OLD CUSTOMS THAT ARE VANISHING

<< THE DISAPPEARANCE OF OLD DOCUMENTS

THE VANISHING OF ENGLISH SCENERY >>

black art, scandals, barbarous punishments, weird customs that prevailed at man's

most important ceremonies, his baptism, marriage and burial, the binding of

apprenticeships, obsolete trades, such as that of the person who is styled "aquavity

man" or the "saltpetre man," the mode of settling quarrels and disputes, duels,

sports, games, brawls, the expenses of supplying a queen's household, local

customs and observances--all these find a place in these amazing records. In short,

there is scarcely any feature of the social life of our forefathers which is not

abundantly set forth in our parish registers. The loss of them would indeed be great

and overwhelming.

As we have said, many of them have been lost by fire and other casualties, by

neglect and carelessness. The guarding of the safety of those that remain is an

anxious problem. Many of us would regret to part with our registers and to allow

them to leave the church or town or village wherein they have reposed so long.

They are part of the story of the place, and when American ladies and gentlemen

come to find traces of their ancestors they love to see these records in the village

where their forefathers lived, and to carry away with them a photograph of the

church, some ivy from the tower, some flowers from the rectory garden, to preserve

in their western homes as memorials of the place whence their family came. It

would not be the same thing if they were to be referred to a dusty office in a distant

town. Some wise people say that all registers should be sent to London, to the

Record Office or the British Museum. That would be an impossibility. The officials

of those institutions would tremble at the thought, and the glut of valuable books

would make reference a toil that few could undertake. The real solution of the

difficulty is that county councils should provide accommodation for all deeds and

documents, that all registers should be transcribed, that copies should be deposited

in the county council depository, and that the originals should still remain in the

parish chest where they have lain for three centuries and a half.

CHAPTER XVIII

OLD CUSTOMS THAT ARE VANISHING

Many writers have mourned over the decay of our ancient customs which the

restlessness of modern life has effectually killed. New manners are ever pushing

out the old, and the lover of antiquity may perhaps be pardoned if he prefers the

more ancient modes. The death of the old social customs which added such

diversity to the lives of our forefathers tends to render the countryman's life one

continuous round of labour unrelieved by pleasant pastime, and if innocent

pleasures are not indulged in, the tendency is to seek for gratification in

amusements that are not innocent or wholesome.

The causes of the decline and fall of many old customs are not far to seek.

Agricultural depression has killed many. The deserted farmsteads no longer echo

with the sounds of rural revelry; the cheerful log-fires no longer glow in the

farmer's kitchen; the harvest-home song has died away; and "largess" no longer

rewards the mummers and the morris-dancers. Moreover, the labourer himself has

changed; he has lost his simplicity. His lot is far better than it was half a century

ago, and he no longer takes pleasure in the simple joys that delighted his ancestors

in days of yore. Railways and cheap excursions have made him despise the old

games and pastimes which once pleased his unenlightened soul. The old labourer is

dead, and his successor is a very "up-to-date" person, who reads the newspapers

and has his ideas upon politics and social questions that would have startled his less

cultivated sire. The modern system of elementary education also has much to do

with the decay of old customs.

Still we have some left. We can only here record a few that survive. Some years

ago I wrote a volume on the subject, and searched diligently to find existing

customs in the remote corners of old England.61 My book proved useful to Sir

Benjamin Stone, M.P., the expert photographer of the House of Commons, who

went about with his camera to many of the places indicated, and by his art produced

permanent presentments of the scenes which I had tried to describe. He was only

just in time, as doubtless many of these customs will soon pass away. It is,

however, surprising to find how much has been left; how tenaciously the English

race clings to that which habit and usage have established; how deeply rooted they

are in the affections of the people. It is really remarkable that at the present day, in

spite of ages of education and social enlightenment, in spite of centuries of

Christian teaching and practice, we have now amongst us many customs which owe

their origin to pagan beliefs and the superstitions of our heathen forefathers, and

have no other raison d'être for their existence than the wild legends of

Scandinavian mythology.

We have still our Berkshire mummers at Christmas, who come to us disguised in

strange garb and begin their quaint performance with the doggerel rhymes--

I am King George, that noble champion bold,

And with my trusty sword I won ten thousand pounds in gold;

'Twas I that fought the fiery dragon, and brought him to the

slaughter,

And by these means I won the King of Egypt's daughter. 62

Other counties have their own versions. In Staffordshire they are known as the

"Guisers," in Cornwall as the "Geese-dancers," in Sussex as the "Tipteerers."

Carolsingers are still with us, but often instead of the old carols they sing very

badly and irreverently modern hymns, though in Cambridgeshire you may still hear

"God bless you, merry gentlemen," and the vessel-boxes (a corruption of wassail)

are still carried round in Yorkshire. At Christmas Cornish folk eat giblet-pie, and

Yorkshiremen enjoy furmenty; and mistletoe and the kissing-bush are still hung in

the hall; and in some remote parts of Cornwall children may be seen dancing round

painted lighted candles placed in a box of sand. The devil's passing-bell tolls on

Christmas Eve from the church tower at Dewsbury, and a muffled peal bewails the

slaughter of the children on Holy Innocents' Day. The boar's head is still brought in

triumph into the hall of Queen's College. Old women "go a-gooding" or mumping

on St. Thomas's Day, and "hoodening" or horse-head mumming is practised at

Walmer, and bull-hoodening prevails at Kingscote, in Gloucestershire. The ancient

custom of "goodening" still obtains at Braughing, Herts. The Hertfordshire

Mercury of December 28, 1907, states that on St. Thomas's Day (December 21)

certain of the more sturdy widows of the village went round "goodening," and

collected £4 14s. 6d., which was equally divided among the eighteen needy widows

of the parish. In 1899 the oldest dame who took part in the ceremony was aged

ninety-three, while in 1904 a widow "goodened" for the thirtieth year in succession.

In the Herts and Cambs Reporter for December 23, 1904, is an account of

"Gooding Day" at Gamlingay. It appears that in 1665 some almshouses for aged

women (widows) were built there by Sir John Jacob, Knight. "On Wednesday last

(St. Thomas's Day)," says this journal, "an interesting ceremony was to be seen.

The old women were gathered at the central doorway ... preparatory to a pilgrimage

to collect alms at the houses of the leading inhabitants. This old custom, which has

been observed for nearly three hundred years, it is safe to say, will not fall into

desuetude, for it usually results in each poor widow realising a gold coin." In the

north of England first-footing on New Year's Eve is common, and a dark-

complexioned person is esteemed as a herald of good fortune. Wassailing exists in

Lancashire, and the apple-wassailing has not quite died out on Twelfth Night.

Plough Monday is still observed in Cambridgeshire, and the "plough-bullocks"

drag around the parishes their ploughs and perform a weird play. The Haxey hood

is still thrown at that place in Lincolnshire on the Feast of the Epiphany, and

valentines are not quite forgotten by rural lovers.

Shrovetide is associated with pancakes. The pancake bell is still rung in many

places, and for some occult reason it is the season for some wild football games in

the streets and lanes of several towns and villages. At St. Ives on the Monday there

is a grand hurling match, which resembles a Rugby football contest without the

kicking of the ball, which is about the size of a cricket-ball, made of cork or light

wood. At Ashbourne on Shrove-Tuesday thousands join in the game, the origin of

which is lost in the mists of antiquity. As the old church clock strikes two a little

speech is made, the National Anthem sung, and then some popular devotee of the

game is hoisted on the shoulders of excited players and throws up the ball. "She's

up," is the cry, and then the wild contest begins, which lasts often till nightfall.

Several efforts have been made to stop the game, and even the judge of the Court of

Queen's Bench had to decide whether it was legal to play the game in the streets. In

spite of some opposition it still flourishes, and is likely to do so for many a long

year. Sedgefield, Chester-le-Street, Alnwick, Dorking also have their famous

football fights, which differ much from an ordinary league match. In the latter

thousands look on while twenty-two men show their skill. In these old games all

who wish take part in them, all are keen champions and know nothing of

professionalism.

"Ycleping," or, as it is now called, clipping churches, is another Shrovetide custom,

when the children join hands round the church and walk round it. It has just been

revived at Painswick, in the Cotswolds, where after being performed for many

hundred years it was discontinued by the late vicar. On the patron saint's day (St.

Mary's) the children join hands in a ring round the church and circle round the

building singing. It is the old Saxon custom of "ycleping," or naming the church on

the anniversary of its original dedication.

Simnels on Mothering Sunday still exist, reminding us of Herrick's lines:--

I'll to thee a Simnel bring,

'Gainst thou goes a mothering;

So that when she blesseth thee

Half the blessing thou'lt give me.

Palm Sunday brings some curious customs. At Roundway Hill, and at Martinsall,

near Marlborough, the people bear "palms," or branches of willow and hazel, and

the boys play a curious game of knocking a ball with hockey-sticks up the hill; and

in Buckinghamshire it is called Fig Sunday, and also in Hertfordshire. Hertford,

Kempton, Edlesborough, Dunstable are homes of the custom, nor is the practice of

eating figs and figpies unknown in Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, Oxfordshire,

Wilts, and North Wales. Possibly the custom is connected with the withering of the

barren fig-tree.

Good Friday brings hot-cross-buns with the well-known rhyme. Skipping on that

day at Brighton is, I expect, now extinct. Sussex boys play marbles, Guildford folk

climb St. Martha's Hill, and poor widows pick up six-pences from a tomb in the

churchyard of St. Bartholomew the Great, London, on the same Holy Day.

Easter brings its Pace eggs, symbols of the Resurrection, and Yorkshire children

roll them against one another in fields and gardens. The Biddenham cakes are

distributed, and the Hallaton hare-scramble and bottle-kicking provide a rough

scramble and a curious festival for Easter Monday. On St. Mark's Day the ghosts of

all who will die during the year in the villages of Yorkshire pass at midnight before

the waiting people, and Hock-tide brings its quaint diversions to the little Berkshire

town of Hungerford.

The diversions of May Day are too numerous to be chronicled here, and I must

refer the reader to my book for a full description of the sports that usher in the

spring; but we must not forget the remarkable Furry Dance at Helston on May 8th,

and the beating of the bounds of many a township during Rogation Week. Our boys

still wear oak-leaves on Royal Oak Day, and the Durham Cathedral choir sing

anthems on the top of the tower in memory of the battle of Neville's Cross, fought

so long ago as the year 1346.

Club-feasts and morris-dancers delight the rustics at Whitsuntide, and the wakes are

well kept up in the north of England, and rush-beating at Ambleside, and hay-

strewing customs in Leicestershire. The horn dance at Abbot Bromley is a

remarkable survival. The fires on Midsummer Eve are still lighted in a few places

in Wales, but are fast dying out. Ratby, in Leicestershire, is a home of old customs,

and has an annual feast, when the toast of the immortal memory of John of Gaunt is

drunk with due solemnity. Harvest customs were formerly very numerous, but are

fast dying out before the reaping-machines and agricultural depression. The "kern-

baby" has been dead some years.

Bonfire night and the commemoration of the discovery of Gunpowder Plot and the

burning of "guys" are still kept up merrily, but few know the origin of the festivities

or concern themselves about it. Soul cakes and souling still linger on in Cheshire,

and cattering and clemmening on the feasts of St. Catherine and St. Clement are

still observed in East Sussex.

Very remarkable are the local customs which linger on in some of our towns and

villages and are not confined to any special day in the year. Thus, at Abbots Ann,

near Andover, the good people hang up effigies of arms and hands in memory of

girls who died unmarried, and gloves and garlands of roses are sometimes hung for

the same purpose. The Dunmow Flitch is a well-known matrimonial prize for

happy couples who have never quarrelled during the first year of their wedded life;

while a Skimmerton expresses popular indignation against quarrelsome or

licentious husbands and wives.

Many folk-customs linger around wells and springs, the haunts of nymphs and

sylvan deities who must be propitiated by votive offerings and are revengeful when

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