A basket of oranges

Will you find a golden orange in the toe of your Christmas stocking on the 25th? This tradition really developed from the Victorian rituals of family Christmas  - and the story of St Nicholas leaving golden coins in poor children's' shoes.  It became a feature of twentieth century children's Christmases when oranges were more widely available but were still a seasonal treat.

   The Arnolfini Portrait  Jan van Eyck 1434  © National Gallery

If you are London, you can go to the National Gallery and marvel at Jan Van Eyck's portrait of the Arnolfinis, with those luxury status-symbol oranges casually glowing, right  at the edge of the painting.  In the fifteenth century, oranges were grown in Andalucia, introduced by the Moors, and exported to the elite of France and Flanders.  They could cost six times as much as apples, but were prized for sauces, and medicinal use.

In Elizabeth's I's reign, oranges and lemons were more widely available, along with imported spices and sugar, especially in the capital, and were popular candied sweetmeats, although the wealthy preferred their scented (and disease repellent) pomanders not as whole oranges but as a paste in a pierced silver globe.

Seville oranges were mentioned by Shakespeare: "civil as an orange" in Much Ado about Nothing, and   in  Coriolanus a competing "orange-wife and fossetseller ";  and the wealthy landowners began to incorporate special  orangeries  in their gardens. The first oranges grown in England were said to be from seeds brought back by Sir Walter Raleigh, where his relative Sir Francis Carew planted the Orangery at Beddington, Surrey, in the 1580s.

Oranges  F. Guarnieri   mid 20th century  (artuk.org)

The traditional verse "Oranges and Lemons,  Say the bells of St Clement's"  is claimed by St Clement Danes, but also by the smaller St Clement Eastcheap, for its proximity to the Thames wharves where the citrus fruits were unloaded. The origins of this musical game is obscure, but this rhyme is printed in a 1665 edition of The English Dancing Master by John Playford 

After the Restoration of Charles II,  Nell Gwyn was not the only famous orange-seller.  In November 1667 Pepys records at the Theatre Royal,  when the gentleman in front choked on his fruit,  Orange Mall (one Mary Maggs) saved him by putting her fingers down his throat.  The other great diarist, John Evelyn records many visits to orangeries at great estates, and he even grew his own, serving them when he entertained the artist Verrio in  late September 1679.  

Apples and Oranges  Paul Cezanne c. 1900  © Musee d'Orsay

The winter season oranges were then eagerly awaited by those who had to buy them.  Each December John Bonville, cousin of the philosopher John Locke, waited anxiously for the fresh imports, the best ones usually arriving early in January, to send to Locke living at Oates in Essex.  Half a hundredweight in a basket cost five shillings and threepence in Dec 1694, but in 1704 the best shipments did not arrive till 29th January, "after so many weeks which I have been waiting for oranges"  writes Bonville to his cousin.

Now we have oranges all the year round, and the old-fashioned tissue paper wrappers are collectors' items.  

Spanish orange tissue wrapper

Oranges and lemons has become a community children's party game, and is also played at different times of the year, but oranges are still associated with the Christmas season when they seem at their best.   A very happy holiday to all my readers!

 

Oranges and Lemons, 1928   Thos. Saunders Nash  © the artist's estate     Manchester Art Gallery

December Labours - a correction

Remember this prosperous gentleman complete with cat, enjoying his December feast?  I not only got the wrong month, but also the wrong manuscript., for which I apologise to my readers.   

 In fact it illustrates the Calendar month of January (where the year frequently begins with feasting) and comes from the Spinola Hours, one of the finest of the surviving Books of Hours.

Here is the December Calendar page from the series, which shows unsurprisingly,  pigs being slaughtered, a well set-up bakehouse, and a lovely wintry river in the background.  The borders contain scenes from the Gospels and saints,  and Capricorn is shown as land-based hairy goat.

December Calendar page from the Spinola Hours, Flemish c. 1510-20, Workshop of the Master of James IV of Scotland.  Courtesy of the Getty Museum

For anyone who would like to know more about these fascinating medieval illuminated manuscripts,  I can only recommend Christopher de Hamel's book Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts; there is still time to add it to your Christmas list.  

December Labours: the close of the year

The main December labour for the peasant farmers in many Books of Hours seems to repeat November, with the killing of pigs.   But the wealthy who would commission and use these wonderful illuminated manuscripts ( and lived in the castles often shown in the background) would hunt the wild boar.  

December, a boar hunt. Hennessy Book of Hours, Simon Bening 1530-40

© Royal Library of Belgium, Brussels

This forest image is from the Hennessy Book of Hours: the lord's huntsman blows the 'mort' for the death of the boar, and other handlers hold back the dogs to preserve the carcass, while his master is shown with his long spear on a prancing horse:  "they blew the death of the boar, On blaring horns". *  

The artist, Simon Bening, suggesting different phases of the chase, contrasts the vivid colour and action of the hunt with the delicacy of the winter forest foliage and the castle turrets behind.

   December,  from the Tres Riches Heures de Duc de Berry   

attrib. Bartelemey d'Eyck c. 1440s  © Musee Condé, Chantilly France

This earlier miniature, with its equally expensive and vivid blues and scarlets, includes the zodiac signs, showing Capricorn, the sea-goat, as the calendar enters December.  The castle is Charles V's Chateau de Vincennes.

Boar hunts not only provided food for the rich man's feast, but culled the wild boar who would damage woodlands and next year's crops.  The famous Boar's Head Carol was first printed in 1521, celebrating the Queen's College Oxford student who, confronted by a wild boar in the woods, thrust his Aristotle text into the boar's mouth, saying 'Graecum Est' (very loosely translated as 'Meet the Greeks') as it choked.  But the Boar's head Feast is closely linked with the older pagan Yuletide, as the Norse Goddess, Freya, is shown riding on a wild boar.

Other calendar illustrations for December show a scurry of manual activities before the winter closes in, and in preparation for the Christmas and New Year feasts.

Farmers and labourers are usually shown bleeding the domestic pig's throat.  

According to region and climate, some are digging and ploughing for next year's crops,  chopping wood, still cutting pigs' throats for blood sausage (black pudding), baking bread, or already feasting. Below is an image from warmer climes - the pigs are still happily feeding while the farmer digs, ready for planting next year's crops.

December, digging.  Luca della Robbia ceramic ceiling plaque for Piero de Medici c. 1450-56

© Victoria & Albert Museum

A master baker at work,  Hours of Charles d'Angouleme c. 1475-1500

© National Library of France

Note the very clear image of Capricorn with its spiral tail.

These medieval bakers would be in a castle,  or a large town, with quantities to feed.  The dough trough has changed little in shape through the centuries.  (image wikimedia commons)

And finally the feasting, at court, or in prosperous comfort:

Those luxury embroidered table cloths come from Perugia in Italy (image wikimedia commons)

Here is December feasting for the wealthy, in fine domestic comfort, complete with cat.  

Rothschild Book of Hours c. 1500-1520   (see National Library of Australia)

Perhaps this December page from The Golf Book best sums up the end of the year activities and the annual cycle of Labours.  While the huntsmen chase the deer in the background, the farmer prepares his supplies of bread and pork, so there will be plenty of bacon sandwiches to enjoy in the last  month of the year.    

From the late 14th century English poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. see blog, 24 Dec. 2017