In some parts of Scotland, says Pennant, there is a rural sacrifice on May-day. A cross is cut on some sticks, each of which is dipped in pottage, and the Thursday before Easter one of these is placed over the sheep-cote, the stable, or the cow-house. On the first of May they are carried to the hill, where the rites are celebrated, all decked with wild flowers, and after the feast is over replaced over the spots they were taken from. This was originally styled Clonau-Beltein, or the split branch of the fir of the rock.—Tour in Scotland, 1790, vol. i. p. 206.
County of Edinburgh.
At Edinburgh about four o’clock in the morning there is an unusual stir; and a hurrying of gay throngs through the King’s Park to Arthur’s Seat to collect the May-dew. In the course of half an hour the entire hill is a moving mass of all sorts of people. At the summit may be seen a company of bakers and other craftsmen, dressed in kilts, dancing round a maypole. On the more level part is usually an itinerant vendor of whisky, or mountain (not May) dew. These proceedings commence with the daybreak. About six o’clock the appearance of the gentry, toiling up the ascent, becomes the signal for servants to march home; for they know that they must have the house clean and everything in order earlier than usual on May-morning. About eight o’clock the fun is all over; and by nine or ten, were it not for the drunkards who are staggering towards the “gude town,” no one would know that anything particular had taken place.—See Every Day Book, vol. ii. p. 609.
Fergusson the Scottish poet thus describes this custom:—
“On May-day in a fairy ring
We’ve seen them, round St. Anthon’s spring,
Frae grass the caller dew-drops wring,
To wet their ein,
And water clear as crystal spring,
To synd them clean.”
Formerly the magistrates of Canongate, Edinburgh, used to walk in procession to church upon the first Sunday after Beltane, carrying large nosegays. This observance was evidently a modified relic of the ancient festival of the sun; and the original meaning of the custom must have been an expression of gratitude to that luminary, deified under the name of Baal, for the first-fruits of his genial influence.—Household Words, 1859, vol. xix. p. 558.
The Highlands.
On the first of May the herdsmen of every village hold their Beltein, a rural sacrifice. They cut a square trench on the ground, leaving the turf in the middle; on that they make a fire of wood, on which they dress a large caudle of eggs, butter, oatmeal, and milk; and bring, besides the ingredients of the caudle, plenty of beer and whisky, for each of the company must contribute something. The rites begin with spilling some of the caudle on the ground, by way of libation; on that every one takes a cake of oatmeal, upon which are raised nine square knobs, each dedicated to some particular being, the supposed preserver of their flocks and herds, or to some particular animal, the real destroyer of them: each person then turns his face to the fire, breaks off a knob, and flinging it over his shoulder, says, This I give to thee, preserve thou my horses; this to thee, preserve thou my sheep; and so on. After that they use the same ceremony to the noxious animals. This I give to thee, O fox! spare thou my lambs; this to thee, O hooded-crow! and this to thee, O eagle!
When the ceremony is over they dine on the caudle, and, after the feast is finished, what is left is hid by two persons deputed for that purpose; but on the next Sunday they re-assemble, and finish the reliques of the first entertainment.—Pennant’s Tour in Scotland, 1790, vol. i. p. 112.