Thinking about today’s commercialization of Christmas had me reflecting on how different Christmas would have been for my great-grandmothers, one in England and the other in Portugal, 100 years ago.
Their preparations, celebrations, and traditions reflected their social classes and cultural backgrounds, but the essence was the same.
Lily, my English great-grandmother, lived in two rooms in a small, terraced house in Bristol with her two young daughters. Her husband was away at sea, so Christmas was a quiet, intimate affair. The kitchen was shared with another family, which meant limited space, but I am sure that Lily made the day special.
She would have begun preparations weeks in advance. On Stir-up Sunday, the last Sunday before Advent, Lily and her daughters would make the Christmas pudding. Stirring the mix of nuts, dried fruits, breadcrumbs, suet, and spices was a family ritual, with each taking a turn and perhaps making a wish.
Traditionally, a three-penny coin was placed into the pudding for the finder to have good luck. I remember helping my Nanny (Lily’s daughter) with her pudding and my sisters and I were always delighted to find a silver sixpence in our portion. It never occurred to us that Nanny put these in for each of us and we had not found the lucky one accidently!
Lily’s other preparations included making a fruit Christmas cake covered with marzipan and icing, and jars of pickled vegetables or chutneys. Together, the family might also have made gingerbread biscuits and toffee to enjoy or to give as gifts.
By 1924, Christmas trees were becoming more common in working-class homes and so Lily might have bought a small tree, and together the little family would have decorated it with homemade paper chains and cherished glass ornaments. Holly and ivy were used to adorn the room, their rich symbolism of faith, protection and life adding to the holiday spirit.
On Christmas morning, the girls would eagerly check their stockings, hung by the fireplace. Inside, they might find a rare orange, nuts, sweets and perhaps a special gift such as a book, scarf or new doll. Breakfast was simple: porridge with treacle or toast with dripping.
For lunch, Lily would have saved up to buy a small piece of beef or chicken, a luxury for many working-class families, served with potatoes, boiled carrots and parsnips. Dessert was the long-anticipated Christmas pudding, doused in a splash of brandy and set alight. Perhaps Lily joined resources with the other family to share the meal.
The afternoon would be spent playing with new toys or visiting neighbours to share homemade mince pies. As evening fell, the family would gather by the fire reading or listening to the radio. Lily might write to her husband, recounting the joys of the day.
Meanwhile, my Portuguese great-grandmother, Maria das Dores, lived in a ‘palacete’ (a small mansion) in Porto as her husband was the works manager for Porto council. She had a couple of servants and celebrated with her large family of six children.
Maria’s family did not have a Christmas tree as these were not common in Portugal until the 1930s. Instead, the centre piece of their home was the ‘presépio’, a nativity scene crafted from clay figures, moss, and miniature dwellings. Creating the ‘presépio’ was a family affair, and neighbours often visited to admire each other’s displays.
Did you know that it was in Porto in 1865 that the first public tree appeared in Portugal? It was Queen D. Maria II’s German husband D. Fernando who introduced the Christmas trees to Portugal in 1848. It had been his cousin Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort, who had introduced them to Britain in 1840.
In the run up to Christmas, Porto’s streets were full of people who came to sell honey, vegetables and seasonal confectionary. However, by eight o’clock on the 24th they were deserted because the Portuguese celebrate on Christmas Eve rather than on the 25th.
Maria’s family would gather together for ‘Consoada’, the traditional Christmas Eve meal which consisted of boiled ‘bacalhau’ (salted codfish) served with potatoes, cabbage, and boiled eggs, all drizzled with olive oil. Local wines no doubt flowed freely. It was traditional to leave an empty laid place at the table to honour loved ones who had died, a practice still popular today.
Whilst nowadays almost all the Portuguese families have ‘bacalhau’ for Christmas, 100 years ago it was only popular in northern Portugal as each region had its own traditional Christmas fare, mostly consisting of meat dishes.
After dinner, traditional desserts were abundant. ‘Rabanadas’, which are bread soaked in milk and egg, then deep fried and covered in sugar and cinnamon, as well as fried dough pastries called ‘Sonhos’. ‘Aletria’, which is similar to rice pudding, is vermicelli-type pasta cooked in milk or port wine with egg yolks, sugar, cinnamon and lemon, and the iconic ‘Bolo Rei’ (King’s Cake) all adorned the table. The ‘Bolo Rei’ contained a lucky charm and a dry broad bean. Finding the charm brought good fortune; finding the bean meant buying next year’s cake!
As my family were catholic, some family members might have gone to midnight mass called ‘Missa do Galo’, while others stayed home, sipping Port wine and playing games. Then gifts were exchanged. Father Christmas did not exist in Portugal. Instead, gifts were said to come from Baby Jesus and shoes, not stockings, were left out to be filled.
Christmas Day was quieter. Leftovers from the ‘Consoada’ were transformed into ‘Farrapo Velho’ (“old rags”), a dish of fried potatoes, cabbage, and cod. Roast pork or kid goat might also be served for lunch, followed by more desserts and more wine. The men would have gone to the local café or tavern in the afternoon, and the evening would once again have been a family affair of dinner and togetherness.
Though separated by geography and culture, both Lily and Maria’s Christmases shared a common thread, that of love, family and tradition. Lily’s Christmas in Bristol was simple, shaped by her limited resources and her determination to create joy for her daughters. Maria’s Christmas in Porto was grander and with more focus on the religious significance. Both my great grandmothers, in their own way, exemplified the spirit of Christmas, proving that it is not wealth or grandeur that makes the season meaningful, it is the love and care poured into the day’s traditions.
So now you know!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all.
By Isobel Costa
|| features@algarveresident.com
Isobel Costa works full time and lives on a farm with a variety of pet animals! In her spare time, she enjoys photography, researching and writing.
