Several customs have been observed in various portions of the United Kingdom at Lammas. A very curious custom was practised in Scotland until about the middle of last century. This appears to be a relic of the ancient pagan festival of the Gule of August, and was practised in some parts of the Lothians. We are informed that near the beginning of summer the herdsmen within a certain district associated themselves into bands, which in some instances numbered one hundred members, and occasionally more. It was agreed by each of these communities to build a tower (generally of sods) in some conspicuous place near the centre of their respective districts, to serve as their place of rendezvous on Lammas Day. The base of the erection was usually about four feet square. The tower, seven or eight feet high, was made to slope up to a point, above which floated the colours of the party who had erected it. From the commencement of its being built, the tower became an object of care to the whole community, for it was deemed a disgrace to suffer it to be defaced. Any attempt made to demolish it, either by fraud or force, was resolutely resisted. Each party endeavoured to circumvent the other, and laid plans to steal out unperceived in the night-time and to level the tower to the ground. A successful exploit brought great honour to the undertakers of the expedition. Although the tower was easily rebuilt, yet the news was quickly spread through the whole district by the successful adventurers, who filled it with shouts of joy and exultation, while their unfortunate neighbours were covered with shame. To ward off this disgrace, guard was kept at night at each tower, which was made stronger and stronger as the building advanced. Numerous petty skirmishes ensued; but the assailants seldom made an attack in force, preferring rather to succeed by surprise. As soon, therefore, as they saw they were discovered, they made off as best they could.
Dr James Ferguson—to whom we are indebted for the facts concerning the Lothian Lammas tower builders—states that in order to give the alarm on these and other occasions, every person was armed with a ‘tooting-horn,’ that is, a horn perforated in the small end, through which wind can be forcibly blown from the mouth so as to occasion a loud noise. As every one wished to acquire dexterity in the use of this instrument, the herdsmen practised upon it during the summer while tending their flocks or herds. Towards Lammas, they were incessantly employed answering to and vieing with each other, so that the whole country rang continually with the sounds.
Before the day of the ceremony came round, each community elected a captain; and a stand of colours was prepared for the great event. This consisted of a fine table-cloth of the largest size, decorated with ribbons. All things being ready, the band of herdsmen sallied forth on the morning of the first of August, attired in their best apparel, and armed with stout cudgels. Repairing to the neighbouring tower, the colours were displayed in triumph; then the assembly indulged in horn-blowing and in making merry until about nine o’clock, when they partook of breakfast as they sat upon the green-sward. Scouts were despatched to every quarter to watch the approach of any hostile party.
It frequently happened that on Lammas Day the herdsmen of one district proceeded to attack those of another locality, to bring them under subjection by force. On the approach of a hostile party the horns sounded to arms; the band immediately arranged itself in the best order that could be devised—the boldest and strongest in front, and those of inferior prowess behind. They seldom remained on the defensive, but generally rushed forward bravely to meet the enemy. The captains carried the colours and led the van. When both parties met, they mutually desired each other to lower their colours, in sign of subjection. When there appeared a great disproportion in the strength of the bands, the weakest usually submitted to this ceremony without difficulty, believing their honour was saved by the evident disproportion of the match. If the bands were nearly equal in strength, neither of them yielded; blows ensued, and sometimes bloodshed. It is said that on one occasion four herdsmen were killed and many disabled. If no opponents appeared, or if they themselves had no intention of making an attack, the bands took down their colours about mid-day from their towers, and marched, blowing their horns, to the largest village in the neighbourhood. Here they were met by the lasses and the people generally, who participated in the diversions of the day. Boundaries were marked out, and proclamation made that all who intended to compete in the foot-races should appear. Prizes were offered. The first prize, usually a bonnet ornamented with ribbons, was displayed upon a pole. Sometimes half-a-dozen competitors started, and ran with as great eagerness as if the prize had been a kingdom. A pair of garters was awarded to the victor of the second race; and the winner of the third gained a knife. After the races were over, the people amused themselves in such rural sports as suited their taste, and before sunset dispersed quietly to their respective homes.
In the case where two parties met and one of them yielded to the other, they marched together for some time in two separate bodies, the subjected body behind the other, and then they parted good friends, each holding their games at their own appointed place. Next day, the ribbons and tablecloth that formed the colours were returned to their respective owners; the tower was no longer a matter of consequence, and the country returned to its usual state of tranquillity.
THE LOTTERY OF DEATH.
AN EPISODE IN GUERRILLA WARFARE.
While on a trip to Europe last summer, I noticed in the smoking-room of the good steamer Servia a rather portly, middle-aged gentleman, with a mild expression of countenance, and certainly no trace of the soldier in his bearing; and yet he was the hero of a thrilling adventure. I was introduced to him by one of the officers of the steamer, and found him to be an insurance agent in a large way, going abroad for needed rest—Mr Balcom by name. In the course of a conversation on personal courage, one evening, over our after-dinner cigars, my new-found friend related the following interesting adventure:
You know, in the late war between the North and South, nearly all our able-bodied men on both sides of the line were more or less soldiers of some sort. I was myself a Captain and ‘Commissary of Subsistence’ in the United States Volunteers, and was attached to a cavalry brigade in the army of the Potomac. In the Fall of 1864, my brigade was located in camp for the winter about four or five miles to the south of Winchester, Virginia. As a ‘commissary,’ I had constantly to pass with my train of wagons from the town to camp; but so confident was I that no danger could possibly befall me on that short jaunt, actually all within our own lines, that I carried neither sword nor pistol. Well, one pleasant afternoon in the latter part of November, as I was riding with my orderly, a good soldier, by the name of Leonard, at the head of the wagon-train, wearying of the slow progress made by the mule-teams, I placed the train in charge of the commissary sergeant, and rode on ahead, followed by my orderly only. I had gone little more than half-way to camp—the road we followed became wooded by young timber and underbrush—when, as I turned a bend in the road, I saw four or five mounted men about a quarter of a mile in advance of us. Calling my orderly to my side, I asked him what he thought of them.
‘I guess they are some of our boys, sir. They have our uniform on, and are too far inside of our lines to be “Johnnies”’ (a term applied to the Southerners).