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![]() Lets look at some thing which relates to Hogmanay in some people's lives. BEWARE THE HAIR OF THE DOG! The town of Gap in the French Alps, fringed by snow-covered peaks, was where I first encountered St Bernard dogs in their natural surroundings. Attracted to an iron gate in a back street by a frantic scraping and scrabbling, I peered over to see three or four puppies trying to dig their way out under the gate, watched by their mum who lay languidly observing the escape bid from a nearby verandah. I remember being ever so slightly disappointed that the adult dog had discarded her traditional brandy barrel from around her neck. Mind you, it's been a good number of years since people thought that a wee dram was just the job when you were stuck up to yer oxters in a snowdrift. It must have seemed logical to get some firewater into a frozen body, but as we now know, it's completely the wrong procedure. Over the centuries whisky has achieved a remarkable reputation for its restorative powers and, presumably, it was from purely medicinal motives that St Patrick brought the secret of distillation from Germany to Ireland. Whisky may have been in production on a small scale in Kintyre from as early as the fifth century. By the late 15OOs aqua vitae, usquebaugh, or the water of life, was widely acclaimed for its health-giving properties. Historian Raphael Holinshed certainly must have enjoyed a glass and may even have been in the middle of a wee session in 1577 when he penned this marvellous piece of PR for the Scotch whisky industry. He suggested, 'Beying moderately taken, it cureth fleume, it lighteneth the mynd, it quickeneth the spirit, it cureth the hydropsie, it healeth the stranguary, it pounceth the stone, it repelleth gravel, it puffeth away ventositie, it keepeth the head from whirlying....' Not so many years ago, a distinguished Professor of Surgery in London told the British Medical Association that, in his opinion, 'the best drug for the relief of pain is alcohol, and I don't mean anything pharmaceutical, but whisky.' But back to the more sinister properties of the spirit when taken in defence of severe cold. Alcohol thins the blood and combined with hypothermia, that malign, beguiling companion who stalks the chill places of this earth whispering seductively, 'You'll be fine - just close your eyes and have 40 winks,' they make a deadly duo. We have tragic evidence of this effect during the bitterly cold winter of 1601-02 when the deep freeze lasted a full six months. In the early part of the New Year there was a ten-day snowfall. The Earl of Sutherland was travelling with his party from Golspie through the glen of Loth, ploughing through deep snow when a fresh storm burst upon them, driving thick snow full in their faces. Reports of the incident say, 'Some of the company being thirsty, drank aqua vitae, which by chance happened to be there. This made them afterwards so feeble that they were not able to endure against the storm.' The Earl and the bulk of his party stuck together and made it to safety but some of the drinkers dispersed by the storm, including the Earl's harper, were found frozen to death in the morning. Several of the whisky drinkers were thought to have been saved by being carried home on the shoulders of their comrades. So, if you're out this week, enjoying a whisky to celebrate the arrival of another New Year and there's snow around, don't be tempted to tie your carry out around the doggie's neck for sampling en route. Just let him lead you home. Come to think of it, if you're lucky enough to have a St Bernard you could always put a saddle on him... What are some of the events that occurred in January.
1559 - Jan 1
1931 - Jan. 15
1852 - Jan. 29
1761 - Jan. 31
1564 - Jan. 20 Source - Scotching the Myths by Jim Hewiston can be found in the History Book Section of Scottish Radiance.
It is time to stop combing the library but we can not quit without some quotes from Quotable Scots another great History bookshelf resident. Lets see what quotes we can find to help with the new year CHOICES
Sixty's not so old is it? I put it in the same bracket as when your hair goes. Then you have only a couple of choices. When it's your age, you have no choice.
If people have to choose between freedom and sandwiches, they will take sandwiches.
Most things in excess are bad for us, including this current surfeit of food fascists, born-again nonsmokers, and po-faced teetotallers. I would rather tread the primrose path with Rab C. Nesbitt, glass in my hand and cigarette too.
We may be in some degree whatever we choose.
I considered that my native country afforded few opportunities of exercising my profession to any extent. I therefore judged it advisable (like many of my countrymen) to proceed southward, where industry might find more employment, and be better remunerated.
I'd rather lick stamps for a living than play for
Hibs. You can find more articles in the archive under Scottish Flotsam.
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