PANCAKE TUESDAY

“Pancake Tuesday is quite a nice name is it not? But it is not the only name for this holiday. It is also called Shrove Tuesday, Shrovetide, Fasting-tide, and Fasten-e’en or Fastern’s-e’en. [Mardi Gras]] I shall try to explain to you why it has all these names. There is, as you must know, a great festival of the Christian Church called Easter. It is the festival of the resurrection of Christ, and to prepare for this solemn festival the ancient Church set apart a period of fasting which we call Lent. This fasting-time begins upon Ash Wednesday, and on the morning of the previous day, in the old times, people went to the priests to confess their sins and get shriven. Hence it was called Shrove or Shriven Tuesday; hence, also, it was called Fasten-e’en, because it was upon the eve of the Great Fast.

“After attending church in the morning the people were permitted to enjoy themselves to their heart’s desire all the rest of Shrove Tuesday, and before the rigorous fasting-time of Lent began. During the Middle Ages, indeed, this merry-tide lasted for [19]several days, and some idea of the jollity of Shrovetide can be gathered from the way in which the Carnival is held upon the Continent, even now. In England, during the old times before the Reformation, there were great feasts during Shrovetide, and all the old English games and pastimes went right merrily. Some of these pastimes were very rough and cruel—such as cock-fighting and bull-baiting—and would not be permitted to-day. But there were also such games as football and hand-ball; and in certain towns in Scotland the game of hand-ball is still played, sometimes very roughly, upon Fastern’s-e’en.

“Of all the jollity and junketting of that festive time very little remains to us; almost nothing except the practice of baking and eating pancakes upon Shrove Tuesday. But nowadays the ceremonies connected with Pancake Tuesday are not so important and picturesque as they used to be. In the old days—the days when Shakspere lived—a bell was rung in the morning called the Pancake Bell. At the sound of the bell the preparation of the pancakes began. Wheaten flour mixed with water, spices, eggs and other nice things were dropped into the frying-pan as it[20] sizzled over the fire. Then followed the tossing of the pancakes. This was a time of great fun, because it required a good deal of skill to toss the pancakes and catch them in the pan. In giving them a quick twirl round the pancakes sometimes dropped into the fire. But that did not greatly matter, because there were always plenty of pancakes for everybody; and also plenty of fun in the eating of them.

“There was only one person in the company who did not enjoy the fun. For the first pancake tossed in the pan was given to that member of the party who was considered the most lazy. It was seldom eaten, you may be sure, as the Lazy One found it the best plan to run away and hide. But it was a merry day, especially for young people at school and college. At Westminster School, for instance, the cook used to bring his frying-pan with a pancake in it right into the schoolroom and toss it among the boys. In the scramble that followed the boy who captured the pancake unbroken and carried it to the Dean received a guinea for his cleverness. That was a jolly game and it is only one of many that used to be popular on Pancake Tuesday….|

ST. DAVID’S DAY.

There is a little corner of Wales which is very dear to all true Welsh folk. It is very close to the sea, near St. David’s Head, and its interest gathers round an ancient cathedral of red stone and the holy man who is buried in this cathedral. This old building, with others, stands beside a little stream called the Alan, and here also is the city of St. David’s, now a small village. It is all very lonely nowadays, this peaceful shrine near the restless sea, but in the Middle Ages it was a busy place. There were the comings and goings of great Kings and Queens with their followers, and many pilgrims of lesser name visited this shrine to do homage to the memory of the Welsh Saint. There are still many people who visit St. David’s, the ancient Menevia, and the cathedral founded by the patron saint of Wales.

“A great number of legends—stories of marvel and miracle—have been told about St. David. An angel[24] is said to have been his constant attendant in his youth, and to have ministered to all his wants. In later years he began to preach, making long journeys through Wales and England, and visiting Jerusalem. When he preached to the people, so the old legends tell us, a snow-white dove sat upon the shoulder of the saint. The power to work miracles also was ascribed to St. David; he is said to have healed all diseases, and even raised up the dead. Many other strange and marvellous things are set down in the old chronicles as having been accomplished by the saint.

“It is impossible to believe all these tales, and what we actually know to be true regarding St. David can be told in a few words. What is certain is that he was a great preacher and organiser in the early church, and his powers were so much approved that he was made Archbishop of Wales, taking up his residence at St. David’s. We have also been told by the old chroniclers that he was a very good man, and this we can well believe. One of his biographers says of him that he was a guide to the religious, a life to the poor, a support to orphans, a protection to widows, a father to the fatherless. He is said to have died in A.D. 601.[25]

“Having been such a noble and good man the Welsh people have chosen to make St. David their patron saint. On the first day of March, in every year, they hold in remembrance the old preacher and teacher who lived so long ago beside the little stream in Menevia. They also keep in remembrance, by so doing, all that is good and noble in the history of the Welsh race. That is surely a right thing to do. For although Wales is now a part of Great Britain it has a history of its own, a language of its own, and a literature of its own. It is well that these things should be held in remembrance, both by the Welsh folk at home and those who have travelled into far lands, and they set apart St. David’s Day as a special day for doing honour to all that is best in the ancient history of their country. It is a happy custom, alike for old and young.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY.
March 17

“The national emblem of Ireland is a plant, the leaf of which has three small leaflets. This is called the Shamrock. It is beloved by Irish folks at all times, but most of them wear it conspicuously upon the 17th day of March. St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland, and that is St. Patrick’s Day. There are very good reasons why the Saint should be honoured by Irishmen, yet it is a curious fact that he was not born in Ireland. Indeed, there is some doubt regarding both the time and place of his birth. Some people think that the Saint was born in France, while others hold that his birthplace was at Kilpatrick, near Dunbarton, in Scotland.

But this we know for certain that St. Patrick, when he was a lad of sixteen years of age, was captured by pirates on his father’s farm and carried by them to Ireland, where he was sold into slavery. The Irish Chief who bought the lad lived in County Antrim, [29]near Sleamish Mountain, and he employed Patrick in herding swine. All the people who lived in that part of Ireland at this time—about the end of the 4th century—were heathen. Now, young Patrick had been trained by his father and grandfather in the Christian religion, and it made him very unhappy to think that his master, and the people of Ireland, were ignorant of the true faith; he was also unhappy when he thought of his home and his friends. But after six years he escaped from slavery, and sailed away from Ireland.

He went to another country, either Scotland or France, and there became a priest and a preacher of the Christian religion. Patrick was very successful, and after many years he was made a Bishop. But all this time he kept in remembrance the people of Ireland who had never heard the Gospel, and at last he determined to go and preach the good news in the country where he had been a slave and a swineherd. He was sixty years of age when he landed in Wicklow as the apostle of Christianity to Ireland, but Patrick was a strong old man and he had great faith in his message. Up and down the country he travelled converting the heathen Chiefs and their followers. As[30] many as 12,000 people were baptised with his own hands, and by his efforts the Christian religion was firmly planted in Ireland. A great many marvellous stories are told about the Saint. It is said, for instance, that on one occasion he made a heap of snow-balls blaze up into a fire by simply breathing upon them; and there is also the well-known legend that he drove all the snakes from Ireland by the beating of a drum. The year of his death is uncertain, but we know that he must have been a very old man, and that he was buried at Downpatrick.

This is the man who is held in honour by Irishmen in all parts of the world. On St. Patrick’s Day they give themselves a holiday, and make merry,—those of them, at least, who still remain in the old Catholic Church. Surely that is well. For in honouring St. Patrick the Irish people do honour to themselves, and to all that is noble and brave in their long sad history.

ALL FOOLS’ DAY.
April 1

He must have been a merry person who invented All Fools’ Day, but no one can tell when he lived, where he lived, or what was his name. All we know about the matter is that the custom of fool-making upon the First of April is very old, and that it prevails over nearly the whole of Europe. Some people have tried to guess how this odd custom began, and they have found its origin in one of the old Miracle Plays that used to be played by the Monks in the Middle Ages at the Easter Festival. In this play Christ was represented as being sent hither and thither from one judge to another, from Annas to Caiaphas, and then from Pilate to Herod. This explanation is doubtful; it is more likely that the custom of fool-making had its origin in heathen times. In any case, it is a merry custom; and as the joker and the fool have many sons and daughters it is a custom that shall endure yet a while.

The great thing on the First of April is to have a good memory. Most people know about April fooling, but many people forget about it when the special day arrives. Some of you children, no doubt, have forgotten; with the result that the joker with a good memory has made of you an April Fool. In coming down to breakfast you have been asked quite solemnly, let us say, why your hair is brushed to the wrong side. If you have gone and peeped into a looking-glass there was an instant burst of laughter, and then you have become aware that All Fools’ Day has come round again. Some boys and girls get angry when they have been thus fooled; but that only adds to their foolishness. A good plan is to laugh with those who are laughing; and you can better this plan by catching the joker off his guard. By so doing you may, if you are clever at keeping a solemn face, make a fool of the joker in his turn. Then the laugh is with you, and you can feel quite pleased with yourself until the next All Fools’ Day.

This is the great festival of the Practical Joker, and all is well when his jokes are simple and amusing. To pin a piece of paper on someone’s back, or to send the school Dunce into a bookseller’s shop for a[35] “History of Adam’s Grandfather,” is quite good fun. But there are some jokes which are carefully prepared in order to give pain to the persons upon whom they are played; they are not amusing, but merely cruel. It is not a good joke, for instance, to balance a bowl of water upon the top of a door, so that the first person to enter the room gets drenched. Neither is it nice fun to send an innocent boy upon an errand with a letter containing the instruction: “Send the fool another mile.” This used to be a common form of April joke in Scotland, and it was not unusual to keep the poor boy trudging long distances for the greater part of the day. This is not fun, but a stupid form of cruelty; and of much the same character as the hoax that is played upon tradesmen who are asked to send goods to a particular house upon a particular morning. It is only when the vans choke up the street from end to end that someone remembers it is the First of April, and that the Practical Joker—a stupid and heartless person in this case—has again been exhibiting his foolishness.

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PALM SUNDAY.

In the New Testament you have it written that Jesus entered Jerusalem for the last time riding on a colt, the foal of an ass. Two of his disciples, acting upon the instructions of their Master, had entered a village near the Mount of Olives, and there they found the colt by the door without, in a place where two ways met. They unloosed the animal, telling those that stood by and questioned them, that the Master had need of him. Then they brought the colt to Jesus, who mounted upon its back, after some of the disciples had spread their garments thereon. It was thus that Jesus rode into Jerusalem to his death. And when the great multitude of people who were gathered to the Passover saw him coming they cut branches from the palm trees by the side of the way, and spread them on the ground before Jesus, while they cried with joyful voices: “Hosanna; blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord.”[37]

[39]

In this incident you have the origin of Palm Sunday. It is the first day of Holy Week, the week which is dedicated by the Catholic Church to the commemoration of the sufferings and death of Jesus. With the early church throughout Europe it was the custom to lay the branches of a tree upon the altar on this day, and as the palm tree does not grow in Europe, the box, the yew, and especially the willow tree, were used instead. The branches were blessed by the priest, sprinkled with holy water, and then carried in procession through the town. As part of this procession it was sometimes arranged to have a figure representing Jesus sitting upon an ass—either a living figure or one made of wood, sitting upon a wooden animal. This wooden effigy was drawn along upon wheels, and the people in the street scattered the consecrated branches before it. Flowers were sometimes used as well as the branches of trees.

It is a beautiful ceremony, this blessing of flowers and tree-branches upon Palm Sunday in memory of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem, and it is one to interest all you children. But in the Middle Ages a great many unworthy things, such as the selling of palm-branches in order to avert diseases, became associated[40] with Palm Sunday. Indeed, that whole week, the week that should have been so solemn and sacred, was turned into an occasion of feasting and frivolity. At the Reformation many of these unworthy things were abolished, and the ceremonies in connection with Palm Sunday were considerably modified here in England. Yet in some parts of the country it is still a custom to go a-palming—that is to say, to gather willow-branches—on the day before Palm Sunday.

With the Roman Catholic Church, however, and especially in the ceremonies at Rome during Holy Week, an important place is given to Palm Sunday. The officiating priest blesses the branches, which are then distributed. In the solemn mass that follows, the people in the congregation hold the branches in their hands to the end of the service. In most cases these consecrated branches are taken home and preserved during the year; then they are burned and the ashes used upon Ash Wednesday.