‘Footery’ in Newfoundland
Most people, observing the average Newfoundlander, especially back in the years when we were not so savvy as now, would agree that generally we were polite; self-effacing; even obsequious. But I had never realized how humble we could be until I read an item in a booklet published 80 years ago by P. K. Devine.
First of all, Patrick Kevin Devine was born at King’s Cove, Bonavista Bay, in 1859 and lived into his 91st. year. His education venues included Saint Francis Xavier College in Nova Scotia. Well-armed cerebrally, his career positions included journalist and editor, teacher and principal, Justice of the Peace and Clerk of the House of Assembly. He wrote books, booklets and handbills; he wrote poems, letters to the editor and God knows what else. I never met him and I have sampled very little of his oeuvre, but I like him immensely.
By the way, has anyone ever “done anything” on King’s Cove? That small place has produced some truly remarkable people.
Now back to my main point — the Newfoundlander’s humility. In the booklet referred to above (“Devine’s Folklore of Newfoundland in Old Words, Phrases and Expressions”) there is this amazing paragraph:
“A custom prevailed in Newfoundland amongst fishermen, labourers and men of trades, especially those paid by the day, to wipe the boots and shoes of those who visited the scene of their work for the first time. It was called ‘paying their footery,’ which usually meant standing drinks for the crowd. The writer first saw this ceremony performed on the visiting member for the district of Bonavista in the 1860s.”
Devine, at the time would have been a boy but that should not cast his memory in doubt because such an unusual act would more than likely impress itself upon an observant child. Author Devine continues: “The fishermen were working at mending the road at King’s Cove when Mr. Warren, who was then surveyor general in the government, was canvassing for the coming fall election. To his surprise one of the men came with a wisp of hay, knelt down as Warren stopped to admire their work and proceeded to wipe his boots, which were clean enough and did not need it.
“‘What’s this for?’ said Mr. Warren to the man accompanying him. ‘Oh’, was the reply, ‘they are doing honour to your first visit to the new road’”.
No explanation
Devine gives nothing more. Granted, he has done us a favour by recording what must have been an ancient custom brought here from (likely) the British Isles. But I would dearly like to have read something on the origins of this practice. It must have been relatively common at one time as it was given a name: “footery.”
Joseph R. Smallwood brought out his two-volume “The Book of Newfoundland” in 1937, the same year as Devine’s booklet was printed and distributed. And Devine had an essay on folklore in Smallwood’s Vol. 1. Sure enough, there’s a reference here to footery. Devine provides a smidgen of additional information:
Apparently visitors honoured by the cleaning of their boots were supposed to give kneeling men coins in return. And the “drinks for all” is slightly embellished: “if he were a Gentleman or a ‘well-off man’ he would give a donation sufficiently liberal to treat all hands to liquid refreshments.”
Devine adds that old-time candidates soliciting votes for election rarely escaped this ceremony.
Candle and loaf
I found another very curious folk-belief. I’d like to know more about the following:
“A lighted candle on a floating loaf of bread in a pond or sea will find the body of a drowned person.”
Devine brings in science to help explain it (to a point): “Science is able to come to the aid of superstition here; the floating light on the loaf slowed down when it came over the corpse.” Well, that doesn’t explain anything, it merely describes it. Frustrating. And I wonder how prevalent was the habit of fishermen at sea carrying blessed wax candles which, when lighted, were used “to make the sign of the cross on oncoming seas that threaten to overwhelm the vessel in a storm.”
I’d never come across that before.
I suppose there is some entertainment value in long lists of recitations, beliefs, warnings, symbols, signs and what have you. Some. Such booklets and essays were likely more popular 80 years ago before Newfoundland cookbooks got hold of
those long lists and used them as tiresome fillers between recipes.
What one realizes when reading this material is that people’s lives were guided (controlled?) by weird occurrences held to be truths. That is sad.
By the way, Devine also wrote that when October trees hold the summer leaves, you’d better provide double-thick clothes for the coming winter.
Looking outside now — it is Oct. 21 as I write this — comparatively few leaves have fallen; millions are still a healthy green. I’ll give the trees to the end of this week and then I’m going to check out the 2017-18 winter wardrobe.