The stoor an reek aff the Clavie gars ilka ee in the lane greet. The heat wad hae scorched onybody that dared tae ging owre near it. Noo the Clavie Crew haud fowk back. The audience, whiles in their hunners, whiles their thoosans, jostle in an oot o the night’s pitch blackness and intae the bright yellae an reid light tae be near, but no owre near, the great heid-height burnin crown.

The Clavie is the flamin Archangel Tar half-barrel that gets cairtit roon Burgheid ilka auld new year, the 11th o Janurary. The Clavie Crew aere the sturdy locals wha cairt it aboon them on planks, keepin a steady pace as they mairch roon the wee clachan.

Their route taks them fae the auld Salmon bothies at the north sea strand, roon selectit streets, an on tae the Doorie Hill at the heid o the promontory fir the kerosene-soaked conclusion. It’s a remarkable procession, ane that seems tae belang tae ages o auld lang syne. But it’s the current wye that this Moray Coast community brings in the new year.

The Herald:

The Clavie burns. Photie: Jeff Mitchell, Getty

The hail jingbang o the Clavie, fae biggin it, lightin it an seein it burn, is the domain o the Clavie King. This position has been held fae 1988 bi Dan Ralph. This sturdy septuagenarian is aawye in the life o the toun. He is the stonemason, grave cairver, funeral director, joiner, ceilidh fiddler an café owner.

Mr Ralph has the lang, weel-trimmed beard an gleamin een ye’d expect fae a body cried a King. I speirt at Ralph aboot the modren traditions o the Clavie, an whaur it’d come fae afore that.

“The Clavie comes fae time immemorial,” Mr Ralph explains, “but it wis paused briefly durin the war due tae blackout restrictions.” It wis restairted bi Dan’s faither Jock Ralph an twa ither locals bi the name o James McDonald, kent locally as ‘Peep’ an ‘Lichtie’.

The Herald:

Dan Ralph, richt, wae a clavie afore the 2016 burnin. Photie: Peter Summers

The tradition is unnerstood tae belang tae Burgheid’s Pictish heritage. The Picts (often called Pechts in Scots) is the name gied tae the indigenous fowk that bade in maist o Eastern Scotland fae the time o the Romans, an wha wrocht the modren Scottish state through an alliance wi the Dalriada Scots in the 800s AD. The still-visible fifty fit high ramparts o the Pictish fort define ae end o Burgheid whaur it projects intae the sea, an declare the centrality o the toun tae their kingdom.

“We dinnae think the Picts had much o a navy,” says Mr Ralph, “but we think whit they did have they had up on the shores here.” He indicates the crescent of yellow sand that curls from the harbour right round to the Findhorn Foundation, some seven miles distant.

History has aye blashed across Burgheid wi the regularity an force o the waves aff the sea. The Picts were burnt oot o their fort by the invading Vikings. Then Patrick Seller, thon disliked craiter that enforced the worst o the Duke o Sutherland’s Highland Clearances, helped pey fir the biggin o modren Burgheid. The toun noo has grid patterned hooses, a project that dichtit awa much o the Pictish fort remnants. Fowk cleared fae the hielans were brought there tae lairn fishin.

These dunts havnae interrupted the identity o the place. As ye drive in, twa muckle modren stanes bear incised cairvins o the Burgheid Bull, the distinctive mark that the Pictish tribe left ahin on mony a stane in the area. Dan himself identifies as “aboot 80% Pictish”.

The Herald:

Burgheid pier. Photie: Malcolm Yates

The Clavie is first pit doon in record in 1655, but nae doubt it a guid bit aulder nor that. It contains a guid skelp o history. The Clavie Crew were aince the Salmon fishers o the toun, indicatit bi the use o Salmon posts tae cairt the Clavie. The barrel itsel is traditionally a Baltic Tar barrel, a mindin on the time whaur Burgheid an ither wee Scottish touns traded wi the Baltics, Sweden an Russia. The day, its mair aboot maintainin a legacy, biggin a communal spirit an, whiles, gien newcomers the fleg o their lives.

“A schoolteacher, who’d been instrumental in things local, had died,” Mr Ralph explained, “and the hoose wis sold on. The new occupants heard cheerin in the street…they opened the door, an a piece o burnin Clavie wis thrown right in the lobby! The incomers had a bit o a scare, they thought we were tryin tae burn them oot o the toun!”

The tradition is that certain hooses get a lucky charred piece o Clavie an pit it aboon their doors as a piece o guid luck fir the New Year. The incomers joined in the next again year “they came oot wi a shovel tae catch it”, Mr Ralph explained.

The Clavie predates the changin o the Calendar fae the Julian tae Gregorian, sae occurs aye on the 11th o January, whaur the New Year fell on the auld calendar. Dan Ralph reckons that ignoring a Pope is exactly the sort o thraan behaviour tae expect fae his toon.

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The Moray Coast was aince thrang wi sic barrel traditions, a repone tae the cauld nights an bad weather that’d hae fowk gaithert thegither leukin fir a wey tae let aff steam an see in the new year.

Shetland’s famous Up Helly Aa is a modren version o their auld celebrations, whaur ye’d see “trigger-happy drunks firing guns in the air - and dragging a blazing tar barrel through the streets, sometimes leaving it on the doorstep of the year's least popular worthy burgher.” Lesser kent is that oot in the weeer o the Shetland Islands, drunken louns wi firery barrels still celebrate the auld new year.

Embra launched a new fire-lit mairch fir Hogmanay this year. In ae-sense these newcomers are takkin pairt in a tradition that’s mibbie aulder than Scotland itsel, ane that’ll pley oot again in Burgheid on the 11th o this year, an fir mony mair years tae come.

The Herald:

This is the latest article by Alistair Heather published by The Herald in Scots. Click on his byline above to see more.