Category Archives: Buckinghamshire

Custom contrived: The Santa Fun Run

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Christmas appears to be celebrated earlier and earlier each year many claim but one colourful reminder that its time to sort the presents is the Santa fun run or dash – a bizarre blur of red and white, bearded and non bearded Santa impersonating runners. Often run by the local branch of the rotary club they are found up and down the country from Bedfordshire to Yorkshire.
Santa Fun run start from late November to to late December – the earliest being Skipton on the last weekend of November and last on Christmas Eve which must be pretty confusing to any children awaiting the real Father Christmas that day!

Naughty or nice? 

The oldest running one – not literally of course – claims to be Lincoln’s being 18 years old in 2023. Not only that as Doug Scott organiser of the event states the location and effort required it pretty unique:
“Of course there are lots of Santa Fun Runs and dashes around the country but what makes this one – I think – quite special is the backdrop. So you’re starting in Castle Square and going through historic uphill Lincoln with a sea of red flowing through the beautiful Lincoln so it does make it a bit special.


No sleigh for Santa

It is certainly a popular one:

“Even last year, it was very successful – it was very cold, in fact – for the first time we almost had to cancel, because it was ice with rain on the forecast, so we had about 1,200 runners last year, as of today, we’re expecting to have around 1,600 or 1,700 this year, with about 1,000 spectators to be cheering them on.”

Most other Santa Fun runs appeared in the 00s such as nearby Stamford’s in 2008 in the delightful Burghley Hall, Glasgow’s in 2008, Battersea Park in 2006, Marlow’s in 2004. However, deeper research reveals that the oldest and the original was Newton’s in 2001 as reported by Gavin Grosvenor in the Powys County Times – The December day when the streets of Newtown turned red with 4,000 Santas:

“However it is important to remember the first ever Santa Run was held in Newtown in 2001 and held three world records by 2004.
A record 4,260 runners donned the famous red suit and hat and white beard to run around the streets of Newtown – a year after the largest charity Santa Run and Aerobic Santa events were recorded in the town.
While imitation is flattering, the fact so many other towns across the UK staged their own events in the years which followed saw the original event in Newtown suffer.”

Sadly the Newton event has lapsed as the article continues:

“The once annual event was organised by Newtown and District Dial-a-Ride, a community charity providing transport for the elderly and people with disabilities.
Half of the proceeds from the run go to Dial-a-Ride and the other half to a charity of each competing Santa’s choice.
The event raised at least £150,000 for charity during 10 successful years but its decline in runners culminated in just 200 runners taking on the course for the final edition in 2011- bringing to an end a brief but glorious period in the town’s history.”

Whilst this event lapsed others have thrived. Some even did virtual runs during the Covid pandemic. What is strange is how many would not enter a race but the fact it has an association with Santa and involves dressing up appears to attract athletes and non-athletes alike, young and old. As a modern custom and one that raises a considerably amount of charity money it is in no fear of disappearing and a cursory look on the internet will find many opportunities and indeed from November to Christmas you can attend one or maybe even two a week!

Custom demised: Fig Sunday

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Palm Sunday known locally as Fig Sunday was a minor hamlet festival. Sprays of soft gold and silver willow catkins called ‘palm’ in that part of the country, were brought indoors to decorate the houses and worn as buttonholes for churchgoing. The children of the house loved fetching in the palm …..better still they loved the old custom of eating figs on Palm Sunday. Some of the more expert cooks among the women would use these to make fig puddings for dinner.’

Flora Thompson Lark Rise to Candleford

Fig Sunday was an alternative name for Palm Sunday and it appears to have been observed as a custom across the country. It is noted that at one point it was observed in Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, Dorset, Wiltshire, Northampton and North Wales. In Hertfordshire it is recorded in the village of Kempton:

“It has long been the custom for the people to eat figs – keep warsel! – and make merry with their friends on Palm Sunday. More figs are sold in the shops on the few days previous to the festival than in all the year beside.”

In Buckinghamshire it is noted that:

“At Edlesborough, Buckinghamshire, the children procure figs and nearly every house has a fig- pudding.”

In Dunstable, Bedfordshire:

“For some days beforehand the shop windows of the neighbouring town are full of figs and on Palm Sunday crowds go to the top of Dunstable Downs, one of the highest points of the neighbourhood, and eat figs.”  

In the 1912 Byways in British Archaeology by Walter Johnson he observes that a:

 “Ceremony was carried out on Palm Sunday by the villagers of Avebury, Wiltshire, who mounted the famous Silbury Hill, there to eat fig cakes and drink sugar and water. The water was procured from the spring below, known as the Swallow Head.”

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The author observes that real figs were often replaced by raisins as they were in the west of England and Wessex.

Why figs?

“when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves; for the time of figs was not yet.”

The Gospel of St Mark

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Palm Sunday is so called from the custom of eating figs on that day but why them? The main claim is that on Christ’s entrance to city on Palm Sunday he cursed a fig tree for not having any fruit, a barren tree, being hungry he then cursed it. Another claim is that the practice arose from the Bible story of Zaccheus, who climbed up into a fig-tree to see Jesus.

Sadly although a few food bloggers might promote fig pudding making on the day, Fig Sunday as a community custom has long ceased.

Custom contrived: Thinking Day

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Thinking Day Fort Sheridan Girl Scouts Cumbria copyright Lake Country Discovery Museum

Thinking Day Fort Sheridan Girl Scouts Cumbria copyright Lake Country Discovery Museum

“Far greater than the financial success, however, is the spiritual impact of Thinking Day. A special message I broadcast some years ago gives my assessment of its value: “During the twenty-four hours of 22 February, these kindly, generous thoughts are being thrown out into the ether by Guides who care personally about the preaching of love and goodwill in the world, and these thoughts and prayers are concentrated thus as a live force for the developing of friendship and understanding, for which all peoples are longing.”

“Though you cannot visit sister Guides in France or Finland, in Austria or Australia, in Italy or Iceland, Canada or Chile, Ghana or Guatemala, U.S.A. or U.A.R., you can reach out to them there in your MIND. And in this unseen, spiritual way you can give them your uplifting sympathy and friendship. Thus do we Guides, of all kinds and of all ages and of all nations, go with the highest and the best towards the spreading of true peace and goodwill on earth.”

Right sort of thinking

Beyond those in the Scouts or Guides – and their associated groups- Thinking Day is little known. Celebrated every year since 1922, the 22nd of February, or nearest weekend, it’s central idea is that it was a day that members thought about their sisters and brothers originally in Britain but now globally, and the movement’s impact.

 Thinking about you

The date was chosen because it was rather coincidentally the birthday of both Lord Robert Baden-Powell and Lady Olave Baden-Powell the founders of the Scouts and Guides. Interestingly, according to Lady Baden-Powell that the origin for the idea was from overseas. In Window on my Heart she states

“It was in Poland [at the 7th World Guide Conference, held in Kattawice in 1932] that `Thinking Day’ had its origins. A Belgian Guider at the Conference suggested that there should be one day set apart in each year when all of us should think of each other in terms of love and friendship. All the students of Scout and Guide pray to the god could have as vital a power as the Women’s World Day of Prayer. There was also a practical suggestion that on `Thinking Day’, each Guide throughout the world should contribute `A Penny for Your Thoughts’ towards the World Association funds. The Conference paid Robin (her pet-name for her husband) and me the compliment of choosing our joint birthday, 22 February, as Thinking Day. At first the idea hung fire but, one by one, the nations began to promote the scheme. Money began to pour in for the World Association and the totals have risen steadily from £520 12s. 6d. in 1933 to £35,346 in 1970/71 — the last year for which I have the complete figures.”

Traditional thinking

Over the time various customs and traditions have arisen connected to the day. One tradition is that at dusk a candle should be placed in the window by every Scout or Guide, ex-Scout or ex-Guide,:

 “This is my little Guiding Light, I’m going to let it shine.”

Another tradition is sending letters or postcards to other Scout and Guides before Thinking Day and of course as this has grown globally the spread has been so that email, tweets and facebook posts have replaced this!

A tradition which was upheld in many schools, but appears slowly to be dying out is that members would come to school dressed in their uniform. This is still upheld in some schools, such as Emerson Valley School, Milton Keynes is and recent report stated on their website:

“Wednesday 22nd February is World Thinking Day.  It is a very important day for Beavers, Cubs, Scouts, Rainbows, Brownies and Guides as it is the birthday of  Lord and Lady Baden Powell, Founders of the movement. A number of Emerson Valley School children and staff followed the tradition of proudly  wearing their uniforms to school!

In 1999 at the 30th World Conference the name was changed from Thinking Day to World Thinking Day and themes were introduced. These ranged from 2005’s Thinking about food, 2008 Thinking about Water but more recently the Thinking prefix has been dropped and themes are just Connect and Grow.

In a way it is a shame that Thinking Day is restricted to the Scouting movement – it would be nice for us all to adopt it – we could all do some time to think about others and issues!

Custom revived: Olney Pancake Race

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You might drive past or through Olney and not stop. It is one of countless small towns in the midlands, the backbone of Britain. However, some people will pass through and remember that Olney is famed for its annual pancake race – the town sign helps of course. Perhaps the most famous place to do a Pancake Race.

Flipping good time?

There certainly is a great atmosphere on Shrove Tuesday in Olney. Schools close, people crowd the streets around the Bull, and pans are ready. Of course there are many pancake races ran on this day up and down the country, but Olney has a unique feeling. Part of this is due to the dress of its female (the only people other than children) allowed to race – there is no equal opps here I think!

No pancakes provided but a pan is, as the message on their website reads:

“Things you need to bring with you on race morning ** You will need a skirt & a pancake Running t-shirt, headscarf, apron, frying pan will be provided”

And as a sign of the times:

“Please do not wear any sponsorship logos apart from those given to you by the race organisers, (charity runners are encouraged to promote their charitable cause).”

Such events need such sponsorship to survive…and there is nothing wrong with that! In 2016 I see unsurprisingly its DuPont™ Teflon® I’d be upset if they did not! Of course in the modern age we need to be enacting and again the website guidance states:

The Race: Once you are all lined up the churchwarden will ring the pancake bell and say ‘Toss your pancakes’…….., please then toss your pancake…..   He will then say; ‘Are you ready?…..on your marks……get set…….go!’ Once you have passed the finish line please toss your pancake again.”

No mid race tossing perhaps they are concerned an accident and the pan-ic that might ensue?

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Flipping good legend

A local legend is provided to explain the race. It is a common legend in other places. It is said that upon hearing the Shriving Bell, a local housewife too busy cooking rushed to the church carrying her frying pan.

Flipping not true?

The website states:

Run since 1445 whatever the weather – so turn up, have fun and good luck!!!”

Ask a resident of Olney and they’ll say that it was first run in 1445. Others claim that it even took place during the War of the Roses in the late 15th century. They claim that it has lapsed over a number of years….but sadly there is no evidence! Although the weather statement is!

What is fairly certain is that the Reverend Canon Ronald Collins in 1948 revived the custom after finding some old photos of the races from the 1920s and 30s. He appealed for volunteers and that year thirteen runners ran on Shrove Tuesday.  Going beyond this becomes more more and more difficult. Steve Roud (2006) in The English Year states that it is believed that the custom begun just before the First World War, then lost, then revived in the 1920s, then lost. An article in The Times from 1939 is apparently the first to describe the race and records it was revived 14 years previous. However, one cannot go back further than this and it is significant that no notable historical research writer on days gone make reference to it! What is more likely that like other villages and towns a pancake bell or shriving bell was indeed rung and people confused the tradition.

Flipping liberal

What also makes Olney unique is that every year since 1950 it has been an international event. As the website again notes:

The link with liberal (Kansas, USA) will take place in the Church Hall at 7.00 p.m. Please would the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd runners take part in this.”

A second race takes place at the same time as Liberal in the US. The race is run on how fast they are but I amazed in this day and age no-one has thought of a video link. Perhaps hologram race in the future.

Olney was one of the first such events I attended back in the 90s when I became interested in our curious customs. I haven’t unfortunately been back since but I’d imagine is everyway as flipping fun as it was back then and will forever.

Custom demised: Stephening at Drayton Beauchamp

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Drayton Beauchamp rectory where locals would apply for Stephening

Christmastide was a period in which begging was common, however in the majority of counties, this was focused on St Thomas’s Day, the 21st. However, in Drayton Beauchamp a custom called Stephening, named after St. Stephen’s Day, was established. It was noted by Chambers’ 1869 The Book of Days who states:

“On St. Stephen’s Day, all the inhabitants used to pay a visit to the rectory, and practically assert their right to partake of as much bread and cheese and ale as they chose at the rector’s expense.”

The custom was not popular with everyone and the account notes:

“the then rector, being a penurious old bachelor, determined to put a stop, if possible, to this rather expensive and unceremonious visit from his parishioners. Accordingly, when St. Stephen’s Day arrived, he ordered his housekeeper not to open the window-shutters, or unlock the doors of the house, and to remain perfectly silent and motionless whenever any person was heard approaching. At the usual time the parishioners began to cluster about the house. They knocked first at one door, then at the other, then tried to open them, and on finding them fastened, they called aloud for admittance. No voice replied. No movement was heard within. ‘Surely the rector and his house-keeper must both be dead!’ exclaimed several voices at once, and a general awe pervaded the whole group. Eyes were then applied to the key-holes, and to every crevice in the window-shutters, when the rector was seen beckoning his old terrified housekeeper to sit still and silent. A simultaneous shout convinced him that his design was under-stood. Still he consoled himself with the hope that his larder and his cellar were secure, as the house could not be entered. But his hope was speedily dissipated. Ladders were reared against the roof, tiles were hastily thrown off, half-a-dozen sturdy young men entered, rushed down the stairs, and threw open both the outer-doors. In a trice, a hundred or more unwelcome visitors rushed into the house, and began unceremoniously to help themselves to such fare as the larder and cellar afforded; for no special stores having been provided for the occasion, there was not half enough bread and cheese for such a multitude. To the rector and his housekeeper, that festival was converted into the most rigid fast-day they had ever observed.”

It was understandably that providing food and drink would cause issues, mainly of drunkenness and rioting, and so in the 1800s, the Reverend Basil Wood rather than getting away with it converted it into an annual sum of money. This was the final death kneel for as the population of the population grew he felt it was more difficult to uphold. Thus in 1827 he abolished it although for many years people would still try to attempt to gain food. In Chambers’ 1869 The Book of Days again he notes:

“In the year 1834, the commissioners appointed to inquire concerning charities, made an investigation into this custom, and several of the inhabitants of Drayton gave evidence on the occasion, but nothing was elicited to shew its origin or duration, nor was any legal proof advanced skewing that the rector was bound to comply with such a demand.”

The only relics of the custom are the rectory and three 17th century pewter plates with a pewter flagon with lid said to have been used for the ceremony. Despite the quote at the start, the sun might be still shining but Stephening has gone! The question is did it happen any where else?

 

Custom contrived: Apple Day

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An Apple a Day

Apples and the British. We do love an apple! Whether its plucked from the tree, in a sauce for pork or fermented in a cider, there’s something quintessential about apples and the British. We’ve sung to give good crops and bobbed at Halloween so it is about time they had their own custom.

National Apple Day is a contrived custom which has spread remarkably quickly. Started in 1990 on the 21st October. Like the trees themselves they have grown and grown! Its unusual compared to some contrived customs because firstly it has spread and secondly it was the establishment on one organisation, Common Group, an ecological group established in 1983

The rationale by the initiators the Common Ground was to celebrate the richness and variety of the apples grown in the UK and by raising awareness hopefully preserve some of the lesser known types, hopefully preserving old orchards and the wildlife associated with them

Apple of your eye

The Common Ground website describes how by reviving the old apple market in London’s covent garden the first apple day was celebrated:

The first Apple Day celebrations, in the old Apple Market in London’s Covent Garden, brought fruit to the market after 16 years’ absence. Forty stalls were taken. Fruit growers and nurseries producing and selling a wide variety of apples and trees rubbed shoulders with juice-and cider-makers, as well as writers and illustrators with their apple books.

Representatives of the WI came laden with chutneys, jellies and pies. Mallorees School from North London demonstrated its orchard classroom, while the Hertfordshire & Middlesex Wildlife Trust explained how it manages its orchard for wildlife. Marks & Spencer helped to start a trend by offering tastings of some of the 12 ‘old varieties’ they had on sale that autumn. Organic growers were cheek by jowl with beekeepers, amidst demonstrations of traditional and modern juice presses, a calvados still and a cider bar run by the Campaign for Real Ale. Experts such as Joan Morgan identified apples and offered advice, while apple jugglers and magicians entertained the thousands of visitors – far more than we had expected – who came on the day.”

From the seeds…

From that first Apple Day, it has spread. By 1991 there were 60 events, growing to 300 in 1997 and now 1000s official and unofficial events, mainly but not wholly focusing on traditional apple growing regions such as Herefordshire. It has grown to incorporate a whole range of people to include healthy eating campaigns, poetry readings, games and even electing an Apple King and Queen in some places festooned with fruity crown. In Warwickshire the Brandon Marsh Nature reserve stated in 2016:

Mid Shires Orchard Group are leading a day celebrating the wonders of English apples. Learn about different varieties, taste fresh apple juice and have a go at pressing (you can even bring your own apples to have turned into juice for a donation).

Things to do on the day:

  • Play apple games •Learn about local orchards •Discover orchard wildlife •Enjoy the exhibitions •Explore the Apple Display • Buy heritage apple trees.”

Whilst a Borough Market, London, a blessing is even involved:

“Borough Market’s neighbour Southwark Cathedral will also celebrate the day with a short act of harvest worship in the Market, accompanied by the Market’s choir.”

Apple Day shows us that however urban our environment we can still celebrate our rural connections and with the growing number of events it is clear Apple Day is here to stay!

Custom demised: Primrose Day

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In a month when we have been discussing the death of a noted Conservative Prime Minster, it is perhaps a strange coincidence that April, the 19th to be particular, was the date commemorating another famed prime minster – Benjamin Disreali, who died on that date in 1881. So popular was he and his polices that in 1883 an organisation within the Conservatives was formed, called the Primrose league to commemorate the man and promote his political views, centred on one nation Conservatism.

A rose by any name!

In those days, Monarchs never attended the funerals of Prime Ministers; even one so well thought of, Victoria was apparently very fond of him! However, this did not prevent her sending a wreath of primroses. Attached to them was the note ‘His favourite flower’.

Here lies the confusing because someone thought that this meant Disraeli, but actually Victoria meant Albert! Despite this anyone wishing to show support to the prime minister and his work wore a primrose on their lapel. Even soon after the death of Disraeli, the wearing of primroses had so popular that a reported in the Pall Mall Budget:

“Lord Beaconsfield died Wycombe was full of visitors and they all wanted primroses. One enterprising genius established a regular business. He employed bands of children who scoured the countryside far and near for primroses, which he made up into bouquets and sold to visitors, guaranteeing that each bunch had been gathered on the favourite walk of the late Earl. Innumerable basketfuls were disposed of in this way, and now, no doubt, primroses are somewhat scarce.”

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The correspondent went on to discuss that:

“Primrose Day is leading to the extirpation of the primrose; and unless the eccentric craze changes, the last primrose is likely to take its place with the “last rabbit” in the British Museum.”

Primrose fever had certainly begun early as the Daily Telegraph on 1888 it was noted:

Never have primroses been so largely worn Merchants in the city, ladies in the West-end, cabmen on their hansoms, ‘bus drivers, errand boys, and nursemaids were alike in their tastes.”

The correspondent in the Pall Mall Budget further noted that:

“At Hughenden the work of extinction has progressed apace, and Primrose Day will find few primroses blooming on the wooded slopes of Hughenden Manor… Up the hill and through the park hardly a primrose was to be seen. ….. After wandering the long way through the wood I carne at last upon a tuft of the missing flower.”

However at the grave:

“Here, indeed, I found some primroses. At the head of the grave they grow in a circle, but their effect was obscured by the gorgeous, not to say gaudy, flower-bed which occupied the rest of the grave. There, in the form of a cross, flowered a brilliant display of hyacinths of all colours, mingled with which were, here and there, bright red and yellow tulips, the whole forming a mass of colour much more characteristic of the Oriental taste and policy of the late Prime Minister than the pale primrose. The grave is carefully tended, and a perpetual succession of flowers is kept up all the year round…..The Queen’s wreath still lingers at the head of the grave, looking rather the worse for wear, and partially concealing the inscription.”

The custom was not restricted to Buckinghamshire and membership grew to a peak of one million members according to the Primrose League gazette of April 1978. It rallyappears to have been very popular in Devon and the other side of the country. Sutton (1996) in her Lincolnshire Calendar notes how widespread the celebration became. A correspondent noted:

“My father used to cycle to the woods in Potterhanworth, a day or two before Primrose Day. He gathered as many he could, and my sisters and I had to do them up in little bushes. He would cycle all the way to Lincoln to sell them on the market to raise funds for the party.”

Another recollection notes:

“I was a girl guide and when it was Primrose Day we all had to go out to gather Primroses. We pulled them from the ‘banks’. Sincil Banks. Then we took them around the streets of Lincoln to the old people’s houses, for whoever wanted to wear one.”

And:

“My parents used to walk us to Skellingthorpe Walks to gather primroses. There were so many it was like walking on a yellow carpet. We tied them up in little bunches with tiny pieces of twine. Sometimes the flowers were so cold they nearly froze your fingers. Then we had the jolly job of selling them on the market. A lot of people like to wear them. Mother used to wear an enamel badge, it was shaped like a primrose and yellow in colour, she was in the Primrose League.”

Records show that London’s Disraeli statue was regularly adorned with wreaths. However, it was at his grave that the most noted celebration of the custom was the laying of flower wreaths on monuments to him. The most famous being the Hughenden Pilgrimage to his grave. This would be followed by a service at the church and luncheon at the Manor. This was heavily reported in the media up until the 1940s with a number of notable Pathe reports showing a great congregation of well dressed and not so well heeled it appears, flowing down the lane to the grave carrying a great range of wreaths and floral tributes. According to one report, the laying of the wreath could often be done by the sitting leader of the party or more usually an ex-prime minster, Winston Churchill (his father was instrumental in its foundation) and Alex Douglas-Hume who were both the Grandmaster or chairman of the association as we would call it.

This ceremony appeared to have petered out in the late 1980s or early 1990s (the last report I can find is in 1987) although I have been unable to confirm this. This disappearance of the custom went hand in hand with decline in the League. Then on the 16th December 2004, the Daily Telegraph reported:

“this week saw a significant event for any observers of political history: after 121 years, the Primrose League was finally wound up. The league’s aim was to promote Toryism across the country. ‘In recent years, our meetings have become smaller and smaller,’ says Lord Mowbray, one of the league’s leading lights. Its remaining funds have been donated to Tory coffers. “On Monday, I presented Michael Howard and Liam Fox with a cheque for £70,000,” adds Lord Mowbray proudly.”

From wikimedia

From wikimedia

However, despite a few groups surviving notably in Leicestershire I believe, a visit to London’s Disraeli’s statue on the 19th and you will find no evidence of wreaths, and although the National Trust at Hughenden Manor celebrate it in their way, with talks, the death of the Primrose league in 2004, appears to have been the last nail in the true celebration of Primrose Day. Fortunately someone thought to plant primroses on his grave and these flower on the day. I am sure he would have approved…Albert that is!

learn more about the League from this excellent website and thanks to John King for the help with this article http://primrose-league.leadhoster.com

Custom demised: Observing the holy thorn

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A thorny subject

Just before Christmas in 2010 vandals inexplicably chopped down the Holy Thorn on Wearyall Hill, Glastonbury and a nation was shocked. Whatever the reason for this destruction it prevented anyone witnessing this tree blooming according to tradition. However, despite this being the most iconic and well known holy thorn, it was only one of a considerable number across the country which originates from the original tree which stood before the Parish church before being cut down by Cromwellian troops in the English civil war, the axe wielder is said to have lost an eye as a result which James Howell of odona’s grove noted:

“He was well serv’d for his blinde Zeale, who going to cut doune an ancient white Hauthorne-tree, which, because she budded before the others, might be an occasion of superstition had some of the prickles flew into his eye and made him Monoculor”

However this tree is not the holy thorn, not even in Glastonbury for its progeny is found in the churchyard and Abbey grounds. Records of other holy thorns occur not surprisingly at West Buckland, Woolmingston and Whitestaunton also in Somerset, Sutton Poyntz Dorset, but also at Houghton Le Spring, Durham, Brickendon, Hertfordshire and Shenley Church End and Quainton, Buckinghamshire. Herefordshire curiously had and has a number of examples. These listed by folklorist Leather included Wormsley, Rowlstone, Dorstone, Colwall, Stoke Edith, King’s Thorn, Tyberton with one at Bredwardine in Herefordshire. Palmer notes Alfrick, Hampton, Newland, Ripple and Tardebigge in Worcestershire.

A blossoming story

Despite being such a well known story, the thorn is only first mentioned in a 1520 work by Richard Pynson Lyfe of Joseph of Arimathea where the blooming in winter and spring are first recorded. Indeed, Joseph himself only appears in legend in the 9th century. What is interesting is that the plant, Crataegus monogyna biflora is not a native species. DNA of all known descendents match and experts in Kew have identified it from Levantine Palestine hawthorn…so there may be evidence.
To these trees it was customary for the devout to visit these bushes on Christmas Eve to see them bloom. In the 17th century Bishop Goodman of Gloucester noted:

“The white thorn of Glastonbury which usually blossoms on Christmas and Easter.”

The flowers were thought to bloom exactly on midnight, the hour Christ was born, on Christmas Eve, and then drop off an hour later. For example an account in the East Anglia Miscellany notes a thorn:

“near Parham Hall (Norfolk) is a white thorn bush which blossoms by Christmas Day, and the people of the neighbourhood flock to it in great companies upon Christmas Eve..”

Although the author does note that:

“I had some of the buds just blooming brought to me on Sunday, the 2nd of December, 1734”

But wait a minute this is January’s blog!

Yes and the date of the above account is significant, for only 22 years later it may not have bloomed. Why because in 1752, the calendar changed. Indeed, the blooming of the holy thorns was used by those critical of the date change as evidence that the new calendar was wrong. For when the calendar did change, these disbelievers of the new Calendar, waited to see when the tree would blossom the 25th December or the 6th January? The Gentleman’s magazine reported in 1753 in January:

“A Vast concourse of people attended the noted thorn on Christmas-day, new stile, but to their great disappointment, there was no appearance of its blowing,which made them watch it narrowly the 5th of January, the Christmas-day, old stile, when it blowed as usual.”

Such begun a January tradition For example on the 7th January 1878, the author Kilvert visited a farm at Dolfach where the blossoming was witnessed by a group of fifteen people and he was given a spray of blossom by the farmer’s daughter. Kilvert notes that he grafted this cutting onto his tree and reported that on the same date the next year it bloomed despite the severe frost. Attendance to see the thorns was still current in Sutton Poyntz Dorset until 1844, Woolmingston Somerset 1898 and Wormsley at least until 1908 when folklorist Ella Mary Leather recorded it in her Folklore of Herefordshire. She also noted one of the reasons for the popularity of the custom and its demise:

“A piece of thorn gathered at this hour brings luck, if kept for the rest of the year. Formerly crowds of people went to see the thorn blossom at this time. I myself went to Wormesely in 1908; about forty people were there, and as it was quite dark and the blossom could only be seen by candle light, it was probably the warmth of the candles which made some of the little white buds seem to expand. The tree had really been in bloom for several days, the season being extremely mild. Mr Powell of Peterchurch told me he could remember that on old Christmas Eve, people came for miles round to Kingstone Grange, where a holy thorn grew in the garden; they were liberally supplied with cake and cider.”

Blooming cheek – an unpopular custom

Leather noted that such rather impromptu perhaps gatherings were not always popular she notes:

“At Cleohanger, years ago a man was very much annoyed at the damage done to his garden by those coming to see the thorn blossom which grew there, so he began to cut it down. But blood flowed from the trunk of the tree and this so alarmed him he left off at once!”
Similarly at Acton Beauchamp, the local farmer so annoyed by the concourse of people who crossed his field to see the flowering, that he destroyed the thorn but so the story says he broke both arm and legs and his farm house burnt down!”

Nipped in the bud

Not always were the crowds able to witness a show. A 100 assembled in 1934 failed to see the Cleohanger thorn bloom. Yet in 1949, it was reported by the Times that the Orcop Thorn at the Stars Little Hill in the village was to be filmed by the BBC put there was nowhere to plug in their lamps! Indeed memory of visiting the thorns is still current if a correspondent to WW2 People’s War website is anything to judge:

“I used to visit my Grandparents over Christmas and there was a thorn tree that used to flower. They had a ladder to pick the bloom..If you picked the flower when it flowered, the next morning it would have died. Young men used to pick the flowers for their girl friends. There were lots of flowers in the tree-it used to be in full bloom. Everyone got excited about it-the adults would be chattering.”

Sadly this thorn was lost in a storm of 1980. However, the third reason for the decline had already had a significant effect. The predations of the pickers which came in coach loads had their impact and weakened it. Of the other holy thorns, I am unclear of what survives or still blooms and it would be useful to do further research. Many other sacred thorns lie forgotten and unheralded. Some have died such as that of Orcop above, Shenley Church End, and Quainton Buckinghamshire and Houghton Le spring (although a cutting survives) others survive such as that of Brickenden, Hertfordshire and Glastonbury of course, but whether they can escape the joint perils of ignorance and vandalism is yet to be seen.

Custom survived: Firing the Fenny Poppers

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Firing the Fenny Poppers (2)
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The days before the web

The firing of the Fenny Poppers was the first ceremonial custom I intentionally visited. True, I had come across such events before, the Lord Mayor’s show, Morris dancers (some of my earliest memories which speaks volumes perhaps) and the odd bit of Maypole dancing. But this was different. I had read about it in an old book on customs and was intrigued to find out more. In those days, there was no internet and the first port of call would be the local Tourist misinformation Centre as I call them. I rang up Milton Keynes and unsurprising, as I wasn’t after accommodation or information on theme parks, they were unable to help me! That’s not strictly true they did suggest I contact the church. So with my copy of Crockfords, I rang up….but didn’t get through. I decided to go anyway….if it wasn’t one there were always other things to do around it.

I turned up in the village, now a suburb of that large Milton Keynes and asked. “It happens at the rec”. At first I was confused by this, until the lady directed me to the recreation ground. Here were the poppers, miniature canons, embedded in the leafy soil of that park.

Pocket canons which pack a punch!

364 days a year, these six strange objects, which resemble small beer tankards, hang in that parish church. Then on the 11th they are brushed down, filled with gunpowder and fired! Called ceremonial cannons, it is thought that the originals dated from 1740, but may have indeed been medieval as their instigator collected such items. They unsurprisingly became cracked and deteriorated such that they were re-cast in 1859. It is still remarkable that they are still being used.

These guns were placed upwards and slightly buried, loaded with charges of around an ounce of black gunpowder. Then with twelve foot metal rod with a red-hot end, made so in the church furnace, they were lit gleefully by the church warden and they certainly made a bang. This ceremony happens at noon, 2pm and then 4pm. Originally, the ceremony was at the church by the collateral damage to both it and the Bull it was moved to more open ground.  When I visited, the custom was bereft of any cones and cordoning, only the bellowing of the church warden to look out! It is noted that by tradition the vicar fired the first, and local notable people would do the others, but I cannot remember others doing it.

A blazing memorial

This is a strange celebration associated with Dr. Browne Willis a rather eccentric historian who paid for the building of St. Martin’s church in 1730. This being intentional named after his grandfather a noted neurologist, Thomas who lived on St. Martin’s Lane, London, prayed at St Martin in the Fields in London and even died on 11th November!

Upon his death, he wanted to make sure Martinmass was truely celebrated and so a sermon was established in his honour of his grandfather, a noted neurologist Thomas Willis, an evening meal at The Bull where turkey would always be served and more excitedly, the firing of the fenny poppers as they became known, on that date. Interestingly its celebration is a rare survival for mention November 11th to many people and Remembrance Day will be their answer and indeed many may confuse the firing with that commemoration but they of course would be wrong.

The Firing of the Fenny Poppers is a quintessential British custom, noisy, smelly, enigmatic and to be honest slightly pointless, and all the better for it.