Tag Archives: Leicestershire

Custom survived: Loughborough’s November Fair

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“The People of Loughborough are very proud of their ancient Fair, dating back to the thirteenth century and held in the streets and squares of the town.”

World Fair 1949

Fairly old

There are many seasonal fairs but few are as old and as visually imposing as Loughborough’s November fair. It has survived in its town centre location fighting against all attempts over the years to marginalise and send it to some park or outskirts of the town despite the complaints of ‘as a Fair with a mile of caravans’

Loughborough famous for its University, Ladybird books, bell making and the first package tour in that order; is perhaps not the first location for an ancient fair yet it is the fourth oldest in the country. The fair was granted back in 1229 by Henry III and has been continuing albeit in the format now of a fun fair ever since. The record stating:

“Of the Market Of Loughborough The lord the King grants to Hugh Dispenser that He have ,until his (Lawful ) age ,one market every Week, on Thursday, at his manor of Loughborough. Unless that market and the Sheriff of Leicestershire Is ordered to cause him to have that market. Of the Fair of Loughborough. The lord the King grants to Hugh le Dispenser that He have until the (lawful) age of the lord the King One fair at his manor of Loughborough every year In the vigil and in the day of St Peter ad Vincula And the Sheriff of Leicestershire is ordered to cause him To have that fair. Witness as above by the same(at Westminster,xxviith day of January in the fifth year of our reign).”

This was the third Charter fair for the town, given to Hugh Le Despenser Lord of the Manor of Loughborough. The fair was associated with the Feast of All Souls, perhaps an unusual date for a fair. However, when the calendar was changed in 1752 it moved to the 13th of November. Then finally local authorities in 1881 made it fall on second Thursday in November.

Open it fairly

Opening ceremony is itself a custom in itself, It is open like other fairs by the Town’s mayor but unlike other fairs where they are called to order by the ringing of the bell by a town crier, Loughborough does something fairly unique.

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The local Grammar School itself a mere youngster compared, starting in 1595, provides three or four, smartly dressed trumpeters in suits and red ties. First they announce the Mayoral party outside the town hall and then go to the steps of the Waltzer where the Mayor of Charnwood officially calls the fair open. It is a decidedly medieval feel to the opening and quite fitting.

A fair change

Originally a cloth fair and wool. Then horses, cow and sheep. By the late Victorian period the invention of steam powered amusements meant that these were slowly taking over the trading fair until today they dominate it.

Interesting shows over the years have been the Phantoscope, a sort of cinema, a boxing booth and a lion show. Making today’s dodgems, ghost trains and spinners sound rather boring!

By the 1920s after a spell when the November streets were quiet due to WWI the fair saw the arrival exciting spectacles such as the Wall of Death. Indeed, the 1929 Leicester Mail romantically reported:

“That most ancient form of diversion, the fair, is still attractive because it appeals to the people’s robust sense of fun … Thousands of people are attracted to the town to participate, much to their own and other people’s enjoyment … if they remove it from the centre of the town it would dwindle and decay as so many other fairs have done, and an old age channel that has brought grist to the town would be permanently closed. So Loughborough as a whole, is not only disposed to grin and bear it, but to welcome it somewhat in the spirit of the song that bids us `Come to the fair.”

By the 1940s the side attractions which once were the main attractions were gone and the establishment of Ghost trains and dodgems and the establishment of families such as Collins’, Proctor’s and Holland which gave the fair a real feel of an annual reunion. In 2014 according to the Loughborough Echo the fair:

The Star Flyer will be one of 20 massive rides brought along by the more than 100 show people along with other attractions, games, novelty stalls and refreshment stands. The fair, which spreads throughout the town centre, is organised by Charnwood Borough Council and attracts thousands of families. Pleasure rides this year include fairground favourites such as the Waltzers, Loop Fighter, Dodgems and Galloping Horses as well as more spectacular rides such as the Dominator and Extreme Ride. There is the ‘Kiddies’ Corner’ and perhaps one or two surprise attractions.”

And so it continues. The roads may have been closed off permanently now by pedestrianisation but this does not distract from the amazing site of these huge metal leviathans sitting cheek by jowl to the shop fronts. Every space is filled. Every side street. Like a maze and a cacophony of sound and blaze of light. The food. The lure of hook a duck, with a prize cheaper than that in the pound shop perhaps, but we still keep trying. All the fun of the fair is so true at Loughborough

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Custom Survived: William Hubbard Graveside Easter Singing, Market Harborough, Leicestershire

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An Easter Custom. — On each recurring Easter Eve, in pursuance of a custom which has continued for more than a century (and which, as a fund was left for the purpose, will continue for centuries to come), the church choir of Market Harborough visit the ‘God’s Acre’ of St. Mary’s, and sing at midnight the beautiful Easter hymn over the grave of Mr. Hubbard, the founder of the chantry of that name.”

The History of Market- Harborough in Leicestershire and its vicinity by William Harrod (1808)

On the outskirts of Market Harborough is a ghostly shell of a church twixt between an industrial site, the railway station and the urban sprawl. Surrounded by a few graves it is a mysterious place. There are many such derelict churches open to the elements slowly decaying, unvisited all bar the curious- this one is an exception though for despite being a ruin once year on the evening before Easter Sunday this desolate place is warmed by the sounds of heavenly voices in a custom which has been done for over 200 years.

Willed to sing

The originator of this unique bequest was William Hubbard, a gardener and more importantly churchwarden. When he died in 1786, aged 63 his will stipulated:

“at the decease of his wife to the Singers of Harborough for the time being for ever the sum of One Guinea yearly on condition of their finding over his grave every Easter eve the EASTER HYMN the said guinea to be paid out of the rent of a house now in the tenure of Mr Clark painter &c In cafe the singers should neglect complying with the donor’s desire the said legacy is to be applied to purchasing shoes for widows.”

Sadly those local widows have shoeless because without fail the congregation of the more substantial St. Dionysius church dutifully come here every Easter Saturday to sing since 1807, presumably the death date of his widow. That guinea has gone a long way! I am not sure whether it pays for anything now but in 1957 a rent charge was still being taken.

Sing when you’re winning!

When I first came to experience this custom, it was a balmy Easter Saturday in 1996, 7th of April. The churchyard was quiet, mysterious and unloved. I located the grey slate gravestone of William Hubbard and waited.

Soon a small choir appeared. Arched around the grave the vicar, curate and choir made a fine sight in themselves but when the hymns were sung it was magical.

1996

2016 – Spot the difference!

Obviously it is a short service. It started with Chorus novae Jerusalem

“Ye choirs of new Jerusalem, your sweetest notes employ, the Paschal victory to hymn in strains of holy joy. For Judah’s Lion bursts his chains, crushing the serpent’s head; and cries aloud through death’s domains to wake the imprisoned dead. Devouring depths of hell their prey at his command restore; his ransomed hosts pursue their way where Jesus goes before. Triumphant in his glory now to him all power is given; to him in one communion bow all saints in earth and heaven. While we, his soldiers, praise our King, his mercy we implore, within his palace bright to bring and keep us evermore. All glory to the Father be, all glory to the Son, all glory, Holy Ghost, to thee, while endless ages run.”

Then a reading is given in 2016, the Gospel for Easter was Matthew 27 a very adapt piece about Jesus’s burial:

“As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.

The Guard at the Tomb: The next day, the one after Preparation Day, the chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate. Sir,” they said, “we remember that while he was still alive that deceiver said, ‘After three days I will rise again.’ So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead. This last deception will be worse than the first.” “Take a guard,” Pilate answered. “Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.” So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting the guard.”

The Easter Hymn was sung

“Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! our triumphant holy day, Alleluia! who did once upon the cross, Alleluia! suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia! Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia! unto Christ, our heavenly King, Alleluia! who endured the cross and grave, Alleluia! sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia! But the pains which he endured, Alleluia! our salvation have procured, Alleluia! now above the sky he’s King, Alleluia! where the angels ever sing. Alleluia!”

Then an Easter Collect and Prayer finishing with a sung grace

“Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”

Eighteen years later passing this way I came to again experience it. However, my sources were incorrect and I’d missed it by an hour! Finally, again in 2016 I came again, on a most appalling Easter evening. Dark clouds were building up and the wind howled through the ghost of the church. After a while I was beginning to think my sources had been incorrect, had the weather put them off…no soon more and more people arrived. The first thing I noticed is how much the congregation had grown since 1996; despite the awful weather it was clear that this custom was still a popular one…and even the dreadful rain was not going to stop the custom. In 1984, so Brian Shuel in his Traditional Customs of Britain was informed by the vicar:

“in really nasty weather, such as the previous year when it was snowing, they have been known to do it themselves”

It did not stop them, nor did it in 1876 as a local newspaper reports:

“Easter Eve – The old custom to sing the Easter hymn over Mr. Hubbard’s grave, in St. Mary’s burial ground, was carried out again on Saturday last, at 8.30, by the church choir. To get to the grave yard this year there was something very unusual. The waters, from the rapid melting of the snow which had fallen on the two preceding days, were out, near the Toll-gate and Gas works, but this obstruction was bravely encountered by about thirty of the choir, besides a few others. Many more who intended to go, declined, when they got to the end of the walk, not liking to got through the flood, and returned again to the town. One gentleman was kindly carried over the flood by a young man named Toomes. This little incident amused the choir boys and one of them was overheard to whisper, ‘I wish he’d drop him.’ We understand this is the 70th year that the above custom has been carried out.”

The only shame was that the weather had prevented the congregation wearing their traditional choral attire. Yet in a way it made the custom seem even more bizarre.

Before the Reformation, sung songs and prayers were common from chapels to great Cathedrals, but although these Chantry chapels survive the bequests have long gone, siphoned off to support schools such as Thomas Burton’s in Loughborough or incorporated into general funds. What is of course unusual with Hubbard is that this is a post-Reformation one. Little did he also know that he think that when he made the bequest that the church would fall into disuse and ruin. Yet this is part of the curious nature of the custom, despite the church and the possible temptation of removing the grave to somewhere more convenient the custom continues.

All in all, Hubbard’s bequest is without doubt one of the countries, a beautiful uplifting tribute to a man long forgotten but still remembered!

Custom contrived: The Bluebell Service, Swithland Woods, Leicestershire

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“Strangers enjoying an afternoon stroll in Swithland Woods on Sunday might have been surprised to hear the strains of All Things Bright and Beautiful coming through the trees near the old slate quarry.”

Loughborough Echo 14th May 1993

Indeed, almost hidden in a natural amphitheatre beside a great water filled hollow can be found around two hundred worshipers – why are they there? What are they waiting for? A service which is possibly unique in England yet surprisingly still little known – the annual Bluebell service.

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If you go down to the woods today

Arriving at the north car park to the wood, the existence of the event, one follows the small blue signs. I must admit during my half hour or so walk, I did not see a single blue flower. This was despite seeing great swaths of them on the way, particularly in Stoneywell Wood. This might not have been a one off. S. R. Meadows in the 1965 Swithland noted that in an early ceremony an early spring had meant there were no flowers in the woods and the Vicar had to:

admit the bluebells had already come and departed. Whereupon a Salvation army lady, who had attended the corps band stepped boldly forward and presented him with a single bloom, which appropriately she had saved for him.”

All things bright and beautiful

The custom begun soon after the estate was given to the public in the 1920s. The area had long been known as a beauty spot, where bluebells proliferated in great number and so the Rotary Club decided to instigate an annual event. It was a Walter Kilby and a Mr Harry Gimson who conceived the idea of the service with Reverend Frederick Oliver, then vicar of Swithland in 1928 and it has been going ever since then. Indeed until recently, the daughter and the daughter in law of the founders still attended. A search of copies of the Leicestershire mercury or Loughborough Echo recording such regular annual devotion. In 1997 14th May the Leicester Mercury, noted that a Mrs Gweneth Gimson:

“has been present at every single Bluebell service.”

The Leicester Mercury reported on the 6th May 1998 adding next year:

“Swithland churchwarden, Mrs Gweneth Gimson 85 first attended as a 13 year old girl when the service begun in 1927.”

Although the Loughborough Echo of 13th May 1994, suggests that:

“played the harmonium for the service at the age of 10!”

The paper claims that she had been present at every one forget that in 1993 it was noted that:

“Mrs Gweneth Gimson, who has supervised the event for many years, was missing as she suffered an accident at home.”

Fortunately, as it was later testament she did regularly attend thereafter. I did not enquire whether she still attended, she’d be 101, but I am sure she would be there in spirit. Regular attendance is clearly an important aspect of any custom and especially this one. Even when there is a clear threat of rain or in the 1990s murder as the paper stated:

“The worship is expected to go ahead as planned despite the inquiry into the fatal stabbing of Leicester man Esmail Hassan whose body was discovered in the woods just over a week ago.”

Coming up smelling of…bluebells!

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In the small amphitheatre I found the congregation, some were in rows of seats, many with their dogs sat on the hill behind them. In front of them was an outside altar, a table covered with a cloth with a sizeable silver crucifix upon it. There was the vicar of Swithland church, the Mayor and Lady Mayoress and a brass band from Welbeck College. The service which was pleasantly succinct and under an hour long – perhaps they feared the rain – was very focused on giving homage to nature. Guest preachers have varied over the time and in I1997, The Bishop of Leicester, the right Rev. Dr. Thomas Butler was the preacher. The year I attended, the guest was xxxx. The sermon, short and focusing on amongst other things Leicester City’s triumphant Premier League win…a link to the blue of the bluebells! The knowledgeable sermon drew reference to some of the wonderful plants and animals around the woods. The sermon underlined the reason for the service perhaps as a correspondent recorded:

“It’s a country service for those who enjoy the countryside. In a way it’s a celebration of the Creation.”

An earlier Leicester Mercury reference also agreeing to consider that:

“As the sun shone through the delicate green leaves of late spring on the bluebells of Swithland wood on Sunday afternoon, it was not difficult to respond to the invitation from the preacher to ‘consider the flowers of the field’ which more wondrous than Soloman in his glory.”

Swithland (8)Swithland (9)I was particularly impressed by the volume of the singing from the congregation, albeit supported by an excellent choir and especially impressive considering the congregation was seated. Understandably All Things Bright and Beautiful was sung with great gusto. The service ended with a rousing rendition of the National anthem and it was easy to agree with the sentiment again of the Leicester Mercury which recorded:

“as singing the National Anthem to enjoy the bluebells in the afternoon sun, it was obvious that this event in Swithland had lost none of its appeal for visitors to the area.”

All in all an uplifting pause to consider the wonderful world around us and give thanks for it.

 

Custom demised: The Whipping Toms

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“‘Whipping-Toms’ began at one o’clock. Two, three, or more men, armed with cart-whips, and with a handkerchief tied over one eye, were let loose upon the people to flog anyone within the precincts of the Newark, a bellman giving the signal for the attack. They were not by custom allowed to whip above the knee, and anyone kneeling down was spared.”

So writes Thoresby in his 1791 The History of Leicester. A topical post perhaps what’s in the cinema! In Leicester city centre is a rather strange plaque which records the bizarre Shrove Tuesday custom of Whipping Toms. Why would these men whip people? Another account explains why:

“This was known as the ‘Whipping Toms’.  It began with the primeval game of hockey, played between two crowds of men and boys armed with sticks having a knob or a hook at the end, and were played with a wooden ball, the ends of the Newarke forming the goals. At about 1 o’clock in the day appeared the ‘Whipping Toms’; three of them were in blue smocked frocks and carrying long wagon whips, with whom were three men carrying small bells. They proceeded to drive out of the Newarke the crowd of men and boys who had been playing the game of hockey.”

One of the theories purported for the origins of the custom is that it commemorated the expulsion of the Danes from Leicester in the 10th century. Although unlikely a connection with the Danish custom of Hocktide is perhaps more likely as the custom involved the extortion for money as well. – two pence which many gladly gave! However, the date is confusing!

The Whipping Toms also liked to line people up and whip up and down the line. Often people attempted to avoid the whipping by wrapping material around their legs. However, the whipping clearly got out of hand and the ‘victims’ would attempt to protect themselves with sticks and fight back. Unsurprisingly it often got a little out of hand as the author above notes:

This proceeding, as may well be imagined, soon resulted in what would be described in more modern language as ‘a certain liveliness’, and the disorder became so great that about the year 1846, the corporation obtained parliamentary powers to bring it to an end.”

On the 16th February 1847 an Act of Parliament officially ended it and the last Whipping Toms put up a valiant fight – quite literally – but it was gone. Today the only record is the plaque on one of the corner pillars of the railings surrounding the De Montfort University’s Hawthorn Building.

Custom survived: Hallaton Hare Pie Scramble and Bottlekicking

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Beer, Pie and a fight…the average night out in town!

Hallaton Hare Pie
Hallaton is one of those villages if visited, outside Easter Monday, it would be quiet serene and probably completely empty…but go on Easter Monday and what a difference. In what could be described as the most verbose custom is actually two customs rolled into one..and if that was not enough, there’s a third tacked on too.
The idea of beer, pies and fights may be sometime familiar to those Friday nights in town, but I guess very few would be eating hare pie, drinking their beer from a small wooden casket, rescued from a fight were there are no rules.

The Hare pie being cut in 1994

The day starts ordinarily enough with a procession. The peace of the town being pierced by the sound of the bagpipes of the band and soon there appears the Warrener, suitably dressed in medieval custom. He carried aloft a pole which has a bronze hare affixed. Traditionally this was a live one caught and tied (presumably after being killed) to its end. I was lucky in 1994 to see this splendid sculpture on its first outing but it looked just as fine 10 years later! The most noticeable feature then are the three bottles, a mighty pie and a lady also suitably dressed with the basket of loaves.

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The pie emptied into bags in 2009

A happy participant enjoys the pie!

A happy participant enjoys the pie!

The crowd await the pie scarmble!

The crowd await the pie scarmble!

The first part of its name comes about in the morning. At the Procession’s arrival at the church, the hare pie is solemnly placed on a table at the gates of the church, blessed, and a crowd surround it ready for its distribution. A large knife is produced and given to the vicar who duly cuts into the hefty pastry and like any clergy worth his salt is keen to distribute it. However, this is no sermon on the mount, I don’t recollect Jesus grabbing the fishes and bread and then throwing them into the assembled crowd. Mind you if he had it might have gone even further. However throwing the pie, pasty and all occurs after great dollops are handed out to the crowd. Pie goes everywhere coat, hair and open mouths, people scramble to have a piece – good luck apparently coming with it. What’s left is then poured into a bag and tied up to disposed of later.

Gotta-Lotta-Bottle!

At the bank the crowds assemble to watch the sacks open and then swayed back and forward; empty ceremonially its contents upon the ground.

There is a sort of strange hush and one can feel the tension in the air. This is built up even more by the throwing up of the three bottles in succession by the Master of Stowe. Bottle one! Everyone waits. Bottle two! A few legs twitch and an. Bottle three! Then as it falls to the ground, it vanishes beneath a pile of heavy bodies. Somewhere in that mass is the bottle and we all await for its appearance. Screaming shouting and seething it appears we could wait a while for any movement. An elderly lady leans in to get a better photo and then bang! Someone breaks free! The bottle is in his arms. The crowds scatter. The old lady is cast to the floor, legs in the air, underwear for all to see. He body appears in tact if not her dignity!
The escapee does not get far and soon he is pounced upon by someone who appeared at first to be a spectator. Good tactic! Soon others join with the original man and his bottle as its nucleus, slowly it moves down towards a stream below.
The stream below is significant, for it is Hallaton’s goal a few yards below the Hare pie bank, at quite a steep incline. From this field, one cannot see Medbourne’s goal a field boundary some greater distance away, about a mile but uphill to get there, less steep and with two boundaries! At first this does not appear fair but surprisingly the worm turns and the scrum moves upwards. Their goal a hedge behind the bank, get there and it’s downhill to Medbourne’s goal. Soon after another breakaway to beyond the hedge, spectators and participants push, barge, trample and hurtle themselves over the hedge. Some climb the trees and somersault into the field beyond. Here the scrum reformed.

Not hare today gone tomorrow

The scrum push against the fence!

The scrum push against the fence!

The scrum swayed and heaved and despite the obvious help of gravity which would mean a Medbourne win, someone broke free from Hallaton and made a break to the Hallaton goal. The assembled mob appeared a little confused at first and then in a few seconds like some giant amoeba poured towards the fence separating the fields. A great mass of humanity pushed dangerously upon this sturdy fence, a call came out to pour it back..too late, crack, it gave way followed by members of the scrum tumbling headlong onto the mud and mire below. There was a gate nearby could they not used this I thought. Now the barrier was breached and it only needed one person to break free with the bottle. It happened and off they went the stream in their sights. A few tackles appeared not to stop him but gave him greater velocity, he slipped, he fell and begun to appear to cartwheel downwards. However, his passage was not completely free. Getting ahead of him I stood by the bank ready for a photo. I was not the only one so were the Medbourners. Just at the last moment the grabbed him and tried to force him uphill, but the muddy bank edge was in his favour, he slipped and the bottle fell into the stream. A cry went out especially from the pub overlooking, but we it’s not over! Best of three.

We return to the bank and slightly worse for wear the participants await and we are off again! The scrum again envelopes the bottle and it heaves and pushes, occasionally there is a gulp of air and a hand thrown up, for despite any real rules, the crowd respect the need to relieve someone and the scrum disassembles and the weary person stumbles out. Broken bones can often be the trophy of the day but in one sad occasion recently a fatality, although his death was not directly related to the scrum.

And its gone...the scrum tumble over!

And its gone…the scrum tumble over!

This contest appears to be clearer cut. Had the Hallaton crew got the wind up their revivals by the first goal- two out of three a Hallaton win! It seemed so. Soon the bottle was back in the stream. Despite being an ‘easy win’ for the village other times Medbourne were the winners perhaps because anyone outside the village, such as professional rugby players, join the competition.

After the game, participants and spectators return to the village. Those players who put in an especially good effort (for example, carrying a barrel across the goal stream or holding on to a barrel for quite some time) are helped up onto the top of the ten-foot-tall Buttercross, and the opened bottle is passed up for them to drink from before being passed around the crowd.

Pie in the sky notions?

Like other street or mob football customs, the origins of the custom are difficult to trace. The earliest written record appears to be in 1698 from a Glebe terrier which records a hare pie bank. A local tradition tells that a raging bull was and came charging towards two women, it was then startled by a hare Local lore claims that the custom began when two ladies of Hallaton were saved from a raging bull by a startled hare, who distracted the bull from charging. They showed their gratitude to God for sending the hare by donating money to the church on the understanding that every Easter Monday, the vicar would provide a hare pie, twelve penny loaves, and 2 barrels of beer for the poor of the village who then would fight for them. The provision by the church continued until 1962 meaning that there may have been some found basis in the charity if not the legend.
It is probable that the competition only involved the H

allaton villagers who would fight each other for the food and drink! The Medbourne villagers apparently once stole one of the bottles and hence after a tussle to regain it, they became a regular part of the event. Although it may be more likely that the event arose from some pagan rivalry between neighbouring tribes and that the bull is possibly significant and perhaps the object they fought over was the head of the bull!
Some authorities drawn reference to the hare aspect and of course hare hunting was often undertaken at the time. This may be because this usual corpuscular creature is very often seen frolicking in the fields at March and so became easy game. Folklorists would prefer to believe that it was a sacrifice to the Saxon Goddess Eostre. You decide.

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Certainly, it is easy to see a pagan origin to the Bottle kicking. Although it is known that land called Hare crop leys was given in 1771 to provide for the expenses, the association of a St Morrell’s chapel being positioned on the Hare pie bank is significant. It is possible that the chapel was built on a old pagan site to Christianise it. However, the Christian connection with the contest has since been up-and-down with a famous rector attempting to cancel the hare pie and discourage the bottle kicking in 1790. A local tale states that the next day a sign on the vicarage wall read “No pie, no parson and a job for glazier”. Since then there does not appear to have been any notable priestly disapproval indeed the local clergy appeared to enjoy the event greatly..

 

– images copyright Pixyled Publications