Derbyshire.
On Plough Monday the “Plough bullocks” are occasionally seen; they consist of a number of young men from various farmhouses, who are dressed up in ribbons, their shirts (for they wear no coats or waistcoats) literally covered with rosettes of various colours and their hats bound with ribbons, and decorated with every kind of ornament that comes in their way; these young men yoke themselves to a plough, which they draw about, preceded by a band of music, from house to house, collecting money. They are accompanied by the Fool and Bessy; the Fool being dressed in the skin of a calf, with the tail hanging down behind, and Bessy generally a young man in female attire. The Fool carries an inflated bladder tied to the end of a long stick, by way of whip, which he does not fail to apply pretty soundly to the heads and shoulders of his team. When anything is given a cry of “Largess!” is raised, and a dance performed round the plough. If a refusal to their application for money is made they not unfrequently plough up the pathway, door-stone, or any other portion of the premises they happen to be near.—Jour. of Arch. Assoc. 1852, vol. vii. p. 202.
Huntingdonshire.
Plough Monday is observed in this county. The mummers are called “Plough-Witchers,” and their ceremony, “Plough-Witching.”—N. & Q. 2nd S. vol. ix. p. 381.
Leicestershire.
Macaulay (History of Claybrook, 1791, p. 128,) says: On Plough Monday I have taken notice of an annual display of morris-dancers at Claybrook, who come from the neighbouring villages of Sapcote and Sharnford.
Lincolnshire.
A correspondent of the Book of Days, vol. i. p. 94, giving the following interesting account as to how Plough Monday was, in days gone by, celebrated in the county, says:—Rude though it was, the Plough procession threw a life into the dreary scenery of winter, as it came winding along the quiet rutted lanes, on its way from one village to another; for the ploughmen from many a surrounding hamlet and lonely farmhouse united in the celebration of Plough Monday. It was nothing unusual for at least a score of the “sons of the soil” to yoke themselves with ropes to the plough, having put on clean smock frocks in honour of the day. There was no limit to the number who joined in the morris-dance, and were partners with “Bessy,” who carried the money-box; and all these had ribbons in their hats, and pinned about them wherever there was room to display a bunch. Many a hardworking country Molly lent a helping hand in decorating out her Johnny for Plough Monday, and finished him with an admiring exclamation of “Lawks, John! thou does look smart, surely.” Some also wore small bunches of corn in their hats, from which the wheat was soon shaken out by the ungainly jumping which they called dancing. Occasionally, if the winter was severe, the procession was joined by threshers carrying their flails, reapers bearing their sickles, and carters with their long whips, which they were cracking to add to the noise, while even the smith and the miller were among the number, for the one sharpened the ploughshares and the other ground the corn; and Bessy rattled his box, and danced so high that he showed his worsted stockings and corduroy breeches; and very often, if there was a thaw, tucked up his gown skirts under his waistcoat, and shook the bonnet off his head, and disarranged the long ringlets that ought to have concealed his whiskers. For Bessy is to the procession of Plough Monday what the leading figurante is to an opera or ballet, and dances about as gracefully as the hippopotami described by Dr. Livingstone. But their rough antics were the cause of much laughter, and rarely do we ever remember hearing any coarse jest that would call up the angry blush to a modest cheek.
No doubt they were called “plough-bullocks,” through drawing the plough, as bullocks were formerly used, and are still yoked to the plough in some parts of the country. The rubbishing verses they recited are not worth preserving, beyond the line, which graces many a public-house sign, “God speed the plough.” At the large farmhouse, besides money they obtained refreshment, and through the quantity of ale they thus drank during the day managed to get what they called “their load by night.” Even the poorest cottagers dropped a few pence into Bessy’s box.
But the great event of the day was when they came before some house which bore signs that the owner was well-to-do in the world, and nothing was given to them. Bessy rattled his box, and the ploughmen danced, while the country lads blew the bullocks’ horns, or shouted with all their might; but if there was still no sign, no coming forth of either bread-and-cheese or ale, then the word was given, the ploughshare driven into the ground before the door or window, the whole twenty men yoked pulling like one, and in a minute or two the ground before the house was as brown, barren, and ridgy as a newly-ploughed field. But this was rarely done, for everybody gave something, and were it but little the men never murmured, though they might talk about the stinginess of the giver afterwards amongst themselves, more especially if the party was what they called “well off in the world.” We are not aware that the ploughmen were ever summoned to answer for such a breach of the law, for they believe, to use their own expressive language, “they can stand by it, and no law in the world can touch ’em, ’cause it’s an old charter;” and we are sure it would spoil their “folly to be wise.”