From the Surrey Comet 17 February 1866- report on Shrove Tuesday football in Kingston.

KINGSTON.
FOOTBALL DAY.
Shrove Tuesday brought round with it the annual observance of the old custom of playing football in the public streets of Kingston, and the old scene of closed shops and barricaded windows, of business suspended as if the town had lost its senses, and gone into mourning for them, and of people out to see two or three score of powerful and reckless fellows contending in a rough and tumble game for the possession of the ball, that they might, at the risk of being dragged limb from limb, or being forced down and suffocated, carry it to some public-house, and receive the gallon of beer, or whatever quantity it may be, that has come to be the established reward of the particular kind of merit.

The proceedings of Shrove Tuesday last were much the same as on its immediate predecessors, with the notable exception that the present Mayor of Kingston has set the good example of withdrawing all Corporate countenance from the custom by declining to have the first "Free kick" at the ball, which distinction is usually accorded, in virtue of his official position, to the first magistrate of the borough. This act of the Mayor will not be without its moral effect, and will perhaps hasten the day when the opinions so constantly heard in private, will be loudly and publicly expressed, that the game ought no longer to be played in the public thoroughfares, to the injury of the great majority of the tradesmen of the town. No future Mayor, now that one has been found with sufficient firmness to break through an obnoxious custom, will be likely to take the retrograde step of presenting himself to encourage the few in preserving in a practice condemned by the good sense of the many. That there are very few indeed of the men of the town who care two straws for the football, we firmly believe. We may here remark that some of the innkeepers this year declined to have anything to do with it.

The head-quarters were this year at the Druid's Head, in the Market-place, from one of the windows of which projected a long pole, with a football dangling at the end, looking as resplendent as gold leaf could make it. Previous to 11 o'clock, other balls of corresponding magnificence, were carried in procession around the town, in their train being the imposing array of half-a-dozen men with flags, a band of music, and some 50 boys; it was noticeable that but very few men indeed joined in the opening perambulation of the town. In front of the Town-hall there were, it is true, some two or three hundred gathered, though not so many as there were last year, and it was remarked by many during the day, that those most active in the game were people not belonging to Kingston, but from neighbouring villages.

If a blue smock necessarily proclaim the butcher, then the butcher element largely preponderated among the roughs, who had put on their roughest costume for the occasion. At 11 o'clock the "pancake ball' chimed forth from the church, and those who meant business put their caps in their pockets, or disposed of them somehow, and awaited bareheaded the coming of the ball. The band played the National Anthem, to give a flavour of loyalty to the affair, and immediately afterwards the ball was thrown from the balcony of the Town-hall, and the struggle began. It had scarcely been a minute among the crowd before it was "hugged", a process to be seen, perhaps to be participated in, before its peculiar excellence can be fully realised. One fellow holds the ball tight, and presses in the direction of the public that he affects. As many others as can by any possibility get hold of him, pull and wrench at him in every direction, and while the mass sway to and fro, others are lifted up, and scrambling on all fours over the others' heads, do their best to snatch the ball away or suffocate the holder, who, if he had a finger at liberty, which fortunately under the circumstances he has not, would take out his clasp knife and stab the ball. From this description it will at once be seen how great an amount of pleasurable excitement is to be obtained by this mode of playing the game by those who are not particular about such trifling matters as being sat upon and throttled, having their ribs crunched, shins kicked, and toes ground under heals none of the lightest.

After a desperate tussle, which lasted several minutes, the ball was got away, and kicked into Thames-Street. It was resplendent no longer, the gilding having disappeared without leaving a vestige behind. From Thames-street it was kicked up the bridge, over it, and into the wharf. Presently it emerged again by Bridge-street, and was kicked back through Thames-street, there being another long hugging match in the corner near the Market-place. Shortly after this it was got into the Wheatsheaf, into which the mob swarmed like flies through a bole in a sugar cask, until no more could be squeezed in. After an interval, during which we presume the ball and its captors were "wetted," the ball was thrown from an upper window, and a fresh contest arose. It was shortly afterwards got into the Druid's Head, twice in succession, and a new ball was started. The ball was at one time kicked to the railings of Clattern Bridge, and an
attempt was made to throw it into the water, which was very deep, the brook being greatly swollen, but the attempt failed, although later in the day this actually occurred. About 12 o'clock the ball was got to a considerable distance from the Market-place; once it was kicked into the Kingston brewery, and the mob burst the gate open in pursuit of it. The proprietor of the brewery had subscribed a guinea to the football, but his generosity was ill-requited, as his son had his coat torn, a circumstance which goes to prove the statement that the principal players were not Kingston men. At this time we should say that there were not more than 30 or 40 actively participating in the game, although many more were following, and lookers on were numerous.

Among the most conspicuous of the players during the morning was a youth, apparently of a superior class, who shone conspicuous from the fact that nature had widowed him with a fine head of hair, of the true Saxon breed, and remarkable for its warmth of colour. From a long distance off the whereabouts of the ball could be seen at once, distinguished by the presence of the meteor head, which gleamed from afar like a beacon. The spectators noted his zeal, and encouraged the golden-haired with a friendly cry of " Go it, ginger." Towards midday very few were following the town-ball, which about this time was kicked into the police-yard, and thence into the Fairfield. In the afternoon, and towards the close of the play, the numbers of the followers had increased greatly, and the Market-place and High-street were thronged with spectators. Just before 5 o'clock the ball was kicked into Clattern-brook, but none were venturous enough to go in after it. Stones were thrown till it was driven ashore and fetched out with a rake. At 5 o'clock the bell again rang, and a procession was again formed, with the band of music as before. The assemblage was far more numerous than in the morning, and must have comprised some hundreds, while the Market-place and approaches were thronged.

The principal figures in the procession bore evident signs of the violent and boisterous game they had been engaged in. With their smocks torn nearly off their backs; their faces red, and reeking with sweat and dirt; their staggering gait showing that they had "wetted" until they wore pretty well "soaked," their hot breath steaming into the air and not improving it; as they marched arm-in-arm, they looked as rough a lot as one could desire to see; at their heels swarmed a crowd of urchins. In front of the Town-hall God save the Queen was played as a finale, to give another flavour of loyalty to the wind up, the crowd dispersed, shutters were taken down, the town went out of mourning, and resumed its senses. Thus finished what some still look upon as an old custom, which, on account of its antiquity, should be allowed to wear itself out, and die a natural death.

We do not join in the belief that it will die out of itself. Although almost all the respectable inhabitants of the borough no longer, as in former less populous times, take part in the game, it seems clear to us that as long as it is known that football in the public streets of Kingston will be permitted on Shrove Tuesday, so long a sufficient number will congregate, especially now that the game is stopped in other places, to play at it, for it takes but very few in this as other things, "to set the ball a-going," and when once started many will join in who would readily vote for the abolition of a custom so incompatible with modern habits. If the custom be really looked upon by the respectable labouring men of Kingston as an annual pastime to which long usage had given its sanction, we should say take the game into the Fairfield, where it could be played without compelling the tradesmen of the town to close their shops for the best part of the day. But from what we saw and heard on Tuesday we believe that the chief players were not recognized as belonging to Kingston at all, while on all sides the remark was constantly being made that the time was come when the practice ought to be discontinued, and that the spectacle exhibited was not creditable to a growing and rapidly improving town. It may be asked: how is it then, if it is so disapproved of, that the practice is still tolerated? The reason is, that a fear prevails that if the attempt be made to stop it there will be resistance, and mischief will ensue. We should be sorry to council a course which we thought would produce such a result; but we are convinced that if the police authorities were desired to prohibit the football in the public streets for the future, in proper time to give ample public notice, that they would have present a sufficient force of constables to show that they were in earnest, and no attempt would be made to persist in a practice which the almost universal opinion of the town condemns, and the shops might be opened and business transacted on Shrove Tuesday as on any other day. If people choose to play football in the Fairfield on that day, we would not have interfered in it, beyond confining it to the enclosure, which there would be no great difficulty in doing.

See report in its original format.

Thanks to Peter Pepperrell for his work in converting the original report into text.