The Hawthorn

By Alison Brooke

 

 

 

“You might say that the Hawthorn bush, plus old John Spiers ancient craft, is responsible for much of the character and individuality of the English scene.”

– (John Moore, “The Countryman’s England”, 1939)

 

 

The merry, merry month of May, harbinger – it might be hoped – to long sunny days and warm summer nights, is also the month in which that unassuming stalwart of the British hedgerow – the hawthorn first comes into its own.

There are two native varieties, Crataegus Monogyna or Common hawthorn, which is also known as quickthorn, whitethorn or maythorn, and  Crataegus Laevigata or Midland hawthorn which appears in the oldest of hedges.

Although primarily a hedgerow plant, the hawthorn can be found as a single tree, growing up to 15m tall.  It is unfussy as to the soil it is growing in, happiest in full sun, and will grow in woodland, scrubland and occasionally farmland – where perhaps a particularly old fashioned and superstitious farmer could display a marked reluctance to remove even the most awkwardly placed hawthorn on account of it being a “fairy tree”.  In fact, it might be described as a fairy tree “par excellence”, steeped in magic and lore, especially when in close association with those other bastions of the British countryside, the oak and the ash.

 

 

 

The Blossom and the Leaf

 

 

The blossom of the hawthorn follows that of the blackthorn, and emerges at around the same time as its leaves.  Hedgerows take on a frothy, white appearance, sometimes with delicate pink edges visible close up. The association in time between the coming of the may blossom, May Day and the Beltane celebrations gave rise to its extensive use in garlands and wreaths, as well as in Green Man decorations.  However, it was never taken indoors as this was considered unlucky, perhaps again due to the reputation of the flowers themselves as being full of fairy magic. The shape of the flowers was thought of as a pentagon, which was sometimes called the “elven cross”, itself imbued with magic.

 

The inhalation of the scent of the common hawthorn blossoms was also said to assist a person in accessing the “other”, fairy, world.  However, opinions on the relative pleasantness of may blossom scent are divided.  It is certainly recognisable and pervasive, sometimes described as carrying notes of vanilla, and certainly heady on a hot afternoon, but in medieval times it was considered to smell of the Great Plague.  This unpleasant association was given credence centuries later, when scientific analysis revealed the presence of a chemical also found in the early stages of the decaying of animal tissue.

 

As a native British tree, the hawthorn is beneficial for hundreds of different types of wildlife, supporting insects, birds and mammals in abundance. The leaves provide sustenance for many moth caterpillars, and the flowers are eaten by dormice, as well as providing nectar and pollen for bees and other pollinating insects. The young leaves and blossom can (and often were) also eaten by humans as part of a salad or in a sandwich. It’s also possible to make a hawthorn blossom sorbet if (like elder) the flowers are picked towards the end of a sunny day.

 

 

 

 

The Haws

 

 

Putting the “haw” into hawthorn, the berries are high in antioxidants and provide a good source of autumn and winter food for migrating redwings, fieldfares and thrushes among others. They are also eaten by small mammals.

Country lore still sometimes states that a plentiful crop of haws indicates a harsh winter, as it is nature (or God’s) way of providing for wildlife.

Culpeper also made use of haws, particularly the seeds in his remedies, incidentally, the number of seeds within each berry indicates whether they are from the Common hawthorn (which has 1) or the Midland (which has 2).

The seeds, ground to a powder and drunk in wine were said to be good for “the stone” and “dropsy”. If the seeds were merely bruised and then boiled in wine, the resulting brew would be beneficial for “inward pains”.

The haws are rich in vitamin C, and more modern remedies suggest creating a syrup which, when diluted 50/50 in water, with a squeeze of lemon and tot of brandy might be a useful cold remedy. They may also be made into a fruit leather, not unlike quince. Be warned, however, as they are not universally thought to be very delicious in taste – perhaps though, haw brandy, made in a similar way to sloe gin, might be a viable option.

 

 

 

 

The Thorns, the Bark and the Wood

 

 

The country hedgerow, which usually contains a lot of hawthorn, is a favourite hiding and nesting place of many birds – the thorns and dense foliage are largely responsible for this.  They have also played a vital part for centuries in separating the farmers’ livestock from the road, from crops and from each other. Hawthorn is an ideal plant for hedge laying, sadly, a little-used craft in the modern day, but which created a dense barrier from the ground up, rather than allowing the holes to form at lower levels, as happens with mechanical cutting.

 

The protective nature of the thorns was recognised by country folk of old, who would sometimes make a globe from twigs to take into the home as a guardian against house fires. The globe would have been ritually taken outside and burned at the end of the year, ready to be replaced by a new one. Hawthorn wood is finely grained and very hard.  Indeed, Crataegus means “strong”, and Culpeper had it as a tree of Mars.  In woodwork, it can be used to make tool handles and boat parts, as well as lending itself to being turned or engraved.  It also burns well, and is said to make fine charcoal.

 

 

Conclusion

 

The hawthorn has played a major role in the British countryside for millennia, and as a result it is not only a major supporter of native ecosystems and a myriad of wildlife, but it has also become venerated by humans who have lived alongside it. It is a tree of folklore, of magic, of medicine, of country crafts, and even of culinary use. Every year it reminds us, with fantastic displays of its blossom and its fruit, of just how essential and how magnificent it is. Next time you are near a hedgerow, remember to look out for the humble hawthorn and celebrate its contribution to our lives.