‘In the Museo Lapidario of the Vatican, on the Christian side of it, and not far off from the door leading into the library, there is a tablet representing in a rude manner the miracle of the five barley loaves. Every visitor must have seen it, for it has been there for years. The loaves are round, like cakes, and have a cross upon them, such as our cakes bear, which are broken and eaten on Good Friday morning, symbolical of the sacrifice of the body of our Lord. Five of these cakes, explanatory of the scene, are ranged beneath an arch-shaped table, at which recline five people, while another, with a basket full, is occupied in serving them. The cakes are so significant of the Bread of Life that one might almost regard the repast as intended to prefigure the sacrifice that was to follow, and the institution connected with it. Having, from the earliest period of memory, cherished a particular regard for hot-cross buns and all their pleasing associations, it was a source of gratifying reflection to see my old favourites thus brought into intimate association with the pious thoughts of the primitive Christians, and to know that at home we cherished an ancient usage on Good Friday which the more Catholic nations of Europe no longer observed. But, alas! there is always some drawback to our full satisfaction in this world, and knowledge is often a cruel dissipation of favourite convictions; my faith in the Christian biography of these buns has recently received a very rude shock.
‘It would appear that they have descended to us, not from any Popish practice, as some pious souls affirm, but from one which was actually, and, like the word which we use to signify the great festival of the Church, Easter, to a paganism as ancient as the worship of Astarte, in honour of whom, about the time of the Passover, our pagan ancestors, the Saxons, baked and offered up a particular kind of cake. We read in Jeremiah (vii. 17, 18): “Seest thou not what they do in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem? The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough, to make cakes to the Queen of Heaven.” [See also Jeremiah xliv. 18, 19.] Dr. Stukeley, in his Medallic History of Valerius Carausius, remarks that they were “assiduous to knead the Easter cakes for her service.” The worship of a Queen of Heaven, under some significant name or other, was an almost universal practice, and exists still in various parts of the globe. She is usually represented, like the Madonna, bearing her son in her lap, or like Isis, with the infant Horus. We may see such images in the Louvre, and in the great Ethnographical Museum at Copenhagen, where the Queen of Heaven of the Chinese, Tien-how, figures in white porcelain, side by side with Schling-mu, the Holy Mother. Certain metaphysical ideas are apt to flow in a common channel, and get clothed in the same symbolical dress. Hence we find a Queen of Heaven, no less in Mexico than in China, in Egypt, Greece, Italy, and England; and, under the pagan title of a Christian festival, preserve, along with our buns, the memorial of her ancient reign.’
But there is a bread which must not escape notice—a true bread—although somewhat sweet and spiced. When it was first introduced into England no one can tell, but it was well known in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, for Shakespeare, in Love’s Labour Lost (Act V., S. 1), makes Costard say: ‘An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread.’ And we find it used in a similar way to the educational biscuits of the present day; for Matthew Prior, in his Alma says:
It was made with honey, before the introduction of sugar, and must be of remote antiquity and intimately allied to our friend the Bous. The Rhodians made bread with honey which was so pleasant that it was eaten as cake after dinner. The German gingerbread and the French pain d’épice used both to be made with honey. The use of gingerbread is widely spread, and wherever it is eaten it is popular, even in the far East Indies, where both natives and Anglo-Indians rejoice in it. In Holland it is in more request than in any other country in Europe, and the recipe for its manufacture is guarded as a jealous secret and descends as an heirloom from father to son.
In its early days gingerbread was an unleavened cake, and the first attempt to make it light was to introduce pearl-ash or potash; afterwards alum was introduced, now it is made of ordinary fermented dough, or with carbonate of ammonia. When well made, gingerbread will last good for years; but if not well made, and of good materials, it will last no time, but will get soft with the first damp weather. Such was the stuff sold at fairs—both thick gingerbread and nuts—booths being erected for the sale of nothing else. The background of these booths was ornamented by gingerbread crowns, kings and queens, cocks, etc., dazzlingly resplendent with pseudo gold leaf, or, as it was then called, ‘Dutch metal.’ I do not think that anybody ever ate any of these works of art, I think they were solely for ornament; and, when combined with bows and streamers of bright-coloured ribbons, they made the gingerbread booths the most attractive in the fair.
In the last century it was a great institution, and Swift, writing to Stella, says: ‘’Tis a loss you are not here, to partake of three weeks’ frost, and eat gingerbread in a booth by a fire on the Thames.’ There was a famous itinerant vendor of this article named Ford, but who was more generally known as ‘Tiddy Diddy Doll,’ from a song he used to sing whose words were but those. He flourished in the middle of last century, and Hogarth painted him in one of the scenes of ‘Industry and Idleness,’ where the idle apprentice is going to his doom.
Hogarth’s Picture of Ford.
Hone, in his Every Day Book, vol. i., p. 375, etc., gives a very good account of Ford. He says: ‘This celebrated vendor of gingerbread, from his eccentricity of character, and extensive dealings in his way, was always hailed as the king of itinerant tradesmen.17 In his person he was tall, well made, and his features handsome. He affected to dress like a person of rank—white and gold suit of clothes, laced ruffled shirt, laced hat and feathers, white silk stockings, with the addition of a fine white apron. Among his harangues to gain customers, take this as a specimen: ‘Mary, Mary, where are you now, Mary? I live, when I am at home, at the second house in Little Ball Street, two steps underground, with a wiscum, riscum, and a why-not. Walk in, ladies and gentlemen, my shop is on the second floor backwards, with a brass knocker at the door. Here’s your nice gingerbread, your spice gingerbread; it will melt in your mouth like a red-hot brick-bat, and rumble in your inside like Punch and his wheel-barrow.’... For many years (and perhaps at present) allusion was made to his name, as thus: ‘You are so fine, you look like Tiddy Doll. You are as tawdry as Tiddy Doll. You are quite Tiddy Doll,’ etc.
But there is a use for badly-made gingerbread which perhaps some of us do not know—a gingerbread barometer. It is nothing more than the figure of a General made of gingerbread, which Clavette buys every year at the Place du Trone. When he gets home he hangs his purchase on a nail. You know the effect of the atmosphere on gingerbread; the slightest moisture renders it soft; in dry weather, on the contrary, it grows hard and tough. Every morning, on going out, Clavette asks his servant, ‘What does the General say?’ The man forthwith applies his thumb to the figure, and replies, ‘The General feels flabby about the chest; you’d better take your umbrella!’ On the other hand, when the symptoms are hard and unyielding, our worthy colleague sallies forth in his new hat.
A curious use of dough, somewhat sweetened, was made at Christmas, when it was manufactured into Yule doughs, or dows, or Yule babies, small images like dolls with currants for eyes, intended probably to represent the infant Jesus, which were presented by bakers to the children of their customers. Another Christmas custom connected with dough used to obtain in Wiltshire, where a hollow loaf, containing an apple, and ornamented on the top with the head of a cock or a dragon, with currant eyes, and made of paste, was baked, and put by a child’s bedside on Christmas morning to be eaten before breakfast. This was called a Cop-a-loaf, or Cop-loaf.
Much land in England was held by tenure, in which bread plays a part, as the following instances out of many will show.18
Apelderham, Sussex.—John Aylemer holds by court roll one messuage and one yard [thirty acres] land.... And he ought to find at three reap days, in autumn, every day, two men, and was to have for each of the said men, on every of such reap days, viz., on each of the two first days, one loaf of wheat and barley mixed, weighing eighteen pounds of wax, every loaf to be of the price of a penny farthing; and at the third reap day each man was to have a loaf of the same weight, all of wheat, of the price of a penny halfpenny.
Chakedon, Oxon.—Every mower on this manor was to have a loaf of the price of a halfpenny, besides other things.
Glastonbury, Somerset.—In the thirty-third year of Edward I., William Pasturell held twelve ox-gangs of land there from the abbot, by service of finding a cook in the kitchen of the said abbot and a baker for the bakehouse.
Hallaton, Leicester.—A piece of land was bequeathed to the use and advantage of the rector, who was there to provide ‘two hare pies, a quantity of ale, and two dozen of penny loaves, to be scrambled for on Easter Monday annually.’
Lenneston or Loston, Devon.—Geoffrey de Alba-Marlia held this hamlet of the King, rendering therefore to the King, as often as he should hunt in the Forest of Dartmoor, one loaf of oat bread of the value of half a farthing, and three barbed arrows, feathered with peacock’s feathers, and fixed in the aforesaid loaf.
Liston, Essex.—In the forty-first year of Edward III., Nan, the wife of William Leston, held the manor of Overhall, in this parish, by the service of paying for, bringing in, and placing of five wafers before the King, as he sits at dinner, upon the day of his coronation.
Twickenham, Middlesex.—There was an ancient custom here of dividing two great cakes in the church among the young people on Easter Day; but, it being looked upon as a superstitious relic, it was ordered by Parliament, in 1645, that the parishioners should forbear that custom, and instead thereof buy loaves of bread for the poor of the parish with the money that should have bought the cakes. It is probable that the cakes were bought at the vicar’s expense; for it appears that the sum of one pound per annum is still charged upon the vicarage for the purpose of buying penny loaves for poor children on the Thursday before Easter. Within the memory of man they were thrown from the church steeple to be scrambled for.
Wells, Dorset.—Richard de Wells held this manor ever since the Conquest by the service of being baker to our Lord the King.
Witham, Essex.—By an inquisition made in the reign of Henry III., it appears that one Geoffrey de Lyston held land at Witham by the service of carrying flour to make wafers on the King’s birthday, whenever his Majesty was in the Kingdom.
Of bread, as given away in charity or by dole, the examples in England are almost numberless; still a few somewhat redeemed from common place, and extracted from the Report on Charities, may interest the reader.19
Assington, Suffolk.—John Winterflood, by will dated April 2, 1593, gave to the poor of Assington four bushels of meslin (wheat and rye) payable out of the manor of Aveley Hall, to be distributed in bread at Christmas; and four bushels of meslin, out of the rectory or priory of Assington, to be distributed in bread at Easter; and under this donation four bushels of wheat are brought to Assington Church and distributed among the poor at Christmas, and the like quantity of wheat at Easter.
St. Bartholomew by the Exchange, London.—Several benefactors have given bread to the poor of this parish. Richard Crowshaw, goldsmith, by will, April 26, 1531, directed that 100l. should be paid to provide 2s. weekly for ever, to be laid out in good cheese, to be delivered to the poor parishioners of this parish, according as they received the bread, which then was and had been long given them.
The Biddenden Maids.
Another bread and cheese charity still obtains in the village of Biddenden, Kent, about four miles from Tenterden; and it is noticeable on account of the tradition which assigns its foundation to a lusus naturæ similar to the Siamese twins of our day. The founders of the charity, according to tradition, were Eliza and Mary Chulkhurst, who were born in 1100, and lived together, joined at hips and shoulders, for 34 years. To perpetuate their memory, biscuits, measuring 3-1/2 in. by 2 in. and about 1/4 in. thick, are made and distributed with the dole of bread on Easter Sunday. On these biscuits is stamped a rude representation of the ‘Biddenden Maids.’ There are two moulds, one made of beech-wood, judging from the twins’ costume of commode, or cap, and laced bodice, dates from the time of William and Mary or Anne; the other, which is of boxwood, although an attempted copy, is undoubtedly more modern. The writer has the biscuits, and with them came the following paper, headed by a rough woodcut:
‘A short and concise history of Eliza and Mary Chulkhurst, who were both joined together by the hips and shoulders, in the year of our Lord 1100, at Biddenden, in the County of Kent, commonly called “The Biddenden Maids.”’
The reader will observe by the plate that they lived together in the above state 34 years, at the expiration of which time one of them was taken ill, and in a short time died; the surviving one was advised to be separated from the body of her deceased sister by dissection, but she absolutely refused the separation by saying these words, ‘As we came together we will also go together’; and in the space of about six hours after her sister’s decease she was taken ill and died also.
By their will they bequeathed to the churchwardens of the parish of Biddenden and their successor churchwardens, for ever, certain pieces or parcels of land in the parish of Biddenden, containing 20 acres, more or less, which are now let at 40 guineas per annum. There are usually made, in commemoration of these wonderful phenomena of Nature, about 1000 rolls (sic) with their impressions printed on them, and given away to all strangers on Easter Sunday, after Divine Service in the afternoon; also about 500 quartern loaves, and cheese in proportion, to all the poor inhabitants of the said parish.
Hasted, in his History of the County of Kent (edit. 1790, Vol. III., p. 66), says, with regard to this benefaction: ‘There is a vulgar tradition in these parts that the figures on the cakes represent the donors of this gift, being two women—twins—who were joined together in their bodies, and lived together so till they were between 20 and 30 years of age. But this seems without foundation. The truth seems to be that it was the gift of two maidens of the name of Preston, and that the print of the women on the cakes has only taken place within these 50 years, and was made to represent two poor widows, as the general objects of a charitable benefaction. William Horner, rector of this parish, in 1656, brought a suit in the Exchequer for the recovery of these lands, as having been given for an augmentation of his glebe land; but he was nonsuited.’
Bread riots are of comparatively modern date. In the olden days people suffered from scarcity, but they suffered without making senseless riots. There was no Free Trade in corn, and the people had to depend upon home-grown cereals; so that in times of drought or failure of crops they felt the pinch terribly. True, they had a certain amount of protection against overcharge and combination in the form of the Assize of Bread, which, while it gave the baker a working profit, gave the consumer the benefit of a sliding-scale according to the market value of wheat.
It is not worth while going very far back to write the history of hard times and how they were met; a hundred years is quite long enough for retrospect. Suffice it, then, that the years 1795-96 were years of great scarcity, and all classes, from the peasant to the King, felt it, and met it like men. To cope with this dearth, the best way seemed to them to diminish, as far as possible, the use of wheaten flour, and to provide substitutes therefor. The King set his subjects a good example.
‘His Majesty has given orders for the bread used in his household to be made of meal and rye mixed. No other sort is permitted to be baked, and the royal family eat bread of the same quality as their servants do. It is extremely sweet and palatable.
‘One half flour, and half potatoes, also make a very excellent bread.’ (Times, July 22, 1795.)
‘The writer of this paragraph has seen the bread that is eaten at his Majesty’s table. It consists of two sorts only, the one composed of wheaten flour and rye mixed; the other is half wheaten flour, half potato flour. If ever example deserved imitation, it is this.’ (Times, July 30, 1795.)
People were requested to discontinue the use of hair powder, which was made of starch obtained from wheat, and very many did so; in fact, this movement extended to the Army, for we read in the Times, Feb. 10, 1795: ‘In consequence of the scarcity of wheat, arising partly from such quantities of it being used for hair powder, several regiments have, very patriotically, discontinued the use of hair powder, which, in these instances, was generally nothing but flour.’
Potatoes came very much to the fore as a substitute for wheat, and the Parliamentary Board of Agriculture proposed a premium of one thousand pounds to the person who would grow the largest breadth of potatoes on lands never before applied to the culture of that plant.
The City authorities watched the bakers narrowly as to short weight and amerced them 5s. per ounce short, one man having to pay, with costs, £106 5s. on 420 ounces deficient in weight. Wheat in August, 1795, was 13s. 6d. per bushel, and the price of the quartern loaf should then have been 1s. 6d., as it was 1s. 3d. in January, 1796, when wheat was 11s. 6d. per bushel. It fell rapidly after harvest and in December, 1796, was 7s. 4d. per bushel. It must be remembered that money then had twice its present value.
In 1800 there was another scarcity, and in February of that year a Bill passed into law which enacted ‘That it shall not be lawful for any baker, or other person, or persons, residing within the cities of London and Westminster, and the Bills of Mortality, and within ten miles of the Royal Exchange, after the 26th day of February, 1800, or residing in any part of Great Britain after the 4th day of March, 1800, to sell, or offer to expose for sale, any bread, until the same shall have been baked 24 hours at the least.’
The average price of wheat this year was 14s. 1d. per bushel, and in July, just before harvest, it rose to 16s. 10d. or 134s. 8d. per quarter, and other provisions were very dear. The people were less patient than in 1795-6, and in August and September several riots took place at Birmingham, Oxford, Nottingham, Coventry, Norwich, Stamford, Portsmouth, Sheffield, Worcester, and many other places. The markets were interrupted, and the populace compelled the farmers, etc., to sell their provisions at a low price.
At last these riots extended to London, beginning in a very small way. Late at night on Saturday, September 13, or early on Sunday, the 14th, two large, written placards were pasted on the Monument, the text of which was—
‘Bread will be sixpence the quartern, if the people will assemble at the Corn Market on Monday.
‘FELLOW COUNTRYMEN,
‘How long will ye quietly and cowardly suffer yourselves to be imposed upon and half-starved by a set of mercenary slaves and Government hirelings? Can you still suffer them to proceed in their extensive monopolies while your children are crying for bread? No! let them not exist a day longer. We are the sovereignty; rise then from your lethargy. Be at the Corn Market on Monday.’
By means of these placards, and handbills to the same effect, a mob of over a thousand was collected in Mark Lane by nine a.m., and their number was doubled in another hour. They hissed and pelted the corn factors; but, about eleven a.m., when they began to break windows, the Lord Mayor appeared upon the spot. In vain he assured them that their behaviour could in no way affect the market. They only yelled at him, ‘Cheap bread!’ ‘Birmingham and Nottingham for ever!’ ‘Three loaves for eighteen-pence,’ etc. They even hissed the Lord Mayor and smashed the windows close by him. This was more than he could bear, and he ordered the Riot Act to be read. The constables charged the mob, who, of course, fled, and the Lord Mayor returned to the Mansion House.
They only went to other parts of the City, and, when night fell, they began smashing windows, etc. At last, fear of their firing the City induced the authorities to invoke the assistance of some Volunteers and Militia, and by their efforts the mob was driven over London Bridge into Southwark, where they rendered the night lively by breaking windows, etc.
For a day or two there was peace; but on the morning and during the day and night of the 18th of September the mob had it all their own way, breaking windows and pillaging. A royal proclamation was issued, calling on the civil authorities to suppress these riots, which was done at last by means of cavalry and Volunteers, but only after the mob having two more days’ uncontrolled possession of London. But the people in the country were not so quickly satisfied; their wages were smaller than those of their London brethren, and they proportionately felt the pinch more acutely. In some instances they were put down by force, in others the price of bread was lowered; but it is impossible at this time to take up a newspaper and not find some notice of or allusion to a food riot.
The importation of foreign corn supplied the deficiency of the English crops, and bread was moderately cheap; but in 1815, probably with a view to assuage the agricultural distress then prevalent, a measure was proposed and passed by which foreign corn was to be prohibited, except when wheat had reached 80s. a quarter—a price considered by the great body of consumers as exorbitant. A resolution was passed ‘That it is the opinion of the Committee that any sort of foreign corn, meal, or flour, which may by law be imported into the United Kingdom shall at all times be allowed to be brought into the United Kingdom, and to be warehoused there, without payment of any duty whatever.’
The popular feeling was well worked on; and on March 6 groups of people assembled near the Houses of Parliament, about the usual time of meeting, hooting or cheering the members, and occasionally stopping a carriage and making its occupant walk through the crowd, which at last got so unruly that it was obliged to be dispersed by the military. Yet the whole night they were parading the streets, breaking windows, and yelling: ‘No Corn Bill!’ This conduct continued for two nights longer, until the rioters had almost worn themselves out, when an increase of military force finally extinguished the rising. But there were riots all over the country.
In 1828 an Act of Parliament was passed which fixed the duty on foreign wheat according to a ‘sliding scale,’ whereby it was diminished from 1l. 5s. 8d. per quarter whenever the average price of all England was under 62s., and was gradually reduced, as wheat rose in price, until the duty stood at 1s. when wheat was 73s. and upwards.
Great agitation prevailed as to free corn; and on September 18, 1838, the Anti-Corn Law League, for procuring the repeal of the laws charging duty upon the importation of corn, was founded at Manchester. This organisation lectured, harangued, distributed pamphlets, and was perpetually in evidence—and at last succeeded in its object.
The 5 Vict., c. 14 (April 29, 1842), was a revised sliding scale. When wheat was under 51s. the duty to be 1l.; when 73s. and over, 1s.; and this lasted until the Corn Importation Bill (9, 10, Vic., c. 22) was passed on June 26, 1846, which reduced the duty on wheat to 4s. when imported at or above 53s., until Feb. 1, 1849, when 1s. duty per quarter only was to be levied on all kinds of imported grain. This shilling was taken off on June 24, 1869, and there is now no hindrance of any sort to the importation of foreign corn.
Although there was fierce political contention over the Anti-Corn Law agitation physical force was not resorted to, and the next bread riots we hear of were in 1855. They seem to have begun at Liverpool, where, on Feb. 19, an unruly mob took possession of the city, clamouring for bread and looting the bakers’ shops. The police were unable to cope with the riot; therefore, special constables were sworn in and peace was restored towards evening. Next day about 60 prisoners were brought before the magistrates; some were committed for trial, others sentenced to one, two, or three months’ imprisonment.
The riot spread to London, and during the night of Feb. 21 and the whole day of Feb. 22 the East End and South of London were terrorised by bands of men perambulating the streets and demanding bread and money from the inhabitants; some shops were looted, but, thanks to the police and the distribution of a large quantity of bread, serious consequences were averted. Several arrests were made and punishment duly meted out.
On September 14, 1855, there were bread riots in Nottingham, where the mob broke the bakers’ windows and proceeded to such extremities that special constables were sworn in and peace was restored.
On three successive Sundays, October 14, 21, and 28, 1855, there were disorderly meetings on account of the dearness of bread held in Hyde Park; the windows of many houses were smashed, but the disturbances hardly amounted to riot; and the same occurred on November 4, 11, and 18, but the police prevented the mob from doing much mischief. Since then we have never known a bread riot, although the unemployed, Anarchists, etc., have at times been troublesome.
As might be expected in an article of such worldwide consumption as bread, there is a considerable amount of folk-lore and sayings attendant on it. We can even find it in Shakespeare, for, in Hamlet (Act iv. s. 5), Ophelia says: ‘They say the owl was a baker’s daughter.’ This, unless one knew the Gloucestershire legend, would be unintelligible, but the bit of folk-lore makes it all clear. The story goes that our Saviour went into a baker’s shop, where they were baking, and asked for some bread to eat. The mistress of the shop immediately put a piece of dough into the oven to bake for Him, but was reprimanded by her daughter, who, insisting that the piece of dough was too large, reduced it to a very small size. The dough, however, immediately afterwards began to swell, and presently became a most enormous loaf; whereupon the baker’s daughter cried out: ‘Heugh! heugh! heugh!’ which owl-like noise probably induced our Saviour to transform her into that bird. This tradition is also current in Wales; but, there, the baker’s daughter altogether refuses to give Jesus a bit of dough, for which He changed her into the Cassek gwenwyn, lilith, lamia, strix, the night-spectre, mara, the screech-owl.
In the catalogue of the pictures at Kenilworth, belonging to Queen Elizabeth’s Earl of Leicester at the time of his death (September 4, 1588), are ‘The Picture of King Philip, with a Curtaine,’ and ‘The Picture of the Baker’s Daughter, with a Curtaine.’ And he had a copy of the same, or another picture of ‘The Baker’s Daughter,’ at his house at Wanstead. Whether this was a picture of the foregoing legend or not, no one can tell; but it has been suggested, from the fact of King Philip and the baker’s daughter coming in sequence in the catalogue, that it was the portrait of a female respecting whom there was some scandal current during Mary’s lifetime; it being said in an old ballad that Philip loved
Here is another story of miraculous bread. The Mirakel Steeg (Miracle Street), at Leyden, derives its name from a miracle which happened there in 1315, and which is thus related in the Kronyk van Holland van den Klerk: ‘In the aforesaid year of famine, in the town of Leyden, there occurred a signal miracle to two women who lived next door to each other; for one having bought a barley loaf she cut it into two pieces and laid one half by, for that was all her living, because of the great dearness and famine that prevailed. And as she stood, and was cutting off the one half for her children, her neighbour, who was in great want and need through hunger, saw her, and begged her, for God’s sake, to give her the other half, and she would pay her well. But she denied again and again, and affirmed mightily and by oath that she had no other bread, and as her neighbour would not believe her, she said in an angry mood: “If I have any bread in my house more than this, I pray God that it may turn to stone.” Then her neighbour left her and went away. But when the first half of the loaf was eaten up, and she went for the other half which she had laid by, that bread was become stone, which stone, just as the bread was, is now at Leyden, at St. Peter’s Church, and as a sign they are wont, on all high feast days, to lay it before the Holy Ghost.’
A stone loaf, supposed to be this one, is now shown at the hospital in Middelburg, where, in the vestibule, hangs an old picture representing the miracle at Leyden. The original stone loaf, it is believed, disappeared from Leyden about the time of the Reformation.
Of all extraordinary uses to which a loaf of bread could be put is that of ‘sin eating,’ by which, at a funeral, a man was found who would for a small fee eat a loaf of bread, in the eating of which he was supposed to take the dead man’s sins upon himself. In a letter from John Bagford, a famous bookseller, dated February 1, 1714-15, relating to the antiquities of London, which is printed in Leland’s Collectanea, he says: ‘Within the memory of our fathers in Shropshire, in those villages adjoyning to Wales, when a person dyed there was notice given to an old sire (for so they called him), who presently repaired to the place where the deceased lay, and stood before the door of the house, when some of the family came out and furnished him with a cricket, on which he sat down, facing the door. Then they gave him a groat, which he put in his pocket; a crust of bread, which he eat; and a full bowle of ale, which he drank off at a draught. After this he got up from the cricket and pronounced, with a composed gesture, the ease and rest of the soul departed, for which he would pawn his own soul. This I had from the ingenious John Aubrey, Esq., who made a collection of curious observations, which I have seen, and is now remaining in the hands of Mr. Churchill, the bookseller. How can a man think otherwise of this than it proceeded from the ancient heathens?’
This MS. of Aubrey’s, of which Bagford speaks, is, most probably, that now preserved in the British Museum (Lansdowne MSS. 231) entitled ‘Romains of Gentilisme and Judaisme,’ and dated February, 1686-7. In it he thus writes:
‘Sinne-eaters.—In the County of Hereford was an old custom at funeralls to have poor people, who were to take upon them all the sinnes of the party deceased. One of them, I remember, lived in a cottage on Rosse Highway. (He was a long, lean, ugly, lamentable poor raskal.) The manner was, that when the Corps was brought out of the house, and layd on the Biere, a Loafe of bread was brought out, and delivered to the Sinne-eater over the corps, as also a Mazar-bowle of Maple (Gossips’ bowle) full of beer, which he was to drinke up, and sixpence in money, in consideration whereof he tooke upon him (ipso facto) all the Sinnes of the Defunct, and freed him (or her) from walking after they were dead. This custome alludes (methinkes) something to the Scapegoate in ye old Lawe. Leviticus, cap. xvi. verse 21-22: “And Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goate, and confesse over him all ye iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away, by the hand of a fitt man, into the wildernesse.” This custome (though rarely used in our dayes) yet by some people was continued even in the strictest time of ye Presbyterian government; as at Dynder, nolens volens the Parson of ye Parish, the relations of a woman deceased there had the ceremonie punctually performed according to her Will; also the like was done at ye City of Hereford, in these times, when a woman kept, manie yeares before her death, a Mazard bowle for the sinne-eater; and the like as in other places in this Countie, as also in Brecon, e.g., at Llangors, where Mr. Givin, the minister, about 1640, could no hinder ye performing of this ancient custome. I believe this custome was, heretofore, used all over Wales’.
‘See Juvenal, Satyr vi. (519-521) where he speaks of throwing purple thread into the river to carry away one’s sinnes.
‘In North Wales the Sinne-eaters are frequently made use of; but there, instead of a Bowle of Beere, they have a bowle of Milke.
‘Methinkes, Doles to Poore people with money at Funeralls have some resemblance to that of ye Sinne-eater. Doles at Funeralls were continued at gentlemen’s funerals in the West of England till the Civil-warre. And so in Germany at rich men’s funerals Doles are in use, and to everyone a quart of strong and good beer.’
Anent these doles, Pennant says it was customary, when the corpse was brought out of the house and laid upon the bier, for the next-of-kin, be it widow, mother, sister, or daughter (for it must be a female), to give over the coffin a quantity of white loaves in a great dish, and sometimes a cheese, with a piece of money stuck in it, to certain poor persons. After that they presented in the same manner a cup of drink, and required the person to drink a little of it immediately.
Sin-eating survived the times of Aubrey and Bagford, for in a book, Christmas Evans, the Preacher of Wild Wales, by the Rev. Paxton Hood, Lond., 1881, he says: ‘The superstition of the Sin-eater is said to linger, even now, in the secluded vale of Cwm-Aman, in Carmarthenshire. The meaning of this most singular institution of superstition was, that when a person died, the friends sent for the Sin-Eater of the district, who, on his arrival, placed a plate of salt and bread on the breast of the deceased person; he then uttered an incantation over the bread, after which he proceeded to eat it, thereby eating the sins of the dead person; this done, he received a fee of two and sixpence, which, we suppose, was much more than many a preacher received for a long and painful service. Having received this, he vanished as quickly as possible, all the friends and relatives of the departed aiding his exit with blows and kicks, and other indications of their faith in the service he had rendered. A hundred years since, and through the ages before that time, we suppose this curious superstition was everywhere prevalent.’
Bread and salt are used in several ways. In Russia, Servia, and wherever the Greek Church holds sway, they are presented to honoured guests as a welcome. The custom even obtains in England. A correspondent of Notes and Queries (5 Series ix. 48), says: ‘Some years since I called for the first time on Canon Percy, of Carlisle, at his residence there. When refreshments had been offered and declined, he said: “You must have some bread and salt,” with some remarks to imply that it was the way to establish a friendship. These were then brought in and eaten, without anything to lead one to suppose that this was an unusual custom in the house.’
There was another curious custom in the North of England, as another correspondent shows in the same volume (p. 138): ‘In the North Riding, 20 or 30 years ago, a roll of new bread, a pinch of table salt, and a new silver groat, or fourpenny-piece, were offered to every babe on its first visit to a friend’s house. The gift was certainly made, more than once, to me, and I recollect seeing it made to other babies. The groat was reserved for its proper owner, but the nurse, who carried that owner, appropriated the bread and salt, and was gratified with a half-crown or so.’ Several other correspondents confirm this, and somewhat enlarge upon it, including in the gift an egg and a match. One (5 Ser. x. 216) thus explains the custom: ‘The custom of presenting an egg, etc., is widely distributed. I can answer for it in Lincolnshire, Yorkshire, and Durham. In Lincolnshire, at the first visit of a new baby at a friendly house, it is presented with “an egg, both meat and drink; salt, which savours everything; bread, the staff of life; a match, to light it through the world; and a coin, that it may never want money.” This is the case at Winterton, where it is still done. In Durham, a piece of christening-cake is hidden under the child’s robe, and given to the first person of the opposite sex met on coming out of church. This is wholly distinct from the egg presentation.’ It is common at Edinburgh, and in other parts of Scotland, to give bread and cheese, on the Sabbath, to the first person of the opposite sex met with when the baby is taken to church to be baptised.
One of the most peculiar uses to which a loaf of bread could be put is the discovery of the bodies of drowned persons. The earliest instance I can find is in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1767, p. 189. (It is also in the Annual Register for the same year.) ‘Wednesday, April 8.—An inquisition was taken, at Newbery, Berks, on the body of a child, near two years old, who fell into the river Kennet and was drowned. The jury brought in their verdict, Accidental death. The body was discovered by a very singular experiment, which was as follows: After diligent search had been made in the river for the child, to no purpose, a twopenny leaf, with a quantity of quicksilver put into it, was set floating from the place where the child, it was supposed, had fallen in, which steered its course down the river, upwards of half a mile, before a great number of spectators, when the body, happening to lay on the contrary side of the river, the loaf suddenly tacked about, and swam across the river, and gradually sunk near the child, when both the child and loaf were immediately brought up with grubbers ready for that purpose.’
This superstition has survived till modern times, as the following three or four instances will show. On January 24, 1872, a boy named Harris fell into the stream at Sherborne, Dorsetshire, near Dark Hole Mill, and was drowned. The body not having been found for some days, the following expedient was adopted to discover its whereabouts: On January 30, a four-pound loaf, of the best flour, was procured, and a small piece cut out of its side, forming a cavity, into which a little quicksilver was poured. The piece was then replaced and tied firmly in its original position. The loaf, thus prepared, was then thrown into the river at the spot where the boy fell in, and was expected to float down the stream until it came to the place where the body was supposed to have lodged, when it began to eddy round and round, thus indicating the sought-for spot; but on this occasion there was no result.
A writer in Notes and Queries, January 3, 1878, p. 8, says: ‘A young woman has singularly disappeared at Swinton, near Sheffield. The canal has been unsuccessfully dragged, and the Swinton folk are now going to test the merits of a local superstition which afirms that a loaf of bread containing quicksilver, if cast upon the water, will drift to, keep afloat, and remain stationary over any dead body which may be lying immersed out of sight.’
The Leeds Mercury, October 26, 1883, has the following: ‘A Press Association despatch says: Adelaide Amy Terry, servant to Dr. Williams, of Brentford, was sent to a neighbour with a message on Sunday evening, and as she did not return, and was known to be short-sighted, it was feared she had fallen into the canal, which was dragged, but without success. On Tuesday an old bargewoman suggested that a loaf of bread, in which some quicksilver had been placed, should be floated in the water. This was done, and the loaf became stationary at a certain spot The dragging was resumed there, and the body was discovered.’
The following is from the Stamford Mercury, December 18, 1885: ‘At Ketton, on Tuesday, an inquest was held by Mr. Shield, coroner, touching the death of Harry Baker, aged twenty-three, who was missed on the night of November 27, after the termination of the polling for the county election, and was believed to have walked into the ford, near the stone bridge, during the darkness. The river at that time was running strongly, and deceased had no companions with him. The dragging-irons from Stamford were obtained, and a protracted search was made in the river, but without result. However, in obedience to the wish of Baker’s mother, a loaf charged with quicksilver (said to have been scraped from an old looking-glass) was cast upon the waters, and it came to a standstill in the river at the bottom of Mr. Lewin’s field. Here the grappling-hooks were put in, and at four o’clock on Monday afternoon last the corpse was brought to the surface, having been in the water seventeen days. The river had been dragged several times before at this spot.’
Nor is this superstition confined to England, for in Brittany, when the body of a drowned man cannot be found, a lighted taper is fixed in a loaf consecrated to St. Nicholas, which is then abandoned to the retreating current, and where the loaf stops there they expect to find the body. In Germany the name of the drowned person is inscribed on the bread. And a somewhat similar idea seems to obtain among the Canadian Indians, for Sir Jas. E. Alexander, in his L’Acadie (p. 26), says: ‘The Indians imagine that in the case of a drowned body its place may be discovered by floating a chip of cedar-wood, which will stop and turn round over the exact spot. An instance occurred within my own knowledge in the case of Mr. Lavery, of Kingston Mill, whose boat overset, and the person was drowned near Cedar Island; nor could the body be discovered until the experiment was resorted to.’
Aubrey (Remains of Gentilisme and Judaisme) says he had the following from old Mr. Frederick Vaughan: ‘The Friar’s Mendicant heretofore would take their opportunity to come to the houses when the good woemen did bake, and would read a Ghospel over the batch, and the good woman would give them a cake, etc. It should seem by Chaucer’s tale that they had a fashion to beg in rhyme—