An artificial boundary, but with social meaning
Midnight on New Year’s Eve is now often marked as a communal event, whether it is crowds waiting for fireworks at midnight, or groups in pubs and homes sharing the time-boundary together. Or perhaps an individual, or a couple, will watch the clock hand moving inexorably towards the midnight of the last day of the year.
In one sense it is just one more tick of the clock; and there’s not even a tick when it’s a digital display! Despite this artificiality, it is undeniable that across centuries and continents, that boundary has been invested with ritual, hope, and celebration.
To understand how New Year traditions came into existence – especially in the British Isles – is to explore a complex historic tapestry that is woven from ancient rites, calendrical reforms, and a common human desire to mark the passage of time, while reviewing the past and looking into the future.
‘Celtic’ beginnings: Samhain and New Year in the ancient British Isles
We often call the people of the pre-Roman British Isles ‘Celts’ and their culture ‘Celtic.’ However, it should be noted that they did not use this term to describe themselves; Greek and Roman writers used it to describe different peoples; and the term in its modern form owes more to 19th-century national consciousness than ancient usage. Nevertheless, it is now a familiar term used to describe indigenous peoples of the British Isles and differentiates them from Germanic settlers who arrived after the end of the Roman Empire in the 5th century AD.
For the ‘Celtic’ peoples of Ireland (whose Iron Age culture survived into the early medieval period and the first written records), the most important seasonal threshold was Samhain, celebrated on the night of October 31st/November 1st. This time of the year featured in Irish stories of the deaths of legendary kings and contacts between Otherworld beings and people. By the 14th century it was thought that at Samhain there were (as well as human gatherings) the assemblies of fairy folk, who feasted on nuts at the great passage graves of Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth at the Bru na Bóinne (the Bend of the river Boyne). Similarly, in Wales there is evidence of a significant seasonal event occurring at this point of the year, with the day called Calan Gaeaf (Start of Winter) and the previous evening being termed Nos Calan Gaeaf (Eve of Winter).
This has led many modern students of folklore to assert that Samhain, rather than January 1, marked the Celtic New Year. If so, it signified the end of harvest and the start of winter: the darker, more dangerous half of the year. We may assume that this was largely also true of Iron Age Britain (before incorporation into the Roman Empire in the 1st century AD).
The idea outlined above would suggest that the Celtic year was essentially split in two: a light and a dark half. Samhain opened the dark season, and in that moment of transition, it was later thought (though lacking earlier medieval documentary evidence) that the boundaries between the human world and the spiritual world weakened. Consequently, protective actions were necessary: communal bonfires were lit, offerings were made, and protective rituals were performed. According to this understanding, it was a time of both vulnerability and possibility.
Though modern New Year on January 1 does not descend directly from Samhain, echoes of it may possibly be discerned in some modern traditions. There is still a focus on liminal moments: the stroke of midnight, the first person to cross a home’s threshold, the importance of cleansing fire, the giving of symbolic gifts, making resolutions for the future. These are remnants of a much older worldview that saw time as cyclical and the thresholds within it as sacred, with potential for blessing and harm. However, as with much in folklore, things may be more complex.
By the early medieval period, a concentration on New Year feasts (on January 1) appears in the Welsh literature (in contrast to the Irish documentary evidence from this period). The Welsh poem Y Gododdin (The Gododdin), dating from sometime between the 7th and the 10th century), refers to a Welsh warrior singing at this New Year feast. Similarly, the 9th- or 10th-century poem Etmich Dinbych (The Praise of Tenby) suggests that New Year was a significant time of male-bonding in the royal hall of a Welsh prince. It is also significant that the, probably 11th-century, Arthurian adventure Culhwch ac Olwen (Culhwch and Olwen) began at a mid-winter New Year feast. This suggests that modern claims that the Celtic New Year began at Samhain, on October 31, are not supported by the medieval Welsh evidence. It seems that, in Wales at least, a Roman imperial New Year tradition (probably encouraged by the Church) had helped replace a focus on Samhain as the hinge of the year.
A mid-winter/New Year custom of killing wrens and parading with their tiny corpses was found across the British Isles in the 19th century (but was particularly well-evidenced in Ireland, Wales, and the Isle of Man). This may have had its roots in a Celtic attribution of special powers to this tiniest of birds.
The Romans and the shift to January-ish!
The idea of beginning the year in January seems to have started with the Romans. They celebrated the Kalends of January in honour of Janus, who was the two-faced god of gates and beginnings. In Roman tradition, Janus looked simultaneously backward and forward. It is an image that echoes today, when people take stock of the past year and make resolutions for the future.
The Roman calendar in Britain came with the arrival of imperial rule after AD 43; we may therefore assume that this new calendrical system was then imposed but was probably just an official veneer on top of older practices that continued to shape agricultural communities.
Following the end of Roman rule after AD 410, there is plenty of (later) evidence which indicates that communities in the British Isles – especially in Wales, Ireland and Scotland – retained many of their older traditions. Consequently, the Roman New Year celebration did not completely supplant the Celtic one and we have no idea how widely it was followed. Instead, it became layered on top of local customs, which produced a complicated and regionally varied picture.
The Christian conversion of the British Isles that started under Roman rule and continued after its end meant that what emerged was a combination of ancient Roman and newer Christian calendrical procedures. In the Christian calendar, working back nine months from December 25 (a date decided by the Church as marking the birthday of Jesus) gave Lady Day (the Feast of the Annunciation), on March 25. This became the start of the medieval year (not on January 1). It wasn’t until the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in the 18th century that January 1 was standardized across the British Isles as New Year’s Day from 1752. Until then, the UK tax year started the day after Lady Day: on March 26. In 1758, the 11-day-shift which accompanied the calendar change of 1752 was applied to it as well and moved it to April 6. It has remained there ever since. That is why the UK tax tear still does not start on January 1!
These complications help explain why some Scottish customs, such as the famous Hogmanay celebrations, preserve elements that feel older or more elaborate than some of their English New Year equivalents. Scotland had accepted January 1 as New Year’s Day in 1600 and, consequently, older customs gathered round this date in the calendar well before this occurred in England.
Christian influences: the Feast of the Circumcision, bells, and watchnights
When Christianity spread through the British Isles, it absorbed many older customs while introducing new ones. The concept of the New Year itself was somewhat ambivalent in early Christian thought. The Church was more concerned with Easter and Christmas—religious feasts tied to salvation history—than with secular timekeeping. This is why many New Year activities feel pre-Christian or secular. Generally, that is what they are.
Despite this, the medieval Church marked January 1 as the Feast of the Circumcision of Christ, eight days after Christmas, and church bells rang to signal the turning of the year (as it had been marked in the Roman imperial calendar). Ringing of bells was thought to drive away evil spirits; which meant that the practice of ‘ringing out the old’ gained spiritual aspects.
In Scotland, Presbyterian traditions (after the 16th century) later gave rise to Watchnight services, in which congregations gathered on New Year’s Eve to pray, reflect, and enter the new year with spiritual focus. This provided an alternative to Christmas events, which were sidelined by developments north of the border in the 1560s and then again in the 1640s; this was not reversed until the 20th century and, by then, New Year had gained a lead when it came to communal events. Watchnights provided a sober version of marking the transition from the Old Year to the New. Methodists later took up this practice, after 1740, and were followed by some other Nonconformist groups. These services combined communal prayer, bell-ringing (for Anglicans), and vigil-keeping.
English wassailing, gift-giving, bell-ringing, and New-Year Resolutions
In England, many older customs persisted well into the 18th and 19th centuries. This was especially so in rural communities. Some have continued since then, or been revived.
A notable English custom was wassailing. This combined activities associated with both Christmas and New Year and – as with a number of New Year activities – reveals the continuation of pre-Christian traditions. The word itself comes from the Old English wes hál (be healthy) and was associated with activities thought to promote fertility and well-being. Two types of wassailing stand out: door-to-door wassailing, which was similar to Christian-themed carolling, but the participants wished households good health in exchange for alcohol; orchard wassailing, which was especially popular in the cider-producing regions of Somerset and Herefordshire, and in which villagers sang to apple trees, poured cider on their roots, and fired guns or banged pots to frighten away evil spirits.
The goal in the orchard activity was to ensure a good harvest in the coming year. While the orchard rites often occurred closer to Twelfth Night (January 5), they were reminiscent of New Year themes of renewal, fertility, and protection. The origin in pre-Christian nature rites (though removed from actual pagan beliefs among medieval and later Christian farming communities) is clear.
In some English regions, it was customary to give small coins or tokens at New Year, and these were sometimes called a ‘New Year’s gift’ or ‘handsel.’ The practice was once so widespread that 16th-century monarchs received costly New Year gifts from courtiers, and gave reciprocal presents to cement bonds of elite loyalty. It is estimated that in one year alone (1511) the young Henry VIII gave New Year gifts valued at £400,000 in modern money! Giving at New Year was more common than giving at Christmas until the Victorian era, although this had begun to shift towards Christmas during the 18th century.
Efforts to Christianise the New Year activities led to the practice of ‘ringing out’ the old year and ‘ringing in’ the new, using church bells. This represented a seasonal version of a medieval belief that these hallowed bells blessed those in earshot and warded off evil. Bellringing became so symbolic that it inspired the part of Tennyson’s poem ‘In Memoriam’ (1850) known as ‘Ring Out Wild Bells.’ The first two verses read:
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
While it seems clear that Mummers plays – traditionally celebrated in England around the Christmas and New Year period – do not have roots that go further back than the 17th century, one character designated as a devil and carrying a club and a pan bore a clear resemblance to both the figure of the Irish Daghda, chief god of the family of pagan Irish deities known as the Tuatha Dé Danann, and the earlier Romano-Gallic deity, Sucellus, who appears to have had connections with woodland and fertility. This may suggest a surviving folk-memory of this pagan deity, though a memory much changed over the years until it influenced the characterisation of this figure in the later plays.
The origins of New Year Resolutions may also lie in the 17th century (with possible 16th-century roots) since, by 1661, it was well enough established for Samuel Pepys to refer to it in his diary, without further explanation of the practice. Incidentally, he had broken his resolution (to abstain from attending theatrical performances and consumption of wine) within three weeks!
Scottish Hogmanay
Of all New Year traditions in the British Isles, Hogmanay (the origin of the word is disputed) is the most distinctive, famous, and richly layered. Its origins are much debated and may include elements from Norse (Viking) Yule celebrations, and older Gaelic traditions.
Post-Reformation Scottish communities placed more emphasis on New Year than on Christmas. Christmas was suppressed in the 1560s; revived under James VI and I; and was banned in 1640 (as it was south of the border). In 1660 Christmas revived in England and Wales with the Restoration of the king. However, its revival in Scotland took much longer. Legal pressure on celebrating it eased a little in the late 17th and early 18th centuries; it started to make a low-key comeback, largely via private events, from the 18th century; but Christmas Day only became a public holiday again in Scotland in 1958. As a result, and in contrast, the public celebrations of Hogmanay grew larger and more elaborate.
One of the most iconic customs of Hogmanay is ‘first-footing.’ This is the belief that the first person to cross the threshold after midnight brings luck for the coming year. Traditionally, a ‘tall, dark man’ was considered the best possible first-footer. The first-footer custom usually involves bringing symbolic gifts: coal for warmth; shortbread or black bun for food; whisky for good cheer.
Fire festivals also play a part in Hogmanay activities. The Stonehaven Fireball Ceremony is famous, in which participants swing blazing balls of fire through the street of this fishing town, south of Aberdeen. The earliest written account of the event dates from 1908, although police records mention fireballs in the 1850s and an oral tradition, recorded locally, suggests that the ceremony was taking place in the 1870s.
Winter fire festivals occur in other locations in Scotland – and more existed before their suppression in the 17th century – though not all are now focused on modern New Year. These include the unique Viking-themed Up Helly Aa in Lerwick, Shetland (in late January) and the ‘Burning of the Clavie’ in Burghead (on January 11, New Year according to the old Julian calendar). This event was first recorded in 1689, when it was referred to as an “old” and “heathen” custom. It involves a wooden barrel, filled with tar and staves (the ‘clavie’) being set ablaze, then mounted on a pole and carried through the streets. Glowing fragments of the ‘clavie’ are traditionally used to light the first fire of the year.
Up Helly Aa, in its present form – though sometimes described as an event carried out since the Viking Age – actually dates from 1870 (regarding its name) and 1881 in its present format – after the pulling of burning tar-barrels was banned in 1874. That practice is first recorded in the 1820s. The now-iconic Viking ship was not introduced until 1889. It is a reminder that ‘timeless’ and ‘ancient’ traditions are not always as ‘timeless’ or ‘ancient’ as they first appear, even if rooted in older customs.
A world-famous song sung at midnight across the English-speaking world originated in Scotland. The 18th-century poet Robert Burns collected and adapted Auld Lang Syne (literally ‘Old Long Since,’ meaning ‘For Old Time’s Sake’), and through the global Scottish diaspora and popular culture, it has become something of an international New Year’s Eve anthem.
Earlier Celtic rituals may have left echoes in traditions, recorded by folklorists on Shetland and elsewhere in Scotland, of burning juniper in houses and cattle pens around New Year. Burning torches were also sometimes carried through the fields. The association of juniper and fire with this time of mid-winter darkness may suggest a dual role of driving out evil and – in the case of the fire – celebrating the light.
Wales, the calennig and door-to-door activities
Welsh New Year traditions have their own distinct character. The word calennig, meaning ‘New Year’s gift,’ referred both to small tokens exchanged on New Year’s Day and to the practice of children going door-to-door with decorated apples or oranges stuck with twigs and cloves, in exchange for coins or sweets.
In some parts of Wales, the Mari Lwyd (Grey Mare) – a hobby-horse with a horse’s skull decorated with ribbons – makes visits to homes around New Year. The Mari and its attendants traditionally engage in pwnco, a ritualized exchange of rhymes and challenges with the householders, before being granted entry.
As in Scotland, first-footing traditionally involved a dark-haired man crossing the threshold at midnight, bringing coal, bread, salt, and a match for good fortune. Hen Galan (Old New Year) is still celebrated on January 13 in the Gwaun Valley, Pembrokeshire, with door-to-door singing and community events. Noson Gyflaith (Toffee Night) was a North Wales tradition, in which families boiled sugar and butter, then pulled the warm toffee into strands as a communal activity at Christmas or New Year’s Eve. The Nos Galan Road Race is held in the Cynon Valley on New Year’s Eve. It was first run in 1958 and – while now a famous New Year Event in South Wales – is not of great antiquity.
The antiquity of a number of these events is debated by historians and folklorists. Many, no doubt, mix ancient practices with later community activities and a number have experienced a surge of interest in modern times being geared to continuing, or reviving, traditional activities.
Irish ‘protective’ acts, hospitality, and fortune-telling
New Year customs in Ireland have traditionally mixed medieval Christian rituals with pre-Christian folk beliefs.
One old Irish custom involved banging a loaf of bread against the doors of the house to chase away evil spirits and ensure plenty of food in the coming year. As with a number of New Year rituals, it involved efforts that were hoped to bring protection and prosperity, as people looked into an unknown future.
Like Scotland’s first-footing, Irish traditions also stressed the importance of the first person to enter the house after midnight. The qualities associated with this first visitor – hopefully kindness and moral virtue – were believed to influence the character of the coming year.
New Year was also a traditional time for fortune-telling, especially concerning love, marriage, and luck. Girls might place sprigs of mistletoe or ivy under their pillows to dream of a future partner. In some parts of Ireland, women set a place at the table for deceased loved ones, inviting their spirits to visit. Once again, the presence of pre-Christian rites can be seen in a society that considered itself Christian.
At the stroke of midnight …
Since 1752, the year has started in the UK on January 1. But that 18th-century decision reinforced a tradition that was already much older. When people on New Year’s Eve today – often in community – reflect on the Old Year and ponder the unknown of the New, they continue a tradition that is, in one form or another, very old indeed.
However, it is undeniable that many of the traditions associated with New Year have little to do with Christian faith or have the thinnest of ‘Christian veneers.’ Most are vestiges of pre-Christian beliefs. Arguably, New Year stands out in this more than any other seasonal event. This is because, while the biblical calendar has a number of starting points for different purposes – primarily linked to agricultural cycles and religious festivals (most notably the first month of the Jewish religious calendar Nisan, the month in which Passover occurs, and the reflective events of Rosh Hashanah in the autumn) – January 1 does not play a part in this. And there is nothing in the New Testament to provide support for this either. As a result, that mid-winter marking of New Year draws on beliefs and activities found in non-biblical traditions. And a number of these conflict with Christian faith and practice (even though many have been adopted by Christian societies over the centuries).
Nevertheless, the themes of reviewing, reflecting and resolving, are ones with which Christians can engage. And this is also the case regarding consciously committing the future to the loving grace of God. As a result, there is a strong biblical message that Christians should bring to the New Year Party: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever” Hebrews 13:8 (NRSVA).
Martyn Whittock is a historian and a Licensed Lay Minister in the Church of England. The author, or co-author, of fifty-eight books, his work covers a wide range of historical and theological themes. In addition, as a commentator and columnist, he has written for several print and online news platforms and is frequently interviewed on TV and radio news and discussion programmes exploring the interaction of faith and politics. He has a particular interest in the ‘deep stories,’ with which we frame the present by reference to the past. Recent books that explore such ‘deep stories’ include: American Vikings. How the Norse Sailed into the Lands and Imaginations of America (2023) and Vikings in the East. From Vladimir the Great to Vladimir Putin - The Origin of a Contested Legacy in Russia and Ukraine (2025).
