A Wassailing We Shall Go

Wassail. Is it a song? Is it a drink? Is it a drinking vessel? The answer, originally, is, none of the above, but as we have seen, especially at Christmas, traditions evolve out of all recognition.

Take the day itself. There seems to be no objective evidence at all regarding the exact date of Jesus's birthday. The early Christians, however, were nothing if not pragmatists. It's lot easier to get people on your side if you offer them an excuse for a party. Now it just so happens that lots of cultures were in the habit of celebrating the winter solstice, observing that the nights were fair drawing out. At the end of the seventh century, St Augustine was making great inroads into converting the Saxons. In 601 Pope Gregory wrote to him, instructing him to absorb existing pre-Christian mid-winter customs into celebrating Christmas.

This predates wassail by a good few centuries, but it too is a Christmas tradition of sorts. The one thing we can be reasonably sure of is that wassail is in fact a toast. Meaning the equivalent of good health or cheers, it derives from Old Norse. There is a standard response, drinkhail. Now you're not bumping into your best pal in the street and having this merry exchange, are you? Drink is therefore inevitably involved.

Annie Gray

Warm drinks are a thing for winter. As Annie Gray writes in At Christmas We Feast, seizing the opportunity to get utterly plastered with the excuse that it is part of the festive season is a strong tradition... So wassail, the salutation, became synonymous with the drink itself. But what is it? I hear you ask. My reply is, do you have any easier questions? Let me try to answer that in outline. It is alcoholic; it is served hot; it contains quite a lot of spice and sugar. The mulled wine and cider you'll find at any Christmas Fair probably evolved from it.

Beyond those basics, you have to look at local variations. The alcohol involved would vary according to what was produced in the area. In the cider producing counties of south west and south east England, this any excuse for a drink was formalised/justified. A ceremony would be held on Twelfth Night in cider orchards. Amidst much pageantry, singing and many toasts, the company would drink to the health of the apple trees, to awaken them, and to frighten away evil spirits. Obviously enough, this is to ensure a good harvest in the autumn nine months on. In some areas, slices of toasted bread soaked in the wassail were hung from the trees. Toast - hold that thought. In addition to the spices, I suspect that things were added for an extra kick. Were the wassailers fortified with an extra slug of apple brandy in the mix? Probably.

In brewing areas, beer was the base. Here we know for certain that this was almost certainly enhanced with sherry. The recipe which Annie Gray gives is wine-based with a lot of roasted apples. Left for any time, this would start some fermentation. Grand houses would have giant wassail bowls used only at Christmas. Bands of revellers would carry smaller bowls on their wassailing travels.

Back to toast. Putting bread or spiced toast into wine was not uncommon in days of yore. When contemplating the topic for today I chanced upon an old Christmas edition of the BBC's Food & Drink programme. After Michel Roux explained why there is no meat in mince meat (he could have read Tom's Food! for that) the drinks expert made a bowl of wassail and served it with slices of toast in the glass. That, she said, is the origin of our phrase, to toast, ie, to wassail.

Wassail. Is it a song? Is it a drink? Is it a drinking vessel? The answer, now, is yes to all, as well as a toast.

This is the last On The Side column of the year. We'll be back in February. To all readers we say, Merry Christmas and Wassail!