Chiel o’ the Clachan – An Extract

The Aberlady Race

The two principal and only general holidays in the year to the working folk of Aberlady, are the Carter’s Play - the Fair - or as it is generally termed here, the Race, and Old Hansel Monday. The latter I must pass over just now, but will say something of it hereafter, and meanwhile try to describe, as shortly as possible, some of the incidents relative to the former in bygone days. When the Race originated I cannot say; but ever since I was brought to light it has been held on the last Tuesday of June. It used to be looked forward to with a good deal of interest by almost each inhabitant of the parish; and when I say that you may have an inkling that to us youngsters it really was a bright golden speck in the background of futurity. Long, long, (at least it seemed very long to us), before the time we gathered all our bawbees together and tentily kept them in our “penny-pigs”, so that we could spend a few pennies on fancy articles that were not to be had in Aberlady, either for love or silks, except on the Race day. The nearer that extraordinary day approached the greater grew our expectations, till, at length, the night preceding it, when the school closed our ecstasy knew no limit. And when we went, or, rather, were sent, to our beds, the big thoughts of the morrow in our young minds kept “Willie Winkie” at defiance for a long time; and always as we tossed and turned the rhyme would force itself upon us: - “The morn's the fair, and I’ll be there, etc.,” until, at long and last, we fell asleep to dream of gingerbread and candy, and the sound of penny trumps.

When we got up next morning, and with fluttering hearts went over the door, we could see that the Wynd had assumed a very busy appearance, with the throng of the Edinburgh folk, who had travelled all night with their vans and arrived at our clachan at an early hour, erecting their stands in a row down the west side of the street. It was about nine o’clock in the morning, if I mind rightly, that at the house of a certain lady - old lady I was go to say, but that would be sacrilege – each laddie and lassie in the parish who went there were presented with tuppence, given by the thoughtful and generous Miss Hope of Luffness, through the agency of the above-mentioned lady, who handed it to the bairns with as much pride, consequence, condescension, grace and satisfaction, as if she was the munificent donor. Shortly after this a good number of young ploughmen, etc., mostly from the neighbouring farms of Craigielaw and Aberlady Mains, congregated in the village with their horses most extravagently dressed up with diverse coloured braids, ribbons, mirrors, and such like showy articles, from their noses to the tips of the tail, - and they themselves with a sash over their broad shoulders. The head one among them was called “My Lord”, and he bore a banner on the end of a pole bearing the well-known motto, “God Speed the Plough;” – which flag, by the way, was displayed on the village green last year where the games were held. Of course, to us youngsters this assemblage of men and horses was of the greatest interest, as we verily thought it about the finest sight imaginable.

The Penston brass band, always procured for the occasion, having arrived, took the lead through the village, with the prancing horses in its wake, together with a large concourse of laddies and lassies, and a few older folk to boot. They made a short tour through the surrounding district, visiting Craigielaw, Gosford, Harelaw etc., where at each place they made a short stay and danced to the spirited music of the band. When we returned from our trip with the band and horses, the stands, from the corner at the top of the Wynd to the bottom had now been completely erected, the white canvas coverings of which were glaring in the heat of the summer sun, and the braw things for sale were temptingly laid out on the tables. With what unbounded rapture we beheld that scene, and with what feelings I now see it in my memory, are far beyond my power of description.

The stands were of various sizes and of various kinds; here was one with gingerbread, here one with candy, here one where we shot for nuts, here one with toys, etc., the owner of which was bawling out “Cheap John! Cheap John! All a penny, all a penny!” Here one with sherbet, etc., etc. Now then was our time to spend our pennies, an’ far over soon they slipped out our fingers as we patronised the different stands, those with the gingerbread and candy probably the most, and over often too, as was proven in some cases by a sickness or headache next day. Nor must I forget to mention, among other notables, old Geordie Borthwick with his famous “Roly Poly”. I still think I see the good-natured old worthy, not that ‘fu’’ but just with a good drop in his eye. He is now dead a good while since, I believe.

By this time, I’ll warrant, the clachan was ringing with the sound of penny whistles and other cheap little instruments, the echo of which still seems to linger in my ears. In the afternoon, about four o’clock, the band of the Aberlady Rifle Volunteers marched through the street, playing some music that was deservedly appreciated, to the village green where the games had now to take place. These athletic sports generally went off very satisfactorily, before a large gathering of spectators, who enjoyed the scene, which was kept lively and interesting by the unflagging zeal of the managers. The Games over, the band returned up the village to the Drill Hall where the prizes were distributed, while we took our last bawbees to the stands where they were soon exchanged for other things. To finish up the day's proceedings a ball was always got up in the said Hall, where “My Lord” and his “Lady” lead off the dances, which wound up at about five o’clock in the morning.

These few years past, Aberlady has never assumed the same stir on the Race day as in the years I have described; many of the old customs having died out. And although the events and prizes in the programme of Games (the chief attraction of the day) are still much the same, and are generally well contested, there is a perceptible want of energy in the proceedings, which augurs that even the Games may not see many more years. It is with the deepest regret I observe, and with greatest reluctance I admit, the sad truth that so many of the youths of my native village nowadays are more likely to spend their time and silver in the public houses, than in keeping up any manly sport, or any beneficial association.