On Twelfth Night

I am proud to publish this entry from THE SILVER LOCKET by a graduate of my writing course. The author sets out to share stories of literary life: books old and new which inspire and comfort, and the people met along the way.

Follow THE SILVER LOCKET

I am taking bookings for the next writing course, HOW TO WRITE A BLOG THAT PEOPLE WILL WANT TO READ on February 1st & 2nd.

Come to Spitalfields and spend a winter weekend with me in an eighteenth century weaver’s house in Fournier St, enjoy delicious lunches and eat cakes baked to historic recipes, and learn how to write your own blog.

Click here for details

Galette des Rois baked by George Fuest of Populations Bakery, Spitalfields

My sister introduced me to the Galette des Rois. I love frangipane, so the notion of a pastry tart with almond paste immediately appealed, but what really captured my imagination was the notion of figurines baked into the pie. Whoever gets the ‘feve’ or charm in their slice is named king or queen for the day. Many countries have their own version of the Galette, which marks the feast of Epiphany, when the three wise men visited the stable in Bethlehem. I asked a friend of mine who has lived in France for many years about the Galette and she told me:

‘One of the children goes under the table when the galette is being cut and calls out each person’s name randomly – you are served your portion when your name is called and the one with the feve gets to wear the crown.’

Twelfth Night marks the end of Christmas on 6th January, when we take down our decorations. This has been a tradition since at least the Middle Ages. In ‘Christmas Past Christmas Present’ Simon Carter explains ‘It combined elements of the Christian Feast of Epiphany and the end of the twelve days of the pagan feast, loosely based on the Roman Saturnalia and centred around the Winter Solstice. In medieval tradition, Twelfth Night revels always incorporated disguises, elaborate display and role-reversal, and were often led by an elected master of ceremonies who had the power to impose ‘punishments’ on those who refused to obey his will. This character could either be the Lord of Misrule but more often it was the ‘bean king’.

During the Commonwealth from 1644 to 1660, Christmas was banned by Act of Parliament. In 1660, with the restoration of the monarchy Christmas celebrations returned and it was marked with parties and family gatherings in which the Twelfth Night cake featured. In ‘The English Year’ Chris Roud explains that the roles of King and Queen ‘were chosen at random by items placed in the cake, in earlier times a bean and a pea were used: whoever found the bean became the King and whoever found the pea, the Queen… a clove was also used and whoever found it in their slice was designated them Knave’. Other items that were sometimes used were coins, thimbles and rings, and those present could be given other characters to play’.

On 6th January 1669, Samuel Pepys mentioned his Twelfth cake in his diary:

‘I did bring out my cake, and a noble cake, and there cut into pieces with wine and good drink, and, after a new fashion, to prevent spoiling the cake, did put so many titles into a hat and so draw cuts, and I was the Queen and The Turner, King, Creed was Sir Martin Marrall, and Betty was Mrs Millicent. And so we were merry till it was night’.

Marrall and Millicent were characters in John Dryden’s ‘Sir Martin Marrall’, a popular comedy of the period.

The tradition of baking cakes was so strong that people would gather round shop windows to admire the confectioners’ art. Picture if you will a scene in which boys in the crowd nail bystanders’ clothes to the shop window frames. Francis Place, in his autobiography written in the 1820s, describes this practice:

‘One great fete day with boys was Twelfthday. On this day they used to divert themselves and others with a most mischievous practice, now discontinued, of nailing people’s cloaths to Pastry Cooks Shops … Scarcely any one could stop to see what was in the shop without being nailed, the tails of men’s coats and the gowns and petticoats of women were generally so firmly nailed that to get loose without tearing their clothes was impossible … Sometimes a womans gown and the tail of a mans coat were nailed with the same nail. It frequently happened when a person was nailed that he or she turned round either to extricate himself or herself or to attack the boys and were instantly nailed on the other side also.’

Fanny Austen Knight, niece to Jane Austen, described their Twelfth Night ceremonies in 1809 at Godmersham Park, the country seat of Jane’s brother, Edward:

‘after Dessert Aunt Louisa, who was the only person to know the characters… took one by one out of the room, and having equipped them, put them into separate rooms, and lastly dressed herself. We were all conducted into the library and performed our different parts … Aunt Louisa and LDeedes were dominos (a Venetian disguise of a grotesque white mask and black tricorn hat and cloak); F Cage, Frederick Flint (which she did excellently), M Deedes, Orange Woman; Mama, Shepherdess; self, fortuneteller, Edward, … beau; G, Irish postboy; Henry, watchman; William, harlequin, we had such frightful masks, that it was enough to kill one with laughing at putting them on and altogether it went off very well and quite answered our expectations’.

Towards the end of the nineteenth century, the importance of Twelfth Night declined. Some traditions were transferred to our modern Christmas Day – finding a sixpence in the Christmas pudding for example.

As I take down my decorations this year, I will be thinking about times past and the excuse for misrule that Twelfth Night allowed and raising a glass to the Galette des Rois.

Two porcelain feves or charms made to bake in a Galette des Rois. They belong to my sister, who picked them out of a basket containing dozens in a flea market in Provence. She has photographed them with a penny to show how tiny they are.

Isaac Cruikshank’s depiction of a Twelfth Night party, 1794. (courtesy British Museum)

Bystanders’ clothes pinned together outside the bakery by mischievous boys from William Hone’s ‘Every Day Book’ of 1827

An innovative design for an individual Gallete des Rois by George Fuest

You also may like to read about

At The Ceremony Of The Baddeley Cake