Today, myself, Mrs W and a friend from Surrey attended the Kilmersdon Wassail, held in the village that gave the world "Jack and Jill". This was my bright idea, as I've always had an interest in folk traditions - and the others humoured me. We travelled from Frome with some trepidation, as village events don't always welcome outsiders with open arms (visions of Royston Vasey and the Local Shop for Local People came to mind). However, we needn't have worried. While it would be inaccurate to say we were clutched to the bosom of Kilmersdon, the people were welcoming enough and certainly did not make visitors feel excluded. A ploughman's lunch (with cider - of course) in the Village Hall (with music from the Village Band) was followed by the crowning of the 2012 Wassail Queen. As MC Martin Horler (splendid in smock and bowler - and playing a mean pair of spoons) explained: they don't elect the Queen, it's more like the naming of a new Dalai Lama - they just know who it should be...
Cam Valley Morris danced in the car park and and then off we 'processed', past the church, up the hill to the Community Orchard (via a flood from the sewage works), led by the band. The Queen placed a slice of toast in one of the apple trees (to attract Robin Goodfellow) and poured cider around its roots (to remind it of its purpose in life), shotguns were fired (to scare away the evil spirits), the Kilmersdon Wassail Song was sung, spiced mulled cider was drunk by all from Wassail Cups (hygiene regs?), Cam Morris danced and off we went to repeat the process in the grounds of the Old School House. This was followed by tea (in proper cups), apple cake and more dancing.
The whole event was brilliantly managed - relaxed, yet well organised. No-one was rushed, but the timetable was (more or less) adhered to. There was great good humour, but the tradition was respected. Martin was a terrific host - not assuming everyone there knew exactly was going on and explaining the various elements with wit and warmth.
A vital midwinter ritual well worth preserving and sustaining - or a load of superstitious old nonsense reserved for sandal-wearing folkies? (though any sandal wearers would have got rather damp and cold today). On the evidence of this afternoon, the former wholeheartedly gets my vote. Oh, and the spiced cider was superb...
www.camvalleymorris.org.uk
http://homepages.tesco.net/~brennig.jones/kilmersdon.htm
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