28/08/2026
https://www.facebook.com/share/1983R7zZMd/?mibextid=wwXIfr
The night before a Highland wedding, the women of the township came for the bride's feet. 🕯️
It was called the feet washing, nighe nan cas, and it happened right across the Highlands and Islands and up into Orkney and Shetland. On the eve of the wedding the women arrived at the bride's house with a wooden tub and water warmed on the fire, and she was sat down on a low creepie stool and her feet were washed for her by the married women of the place.
There was nothing solemn about it. The accounts are full of laughing. Somebody would drop a ring into the tub and the unmarried girls would go scrabbling through the water after it, because whoever found it was said to be the next one wed. In some districts the bride's future mother in law did the washing herself, which was its own kind of statement, and in others the older women took the chance to say a great many things to the bride that they would never have said in front of the men.
The young men had their own version, and it was considerably rougher. Soot, grease, whatever came to hand, and a lad marched round the township in a state. In the Lowlands that end of it grew into a custom people still recognise today. 🏴
But it is the women's half I find myself thinking about. Strip away the fun and look at what is actually happening in that room. A young woman is about to leave one household and enter another, and before she goes, every woman in the place puts her hands into the same water and touches her. Nobody ever had to explain what it meant. She was theirs, they were sending her, and they were sending her clean.
We have lost most of these. They went quietly, in a single generation, when people moved to the towns and weddings moved to hotels.
But somebody in your line sat on a low stool by a peat fire with her feet in a tub, surrounded by laughing women, on the last night she was a girl in her mother's house.