THE LEGEND OF THE JACK-O-LANTERN

and it's humble beginnings as a turnip...
Or: The Devil & Jack, A Folk Tale

In olden days, there once lived in a small, rural village a man of mean and intemperant demeanor who went by the name of Jack. He was much despised and folks crossed the road to the other side when it happened they might cross his path. In other words; ol' Jack was prone to a bit of nastiness and known to tip a tankard of ale just a little more often than seemed proper.

Now it is said the Devil himself roamed far and wide, in those olden days looking for souls to steal. He would search the land for a wicked sort and snap them up before they could even think of redeeming themselves. He was often seen and much feared by common folk. When he happened upon the village where ol' Jack made his home, the Devil took much delight in the tales of Jack's misdeeds. He happily sensed a golden opportunity to seize a soul from such a lowly and sorry excuse for a human.

Being a crafty sort, and in the mood for some sport the Devil laid a trap for ol' Jack. So it was that the Devil climbed a tree beside the road ol' Jack was sure to travel and he waited. Patient he was and so sure of his prize he took a short nap, finally rousing himself with a snort and a loud snore. Much refreshed and smiling slyly to himself he awaited the twilight hours when Jack would make his winding, stumbling, drunken way down the road from the village.

Now Jack was in a sorry, drunken state; that's for sure. But not so drunk that he didn't hear the whisper of his name amoung the dry leaves of that tree. "Jaaacccckkkk!" Staggering across the road and hugging the tree for support, Jack tried to focus on the gleaming eyes of the being who chuckled at him from his perch. A being with long arms and dangling legs glistening all dark and red in the shadows... the only dicernible feature were huge glowing eyes, flashing with sparks of yellow and black and green.

Jack shivered... "Be you a devil?", slurred Jack.

"A devil?" the eyes answered, "Nooooooooo! THE DEVIL! Yes!" and fiendish laughter echoed through the dark night causing the common folk to bar the doors, shutter their windows and light the lamps... they huddled together under the covers in terror and listened to the howl of the wind and the growing grumble of thunder in the distance.

Quick as lightning the Devil's long arm snaked out and he caught Jack up by the hair of his head, sending his hat skittering down the street along with a thousand leaves from the tree, for a fierce storm was blowing in. He lifted ol' Jack up and held him aloft so that they might look eyeball to eyeball. "Now Jack, it's close you are to meeting your maker, " growled the Devil, "And it's closer still you be to spending eternity with me! What say you to that?" and the Devil smiled a most crooked grin.

But Jack, being craftier than most and becoming more sober by the minute summoned the courage to beg the Devil for one last request and he whined; rather loudly it is said, for one last favor. So loudly; in fact, that it annoyed the Devil so much, he dropped ol' Jack.

Jack landed in a tumble at the base of the tree. He groveled and squirmed and rolled in the dust crying all the time, "Have pity! Have mercy! I beg of you a final request!" over and over and over until the Devil pointed a long and crooked finger and yelled, "QUIET!". and a bolt of lightning struck the ground so close to Jack that his boots were smoking and his hair was singed black and the thunder was deafening.

Then, suddenly there fell a dreadful silence... even the winds died and not a leaf rustled upon the tree. Jack covered his head with his coat and quaked.

Well, the Devil was most pleased with himself for that audacious display of power and feeling mildly benevolent and slightly victorious decided to grant Jack his last wish. Now the argument went on well into the night with Jack asking for this or that and the Devil saying no, not this and no, not that again and again and again... Finally, growing weary of the sport the Devil told Jack he would only hear one more request.

So, Jack (thinking the Devil would lose much of his power in sunlight) said, "Alas! I would see the sun rise one last time...."

And the Devil (knowing what Jack was thinking) said, "The dawn is all I will allow... the dawn and nothing more... so be it."

Just then, a rosy glow came over the horizon and ol' Jack played his last card. He jumped to his feet quite suddenly disturbing the Devil in mid-yawn... "I must leave some token of my passing!" cried Jack. "I must carve my name into this tree!" The Devil lifted an eyebrow... and Jack hastily added, "And your name as well... So all that pass from this day forward will remember my sad fate and be ever mindful and truly fearful of thee!"

Now the Devil, secretly pleased with the idea of his name upon that tree, was tired from the long night and weary of Jack's weedling tongue. So, he forgot one very important thing. Jack was a liar and a first class cheat and had never spent an honest day in his entire life. He quickly said, "Be done with it..."

So Jack drew his knife from a sheathe in his charred boot and quickly carved a cross upon the trunk of the tree, and another and another. So that the tree was carved all the way around and up and down with crosses. "So it is done!", he cried jumping around the tree in a crazy jig. "I have won! I have bested the Devil himself!"

And the Devil swore and howled and screamed, tore at his ears and turned blood red in the breaking light and his eyes turned black and deadly until the yellow and green were tiny little slits upon his grim visage.. All this time ol' Jack jumped and hooted and laughed finally daring the Devil to get down... "Get down if you can! Devil Man!"

The Devil; being such as he was, after awhile grew calm enough to consider his predicament. Now it seemed he was looking at spending the rest of his days in that tree. Right then and there, an old wives tale was put to rest. It became known that very day; for a fact, that the Devil must never touch a cross or allow his shadow to touch one either. Nor could anyone other than the one who imprisons the Devil ever free him.

Now the Devil knew the only solution to this dilemma was to strike a bargain. And Jack, it seems knew this as well. And so, during the long, hot hours of the day Jack made the Devil swear and swear again a solemn oath that he would never bother Jack again nor seek to claim his soul ever again.

"I swear", said the Devil, " I will leave you be for the remainder of your days in this life, if you help me get down from this tree."

But that wasn't good enough for Jack. He sought a harder bargain. "Not just this life, Devil! But for all eternity! You will leave me be and my soul will be free!"

Quietly; shaking his head, the Devil agreed. Just after sunset and before the moon rose, in that time of day without shadows, ol' Jack helped the Devil down from his tree. Ol Jack just couldn't stop laughing, bent over double and slapped his knees... holding his sides and wiping his eyes... he laughed louder and louder.

"Laugh if you will, Jack", whispered the Devil in a mocking tone, as he set foot upon the ground. "Live long, my clever friend, if you can't live well. The joke is all on you, I fear. For when you die your soul will find no rest in Heaven or Hell." With that said, the Devil disappeared into the darkness, with never a look back at what came to be known as the 'Devil Tree'.

But Jack paid the Devil's warning no heed and spent the rest of his miserable life drinking and brawling and bragging about the day he bested the Devil. He did not live well and he did not live long. Eventually he died, a bitter and lonely excuse for a man, who was buried, as seemed fitting, beneath the 'Devil Tree'. And never, it is said did that tree bear leaf again.

Jack's spirit drifted in the void of the unknown for a very long time. Finally; and quite by chance he arrived at the gates of Heaven only to be rejected there because of the unseemly and deceitful way he spent his life. Drinking and cheating and lying. Indeed; upon the completion of his heavenly review, it was concluded he had not one redeeming quality. "But I bested the Devil, himself!", he cried, "Beat him at his own game, I did!"

"Poor Jack! That remains to be seen," said the hosts of Heaven. And they banished him from the sight of Heaven for all time. "Be gone! And Back from whence you came!"

And Jack fell down and down into the darkness, whipped about by terrible, howling winds and blinded by a fierce, driving rain. Seeking warmth and shelter ol' Jack sought the fiery gates of Hell and fell upon them in a sodden heap.

Alas! Poor Jack! Knocking on the door of Hell afforded him no better luck. Because of his solemn oath not to claim Jack's soul for all eternity, the Devil could not and would not allow him to enter his realm, either. "Ah Jack," said the Devil. "It was a hard bargain we struck that day so long ago. But a bargain it was. I may be the Devil but I'm a man of my word. No rest has your soul found in Heaven. No rest shall it find in Hell." And with a wave of his long arm, he sent ol' Jack tumbling into the abyss. "Be gone with you! and Back from whence you came!", shouted the Devil.

But, from the darkness came a deafening racket. Jack complained the way was windy and cold... and howled, "I'm so very hungry!" The Devil pointed a crooked finger at a turnip and said, "Eat an be filled." For such is all the sustenance you will ever have.

Once again, he ordered, "Be gone!"

But Jack, crunching on the turnip added woefully, "I shall never find my way! It is so very dark! Have pity!"

The Devil, finally having lost all patience, picked a coal right from the fire of hell and threw it straight at Jack who caught it and placed it inside the turnip to shield it from the fury of the winds and rains of hell. "Be Gone, Jack! Back from whence you came!"

Thus it came about; ol' Jack was doomed to wander the earth as a lost soul for all eternity. Some say, he carved a likeness of the Devil himself upon the face of the turnip. To this very day folks say they see ol' Jack with his ghostly lantern wandering the countryside, ever seeking a place of final rest and never finding it.

The End

(adapted from an 18th Century Folk Myth by yours truly)