British Popular Customs, Present and Past. T. F. Thiselton-Dyer

from Pepys, as to the old methods of choosing, or avoiding to choose, Valentines. When he went early on Valentine’s Day to Sir W. Batten’s, he says he would not go in “till I asked whether they that opened the doors was a man or a woman; and Mingo who was there, answered, a woman, which, with his tone, made me laugh; so up I went, and took Mrs. Martha for my Valentine (which I do only for complacency); and Sir W. Batten, he go in the same manner to my wife, and so we were very merry.” On the following anniversary the diarist tells us that Will Bowyer came to be his wife’s Valentine, “she having (at which I made good sport to myself) held her hands all the morning, that she might not see the painters that were at work gilding my chimney-piece and pictures in my dining-room.” It would seem, moreover, that a man was not free from the pleasing pains of Valentineship when the festival day was over. On Shrove Tuesday, March 3rd, 1663, after dinner, says Pepys, “Mrs. The. showed me my name upon her breast as her Valentine, which,” he added, “will cost me 30s.” Again, in 1667, a fortnight after the actual day Pepys was with his wife at the Exchange, “and there bought things for Mrs. Pierce’s little daughter, my Valentine (which,” he says, “I was not sorry for, it easing me of something more than I must have given to others), and so to her house, where we find Knipp, who also challenged me for her Valentine;” of course, Pepys had to pay the usual homage in acknowledgment of such choice. Then, as Pepys had a little girl for Valentine, so boys were welcomed to early gallantry by the ladies. A thoroughly domestic scene is revealed to us on Valentine’s Day, 1665:

      “This morning comes betimes Dickie Pen, to be my wife’s Valentine, and came to our bedside. By the same token, I had been brought to my bedside thinking to have made him kiss me; but he perceived me, and would not, so went to his Valentine—a notable, stout, witty boy.”

      When a lady drew a Valentine, a gentleman so drawn would have been deemed shabby if he did not accept the honour and responsibility. On the 14th February, 1667, we have the following:

      “This morning called up by Mr. Hill, who, my wife thought, had come to be her Valentine—she, it seems, having drawn him; but it proved not. However, calling him up to our bedside, my wife challenged him.”

      Where men could thus intrude, boys like Dickie Pen could boldly go. Thus in 1667:

      “This morning came up to my wife’s bedside little Will Mercer, to be her Valentine; and brought her name writ upon blue paper, in gold letters, done by himself very pretty; and we were both well pleased with it.”

      The drawing of names and name-inscriptions were remnants of old customs before the Christian era. Alban Butler, under the head of “St. Valentine, Priest and Martyr,” says:

      “To abolish the heathens’ lewd, superstitious custom of boys drawing the names of girls in honour of their goddess, Februata Juno, on the 15th of the month (the drawing being on the eve of the 14th), several zealous pastors substituted the names of saints in billets given on this day.” This does not, however, seem to have taken place till the time of St. Francis de Sales, who, in the beginning of the seventeenth century, as we are told in his Life, “severely forbade the custom of Valentines, or giving boys in writing the names of girls to be admired or attended on by them; and to abolish it, he changed it into giving billets with the names of certain saints for them to honour and imitate in a particular manner.”

      To the drawing of names—those of the saints gave way to living objects of adoration—was first added, in 1667, a custom out of which has sprung the modern epistolary Valentine. In the February of that year Pepys writes:

      “I do first observe the fashion of drawing of mottoes as well as names; so that Pierce, who drew my wife’s, did draw also a motto, ‘most courteous and most fair;’ which, as it may be used, or an anagram made upon each name, might be very pretty.”

      The Valentines of chance were those who drew names; the Valentines by choice were made by those who could not open their eyes on Valentine’s morn till the one he or she most desired to see was near. The one by chance sometimes proved to be the one by choice also, and such were true Valentines. N. & Q. 4th S. vol. xi. p. 129, 130.

      Pennant, in his Tour in Scotland, tells us that in February young persons draw Valentines, and from thence collect their future fortune in the nuptial state; and Goldsmith, in his Vicar of Wakefield, describing the manners of some parties, tells us they sent true-love knots on Valentine morning.

      St. Valentine’s Day is alluded to by Shakspeare and by Chaucer, and also by the poet Lydgate, the monk of Bury (who died in 1440). One of the earliest known writers of Valentines was Charles, Duke of Orleans, who was taken at the Battle of Agincourt. See Every Day Book, vol. i. p. 215.

      A singular custom prevailed many years ago in the west of England. Three single young men went out together before daylight on St. Valentine’s Day, with a clap-net to catch an old owl and two sparrows in a neighbouring barn. If they were successful and could bring the birds without injury to the inn before the females of the house had risen, they were rewarded by the hostess with three pots of purl in honour of St. Valentine, and enjoyed the privilege of demanding at any house in the neighbourhood a similar boon. This was done as an emblem that the owl, being the bird of wisdom, could influence the feathered race to enter the net of love as mates on that day, whereon both single lads and maidens should be reminded that happiness could alone be secured by an early union.—Every Day Book, vol. i. p. 227.

Cambridgeshire.

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      In the village of Duxford and other adjoining parishes the custom of “valentining” is still in feeble existence. The children go in a body round to the parsonage and the farm-houses, singing:

      “Curl your looks as I do mine,

       Two before and three behind,

       So good morning, Valentine.

       Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!”

      They start about 9 A.M. on their expedition, which must be finished by noon; otherwise their singing is not acknowledged in any way. In some few cases the donor gives each child a halfpenny, others throw from their doors the coppers they feel disposed to part with amongst the little band of choristers, which are eagerly scrambled after.—The Antiquary, 1873, vol. iii. p. 103.

Derbyshire.

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      The following customs, which have nearly died out, were very prevalent about fifty or sixty years ago:

      Valentine Dealing.

      —Each young woman in the house would procure several slips of paper, and write upon them the names of the young men she knew, or those she had a preference for. The slips when ready were put into a boot or shoe (a man’s), or else into a hat, and shaken up. Each lassie then put in her hand and drew a slip, which she read and retained until every one had drawn. The slips were then put back and the drawing done over again, which ceremony was performed three times. If a girl drew the same slip thrice, she was sure to be married in a short time, and to a person of the same name as that which was written upon the thrice drawn slip.

      Looking through the Keyhole.

      —On the early morn of St. Valentine, young women would look through the keyhole of the house door. If they saw only a single object or person they would remain unmarried all that year. If they saw, however, two or more objects or persons, they would be sure to have a sweetheart, and that in no distant time; but if fortune so favoured them that by chance they saw a cock and a hen, they might be quite certain of being married before the year was out.

      Sweeping the girls

      was another real old Derbyshire custom. If a girl