Wi’ buttons doon afoor-oor-oor,
He’s gitten on his lang grey coat
Wi’ buttons doon afoor.
Within a week, the young carol-singers will be on your doorstep night after night, reminding you that Christmas is drawing nigh.
A very old custom, but which has now been pretty nigh stamped out by the county policeman, is that of ‘Riding the Stang.’ It is not dead yet, though; I witnessed the stang being ridden as recently as 1891 in Guisborough, and in many of the villages in Wensleydale it is to this day resorted to when considered needful.
The stang is held in wholesome dread by a certain class of evil-doers. Wife-beaters and immoral characters chiefly had and have the benefit of the stang[7]. Whatever their discovered sin might be, was fully set forth in the stang doggerel. One or two points have to be, or at least are, most carefully observed: (1) The real name of the culprit must not be mentioned. (2) The stang must be ridden in three separate parishes each night; and in many places, to make the proceedings quite legal, it was considered a sine qua non that the stang-master must knock at the door of the man or woman they were holding up to ridicule, and ask for a pocket-piece, i.e. fourpence.
The whole proceeding was carried out as follows:—An effigy made of straw and old clothes, representing the culprit, was bound to a pole[8] and set in an upright position in the centre of either a handcart or a small pony cart, in which was seated the stang-master; and following behind were gathered all the ragamuffins of the village, armed with pan lids, tin cans, tin whistles, or anything which could be made to produce a discordant sound. Being ready, the cart was drawn in front of the culprit’s house, and after a fearful hubbub, the stang-master cried out, in a sing-song voice,—
Ah tinkle, Ah tinkle, Ah tinkle tang,
It’s nut foor your part ner mah part
‘At Ah rahd the stang,