Stratheden Farm: The Blog: October 2015

Midnight in Greyfriar's Cemetery, Edinburgh

As most readers of this blog know, your humble correspondent spent a few supremely wonderful years in Fife, Scotland; The Forefathers came from that area. This particular post is treading on thin ice as it may over-extend your author's actual knowledge base - input from weel-kenn'd Scottish readers is particularly sought to remedy errors or omissions. Information is derived in the first part from neighbors, friends and Lodge Brothers about both current and earlier 20th century observations of the date. These have been supplemented by a little internet research, mostly to buttress the writer's poor memory but to also resolve apparent conflicts in information (does that sound like a cautious historian?).

The Dictionary of the Scots Language defines Halloween (under the entry for Hallow) as 'the eve of All Saints' Day, i.e. 31st October, in the old Celtic calendar the last day of the year and the first of winter.

It appears that Halloween, a custom of central and borders Scotland has become confounded and compounded with Samhain of the same date. Samhain is a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the "darker half" of the year. Being Gaelic, this festival would be contained within the area of Scotland north of Edinburgh whereas Halloween was the festival for the remainder of Scotland. Alas, your writer cannot find a definitive answer to this melding. More recently,
a Samhain-based festival has sprung up in Edinburgh, more celebrated by unrestrained revelers than true neopagans.

In Scotland, 'trick or treaters" are denominated "guisers." Guising has been a part of Halloween/Samhain in Scotland, Ireland and the Isle of Man since the 16th century or earlier - which would seem to indicate that it is a 'new' introduction (but from whence?). Guisers go door-to-door in costume and in exchange for edible treats or a small denomination of money such as a farthing or ha-penny (in the old days), they sing or recite or otherwise perform (your author can remember this as a function of Halloweens in Kentucky during the 1950s where treats had to be earned).

The "traditional illumination for guisers or pranksters abroad on the night in some places was provided by turnips, hollowed out to act as lanterns and often carved with grotesque faces to represent spirits or goblins".

Their purpose of them is to ward off bogles, haints, wraiths, dunters, habetrots, kelpies, red-caps, spunkies and their ilk said to be about on the night. From hard experience, it can be said that turnips are hard as rocks compared to pumpkins and a common knife is inadequate for the task! A Fife friend used woodworker's chisels and gouges to carve neeps (turnips).

A traditional guising song (and my English translation) is purported to be:

Hallowe'en a nicht o' tine
A can'le in a castock,

A howkit neep wi' glowerin' een
To fleg baith witch and warlock.

Halloween is a night of fire
a candle in a cabbage stem
A hollowed turnip wide eyed one
to scare both witch and warlock

Another guising song and my shaky translation:

'Canty dame wi kindly looks,
Ye hae fairins in yer neuks,
Aipples reid, or aipples green,
Up, and gie's oor Halloween!'

Cheerful lady with a kind appearance,
You have presents in your nooks,
apples red or apples green,
Get up give whenever its Halloween

Both of the guising songs shown above are written in broad Scots, not to be confused with Gaelic. A clarification from the Scots Language Centre is in order: "Scots originated with the tongue of the Angles who arrived in Scotland about AD 600, or 1,400 years ago. During the Middle Ages this language developed and grew apart from its sister tongue in England, until a distinct Scots language had evolved. At one time Scots was the national language of Scotland, spoken by Scottish kings, and was used to write the official records of the country." Gaelic speakers represent about 1% of the modern population of Scotland whereas most over 60 Scots in the central and borders areas speak some form of Scots (it has major regional dialects). Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott both wrote in Scots language. Mr. Fuzzy understands some bits and bobs of Fifish broad Scots but zero Gaelic.

Besides guising, All Hallow's Eve was also time for some forms of divination. From Historic UK's web site here are two foms:
(1) "an engaged couple to each put a nut on the fire. If the nuts burned quietly then the marriage would be happy, however if the nuts spat and hissed then the marriage would be stormy. Similarly, if a girl put two nuts on the fire, one for her lover and one for herself, and the nuts spat and hissed, then this was a bad omen for their future together."
(2) The plants mentioned in the first gusing song above "were the stalks of the kale plant or 'castocks'. The stalks were pulled out of the ground after dark with one's eyes shut. The idea was that the length and straightness of the stalk would indicate a future partner's height and figure. Any soil on the stalk would indicate wealth."

Should the reader think the concept of spirits and witches is a far-fetched, outdated concept, a bit of British legal history from Wikipedia might provide illumination. "The Witchcraft Act (9 Geo. II c. 5) was a law passed by the Parliament of the Kingdom of Great Britain in 1735 which made it a crime for a person to claim that any human being had magical powers or was guilty of practising witchcraft. The maximum penalty set out by the Act was a year's imprisonment." "In September 1944, Helen Duncan was jailed under the Witchcraft Act on the grounds that she had claimed to summon spirits. It is often contended, by her followers that her imprisonment was in fact at the behest of superstitious military intelligence officers who feared she would reveal the secret plans for D-Day. She came to the attention of the authorities after supposedly contacting the spirit of a sailor of the HMS Barham," when that sinking was still a classified secret. Duncan spent nine months in dire prison conditions for her crime. The Witchcraft Act was not repealed in Britain until 1951.

Hopefully you will now understand where many American Halloween customs originated.

You might really enjoy Fiona Ritchie's special program of Scottish All Hallow's Eve music:
http://www.npr.org/2014/10/31/360423868/the-thistle-shamrock-tales-for-all-hallows-eve

I leave you with Robert Burns' 1785 epic poem, written in the Scots language, best read with a wee dram of single malt and Fiona's program ambient in the background. Note his reference to castocks and casting nuts into the fire in the second verse:

"Halloween"

Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans²dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the rout is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the Cove,³to stray an' rove,
Amang the rocks and streams
To sport that night;

Amang the bonie winding banks,
Where Doon rins , wimplin , clear;
Where Bruce⁴ 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.

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
Whiles fast at night.

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

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane ,
They roar an' cry a' throu'ther;
The vera wee-things , toddlin, 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 lie that night.

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

The auld guid-wife's weel-hoordit nits ⁸
Are round an' round dividend,
An'mony lads an' lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle couthie side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa wi' saucy pride,
An' jump out owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

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.

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 , and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.

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.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell:
She lea'es them gashin at their cracks ,
An' slips out-by hersel';
She thro' the yard the nearest taks ,
An' for the kiln she goes then,
An'darklins grapit for the bauks ,
And in the blue-clue⁹throws then,
Right fear't that night.

An' ay she win't , an' ay she swat --
I wat she made nae jaukin ;
Till something held within the pat ,
Good Lord! 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.

Wee Jenny to her graunie says,
"Will ye go wi' me, graunie?
I'll eat the apple at the glass,¹⁰
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.

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

" 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' eye a rantin kirn we gat ,
An' just on Halloween
It fell that night.

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

Then up gat fechtin 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.

He marches thro' amang the stacks ,
Tho' he was something sturtin ;
The graip he for a harrow taks ,
An'haurls at his curpin :
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."

He wistl'd up Lord Lennox' March
To keep his courage cherry;
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 shouther gae a keek ,
An' tumbled wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.

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

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 cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets ,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

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

They hoy't out Will, wi'sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane ;
It chanc'd the stack he faddom't thrice¹³
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.

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.

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

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

In order, on the clean hearth-stane ,
The luggies ¹⁵three are ranged;
An' ev'ry time great care is ta'en
To see them duly 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.

Wi' merry sangs , an' friendly cracks ,
I wat they did na weary;
And unco tales, an' funnie jokes --
Their sports were cheap an' cheery:
Till butter'd sowens ,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.

[Footnote 1: Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other
mischief-making beings are abroad on their baneful midnight errands;
particularly those aerial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold
a grand anniversary,. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 2: Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the
neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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
favorite haunt of fairies. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 4: The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the
great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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 "custock," 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. -- R. B.]
[Footnote 6: They go to the barnyard, and pull each, at three different 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 come to the marriage-bed
anything but a maid.-R.B.]
[Footnote 7: When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet,
the stack-builder, by means of old timber, etc., 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." -- R.B.]
[Footnote 8: Burning the nuts is a favorite 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. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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 clue of blue yarn; wind it in a new clue off the old
one; and, toward 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 surname of your future spouse. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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 conjungal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if
peeping over your shoulder. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 11: Steal out, unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed,
harrowing it with anything 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." -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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 through all the attitudes of
letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times, and the third time
an apparition will pass through 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. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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. Lie awake, and, some time 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. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 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. -- R.B.]
[Footnote 16: Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the
Halloween Supper. -- R.B.]

Sunrise from the bedroom this morning

Dear Reader,
You might find it helpful to prepare a cup of tea to sip whilst reading the blog - it is longer than usual as there has been more to cover than typically. Let it be said that all images may be enlarged by clicking on them; some benefit considerably by a larger display size.

It is unmistakably autumn. The nights are cooler, the humidity has dropped, no rain of consequence mentioned in the ten day forecast; National Weather Service has predicted the first frost will coat the farm this very weekend, which seems early. The fireplace shall soon be the source of warmth and solace for animal and man alike.

The trees have peaked in presenting their marvelous new mantles, indeed, many are already naked, their leaves scattered about their roots. Summer drought stressed the trees and some began shedding without transitioning to color, just brown and dry as they zig-zag toward terra firma.

Ken Scott ink & watercolor painting on the inside of an antiques book cover, www.americanfrontierart.blogspot.com:

Scott's inimitable frontier art, which Stratheden visitors may recognize.

Mr. Fuzzy fulfilled a long held desire last week and motored to Conner Prairie Interactive History Museum near Indianapolis to be a student. Frontier artist par excellance, Ken Scott, taught a to and a half day class on constructing 18th and 19th century hunting bags. He had taught two classes earlier in the session on making hunting bag from a boot top and Back country Southern Arts. Your humble correspondent desperately wanted to participate in the Southern class but the floods (see the earlier blog post) delayed my departure and it was missed, sigh. Sigh again. Ken is the absolute Master at American Frakturs, be they Pennsylvania or Southern and it was a sore disappointment to miss the course.

one of Ken's striking hunting bags

Despite the disappointment of missing one class, the bag making class was more fun than a barrel of monkeys and much was gleaned from it. Ken is no Johnny-come-lately, having pursued this niche in the art world for decades. More importantly, he has carved out a special position by his unique style and flawless execution. Specifically, his art is very folky, inspired by what the uncommon common man might have created on a remote frontier farm with the barest of materials and no training - but imbued with pure God-given genius. Not all great artists are good teachers - Ken is as good an instructor as they can be, giving encouragement, guidance, technique and the most gentle corrections imaginable in his unique manner.

Mr. Fuzzy's bag made during the workshop

Ken is free with what he has learned by decades of experience. He demonstrated his techniques and shared his sources of inspiration and materials. One fabulous result was a trip to downtown Indianapolis tot he site of a 108 year old leather supply store, Landwerlen Leather Company. Their store was a 100 year trip backwards in time. Mr. Fuzzy was stunned by not only the selection but the quality of materials - and wrung his wallet dry at the clerk's counter. Although the store caters to "the trade," as a courtesy to Ken, his students are treated as if they were lifelong customers. They are happy to conduct their trade by telephone and I, for one, will not ever purchase leather or supplies anywhere else.

Landwerlen Leather Company, Indianapolis

The Jacksonville Arts Center, a regional power house located here in Floyd, opened an exhibition last weekend on the subject of barns. Artists could submit three art works to be juried. Mr. Fuzzy is delighted to note that all three photographs submitted were accepted. Despite cold and damp weather the crowd was excellent and enthusiastic. It was heart warming to have total strangers saunter over and explain why they appreciated your art. Mr. Fuzzy rarely enters shows; his art is for himself, but this could be a defining experience.