Throughout the county the winter solstice, after its its feasting celebrations,  once signalled the time for collecting mistletoe, to distribute through the tribe for people to benefit from its medicinal properties; perhaps the earliest of what became 'Christmas' gifts as the mantle of the church covered over the past.

Christmas eve is an omen filled night, for any who care to look to the 'old' wisdom for advice.

If a lamp goes out on Christmas eve it is an omen of death, but bread baked that night is said never to go mouldy and the song of the robin increases ten-fold in volume and sweetness.

Horses, cows, and oxen were said to kneel in the fields and in stables at midnight to give thanks for the Christ-child being born among them. Indeed, in west Devon it is claimed that when the new style calendar was adopted, the young animals knelt to greet December 25th, but the older ones reserved their observancy for January 6th, the 'old' Christmas Day.

On the eve of Christmas, the pixies are said to hold services of gladness in sheltered places and those that have ears that can hear the magic of nature should visit an apiary at midnight on Christmas eve, to hear the bees singing in their hives.

Good folk who may be kept awake by the crowing cockerels can put their sleepless hours to good use, by guarding the Christmas Pie.

This pie represented the manger at Bethlehem, according to W. Crossing's writings of 1881 in "Western Antiquary", and its contents were the offerings made by the three wise men.

Herrick wrote of a lone watcher guarding the pie throughout the night before Christmas.

Watching The Pie

Come guard this night the Christmas-pie,

That the thief, though ne'er so sly,

With his flesh-hooks, don't come nigh

To catch it.

From him, who all alone sits there,

Having his eyes still in his ear,

And a deal of nightly fear,

To watch it.

The earliest of Christmas feasts was not the pie, or any of the meats that have weighed down tables since mediaeval days, it was an ancient dish of cree'd hulled wheat, stewed gently for twelve hours or more, then boiled until it jelled. Mixed with milk, sweetened with honey, spiced, and served to be eaten hot, like porridge, or served cold with cream, it was 'Furmety'; probably known and enjoyed before man made iron.

Times changed and new calendars caused confusions but there was more to festive Christmas season, than food.

Even in these days of central heating and smokeless fuels the traditions of Christmas still survive. The yule-log, or Christmas-log, is still burned traditionally on Christmas Eve in many parts of the county; in others, the custom of burning a faggot of green ash is retained. At Sticklepath, near Okehampton, the tradition of burning the ash faggot was smokily revived in 1992 by the landlord of the Devonshire Inn in a manner that might have made Herrick proud.

"The Ashen Faggot"

Come, bring with a noise,

My merry, merry boys,

The Christmas log to the firing;

While my good dame, she

Bids ye all be free,

And drink to your hearts' desiring.

With the last year's brand

Light the new block, and

For goodness in his spending

On your psalteries play,

That sweet luck may

Come while the log is a-teending.

Drink now the strong beer,

Cut the white loaf here;

The while the meat is a-shredding

For the rare mince-pie,

And the plums stand by

To fill the paste that's a-kneading.

Other lines, written by J. Thorn in 1795 illustrate some of the Christmas customs known to him in the eighteenth century;

"Christmas"

Thy welcome Eve, lov'd Christmas, now arrived,

The parish bells their tuneful peals resound,

And mirth and gladness every breast pervade.

The ponderous ashen faggot, from the yard,

The jolly farmer to his crowded hall

Conveys, with speed ; where, on the rising flames

(Already fed with store of massy brands)

It blazes soon ; nine bandages it bears,

And as they each disjoin (so custom wills),

A mighty jug of sparkling cyder's brought,

With brandy mixt, to elevate the guests.

At the ancient Harbour Inn at Axmouth, near Seaton, there was an addition to the traditional ash faggot burning that has all but died out and has been forgotten; the custom of serving a boar's head, a truly traditional Christmas delicacy. The custom of bringing in the boar's head is referred to in the an ancient carol;

The Boar's head in hand bear I,

Bedecked with bays and rosemary;

I pray you masters be merry,

Quod estis in convivio......

The origins of the appearance of the boar's head lie far back in pre-Christian times together with the origins of those customs related to the Christmas Bull.

Known throughout the west country until quite recently, the Christmas Bull held memories of times when going about in animal disguise was a pagan practice at the winter festival.

Summer or winter, people, dressing up as an animal, or seemingly being changed into one, occur often in stories where shape-shifting or transformation is taken quite naturally, without fear;

Snout: O Bottom thou art chang'd ! What do I see on thee ?

Quin: Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee ! Thou art translated.

Bottom: I see their knavery; this to make an ass of me; to fright me if they could.

But I will not stir from this place, do what they can; I will walk up

and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear that I am not afraid.

The Christian church had tried to suppress all the pagan rites, but over a thousand years before Shakespeare put quill to parchment, Caesarius of Arles, in the fifth century, wrote of men dressed in animal costume;

"some who have been baptised put on counterfeit forms and monstrous faces....... Some are clothed in hides of cattle; others put on the heads of beasts, rejoicing and exulting that they have so transformed themselves into the shapes of animals that they no longer appear to be men."

And what of such mimicry today. That most 'English' entertainment, pantomime, ensure the tradition thrives around the Christmas period. The panto horse, or a dame's cow being sold for a few beans by a worthless Jack, Dick Whittington's valued cat, or Red Riding Hood's fearful wolf, the cloak of animal anonymity continues to entertain and enthral to the present day.

In Tetbury, on the Cotswolds, a wooden, carved, bulls head with long horns, shiny eyes and a white face was 'possessed' by one family for generations. At Christmas time, family carol singers carried it round the town and nearby villages, hidden beneath sacking. When cottage doors were opened to them in response to their carols, the sacking was lifted; to reveal the Christmas bull

The Celtic fire festival connection can easily be discerned in the ornamental Christmas Candle. Of great size, the candle was an addition to light already provided by other flames and it was either lit on Christmas Eve, or early on Christmas morning and then allowed to burn until night-time when it was ceremoniously extinguished.

The Christmas flame which custom called for was then re-lit, during the evening, on each successive night until Twelfth Night, when it was put out for the last time. As long as the Yule candle burned steadily when it was lit, the home would receive blessings, but if it was blown out by accident during the festival, it was an omen of misfortune for the family.

The candle was never 'blown' out at any time, when it was to be extinguished, and generally only the eldest member of the family did this, the wick was pressed with a pair of tongs to stifle the flame. The immense, ornamental, yule candle may not be so readily seen nowadays, but the small candle-lights on Christmas trees are popular.

With the end of the year, the time for wassail draws close but the pagan cup can wait until January, as it always did.