Garden

Deck the Halls

holly-berries-CREDIT-molaje

With Christmas upon us Benedict Vanheems explores some of the folklore and tradition behind our favourite festive plants and offers some growing tips

Can you imagine Christmas without the glow of a decadently dressed tree, or a stolen kiss beneath the mistletoe? Would there be that same fizz of excitement if the holly and the ivy or that fiery warmth of the poinsettia were missing? I suspect not. It seems that plants have become a surprisingly integral part of our celebrations at this festive time, even in these days of tinsel and foil.

Holly was considered a holy plant

The use of greenery goes back longer than you might think; indeed many of these plants, including the ivy, have long forgotten pagan undertones. Christmas comes at a time of gloom and darkness and it’s no coincidence that the date of this feast is set during such a dank period in the natural calendar. Many centuries ago celebrations evolved to welcome the winter solstice and embrace the long, slow process of days lengthening once again. These pagan celebrations were occurring long before Christianity arrived to our misty shores. The Romans, for example, took to it with gusto, indulging in an orgy of feasting, drinking, boisterous frolics and outright debauchery. They would decorate their homes with greenery and lights, while presenting green wreaths as gifts. When Christianity finally gained a foothold in the Third Century it was decided that the date of Christmas should be set as 25th December to distract pagan celebrants from all this far-from-Christian excess.

The transition from pagan to Christian was far from smooth, however. Pagan practices, interspersed with Christmas jollies, saw the straight-laced Puritans forbid any celebration of Christmas. Indeed, they were such killjoys that the 25th was ruled an ordinary working day! It wasn’t until the Restoration that Christmas celebrations again returned, although in truth they never really went away in the first place. Over in the United States it took a while for the festive season to be recognised. Outlawed in 1659, it was 22 years before this oppressive law was repealed and it wasn’t until 1836 before the first state to do so, Alabama, made Christmas a legal holiday.

Going green

Throughout history winter greenery and the traditions that go hand-in-hand with it have flourished. Plants that hold their leaves throughout the winter or sport berries during the bleakest of months were seen as almost magical and held in revere as a life symbol. Eager to bring some of the magic home, green branches were brought inside at the solstice to encourage the return of vegetation and the warmth of the sun. Unsurprisingly this always did the trick!

Initially the Church was hostile towards these superstitions but over time greenery made its way into church buildings, with the peak of flamboyance in church decoration occurring in the early 19th Century. Holly was perhaps the first plant to gain acceptance by the Church. Representing the Christ-thorn, it was considered a holy plant. People believed the thorns protected against evil and to carry this good fortune over, holly was often left up right through the year. With its sharp spikes, holly has always been seen as a masculine plant while ivy, its traditional, gently weaving counterpart is female.

Ivy, like holly, was believed to hold evil-repelling properties, coming into its own as a red card for any witches that happened to be in the neighbourhood. It was for this reason that cottage dwellers would allow it to grow over their houses. Many years later the Victorians would use both the holly and ivy to lavishly adorn their parlours, threading ivy leaves together and spelling out messages on linen using holly.

Ivy berries catch the low winter sun

Fertility rites

Mistletoe taps into the vascular system of host trees for its needs

Mistletoe is by far the most curious of our festive fellows. This parasite of fruit trees and oaks has no roots, instead relying on its host for both food and water. The fleshy, antler-like leaves and crystal-white berries were revered by the Druids who saw it as a powerful symbol of fertility, offering peace, luck and protection against disease. The plant was cut from trees on the solstice but was never allowed to touch the ground for fear it might lose its magical properties. Of course, what we all want to know is where did the kissing association sprout from? The ancient translation for mistletoe is literally ‘give me a kiss’, and it was the Tudors and Stewarts who developed its romantic edge by tying up sprigs into ‘kissing bunches’. This most pagan plant, with all its association of romance and fertility, means that even today it is unusual to see mistletoe within the sacred bounds of a church.

Poinsettia is by far the newest kid on the Christmas block. It wasn’t until the 20th Century that these warming, red-bracted plants were grown commercially in Europe, and it was only in the second half of the century that breeding to produce varieties able to survive the dry, hostile climate of our centrally-heated homes saw their popularity really take off.

Now a multi-million pound industry, this glamorous show-off had a humble start. Poinsettias are native to Mexico, where it is tradition to bring flowers to the altar to give as a gift to the infant Jesus. Legend has it that there was a young lad who could not afford to buy any flowers to offer up; even his search for beautiful wildflowers would never bear fruit given the cold of winter. Then one year his luck changed when, dropping behind the other church-goers and sobbing at his failure to find any suitable flowers, an angel took pity on him. The angel told him to pick any weeds he could find and place them on the altar. He did just that, creeping to the altar with a degree of shyness and embarrassment. Then, as they reached the altar, the sorry-looking weeds broke out into the most glorious winter blooms – the poinsettia.

Add a splash of colour with a poinsettia this Christmas

 

Taking them down

Of course, all good things must come to an end and, eventually, all that festive greenery will need to be taken down. Precisely when is open to interpretation. Some say every scrap of Christmas greenery should be removed by the Epiphany on 6th January, though in times gone by pieces were often left up to shrivel away to fuel the fire for pancakes consumed on Shrove Tuesday. Smallholders would also feed Christmas greens to their cattle, though what they thought of this tough and tired offering is not documented.

So as you deck your halls with boughs of holly and hang the mistletoe up in heady expectation, cast your mind back to the customs and traditions that have led you to do so. There might not be as many witches lurking about nowadays, but maybe you should keep some holly and ivy by the door… just in case.