Category Archives: Gloucestershire

Custom contrived: Apple Day

Standard

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: Calennig on New Year’s Day

Standard

“Dydd calan yw hi heddiw, Rwy’n dyfod ar eich traws I ‘mofyn am y geiniog, Neu grwst, a bara a chaws. O dewch i’r drws yn siriol Heb newid dim o’ch gwedd; Cyn daw dydd calan eto Bydd llawer yn y bedd.”

Translated: “Today is the start of the New Year, and I have come to you to ask for coins, or a crust, and bread and cheese. O come to the door cheerfully without changing your appearance; Before the next arrival of the new year many will be dead.”

image

On New Year’s morning the streets of parts of Wales, rural areas of Dyfed, Aberystwyth, Monmouthshire, Radnorshire, Glamorgan and Carmarthan, could be heard this curious rhyme which was associated with a strange gift. As a custom it only appears to have spread with slight variation to the boarder regions of England – Gloucestershire’s Forest of Dean, Shropshire and Worcestershire. Although we associate Christmas Day as the traditional day for gifts, New Year’s Day was also often associated with gift giving. This was more often associated with the idea of First footing – which survives albeit in a weakened form across England – even this year I remembered my bread to bring in.

Yet as noted until fairly recently Wales had a unique house visiting custom one which involved children. They would visit their relatives by midday carrying skewered apples stuck with fruit and raisins – akin to pomander. Ronald Hutton in his Stations of the Sun describes them as follows:

“an apple or orange, resting on three sticks like a tripod, smeared with flour, stuck with nuts, oats or wheat, topped with thyme or another fragrant herb and held by a skewer.”

It was the fruit which was called the Calennig it appears rather than the custom. In the book 1944 book The Pleasant Land of Gwent, Fred Hando notes a report of his friend Arthur Machen who noted:

“When I was a boy in Caerleon-on-Usk, the town children got the biggest and bravest and gayest apple they could find in the loft, deep in the dry bracken. They put bits of gold leaf upon it. They stuck raisins into it. They inserted into the apple little sprigs of box, and they delicately slit the ends of hazel-nuts, and so worked that the nuts appeared to grow from the ends of the holly leaves … At last, three bits of stick were fixed into the base of the apple tripod-wise; and so it borne round from house to house; and the children got cakes and sweets, and-those were wild days, remember-small cups of ale.”

In Gentlemens magazine march 1919:

“Children to their inexpressibly journey will be drest in their best bibs and aprons, and may be seen handed along the streets, some beating Kentish pippins, others oranges stuck with cloves, in order to crave a blessing of their godfathers and god others”

Generally states as the Calennig had a basic design. As Jacqueline Simpson in Folklore of the Welsh boarder this was an apples mounted on three wooden legs (a tripod) and decorated with sprigs of box and hazel nuts.

It was not always restricted to apples either sometimes it was an orange in this case using holly, tinsel, raisins, gold and silver glitter being added.

The Opie’s in Lore of Schoolchildren (1955) notes of a Radnorshire girl

“I always go New Year gifting with my sister and friends, about four of us. I get up about 7 O’clock and call for my friends and go around the houses and farms:

“I wish you a merry Christmas,

A happy new year,

A pocket full of money and a cellar full of beer,

A good fat pig to last you all year,

Please give me a New Year’s gift for this New Year.”

She stated that sometimes she would get apples or mince pies. She stated that gifting must finish by midday otherwise people will shout ‘fool at you.’

The custom appeared similar in south-west Shropshire in Clun where the children recited:

“Happy New Year. Happy New Year, I’ve come to wish you happy New Year.

I’ve got a little pocket and it is very thin,

Please give me a penny to put the money in,,

If you haven’t got a penny, a half penny will do, if you haven’t got a half penny – God bless you.”

Interestingly in Glamorgan and Carmarthen they could extend it to the entire month. Whether we should include the English counties is unclear, as outside of Wales the decorated apple does not appear to be recorded. It was called The gift in Worcestershire, Herefordshire and Gloucestershire. Interestingly, Simpson in Folklore of the Welsh boarder states they were still common in Monmouthshire and around St Briavels in 1900. In Chepstow she states before the First World War it was called a Monty and those who carried it chanted:

“Monty, Monty, Happy New Year,

A pocket full of money and cellar full of beer”

Origins of the custom

It is possible that the custom descended from adults for in Herefordshire, the 1822 Gentleman’s Magasine notes that the peasantry called with:

“a small pyramid made of leaves, apples, nuts etc,, gilt in hope of receiving gifts in exchange for the luck this conferred.”

Yet by 1880s it was only youngsters. Certainly in 17th and 18th references are made to a decorated orange with cloves being a gift for New Years in England. Brand (1900) in his Observations on popular antiquities makes note of a remark on the Christmas masque of Ben Jonson ‘he has an orange and rosemary, but not a clove to stick in it Hutton in his Stations of the Sun saw the three components as representing gifts of the Three Wise Men of sweetness, wealth and immortality. The author of The weird wonders of wales – the right way with Calennig from 12/12/1986 notes:

“This calennig apple clearly dates from ancient times, being a representation of the sun which was absent during winter.

Death of the custom?

Even by the early 20th century it was in decline as Donald Davis of Those were the days from 11/7/1936 notes:

“Lately the carrying of an apple has been discontinued and only the recitation of brief verses or greetings and the collection of new pennies mark the custom in those districts where it has survived.”             

In Llandysul, Carmarthanshire, an account on the BBCs Domesday Reloaded records:

The custom has rapidly declined over the years and this year, 1985, very few children came collecting because the children today get enough pocket money and food. Also, many children may not have been told about the custom by their parents.”

In other parts of the country it was still being recorded but it in a way the well-meaning anonymous author of The author of The weird wonders of wales – the right way with calennig from 12/12/1986 perhaps by begrudging gifts led to its decline:

“Soon it will be calennig time. That’s when youngsters come to the door asking for me years gifts. Over the last few years, those who have come to my door have been duly treated, but this year will be different. Why? Because they haven’t been doing it right! Shame on them. We shall put things right. The way it should be done….is for the children to knock day a proper calennig verse to the person who answers, and then receive the gift.

He also goes on to note he had seven such verses that the children should use.

“Os fyddech chi mor garedig, Ac agor drws y ty, Y flwyddyn fwyaf lucid a fyddo gyda chwi” ‘Blwyddyn newydd dda I chi, Ac I bawb sydd yn y ty, dyma yw’n dymuniad ni O ddechrau’r flwyddyn hon.’ If no one answers Blwyddyn newydd ddrwg, Llond y ty o fwg.’ A bad new year may your house fill with smoke and then run away like the clapper readers can help preserve the custom too by responding to those youngsters who ‘do it proper’, let’s see what we can do to keep our traditions alive”

I wonder if they heeded him. Certainly there is little reference I can find to the custom through the 90s. Today Calennig has become a name for civic New Year’s celebration, often for children, such as those held in Cardiff. Yet it is difficult to be sure with private and domestic customs. Does it still survive? Certainly it did in 2003 but by the sound of the article The custom of calennig on 16/1/03 it did not sound particularly healthy (with five children only)!:

“The old welsh tradition of calennig is still alive in Llanrhystud. At around 11 o’clock on New Year’s Day in the morning the joyful sound of children’s voices was heard at several homes in and around the village as five local children sang traditional New Year songs to wish all those they visited a happy new year. Some were rewarded sign gifts of money. In older times children would be given gifts of fruit, cakes or sweets. Calennig normally begins soon after the dawn of the New Year and continues until noon, the earliest callers are generously rewarded for their enthusiasm. It is good to see this ancient custom continuing well into the twenty first century.”

The fact that the custom survived into the 80s with no mention as a living custom by folklorists is astounding, survival into the 21st century even more amazing, but of course such customs can survive like the New Year’s Penny Scramble in Driffield which was then absent from books and sites like the excellent Calendercustoms. Certainly people are aware of it as the Youtube clip and Twitter feeds shows and guides how to make one exist. But does any child still go out properly house visiting with one? Has it died a death completely like other house visiting customs succumbed to the power of Hallowe’en! Does it still survive where you are? Please comment and perhaps add photos.

Custom survived: Bisley Ascension day Well dressing

Standard

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The three days before Ascension Day it never stopped raining, so it was with some trepidation that I made my journey to Bisley for their annual water based celebration. Rain was on the forecast, but I noticed oddly enough a gap both geographically and temporally was noted on the weather website and that was good enough for me. Of course, rain would be wholly appropriate on a day when thanks is traditionally given for water, a little odd since the day commemorates the Ascension of Jesus, which of course is the reverse!

Well positioned

Bisley is a delightful village, high above Stroud, it has all the great features of a classic Cotswold village with a historic old pub, The Bear with its association with the Bisley Boy legend ( a story of a switch between a local lookalike and a child Elizabeth I), a lock-up and those traditional delightful Cotswold stone cream buildings..and a picturesque well head situated below the church’s rocky outcrop. This well head, encloses seven springs, the name given to the site, of which five flow with considerable power through Gothic pointed arches and into a trough which lines the walling. Another two at the front gable fill large troughs. The water looks delightfully refreshing.

Well thought of.

The custom is one of the oldest Well dressing customs continually done in England; the only one outside of the Derbyshire-Staffordshire region with any pedigree. There are after all tens of well dressings and I don’t yet intend detailing all, but one so unique geographically and old needs mention. Surprising, it is still little known, cursory mention is made of it in well dressing volumes and even Katherine Brigg’s 1974 work Folklore of the Cotswolds ignores it!

Debate exists over whether in 1863 the custom was revived, transferred from Derbyshire or the pure invention of the noted vicar Thomas Keble. Being the brother of the more famous John of the Oxford movement it is fairly obvious that establishing such a custom fell into the remit of the Anglo-Catholic views they espoused. Certainly, the legend over the well was carved to cause controversy being a Catholic inscription of the version in the Common Book of Prayer.

The Reverend Keble repaired or built the well house, perhaps also giving the Seven springs name and having done so much effort thought it would be an excellent idea to celebrate this annually. Little appears to have recorded from this earliest day and the first mention of it is from Skyring Walters who’s 1928, Ancient Wells, Springs and Holy Wells of Gloucestershiresadly does not delve too deeply into their history and spends more time discussing Tissington.

DSC_0899

Bisley Boys (and Girls)

“The ceremony still has much traditional atmosphere unlike many of the Derbyshire well-dressings which are becoming more like floral art displays for tourists.”

Such states Laurence Hunt (1994) in Some Ancient Wells, Springs and Holy Wells of the Cotswolds in Source and I completely agree. One of the reasons why the Bisley dressings feel unique is the procession. Many Derbyshire well dressings have a brass band, so do Bisley, ably provided by Avening Brass Band, all have their clergy, but few possibly none carry the well dressings or have them carried by costumed children. These children are dressed in traditional Victorian Tudor blue coats and smocks for the girls. Joining them this year where two children from the twin town in Brittany with traditional Breton children’s dress. They carry the dressings because unlike those of Derbyshire they are wrapped in garland frames with moss and inserted flower heads made by a cross generational team of children, parents and grandparents. I was told that they take a day or so to make, which of course is shorter than that of Derbyshire, but they are no less picturesque or effective.

DSC_0625DSC_0813

Head from the spring head

There was short service in the Parish church, I decided as the sun was shining to listen from outside bathing in the bright sunshine. Then at around two the children appeared and collected their well garlands and after some to-ing and fro-ing to get those letters in the right order…ACSENSINO being an interesting word but not right! Then off they went following the brass band downhill to the wells.

At the wells, the two Star of Davids were attached to the front of the well house and the individual flower letters spelling ASCENSION were raised and an attached between each arch and in the middle the traditional flower letters and numbers AD 2014.

The other children and indeed some adults laid small posies in the long trough around the wells base, perhaps the most primitive of responses..ensuring that everyone in the village could commemorate this once valuable water source.

DSC_0748

At the well head, soon a large crowd assembled around and here on a small stage, the vicar, The Reverend Rosie Woodhall, read a watery reading of the Benedicite which ended with the fitting:

“O ye Wells, bless ye the Lord : praise him, and magnify him forever.”

The congregation sang and the wells were blessed and then a bit like a rock star, the vicar left the stage climbed back up the hill and disappeared out of view, which I thought a little strange,…perhaps the banter that I often expect from vicars at these events happened in the church above. Nevertheless, 2013 was the 150th anniversary and despite the rain that day, nothing appears to dampen the village’s desire to celebrate the wells and its 2014 celebration was a delightful remembrance of not only a once important source of water but a great vicar in the history of the Church.

Find out when its on

Calendar Customs …no specific site but there is a post on well dressing http://calendarcustoms.com/articles/well-dressing/and of course http://welldressing.com is your first port of call for all things well dressing naturally!

Copyright Pixyledpublications

Custom survived: Redcliffe Pipe Walk

Standard

“For the health of the soul of Robert Berkeley, who gave to God and the church of St. Mary Redcliffe and its ministers the Rugewell and conduit. AD 1190 Erected.”

So reads the tap head beside that ‘most beautiful church in England’ (according to Elizabeth I and who’s to argue?) and when Robert Berkeley gave this gift, back in 1190, one wonders if he would have been amazed that some 800 years on, those same church ministers, several generations on of course, would ensure that the supply was still available by this annual custom. I wonder whether he would have been impressed that some 800 years, that his direct descendent would be joining the annual walk to reinforce the ownership of that water, as for the first time possibly ever a member of the Berkley family attended the walk, a Mr. Charles Berkeley from the impressive Berkeley Castle (although it was his father who lived there!). A point I was quickly aware would be a good bargaining point for any naughty children on the walk. Behave! This man has a castle and dungeon he could throw you in. It worked!

Well meaning!

I lived for many years in this crown of the South West, but surprisingly never joined the party which have continued this fine if perhaps defunct tradition. Bristol weather is not always the best and any custom taking place outside at the end of October looks like one which might be prone to the vagaries of the weather! However, I checked the weather it suggested overcast with sunshine, fine by me.

A lot of water under the bridge

The Redcliffe pipe walk is the oldest observed custom of its kind. It survived the Reformation, a time when many church related endowments would be lost or transferred. However, at some point the inspection appears to have fallen into abeyance and was revived in 1928s as a report in a newspaper records as ‘after a lapse of some time’. One assumes it died out at the First World War, a common time for such ceremonies to die out a result of the loss of men in that terrible conflict. A similar custom was established to check the more substantial Temple Conduit which died out in 1835. Why is unclear, but around this time the Corporation would be establishing their water works. If the Redcliffe custom died out then, it seems strange that it would be re-established almost 100 years later, unless there was some need to re-emphasise some other endowment or right associated with the original gift. We really don’t know. Even when a bomb hit through the pipe line, the custom never ceased. Even when the flow became a trickle or ceased filling the tap head the custom never ceased. So it seems likely that a big event, the War being most likely. Since the late 1920s it has continued unbroken and as I have accepted the World Wars as being acceptable gaps in an over 100 year tradition I shall with this one.

The pipe walkers

The pipe walkers are ready!

Well met

I arrived early and headed for St. Barnabus Church, Knowle where the walkers would traditionally in recent times gather for refreshments and soon was made very welcome. As soon as ten o’clock arrived we all congregated in an area behind the church. The group, 24 in, made up the surveyor, the vicar, churchwardens, and large number of curious bystanders. Here the leader of the group, the aforemention church’s surveyor introduced himself and gleefully asked who was new to the walk..I wasn’t the only ones there was quite a few! We would  find out why later. He also introduced the vicar of St. Mary Redcliffe who led us in a prayer for the provision of water and in memory of the vicar of St Barnabus’s church who was presently ill.

Well thought of

From the vantage point we made our way into the allotments where the spring, called the Huge Well, still arises. We were shown the possible actual site of the well and a part of a conduit which had recently collapsed and revealed the channel beneath. As we stood surveying this site: it began to rain!! Very typical Bristol. However, as soon as we walked a few places to the well head chamber: it stopped! This was especially opened by the surveyor and we all peered in to this considerable stone lined chamber. One wonders what went through the mind of Mr. Berkeley’s descendent as he peered 800 years of reflecting on the everflowing gift. It was a good photo opportunity I thought to mark the event.

Mr Charles Berkeley, the descendent f the original benefactor.

Mr Charles Berkeley, the descendent of the original benefactor.

Here though I was asked to say a few words myself. Why? I by virtue of my other main interest (and blog) I was the well expert! I said a few words. I hope they were okay, although I did rather put my foot in it with my discussion of St. Anne’s well nearby…but that’s for another blog.

Inspecting the huge well

Inspecting the huge well

Walking on water

From this well head, a pipe line was laid travelling about two miles to a tap conduit head near the church of St. Mary Redcliffe. And of course we were there to survey it, the check at regular points that the pipe was still there and that access was still present. A two mile walk over the pipe, which was fortunately it was all downhill! For the next few 100 yards we travelled without any indication of a pipe, indeed the talk was more like a mass trespass through gardens and allotments, pass chickens and chard, raspberries and radishes…it wasn’t until we reached a garden on Raymend Walk that we saw our first real pipe laying under a metal manhole cover and flows through a Victorian metal pipe, replacing the lead and probably even wooden one of old. The family who owned the garden were very accommodating and offered the group apples from the tree. I asked them if they knew they’d be a yearly congregation of pipe walkers each year when they bought it! Fortunately they did. From here we had a bit of a detour as the surveyor worried that a wall on the route might be too prone to collapse to allow 20 odd people to pass it…but did this detour invalidate the claim I wondered! We still checked the stone, labelled SMP, which obviously reasserted the claim!

Through the allotments we go!

Through the allotments we go!

A bumping journey

Soon we arrived at Victoria Park, here the water filled a maze based on a labyrinth in St. Marys. It looked fairly clean and small shrimps disported themselves within it…but not sure I would drink it. At this point it was revealed why it was important to know who the newcomers were. At a larger pipe boundary stone the surveyor called forward newcomers to be bumped on the stone. This is probably the most traditionally part of the walk, often done of course at beating of the bounds, when mainly children were done. At first he said there were too many of us and he’d only do the children…however, this caused a bit of a ripple of indignation and so he offered anyone that wanted to be bumped would be done. I of course offered myself up. Followers of this blog will know that I’ve had a vicar on my chest being shoed at Hungerford Hocktide and this was much gentler. So I was lifted one…two…three. The vicar carrying me this time didn’t inflict any bruises. Also bumped was Mr. Berkeley. I am not sure his predecessor would have approved of the commoners manhandling him but of course this Berkeley thoroughly enjoyed it..and no-one would be sent to that castle dungeon.

The pipe inspected.

The pipe inspected.

All ages bumped!

All ages bumped!

The descendent gets bus bumps!

The descendent gets the bumps!

Pipe down we’re nearly there!

after the bumping, we examined another pipe. This one being much deeper, being reached by a ladder, and apparently had a tap where previous surveyors would take a sip. I noticed no-one appeared to volunteer this time. Then we regrouped and went under the railway, in the early 20th century we would go over the railway and the group had the power to stop the trains! Fortunately, we didn’t risk it. We were close to the final tap head and deep into the buzzy thrall of Bristol a big change from these peaceful allotments. Crossing the Avon, and two major roads, one could be forgiven in forgetting we were following a pipe, but soon at the church we saw the tap head.   Charles Berkeley was impressed by this tap head with its fine Lion mouth. Another good photo opportunity, as this descendent peered into the source of water which was of great benefit to the people of Bristol.  Nothing flowed from this tap, but above it the final manhole cover revealed oily irony water. I jokingly offered Mr. Berkeley a sip. He politely refused.  The arrival at the church was very welcome as was the spread of sandwiches, cakes and very refreshing tea topped off by a nice choir, welcoming us in song!

A custom which involves a long walk might not be everyones cup of tea but the Redcliffe Pipe Walk is an enjoyable experience coupled with some friendly folk. And perhaps it’s this sense of camaraderie which despite there being a lack of water and purpose the walk continues.

DSC_0323

– images copyright Pixyled Publications

 
Mr Charles Berkeley inspects the tap.

Custom revived: Gloucester Day and the Mock Mayor of Barton

Standard

Mockmayors (121)

“Dulce est Desipere in Loco”

It is delightful to play the fool occasionally, so reads the motto of the revived Mock Mayor of Barton. How appropriate!

Gloucester over it!

Land use around train stations in the UK is always less than promising. Only a handful of cities and towns can boast a good vista from the station. Gloucester isn’t one of them! The buildings around both train and bus station are no great advert for much of the beauty and fine architecture that can be found in the city: hideous concrete slabs, boarded up windows and row after row of charity shops and cheap shops. There must have been some nice architecture there…perhaps the war removed it, but the post-War did much to ruin it. So it might seem strange that a city which appears to be going through a patriotic revival ignores this part. Ho hum..a few  streets in of course and we enter the Gloucester of the postcard, but it’s a shame our post war architects could not have been more imaginative, but I digress.

Siege mentality

Gloucester Day celebrates the lifting of the 1643 Siege of Gloucester, when the city survived after an onslaught of the Royalist forces in the first English Civil War. Strangely despite celebrating what could be conceived an anti-Monarchist event, the custom survived until around the nineteenth century. It was arrived in 2009 by the colourful figure of Alan Myatt, the Town Crier and forms part of the Gloucester History and Heritage Week.

The new Mock mayor

Double Gloucester

Not only is Gloucester Day is celebrated on the day but there is a Morris meet, called Hands Around Gloucester and more interestingly the revived Mock Mayor of Barton. This too is believed to date from the Civil War. It is said that that after the siege Barton was removed from the city and so as a response decided to mock them and elect their own mayor. However, in a contributor to Jennings’ Gloucester Handbook suggests an age  “more ancient than the Mayors of Gloucester”, possibly deriving from an old moot called Halimote of Barton.  Certainly, the mock mayor did have a ‘court’, which would be held in various pubs doubling for the town hall: the Old Vauxhall and lastly the Bell Inn, and as noted a coat of ‘arms’. He also had some armorial insignia which survived in a wine merchant of Bell Lane in the 1880s, but now cannot be traced. The mayor would have duties such as visiting the Cotswold Olympics and the Cheese Rolling. The mayor could also inflict penalties, comical though they may be. Generally, the offender would be forbidden to:

 “shoot ducks, fowls, donkeys, pigs, or any game whatever, or fish in any river, running stream, ditch, pool, or puddle, with many other pains also”. 

Any resident of Barton who had lived there for two years would be eligible and were selected through some mistake or blunder:

“through want of judgement or absence of mind, made some blunders of an amusing nature before he could be named to the ‘Court’”

Once appointed he could not shake off this ‘honour’ and Duart-Smith (1923) notes that:

 “one of the elected mayors had impounded his own pigs by mistake, believing them to be his neighbour’s” 

Another member was inducted because he sowed soot to grow chimneys and another setting up a expensive fenced in piggery forgot to include a doorway! Interestingly, it is reported in the Gloucester Standard of c.1889 – 90 that despite the mockery of the position, some notable individuals became mayors such as a solicitor, the editor of the Gloucester Journal, a Russian Consul, and a timber importer and indeed once the City Mayor at that of Barton were one and the same. What caused the custom to disappear is unclear, but it probably considering its association with hostelries became associated with drunks and antisocial behaviour.

Mockmayors (239)Mockmayors (230)

Mockmayors (95)

Mockmayors (294)

Another month another Mock Mayor

At 11.00 in the morning the members of the Mock Mayor’s mayor making entourage assembled behind the museum and what a motley bunch: Morris dancers, goats, a colourful burger, sword bearer, and a whole range of eccentrics who resembled the Monster Raving Loony Party. With the sword beater menacing in front they were off to a confused Gloucester shopping public, some of who appear unaware that if a procession comes along get out the way!! They passed the real Mayor, councillors and local MP near St. Michael’s Tower, upon which the sword bearer undertook a circular dance, probably if not intentionally intending to show contempt to them much in way they did at Woodstock. The newly elected Mock Mayor being carried on a bike powered trailer and sat comically upon a metal beer barrel. After circling around the parade came back to near the tower where a stage was erected, here the other civic party awaited. The electee, sword bearer and burger climbed on stage, and some slights and comical I jokes came flying out. After the Mayor making proclamation which ended with an up yours, the more comical politicians had a say…I mean the local MP and real Mayor to recognise the valuable work behind the trivial ness done by the mock mayor. All the platitudes over the group processed down to the nearby church and here the Morris were there again holding aloft their staffs, they formed an arch under which the groups flowed for their thanksgiving service. For a few hours normality resumed, but then…

Off we go again

DSC_0264If one parade was not enough wait a few hours and another, larger one comes along at 2.00. This was the Gloucester Day parade. Back with the Mock Mayor, minus the Morris who congregated at the cross road near St. Micheal’s Tower, ready to dance as the group went by. These parades appear to have a formula:civic dignitaries + religious groups/Scottish bands+~ knights or Romans to its credit Gloucester’s parade added a bit more to this formula including cross dressers from the gay community, masons, a giant pig, those goats again, the Waits a revived medieval group of musicians, as well all lead by the town crier. I didn’t notice the Gloucester flag much touted from a few years back, but it was a flurry of colour and a barrage of beats. Perhaps not as comical as the mock mayor procession…but well worth a few and where else do you get two processions a day!

This re-instated custom certainly is impressive and undertaken which such enthusiasm it difficult to believe it is only been revived since 2009!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

image and text copyright Pixyledpublications

Custom survived:Bourton on the water Water football

Standard

Picture the scene:  a chocolate box village, young families bathing in the sunshine on the green, the elderly ambling along with their ice creams….a typical August bank holiday (except yes I did mention sunshine!)…eyes focus on a river flowing peacefully through this village and then peace is shattered as twelve men enter the water and kick a ball around making everyone drenched. This is not some anti-social group of trouble makers this is in Bourton on the Water, well known tourist hotspot and home to the country’s oddest match of the beautiful game…the Water Football. DSC_006122

Water a goal!

Details are scant on its history, the team formed in 1894 and this competition is said have been done as long as the club has existed and most authorities state it is over 100 years old, being linked to celebrations for Edward VII’s coronation. This year I introduced the contrived catergory for the many curious modern customs, perhaps best described as ‘devised by blokes down the pub’. This is probably the grand daddy of such beer fueled brainwaves. No one appears to know why it begun, but it probably did so as a way to raise money for the team. I say team, because, this is neither a national tournament nor a local derby, but played between the A and B teams of Bourton Rovers FC. We had left home a little late on the Bank Holiday, and hadn’t intended to visit Bourton on the Water. Leaving late on this day to such a popular place is a possible recipe for disaster. Bourton on the Water is a delightful Cotswold village one of a number of noted charming places on the route. Unfortunately, charming on Bank Holiday means chocker block traffic jams and once we had reached Moreton in the Marsh the road snarled to a halt, so a detour via the villages of Swells was needed to get back to the Stow on the Wold road….then bang…straight into another snarl up and so another detour through the Slaughters, another delightful village which itself was having a fete. Entry into Bourton on the Water was unhindered however and we arrived at two thirty!

Bourton Football (5)

Water on the pitch

People swarmed around the village like the bees at such a honey pot, but finding a place by the ‘pitch side’ was surprisingly easy and so being a nice day, with the river Windrush peacefully flowing, it was not difficult to seat for a few minutes for the game to begin. At four, the teams moved their goals into the water and the crowds, several thousand of them, thronged banks. Those close to the edge wisely wearing water proofs, in most years I am sure this would be standard considering our bank holiday weather!

Bourton Football (15)

  Football leagues under the water

The team wore no special uniform, not even wellies, but the referee was dressed in a pokadot dress, pink blouse, blonde wig and holding an umbrella…and yes it was a man – a water football tradition.  Although this did largely seem a game without rules, after all how could you judge an improper tackle when obscured by a fan of water? Goal!The goals were moved into the water and the team prepared splashing each other to get over the cold. The whistle blew and the serious splashing begun. Indeed, for the first half the players took considerable pleasure in making sure that the crowds, especially those in the middle it seemed, that they got very wet more than any actual play. In some cases it became clear that some well known faces..to the team members…were getting more than their fair share of water. At first people kept to the banks, but realising that there was less chance of getting soaked in the water crowds gathered behind the goals or so they thought! I overheard one boy sagely state ‘ I don’t think much of these seats they’re very wet’

Took a dive

The half-time whistle blew and wet jerseys were swapped. Sitting were I was I had felt fall brunt of the a  ball soaking so I decided at one point to position myself in the river near one of the goals. Good idea for a photo, bad idea for keeping dry. Soon I watched through the view finder, the players getting nearer and a nearer and looking down the ball was at my feet…and within seconds so were the players. I was even more drenched then before and this time a sizeable portion of the River Windrush entered my mouth! Great action pictures with the water smears!

Bourton Football (16)

It was difficult to follow what the score was. There’s no commentary. You would not be able to hear anyhow, the screams of laughter were too loud. Cheers went out when the goals were scored, and they came thick and fast in the second half when the teams appear to have got their ‘water’ wings. Then the final whistle was blown and the team threw themselves into the water in exhaustion. I could see why the game is only thirty minutes…ninety minutes in the water would be tiring to say the least. The goals were removed to the banks and the teams went off for an early bath. Bourton on the Water Water football have distilled in a way all the things which typify the English: picturesque village, Football and transvestitism. Long may it play!    

Bourton Football (2)

Copyright Pixyledpublications if you’d like to use the photos contact me.

Custom demised: Pinch bum day: a child’s view of Oak Apple day

Standard

Oak Apple day was a nationally celebrated event which commemorated the restoration of Charles II and his escape by hiding in an oak tree. It was an official day that was to be celebrated around the county, and some places still organise events on or around this date,  but generally outside of these places its main observance the wearing of oak leaves or more precisely oak apples (oak wasp galls) has disappeared. Across the country, this custom was particularly upheld by children not perhaps necessarily because of any keenness of the monarch but perhaps for the joint pleasure of a half day holiday from school. The common rhyme had different variants according to the local name from it.

“Royal Oak Day, 29th May.

If you don’t give us a holiday.

We run away”.

Wilson (1940) notes that at Windermere Grammar School, the day was called Yak Bob Day, where although it was seen as a holiday the master decided to ignore this and so with protests falling on deaf ears the older boys bolted and barricaded the windows and doors to the school. With the boys chanting the above chant except obviously the first line, the teachers were unable to enter and the holiday was restored.

It was also popular as a result of the ability to admonish those who had forgotten! Like a student who has forgot its non-uniform day, such students were the target of a wide range of penalties. The most common appears to be pinch bottom day. When those not wearing had their bottoms pinched! This was particularly popular in mixed schools and various accounts tell of rather over-enthusiastic boys getting in trouble. The reason for pinching bottoms comes from a legendary story that Major Carless who was also up the tree prevents the king from falling out by pinching his bottom!School boys were particularly important in upholding the custom, probably because of the potential of causing mischief. Unsurprising, pinch bottom day was not particularly held up in boy’s school, where other penalties were given.   No more vigorous was the tradition upheld than at Nottingham High School where individuals not upholding the tradition where pelted with rotten eggs. The observance of this penalty fell into abeyance in the 1870s. Briscoe  a Nottinghamshire author notes:

“A more unpleasant custom prevailed in the northern portion of the county about twenty years ago. Those who did not conform to the usages of the “Royal Oak Day” were pelted with rotten eggs. In order  to be well supplied with the ” needful ” for that day the young men would hoard’ up hen eggs for about a couple of months before they would be brought into requisition, so that the eggs would become rotten before they were required. This custom was in time carried to such an extent that the ‘strong arm of the law’ was often brought into requisition to suppress it; the rough young folk pelting persons indiscriminately. Smaller eggs are still used by the school lads on ‘King Charles’ Day.’

More common was nettling! A Nottinghamshire author notes thatnettles used on people without a spray of leaves and adds that the wise boy wore his oak leaves, armed themselves with a stinging nettle and carried a few dock leaves for first aid just in case. This was carried on until noon. The schools were generally not appreciative of this tradition and at Hayton a correspondent of NFWI remembers their brother being canned on both hands for nettling a girl. The penalty ranged from the rather innocuous rubbing clothese with chalk and such the day was called Chalky Back Day to Cobbing’ or spitting as was done in Cornwall.

Sometimes, non wearers were simply berated such as at Gloucester College where they were called shig shags and interestingly at Kirkby Lonsdale as well as being beaten by oak branches they were called Tom Paine, after the noted ‘revolutionary and republican’.. According to Brand’s popular antiquities boys in Newcastle-upon-Tyne would taunt :

“Royal oak, The Whigs to provoke.”

Those who wore plane-tree leaves recieved:

“Plane-tree leaves, The Church folk are thieves.”

The customs appears to died out soon after 1859 when the day ceased to be a holiday. Reports suggest that the children’s observation survived into the 1870s, but bereft of the holiday aspect and perhaps the concerns of parents the custom has completely died out. Perhaps for the good eh?