Read Jack and the Devil's Purse Online
Authors: Duncan Williamson
Jack and the Devil's Purse
JACK AND THE DEVIL’S PURSE
DEVIL’S PURSE
Scottish Traveller Tales
Duncan Williamson
Edited by Linda Williamson
This ebook edition published in 2011 by
Birlinn Limited
West Newington House
Newington Road
Edinburgh
EH9 1QS
www.birlinn.co.uk
First published in 2011 by Birlinn Ltd
Copyright © the estate of Duncan Williamson 2011
The moral right of Duncan Williamson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by his estate in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without the express written permission of the publisher.
ebook ISBN: 978-0-85790-053-1
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
To Donald
Johnny MacDonald and the Three Skeletons
The Coming of the Devil on Earth
According to the mythology of the Travelling People, God created Hell just the way He created Heaven. It was all over a simple argument. When God created all the Earth and everything else, He had many angels, people in Heaven to help him. And one that He liked more than anybody else was Lucifer; He loved Lucifer. And this angel looked up to God and adored everything that He did under the sun. Anything that God would do, Lucifer was always there. He was God’s right-hand man in Heaven. But Lucifer had a mother, Magog, and he lived with her.
Now Magog loved her son dearly; he was her only son. But they were very unhappy, especially the old mother, because Magog believed her son was more powerful than God, and cleverer. She was jealous of her son’s love for God.
She was always getting on to him and telling him, ’Why do you have to be at God’s beck and call every moment? Why do you look up to this man and do everything for him? Why should he be the boss? You’re as good as what he is.
You
could be that person instead of him! You’re stronger than him; you’re as clever as what he is.’
And this began to penetrate Lucifer’s mind. He was a clever man. He was intelligent, had learned many things
from God. So after his mother’s aggravation for many nights, many weeks and many months he could stand it no more. He went to God and he tellt God all this that his mother had told him.
He said to God, ‘Why do I need to bow before you? Am I just something you’ve created, that you can treat as a slave?’
And God said, ‘No, you are my right-hand man. You’re one of my favourites.’
Lucifer stood before God, ‘Look, I’m just as powerful as you,’ he said. ‘I could be a king, King of the World – as what you are.’
God shook his head sadly. He said to Lucifer, ‘By the way you talk and the way you think, I don’t think you’re qualified to take my place.’
But Lucifer said, ‘I’m stronger and fitter than you, I’m more powerful! I’m stronger than any animal you’ve ever created on the Earth, this place you call Earth. I’m stronger than the wildest bull you’ve ever created.’
And God said, ‘Well you don’t look like one, but if you want to look like one . . .’ and he pointed his finger like
that
– Lucifer felt a shudder going through him – he looked down. There he had a cloven hoof.
And he said, ‘Why don’t you make me king, why don’t you make me Under-king?’
And God said to him, ‘You want to be Under-king? In Heaven or Earth?’
And Lucifer says, ‘I want to be King of Earth.’
God said, ‘Well, I don’t think I could make you King of Earth, because I already have plans for another king for Earth. But I can make you king – Under the Earth. You can rule Under the Earth for as long as you like, till the end of eternity.’
And there God created Hell. He sent Lucifer as a fallen angel to Under the Earth. And, of course, when Lucifer went, he took his mother with him.
The cavern of Hell with a burning fire to keep him company and no friends but his mother around made Lucifer very, very wicked. His name was then lost because he became the Prince of Darkness. He swore to his own mind that when anyone ever went into Earth, or was buried under the ground, even though they were dead he would take them and torment them for evermore. He was
evil
. And this word became ‘devil’, what he is called to this day, ‘the Devil in Hell’.
Down through the centuries people of the world have come to call the Devil by many different names. No one wants to actually say
devil
because the word is too evil. They refer to him using by-names instead. In Scotland he is known as Old Hornie, because folk believe he has horns on his head; Old Clootie because he sometimes takes the place of a wreft or a spirit standing by the graveyard with a shroud over himself scaring people to death to get their souls; The Blacksmith because his place is beside his fire; and Old Rouchie because of his tough character. ‘Cog’ is the Travellers’ word for him, referring to his art of deception and trickery.
To this day Travellers believe the Devil cannot show his face in daylight. And when he comes to you he appears in the form of a black dog, a black bull, a black stallion or in the form of a tall dark man. At night Cog can take his original form, for he is natural in darkness.
According to the Travellers’ idea, the Devil does not exist in this world to get you and punish you and torture you for doing evil things. The Devil is there to outwit you! The idea goes back to when he tellt God, ‘I’m more clever than you.’
When he was put to Hell he still maintained that. His wish was that he wanted to be King on Earth, so he comes to people on Earth to show he is superior – he wants to show he is cleverer than the people God has put on Earth. He gives them many chances to compete against him, ‘Can you do something I can’t do?’
If a person is clever enough to outwit the Devil then he leaves them in peace for evermore. But if they lose, their soul is lost and taken for torture in Hell. The saying ‘May the Devil walk behind ye!’ means ‘may the Devil never catch up with you’, or, may you always be one step ahead of him (evil) in the contest of intelligence and knowledge. When you come in contact with the Devil, and he comes to everyone, may you be cleverer than him and outdo the Enemy!
The point of the Devil stories is that every person has got an evil bit in him, let it be a child to a grown man, a girl to a grown woman. But it’s only at a certain time that that piece of evil will ever show itself. Lucifer was evil when he went before God and challenged him. And God was upset. God knew that even though he was being evil there was something good in him forbyes. Because there’s no such thing as an evil person through and through. Even the Devil is likeable. There’s something good in every evil one and there’s something evil in every good one. It’s the balance between good and evil that makes for life on Earth. And this Earth wouldna be worth a-living on if it wasna for the Devil!
Hallowe’en, the 31st of October, is the night the Devil gets loose. It is his special night of freedom, when he and all the imps leave Hell, come and spread out through all the
country. This belief goes back thousands of years in Scotland, when Hallowe’en was a night of wild festivity marking the end of the year for tribes of people known as the Celts. All year round they were hard-working, busy like ants or bees in a hive during the summer, getting things together to see them through the winter. Then on the eve of the Celtic New Year everything was let loose – people really did wicked things, things they would never do the rest of the year. They would exchange wives; they would get drunk, they would swear, they would curse. Nothing was sacred and no hold was barred. Every rule in the world was broken for a week or two weeks over the Hallowe’en festival. The Travellers believed the Devil was in the people at that time of year; they became devils.
Some would say, ‘If you werena workin’ with the Devil you wouldna do these things!’
At the centre of the Hallowe’en festival, even today, is the idea that the Devil is not to be clearly seen. Children dress up and put on ‘false faces’ at Hallowe’en just like the pagans did during their festival when the Devil came. He could walk among them and no one could distinguish him from the rest.
In my childhood times in Argyllshire, our Hallowe’en party was a wonderful night for us. We were tinkers, we’d never been invited inside the villagers’ houses and never knew what it was like inside them – till Hallowe’en. But all the boys and girls of the village, me, my brothers and sisters dressed ourselves up trying to prove to everyone that nobody would find out who we really were. We would get old jackets or old coats, turn them inside out, blacken wir faces with coal cinders and get some sheep’s wool to make a moustache or something. We would go round all the doors, each house in turn and knock ‘chap chap’.
‘Who is it?’ they would say.
‘Guisers – this is Hallowe’en night! Can we come in? What have you got for us?’
Oh, they’d take us into their house and give us something, a penny and a handful of nuts. But you had to sing a song!
Well, we would sing a song and then they’d say, ‘Who are ye? Are ye one of Betsy’s boys?’ That was my mother, they knew my mother well.
‘No,’ we’d say, ‘we’re no one o’ Betsy’s boys.’ You didna let them know who you were! But we’d tell them before we’d go on to the next house.
Then you had to duck for apples on the floor in a big bath. Sometimes you missed and yer whole head went in and it washed all the black soot off yer face. And ye were half black and half white. And then yer sheep’s wool moustache: if it got wet it fell off, and your disguise was nearly gone! Next you had to try and take a bite off a treacle scone hanging on a string. You couldn’t use your hands and when you tried to take a bite, this scone started to waggle and it spread all over yer face. By the end of the night we each had a big pillowslip full of nuts and oranges and apples to take home and wir faces all covered with treacle!
To be safe from evil and out of the Devil’s reach on Hallowe’en night the Travellers believed you were to
keep within the circle.
If you sat or stood within a circle at Hallowe’en time, before twelve o’clock midnight, suppose it was only a circle of people around a fire, then you were safe from all evil for the incoming year. In the olden days the crofters in the Western Isles used to bring in the ring of a cart wheel, the iron ring, and place it on the floor. All visitors who came to them stood within the wheel on Hallowe’en night. There they probably had a drink and a crack and talk. Because the belief was that within the circle till after twelve
o’clock evil couldna cross. It did not matter if the circle was only drawn with your finger on the Earth or drawn above your door or window; but if you werena within that circle on Hallowe’en night then ye had bad luck for the whole year following!
Our greeting today ‘hello’ comes from ‘halloo’ or ‘hallow’. To me this means ‘have you been hallowed -- have you been within the circle for the incoming year?’ For Travellers have called Hallowe’en ‘The Night of the Circle’.
The twenty stories making up this collection of Duncan Williamson’s folk tales incorporate the Scottish Travelling People’s beliefs about evil, temptation and suffering. Religious expression shines through – these stories are expressive of a traditional attitude towards death. For Duncan, as for all Travellers, life is a simple force, a force deeply felt. It is spurred in the emotive stories Travellers tell and listen to about the Devil – who opposes life and goodness.
Presented in the living language of the storyteller, a vigorous form of traditional storytelling, the folk tale on paper should reveal precisely how a story is nourished. Like the Sun and Earth to an old tree, the storyteller’s words and phrases sustain the folk tale. With respect for the antiquity of the tradition, great care has been taken to retain Scottish idioms, syntax, grammar and colloquialisms which feature in the oral stories. All Scottish dialectal and Traveller cant vocabulary is defined in the Glossary.
‘Magical incantatory storytelling genius’ is the description of Duncan Williamson’s narrative used by Scotland’s
greatest folklorist of the twentieth century, Hamish Henderson (see the Introduction to
A Thorn in the King’s Foot
, Penguin, 1987). As custodian of the estate of Duncan Williamson and editor of his phenomenal repertoire, I hold his Scottish Traveller storyteller’s own, distinctive command of language in absolute regard. Concerning the demonic folk tales published in this volume, transcription has been the Devil’s work – recreating the original voice so that words fly to the ear from a printed page.