The Seven Whistlers
October 30, 2017 5:09 PM Subscribe
The Ellensburgh Capital, 1904: “In some parts of England peculiar whistling or yelping noises are heard in the air after dusk and early in the morning before daylight in the winter months.” The Leicester Chronicle (quoted), 1853: “Strange, mysterious sounds are heard in the air at night, sometimes like the distant singing of a flock of birds, and at other times resembling the smothered wailings of children chanting a funeral dirge.” The Gentleman's Magazine, July 1782, page 338: “Some months ago, I and all my neighbours, as I heard afterwards, late in an evening, were alarmed with a whistling, which, on going out of doors, seemed to be in the air, and at such a height, that everyone thought it just over his head."
Wikipedia: “In the UK there is a superstitious belief in the "Seven Whistlers" which are seven mysterious birds or spirits who call out to foretell death or a great calamity. In the 19th century, large groups of coal miners were known to have refused to enter the mines for one day after hearing this spectral whistling. The Seven Whistlers have been mentioned in literature such as The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, as bearing an omen of death. William Wordsworth included fear of the Seven Whistlers in his poem, "Though Narrow Be That Old Man's Cares". The superstition has been reported in the Midland Counties of England but also in Lancashire, Essex, Kent, and even in other places such as North Wales and Portugal.”
A Dictionary of English Folklore: “These were said to be seven birds, flying together by night, whose cries forebode disaster. Belief in them was fairly common among seamen and coal-miners in the 19th century, these being risky occupations where whistling was thought to be unlucky. Sometimes the Whistlers were said to be the spirits of the dead, especially those who had themselves been miners or fishermen, returning to warn comrades of danger; when they were heard, one must at once stop work and go home, otherwise lives would be lost. Even those who knew the cries were in fact those of curlews and similar birds still dreaded the sound, and would not work till the next day (Henderson, 1866: 100; Burne, 1883: 231–2; Billson, 1895: 36–8; Wright, 1913: 197). In Leicestershire, the Whistlers were said to be seven colliers who got drunk on a Sunday and agreed to whistle after dark, for a bet; a whirlwind carried them up into the clouds, where they must fly as swifts for ever (Palmer, 1985: 61, 100–1). In Lancashire, some said they were the souls of wandering Jews, similarly doomed. In Worcestershire, and occasionally in Shropshire, it was said that ‘six of them fly about looking for the seventh, and when they find him the world will end’”
English folklorist Jabez Allies (quoted), 1846: “I have been informed by Mr. John Pressdee of Worcester, that the country people used to talk a good deal about the 'Seven Whistlers' when he was a boy, and that he frequently heard his late grandfather, John Pressdee, who lived at Cuckold's Knoll, in Suckley, say that he oftentimes, at night, when he happened to be upon the hill by his house, heard six out of the 'Seven Whistlers' pass over his head, but that no more than six of them were ever heard by him, or by any one else to whistle at one time, and that should the seven whistle together the world would be at an end.”
Roaringwater Journal: “In Irish bird folklore, the Curlew does not come over in a good light. It has a very distinctive and haunting call, and this has probably contributed to associations with the Otherworld. Mac Coitor says: …The Curlew was famous for its whistling and screeching calls, which were believed to foretell the arrival of rain or stormy weather… while Scottish poet Norman Alexander MacCaig (1910 – 1996) describes the Curlew’s voice:
Trailing bubbles of music over the squelchy hillside… music as desolate, as beautiful as your loved places, mountainy marshes and glistening mudflats by the stealthy sea…
Curlews fly at dusk, sometimes in groups: this has given rise to accounts of The Seven Whistlers in both Britain and Ireland.”
Curlew calls by Mary Colwell-Hector: “Sad, melancholy, even downright ominous – the curlew has often been associated with death. In some areas, The Seven Whistlers were thought to be curlew, a painful cry renting the air that chilled those who heard it. In Wales the call of the curlew was associated with Cwn Annwyn, the name given to the mythical black dogs that hound the souls of the dead across the sky. To hear a curlew at night was to expect disaster.”
Notes and Queries, Fifth series, October 3, 1874: “These supposed warners of evil to come are on the wing again and their shrill alarum still strikes terror into superstitious souls. In Notes & Queries (4th S viii 68) record was made of their having been heard in Leicestershire, also of Spenser's allusion to "The whistler shrill that whoso hears doth die," and that the develin or martin the swift and the plover were probably of the whistling fraternity that frightened men. At page 134 it was shown that Wordsworth had spoken of one who -
"...the seven birds hath seen that never part,
Seen the Seven Whistlers in their nightly rounds,
And counted them."”
The Prophecy, by Iron Maiden:
“Now that I know that the right time has come,
My prediction will surely be true.
The impending disaster, it looms,
And the whole of the village is doomed.
Why won't you listen to me?
Is it so hard to understand?
That I am the real seventh son,
Your life or death on me depends.
Suffering and pain, impending disaster,
Souls crying, the Devil's laughter.
I heard the cry of the seven whistlers,
Lucifer smiles, looks on and awaits...”
The Seven Whistlers, by Mary Eliza
“Birds whose cries foretell disaster,
Six who've flown forever, 'til after,
They find the Seventh, the key to end
The world and to the darkness send.”
Wikipedia: “In the UK there is a superstitious belief in the "Seven Whistlers" which are seven mysterious birds or spirits who call out to foretell death or a great calamity. In the 19th century, large groups of coal miners were known to have refused to enter the mines for one day after hearing this spectral whistling. The Seven Whistlers have been mentioned in literature such as The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, as bearing an omen of death. William Wordsworth included fear of the Seven Whistlers in his poem, "Though Narrow Be That Old Man's Cares". The superstition has been reported in the Midland Counties of England but also in Lancashire, Essex, Kent, and even in other places such as North Wales and Portugal.”
A Dictionary of English Folklore: “These were said to be seven birds, flying together by night, whose cries forebode disaster. Belief in them was fairly common among seamen and coal-miners in the 19th century, these being risky occupations where whistling was thought to be unlucky. Sometimes the Whistlers were said to be the spirits of the dead, especially those who had themselves been miners or fishermen, returning to warn comrades of danger; when they were heard, one must at once stop work and go home, otherwise lives would be lost. Even those who knew the cries were in fact those of curlews and similar birds still dreaded the sound, and would not work till the next day (Henderson, 1866: 100; Burne, 1883: 231–2; Billson, 1895: 36–8; Wright, 1913: 197). In Leicestershire, the Whistlers were said to be seven colliers who got drunk on a Sunday and agreed to whistle after dark, for a bet; a whirlwind carried them up into the clouds, where they must fly as swifts for ever (Palmer, 1985: 61, 100–1). In Lancashire, some said they were the souls of wandering Jews, similarly doomed. In Worcestershire, and occasionally in Shropshire, it was said that ‘six of them fly about looking for the seventh, and when they find him the world will end’”
English folklorist Jabez Allies (quoted), 1846: “I have been informed by Mr. John Pressdee of Worcester, that the country people used to talk a good deal about the 'Seven Whistlers' when he was a boy, and that he frequently heard his late grandfather, John Pressdee, who lived at Cuckold's Knoll, in Suckley, say that he oftentimes, at night, when he happened to be upon the hill by his house, heard six out of the 'Seven Whistlers' pass over his head, but that no more than six of them were ever heard by him, or by any one else to whistle at one time, and that should the seven whistle together the world would be at an end.”
Roaringwater Journal: “In Irish bird folklore, the Curlew does not come over in a good light. It has a very distinctive and haunting call, and this has probably contributed to associations with the Otherworld. Mac Coitor says: …The Curlew was famous for its whistling and screeching calls, which were believed to foretell the arrival of rain or stormy weather… while Scottish poet Norman Alexander MacCaig (1910 – 1996) describes the Curlew’s voice:
Trailing bubbles of music over the squelchy hillside… music as desolate, as beautiful as your loved places, mountainy marshes and glistening mudflats by the stealthy sea…
Curlews fly at dusk, sometimes in groups: this has given rise to accounts of The Seven Whistlers in both Britain and Ireland.”
Curlew calls by Mary Colwell-Hector: “Sad, melancholy, even downright ominous – the curlew has often been associated with death. In some areas, The Seven Whistlers were thought to be curlew, a painful cry renting the air that chilled those who heard it. In Wales the call of the curlew was associated with Cwn Annwyn, the name given to the mythical black dogs that hound the souls of the dead across the sky. To hear a curlew at night was to expect disaster.”
Notes and Queries, Fifth series, October 3, 1874: “These supposed warners of evil to come are on the wing again and their shrill alarum still strikes terror into superstitious souls. In Notes & Queries (4th S viii 68) record was made of their having been heard in Leicestershire, also of Spenser's allusion to "The whistler shrill that whoso hears doth die," and that the develin or martin the swift and the plover were probably of the whistling fraternity that frightened men. At page 134 it was shown that Wordsworth had spoken of one who -
"...the seven birds hath seen that never part,
Seen the Seven Whistlers in their nightly rounds,
And counted them."”
The Prophecy, by Iron Maiden:
“Now that I know that the right time has come,
My prediction will surely be true.
The impending disaster, it looms,
And the whole of the village is doomed.
Why won't you listen to me?
Is it so hard to understand?
That I am the real seventh son,
Your life or death on me depends.
Suffering and pain, impending disaster,
Souls crying, the Devil's laughter.
I heard the cry of the seven whistlers,
Lucifer smiles, looks on and awaits...”
The Seven Whistlers, by Mary Eliza
“Birds whose cries foretell disaster,
Six who've flown forever, 'til after,
They find the Seventh, the key to end
The world and to the darkness send.”
Two samples:
Call of the long billed curlew
Bush-Stone curlews making their strange "wailing" calls
posted by oheso at 3:00 AM on October 31, 2017 [1 favorite]
Call of the long billed curlew
Bush-Stone curlews making their strange "wailing" calls
posted by oheso at 3:00 AM on October 31, 2017 [1 favorite]
who lived at Cuckold's Knoll, in Suckley...Ah the country folk.
I, too, marveled at this. Sadly, all the references of which Google knows point to this same passage ... Suckley, however, is a real place.
posted by oheso at 3:05 AM on October 31, 2017
I, too, marveled at this. Sadly, all the references of which Google knows point to this same passage ... Suckley, however, is a real place.
posted by oheso at 3:05 AM on October 31, 2017
It was all just an early alternative folk band rehearsing, The Radioeheade Players.
posted by dowcrag at 5:10 AM on October 31, 2017
posted by dowcrag at 5:10 AM on October 31, 2017
There's a similar phenomenon of booming noises at night, reported from various places around the world, hence names like "Seneca Guns" or "Barisal Guns".
posted by Quindar Beep at 7:05 AM on October 31, 2017
posted by Quindar Beep at 7:05 AM on October 31, 2017
Here is something to listen to. A little toward the middle it gets very Halloween.
posted by Oyéah at 8:56 AM on October 31, 2017
posted by Oyéah at 8:56 AM on October 31, 2017
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posted by Oyéah at 5:17 PM on October 30, 2017 [4 favorites]