Again it seems that I have managed to lose my way to Germany and have instead headed northwards to the Scottish border. Fear not, dear friends, my compass has not gone wrong, as I have gone to Gretna Green for my Aunt and Uncle’s renewal of their vows for their pearl wedding anniversary (30 years), in the traditional anvil ceremony at the Old Blacksmith’s Shop.
For those who don’t know, Gretna Green is one of the first villages inside Scotland, and for this reason was a popular destination for young couples eloping to get married many years ago. In England, the law stated that the couple must either have their parents’ consent or be over 21 years of age, and had to be married in Parish Churches (with exceptions granted for Quakers and Jews). Yet, under Scottish law, the couple could marry without consent at the age of 16 and it was only the solemn promise that was needed to make the marriage legally binding, wherever it was held. Blacksmiths, as well as inn keepers, were called to witness and perform these marriages; so many in Gretna Green would wed couples as a secondary occupation, known as the anvil priesthood. Our destination, the Old Blacksmith’s Shop, is one of the oldest “marriage rooms” in Gretna Green, having performed marriages since 1754. On one occasion, it is believed that the anvil priest here returned home after a funeral to find eight couples waiting on his doorstep wanting to be wed. Anvil priests were said to work ‘doctors hours’, a reference to the fact that it was once possible to be wed at any time, day or night.
The ceremony is fairly simple; the anvil priest would ask the couple if they wished to be wed and they would make their vows to each other. The anvil priest would then strike the anvil with a hammer, declaring the couple to have been forged together, and they were wed. The ceremony was quick, so as not to disturb the blacksmith’s work too much, and also because the bride’s parents would usually be in hot pursuit – trying desperately to prevent the marriage from occurring. Even today, the ceremonies were performed in quick succession; within 5-10 minutes of our party leaving the room, the happy couple led by a traditional Scottish piper, the next wedding had already been ushered in. For those partnerships that did not have sufficient time to have the ceremony performed, they would be put into bed together; and the parents would be persuaded that they had arrived too late and the children had been married – only for the ceremony to be hastily performed later on. The only way to end these marriages was through an Act of Parliament annulling the marriage.
Following the ceremony, we went on to Dumfries, to have a traditional Scottish meal in The Globe pub, which was known to be Burns’ Howff (favourite haunt). The landlady, with a veritable Bodleian of Burns knowledge in her head, provided us with entertainment, including the traditional haggis ceremony, in which the haggis is piped into the room and Burns’ poem, Ode to a Haggis, is performed. Burns is said to have written this poem addressing the haggis after being informed that he would have to eat haggis with the servants, rather than feast upon French ragou upstairs with the gentry he had been entertaining.
Returning back to the castellated tower (having been assured that it was not simply a castle, as I had presumed wrongly it seems), and the bride and groom held court. We played table top versions of Highland Games and I was initiated into the Confrerie de Sabredour. Not a secret society as you might have thought, but instead a society of Sabreurs, who specialise in the art of Sabrage – chopping the corks off the top of champagne bottles using a sabre. I am pleased to say that my official first sabrage was successful, with not a drop of champagne spilt; my sister was also successful, and in her usual flamboyant style, achieved an arc of champagne to fly speedily across the room.
And so dear reader, I must now venture to the new life, which has been so nervously anticipated and excitedly awaited…
HALLO DEUTSCHLAND – ICH KOMME GLEICH!
No comments:
Post a Comment