Medieval Halloween

The Plough Music Series is a regular selection of music intended to lift the heart to God. It is not a playlist of background music: each installment focuses on a single piece worth pausing to enjoy.

Since at least the seventh century, Christians have observed a vigil on All Hallows Eve to pray for the souls of the recently departed. Because Halloween is mostly a secular festival now, we’ll go to an anonymous fifteenth century poem, the Lyke Wake Dirge, for a reminder (jumping to the nineteenth century and paraphrasing Jacob Marley) that the chains we forge in life will remain our fetters – and that, more hopefully, our deeds of love can set us free, as promised in Matthew 25:31-46:

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink? And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?”

And the King will answer them, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.”

Then he will say to those at his left hand, “Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

Benjamin Britten wrote a setting for the Dirge (you can read some background on the poem here, but really, with the music, you won’t need to) in 1943. Beginning eerily with an unaccompanied tenor voice, the music soon becomes sinister with the addition of a scrabbling fugue in the low strings. The crescendo of sound and pitch reaches its height at 1:57, because now we have a horn playing at full volume as well. It all dies back down to the single voice: “And Christe receive thy saule.”

Photograph by Neven Krcmarek / Unsplash.

The recording below is sung by Peter Pears.

Lyke Wake Dirge

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.

When thou from hence away art past,
Every nighte and alle,
To Whinny-muir thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
Every nighte and alle,
Sit thee down and put them on;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane
Every nighte and alle,
The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.

From Whinny-muir whence thou may'st pass,
Every nighte and alle,
To Brig o' Dread thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

From Brig o' Dread whence thou may'st pass,
Every nighte and alle,
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gav'st meat or drink,
Every nighte and alle,
The fire sall never make thee shrink;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane,
Every nighte and alle,
The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.