Category Archives: Royal

Custom survived: Royal Maundy Thursday

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Maundymoney (14)

Royal events are a special kind of event. When combined with a calendar custom it can really create a spectacular event, certainly in the amount of interest shown by all and sundry and especially the world’s media. Whereas the Haxey Hood might create a few minutes on the TV’s local news; Royal Maundy can sometimes be fully televised. Royal events also attract a special kind of person as well.

Royally treated!

Top Tip. Royal events attract a lot of people as well. Maundy is perhaps the most pre-Televised event as well. So you have to get there early. My first experience of Maundy Thursday was at Derby in 2009 which in retrospect was a good choice as a later Maundy did not let me experience much of the custom first hand.

It was an early Maundy. March had a considerable chill exacerbated by standing around for so long for the Royal party’s arrival. The experience being improved by the crowd and their curious idiosyncrasies. Royal events attract a certain type of follower. Royalist to the core. Dedicated to the Queen and very keen to show it. You would not see a Morris follower decked out in whites and bells turn up to May Day event waving their white handkerchief at the dancers or a Mummer fan dressed in drag awaiting the arrival of Dame Jane! No! But here surrounded me were the Royal followers, the Queenies, some were draped in the Union flag, another head to toe in a suit made from it. A small group of women had T shirts with the Queen emblazoned on it. However, my attention was drawn by two elderly men standing patiently at the front of the barrier. One saying to the other as they unfurled a large union flag ‘this will attract her’ as if somehow the Queen was a like a raging bull to the old Jack! They conversation then went rather curious “I wonder if it’ll be her Wakefield one said to another, could be her Manchester. I bet it’ll be the Westminster replied the other then.” What were they talking about, it was only when the Queen did arrive in a blue ensemble, that it was clear it was her clothing they were referring to and the locations the times they’d be at Maundy! All the time they referred to her as Liliput, an apparent childhood name of the Queen, said as if they’d just finished high tea with her that morning!

To be a Royal must require a great deal of patience I would reckon. The flag did attract here and she made a beeline to the men. Surprisingly to me one of the men struck up a conversation with her and she responded warming, the other dug into a bag, emblazoned with a flag of course, and brought out a large table book on the British Landscape, the sort of thing on remainder bookshelf. She took it graciously as would be expected, and handed it to a Lady in waiting. No wonder she has so many houses with rooms in it – she’d need it for all those gifts.

This is a stage managed event and even those not decked in the appropriate clothes were provided with a flag to wave at the Monarch when she arrived. Maundy is like so some of rock tour; the Queen appearing at every Cathedral in the Kingdom like some aged rocker ploughing out their greatest hits. However, there is no sign of a faded career here, the monarchy really pull out all the stops of pump and circumstance and the roadies are London’s Beefeaters.

Money, money, money

Many years ago my father was clearing some old draws of a Georgian desk at work once and found a Queen Anne coin. It was unusual having a large number 2 on one side and the other the Queen with a wreath around it. It took a few years to find out it was a Maundy coin, one of the first set because until the 18th century during William and Mary, the coins given were circulating coinage, the modern coinage has not changed par the monarch’s head of course. These coins struck in denomination of one penny, two pence, three pence and four pence and presented in a leather purse. The money counts up to the monarch’s age and another purse has a £5 coin and 50p. Originally, the poorest received it but today it those in the church communities recommended by the clergy for their service to the church and community.

Maundymoney (25)

Maundy, maundy, maundy

Based on Jesus’s direction, maundatum, at the last supper, originally the ceremony was one for high churchmen such as Archbishops and the Pope and involved the washing of feet, called pedilavium, as well as giving alms to the poor. This ceremony then moved to the monarchy The custom started with possibly the least likely Monarch – King John. Much maligned he distributed clothes, food and forks (!) to the poor in the Yorkshire town of Knaresborough as well as washing their feet. This was in 1210. However, by 2013 whilst visiting Rochester in Kent, coins had been minted for 13 poor residents to represent the twelve apostles. By Edward I the monarch was giving monies exclusively only on Maundy Thursday. The custom evolved over time, by the late 1300s, Edward III was giving money related to their age. He was fifty and gave fifty pence to fifty poor men, however, it was not until Henry IV, that this feature now part of the current distributions became established.

The custom survived pestilence and Reformation. During plague times, the Lord High Almoner was sent and nosegays of flowers held to cover the smell of those feet that needed to be washed! These nosegays survive as part of the custom today. Despite differing views both Mary and Elizabeth both performed the custom, although the washing of the feet started to become less done by the monarch. However, Charles I was less enthusiastic and indeed Charles II appeared to use the custom as a means to restore popularity of the restored Monarchy after the Restoration. The custom however was sporadic whilst James II performed it, William III less so and by this time, the washing of the feet had disappeared and more often the Lord High Almoner did it.

By the 20th century, the Monarch was absent. The royal presence returned with George V in 1932 and as such we could see this as a revived custom. The Monarch has continued the custom with Elizabeth naturally being the longest running. Originally the custom was held in the London area, the moved to alternating between another Cathedral and Westminster. Then developed into a grand tour of all the Cathedrals in the Kingdom…finishing in 2017 with Leicester!

Maundymoney (19)

Leicester was the second time I attended and the crowds were much larger, much much larger! Unlike Derby, where one could get close to the actual ceremony the whole area around the cathedral was blocked off but a huge screen showed all of it. Realising the route wouldn’t afford a good view of the Queen, I though where is she coming from? The train station and so made my way there to find no-one there. Was she arriving there? Yes, there was a man dressed head to toe in the Union flag again clutching flowers. We did not have long to wait soon all the regular passengers disappeared and the Queen arrived. She could be clearly seen if only I had a large flag or a book on British landscapes!

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Custom survived: Ashbourne Shrovetide Football

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Keep the ball out of churchyards, the cemetery and the Memorial Gardens Do not trespass on other people’s property You must not intentionally cause harm to others The ball must not be hidden in bags or rucksacks The ball must not be transported in, or on, motorised vehicles.”

So are the rules of the ancient game of Shrovetide in Ashbourne, Derbyshire. Standing at the throwing in stand which for 363 days sits rather pointlessly in the town’s car park the organiser reminded the throng below him these rules….but within 10 minutes it had ended up in the cemetery

Up’ard and down’ard

There is a festival feeling in Ashbourne with town proclaiming the day with bunting. An odd festival feeling with all the shops and houses on the main streets boarded up that is. That said, this is not a war zone but everyone is excited and in the nearby hall a big meal is being held. The crowds await outside. Then after some rapturous applause. Like most mob games football is a bit of misnomer. It was hugged, punched and rolled but rarely kicked. Once I stood there motionless, like a rabbit stuck in headlights, as the ball rolled towards me and between my legs. A few seconds later a mass of men came my way shouting ‘get out the way’ or something like that! I soon jumped to the side and the ball disappeared under a mass of writhing men.

It all starts rather incongruously in a car park at the back of the shops…in truth the only large space in the town. Here is a large platform, redundant for 363 days, but today no card but people. Tourists look over from the edge, in the centre excited and waiting. After the aforementioned announcements as above, the ball was thrown in, or turned up in the local language….and of it went over the heads of the crowd and then disappeared into. The scrum held for a while, someone broke through and then went into the cemetery!

As soon as the ball was retrieved from the cemetery it found its way into the pool beside the park. At first eager members tried to use the branches to precariously perch themselves and lean over the water to get it…I winced…had they not seen the public information films from the 70s…and then plop in the water. It must have been cold..one then two, then three risked the cold depths. Soon there was a struggle for the ball in the water and then a cheer as it was hit skyward. Not enough.

Again the town divides teams into two geographical locations: Up’ards (north of the River Henmore) and the Down’ards (south). This was clearly a necessity to get a team together back in the day but nowadays anyone joins in and it’s a bit irrelevant..

On the head mate

Although called football, the Ashbourne game like many similar games is not often kicked but scrummed. Indeed it appears to have been called hugball, at some time and is believed to date from mediaeval times, although finding exact date is unknown, exacerbated by the fact that in the 1890s the archive was destroyed

One interesting theory states that the ball was originally a severed head thrown into the crowd after an execution – it seems unlikely to be honest!

The current ball is a large and beautiful item, sadly quickly smeared and obscured by the grasp of many hands. Often it is painted, a common image is that of the Cockayne coat of Arms: three cocks. This itself is interesting and was traced in 2012 to a game called La Soule played on the first Sunday of Lent and Easter Monday in the Picardy town of Tricot. Why? Because Tricot’s emblem is three cockerels . Coincidence possibly not and that

What is also unusual is that this is a two day game each day starting at 2 and going on until 10.00pm; but if the ball is goaled before half five it starts all over again! They do like their game! This goal consists of hitting the milestone this goal three times…when done, always under the cover of darkness, cheers erupt and the winner is carried on the crowd’s shoulders back to the pubs in the town.

I’ve never made it too the end mind. The cold keeps putting me off! They are made of tough stuff in Ashbourne.

Custom occasional: Abingdon Bun Throwing

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Abingdon has a custom which has been undertaken rather on and off over 200 years. Principally associated with Royal events its irregularity means that it does not fit the categories on this blog so I have made a new category – custom occasional!

How did this curious custom begin? Abingdon claims its unique. In the way it does of course, but there are other bun throws such as that I recorded at Wath upon Dearne. It may not have started as bun throwing and it is suggested that it may have been a dole probably done to recognise the importance of the event it was associated with. During the 1760 for George III coronation, a John Waite records catching a cake thrown from the Market House. The Borough Minutes of 1831 record that 500 penny cakes distributed. In the Abingdon Herald’s it states that:

500 cakes … were thrown from the tops of houses into the dirt to be scrambled for, in accordance with ancient usage”.

From 1761 until 2016 34 bun throws have been done of these 27 have been for Royal occasions – 8 coronations, 6 jubilees, 5 birthdays, 4 marriages, 2 anniversaries of a marriage and one Royal visit. Other events have been celebrated by buns such as VE Day and its 50th anniversary and the end of the Crimean War or Charter days and even an International Day. In the museum can be seen evidence of the last 17 bun throwings, the earliest being from 1887 Golden Jubilee of Victoria. The museum was closed on the day unfortunately. The number of bun throws appear to have increased in the year, possibly as a result of a wise tourist drive – nothing wrong with that of course!

Bun time for all

I turned up a few hours earlier to see the town preparing. Abingdon is a classic town – a real life Trumpton and as such I expected Trumptonesque activities For of course it was not just bun throwing to keep the crowd happy the organisers had put on some other entertainments. Very Trumptonlike with Town Crier, band and Morris.

One of the attendees was morning about the need for signs for the ingredients of the buns and morning ‘EU regulation’. I smiled wryly…although I noted there wasn’t a sign saying ‘don’t eat the ones on the floor’.

As the crowds begun to assemble, the local band cheerfully entertained them from everything from Hope and Glory to Sex Bomb! As we approached nearer to launch time, it was time for the famed Abingdon Morris Men to appear with their Bull mascot, sword and pewter mug. They enthralled those assembled with their dances and this was a good advert for their more famous Mock Mayor custom the week after. The crowd looked very responsive to them and so no doubt that boded well for the following week!

Whilst this was going on Union Jack flags were enthusiastic delivered through the crowd with children leaping on the opportunity to give them a way and occasionally poke an eye out no doubt.

Then a small procession came to the town hall attended by the Mayor, the town dignitaries, local MP and the winners of a furthest bun throwing competition a few weeks earlier!

The band then struck up the National Anthem and the crowd sung. And yes in the crowd, there was that embarrassing moment where no one remembers the words to the second verse! Then there was a cheer as they turn around and ascended the town hall. A few minutes later they appeared on the roof.

Bun fight

In what appeared an aeon, peppered with false starts teasing the crowd, limbering up and chants of ‘we want buns’, the later could be misinterpreted Versailles style!

“please do not use upturned umbrellas’ You don’t see signs like that everyday do you? But it was clear that one of the greatest aspects of bun throwing is the chance to catch as many as possible. However, there was no unruly scramble, this was genteel Oxfordshire after all.

Then the clock struck 7 and we were off. And some off it was literally raining buns. There was no let off. Over 2500 were being launched and it felt like it. The sky was almost darkened over with buns! Catching them was another matter. One bounced off my shoulder and another with some force hit me squarely on the head ‘ouch’. Some people were clearly having greater luck. A girl behind had about eight and we were only four minutes in! Two children had baseball gloves..very ingenious!

Then I began having luck and soon caught a special celebratory bun with 90 piped onto it. I appeared to be the only one I found one I noticed in the same area, so I did not know how many were being released but I would imagine 90. So if so catching 1 out of 90 out of the 2500 was I suppose a bit of a chance happening. The sound of excitement was getting fever pitch and more and more buns fell from the sky and then 15 minutes in the sky cleared. No more buns. The crowd cheers and began to dispersed. Around me there were lots of grinning children clutching their happy hoards…and off everyone went…roll on the 100th?

Custom revived: Stir Up Sunday

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“Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The first sentence of this passage of the Common Book of Prayer appears to be rationale behind the establishment of a curious domestic custom, called Stir-up Sunday. This was a custom that arose to recognise the Sunday before Advent.

As most fruit cakes and puddings taste better let to stand it was a likely one to connect to the day, especially with the added pun of fruit in it! It is thought that as cooks, wives and servants going to church would hear this and after hearing this would rush home and make a pudding.

 Raisin to the occasion!

The custom involves the making of the Christmas pudding. This is traditionally made of 12 ingredients to represent the 12 apostles and stirred East to West to represent the journey of the Wise Men. Each member of the family must stir the pudding and whilst doing it a wish is made.

The custom was said to have originated from Victoria and Albert however a London tradition associated with the day suggests it might have an older origin or else an older custom became fused to it. One of the only non-domestic traditions associated with the Day is the Temple Inn’s Queen’s Pudding. A newspaper report in the Mail from the 16th December 1944 record the legend:

The pudding is a link with the days of another Queen Elizabeth. It seems that Good Queen Bess was taking a stroll through the gardens of the Temple when the smell of cooking assailed the Royal nostrils. She, tracked the smell to the Middle Temple kitchen. .There she found the cook preparing a pudding for the judges, barristers, and students to eat that night. History doesn’t say if she rolled up her sleeves, but it does all ere that she stirred the pudding: The cook didn’t throw away? what was left over after the meal. He kept it, and used it as the base for the next pudding. His successors have been doing the same each year for the past350 years, so the chances of Queen Elizabeth getting any of the original pudding would be mighty slim.”

Although the author probably did not know much about atoms! Apparently some time obviously after this date I assume, someone threw away all the pudding or scoffed it all thus ending this 350 odd year old tradition. But then, a visit by Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, provided the answer in the 1970s. A pudding was provided and she dutifully stirred it! However, in communication with the Temple they informed me that it had not been done for many years. I imagine the pudding was too good to not eat! But the loss was probably in line with the demise of the custom in general.

Bowled out

The custom is a domestic and private one, so it is difficult to gauge how it is upheld, however the rise of the shop bought pudding appears to have in the latter half of the 20th century saw the demise of the custom. My mother was a keen cook and she never prepared one.  A survey in 2007 stated that two-thirds of British children had never made a pudding from scratch and certainly as the 21st century continued the downward trend to its demise..and then in a culture of TV bake-off unsurprisingly it has returned and it is everywhere. In 2007 even the Government got involved. Celebrity chef from Raymond Blanc to Jamie Oliver being pulled in to save the pudding!  The later stating:

“Stir Up Sunday is a great way for families to start cooking together – it’s high time we brought the tradition back into our kitchens”

In the last few years I’ve been entering into the spirit. On the 23rd this year I opened the cupboard and compared with my ingredients list. Well I had the spices..that was it… so I hurried down to the shops. Struggling back through the rain I was ready and getting the bowl and scales, spoon and the most important ingredient – some young enthusiastic helpers – I set about it.

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They enjoyed measuring everything out, resisting all temptation of eating the dried fruit, cracking eggs and whisking. However, the stirring was a little beyond them especially working out the East to West..and they seemed to put off by the smell of the rum. Well at least it stopped them licking out the bowl. Then I poured the mixture into the bowl, then into a large saucepan, put on the lid and set it to steam. Two hours later or rather one and half later and I forgotten it and burnt the base…and I had a nice spongy pudding. I cut off the bit that was a bit burnt, that aside it tasted nice..the bits around it..not the pudding. No that was wrapped up put in a cupboard ready for Christmas! By this time of course I was on my own with the enterprise…they’ll be back in a month time to eat it no doubt!

I for once could see why a custom like this could die out! It was time consuming, but enjoyable and if I was to be honest much more expensive than buying a pre-made one. But money is not everything of course. Will the revival spread? Who’s to know, especially with 50% of young people not liking it! I was convinced mine would be nice but after all the proof of the pudding will be in the eating!