Come A Pace-Egging

So it's Easter (or "Eostre", as it was known before Christians came along and bizarrely claimed that they'd invented the festival) and we're all celebrating new life by stuffing our arteries with chocolate. In a few places around the Midlands and the North, they still perform the traditional Pace Egg Plays - a custom very nearly killed off by the First World War, which robbed industrial towns of a generation of young men. Pace-egging is also celebrated in a fair few English folk songs, notably one that originated in Heysham in Lancashire - just down the road from where I used to live - and dates from the early nineteenth century, celebrating the naval heroes of the age:

Here's one two three jolly lads all in one mind
We are come a pace-egging and I hope you'll prove kind
And I hope you'll prove kind with your eggs and strong beer
For we'll come no more nigh you until the next year

And the first that comes in is Lord Nelson you'll see
With a bunch of blue ribbons tied round by his knee
And a star on his breast that like silver doth shine
And I hope he remembers it's pace-egging time

And the next that comes in it is Lord Collingwood
And he fought with Lord Nelson till he shed his blood
And he's come from the sea, old England to view
And he's come a-pace-egging with all of his crew

The next that comes in is old miser Brownbags
For fear of her money she wears her old rags
She's gold and she's silver all laid up in store
And she's come a-pace-egging in hopes to get more

And the last that comes in is Old Tosspot you'll see
He's a valiant old man in every degree
He's a valiant old man and he wears a pigtail
And all his delight is a-drinking mulled ale

Come ladies and gentlemen sit by the fire
Put your hands in your pockets and give us our desire
Put your hands in your pockets and treat us all right
If you give nowt, we'll take nowt, farewell and good night


Here's to an enjoyable weekend - preferably filled with eggs and strong beer.