The festival that honors Scotland’s chaotic—and rebellious—history

When I was six years old, I rode my trusty steed, a pure-white Shetland named Frosty Friday, across the “back forty” acres behind my family’s farm in Ontario, Canada. To me, I was patrolling my vast domain.

After years of competitive riding I had hung up my spurs. But in recent years, I’ve trotted back to my roots, horseback riding on volcanos in Iceland or the Andes in Argentina. I also began digging into my family history and realized riding was more than a lifelong passion; it’s part of my DNA, stretching back to Scotland’s fight for independence, when brave equestrians pushed off English invaders from their borderlands.

Except my family clan traces its roots to the Reivers, bands of plunderers who rode the borders during this era not for independence but for loot.

To glean more about this complicated history, I’m heading to Scotland, where I’ll saddle up again to join hundreds of mostly locals galloping across the undulating hills of the Scottish Borders in commemoration of this choatic chapter in Scottish history. These Common Ridings, as they are known, are among the world’s largest and oldest equestrian spectacles. They’re held annually from late spring to August in towns across this southern region, including Hawick (pronounced “hoyk”), Peebles, Lauder, Langholm, and Galashiels.

“It’s absolutely packed with people, lining both sides of the River Tweed,” says Yvonne Keddie, chairperson of The Braw Lads’ Gathering, named for a poem by Robert Burns, and held in Galashiels, a village of 10,000 residents located 33 miles southeast of Edinburg. “It’s majestic—hundreds of horses crossing this river known around the world.”

Each town has its own unique traditions and terms, but all Common Ridings culminate in a grand party that anyone can experience, whether they ride or not. Their origins, however, were much less welcoming.

History of the Scottish Borders’ Common Ridings

Common Ridings date to the late 13th century after The Wars of Scottish Independence, a series of conflicts between Scotland and England, set off by Edward I’s invasion to claim control of Scotland. For about three centuries after, locals patrolled their town boundaries to stave off English encroachment.

Violent skirmishes persisted across the Borders, the Battle of Flodden in September 1513 being the bloodiest. Thousands of Scots were massacred by King Henry VIII’s forces in just one day. Many of these common ridings today honor this battle in some way, but not all.

(For an unmatched view of Scotland, hike these iconic ‘coffin roads’)

“There’s an old saying: ‘they’re the same, but they’re different.’ We’ve all got the same history behind us, but every town celebrates a different part,” says Gordon Keddie, Yvonne Keddie’s father, a former Braw Lad (1972) and past president of the Braw Lads’ Gathering. “In Galashiels, we commemorate the Battle of the Raid Stane, in which some ‘Gala’ men overcame a band of English invaders near a wild sour plum tree in 1337. And that’s how the sour plum became the badge and emblem of our town.”

During this same era, violent raiders, called Reivers, set out aboard hardy Hobbler ponies under the cover of night across this Anglo-Scottish border. For some, what began as clashes defending Scottish independence soon morphed into murdering, cattle-stealing, and marauding—acts driven only by loyalty to one’s family clan. These infamous Reiver bands had surnames including Armstrong, Bell, Kerr, and Beatty—yes, my own ancestors.

(A small number of Scottish families own lost fragments of the Stone of Destiny—how?)

Reiver lawlessness reached a zenith in the 100 years leading up to James the VI of Scotland’s ascendence to the English throne in 1603, when he became James I of England. The new monarch was determined to end the chaos, and he did.

Conspiring with our own countrymen, he chased off the most offending clans to Ulster (Northern Ireland) and elsewhere. My ancestors were exiled to the area near Cootehill, Cavan County, Ulster, in 1609, the first year of the “Plantation of Ulster,” England’s organized colonization of this Irish province.

An annual celebration

In Victorian times, border towns began commemorating their experiences during these clashes with annual Common Riding festivals that grew into days and even weeks-long celebrations. More towns joined in ensuing decades.

Today, about 15 towns celebrate, each with their own historic name, traditions, and ceremonial leaders. The town of Hawick has the biggest and longest festival, with many fast-paced ride outs over five weeks.

(These Scottish islands celebrate midsummer like nowhere else. Here’s how to visit.)

The highlight is when the Cornet, Hawick’s chosen leader, with raised banner in hand, leads hundreds of riders back to the town square where thousands gather to sing “Teribus,” the war cry of Hawick men in the Battle of Flodden set to the aching strains of bagpipes.

In Galashiels, the elected Braw Lad and Lass lead a cavalcade of riders through town to the re-enactment of the Raid Stane, before crossing the River Tweed. The best viewing spots for this dramatic gathering includes the Galafoot Bridge, Gala Hill, and Scott Street, where thousands of cheering supporters gather for the stirring final charge.

Apart from these festivals, the region brims with sites referencing its tumultuous past. Just outside Branxton village, travelers can walk the somber battlefield next to the Flodden 1513 Ecomuseum, commemorating that defining battle. The 60-mile Border Reiver Trail winds through stunning rugged landscapes past such sites as the infamous Armstrong clan’s Glinockie Tower and Langholm Castle. About six miles from Kelso, Smailholm Tower, atop its dramatic windswept perch, exudes this embattled Borders history, as does the gruesome lore of foreboding Hermitage Castle, about five miles north of Newcastleton.

The Borderlands Museum in Hawick features a collection of privately owned artifacts from the Iron Age through the era of the Reivers. About two miles east of Galashiels is Abbotsford, the impressive home of renowned 19th-century novelist, Sir Walter Scott, who also descended from Reivers. For ancestry travelers, the Scottish Borders Archives and the Registration Service in Hawick provide a treasure trove of resources.

(Here’s how to visit Scotland like a local)

How to join a common riding

For experienced equestrians, one of the best ways to experience this history may be to join in the saddle.

“We have two sayings for these common ridings,” says Cathy Joyce, owner and expert guide of Eventful Riders. “Better felt that telt,” in other words, it’s better to experience these rides firsthand than to hear about them, and “Safe in, safe out,” which requires no explanation.

Joyce helps horsey types mount up for such outings, taking great care to match the horse to the rider (as she likes to say, “Some are more whoa than go.”) I fall into the former camp; even experienced riders can lose their nerve on some of the faster, more raucous ride outs, like those in Hawick. Herd instinct takes over with hundreds of horses galloping together over the Borders’ open rolling countryside—an important factor for considering my options.

(The best way to visit the Scottish Highlands? Through these sustainable experiences.)

I have my eye on Lauder, a burg of 2,000, 27 miles southeast of Edinburg, which closes out the season with a common riding on the first Saturday in August, after a week of duck races, fun rides, and brass-band-led parades. Lauder is one of the oldest, smallest, yet most social of all the festivals, Joyce says. But most Important to me, it’s a town where centuries ago, you’d likely have found my notorious Beatty clan riding the surrounding trails.

Also critical, “Lauder is not one of the fastest rides,” Joyce assures me, with one caveat—an optional massive hill descent, called the Stirk, near the end of the route. “The Stirk is very steep, and if you’re not in the first 50, 60 horses, you will be galloping down at such a slant!” Taking on the Stirk, I resolve, may be a game-day decision.

Whichever path I choose that day, the full-circle moment of it all hits deeply—an exile finally returning home, and as I’ve done all my life, mounting up to hit the open trail. Frosty, I imagine, would approve.

“These days, our common ridings attract visitors from around the world. And all are welcome. Absolutely everyone,” insists Gordon Keddie, adding with a chuckle, “Especially exiles!”