Forget winter pruning, mulching and soil nutrient additions, every cider-maker worth his salt knows that the only sure-fire way to ensure a healthy apple crop is to perform a wassail upon one’s apple trees.
This peculiar pagan ritual is traditionally performed on old Twelfth Night (the 17th January), predominantly in the cider-making counties of South West England. Essentially it’s just an excuse for a big old cidery piss-up in a field, but the general thought behind it is that making a terrible, drunken din in your orchard will chase away any malevolent, crop-spoiling spirits that may be lurking amongst the branches of your apple trees.
It is standard practice to hand around mulled cider during the wassail… with most of it guzzled by the participating wassailers (wassailees?), but some is poured (or spilled) under the apple tree to feed the roots. Cider-doused pieces of toast are then hung in the branches of the trees as a gift to the nicer, fruit bringing orchard spirits. This year, we will be using Hovis medium sliced. If we get a bad crop this coming Autumn, we’ll try a granary loaf next time.
The culmination of all this madness is the drunken bellowing of the traditional wassail song. There are a dozen or so variations of this ditty – here’s one of our favourites, not least because it mentions the ‘Girt dog of Langport’.*
Unfortunately, we are not sure what tune it is you are supposed to sing along to, but for an exciting, modern twist, may we suggest this one, here.
Happy wassailing!
Wassail and wassail all over the town
The cup it is white and the ale it is brown
The cup it is made of the good ashen tree
And so is the malt of the best barley
Chorus
For its your wassail and its our wassail
And its joy be to you and a jolly wassail
Oh master and missus, are you all within?
Pray open the door and let us come in
O master and missus a-sitting by the fire
Pray think on us poor travelers, a traveling in the mire
Chorus
For its your wassail and its our wassail
And its joy be to you and a jolly wassail
Oh where is the maid with the silver-headed pin
To open the door and let us come in
Oh master and missus, it is our desire
A good loaf and cheese and a toast by the fire
Chorus
For its your wassail and its our wassail
And its joy be to you and a jolly wassail
There was an old man and he had an old cow
And how for to keep her he didn’t know how
He built up a barn for to keep his cow warm
And a drop or two of cider will do us no harm
Chorus
For its your wassail and its our wassail
And its joy be to you and a jolly wassail
The girt dog of Langport he burnt his long tail
And this is the night we go singing wassail
O master and missus now we must be gone
God bless all in this house until we do come again
Chorus
For its your wassail and its our wassail
And its joy be to you and a jolly wassail
*This actually refers to a part of the mysterious ‘Glastonbury zodiac’, not a maimed mutt. http://www.isleofavalon.co.uk/avalon-zodiac.html
