Custom occasional: The Chertsey Curfew Bell

Lady Day is the last day for the ringing of the curfew bell at Chertsey. Manning and Bray’s “The History and Antiquities of Surrey” (c.1811) records that this curfew was rung, at 8pm on weekdays but also on Sunday mornings at 8am on the largest (tenor) bell. However, although the practice of the 8am ringing of the tenor curfew was discontinued, the 8pm week-night ringing is now done by a bell from 1856 rather than the Abbey bell as established obviously to protect this well. The curfew is not now rung on Saturday nights.

Curfew bells were established across the country as has been discussed before, and some counties such as Kent had a number. Often a story about their establishment is told but in this case this appears lost and is replaced by the story of Blanche Heriot.

For whom the bell tolls

The story is based around the time of the War of the Roses, when in 1471, Yorkist King Edward IV retook the throne such that Blanche’s suitor, a Lancastrian Knight, Neville Audrey, having fought against Edward, had now become a traitor. Thus, he sought sanctuary in the Abbey. However, the authorities did not regard this as sanctuary and he was captured and sentenced to death. The execution was by the chiming of the following day’s first toll of the town’s curfew bell.

However, a reprieve was on offer. For the knight remembered that he had saved the life of a Yorkist nobler who grateful for the sparing of his life, that he gave him his signet ring stating he was a moral and honourable character. So, with the ring him hand he sent a rider to reach the king in search of a pardon.

The King did give him a pardon but the distance between London and Chertsey would be a challenge to get the message to the knight’s potential executioners. Legend tells that the rider was a mile away when Blanche decided to climb the abbey’s bell tower and jumped to grab the clapper. The bell was about to ring, but Blanche holding fast muted the sound by preventing it hitting the bell, until the rider appeared with the pardon. Which indeed happened and he was saved.

In 1840, Albert Smith published the story, and it became very popular West End melodrama. The story also inspired American writer Rose Hartwick Thorpe write ‘The Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight’ which was one of Queen Victoria’s favourite poems. Today one can continue to hear the curfews and see a monument erected to re-remember it.

Custom revived: Carlin Peas on Carlin sunday

“The tradition of cooking carlins is relatively unheard of today. But we still mark the occasion at Beamish, usually by cooking peas, seasoned with either salt and vinegar or sugar! See carlin pea displays at Pockerley Old Hall and The 1900s Pit Village.”

Beamish Museum website

The fifth Sunday in Lent and is known as Carlin Sunday due to its association with Carlin peas, one of the few surviving localised dishes perhaps in England – I had never heard of them until I had visited the north and read more in books on folk customs – but despite what Beamish says above is still enacted and the peas can be seen for sale in northern soups and elsewhere. In the North a saying; developed to help people remember what days were what being derived from the psalms and hymns and names of the Sundays in Lent:

“Tid, Mid, Miseray, Carlin, Palm, Pace-Egg Day”

Tid was the second Sunday when Ye Deum Laudamus was sung, Mid was third Sunday when the Mi Deus Hymn was sung, Miseray – the fourth Sunday, was when the Misere Mei Psalmwould be chanted and then Carlin, the fifth Sunday, Palm the sixth and final and Pace Egg was Easter Sunday. As the communities became separated from the Catholic doctrine it would seem only the last three would be remembered.

Give peas a chance!

So what are Carlin peas? They are dried maple peas or pigeon peas often fed to bord and used for fish bait, but somehow became a Lenten staple. The were usually soaked in salt water overnight on Friday, then on Saturday boiled in bacon fat enabling them to be eaten cold or hot on the Sunday, often being served  with a sprinkling of salt and pepper, vinegar or rum.

Two peas in a pod

So why the North only? Well, there are two origins said to why the peas were restricted to the North-east as related in Chris Lloyd in his excellent 2021 Northern Echo article “Why the North-East traditionally spends today eating dried pigeon peas.:

“This tradition may have started in 1327 when Robert the Bruce and his Scots were besieging Newcastle. The starving Novacastrians were saved on Palm Sunday when a shipload of dried peas – perhaps sailed by Captain Karlin – arrived from Norway. Fortified by the carlins, the defenders fought off the Scots who went and attacked Durham instead.

Or it may have started during the Civil War in 1644 when, from February 3 to October 27, another army of Scots besieged the Royalist forces in Newcastle. This time, Captain Karlin arrived with a boatload of peas from France to save the day”

Versions of this later story have the ship of peas wrecked or stranded at Southshields a fortnight before Easter Day, which was also in time of famine and the peas washed ashore and were eaten, the salt adding to the flavour, which is still recommended to eating it. And equally say the shop came from Canada. Despite being a North -eastern tradition it soon spread to Yorkshire and Lancashire – my first experience was at a Good Friday fair just south of Manchester..

In the 20th Century, the tradition began to die out, although it seems to have clung on in pubs. With all pubs now closed, perhaps the pandemic will kill off a North-East tradition that may be 700 years old and could have been started by Captain Karlin.

A correspondent of Notes & Queries (1st S. vol. iii. 449) tells us that on the north-east coast of England, where the custom of frying dry peas on this day is attended with much augury, some ascribe its origin to the loss of a ship freighted with peas on the coast of Northumberland. Carling is the foundation beam of a ship, or the beam on the keel.

So there is another explanation of the name. Yet another suggestion is made by Brand in his 1849 Popular. Antiquities:

“In the Roman Calendar, I find it observed on this day, that a dole is made of soft beans. I can hardly entertain a doubt but that our custom is derived from hence. It was usual among the Romanists to give away beans in the doles at funerals; it was also a rite in the funeral ceremonies of heathen Rome. Why we have substituted peas I know not, unless it was because they are a pulse somewhat fitter to be eaten at this season of the year.” Having observed from Erasmus that Plutarch held pulse (legumina) to be of the highest efficacy in invocation of the Manes, he adds: “Ridiculous and absurd as these superstitions may appear, it is quite certain that Carlings deduce their origin from thence.”

This explanation, however, is by no means regarded as satisfactory.

Pease offering

Chris Lloyd (2021) states:

“I remember when I lived in the Stokesley area, neighbours used to mention Carlin Sunday and it was something to do with eating peas on that day. I wondered if you would be able to find out more about it, please?”

He also states that they were commonly sold at fairgrounds and mobile food counters, being eaten with salt and vinegar as I had. Lloyd (2021) notes that:

“At fairgrounds, they were traditionally served in white porcelain mugs and eaten with a spoon. In more recent years, they have been served in thick white disposable cups”

And that in:

“ world famous Bury Market and in Preston, parched peas are sold ready-cooked and served in brown-paper bags or in plastic tubs.”

He also claims that:

“Consumption is limited to certain areas within the historical boundaries of  Lancashire, notably Oldham, Wigan, Bury, Rochdale, Prestob, Stalybridge, Leigh, Atherton, Tyldesley and Bolton.“

However it may have had a wider distribution. Thistleton-Dwyer’s 1836 Popular customs states:

“On this day, in the northern counties, and in Scotland, a custom obtains of eating Carlings, which are grey peas, steeped all night in water, and fried the next day with butter.”

It is indeed remembered in Ritson’s Scottish songs:

“There’ll be all the lads and lassies. Set down in the midst of the ha’, With sybows, and ryfarts, and carlings, That are bath sodden and raw.”

Whatever the truth despite a decline and apparent disappearance in the early 20^th century, carlin peas are now again sold in pubs and in food stores and carlin Sunday continues.

Custom demised: Whirlin’ cakes of Cambridgeshire

Culinary customs are unusual ones in that they can, being domestic in origin, survive unnoticed. The Whirling cakes made traditionally around Wisbech may be one. The earliest record being in the Gentleman’s Magasine in 1789 which reports

“In several villages in the vicinity of Wisbeach, in the Isle of Ely, the fifth Sunday in Lent has been, time immemorial, commemorated by the name of Whirlin Sunday, when cakes are made by almost every family, and are called, from the day, Whirlin Cakes.”

The legend behind it originates in the village of Leverington. Here an old woman made some cakes which were so enjoyed by one of her guests. Unfortunately, this guest was Satan in disguise and so keen was he with the cakes that he decided to carry both her and her cakes off in whirlwind – hence the name. A curious origin of a tradition. Fenland Notes and queries states from a correspondent that:

“Whirlwind Cakes at Leverington  — It is many years now since I was at Leverington , but I well remember that it used to be the custom at the feast then to make Whirlwind cakes. There was a curious Old folklore legend attached to this custom. It was to the effect that while a certain old lady of Leverington was one day making cakes for the purpose of entertaining her guests at the feast, the devil came to her, and creating a whirlwind carried her Off over the church steeple . In commemoration of this improbable event the custom had grown of making Whirlwind cakes. T . LAWRENCE, The Grove, Hammersmith”

The Cambridge Chronicle in 1865 reported:

 “The Sunday before Palm Sunday, in the Parish of Leverington, is called Whirling Sunday. We are not aware that the origin of it is anywhere recorded, or that in any other place there is a similar observance. It is very probable that the name is a corruption, and the tradition of its having originated in a whirlwind is too glaring an absurdity. The superstition attached to it, which, a few years since, had not entirely died away, was, that if you did not spend your penny in the purchase of whirling cake, you be unlucky the year through. Under cover of this excuse it became the scene of rioting and drunkenness. Of late years the disgraceful part of the observance has had scarcely any existence; but still great numbers, particularly from the town, walk down in the afternoon, with no other object than to walk back again. Some of the older inhabitants of the village invite their friends to tea, and treat them with hot whirling cakes, which, we believe, in their composition is nothing more than ordinary buns.”

In 1891 Frederick Carlyon, rector of Leverington, described it as “Whirling Sunday:

“None of the old people know anything of the origin of the Legend. But there are still many who recollect when there was a regular pleasure fair held in Leverington on Whirling Sunday, when a particular kind of whirling cake was made in most houses, and sports of all kinds, especially boxing matches, were carried on, and a regular holiday observed. There was no religious ceremony that I can hear of observed of on the day beyond the ordinary Church Services. Whirling cakes still continue to be made in one or two houses, but that and the memory of the day only remain. The Legend of the old woman being whirled over the church steeple is still repeated.”

It would seem that by the 20^th century the custom had demised probably with the disappearance of the fair…so much that no-one knew what the cakes looked like.

Custom survived: Snowdrop candlemas folklore

‘The snowdrop, in purest white arraie,

First rears her hedde on Candlemas daie.

While the Crocus hastens to the shrine
Of Primrose lone on St Valentine.’ 

Perennial Calendar and Companion to the Almanac (1824) Dr Thomas Forster

Nothing preludes the end of the cold winter months like the small white nodding heads of the snowdrop. Said to have been introduced to England by Italian monks in the 15^th century or as early as the Roman occupation.  it has forever more been associated with the celebration of Candlemas or Imbolc and thus called the ‘Fair Maid of February’, ‘Mary’s tapers’ their Latin name Galanthus nivalis translates as ‘Milkflower of the snow’ and in Welsh it is called ‘Eirlys’ the ‘Snow Lilly.’ The Scottish poet George Wilson in his poem ‘The Origin of the snowdrop’:

“And thus the snowdrop, like the bow
That spans the cloudy sky,
Becomes a symbol whence we know
That brighter days are nigh ;

Their blooming at Candlemas meant they were known as ‘Candlemas bells’.  One name Eve’s tear derives from a German folktale relating to Adam & Eve’s exile from the garden of Eden. Here they encounter the for the first time and here an Angel tells them that Eden is no longer and tearful they wander off. It is said that the Angel felt sorry for them and so taking snow into the hand and breathing upon it makes the first snowdrops and says

“Take these little flowers as a sign of hope. A sign for your kind and for the earth outside.”

Such begins the flowers tradition of being a harbinger of better days ahead. However, another piece of folklore associates them with doom and gloom. The association of snowdrops with graveyards meant they developed an association with death. It is thought that the Victorians actively planted snowdrops on graves. Vivian A Rich in their 1998), Cursing the Basil: And Other Folklore of the Garden  that it:

“was considered the epitome of good taste to edge the grave in blue scillars with snowdrops planted on the grave”

According to Roy Vickery’s 1984 Unlucky plants:

“it has been suggested that the association of snowdrops with death results from the flower’s resemblance to a shroud”

Rich continues to add that the resemblance to a shroud even meant just touching a snowdrop was bad luck; such that people will still never take snowdrops into houses or indeed hospitals. The Victorians believed that death will occur in the family within the year. As xx notes:

“Many cling to and practice this superstition still claiming resolutely that a plucked snowdrop brought upon their threshold was the reason they were widowed.”

Alternatively, Margaret Baker in her 2011 Discovering the Folklore of Plants that people in Herefordshire and Shropshire did bring them in for cleanse the house although did note that if brought in when hen’s were laying would stop them. Similarly, it was also said the snowdrops in the house would spoil eggs and turn milk sour.

Katherine Briggs in her 1974 Folklore of the Cotswolds states that an exception was made for Candlemas itself when snowdrops could be brought inside being blessed by the virgin that day.

Custom revived: Ash Wednesday Imposition of Ashes

Any attendee of an Ash Wednesdays can be easily spotted by the presence of a the remains of an ash cross upon their forehead. This is called the imposition of ashes and in the Anglican church is a revival of an old English tradition

The origin of the day originates in the 8^th century he celebration of the day as the beginning of Lent is not attested earlier than the 8th century.  The imposition of ashes seems to be an English innovation of the 10th century, it is believed to have been adapted from an earlier ritual for public penance in sackcloth and ashes which was thought to be unpopular. The earliest account appears from Aelfric of Eynesham around 1000 who states that the ashes were “strewn” on the head.

Ashes to ashes

What formed the ashes in those medieval times is unclear, but current Catholic instruction states the ashes should come from the previous year’s Palm Sunday service and sometimes mixed with oil and holy water. The current practice is to smudge the forehead with the sign of a cross which many Christians choose to remain visible as a sign of their faith for the rest of the day.

Dust to dust

It thus was common practice but the Reformation had a significant effect it. On the 6^th February 1548, a Royal Proclamation stated that it was forbidden and then in banned in 1549 prayer-book.   The revival of the custom came with the toleration of Catholicism and the re-introduction of the faith, who presumably had continued the practice overseas or in secret. It was the 19th century development of the Anglo-Catholic movement that started to import back into the Anglican ritual many Roman Catholic practices. Research suggests that the Ash Wednesday ritual was still being introduced into some cathedrals in the middle of the 20th century with a liturgy used taken from the Roman Catholics. As a service Ash Wednesday became more popular during the second half of the 20th century.  However, the imposition of ashes finally reappeared in the official Anglican liturgy in 1986. Guidance from the church of England website states:

“Ashes are imposed on the forehead of each person, including the leader. Members of a household may impose ashes on one another. At the imposition the person administering the ashes may say Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ. or the ashes may be imposed without the use of words.”

Custom demised: Shrovetide Football Derby

Shrove Tuesday in Derby was a hectic day for the city as Thistleton-Dwyer notes:

“Formerly the inhabitants of Derby had a foot-ball match between the parishes of All Saints and St. Peter’s; the conflicting parties being strengthened by volunteers from the other parishes, and from the surrounding country.”

Some significant culturally was the custom that the bells of the different churches in Derby would have rang their merry peals on the morning giving rise to a rhymn of the five parishes of All Saints’, St. Peter’s, St. Werburgh’s, St. Alkmund’s, and St. Michael’s:

“Pancakes and fritters, Say All Saints’ and St. Peter’s; When will the ball come, Say the bells of St. Alkmum; At two they will throw, Says Saint Werabo’;O! very well, Says little Michel.”

Like similar mob football company the goals were wide apart; the goal of All Saints’ was the water-wheel of the nun’s mill, and that of St. Peter’s, on the opposite side of the town, at the gallow’s balk, on the Normanton Road. The ball was also unique it was:

“of a very large size, was made of leather, and stuffed quite hard with shavings.”

It would be thrown in;

“about noon was thrown into the market-place, from the Town Hall, into the midst of an assembly of many thousand people, so closely wedged together, as scarcely to admit of locomotion. The moment the ball was thrown, the “war cries” of the rival parishes began, and thousands of arms were uplifted in the hope of catching it during its descent. The opposing parties endeavoured by every possible means, and by the exertion of their utmost strength, to carry the ball in the direction of their respective goals, and by this means the town was traversed and retraversed many times in the course of the day; indeed, to such an extent has the contest been carried, that some years ago the fortunate holder of the ball, having made his way into the river Derwent, was followed by the whole body, who took to the water in the most gallant style, and kept up the chase to near the village of Duffield, a distance of five miles, the whole course being against the rapid stream, and one or two weirs having to be passed; on another occasion, the possessor of the ball is said to have quietly dropped himself into the culvert or sewer which passes under the town, and to have been followed by several others of both parties, and, after fighting his way the whole distance under the town, to have come out victorious at the other side where, a considerable party having collected, the contest was renewed in the river.”

He continues that:

“On the conclusion of the day’s sport the man who had the honour of “goaling” the ball was the champion of the year; the bells of the victorious parish announced the conquest, and the victor was chaired through the town. So universal has been the feeling with regard to this game, that it is said a gentleman from Derby having met with a person in the backwoods of America, whom from his style and conversation he suspected to be from the Midland Counties of England, cried out when he saw him, “All Saints’ for ever;” to this the stranger instantly retorted, “Peter’s for ever;” and this satisfied them that they were fellow-townsmen.”

Sadly this would not be the case even though by 1846 it had become the biggest and most notorious football event in the UK and ‘that ran in the veins of every Derbeian’ Indeed the historian, William Hutton, states in his 1791 History of Derby that it was so popular the ‘the very infant learns to kick and then to walk’. 

The game was well supported and the fact that the locally influential, Joseph Strutt, would play dressed in a specially made buckskin suit, suggested its wide support.

However 1846 was a significant day for the custom when the army was called in to stop it. William Mousley, the city Mayor had been granted permission from the home secretary to it using the facility of two troops of dragoon guards.  

However, the players were not keen on following the ban and the ball was thrown up in the Morledge, it was Benjamin Fearn, one of Derby’s first policemen who was sent in to get it.  He is said to have dived into the throng of players emerging soon with the ball which was then cut to pieces. Yet the crowd were defiant, later the same day, another ball was thrown up; again the police and dragoons this time chased the players out into the countryside around Normanton. Fearn again gained the ball and although he had it for ten minutes so players from St Peters overpowered him and threw him over a hedge. Despite this 1846 marked the end of the custom and its long history.

Custom survived: The Bodmin Wassail

The Bodmin wassail is one of the few surviving house visiting wassails and has been on my to do list for some time. I did plan to attend in 2020, but as we all know Covid struck and despite plans to revive in 2021 and 2022 they were not full bodied revivals I believe and indeed one of these years it was cancelled last minute. 2023 was the year then to attend! So I organised myself to get down to Bodmin the day before so I could attend.

Always held on the 6^th or 5^th if the 6^th is a Sunday, the custom dates at least back to the will of one Nicholas Sprey, a three-time mayor of Bodmin who died in 1624. He bequeathed the sum of 13s 4d for an “annual wassail cup” aiming “the continuance of love and neighbourly meetings” and to “remember all others to carry a more charitable conscience”. It is possible that Sprey, a Town Clerk and once MP for Bodmin may have established the custom for he directed that the wassail cup should be taken to the mayor’s house each year on the 12th day of Christmas, raising funds as it passed through the town. This stipend was withdrawn in 1838 the stipend but as we know the custom continued which suggests it doubtlessly had an earlier origin.

I arrived at the old town hall, now a museum to see the wassailers assembling on the steps. They are without exception the best dressed of any wassails, being dressed as they describe on their website as:

“top hat and tails, smart outfits comprised of “gentlemen’s hand-me-downs” – clothes acquired from the local gentry and passed down from one wassailer to another over the decades.”

Assembled on the steps in their black morning suits and notable top hats, they certainly look like a scene from another era and as they processed around the town certainly looked even more distinctive. The group chatted to the curious onlooker as they assembled and it was interesting to hear how long some members had been in the group; and heartening to see their was a relative new recruit in their ranks.

The day begun at the offices of Bodmin Town Council and soon in a curious crocodile they made their way where they were greeted by the  mayor and local councillors. Here the wassail cup was removed from the case and dutifully filled with wine for the first wassail with the Mayor. The wassail bowl is an important part of the custom; the cup usually being made of wood and decorated with holly, laurel and later tinsel. In Bodmin, however, it was always made of pottery. The original bowl of course has long gone, it was made of pottery. Apparently, according to a Mr. Tom Green Snr, a wassailer for around 70 years finishing late 1980s, it disappeared following the outbreak of the Second World War. At that time it disappeared having last being seen on display on top of a plant pot in a shop in Honey Street in Bodmin. Thus the wassailers continued without a drinking vessel.

In 2008 a former mayor John Chapman donated a specially commissioned bowl, made by Lostwithiel potter John Webb. When not on wassail service it is displayed throughout the year in the Tourist Information Centre in Bodmin’s Shire Hall.  Of this Vic Legg, who has been part of the wassailing tradition for 33 years said:

“John has been a keen supporter of the tradition, as was his father and grandfather, and we are extremely grateful to him for this generous gift…We’ve carried on without a bowl since before the war, visiting houses, pubs and residential homes, but now we can fill it up with beer or cider and offer people a drink, the original intention when Nicholas Sprey bought the first wassailing cup all those years ago. Having the new bowl makes a tremendous difference as we can use it as the focal point of the wassail.”

The receptible for collection had become closer to the tradition method too, when 2014, a new leather purse was donated replacing the plastic ice cream tub. Apparently, it inspired by the lyrics from one wassail song:

 “We’ve got a little purse made of stretching leather skin. We want a little of your money, to bind it well within.”

They started as traditional with one of three of their traditional wassail songs:

“Chorus

For singing Wassail, Wassail, Wassail,

And Johnney come to our jolly Wassail.

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,

Pockets of money and a cellar of beer.

Chorus

If Master and Mistress be sitting at ease,

Put your hands in your pockets and give what you please.

Chorus

If Master and Mistress are both wide awake,

Please go to the cupboard and bring us some cake.

Chorus

Here comes a ship out in full sail,

Ploughs the wide ocean in many a gale.

Chorus

If you’ve got an apple I hope you’ve got 10,

To make some sweet cider ‘gainst we comes again.

Chorus

Come knock on the knocker and ring on the bell,

I hope you’ll reward us for singing Wassail.

Chorus”

The songs are the most important element of the wassail. Bodmin’s tradition has three, which is unique amongst wassail traditions – they usually have just one. Their website states:

“The first is sung on arrival before we enter the house or premises. The second was passed on to us by Mr Charlie Wilson, and is often sung during the eating, drinking, storytelling, fundraising and singing that goes on at each stop. The third is sung as we leave, thanking our hosts for their hospitality: “So now we must be gone to seek for more good cheer, where bounty will be shown, as we have found it here, in our Wassail.”

Of this first song the website notes:

“The verses are not always sung in this order, or indeed all of them sung at each stop. It is possible that in the chorus the word Johnney was originally ‘joy’, as in most wassails, but this is how Bodmin Wassail inherited the song.”

The old song is sung as they leave:

“Chorus
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail,
I am joy, come to our jolly Wassail.

This is our merry night,
For choosing King and Queen,
Then be it your delight,
That something may be seen,
In our Wassail.

Chorus

Is there any butler here?
Or dweller in this house,
I hope he’ll take a full carouse,
And enter to our bowl,
In our Wassail.

Chorus

We fellows are all poor,
Can’t buy no house nor land,
Unless we do gain,
In our Wassail.

Chorus

Our Wassail bowl to fill,
With apples and good spice,
Then grant us your good will,
To taste here, once or twice,
Of our Wassail.

Chorus

So now we must be gone,
To seek for more good cheer,
Where bounty will be shown,
As we have found it here,
In our Wassail

Chorus”

As the website states:

“The old song is sung as they leave, sometimes in its entirety, and sometimes just the last verse and chorus. It has been around and sung, in either complete or truncated form, since at least the late 19th century, according to the late Wassailer Tom Green, Snr. A printed copy of the song was carried around on Wassail night. This copy was believed to have been lost until it came into the possession of Vic Legg in the mid 1970s via his colleague Vic Barratt. His father, Vic Barratt, Snr, had been a Wassailer for a short period in the 1940s and passed it down to his son.”

After around an hour here, taking advantage of the fine spread of food, the wassailers disappeared into a taxi to start a rather gruelling especially in the rather dreadful weather tour of at first residential homes, then local businesses and finally public houses of the town. At each place they would announce themselves with a wassail song.

The weather continued to be grim when we caught they entering a pub along Bodmin high street, despite singing and no doubt indulging in hospitality the entire morning there was no sign of fatigue as they song heartly and were received rapturously by those in the pub. After chatting and laughing with regulars there was a nod around the wassailers who then broke into their out song, grabbed hats and umbrellas and went their way to the next pub. And so, it went on through the town. Their repertoire varied little except for some poetry and discussion of the history of the songs to the local folk group who were keen to hear. I left them at their last pub, less packed and with a slightly more bemused assemblage, before the entered the dark gloom to finish some private sings and then rest for another year!

Bodmin’s wassail tradition is one indeed to be proud of. There are other wassails in Cornwall and beyond but these tend to be revivals. This is the oldest recorded and continually attended custom, even the pandemic did not prevent some wassailing, that being a socially distanced one of the Mayor….and no one mentioned it was probably bending the rules then,…but in a way that underlines the love Bodmin has for the wassail.

​

Custom contrived: No Trouser Day on the London Underground

It was completely pouring down put that did not appear to put off the volunteers for what could be described as Britain’s weirdest custom as a large number of individuals had gathered at the appointed meeting point. A man with a loud hailer then called the people to order but as soon as he spoke another man with a loud hailer started saying ‘do not follow him he’s not the official person…if you go with him you won’t be insured.”

Insured? What was going to happen?

Despite the protestations, a sizeable group did depart with the rogue ‘no trouser’ person. The official organising tutting and disapprovingly saying ‘ I don’t know what he’s problem is…he came last year and decided to do it himself….he’s dangerous.”

Dangerous!? I did wonder why….was he the pied piper of pantlessness (as our US partners would say)?

Standing in the rain, the rules were explained to us and the need to wear underwear which covered the necessary bits, (although I did think this might be a bit late of a warning) and that we all had to enter the tube and in the first train remove one’s trousers and then from this point the aim was to travel to the Elizabeth line which had not been ridden trouser less before!

A load of pants

Beginning in 2002 in New York as No Pants Subway Ride by 2013 it had spread event to sixty cities. Organized by Improv Everywhere, it has slowly but surely becoming part of the rich tapestry, very British in its eccentricity and so beloved of the photographers and the press.

Down the steps, over the turnstiles and into our first carriage at which the organiser, keen to stress that we had to keep in sight of him….well we wouldn’t want to wander trouserless alone! He then said ‘right remove your trousers now’…easier said then done as it was short trip on the train. Then we were off, up and down escalators to the considerable dismay of the other users and smirks of many of the underground staff who probably had been prewarned! Although the juxtaposition between the top half, many were wearing thick coats and the lack of warmer clothing underneath made it even odder! Once we had entered the next train carriage we were encouraged to act normally such as reading a book, newspaper or searching on our phones and mingle with the troused..as the organiser said ‘there’s more impact if we split up’.

Pants to that!

I asked why people did it. One group of young city types – dressed in full smart suits and umbrellas, blamed one of their number saying ‘he always picks something to do unusual once a year for his birthday…this year this was it.’ Having said that they were not shy of the cameras, happy to pose in the usual watercooler moments for the photographers. A much older gentlemen said that it was a sort of response to a rather oppressive past relationship ‘she’d frown at this’ so that’s why I do it. Quite a few said this was a repeat appearance and that it had become some sort of strange addiction. There were also many oversea tourists who had seen it ‘on Facebook’ and one who just happened to be walking through China town asked what it was about and just went along with the flow! One dressed splendidly as Captain America (top only of course) clearly was keen on photo ops. However, the commonest response was ‘why not…it’s fun!’

Baring in all at Paddington

The group then arrived at Paddington where the well known other ‘bear’ (bare get it) statue was the source of some great poses from the press and a group photo facing and read ending was done for the patient press. And then a record was broken as the group entered the Elizabeth line. Although I laughed as a voice came over telling a photographer not to take photos ignoring the lack of clothing of the people. I soon left them and returned to normality.

On reflection the no trousers day on the tube is a rare sort of custom; completely pointless, unless raising a smile or shocking others is really the point, but one which brings together all ages, all backgrounds, all ethnicities, all genders and all sexualities.  A real camaraderie being developed. A welcome addition to the wacky subgenre of British customs in the ‘pointless fun’ category.

Custom demised: New Year Day gift giving

New Year’s Day is generally a day now of recovery from celebrating the night before. Some families may have a New Year’s day meal but for many years it was New Year’s day not Christmas that was the day for gift giving.

Fosbroke, in his Encyclopædia of Antiquities, notices the continuation of the Roman practice of interchanging gifts during the middle and later ages; a custom which prevailed especially amongst our kings, queens, and the nobility. According to Matthew Paris, Henry III., following the discreditable example of some of the Roman emperors, even extorted them from his subjects.

In Rymer’s Fœdera a list is given of the gifts received by Henry VI. between Christmas Day and February 4th, 1428, consisting of sums of 40s., 20s., 13s. 4d., 10s., 6s. 8d., and 3s. 4d.

In the reign of Henry VII. the reception of the New Year’s gifts presented by the king and queen to each other and by their household and courtiers, was reduced to a solemn formula.

Agnes Strickland, in her Lives of the Queens of England (1864), quotes the following extract from a MS. of Henry VII.’s Norroy herald, in possession of Peter Le Neve, Esq.:

“On the day of the New Year, when the king came to his foot-sheet, his usher of his chamber-door said to him, ‘Sire, here is a New Year’s gift coming from the queen;’ then the king replied, ‘Let it come in.’ Then the king’s usher let the queen’s messenger come within the yate” (meaning the gate of the railing which surrounded the royal bed, instances of which are familiar to the public in the state bedrooms at Hampton Court to this day, and it is probable that the scene was very similar), “Henry VII. sitting at the foot of the bed in his dressing-gown, the officers of his bed-chamber having turned the top sheet smoothly down to the foot of the bed when the royal personage rose. The queen, in like manner, sat at her foot-sheet, and received the king’s New Year’s gift within the gate of her bed-railing. When this formal exchange of presents had taken place between the king and his consort, they received, seated in the same manner, the New Year’s gifts of their nobles. ‘And,’ adds the herald, assuming the first person, ‘I shall report to the queen’s grace and them that be about her, what rewards are to be given to them that bring her grace New Year’s gifts, for I trow they are not so good as those of the king.’”

In the 4^th series of Notes and queries it is recorded that:

“there is in the possession of the Marquis of Bath, Longleat, a manuscript, which contains a list of moneys given to King Henry VIII. in the twenty-fourth year of his reign, as New Year’s gifts. They are from archbishops, bishops, noblemen, doctors, gentlemen, &c. The amount which the king’s grace complacently pocketed on this occasion was 792l. 10s. 10d.”

Honest old Latimer, however, says Hone in his 1836 Every Day Book states that instead of presenting Henry VIII. with a purse of gold, put into the king’s hand a New Testament, with a leaf conspicuously doubled down at Hebrews xiii. 4, which, on reference, will be found to have been worthy of all acceptation, though not, perhaps, well accepted.

A manuscript roll of the public revenue of the fifth year of Edward VI. has an entry of rewards given on New Year’s Day to the king, officers, and servants, amounting to 155l. 5s., and also of sums given to the servants of those who presented New Year’s gifts to the king.

Thistleton-Dwyer in his 1836 Popular customs states that:

“During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the custom of presenting New Year’s gifts to the sovereign was carried to an extravagant height. Indeed, Dr. Drake is of opinion that the wardrobe and jewelry of Queen Elizabeth were principally supported by these annual contributions on New Year’s Day. He cites lists of New Year’s gifts presented to her from the original rolls published in her “progresses” by Mr. Nichols; and from these it appears that the presents were made by the great officers of state, peers and peeresses, bishops, knights and their ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen, physicians and apothecaries, and others of lower grade, down to her Majesty’s dustman. The presents consisted of sums of money, costly articles of ornament for the queen’s person or apartments, caskets studded with precious stones, valuable necklaces, bracelets, gowns, embroidered mantles, smocks, petticoats, looking-glasses, fans, silk stockings, and a great variety of other articles. The largest sum given by any of the temporal lords was 20l.; but the Archbishop of Canterbury gave 40l., the Archbishop of York 30l., and the other spiritual lords, 20l. and 10l. Dr. Drake says, that although Elizabeth made returns to the New Year’s gifts, in plate and other articles, yet she nevertheless took sufficient care that the balance should be in her own favour.”

And that:

“In the reign of James I. the money gifts seem to have been continued for some time, but the ornamental articles presented seem to have been few and of small value. No rolls, nor, indeed, any notices of New Year’s gifts presented to Charles I. seem to have been preserved, though probably there were such. The custom, no doubt, ceased entirely during the Commonwealth, and was never afterwards revived, at least, to any extent worthy of notice. Mr. Nichols mentions that the last remains of the custom at court consisted in placing a crown-piece under the plate of each of the chaplains in waiting on New Year’s Day, and that this custom had ceased early in the nineteenth century.”

The New Year’s gifts, says Chambers in his Book of Days presented by individuals to each other were suited to sex, rank, situation, and circumstances. From Bishop Hall’s Satires (1598), it appears that the usual gift of tenantry in the country to their landlords was a capon; and Cowley, addressing the same class of society says:

“Ye used in the former days to fall Prostrate to your landlord in his hall,When with low legs, and in an humble guise,Ye offer’d up a capon sacrificeUnto his worship, at a New Year’s tide.”

Ben Jonson, in his Christmas Masque, among other characters introduces:

“New Year’s gift in a blue coat, serving-man like, with an orange, and a sprig of rosemary on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a collar of gingerbread, his torch-bearer carrying a marchpane, with a bottle of wine on either arm.”

An orange stuck with cloves was a common present, and is explained by Lupton, who says that the flavour of the wine is improved, and the wine itself preserved from mouldiness, by an orange or lemon stuck with cloves being hung within the vessel, so as not to touch the liquor.

Thistleton-Dwyer also adds that:

“When pins were first invented, and brought into use about the beginning of the sixteenth century, they were a New Year’s gift very acceptable to ladies, instead of the wooden skewers which they had hitherto used. Sometimes, however, in lieu of pins, they received a composition in money, called pin money, an expression which has been extended to a sum of money secured by a husband on his marriage for the private expenses of his wife.

Gloves, too, were customary New Year’s gifts. They were far more expensive than nowadays, and occasionally a sum of money was given instead, which was called glove money.”

Now no one gives gifts it seems on New Year’s Day least of all to the monarch

Custom survived: Laxton Court Day

After the rather tense discussion at the Jury Day there was a bit of a tense feeling in the village hall. Traditionally, the Court Leet meet in the Dovecote but during the Covid pandemic, social distancing led to the village hall being adopted and as such it has continued. It certainly led to it being easier to observe and photograph. As mentioned in the fine village journal The Open Field:

“Until last year the venue was The Dovecote, but the small rooms do not lend themselves to either the larger numbers attending in recent years or providing enough space for current health recommendations. Last year the move was made to the Village Hall, which looks like being the venue of choice from now on.”

The Jury sat among the audience ready to interject and facing them at the main table were the Court’s three officers, with some members of the estate and parish council sat on the sides. The three court officials were:

The Steward, who is a solicitor appointed by the Lord of the Manor. The current incumbent has filled this role of ensuring any legal requirements are undertaken, for 15 years.

The Bailiff, a local farmer who presented the Presentation paper from the previous week and would be the source of information of the cases

The Clerk to the Gaits & Commons, a local farmer, whose role combines the duties of Secretary and Treasurer. managing funds from various sources made available to the Open Fields and those who farm them.

Court in the act

Each of the three Open Fields has a Foreman who holds a permanent appointment. And the current incumbents are all are Laxton farmers descended from at least one previous generation who farmed here such is the tradition in the village.

The Court was opened by a welcome and the traditional proclamation. The Steward then called up the members of the Jury

Who then arm outstretched upon the bible, would be sworn in. At the end of each swearing each member would kiss the bible ceremonially. This is then the Jury sworn in the following year and the foreman who would oversee next years homage or jury day.

Then the Steward began to call the names on the Manor Suit Roll, these were list of people living within the manor boundaries all of which are eligible for the Jury and are obliged to attend. Understandably as this court was held on a Thursday in a working week many were not and so times have to change. However, if they were absent the bailiff called out ‘ absent’ and still a 2p essoign, a type of fine, was rather ceremoniously placed on the table. A one point the call was ‘very absent’ to which the Steward stopped and enquired what he meant by this and the bailiff said the person was dead. This called for a quick analysis of whether the Roll was up to date, after this it was decided that was anomaly and they continued.

See you in court

Once this happened the Court moved onto the details arising from last Court to see if they had been addressed; most had but there were still some overdue issues it seemed and then on the details of this year’s presentation paper. The discussion was the made up of the various transgressions which had been discussed in the pub the week before and the suggested fines; which in most cases the Steward agreed and in some cases, the bailiff would then delve into his book to see if there was any historical precedent for it – on one matter the Steward admitting that it was an unusual case and in this matter, the book and the knowledge of the Bailiff was invaluable. The issues were generally small matters, not keeping boundaries and sykes clear. Or in the words of the court  ‘ploughed too far’, which would be ploughing beyond the end of a strip into the adjoining roadway and therefore reducing the width of the roadway and potentially making access to the strips difficult, and ‘not shovelling in’, which means, in effect, not clearing up behind them when they have been ploughing Certainly they were less varied then those which can be read in the archives.  For example, the 4d ‘for not ringing her swine’, 3s 4d in 1661 ‘for scolding a disturbance to the neighbours’, and the 1s ‘for not suffering the water to have passage out of the Hall Lane through the Hall wood accordingly as hath been formerly’ also indicating how the powers have also changed no doubt in what was enforceable. Perhaps showing the power in the village that of 1681 Laxton tenants made allowed Augustine Hynde and his father before him to graze animals in ‘Rongsicke feilde’, not because he had a right to do, but ‘because he was an eminent man and we could not dispute it with him’. What again was interested in that there no real appeals from those fined until the contentious issue from the previous week was raised. This appeared to again get quite heated with members of the Jury interjecting their opinions and views. At one point it being argued that the issue was beyond the aspects of the Court. I shall not embarrass the individual involved but it was evident that this was still a court with power and where views were considered and discussed like in any court.

Settled out of court?

Indeed, Laxton’s Court Leet still has powers were other Court Leets have become simple pantomimes as such. When in 1977, the Administration of Justice Act these powers were at risk, the then Steward who was representative of Tallents Solicitors in Newark, prevented this and as such the village would be the only place to retain this.  I was not sure to be honest that the issue was fully resolved, it certainly lead to some anger and heated discussion. Once all the matters from the Court had been addressed again the Bailiff rose to their feet to give the final proclamation and the court closed. As this was also a good opportunity to discuss wider issues the meeting more to local matters which lay outside the limits of the court. Afterall, why miss the opportunity for a quorate meeting!

To be able to see one of the only remaining medieval Court leets in power was a real privilege and one hopes that this microcosm of ancient farming life continues and weathers the threats that modern agriculture has.