I grew up with some customs that I didn’t know much about, so I decided to do some research.
The first one is “dancing in a pig’s trough.” My husband, Harry, and I were married in my parents’, Herb and Mary Christman’s church, St. John’s Lutheran in Kutztown, in 1982. After the service, our immediate families enjoyed a wedding feast at my parents’ home.
Unknown to us, my brother, David, brought a pig’s trough to my parents’ home. There is a Pennsylvania Dutch tradition, that if a younger sibling gets married before an older sibling, once the older sibling marries, he or she has to dance in a pig’s trough. It is believed to be good luck for the younger siblings who aren’t supposed to marry before the older ones. Since my husband has two younger siblings married before him, he dutifully did a great jig in the pig’s trough that night.
Although it was a fun gesture on my brother’s part, the research states that the older unwed sibling is to dance in a pig’s trough at the younger siblings wedding to ensure good luck for the newlyweds.
I also found the idea of the older sibling marrying first, in the Old Testament, where Jacob served Laban seven years in order to marry his youngest daughter, Rachel. But, Laban deceived Jacob by sending the older daughter, Leah, to his bed. The next day, Laban explained, “It is not the custom here to give the younger daughter in marriage before the older.” (Genesis). Thus it was, for the love of Rachel, Jacob worked for another seven years for Laban, and then was given Rachel in marriage. It seems to have been a way to protect a woman and her children, ensuring a family a male provider and protector. This Levirite custom has been expected or practiced across many cultures.
There was a limited amount of information to “the hog trough dance,” which is said to have originated in Germany, and has been a custom in numerous rural areas in America. From here, I decided to go the route of the pig itself, and why it is important in Germany as a good luck symbol.
Around New Year, it became a tradition called “Glucksbringer” (a bringer of luck), to give a gift to others in the form of a charm, a Christmas ornament or a holiday treat like the marzipan pig. The most popular gift became a “Gluckschiweier” (lucky pig) which brought a person good luck for the coming year.
I found two sources for the pig to receive this lucky status. First, it may have come from an old card game where the ace was called “die Sau” (meaning a sow, a female pig). Later, “Schwein Laben” became a synonym for being lucky. Or, A common saying, “ich habe Schwein gehalt!” (meaning I’ve been lucky!) is believed to have come from farming communities. To own a pig during the Middle Ages was a sign of prosperity. German farmers considered themselves lucky to have a pig and be able to feed their family during the winter months.
Regardless of the reasons behind dancing in a pig’s trough, it was a fun custom to watch my husband dance in a pig’s trough on our wedding day.
As children, we had the most fun when someone new and gullible visited the farm, preferably city kids. We’d get them interested in hunting elbedritsch (many spellings for this term). We told them they were little furry creatures, similar to squirrels, and they only came out at night.
Once we had them hooked, we would tell them we caught some every week. “Wanna catch some?” Always they would agree. We’d continue our tale. “Most of the one’s we’ve caught hang around that hill, across the field. Follow us.”
At the bottom of the hill we would give the instructions. “Here’s a burlap bag to catch them in and a flashlight. They usually come when they see light. Hold the light facing the sky, or it could blind them.” Eager hands grabbed the burlap bags, and the bravest would say, “The flashlight is mine!”
Then we’d add, “We’re going to the other side of the hill to chase them towards you. Be quiet and listen for them and have the bag open and ready. You call ‘Coo. coo. coo’ (or any name we made up) as loud as you can. Once you catch one, we’ll go home and have something to eat.”
Off we’d go to the other side of the hill, careful no one heard us giggle. Then we’d head for the road, where the catchers couldn’t see us, laughing all the way home.
Mom always had hot cocoa and fresh baked zwieback toast, topped with sugar and cinnamon ready for us. Often times, it took one hour, or longer, for the catchers to realize they’d been had, and come home. I think the delicious cocoa and toast helped ease their frustration with us.
It is believed this prank came with the Palantinate (the Christman’s came from this area) area of Germany.
It is also called Elwetritsch, a bird-like mythical creature, resulting from cross-breeding. These mythical creatures can be found in sculptures, fountains and on hiking trails around Germany. Some clubs encourage the myth, such as Elwetrittche Club in Landau, founded in 1982.
This mythical creature hadn’t been remembered until a man named Espenschied recognized a good prank when he saw one. He started hunting parties to find this mythical bird. Apparently, it caught on.
I, myself, never experienced a bull band serenade, but my sister, Anita, recalls. “The day we moved to the Monterey farm, (the one Pop was finally able to purchase), I recall lots of excitement,” she said. “We moved what little furniture we had into the house, when all of a sudden, we heard a band outside. We ran to the window, and in front of the house, standing on the back of a pick-up truck, was Ed Marine (Pop’s relative) and his band playing for us. I think it was called a ‘bull band’ unless that’s only for weddings.”
In Pennsylvania, it was called the bull band or belling a newly married couple. It was the custom in rural America, during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, to serenade the couple with loud music on their wedding night. Although not newlyweds, in my parents’ case, I think Pop’s relative wanted to serenade the fact that Pop and Mom purchased their first farm.
There are a wide variety of names for this type of surprising, noisy revelry in the rural areas of the U.S., Canada and Europe, such as belling, horning, callithumpian, skimmelton, tinkettling, bull banding, Shivaree, rough music and Charivari.
Wikipedia claims the origin of the word “charivari” is likely to come from the Roman “caribaria,” meaning “headache,” or from the Greek “kerebaria”: keras (head) and barys (heavy), for the effect of the cacophony on the hapless couple or person.
This custom has been around since the Middle Ages, probably before that. The first recorded reference is from France, where it is called “chavivari,” a noisy, discordant mock serenade using pots, kettles, bells, horns and whatever could be found to make a noise, at the home of the newly married couple.
Eventually, throughout Europe, it became a way for a small community to demonstrate an unacceptable marriage. It could be anything from marrying too soon after a spouse died or someone marrying a person much younger, or it could be at the home of a wife beater or an unwed mother.
In America, it is mostly a noisy fun thing to do for newlyweds.
Carole Christman Koch grew up in Berks County and has been published in numerous publications. She has a passion for writing and has many stories from growing up on a farm to everyday stories.
