Oxfordshire.
In this county children go about singing the following rhyme, begging at the same time for half-pence:
“Knick, knock, the pan’s hot,
And we be come a shroving:
A bit of bread, a bit of cheese,
A bit of barley dompling,
That’s better than nothing.
Open the door and let us in,
For we be come a pancaking.”
At Islip in the same county this version is used:
“Pit a pat; the pan is hot,
We are come a shroving;
A little bit of bread and cheese
Is better than nothing.
The pan is hot, the pan is cold;
Is the fat in the pan nine days old?”
Brand, Pop. Antiq., 1849, vol. i. p. 88.
Islands of Scilly.
The boys celebrate the evening of this day by throwing stones against the doors of the dwellers’ houses: a privilege which they claim from time immemorial. The terms demanded by them are pancakes or money to capitulate. Some of the older sort, exceeding the bounds of this whimsical practice, in the dusk of the evening, set a bolted door or window-shutter at liberty, by battering in a breach with large pieces of rock stones, which sometimes causes work for the surgeon, as well as for the smith, glazier, and carpenter. The way of making reprisal, in such cases, is by a rope drawn across the road of the mischievous, by means of which their flight is suddenly interrupted, and themselves ignominiously hurled to the ground with the loss of their artillery.—Heath, Account of Islands of Scilly, 1750, p. 127.
Shropshire.
In The History and Antiquities of Ludlow, 1822 (pp. 188-189), occurs the following account of a custom formerly observed on this day: “The corporation provide a rope, three inches in thickness, and in length thirty-six yards, which is given out at one of the windows of the Market-House as the clock strikes four, when a large body of the inhabitants divided into two parties—one contending for Castle Street and Broad Street wards, and the other for Old Street and Corve Street wards—commence an arduous struggle, and as soon as either party gains the victory by pulling the rope beyond the prescribed limits, the pulling ceases, which is, however, renewed by a second, and sometimes by a third contest; the rope being purchased by subscription from the victorious party, and given out again. Without doubt this singular custom is symbolical of some remarkable event, and a remnant of that ancient language of visible signs, which, says a celebrated writer, “imperfectly supplies the want of letters, to perpetuate the remembrance of public or private transactions.” The sign, in this instance, has survived the remembrance of the occurrence it was designed to represent, and remains a profound mystery. It has been insinuated that the real occasion of this custom is known to the corporation, but that for some reason or other, they are tenacious of the secret. An obscure tradition attributes this custom to circumstances arising out of the siege of Ludlow by Henry VI., when two parties arose within the town, one supporting the pretensions of the Duke of York, and the other wishing to give admittance to the king; one of the bailiffs is said to have headed the latter party. History relates that, in this contest, many lives were lost, and that the bailiff, heading his party in an attempt to open Dinham Gate, fell a victim there.”