A CORNISH CHRISTMAS

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20995, 23 December 1939, Page 14 (Supplement)

A CORNISH CHRISTMAS

Welcome Christmas, which brings us all good cheer, Pies and puddings, roast pork and strong beer. Chorus : Come let me taste your Christmas beer That is so very strong, And I do wish that Christmas time With all its mirth and song Was twenty times so long

!N the lines from an old secular carol, that appear above the writer has expressed the love of feasting with which Man from the beginning of time has tried to compensate for the cold and darkness of the dying year. Nowhere were such sentiments more freely echoed than in Cornwall, which, longer perhaps than anywhere else, retained the ancient observances of Christmas in their old-time jovial spirit. Dickens himself never contrived a more splendid picture of Christmas cheer than that given by a Cornish writer, William Bottrell, describing life in west Cornwall, a centuray or more ago. The scene depicted is Trove Manor House, some half-dozen miles west of Penzance, and the time Christmas Eve. Long before daylight the women of the household were up and busy with the preparation of the pies, meat, game and poultry, and all the roasting, boiling and baking which had to be done in readiness for the feast. Before the break > of dawn, too, the men had left the hall, and the valleys and hills resounded to the bugle-horn as it roused the neighbouring villages to join in the hunting and haretracing over the newly-fallen snow. As soon as the men had gone, the great open fireplace in the hall was filled from end to end with logs, and sweet-smelling bogturf laid between. Before this fire were placed the spits on which were roasted huge joints of meat, whilst woodcock, snipe, plover, teal and other game were cooked in the dripping-pans beneath. Meanwhile the kitchen chimney and oven were taken up with pies of every sort—pigeon, rabbit, hare, mullet, bass and veal, besides those of parsley and sweet herbs.

In addition to all these were puddings, pasties, cakes and other knick-knacks designed to tempt the more delicate appetites. By midday the long tables were laid, and from then on till dark company after company kept coming home, laden with game, and all of them “hungry as hounds." How splendid the old house must have

By A. K. Hamilton Jenkin

looked on those Christmas nights—the walls and windows garlanded with holly, box and bay, the tall candles throwing their light on steaming bowls and tankards, piles of fruit and all the rich profusion of food.

It was not every household, of course, which could afford such splendid feasting as old Trove, but even the poorest did their best. Among the latter a favourite Christmas dish was sweet giblet pie—a kind of mince pie into which the giblets of a goose, boiled and finely chopped, were introduced instead of beef. With this was drunk “eggy-hot,” a liquor composed of eggs, hot beer, sugar and rum, poured rapidly from one jug to another until it became white and covered with froth.

“Going a-gooding” on Christmas Day Another popular Christmas drink was “shenagrum,” which was made by boiling half a pint of home-brewed beer and adding to it half a noggin of Jamaica rum and a slice of lemon, together with soft brown sugar and grated nutmeg to taste. The drink was served hot, and in the “good old days” was sold in the publichouses at sixpence a glass. Until recently, the making of the “Christmas Cake” in Cornwall was almost as much part of the season as the preparation of plum puddings elsewhere. The type of cake varied in different households, from the sumptuous “black” cake, fortified with brandy, to the more ordinary saffron cake, enriched on this occasion with an extra amount of “goodness.” Every member of the household had his or her own special cake and each had to taste a portion of the other's—though not before Christmas Day, as it was considered unlucky to eat them sooner. In many places it was, and still is, the custom for old women, known as “Christmas widows,” to visit their well-to-do neighbours at this time of the year, gathering money or ingredients for their own “bit of Christmas cake.” This is generally referred to as “going a-gooding.” Formerly it was the practice of the more old-fashioned tradespeople to provide a slice of cake and a-small glass of gin for their customers on Christmas Eve. One old lady in my home town used regularly to go the round of all the shops where this was done, making minute purchases at each.

“Well, Mrs P ,** the shopkeeper would inquire, “will 'ee ’ave a drop of gin as it’s Christmas time?” “Don’t mind if I do,” she would reply with feigned indifference, meanwhile closely scrutinising the amount poured out. Then, tossing it off with evident relish, she would day down her glass upon the counter.