Swearing on the Horns at Highgate.
It’s a custom at Highgate, that all who go through,
Must be sworn on the horns, sir!—and so, sir, must you!
Bring the horns! shut the door!—now, sir, take off your hat!—
When you come here again, don’t forget to mind that!
*
“Have you been sworn at Highgate?” is a question frequently asked in every part of the kingdom; for, that such a custom exists in this village is known far and near, though many who inquire, and are asked, remain ignorant of the ceremony. As the practice is declining, diligence has been exercised to procure information on the spot, and from every probable source, concerning this remarkable usage.
The village of Highgate takes its name from the gate across the public road into London, opposite the chapel, which is sometimes erroneously called the church, for it is, in fact, only a chapel of ease to Hornsey church. This road runs through land belonging to the bishopric of London, and was made, by permission of the bishop in former times, probably when the whole of this spot, and the circumjacent country, was covered with wood, and part of the great forest of Middlesex, which, according to Matthew Paris, was infested by wolves, stags, boars, and other wild beasts, besides robbers. This gate, from being on the great northern eminence towards London, was called the high-gate; as the land became cleared of wood, houses arose near the spot, and hence the village now called Highgate. It seems probable, that the first dwelling erected here was the gate-house. The occupier of the inn of that name holds it under a lease from the bishop, under which lease he also farms the bishop’s toll. In the year 1769 the old gate-house, which extended over the road, was taken down, and the present common turnpike-gate put up. So much, then, concerning Highgate, as introductory to the custom about to be related.
“Swearing on the horns,” which now is “a custom more honour’d in the breach than in the observance,” prevailed at Highgate as a continual popular amusement and private annoyance. An old and respectable inhabitant of the village says, that sixty years ago upwards of eighty stages stopped every day at the Red Lion, and that out of every five passengers three were sworn. It is a jocular usage of the place, from beyond the memory of man, especially encouraged by certain of the villagers, to the private advantage of public landlords. On the drawing up of coaches at the inn-doors, particular invitations were given to the company to alight, and after as many as could be collected were got into a room for purposes of refreshment, the subject of being “sworn at Highgate” was introduced, and while a little artifice easily detected who had not taken the oath, some perhaps expressed a wish to submit to the ceremony. It often happened however, that before these facts could be ascertained “the horns” were brought in by the landlord, and as soon as they appeared, enough were usually present to enforce compliance. “The horns,” fixed on a pole of about five feet in height, were erected, by placing the pole upright on the ground, near the person to be sworn, who was required to take off his hat, and all present having done the same, the landlord then, in a loud voice, swore in the “party proponent.” What is called the oath is traditional, and varies verbally in a small degree. It has been taken down in writing from the lips of different persons who administer it, and after a careful collation of the different versions the following may be depended on as correct.—The landlord, or the person appointed by him to “swear in,” proclaims aloud—
“Upstanding and uncovered! Silence!” Then he addresses himself to the person he swears in, thus:—
“Take Notice what I now say unto you, for that is the first word of your oath—mind that! You must acknowledge me to be your adopted Father, I must acknowledge you to be my adopted son (or daughter.) If you do not call me father you forfeit a bottle of wine, if I do not call you son, I forfeit the same. And now, my good son, if you are travelling through this village of Highgate, and you have no money in your pocket, go call for a bottle of wine at any house you think proper to go into, and book it to your father’s score. If you have any friends with you, you may treat them as well, but if you have money of your own, you must pay for it yourself. For you must not say you have no money when you have, neither must you convey the money out of your own pocket into your friends’ pockets, for I shall search you as well as them, and if it is found that you or they have money, you forfeit a bottle of wine for trying to cozen and cheat your poor old ancient father. You must not eat brown bread while you can get white, except you like the brown the best; you must not drink small beer while you can get strong, except you like the small the best. You must not kiss the maid while you can kiss the mistress, except you like the maid the best, but sooner than lose a good chance you may kiss them both. And now, my good son, for a word or two of advice. Keep from all houses of ill repute, and every place of public resort for bad company. Beware of false friends, for they will turn to be your foes, and inveigle you into houses where you may lose your money and get no redress. Keep from thieves of every denomination. And now, my good son, I wish you a safe journey through Highgate and this life. I charge you, my good son, that if you know any in this company who have not taken this oath, you must cause them to take it, or make each of them forfeit a bottle of wine, for if you fail to do so you will forfeit a bottle of wine yourself. So now, my son, God bless you! Kiss the horns or a pretty girl if you see one here, which you like best, and so be free of Highgate!”
If a female be in the room she is usually saluted, if not, the horns must be kissed: the option was not allowed formerly. As soon as the salutation is over the swearer-in commands “silence!” and then addressing himself to his new-made “son,” he says, “I have now to acquaint you with your privilege as a freeman of this place. If at any time you are going through Highgate and want to rest yourself, and you see a pig lying in a ditch you have liberty to kick her out and take her place; but if you see three lying together you must only kick out the middle one and lie between the other two! God save the king!” This important privilege of the freemen of Highgate was first discovered by one Joyce a blacksmith, who a few years ago kept the Coach and Horses, and subjoined the agreeable information to those whom “he swore in.”