Christmas Greenery
Nothing can be more heart-warming in the dark days of winter or more symbolic of a traditional Christmas than a house decorated with evergreen favourites. Red-berried holly, white-berried mistletoe, perhaps some ivy - (although this tradition has more or less died out) - not forgetting the ubiquitous Christmas tree itself.
Green Christmas
The basic symbolism of all these varieties of foliage is obvious: they remain green, both outdoors and in, when many trees and plants have lost their leaves and look, effectively, dead. Thus they represent the hope of everlasting life and, in Christian countries at least, have long been regarded as a sign of the resurrection and the vital soul outlasting the death and decay around it.
Unsurprisingly, though, the reverence shown to evergreen plants was already ancient when Christianity adopted the habit – although not before the Church had eventually, and after trying to suppress the ‘old ways’, settled on December as Christmas-time in 440 AD. Quite sensibly, ‘the powers that were’ decided to join rather than try to beat the traditional celebrations of the Pagan Winter Solstice and the Roman festival of Saturnalia. The use of evergreens as decoration was justified by quoting The Book of Isaiah which mentions ‘the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary’.
Many think that the decorated Christmas tree first came to Britain with Prince Albert in 1840, and it is true that this, as well as Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’ or ‘Scrooge’, popularised many of the traditions we take for granted as part of a proper, traditional Christmas. However, the Romans decorated their temples with greenery and decorated evergreen trees too in the winter months. And they weren’t the only ones. The Druids were big mistletoe fans – the Druid revival in the late 18th century re-popularising the habit – and the Saxons wouldn’t have been without their holly and ivy decorations. Long before Christ was even born it is widely, and logically, believed that the rebirth and fertility symbolised by evergreens were central to many cultures in the gloom of winter, and the phallic symbolism of a tree – think of the may-pole - is obvious. Christmas decorations, it seems, all come down to sex in the end.
Mmmmm…mistletoe
Mistletoe (Viscum album), otherwise known as masslin, misle, mislin, kiss-and-go or churchman’s greeting, has long been regarded as much a sex tree as a soul tree. It is a part parasitic plant which grows into the bark of many different species of tree – limes, hawthorns, poplars, sycamore, ash, walnut, almond – although it is most often associated with apple trees. When on a deciduous tree – and the mistletoe on an oak was a prestigious rarity for the Druids and still is – its greenness suspended high up in the branches makes a stunning contrast to the bare leafless branches of its host.
The plant’s strangeness adds to its mystery. It never touches the ground for example. Its seaweed-like pliant rubberiness and the way it emerges from the bark of its host, almost like a snapshot of old life giving birth and sustenance to new, has fascinated and continues to fascinate cultures all over the world. It is a plant revered not only in Europe, but also in Japan and West Africa. It has also been noticed by many that the way the fruit is arranged hanging between a pair of splayed leaves has a likeness to what may be called ‘the male parts’, and the off-white colour of its berries must have intrigued ancient cultures who believed that the male seed was fertility itself. Perhaps that is why it is still officially banned from many churches.
In Britain, it is most likely to be found in warm and wet areas where the plant’s seed can lodge more easily in soft-barked trees: the old orchards of the Severn Valley, Herefordshire, Worcestershire and Somerset. If you have an apple tree in your garden you can even attempt to grow it – (no easy thing) – by squeezing and squashing some seeds into cracks in the bark. The big seasonal market and auction is at Tenbury Wells, Worcestershire in early December, which sells both high quality (often collected by gypsies from hedgerows) and cheaper low quality (cut too early or bruised in shipping from the Continent) bundles of mistletoe.
Incidentally, the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe goes back to at least the early 17th century, but the correct procedure is now seldom observed. After kissing a girl under the mistletoe, the man is supposed to pick a berry. Kissing is supposed to stop when all the berries are picked…
Happy Holly Days
The traditional reverence for Holly (Ilex) is a custom of great antiquity, and it has been used as decoration since long before it was called ‘Christ’s thorn’. As with many seasonal traditions, Christianity hijacked the ‘old ways’ and introduced the idea that the prickles and berries were symbolic of the crown of thorns and Christ’s blood. Wood from the holly tree (there are many other nominees) is also believed by some to have been used for the Cross – perhaps why it is not used as an Easter decoration, which would actually be far more appropriate to the Christian calendar.
The Pagans believed it to be a magical tree – replacing the oak as the king of the wood in winter – and believed it would keep evil spirits away during the darkest days of the year. Much of this magical quality comes from its blood-red berries. Some varieties, however – and there are over 400 different species not including hybrids – have yellow, green or even black berries as well as smooth leaves.
The traditional Christmas holly is the English holly (Ilex aquifolium) which is reassuring spiky and red-berried in winter, and can, if conditions are right, grow to a tree of 15 metres (45 feet).
If there is one word to describe holly, it is ‘tough’ – its determination to grow just about anywhere it wants in forest or field or hedgerow, its waxy almost decay-defying leaves and its hard, close-grained wood that was once used to make whips due to its durable flexibility. Holly also casts a drier shade than any other tree and is the first place animals will shelter when confronted with a downpour. Holly used to be cut for winter feed: animals such as cattle and deer – plus any sheep that can reach – are quite partial to the stuff, thus distributing the seeds far and wide,
Like the ivy, the holly is symbolic of life and fertility, which is absolutely appropriate as most holly trees are either male or female. So if there is no mate in the neighbourhood, not necessarily of the same variety, to fertilise the flowers, your holly won’t get any berries.
It used to be thought that bringing holly into the house before Christmas Eve was unlucky, but the reasons for this belief are uncertain. One thing is certain however: any abode decorated with sprigs of holly at Christmas-time quite simply looks better, feels somehow warmer and is clearly not succumbing to the dark gloom of winter. The shiny deep-green leaves and the bright-red blood-red berries of the holly almost seem to throb with defiance and life.
Enduring Tradition
In decorating our houses with greenery at Christmas we are, whether we know it or not, continuing a tradition that goes back many hundreds and thousands of years. The tradition certainly had more power even in the not-too-distant past, when the weather was often colder, the threat of famine was ever-present, human mortality was far more visible and could and did arrive at any time and at any age, and when there was minimal lighting to brighten things up when the sun went down. The sight of evergreens such as fir trees, holly, ivy and mistletoe in the local leafless and dead-looking wood must have struck people with an extraordinary life-affirming force.
We may do other things a little differently from our forebears, but the human need to overcome darkness and death is nothing less than a human instinct that exists world-wide and is surely as old as humanity itself.
But even without the symbolism – Pagan or Christian or other – the simple fact is that evergreens, quite simply, make fabulous Christmas decorations. And that, in the dark days of winter, is enough.
