In North Lincolnshire there is an odd tradition to mark Twelfth Night where regulars from four pubs in the Isle of Axholme, in the villages of Haxey and Westwoodside, battle it out for the hood. It looked like a health and safety nightmare and I witnessed many casualties limping from the field. While I was working in Scunthorpe I used to regularly provide cover on the Axholme Herald when the editor was on holiday or ill and a version of this article also appeared in that paper the following week.

IT WAS a mammoth struggle for the hood this year, with those from Westwoodside putting up a valiant fight, but the long, leather cylinder stayed in Haxey for another year.
Yesterday saw the annual fight for the Haxey Hood, and after two hours, the prize was in the hands of the landlord of the Loco pub.

Regulars from four hostelries – Haxey village’s Duke William, The King’s Arms and The Loco, and neighbouring village Westwoodside’s Carpenter’s Arms – fought valiantly for the hood.
The four armies representing these pubs met on a mud-free field near the village of Haxey in the Isle’s own traditional Twelfth Night celebration, which dates back nearly 800 years.
With blackened face, the ceremonial Fool, Dale Smith (37), shouted out the rules of the game – which has been described as a combination of mob football, a giant rugby scrum and mud wrestling.
This was his 10th year as the Fool and he had previously been a boggin – a helper who dresses in a red sweater – for nine years before he took over as the comical character.

He said he would keep going ‘as long as they let him’. “It brings the village together and is an absolutely wonderful day,” he said.
Mr Smith added he enjoyed everything about the day, especially the speech, as well as being set on fire, drinking and singing the three traditional songs.
This year’s proceedings began at 2.30pm, as usual, when the Fool leapt on to the ancient stone in front of the parish church to deliver his annual address: “Hoose agin hoose, toon agin toon, if thee meet a man knock him doon – but don’t hurt him,” he said.
Then, he was promptly grabbed by the boggins and smoked over burning straw to purify him, before the Lord led everybody to Upperthorpe Hill.

False ‘sack’ hoods were flung up for lucky children to grab.

James Chatwin (31), of Haxey, has been a boggin for the past eight years. He said: “It’s in our blood – I’m Haxey born and bred, I couldn’t give it up.”
Fellow boggin Simon Andrew (40), of Westwoodside, said: “There’s a great atmosphere, the people are friendly, you only have to look round to see everyone’s enjoying themselves.
“It’s for a good cause and the money raised goes directly back into our community.”
Lord of the Hood Phil Coggon said: “The hood is more important than Christmas or new year in this village – it draws people home again and that’s the best bit about it. The hood is about tradition, about seeing friends and family again.”
The event officially dates back to 1213, and the ancient game is held to be Britain’s oldest traditional tussle.

The scrum, called the sway, starts when a long leather cylinder – the hood – is flung into the air to launch the proceedings.
All the participants swarm around it and strive to ‘sway’ the hood out of the field, through the streets and all the way back to their favourite hostelry – for a victory celebration and the honour of holding it for the coming year.
The Lord of the Hood is aided by his chief boggin, both in scarlet hunting coats and hats decorated with flowers and plumes, assisted by their band of red-sweatered boggins.
According to legend, it all started when the Lady de Mowbray was out riding in the 13th century. She was taken unawares by a sudden burst of wind which blew her hat off. So the local yokels chased after it.

From the Scunthorpe Telegraph on Friday, January 7, 2005.