Of brides, betrothal and brutal bleckenins

December 2004

FISHER CUSTOMS
by Anna Stewart

In years gone by, aye, and more recently, the marriage of an east-coast fisher lass and lad was a solemn occasion and strict procedures were observed.

In Auchmithie everyone in the village got a biddin, or invitation. One young lass, sent out to invite all the villagers, encountered the laird. ‘You can come an aa,’ she said; though there is nothing on record to suggest that he took her up on the offer.

Most of the fishing community of Arbroath were ‘emigrants’ from Auchmithie, Ferryden and Usan, and many of the wedding customs originated in Auchmithie.

Preparations for the wedding started at least a week before the big day with the Fillin o’ the Ticks, to which the aunts were invited. Pillows and mattresses were filled with down and the bed was made up in the marriage house.

The Feet Washin involved the older married women, though young ones could observe.The bride was set on a stool and the women solemnly washed and dried her feet, a cleansing ritual to ward off evil spirits, said to be a re-enactment of Jesus’ washing of his disciples’ feet.

The wedding house was whitewashed by the younger men and the furniture arranged, in preparation to receiving the china. The Carrying o’ the Dishes procession involved the wedding party, the extended family and anyone else who wanted to join in, and the fisher community turned out to watch. The younger folk packed the china in creels and ceremoniously carried them through the streets, preceded by a bell-ringer.

Ornaments carried status and the young girls vied with each other to collect the best. Many brides-to-be followed the herring, travelling to the English fishing ports to find work and carefully laying by sillar to buy china. The number of laden creels indicated how hard-working and provident the lass had been. The older women waited at the marriage house, for theirs was the honour of displaying the dishes along shelves set close to the ceiling.

The prospective bridegroom had chosen his best man and warst man and theirs was the task of carryin the kists to the couple’s new home. The bride-to-be was waiting at the marriage house to receive them, and the best man knocked three times at the door to summon her. The kists were set on the doorstep and unlocked; the lid was opened and closed three times, then the kist was turned around and carried inside. The men then blessed the house. In Auchmithie, the bride would have made a wave-like pattern all over the doorstep with white cam. All these rituals were observed to ward off evil spirits – many of the houses had a witch-ball hanging in the window.

The bridegroom put all his money in pooches and gave them to his best man, who carried them to the bride-to-be in her new home, acknowledging that she was the keeper of the household finances from then on.

The Bleckenin – in which the groom is liberally coated with all kinds of unspeakable gunge, then tied to a pole – is still observed in some places today, though nowadays he’s usually tied to a chair on a lorry and driven round the streets. Grooms can be grateful that the practice of using stove black has died out, as it became ingrained in the skin and it took hours of scrubbing to remove it. Later fish dye and feathers were in vogue.

With the dawning of the wedding day, the bride put a piece of silver in her shoe, thereby walking from her family home on silver. Another silver piece was given to the first person she met outside. For many years in Arbroath, the first to greet the bride-to-be was Isy’s Wull’s Jean’s Kit, who, as long as she was able, never missed a bride.

Auchmithie wedding parties walked from the village to St Vigeans, led by a fiddler. Behind him came an older woman, dancing in front of the bride and groom. En route to St Vigeans, the Auchmithie parties stopped frequently for a dram and a dance, so it was a merry group which arrived at the church to receive the bessing from the ‘man in the black coat’ or the ‘sky pilot’, as he was sometimes called. The word ‘minister’ was seldom uttered.

In later days a London bobby or a sweep were sought after to bring good luck. The Arbroath sweep was a kenspeckle figure and, like many of his era, enjoyed a good dram. ‘Enjoyed’ is perhaps not forceful enough. One night, stricken with remorse, the sweep not only signed the pledge, but toured the Fit o’ the Toon persuading others to sign, too. His good intentions were short-lived though; he was known to accept a dram or three for his presence in wedding processions for years afterwards.

The bridegroom and his attendants carried small change to throw to the children, in return for their making a noise to scare off the devil. Still observed, this custom is called the ‘hize’ in Arbroath, the ‘scrammle’ in Forfar and the ‘poor oot’ in parts of Fife. It also symbolised new beginnings.

One wonders how the bride’s father felt at this time. In Arbroath he had to supply drink to all who put out flags to mark the occasion. Since many folk strung bunting from their houses and most of the skippers dressed their boats, his liquor bill must have been astronomical.

Another expense was borne by the groom’s parents. It was customary, almost to the 1940s, for the son of a skipper to work on the family boat for his keep and a bit of pocket money. When the lad married, his parents furnished his new home and put provisions in the larder. Thereafter, he was paid a wage befitting a married man.

After the wedding the bride was expected to sheel the mussels and bait her husband’s line for the boat. Many bought and cured fish, then dressed in their up-the-toon fishers’ dresses and sold their wares in towns and villages throughout Kincardineshire, Angus and Perthshire.

These days are long gone and today’s brides must surely be glad of it, for such a life was a haird ca’.

Anna Stewart of the Arbroath Writers would like to learn more of wedding customs from other parts of Scotland and welcomes input from Leopard readers. ‘The ways of my ain folk have always fascinated me,’ she says.

This is an article from the December 2004 edition of Leopard Magazine. To read much more like this every month, subscribe to Leopard Magazine.