The word "simnel" has given rise to much discussion amongst etymologists. It is variously spelled simnell, symnel, or, in Lancashire especially, simbling. It is not improbable that it possesses some relationship to the Anglo-Saxon symel or symbel, a feast. Bailey and Dr. Cowell derive it from the Latin simila, fine flour. The popular notion is that the father of Lambert Simnel, the pretender to the throne in the reign of Henry VII., was a famous baker of these cakes, and that they retain his name in consequence of his great reputation in confectionery art. This, however, cannot be correct, as simnels are referred to long before his time. It is far more probable that the trade gave the name to the man, as in the cases of smith, baker, tailor, glover, etc. These cakes, like brides'-cakes, are generally profusely decorated.
It is not improbable that the name "simnel" was in Saxon times employed to designate a finer or superior kind of bread or cake. It occurs in the "Lay of Havelock the Dane," a French romance, abridged by Geoffroi Gaimer, the Anglo-Norman trouvère. This "Le Lai de Aveloc," Professor Morley says, belongs to the first half of the twelfth century. He considers it to have been founded on "an English tradition that must have been extant in Anglo-Saxon times, for Gaimer speaks of it as an ancient story." The lay says that when the fisherman Grim, the founder of the town of Grimsby, "caught the great lamprey, he carried it to Lincoln, and brought home wastels, simnels, his bags full of meal and corn, neats' flesh, sheep and swine's flesh, and hemp for the making of more lines."
Since the above was written, the following paragraph on this subject appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine:—
"Simnel Cakes.—A well-known Lancashire antiquary some time since stated that this term 'originally meant the very finest bread, Pain demain is another term for it, on account of its having been used as Sunday bread' (if a conjecture may be hazarded, it is possible there may be some connexion with the shew bread and heathen votive offerings, as in India and China) 'at the Sacrament. The name appears in Mediæval Latin as simanellus, and may thus have been derived from the Latin simila—fine flour. In Wright's 'Vocabularies' it appears thus:—'Hic artocopus—symnelle.' This form was in use during the fifteenth century. In the 'Dictionarius' of John de Garlande, compiled at Paris in the thirteenth century, it appears thus:—'Simeneus—placentæ—simnels.' Such cakes were stamped with the figure of Christ or of the Virgin.' Is it not a little singular that this custom of making these cakes, and also the practice of assembling in one place to eat them, should be confined to Bury? Such is the fact. No other town or district in the United Kingdom is known to keep up such a custom.[20] As stated above, much labour has been expended to trace its origin, but without success."[21]
Mid-Lent Sunday is likewise called Braggat or Braggot Sunday, from the custom of drinking "mulled" or spiced ale on that day. The word is believed to be derived from the ancient British bragawd, which signifies a liquor of this class. The Braggat ales drunk on Braggat Sunday have, no doubt, intimate connection with the buns and cake of the other spring festivities. The solid and fluid elements, in some form or other, appear to be indispensable in all festive gatherings, religious or otherwise. Bacchus and Ceres, or Dionysos and Dêmetêr, were jointly honoured at the festivals attendant upon the celebration of the Eleusinian mysteries. Shakspere makes Sir Toby Belch exclaim, on Malvolio's interference with their noisy festive roystering, "Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?"
In an old glossary of the Lancashire dialect, published in 1775, "carlings" are described as "Peas boiled on Care Sunday, i.e., the Sunday before Palm Sunday." "Parched" peas, or peas fried in pepper, butter, and salt, form yet a favourite dish amongst the poorer classes in the north of England on "Carling Sunday." A tradition, indeed, still exists, which asserts that, during a very severe famine, a vessel opportunely arrived in one of the ports, laden with a cargo of peas, to the great delight of the inhabitants; and the "carling" feast is regarded as a memorial of the event.
Peas and beans have had symbolical or sacred characteristics from the earliest times. Beans were regarded by the Greeks and Romans, according to Plutarch, as highly potent in the invocation of the manes of the departed. Brand says: "There is a great deal of learning in Erasmus's Adages concerning the religious use of beans, which were thought to belong to the dead. An observation which he gives us of Pliny, concerning Pythagoras's interdiction of this pulse is highly remarkable. It is 'that beans contain the souls of the dead.' For which cause also they were used in the Parentalia." He further adds: "Ridiculous and absurd as these superstitions may appear, yet it is certain that our carlings thence deduce their origin."
There is not, after all, anything very ridiculous or absurd about the matter, when the common Aryan origin of these traditionary superstitions is considered. May not the Roman Parentalia, or the offering of oblations or sacrifices, consisting of liquors, victims, and garlands, at stated periods, on the tombs of parents, have had some remote connection with the "mothering" customs referred to, on Mid-Lent Sunday? Amongst other objects of the Roman ceremonial, it appears that of an atonement to the ghosts of the departed was included. The storing of peas and beans for the Lenten season was carefully attended to in the middle ages, especially at the religious houses. A French work, printed at Paris, in 1565, entitled "Quadragesimale Spirituale," gives some curious information on this subject. Speaking of the Lenten fare, the writer says:—
"After salad we eat fried beanes, by which we understand confession. When we would have beanes well sooden, we lay them in steepe, otherwise they will never seeth kindly. Therefore, if we propose to amend our faults, it is not sufficient barely to confess them at all adventure, but we must let our confession lie in steepe in the water of Meditation." He further adds: "River water, which continually moveth, runneth and floweth, is very good for the seething of pease."