Christmas in the
time of the Tudors
By Judith Arnopp
If we were to travel back in time to any
Christmas during the Tudor period, we’d recognise a few of the traditions but there
were others that would certainly surprise us. Religion of course played a huge
part in all aspects of Tudor life and at Christmas time fasting and mass took
precedence over gift-giving and carousing.
Christmas was a time of prayer and
feast; the spinning wheel which occupied a corner of most homes, sat idle until
the first Monday after epiphany (Plough Monday) when work would be resumed. While
we adorn a tree, they decorated the spinning wheel with evergreen boughs, holly
and ivy, a remnant of a ritual from pagan times.
Another tradition that preceded
Christianity was the Wassail in which
a wooden bowl containing hot ale, spiced apple, sugar and other spices, was
carried from door-to-door. Neighbours were invited to drink in exchange for a coin.
For the more formal Wassail held at court, a bowl was passed around by royal
stewards, the king being served last.
So
now is come our joyful'st feast,
Let
every man be jolly.
Each
room with ivy leaves is drest,
And
every post with holly.
Though
some churls at our mirth repine,
Round
your foreheads garlands twine,
Drown
sorrow in a cup of wine,
And
let us all be merry.
George
Wither (1588-1667)
The yule log, a huge trunk or bundle of
faggots (depending on the size of one’s hearth) was brought in from the forest.
It was burned for the entire twelve days of the Christmas celebration, and it
was considered lucky to keep charred remnants to start off next year’s yule fire.
Aspects of this tradition are still in use today, although our log tends to
consist of cake and chocolate and icing sugar.
As part of the festivities in
royal houses, a boy or a fool would be ‘crowned’ the Lord of Misrule. Under his
command normal order was overturned and the fool became king, and vice versa.
For the entertainment of the
court, the Lord of Misrule could command anybody
to do anything. It was a time of
total chaos and one that escapes my usually fertile imagination, for I cannot
imagine Henry VIII allowing anyone to make a public mockery of him, let alone a
fool … but apparently, he did.
In Survey of London, published in
the first year of James I rule, John Stow says:
In
the feaste of Christmas, there was in the kinges house, wheresoeuer hee was
lodged, a Lord of Misrule, or Maister of merry disports, and the like had yee
in the house of euery noble man, of honor, or good worshippe, were he
spirituall or temporall. Amongst the which the Mayor of London, and eyther of
the shiriffes had their seuerall Lordes of Misrule, euer contending without
quarrell or offence, who should make the rarest pastimes to delight the
Beholders.
In 1525 Henry VIII appointed not only a
Lord of Misrule for his own household but also one for Princess Mary’s – the
ensuing chaos must have been considerable and we know from records that things
often got out of hand. There was even an ecclesiastic version of misrule when
boy bishops were elected, often known as ‘Fool Bishop’ or ‘Fool Abbot’. John
Southworth says in his book Fools and
Jesters at the English Court:
‘What
followed over the next few days is commonly described as burlesque, a turning
upside down of the normal liturgy; it is more accurately seen and understood as
the literal acting out of the Magnificat, in which the ‘nobodies’ among the
clergy, as represented by the fool and his assistants, were exulted as a
salutary foretaste and prophetic anticipation of the Last Judgement.’ (Southworth:
p.70)
By Elizabeth’s reign, presumably having
run out of ideas for inventive mischief, the practice had almost died out.
All this unbridled excitement clearly
gave the Tudors an appetite, for the Christmas menu seems more outrageous (to
us) than their behaviour.
Poorer folk feasted on umble pie – pastry filled with the
chopped and minced heart, liver, lungs and kidneys of a deer, but the affluent
gorged on richer fare. Along with the traditional Christmas dishes of swan,
peacock and dolphin (yes, I know) Henry VIII was the first monarch to introduce
turkey to the royal table, but there were other … stranger things.
Christmas
pie
– sounds yummy – was rather like a Russian doll but with poultry, and consisted
of a turkey stuffed with a goose, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a partridge,
stuffed with a pigeon. This pie was served in a pastry case, surrounded by
joints of hare, small game and wild fowl. May not be as yummy as it sounds then
– I think I will be sticking with my nut roast this year.
And if that sounds weird, Cockenthrice was weirder still. Most of
us have seen the grotesques in the margins of medieval manuscripts, strange
half-beasts comprised of different animals – a rabbit with a man’s head or a
lion with a dragon’s head, or a snail with the head of a cat. Well, it didn’t stop
at the drawing stage. The Tudor table benefitted from dishes that were constructed
in a similar inventive manner. Cockenthrice
was comprised of a sucking pig, sewn to the back end of a goose (or something
similar) – there are some gruesome pictures on-line - google it, I dare you!
Mince
(or minst) pies might sound familiar but these were not made by Mr
Kipling (other pies are available) and consisted largely of prunes, raisins,
dates, powdered beef, butter, egg yolk, flour, suet or marrow, and minced
mutton and seasoned with salt, pepper and saffron – these thirteen ingredients
represented Christ and the apostles, all baked in a pie crust shaped like a
manger to symbolise the holy birth.
Like the Christmases of today, everyone
celebrated differently. Our Christmas has merged with winter celebrations of other
religions, and new ideas and traditions have evolved but the Tudor Christmas is
still detectable. While the Tudors brought
in greenery to decorate their homes, modern homes are largely in tinsel and
plastic and lights that can be seen from space. Tudors fasted until Christmas
day, Christmas Eve being especially strict with no meat, cheese or eggs. This
meant that come Christmas Day everyone was ready to gorge themselves and
records show that royal households consumed as many as twenty four courses!
Although we don’t tend to go that far today, lots of us diet desperately to fit
into a little black dress and then blow it all by over eating on the big day!
Now, as it was
then, Christmas remains a time to be spent with family and friends, and however
you spend yours, traditional or otherwise, celebrating with loved ones or
working, make sure it is a good one, and after you’ve toasted the queen, don’t
forget to raise a glass to the Tudors.
Sisters of Arden
Arden
Priory has remained unchanged for almost four hundred years. When a nameless
child is abandoned at the gatehouse door, the nuns take her in and raise her as
one of their own.
As Henry VIII’s second queen dies on the scaffold, the embittered King strikes out, and unprecedented change sweeps across the country. The bells of the great abbeys fall silent, the church and the very foundation of the realm begins to crack.
Determined to preserve their way of life, novitiate nuns Margery and Grace join a pilgrimage thirty thousand strong to lead the king back to grace.
Sisters of Arden is a story of valour, virtue and veritas.
Pre-order your copy today!
Judith Arnopp
Judith lives on
the west coast of Wales and is the author of eleven historical novels, mostly
set in the Tudor period.
Sisters of Arden (coming soon)
Think I will be sticking to a mushroom wellington this year! Pig stitched to a goose? That apparently out of favour Lord of Misrule was clearly hiding in the kitchens!
ReplyDeleteFascinating, Judith!
ReplyDeleteThanks guys, as a vegetarian I am considering stitching a parsnip to an aubergine for Christmas this year ha ha!
ReplyDeleteSuch a wonderful post, Judith!
ReplyDeleteGreat post - all that meat!
ReplyDelete