Sealed with a kiss

Peaking at Christmas, regard for mistletoe is deeply rooted in myth and legend, finds Ian Morton-not to mention the age-old tradition of kissing underneath it

- Ian Morton

IT'S one of those Dickensian passages that conjures up exactly how we envisage Victorian jollity at Christmas: From the centre of the ceiling, old Wardle had just suspended with his own hands a huge bunch of mistletoe, and this same branch of mistletoe instantaneously gave rise to a scene of general and most delightful struggling and confusion, in the midst of which Mr Pickwick, with a gallantry that would have done honour to a descendant of Lady Tollimglower herself, took the old lady by the hand, led her beneath the mystic branch, and saluted her in all courtesy and decorum.' A gentleman indeed, although delightful struggling and confusion was more likely with mistletoe aloft, for convention allowed any man to kiss any woman standing beneath it and she who refused was inviting bad luck.

In Britain, the idea of kissing under the mistletoe had arisen among servants in the 18th century, an echo of ancient rites. Then, folklore joined the party. A single girl not so kissed would remain unwed for another year. Mistletoe placed under her pillow would generate dreams of her future soulmate. Christmas mistletoe burned on Twelfth Night ensured that those who had kissed under it would marry. The tradition spread into 19th-century society and became incorporated in Christmas celebrations across the English-speaking world, including in the US, where Washington Irving recorded it in 1820.