British Popular Customs, Present and Past. T. F. Thiselton-Dyer

See ‘New Year’s Eve.’

SCOTLAND.

       Table of Contents

      In the Memoirs of Lord Langdale by Sir T. D. Hardy, 1852, vol. i. p. 55, occurs the following:

      “Being in Scotland, I ought to tell you of Scotch customs; and really they have a charming one on this occasion (i.e. New Year’s Day). Whether it is meant as a farewell ceremony to the old one, or an introduction to the New Year, I can’t tell; but on the 31st of December, almost everybody has a party, either to dine or sup. The company, almost entirely consisting of young people, wait together till twelve o’clock strikes, at which time every one begins to move, and they all fall to work. At what? why, kissing. Each male is successively locked in pure Platonic embrace with each female; and after this grand ceremony, which of course creates infinite fun, they separate and go home. This matter is not at all confined to these, but wherever man meets woman it is the particular privilege of this hour. The common people think it necessary to drink what they call hot-pint, which consists of strong beer, whisky, eggs, &c.; a most horrid composition; as bad, or worse than that infamous mixture called fig-one,[3] which the English people drink on Good Friday.”

[3] Doubtless a misprint for fig-sue. See under Good Friday.

      The letter from which this is an extract is signed Henry Beckersteth, and dated Edinburgh, January 1st, 1802.

      Till very few years ago, in Scotland (says a correspondent of Chambers’ Book of Days, vol. i. p. 28), the custom of first-footing was practised on New Year’s morning.

On the approach of twelve o’clock of the last night of the old year, a hot-pint[4] was prepared—that is, a kettle or flagon full of warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, with an infusion of spirits. When the clock had struck the knell of the departed year, each member of the family drank of this mixture, “and good health, and a happy New Year, and many of them, to all the rest,” with a general hand-shaking, and perhaps a dance round the table, with the addition of a song to the tune of Hey tuttie taitie:

      “Weel may we a’ be,

       Ill may we never see.

       Here’s to the king

       And the gude companie!” &c.

[4] Called also a het-pint. Time’s Telescope, 1824, p. 3.

      The elders of the family would then most probably sally out with the hot kettle, and bearing also a competent provision of buns and short-bread, or bread-and-cheese, with the design of visiting their neighbours, and interchanging with them the same cordial greetings. If they met by the way another party similarly bent whom they knew, they would stop, and give and take sips from their respective kettles. Reaching the friend’s house, they would enter with vociferous good wishes, and soon send the kettle circulating. If they were the first to enter the house since twelve o’clock they were deemed as the first-foot; and as such it was most important for luck to the family in the coming year, that they should make this entry not empty-handed, but with their hands full of cakes, and bread-and-cheese; of which, on the other hand, civility demanded that each individual in the house should partake.

      To such an extent did this custom prevail in Edinburgh, in the recollection of persons still living, that according to their account, the principal streets were more thronged between twelve and one in the morning than they usually were at mid-day. Much innocent mirth prevailed, and mutual good feelings were largely promoted. An unlucky circumstance which took place on the 1st January, 1812, proved the means of nearly extinguishing the custom. A small party of reckless boys formed the design of turning the innocent festivities of first-footing to account for purposes of plunder. They kept their counsel well. No sooner had the people come abroad on the principal thoroughfares of the Old Town than these youths sallied out in small bands, and commenced the business which they had undertaken. Their previous agreement was to look out for the white neckcloths, such being the best mark by which they could distinguish in the dark individuals likely to carry any property worthy of being taken. A great number of gentlemen were thus spoiled of their watches and other valuables. The least resistance was resented by the most brutal maltreatment. A policeman and a young man of the rank of a clerk in Leith died of the injuries they had received. An affair so singular, so uncharacteristic of the people among whom it happened, produced a widespread and lasting feeling of surprise. The outrage was expiated by the execution of three of the youthful rioters on the chief scene of their wickedness; but from that time it was observed that the old custom of going about with the hot pint—the ancient wassail—fell off.

      There was in Scotland also a first-footing independent of the hot-pint. It was a time for some youthful friend of the family to steal to the door, in the hope of meeting there the young maiden of his fancy, and obtaining the privilege of a kiss as her first-foot. Great was the disappointment on his part, and great the joking among the family, if, through accident or plan, some half-withered aunt or ancient grand-dame came to receive him instead of the blooming Jenny.—Book of Days, vol. i. p. 29.

      In the south of Scotland, as soon as the clock has struck the midnight hour, one of a family goes to the well as quickly as possible, and carefully skims it; this they call getting the scum or ream (cream) of the well:

      “Twall struck—twa neebour hizzies raise,

       An’ liltin gaed a sad gate;

       The flower o’ the well to our house gaes

       An’ I’ll the bonniest lad get.”

      The flower of the well signifies the first pail of water, and the girl who is so fortunate as to obtain the prize is supposed to have more than a double chance of obtaining the most accomplished young man in the parish.—Med. Ævi Kalend. vol. i. p. 129.

      As soon as the last night of the year sets in, it is the signal with the Strathdown Highlander for the suspension of his usual employment, and he directs his attention to more agreeable callings. The men form into bands, with tethers and axes, and shaping their course to the juniper bushes, they return home laden with mighty loads, which are arranged round the fire to dry until morning. A certain discreet person is despatched to the dead and living ford to draw a pitcher of water in profound silence, without the vessel touching the ground, lest its virtue should be destroyed, and on his return all retire to rest. Early on New Year’s morning the usque-cashrichd, or water from the dead and living ford, is drunk, as a potent charm until next New Year’s Day, against the spells of witchcraft, the malignity of evil eyes, and the activity of all infernal agency. The qualified Highlander then takes a large brush, with which he profusely asperses the occupants of all beds; from whom it is not unusual for him to receive ungrateful remonstrances against ablution. This ended, and the doors and windows being thoroughly closed, and all crevices stopped, he kindles piles of the collected juniper in the different apartments, till the vapour from the burning branches condenses into opaque clouds, and coughing, sneezing, wheezing, gasping, and other demonstrations of suffocation ensue. The operator, aware that the more intense the “smuchdan” the more propitious the solemnity, disregards these indications, and continues, with streaming eyes and averted head, to increase the fumigation, until in his own defence he admits the air to recover the exhausted household and himself. He then treats the horses, cattle, and other bestial stock in the town with the same smothering, to keep them from harm throughout the year. When the gude wife gets up, and having ceased from coughing, has gained sufficient strength to reach the bottle dhu, she administers its comfort to the relief