warmer, spicy notes |
| Cloves (optional) | 3–4 | Use sparingly |
Method
- Wash the redcurrants and press them gently with a fork or potato masher to release the juice.
- Dissolve the honey completely in lukewarm water. Do not boil – high heat destroys the delicate flavours of the honey.
- Place the fruit, honey water, lemon juice and spices into a clean, rinsed fermentation vessel.
- Prepare the yeast according to the instructions on the packet and add it to the mixture.
- Seal with a fermentation lock and leave to ferment in a warm place (approx. 18–22 °C) for 2–4 weeks. You’ll hear and see it bubbling – that’s perfect.
- When no more bubbles rise, fermentation is complete. Filter the mead through a fine cloth and bottle it in clean bottles.
The finished summer mead can be tasted straight away or left to mature for a few more months – it becomes rounder and more aromatic over time. Cheers to the sun!
Quick tip for the impatient: if you don’t want to wait for weeks, you can make a cold-brewed redcurrant mead: steep redcurrants and honey in a good mead or dry white wine, leave to infuse in a cool place for a week, strain – and you have an aromatic summer drink without fermentation.
Recipe: Medieval herb butter with St John’s wort
Spiced butter was known in the Middle Ages – back then, it was more commonly referred to as ‘herbal lard’ or simply as flavoured butter. This version with St John’s wort and summer blossoms is perfect for a St John’s celebration around the campfire. The St John’s wort gives it a light, resinous note that is quite unique – and has guests asking every time: “What sort of herb is that?”
Note: The St John’s wort flowers and leaves are used here in very small quantities as a seasoning. This is a traditional culinary use. If you have a known intolerance to St John’s wort, please omit it.
Ingredients
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| Butter, at room temperature | 250 g |
| Fresh St John’s wort flowers and leaves, finely chopped | 2 tbsp |
| Fresh yarrow, finely chopped | 1 tbsp |
| Fresh chives, finely chopped | 1 tbsp |
| Salt | 1 tsp |
| Garlic clove (optional) | 1 small |
| zest of half an organic lemon | to taste |
Method
- Wash all the herbs, pat them dry thoroughly and chop them finely. The finer the chop, the more evenly the flavour will be distributed.
- Thoroughly mix the softened butter with salt, lemon zest and the chopped herbs – preferably with a fork or a hand mixer on the lowest setting.
- Shape into a firm roll on baking paper, wrap it up and leave to set in the fridge for at least 2 hours.
This herb butter tastes delicious with fresh bread by the campfire, on grilled meat or vegetables – or, quite honestly, simply straight from the spoon. Just as medieval market-goers would probably have done, when no one was looking.
St John’s Day today: tradition with a future
The beauty of customs like St John’s Festival is that they evolve – yet retain their essence. Whether you’re sitting by the campfire as a Viking re-enactor in authentic garb with a drinking horn, tying your St John’s bouquet as a medieval herbalist, or simply lighting a fire in the garden with friends and toasting the sun: The connection to the people who did exactly the same thing a thousand years ago is real. It is not nostalgia – it is cultural memory brought to life.
24 June reminds us of what has always been true: community, nature and light belong together. The Vikings knew that. The medieval villagers knew that. And we can still feel it today, if we allow ourselves to.
Celebrate this day. Make it your own.
Do you have your own Midsummer bonfire traditions or family recipes? Share them in the comments – we’d love to hear every story!
And if you’re looking for historical Viking accessories, herbs for smouldering, drinking horns or the right attire for your next Midsummer celebration: At Vehi Mercatus you’ll find everything a medieval enthusiast could wish for – your trusted partner for an authentic medieval experience for 20 years.
Legal notice: All information in this post is for general information purposes only and reflects traditional folklore and historical knowledge. It is not a substitute for medical, pharmaceutical or nutritional advice. The plants and preparations mentioned are not medicinal products within the meaning of the Medicines Act. If you have any health concerns, please consult a doctor or pharmacist.
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