It was also customary in some places for the poor of a village at Christmas time or on New Year’s Eve, to go round to the doors of their richer neighbours, bearing a wassail-bowl, decked with ribbons and a golden apple, and singing a carol appropriate to the occasion. This interesting custom is still carried out to the letter at Chippenham, in Wiltshire. On Christmas Eve five or six burly labourers, carrying a bowl gaily decorated with ribbons, go round from house to house and sing a peculiarly quaint rhyme, of much the same character as that given below, which was once common in Gloucestershire, particularly in the neighbourhood of “Stow on the Wold where the wind blows cold.”
Wassail! wassail! all over the town, Our toast it is white, and our ale it is brown; Our bowl is made of a maplin-tree; We be good fellows all;—I drink to thee.
Here’s to our horse, and to his right ear, God send our measter a happy new year; A happy new year as e’er he did see,— With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.
Here’s to our mare, and to her right eye, God send our mistress a good Christmas pie; A good Christmas pie as e’er I did see,— With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.
Here’s to our cow, and to her long tail, God send our measter us never may fail Of a cup of good beer: I pray you draw near, And our jolly wassail it’s then you shall hear.
Be here my maids? I suppose here be some; Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone! Sing hey O, maids! come trole back the pin, And the fairest maid in the house, let us all in.
Come, butler, come, bring us a bowl of the best, I hope your soul in heaven will rest; But if you do bring us a bowl of the small, Then down fall butler, and bowl, and all.
From this wassail-song it may be gathered that the persons visited were expected to contribute to the wassail-bowl. Another example of a wassailing song begins thus:—
Here we come a-wassailing Among the leaves so green; Here we come a wandering, So fair to be seen.
Chorus—Love and joy come to you, And to your wassail too, And God send you a happy new year—new year; And God send you a happy new year; Our wassail cup is made of the rosemary tree, So is your beer of the best barley.
A quaint custom, doubtless a survivor from pagan times, was wassailing the fruit trees with a view to a productive crop in the coming year. In some places the trees were wassailed on New Year’s Eve, in others on Christmas Eve. The pretty superstition has been commemorated by Herrick in the lines:—