Last week I wrote
about one tradition in my home town of Preston. Today, with Q as my letter
of the week, I’ll tell you about another ‘quaint and quirky’ tradition in the town, as it’s
one I took part in as a child – egg-rolling.
The tradition of
rolling decorated eggs down a grassy slope goes back hundreds of years. Evidently,
in pre-Christian times, the Saxons had a spring goddess called Eostre, whose
feast day was held in March. The rebirth of the land in the spring was
symbolised by the egg. When England became Christian, a lot of pagan traditions
were incorporated into Christian festivals. Thus, the celebration of the death
and resurrection was named Easter, and rolling eggs became symbolic of the
rolling away of the stone from the tomb.
In Preston, egg-rolling
has taken place on Easter Monday (ever since Victorian times) at Avenham Park, near the town centre. The grassy
area in the middle of the park is a natural amphitheatre, with a long slope
down towards the River Ribble. Hundreds of children brought their hard-boiled
eggs to roll down the slope. Some wore homemade ‘Easter bonnets’ too, but I don’t
recall ever making or wearing one.
When my mother
was a child, she said her egg was wrapped in an onion skin and boiled, which gave it a
mottled yellowy-brown colour. I seem to remember we tried that once, but must
have done something wrong as the egg was hardly coloured at all! Instead, I used
to paint my egg (with watercolour paints – felt-tipped pens didn’t exist
then!). Sometimes I painted it in
stripes or squares, other times I drew squiggly, criss-crossed lines in
different colours.
Once the egg had
been rolled down the grassy slope (and I’d chased down down after it, usually several times), I could peel the
shell and eat the egg. My mum always told me to crush the egg shell. Otherwise
(according to an old Lancashire tradition), the witches would steal the shell
and use it as a boat!
If, as sometimes
happened, it was raining on Easter Monday, I still had to roll my egg – but across
the carpet in the living room until it cracked against the metal fender of the
hearth. Not quite the same somehow! Nowadays, children roll
chocolate eggs down the slope – again, not the same as the ‘real’ thing.
Here’s a link to a video
of last year’s egg-rolling at the park.
I think the custom is fairly universal in the North of England, although we never did it in my home town of Heckmondwike. Nor did we have Easter bonnets. What I do remember is that everyone got new clothes at Whitsuntide and we all paraded through the streets. In Manchester they did this at Easter, not Whitsuntide.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it all depended on whether you had a grassy slope nearby, Jenny?
ReplyDeleteIn Preston, Easter was the time for new clothes, but I don't recall any Easter or Whit parades there. Manchester, of course, has always had its Whit Walks.
Yes I remember the Whitsuntide new clothes and also the splendid Whit walks which have all but died a death in Manchester. There are lots of Easter traditions.
ReplyDeleteI agree, chocolate eggs are just not the same, Paula.
We did that every Easter day in our part of Scotland too, Paula! I loved the egg rolling and must remember to tell my granddaughter when she's old enough.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun custom! If I had a hard boiled egg, I'd go rolling right now.
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