Beating The Back To Work Blues
With Christmas and New Year’s Day falling on Saturdays, for some there is an opportunity to extend festive break until January 4th. The prospect of returning to the workplace after such a long break can be daunting and a tad depressing. In the Middle Ages the Christmas break was even lengthier. It was not until the start of the Epiphany, a celebration marking the visit of the three wise men to the baby Jesus, that a return to work was even grudgingly considered.
Our Twelfth Night of Christmas falls on January 5th, as the Church of England includes the night of Christmas itself in its calculation. This is the point when decorations should be taken down, a hangover from an old belief that tree spirits lived in the holly and ivy that were used to mark the festive period. Releasing them at the end of the Christmas period increased the likelihood of abundant harvests and plentiful food supplies.
Confusingly, in many countries the Twelfth Night is the evening of the first day of the Epiphany, January 6th, counting from the evening of Boxing Day. Along with Christmas and Easter, the Epiphany is one of the three principal festivals in the Church calendar and, to this day, is marked by public holidays, feasting, the giving of gifts, and, for the brave, icy dips into the rivers and lakes of Eastern Europe.
From at least the late 15th century, it was not until the first Monday after the Epiphany that English agricultural workers would return work, their first task being to plough the land in readiness for the spring crops. This day was known as Plough Monday, which they saw as an occasion to celebrate with gusto and have some fun, an alternative and more attractive form of breaking yourself in gently. While the festivities associated with Plough Monday were prevalent in Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, and East Anglia, they were less commonly observed elsewhere, leading some to speculate that their origins are older still, perhaps dating back to the Danish occupation of the area.
On the night before, ploughs were taken to the church to be blessed. A flame, the Plough Light, was lit and would be kept burning throughout the year to bring good luck to ploughmen and labourers. An inscription in the church of St Agnes in the Norfolk village of Cawston gives a sense of the aspirations behind the proceedings; “God spede the Plough and send us ale corne anow…”.
On Plough Monday itself, a decorated plough, either real or a replica, was dragged around the village by groups of young men wearing elaborate costumes, bedecked with ribbons, jewellery, and even horse brasses. On arrival at a house, some of the men, known Plough Stotts in Yorkshire and the North East, Plough Bullocks or Jacks in the East Midlands, and Plough Witches in East Anglia, would knock on the door and request a contribution of money, to help maintain the Plough Light and to supplement the incomes of the poor and needy of the area. Any monies donated would be handed to a man dressed as an old woman, “the Bessy”.
In some parts of the country the procession was joined by a Straw Bear, dancers, known as “Molly Dancers”, and musicians. Troupes of mummers would perform a special Plough Play. Although there were regional variations, the play, a tale of thwarted love, usually culminated in a fight between a “dame” and a Clown or Fool, her death and revival under the ministrations of a quack doctor.
Not surprisingly, the procession was an excuse for the consumption of copious amounts of ale, washed down with special fare. In East Anglia participants enjoyed a Plough Pudding, a sort of boiled pudding with a top made from suet pastry and filled with pork sausage meat, bacon, onions, sage, and sugar. It was the antithesis of fast food as it took some three and a half hours to cook.
