<iframe src="//www.googletagmanager.com/ns.html?id=GTM-K3L4M3" height="0" width="0" style="display:none;visibility:hidden">

Notes on...

Why it’s time to bring back wassailing

6 January 2024

9:00 AM

6 January 2024

9:00 AM

Before the Industrial Revolution shrank Christmas celebrations to two days, many workers across rural England might have spared a minute or two over Christmastide to bring out the family wassail bowl. Wassailing – sometimes in houses, sometimes in apple orchards – was a ceremonial toast to the health of friends, family and neighbours, or a ritualised routing of the bad spirits that lurk among fruit trees. Orchard wassailing, intended to guarantee bumper crops in the year ahead, was a rambunctious affair of gunshots, the banging together of trays and buckets and the blowing of cow horns (to scare away evil spirits), singing, drinking and bonfires. Amid the bucket-banging, harvesters found time to bow deeply in front of their chosen trees, which they afterwards toasted in cider, taking care to pour a little on to the tree roots.

In other instances, wassailing seems to have formed an element of a festive house party. Family and guests toasted one another in rank order, beginning with the master of the house. At-home wassailing, which was widespread across England and Scotland, required only bonhomie and warm spicy booze in a bowl.


Earliest instances of wassailing probably passed unrecorded. The tradition may even predate Christianity in these islands. The name comes from the Anglo-Saxon ‘wes hal’ or ‘waes hael’, meaning ‘be whole’ and so ‘of good health’: from the outset the drinking of a toast probably played a central part. The tradition seems to have been chiefly associated with Twelfth Night. On 17 January (the old Twelfth Night, before the introduction of the Gregorian Calendar), medieval revellers, led by a nominated ‘King of the Wassailers’, toured manors, taking with them the steaming wassail bowl and a buoyant sense of seasonal expectation, much in the manner of modern carollers. There was a song, the Wassail Song, with many regional variants.

Like all the best English traditions, wassailing kept a sharp eye on social niceties. Villagers who drank to their local worthy or feudal master were rewarded with gifts of food and money. Roasted apples were proffered to be dipped into the wassail bowl.

What did wassailers drink? It was cider for the orchard workers, while door-to-door wassailers traditionally drank a heady concoction called lambswool, which was made from hot, sweet, spiced ale thickened with a mixture of beaten cream, eggs and fluffy roasted apples, the resulting white frothiness inspiring its name. This is the drink stipulated by the 17th-century poet Robert Herrick in ‘Twelfth Night: or, King and Queen’. Here he identifies sugar, nutmeg and ginger as key ingredients.

Has the time come for a wassailing revival? What jollier symbol could there be of post-pandemic festivities than a bowl of hot sweetened grog paraded from house to house, with any number of revellers drinking their fill from the single vessel? Perhaps Jesus College, Oxford, will lead the way. The college’s 18th-century silver-gilt wassail bowl, known as the Swig, can hold ten gallons of lambswool.

Got something to add? Join the discussion and comment below.

You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it. Try your first month for free, then just $2 a week for the remainder of your first year.


Comments

Don't miss out

Join the conversation with other Spectator Australia readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Close