June 23.
St. John’s Eve.
An ancient custom is still maintained by the inhabitants of Ripon, in Yorkshire. On midsummer-eve, every housekeeper, who, in the course of the year, has changed his residence into a new neighbourhood, spreads a table before his door in the street, with bread, cheese, and ale, for those who choose to resort to it. The guests, after staying awhile, if the master is of ability, are invited to supper, and the evening is concluded with mirth and good humour. The origin of this usage is unknown, but it probably was instituted for the purpose of introducing new comers to an early acquaintance with their neighbours; or, with the more laudable design of settling differences, by the meeting and mediation of friends.
The late rev. Donald M‘Queen, of Kilmuir, in the Isle of Sky, in certain reflections on ancient customs preserved in that island, mentions what he observed at this season in Ireland, where he conceives the catholic religion to have accommodated itself to the ancient superstitions of the natives, and grafted Christianity on pagan rites. He remarks, that “the Irish have ever been worshippers of fire and of Baal, and are so to this day. The chief festival in honour of the sun and fire is upon the 21st of June (23d?) when the sun arrives at the summer solstice, or rather begins its retrograde motion.”
Mr. M‘Queen says, “I was so fortunate in the summer of 1782 as to have my curiosity gratified. At the house where I was entertained, it was told me that we should see at midnight the most singular sight in Ireland, which was the lighting of fires in honour of the sun. Accordingly, exactly at midnight, the fires began to appear; and going up to the leads of the house, which had a widely extended view, I saw, on a radius of thirty miles, all around, the fires burning on every eminence which the country afforded. I had a farther satisfaction in learning, from undoubted authority, that the people danced round the fires, and at the close went through these fires, and made their sons and daughters, together with their cattle, pass through the fire, and the whole was concluded with religious solemnity.”[224]
The eve of the summer solstice was a season of divinations in early times, and with one of these, described by a living bard, the day may conclude.
St. John’s Eve.
St. John the Baptist’s eve, how clear and bright
Sinks the broad sun upon the waveless sea!
Above, below, around him, shedding light,
All glorious and beautiful to see:
Garish as day, with night’s tranquillity
Reposing on all things.—“Then bid farewell
To household duties and its drudgery—
Come, one and all, and this fair maid shall tell
Who shall be wise henceforth, from this our festival.”
At this fair summons men and women were
Wont to assemble to decide their fate:
The first begotten child with rose-deck’d hair
Clad as a bride—her features all sedate,
Like one of holy calling—walk’d in state,
Before a bacchanal procession, loud
In their mirth—dancing with glee elate—
And shouting as they went—a motley crowd
Spreading along the shore, like shadow from a cloud.
And when arrived where they were summoned, they
With water from the ocean, to the brim
Fill a small vessel as the first essay
Towards making into one the future—(dim
And dark as ’tis)—perceptible—to him
Alone this boon.—When a young virgin, fair,
With knocking heart that maketh her head swim
Lest she, her hopes, have wither’d—from her hair
Taketh a rose (her emblem) she had braided there;
And in the vessel drops it: Then the next,
Lovely as Hebe, from her faery zone,
Loosens the band that clasps it—somewhat vext
That like the rose it floats not—as ’tis known,
Or so imagined, that the charm hath flown
From what’s beneath the surface—so she deem’d
E’en when the next a diamond had thrown
Into the vessel, which, though sunken, seemed
A star upon the surface—it so upward gleamed.
After the fair ones, one and all, have cast
The bauble that each prized as somewhat dear,
The youths o’eranxious lest they be surpass’d
By maidens in their zealous acts sincere,
(Who crowd about them as they hover near
The sacred vase, observing them the while;)
Drop gold, and gems, and crystals for the ear,
Adorn’d with quaint devices, to beguile
With love, the heart that’s languishing, and free from guile.
Now all are gathered round in silence deep,
Heart throbbing maids, (like knots of flowers fair,
That bow unto the moon, whose soft rays sleep
Upon their beauty,) and youths flush’d with care
And keen anxiety, press forward there:
Meanwhile, the little cherub-bride draws nigh,
And from the vessel with her small hand fair,
Brings forth the gem that gladdens some one’s eye,
That grants to him or her the gift of prophecy.
Barton Wilford.