Wassail!
I GREW up in the heart of Somerset – cider country.
Gnarly old apples grew in orchards whose harvest turned into the many variates of potent farmhouse ‘scrumpy’, sold to whoever would pay for a flagon of this dangerously powerful brew.
It was made from local apple varieties such as Nelds dropper, Backwell red, Ashton bitter, Crimson King and Maggie Greive.
One of my early jobs was at Long Ashton Research Station, created in 1903 as an agricultural research centre. One of its key departments was pomology (fruit growing) and, with it, cider research!
It was there that I took part in my first wassailing, quaffing the research station’s own powerful mulled cider, made from their own orchard’s now rare apples (some trees moved to the Bristol University Botanic Garden after the centre shut in 2003). We sang folk songs, a shotgun was fired over the trees and a ‘Wassail Queen’ hoisted into the branches.
For the last 20 years I have conducted the ancient revelries of the wassail with the Fishponds Community Orchard, at Thingwall Park allotments, where each year, around Twelfth Night, I turn into the ‘Fishponds Fox’.
The word ‘wassail’ comes from Middle English as a toast, “waes hael”, meaning “be thou hale”. This, in turn, means “be in good health” (or the modern phrase “alright?”).
If someone says “waes hael” to you, the answer may well tell you a great deal about our culture, and our ancestors, as the loud repost is “drink hael”.
The traditional wassail bowl is filled with hot spicy cider, a libation is poured upon a root of a selected apple tree by a young child, slices of cider-soaked toast are tied to branches, along with images of a robin, symbols of hope and the spring to come through the dark days of winter.
We sing together the Somerset Wassail:
For it’s your wassail and it’s our wassail
And it’s joy be to you and a jolly wassail
We make lots of noise, singing, banging drums or pots and pans together, to scare away any ‘malignant spirits’ in the orchard (also a chance to have a good shout and clear away the winter blues). The ceremony finishes off with a ‘blessing’ to the trees to produce a good crop in the forthcoming season.
To me, wassailing is about community, sharing, solidarity, having a good laugh and upholding traditions that link us through time to our ancestors, not ‘pomp and circumstance’ but the folk traditions of working people like you and me.
So raise your tankard high, and shout with your loudest voice: “Wassail!”
For more information about Downend Community History and Art Project (CHAP) visit www.downendchap.org
Nick Smith