Banning the Wakes in Exeter and Somersetshire

Exeter Morris Men dancing!

"When an order was made in 1627 and in 1631, at Exeter, and in Somersetshire, for the suppression of the Wakes [I think these where Wakes on the night before the parish church's saint day, associated with dancing, music and drink, and the feasting on the day itself], both the Ministers and the People desired their continuance, not only for preserving the memorial of the dedication of their several Churches, but for civilizing the parishioners, composing differences by the mediation and meeting of friends, increasing of love, and unity, by these feasts of charity, and for the relief and comfort of the poor."

Brand 1813

 






  

 

Map - Exeter

The Merry Maidens, or Dawns Myin, and the pipers of Burian

The Merry Maidens, or Dance-Maine, 1804 - By W & G Cooke [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

"In the parish of Burian are the "Dawns Myin" or Mên--the dancing stones--commonly called "The Merry Maidens;" and near them are two granite pillars, named the "Pipers." One Sabbath evening some of the thought. less maidens of the neighbouring village, instead of attending vespers, strayed into the fields, and two evil spirits, assuming the guise of pipers, began to play some dance tunes. The young people yielded to the temptation; and, forgetting the holy day, commenced dancing. The excitement increased with the exercise, and soon the music and the dance became extremely wild; when, lo a flash of lightning from the clear sky transfixed them all, the tempters and the tempted, and there in stone they stand."

Hunt 1903

Map - The Merry Maidens

Some more on the Dartmoor Folk Festival

[As I mentioned before I really love this small and eccentric festival.  It is held in South Zeal,on the edge of Dartmoor

The field before the crowds gathered at Dartmoor Folk Festival 2001.  Some of these photos are by me, some by my wife Lunar Hine - Please accredit one or other of our blogs if you wish to use them.

They help keep alive a number of local traditions. One is the local Step Dancing.  I have come across mentions of this happening in the farmhouses around Dartmoor back into victorian times, and I haeve no dobt there would have been local dance tradition before this.

The winner of the youth section of the step dancing competition 2011

I missed the main competition (I have witnessed it before - preformed on a cart top, with the musician playing a small concertina facing away from the competitor so that he does not favour one person over another. Men and women compete. In the crowd old ladies sit and mutter to each other about how well - or not - a competitor is doing.  It seems they are permitted to bring a bit of their own style in, but if they are seen as going too far into some more mainstream form of tap dancing they frowned on).

 

This video is on its side - sorry!

All I saw this year was the two winners, the adult and the child's category, preforming their dances. Unfortunately it was at very short notice, so soft shoes where used instead of hard.

And this one...  Oh well - the adult winner

The Step Dancing Memorial Cup

The Bob Cann Shield for step dancing.  I am not sure whether this or the cup is for adults...

Talking of shoes - one year I saw a dance off in the Kings Arms for a pair of shoes at this festival - in the corner rumored to be the domain of a Devon gypsy family - it is always full of musicians and dancers anyway!

The winner of the broom dancing took center stage, surrounded by her fellow competitors. This year the fashion for stripy socks added to the display!

Another competition is the children's broom dancing - another local tradition. This year it was almost all girls, and the brooms where decorated. This is a good dance, though it seems to have only one form that is repeated. Personally I would like to see a few adult broom dancers, and maybe an evolving tradition to run alongside the fixed dance - there is a lot you could do with a broom.

The broom dancing shield, 1991-2011 so far, first presented by the Exeter Morris men and Bob Cann - the founder of the festival.

The winner of the Broom dancing championship also wins the years broom - later the girl who won was seen proudly carrying it around the village.  The mini broom has the newish colours of Devon on it (they actually relate to the county sports teams, lord Exmouth and the lush hills and granite of the area, as well as Westcountry saint Petroc.

Morris dancers also abounded, much to the pleasure (and occasional fear) of my litle daughter. She was fine when they danced, even growling and laughing at them when they rushed at us with sticks, but when they milled around unchaperoned by the music she got a little anxious, espesially at the ragged, flower headed, blacked out faced Exmoor Morris Dancers.

Dartmouth?? Morris

Also present where Dartmouth? Morris and Lodestone Morris.  I think there was also one of the genuinely old sides from Oxfordshire that never died out.

Lots of beer was drunk and music played.  Only later was I aware of the irony that while around England young people where drinking heavily and wielding big sticks (baseball bats and truncheons) in the rioting and looting that was happening in the poor areas of our cities here on Dartmoor everyone was actively turning up to watch people hit each other with sticks and drink far, far, far to much...

Sticks and drink - a tamer sort of riot...

Music was everywhere.  This man was from Lodestone morris, and showed me a penny whistle that could be played in only one hand...

Most of the Morris dancing was in the streets and by the pub, but at the end of the day they came on to the main arena. Ths is Lodestone Morris again.

Exmoor Morris dancing again. This group made a big thing about having come sooo very far, from foreign lands... Exmoor...

My daughter learning to walk and dance to the music. She and the other small children saw the dance floor as the place to be, and between dance acts nobody stopped them charging around to the sound of the accordion.

Finally the intimidating Minehead Sailors Horse (a hobby horse) did its wild dance and 'bumbped' its unsuspecting victim...

 The only things I have to add that I can remember was about the stalls - many where stuffed with local crafts - jewelry, prints, bee products...  The one that stuck most in my mind was sett up for one day only. in the street outside the festival, under the bunting, a small boy stood at a workmate with a hammer, chisel and some pots of paint. He has been there a few years that I have been. He had mined some rusty used horseshoes out from behind a barn on his parents farm and did them all up smart. A sign proclaimed "Lucky Devon Horseshoes". Next year I will photograph his wheres.

That reminds me - on the bus through Drewsteinton I noticed three old horseshoes, all toe down, on the same barn door. They had been painted over many times. A very lucky barn I think, considering the folkloric power of three.]

Sailors Horse from Minehead appears in South Zeal at the Dartmoor Folk Festival

The Sailors Horse

[I went to the Dartmoor Folk Festival this year (August 2011).  A full account (with lush pictures!) will come later when I have more time. But suffice to say for now that I saw plenty of Morris dancing (border and the Oxford sort), clog dancing and appellation flat footing, plus the local Dartmoor step dancing and Broom dancing. 

Flowery Morris hat my daughter liked smelling on a Lodestone Morris Man

The pub was stuffed with musicians playing what seemed like 24 hrs a day, in at least five different sessions, with such incredible skill I was too overawed to get out my own humble fiddle. One man in particular caught my eye, Nick Scott, the bagpipe player from Last Nights Fun, who day and night seemed to be flowing out the music, eyes closed, or opened into a deep trance, sweat pouring form his brow and music like the ocean flooding from his pipes. Always he was surrounded with 10 to 40 other musicians emptying their souls into the raging air.

Exmoor Border Morris in a South Zeal road

In the corridors I was shouldering through men booming out sea shanties with skillful harmonies...

But best of all for me, and the reason for this short preliminary post was the unexpected appearance of the Sailors Horse, from Minehead. Sitting and watching it shake and dance and bow was a truely awe inspiring sight, and the adrenalin of watching it select its sacrificial (and unwilling?) victim had the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Was the young woman really panicking and in pain?  Should I stand up and intervene? here is the small video I managed to eke out of my dieing batteries -

Here is a more competent video someone else shot...

As a footnote I should say I saw the young woman half an hour later being talked to by the Minehead Sailors Horse lot, and surrounded by her friends. Although she still seemed a little on edge there appeared to be no hard feelings. As a truly visceral spectacle it completely worked. Dartmoor folk festival is amazing for raising the 'wild' and the 'civilized' in me whenever I go. I sit in rows of old grey haired people listning to musical eloquence one moment, the next I am protecting my eyes from the splinters of massive wooden cudgels being hurled at each other by the ragged burly men of Grimspound Morris the next (as happened a few years ago).  

I love it.]

Barnstaple Fair - a song (part 1)

Fairground ride - By Iantresman (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

[Barnstaple fair is still in existence.  This is what Wikipeedia has to say about current proceedings -

The ceremonial opening of the fair survives from ancient times. The town council meets in the Guildhall, where various toasts are honoured with a spiced ale which, according to tradition, is made from a jealously guarded recipe handed on from generation to generation. Whilst the toasts are being honoured, "fairings", (a form of sweetmeat) are handed around.

On the reading of the Proclamation a large stuffed gloved hand garlanded with flowers is hung from a window of the Guildhall. The gloved hand represents the hand of friendship and the hand of welcome to the thousands that come to the fair. At 12 o'clock, a civic procession forms at the entrance to the Guildhall and the proclamation is read.

The fair begins on the Wednesday before 20 September each year.

Today the fair consists of rides and amusements located in the car park of the leisure centre.

from - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barnstaple under this license - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Text_of_Creative_Commons_Attribution-ShareAlike_3.0_Unported_License

Barum is and alternative name for Barnstaple.]

"There are several versions of this song extant. A very charming one was a favourite with the late Dr. Stoneman, of Ilfracombe. Many persons remember how he would "bring the house down" with applause when he sang it in the Concert Room, but although I have advertised and tried to obtain a copy from private sources, I have unfortunately failed to get one. I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. Lawrence, editor of the North Devon Herald, Barnstaple, for the following very amusing example :..."  [cont...]

Hewett 1900

Some Old Songs of Devonshire

Me playing fiddle - if you wish to use my photos please attribute this blog, thanks!

[I am a little uncertian what to do here - Please say if you think I have got it wrong.

Sarah Hewett includes a few Devonian folksongs in the end of her book.  I am uncertian whether to include them here. As this blog is mostly about the folklore of places, and most of the songs do not mention the place they are about I feel I should leave them out. Also including folk-songs takes us into huge territory, as a glance around the collections of EFDSS website will show. Most are not that unique to the place they where connected.

However, just because folklore appears in song form dosent meen it is not folklore!

It is a hard call to make for someone who has spent his life enraptured in the musical arms of folkmusic.

I think on this occasion, unless the song contains a reffrence to a specific West Country place I will simply list the song titles, and leave it at that. 

I am so slow at creating these posts I feel it would take to much time to include folksongs. Perhaps when I am in my 90's, and most of the folklore that is not in copyright is up here I will start on songs as well.

So here are the songs I am not detailing from Hewett 1900 - 

A SONG WRITEN ON THE OCCASION OF THE OPENING OF THE GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY 1844

YOUNG ROGER OF THE VALLEY.

THE OLD MAN'S SONG.

DADDY FOX.

WHERE ARE YOU GOING, FAIR MAID ?

THE OLD MAN WHO LIVED IN A WOOD.

RAISING THE ANCHOR.

THE DEAR LITTLE LETTER.

CHILDREN'S SONG FOR ALL SOULS' DAY.

THE KNIGHT KILLED THE SQUIRE.

THE DEVIL AND THE TAILOR.

THE STAR IN THE CANDLE.

A ROBIN TAPPING AT THE WINDOW PANE.

The following songs do reference a place, so I will include them -

PURTY JANE.

THE TRUE LOVERS.

JAN POOK.

BARBARA ALLEN.

THE WEST COUNTRY MAN.

BARNSTAPLE FAIR.]

Maypoles Galore! [work in progress]

[Note:  Many of these sources are still in copyright - however if my understanding of UK copyright law is correct the facts contained in them cannot be copyrighted, only the exact words, structure, images or layout (in these respects this page is unique and original, or using public domain images). As a mark of thanks and to add interest I have included a link to my sources.  If you own one of the sites or books I have used and do not want me to link to you please say, and I shall remove it.  If anyone wants to link to me I would be delighted!

I have also been very strict with dates - most of these places have had Maypoles erected for many many other years as well.

Where Maypoles have been used -

Cornwall

Brown Willy (Bron Wenelly, or Swallow Hill), 2010 (Here)

Bude, 2011 (Here)

Crealy, 2008 (Here)

Grade-Ruen, 2009 (Here)

Helston, ? (Here)

Mawnan Smith, ? (Here)

Millpool, 2008 (Here)

Padstow, 1923 (Here)

Padstow, 1935 (Here)

Padstow, 1980 (Here)

Padstow, 2004 (Here)

Padstow 2005 (Here)

Padstow, 2006 (Here)

Padstow, 2007 (Here)

Paul, ? (Here)

Penryn, ? (Here)

Saltash, 2011 (Here)

Troon, 1981 (Here)

West Loe, 2010 (Here)

Devon

Awliscombe, 2009, (Here)

Belstone, 2010 (Here)

Chagford, 1977 (The Book of Chagford: A Town Apart (Community History Series))

Denbury, 2011 (Here)

High Willheys, 2009 (Here, and Here)

Honicknowle, Plymouth, 1934 (Here)

Ilfracombe, 1999-2011 (Here)

Kingsteignton, ? (from a friend)

Lustleigh, -2010 (from a friend)

Malborough, 1994 (Here)

Meavy, 2004 (Here)

Meavy, 2011 (Here)

Moretonhampstead, 1981 (Here)

North Bovey, 2011 (Here)

Parracombe, 2008 (Here)

Shaldon, 2011 (Here)

Sticklepath, 2009 (Here)

Sticklepath, 2010 (Here)

Stoke Gabriel, 2010 (Here)

Tavistock, ? (Here)

Tiverton, 2009 (Here)

Tiverton, 2010 (Here)

Torrington, 2010 (Here)

Widecombe-in-the-Moor, 2008 (Here)

Woodbury, 2011 (from a friend)

Dorset

Abbotsbury, 2006 (Here)

Bridport, 2005 (Here)

Bridport, 2008 (Here)

Bridport, 2011 (Here)

Bridport, 2012 (Here)

Buckhorn Weston, ? (Here)

Cern Abbas, ? (Here)

Colehill, 2000 (Here)

Colehill, 2001 (Here)

Durweston, 1920's (Here)

Durweston, 1958 (Here)

Durweston, 1961 (Here)

Durweston, 1971 (Here)

Durweston, 2008 (Here)

Durweston, 2009 (Here)

Durweston, 2010 (Here)

Durweston, 2011 (Here)

Fontmell Magna, 1904 (Here)

Fontmell Magna, 1960 (Here)

Glanvilles Wootton, 1909 (Here)

Gussage All Saints, 2009 (Here)

Litton Cheney, 2005 (Here)

Loders, 2007 (Here)

Loders, 2008 (Here)

Milton Abbas, 2009 (Here)

Monkton Wylde, 2003 (from Lunar Hine)

Puddletown, 2006 (Here)

Shaftsbury, 2010, (Here)

Shillingstone, 1929 (The Folklore Calendar by George Long)

Stalbridge, 2010 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 1669 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 1867 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 1897 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 1986 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2003 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2004 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2007 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2008 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2009 (Here)

Sturminster Marshal, 2011 (Here)

Weymouth, 1977 (Here)

Weymouth, 2004 (Here)

Weymouth, 2005 (Here)

Winterbourne Houghton, 2006 (Here)

Winterbourne Houghton, 2007 (Here)

Winterbourne Strickland, 2006 (Here)

Somerset (incl. Bath and Bristol)

Allerford, ? (Here)

Buckland St Mary, ? (Here)

Butleigh, 1906 (Here)

Dunster, ? (Here)

Earth Spirit, Dundon, 2011 (from a friend)

Iron Acton, ? (Here)

Selworthy, ? (Here)

Shepton Beauchampe, 2011 (Here)

South Horrington, 1960-1980 (Here)

Wells, 1970-1990, 2009 (Here)

Weston, 2011 (Here)

Windmill Hill City Farm, Bristol, early 1980's (from my memory)

Yeovil, ? (from The Faery Folklorist)

Almost all of these are not of the type one might have found in medieval times, but they come from the same root, merely taking on addornments and styles of the late 19th / early 20th century. I would argue that this is an extencion of the long shaddow of the maypole, cast through pagan and christian and athiest eras. Comunity, dance, music and weird wyrd still, as always, weave a compelling and entrancinfg dance. The deaper and wider the roots, the stronger the tree. I hope the Mayday bankholiday is retained - even if it is not Mayday will continue, but perhaps not in the vibrant comunity binding way it does to this day, and has done for millenia.

Of course Maypoles in this form are not the only markers of mayday - plenty of other places and people mark this turning of the year. I am merely reflecting in this post one angle of this verdant moment in our collective calendar. 

I have done a separate map for maypole sitings - accessed here.

If you know of other maypoles please comment bellow... ]

Harry Trewin and his leather trowsers - Chagford

Sheep Skin - this one is cured! - By Dina Wakulchik from Indianapolis, Indiana, USA (Sheep skin for sale too :)) [CC-BY-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"At the beginning of the present century the small boys of Chagford made the streets resound with shouts of this quaint old rhyme :

Old Harry Trewin
Had no burtches to wear,
So he stawl a ram's skin
Vur to make en a pair :
Wi' the woolly zide out,
And the fleshy zide in,
They sticked purty tight
To old Harry Trewin."

Hewett 1900

Map - Chagford
Map - Moretonhampstead

[I have studied this fragment a little, and found it is part of a much larger family of folk tunes (Roud Folksong index no. 294).  I found local variations, including one from Chagfords 'rival'  Moretonhampstead.  I would publish the long peice I wrote on it, but I am saving it up for a book I am going to publish on the Folklore of Chagford...]

A May Day celebration in Devon

[I had great plans for this May Day (or Beltaine, to use the Irish/Scotish/Manx term), but found that having a baby around does not make for complicated festivities...

I did manage to get some May blossom (hawthorn flowers) to decorate my daughters pram as we walked around town, in remembrance of my Granny (from Northamptonshire, not the Westcountry) who used as a girl to carry hawthorn blossoms from house to house on May Day, singing a rhyme my dad can never quite remember... It was a begging rhyme.

The Fire is lit...

Later in the day we went to a basket making friends May Day fire - a huge great conflagration of a years supply of pruning and a barn roof.

It felt like a fitting way to welcome in the flowers and grouth of May.

Old May day songs where sung, drums sounded out and a sunwise circling of the flames was walked with excitement and loud exclamations at the huge serpentine flames.

The flames of May

A little later some knife and axe throwing (at tree section targets) was practiced.

Later, as the flames dropped down to the embers first the bravest of the men, then the bravest of the women and finally the bravest of the children tried to jump the glowing fire, sometimes kicking up sparks in their wake as they landed a little short of the far side.

Hedgerow berry fueled home brew and commercial wines and beers where cracked open and crisps born by insistent children where eaten. I brought out my fiddle and played the Baring-Gould Chagford tune for perhaps its first public Chagford performance in over 100 years...  Soon artist Rima Staines joined in  on the Accordion (or rather carried on - I stopped - too much alcohol on not enough sleep) and then her partner, the story teller Tom Hiron accompanied her on clarinet.

Beautiful patterns my camera was not fast enough to capture

We had to leave then, the little one needing her bed, but the festivities carried on into the night, I imagine in a riot of multi-generational humans and a few teenage dogs. 

Next year, maybe then I can have puppets, masks and a May-pole....]

Chagford tune - All The Trees They Are So High

Me learning the fiddle...  If you want to use my photos please attribute this blog.

[This tune (a version of a well known folk tune) I encountered in a brilliant database of manuscripts held by the English Folk Dance and Song Society website , digitized by the Devon Traditions Project. Put Chagford in the EFDSS search bar to get the original of this tune.  I was researching for a forthcoming book on Chagford Folklore (more on that later in the year!).

It was collected in 1890 by Sabine Baring-Gould from William Aggett in Chagford. William was described thus by Sabine - 

“…William Aggett, aged 70, crippled and infirm, Chagford.  Certainly illiterate, an old broken down laborer…”   

The words of this song (just one of around 30 he collected from Chagford) are as follows - 

As I looked over my father’s castle wall

I saw four and twenty boys playing at the ball

But my pretty lad he did exceed them all

And my pretty lad is young and he is growing

O father, father dear, if that you think it fit

We’ll send him to the collage for a year yet

And spinning I at home will sit-sit-sit.

Whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing

I’ll buy my love five shirts of the Holland so fine

And all the time I’m sowing, the tears run down the twine

And I will sit and sing of that sweet love of mine,

Whilest my pretty lad is young and is growing

I’ll cast my yellow train away by the root

And I will clothe myself all in a boys suit

And to the collage ?wish?, I will go a foot

When my pretty lad so young still is growing

At the age of fourteen he was a married man

At the age of fifteen he had a little son

At the age of sixteen his thread of life was done

So my pretty lad so young had ceased growing

This actually did make me shed a tear when I read it to my wife. It was the amazing line "And all the time I'm sowing, the tears run down the twine" that did it! Folk music is amazing for getting to the core in just a few simple strides. The last verse didn't help...

And for those with a musical ear who might want to sing it, here is my faltering attempt at one of two complimentary tunes given by William Aggett. This is the tune noted as being sung to the words above. I have done a slight alteration to it by repeating the third bit to make it fit the 4 part structure of the song -

 

 Map - Chagford

p.s. Thanks to my neighbor Terri Windling for an excellent mini review on her blog. Cheers!]

Devon / Westcountry weather lore #16 June

Quercus cerris (Turkey Oak) at Hillersdon House, Devon, in June - under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license. by http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=User:Flynnbar&action=edit

"A dry May and a rainy June,
Puts the farmer's pipe in tune.
 

A misty May and a hot June,
Makes the harvest come right soon.

A dripping June brings all things in tune.

A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon.

Before St. John's day we pray for rain, after that we get it anyhow.
 

The change which takes place in the voice of the cuckoo is thus quaintly described by a sixteenth century poet

In April the coo-coo can sing her song by rote,
In June oft time she cannot sing a note ;
At first koo-koo ! koo-koo ! sings till she can do,
At last kooke-kooke-kooke ; six kookes to one koo."

Hewett 1900

 

 

Introduction to Saint Columb silver ball hurling article, mentioning Flora Day at Helston

Flora-day at Helston - by Rod Allday [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"Of all the counties of England which possess certain definite and peculiar characteristics which distinguish them from the rest, there is none, perhaps, so strikingly marked in this way as the far-away county of Cornwall. So remote is it from the great centres of civilisation and commerce, stretching itself away from the rest of England, and reaching out into the vast Atlantic, as though it would shake hands with the land of the “Stars and Stripes”—living upon its own resources, self-satisfied and self-contained—it goes on in its quiet, sober, sleepy way, disturbed only by a general election or some great religious awakening.

Is it any wonder that superstitions linger long and find it hard to die in this land of pixies, pasties, and pilchards? And is it surprising that strange customs which have come down through the ages, clinging from generation to generation with strong tenacity, should still obtain among the people in spite of the advent of the railway and the board- school? Every parish holds on to its “feast,” and every town boasts of its “fair,” while each village and hamlet has a special feature or function of its very own.

Helstone—dreamy, picturesque Helstone — has its “Flora-day,” when its inhabitants turn out en masse, and to the lively stains of a brass band dance through the streets from one end of the town to the other..." [cont.]

Burrow 1899

Map - Helston 

 The Boy's Own Annual. Volume 21. 1898 - 1899

Introduction to Mayday by Hewett

Lustliegh May Queen Rock -  By Owain.davies (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"From the time of the Roman evacuation of Britain, A.D. 410, May Day festivals have been observed throughout the country. The Saxons retained the worship of Maia, the mother of Jupiter, on the first of the month, and from this custom the month derived its name.

This popular festival was observed with the joyful ringing of bells, music, dancing, and mummings. Every building was covered with a profusion of floral decorations. Kings and queens did not object to join the members of their Court, civic dignitaries, and the populace, in the enjoyment of May Day gaieties. The makers of the fun adorned themselves with wreaths and festoons of flowers. Girls, wearing a profusion of flowers, danced around the Maypole to the wild strains of fifes and drums. Men visited the beer shops, where they imbibed more than was good for them.

As the custom grew old, abuses crept in, and what was once a picturesque and innocent recreation degenerated into frantic drunken revels, which were a scandal and a nuisance."

Hewett 1900

[At a time when the government are threatening to remove our mayday bank-holiday it is worth remembering that this is among  the oldest holidays in Britain. As the festival was celebrated in Pagan Ireland it is very likely that it pre-dates the Romans and is thus our oldest that is true to its roots as a celebration of the changing year.]

Wassailing this year!

[Old twelfth night, the 16th of January, is when my wife, writer and artist Lunar Hine, and I decided to Wassail our apple trees, as goes the tradition.

After gathering in the house and playing music and drinking mulled cider (and eating yummy Dorset Apple cake made by artist Rima, and my own dried apples) we  headed off into the garden to Wassail the apple trees.

The first - the oldest in my garden, though I only planted it last year, was my daughters discovery apple. We drank mulled cider from a wooden bowl and splashed some on the roots. 

The youngest child to hand, the son of jeweler Jason of England, hung bread in the branches soaked in cider.  We all cheered and tried to make lots of noise. Unfortunately none of us had brought anything really noisy like a pan, so we had to make do with maracas and bells!

Someone gently gave the tree a sake to wake it for the next year.

I said

"Wassail the tree, soes it may bear,

many an apple and many a pair,

soes it may grow, and it may bow,

and it may bring us apples eno'

Huzzar!"

This I had learned off the local Somerset Radio about 10 years ago from an old cider maker.

We then went on to another three orchards, though these where more developed.

One our friends planned to wassail again as they normally did, at the end of the month - so we chose a stunted tree that had produced a good crop for the first time in its life. After all "Wassail" (Saxon for "good health") is really a thank you to the trees (some would have it as the gods of the orchard - or in one case with us "the Pipins" - faeries from Rupert the Bear who lived in apple trees!).

With the other two orchards however it was the oldest and best trees that we chose.]