CHRISTMAS is reassuringly infused with comforting traditions. Cards start fluttering in, Father Christmases appear soon after, a tree is erected and the celebrated (or despised) pudding is finally consumed on December 25. Remarkably, a great deal of these traditions stem not only from one era, but also from the same source: the Victorians practically invented Christmas as we know it. Mix that with a bit of paganism and capitalism to get a uniquely British celebration of a Christian festival.
The need to brighten up our homes during the dark season is probably as old as humanity. Our pagan ancestors used evergreen twigs and lights during the winter months as a symbol of life and hope. These qualities made the same decorations a suitable representation of the birth of Christ, marked at about the time of the winter solstice. Thus, early Christians use the outward manifestations of their heathen feast when celebrating an important date in the calendar of their newly adopted religion.
The use of an entire fir tree as Christmas decoration is much more recent and is first documented in 1539, when a group of German Lutherans set one up in Strasbourg. The custom spread throughout the Rhineland. From here, the Hanoverian monarchies, more specifically Queen Charlotte, introduced the first 'Christmas tree' to the British Isles. In preparation for a children's party at Queen's Lodge, Windsor, in 1800, she had one placed in the centre of the room decorated with candles, sweets and toys. Considering the cost of candles alone, this must have seemed a terribly lavish gesture.
This story is from the December 13 - 20, 2023 (Double Issue) edition of Country Life UK.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the December 13 - 20, 2023 (Double Issue) edition of Country Life UK.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Give it some stick
Galloping through the imagination, competitive hobby-horsing is a gymnastic sport on the rise in Britain, discovers Sybilla Hart
Paper escapes
Steven King selects his best travel books of 2024
For love, not money
This year may have marked the end of brag-art’, bought merely to show off one’s wealth. It’s time for a return to looking for connoisseurship, beauty and taste
Mary I: more bruised than bloody
Cast as a sanguinary tyrant, our first Queen Regnant may not deserve her brutal reputation, believes Geoffrey Munn
A love supreme
Art brought together 19th-century Norwich couple Joseph and Emily Stannard, who shared a passion for painting, but their destiny would be dramatically different
Private views
One of the best ways-often the only way-to visit the finest privately owned gardens in the country is by joining an exclusive tour. Non Morris does exactly that
Shhhhhh...
THERE is great delight to be had poring over the front pages of COUNTRY LIFE each week, dreaming of what life would be like in a Scottish castle (so reasonably priced, but do bear in mind the midges) or a townhouse in London’s Eaton Square (worth a king’s ransom, but, oh dear, the traffic) or perhaps that cottage in the Cotswolds (if you don’t mind standing next to Hollywood A-listers in the queue at Daylesford). The estate agent’s particulars will give you details of acreage, proximity to schools and railway stations, but never—no, never—an indication of noise levels.
Mission impossible
Rubble and ruin were all that remained of the early-19th-century Villa Frere and its gardens, planted by the English diplomat John Hookham Frere, until a group of dedicated volunteers came to its rescue. Josephine Tyndale-Biscoe tells the story
When a perfect storm hits
Weather, wars, elections and financial uncertainty all conspired against high-end house sales this year, but there were still some spectacular deals
Give the dog a bone
Man's best friend still needs to eat like its Lupus forebears, believes Jonathan Self, when it's not guarding food, greeting us or destroying our upholstery, of course
