Halloween

THE following POEM will, by many Readers, be well enough understood; but, for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, Notes are added, to give some account of the principal Charms and Spells of that Night, so big with Prophecy to the Peasantry in the West of Scotland. The passion of prying into Futurity makes a striking part of the history of Human-nature, in it's rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honor the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.

HALLOWEEN. [1]

Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain,
The simple pleasures of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

GOLDSMITH.

I.

UPON that night, when Fairies light,
 On Cassilis Downans [2] dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
 On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean, the rout is taen,
 Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the Cove, [3] to stray an' rove,
 Amang the rocks an' streams
    To sport that night.

II.

Amang the bonie, winding banks,
 Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear,
Where BRUCE [4] ance rul'd the martial ranks,
 An' shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, countra folks,
 Together did convene,
To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,
 An' haud their Halloween
    Fu' blythe that night.

III.

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat,
 Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe,
 Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin':
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
 Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs,
 Gar lasses hearts gang startin
    Whyles fast at night.

IV.

Then, first an' foremost, thro' the kail,
 Their stocks [5] maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, an' grape an' wale,
 For muckle anes, an' straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
 An' wander'd thro' the Bow-kail,
An' pow't, for want o' better shift,
 A runt was like a sow-tail
    Sae bow't that night.

V.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
 They roar an' cry a' throw'ther;
The vera wee-things, toddlan, rin,
 Wi' stocks out owre their shouther:
An' gif the custock's sweet or sour,
 Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne coziely, aboon the door,
 Wi' cannie care, they've plac'd them
    To lye that night.

VI.

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a',
 To pou their stalks o' corn; [6]
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
 Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard an' fast;
 Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
 When kiutlan in the Fause-house [7]
    Wi' him that night.

VII.

The auld Guidwife's weel-hoordet nits [8]
 Are round an' round divided,
An' monie lads an' lasses fates
 Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
 An' burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
 An' jump out owre the chimlie
    Fu' high that night.

VIII.

Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie e'e;
 Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an' this is me,
 She says in to hersel:
He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him,
 As they wad never mair part,
Till fuff! he started up the lum,
 An' Jean had e'en a sair heart
    To see't that night.

IX.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
 Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
An' Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt,
 To be compar'd to Willie:
Mall's nit lap out, wi' pridefu' fling,
 An' her ain fit, it brunt it;
While Willie lap, an' swoor by jing,
 'Twas just the way he wanted
    To be that night.

X.

Nell had the Fause-house in her min',
 She pits hersel an' Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
 Till white in ase they're sobbin:
Nell's heart was dancin at the view;
 She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stownlins, prie'd her bonie mou,
 Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
    Unseen that night.

XI.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
 Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashan at their cracks,
 An' slips out by hersel:
She thro' the yard the nearest taks,
 An' for the kiln she goes then,
An' darklins grapet for the bauks,
 And in the blue-clue [9] throws then,
    Right fear't that night.

XII.

An' ay she win't, an' ay she swat,
 I wat she made nae jaukin;
Till something held within the pat,
 Guid L—d! but she was quaukin!
But whether 'twas the Deil himsel,
 Or whether 'twas a bauk-en',
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
 She did na wait on talkin
    To spier that night.

XIII.

Wee Jenny to her Graunie says,
 'Will ye go wi' me Graunie?
'I'll eat the apple [10] at the glass,
 'I gat frae uncle Johnie:'
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
 In wrath she was sae vap'rin,
She notic't na, an aizle brunt
 Her braw, new, worset apron
    Out thro' that night.

XIV.

'Ye little Skelpie-limmer's-face!
 'I daur you try sic sportin,
'As seek the foul Thief onie place,
 'For him to spae your fortune:
'Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
 'Great cause ye hae to fear it;
'For monie a ane has gotten a fright,
 'An' liv'd an' di'd deleeret,
    'On sic a night.

XV.

'Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor,
 'I mind't as weel's yestreen,
'I was a gilpey then, I'm sure,
 'I was na past fyfteen:
'The Simmer had been cauld an' wat,
 'An' Stuff was unco green;
'An' ay a rantan Kirn we gat,
 'An' just on Halloween
    'It fell that night.

XVI.

'Our Stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
 'A clever, sturdy fallow;
'His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
 'That liv'd in Achmacalla:
'He gat hemp-seed, [11] I mind it weel,
 'An' he made unco light o't;
'But monie a day was by himsel,
 'He was sae sairly frighted
    'That vera night.'

XVII.

Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck,
 An' he swoor by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
 For it was a' but nonsense:
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
 An' out a handfu' gied him;
Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk,
 Sometime when nae ane see'd him,
    An' try't that night.

XVIII.

He marches thro' amang the stacks,
 Tho' he was something sturtan;
The graip he for a harrow taks,
 An' haurls at his curpan:
And ev'ry now an' then, he says,
 'Hemp-seed I saw thee,
'An' her that is to be my lass,
 'Come after me an' draw thee
    'As fast this night.'

XIX.

He whistl'd up lord Lenox' march,
 To keep his courage cheary;
Altho' his hair began to arch,
 He was sae fley'd an' eerie:
Till presently he hears a squeak,
 An' then a grane an' gruntle;
He by his showther gae a keek,
 An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle
    Out owre that night.

XX.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
 In dreadfu' desperation!
An' young an' auld come rinnan out,
 An' hear the sad narration:
He swoor 'twas hilchan Jean M'Craw,
 Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till stop! she trotted thro' them a';
 An' wha was it but Grumphie
    Asteer that night?

XXI.

Meg fain wad to the Barn gaen,
 To winn three wechts o' naething; [12]
But for to meet the Deil her lane,
 She pat but little faith in:
She gies the Herd a pickle nits,
 An' twa red cheeket apples,
To watch, while for the Barn she sets,
 In hopes to see Tam Kipples
    That vera night.

XXII.

She turns the key, wi' cannie thraw,
 An' owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',
 Syne bauldly in she enters:
A ratton rattl'd up the wa',
 An' she cry'd, L—d preserve her!
An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a',
 An' pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
    Fu' fast that night.

XXIII.

They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice;
 They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanc'd the Stack he faddom't thrice, [13]
 Was timmer-propt for thrawin:
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
 For some black, grousome Carlin;
An' loot a winze, an' drew a stroke,
 Till skin in blypes cam haurlin
    Aff's nieves that night.

XXIV.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
 As cantie as a kittlen;
But Och! that night, amang the shaws,
 She gat a fearfu' settlin!
She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn,
 An' owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three Lairds' lan's met at a burn, [14]
 To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
    Was bent that night.

XXV.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
 As thro' the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scar it strays;
 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
 Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle;
Whyles cooket underneath the braes,
 Below the spreading hazle
    Unseen that night.

XXVI.

Amang the brachens, on the brae,
 Between her an' the moon,
The Deil, or else an outler Quey,
 Gat up an' gae a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;
 Near lav'rock-height she jumpet,
But mist a fit, an' in the pool,
 Out owre the lugs she plumpet,
    Wi' a plunge that night.

XXVII.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
 The Luggies [15] three are ranged;
And ev'ry time great care is taen,
 To see them duely changed:
Auld, uncle John, wha wedlock's joys,
 Sin' Mar's-year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
 He heav'd them on the fire,
    In wrath that night.

XXVIII.

Wi' merry sangs, an' friendly cracks,
 I wat they did na weary;
And unco tales, an' funnie jokes,
 Their sports were cheap an' cheary:
Till butter'd So'ns, [16] wi' fragrant lunt,
 Set a' their gabs a steerin;
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
 They parted aff careerin
    Fu' blythe that night.

Footnotes

[1] Is thought to be a night when Witches, Devils, and other mischief-making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, midnight errands: particularly, those aerial people, the Fairies, are said, on that night, to hold a grand Anniversary.

[2] Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.

[3] A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt of Fairies.

[4] The famous family of that name, the ancestors of ROBERT the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.

[5] The first ceremony of Halloween, is, pulling each a Stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their Spells—the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.

[6] They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of Oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will want the Maidenhead.

[7] When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green, or wet, the Stack-builder, by means of old timber, &c. makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a Fause-house.

[8] Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire; and according as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the Courtship will be.

[9] Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions. Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot, a clew of blue yarn: wind it in a new clew off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold the thread: demand, wha hauds? i.e. who holds? and answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the christian and sirname of your future Spouse.

[10] Take a candle, and go, alone, to a looking glass: eat an apple before it, and some traditions say you should comb your hair all the time: the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.

[11] Steal out, unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp seed; harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, 'Hemp seed I saw thee, Hemp seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, 'come after me and shaw thee,' that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, 'come after me and harrow thee.'

[12] This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors; taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is danger, that the Being, about to appear, may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country-dialect, we call a wecht; and go thro' all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time, an apparition will pass thro' the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment or station in life.

[13] Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms, the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.

[14] You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring or rivulet, where 'three Lairds' lands meet,' and dip your left shirt-sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Ly awake; and sometime near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.

[15] Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony, a Maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.

[16] Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween Supper.