KING GEORGE bestrode his noble steed, his mighty sword gleaming at his side, his crown, spurs and saddle glinting golden, a perfect picture of poise and majesty. Until the first bite lopped off the monarch's crown, leaving behind a trail of brown, gingery crumbs.
Gingerbread biscuits of today, with their cartoon shapes, iced eyes and, when they are especially dapper, swirly sleeves and sugar buttoned tops, are not a patch on those from centuries gone by. For King George, 'eaten with great relish by his juvenile subjects' in Georgian Britain, was hardly alone: there were also, according to Victorian essayist Henry Mayhew, sheep, dogs, and-best of all-the "cock in breeches", a formidable-looking bird, with his nether garments of gold'. They were the pinnacle of a centuries-old tradition, the origins of which are shrouded in mystery.
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