TREE OF THE MONTH - MAY 2016: THE HAWTHORN OR MAY TREE

Hawthorn bloom, or 'May'. Image by Pat Parker

'Gives not the Hawthorn a sweeter shade...' The tree of the month for May is, of course, the May tree or Common Hawthorn. We've certainly all cast our clouts here in Dorset as the Mays have been fully 'out' for some three weeks now, those that were earliest to flower now fading - but still giving off one of the sweetest of open air perfumes - at least I find it pleasant, some do not...more later.

Roadside Hawthorns, Corfe Mullen

,For a small, often scrubby tree, the Hawthorn punches well above its weight in folklore, mythology and superstition. One reason might be that they are just so noticeable at this time of year. I drive down this road almost daily and for most of the year pay the hedge little heed. But in May the intermittent thorns shout their presence. Perhaps this accounts for its frequency in place names, and the fact that they are the most frequently mentioned tree in Anglo-Saxon boundary charters. The plethora of vernacular names includes Whitemay, Whitethorn, Quick, Quickthorn, Thorn Apple and, ominously, Mother-die.

There are two distinct forms of Hawthorn in Britain, the Common Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) and the Woodland or Midland Hawthorn (Crataegus laevigata). The commoner one tends to be larger (up to 35ft) with larger and more deeply lobed leaves. It is also more formidably armed with thorns, making it perfect for hedging. Although the two forms are distinct, they are united by specimens of intermediate character and some regard them as two forms of the same species. It is the most common hedgerow tree after some 200,000 miles of thorn hedge were planted after the great parliamentary enclosures of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Hawthorns colonising an old railway line. There was a heady scent and loud hum of insects around the tree as I took the photograph.

That Hawthorn is the symbol of May Day might seem odd, given that it doesn't flower until around the 12th. This is explained by the revision of the calendar in 1752 which did away with 11 days meaning that May Day fell on what, by our modern calendar, is now the 12th of  May. Ancestor of the Maypole, it is also one of the models of Green Men carved into churches and inns. It is strongly associated with the fairies in Gaelic folklore and in Ireland venerable trees are said to be fairy meeting places. It is considered unlucky to uproot them and it was claimed that the demise of the De-Lorean motor company in Ireland was the result of the destruction of a fairy-thorn to make way for the factory.

Although frequently used for garlands and decoration, there is still a widespread superstition that the blossom is unlucky in the house and likely to be followed by a death. Some say this dates from wreaths worn by human sacrifices at Celtic spring festivals - a myth for which there is no evidence. Others say it is the red anthers and white flower that suggest the colour of blood and pallor of death. Many say its roots are in an era of Catholic suppression in Britain where some believed it to be the Virgin Mary's plant and that by bringing the flowers into the house you might be thought a papist. But perhaps the most plausible reason is that one element of the scent is triethylemine, one of the first chemicals given off when flesh begins to decay. Nurses who have worked in Africa have described the scent as being reminiscent of gangrene. Perhaps the superstition dates from a time when corpses were kept at home for a time before burial. Hawthorn must be targeting a particular sector of the insect market in its hunt for pollinators.

But it is also said that the triethylamine scent is reminiscent of the smell of sex, and it is suggested that this feature is implicit in the popular culture of the tree and its role in festivals. Personally, I think that's pretty far fetched.

The triethylamine scent is much more potent from the Woodland or Midland Hawthorn, even being described as nauseating, making this form of the species perhaps more qualified as a harbinger of misfortune.

Haws, Awes, Asogs, Azzies, Aglets, Agags, Agars, Arzy-garzies, Boojuns, Hoppety-Haws. Image by Jean Pol Grandmot - Wikicommons

The thorns or spines are modified branches. Image By MurielBendel (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Glastonbury Thorn: Image Ken Grainger [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Pink flowered Thorn in an old north Wales hedgerow. The pink colour and glossiness of the leaves suggest this is a form of Midland Thorn - but that's a guess. Image by Pat Parker

The double flowered red Midland Thorn - 'Paul's Scarlet'. Echter Rotdorn via photopin (license)

The red fruit and fierce thorns might explain the tree's association with protection and sacrifice - possibly even the source of Christ's crown of thorns. The fruit are an important source of food for birds who perform the task of seed dispersal. They are edible but have been likened to over-ripe apples and are used for jellies and wine-making.

Flower buds and young leaves. Colloquially called 'bread and cheese' and edible. Image By AnRo0002 (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

Perhaps the most famous Hawthorn is the Holy Thorn or Glastonbury Thorn - Crataegus monogyna 'biflora' - which flowers twice a year, in winter and spring. It was said to have grown from a staff planted in the ground by Joseph of Arimathea. The original tree was destroyed during the Reformation and the latest specimen destroyed by vandals in 2003.

A number of red flowering cultivars are derived from the Midland Thorn. I think this is 'Crimson Cloud'. Image by Dave Hitchborne - Wiki Commons

Autumn colour. Not sure of species - sorry! Autumnal foliage [Explored] via photopin (license)

Oriental Thorn - C. laciniata - in autumn. Introduced from the east in 1810

Broad leaved Cockspur Thorn - C. persimilis 'Prunifolia' - USA. Has outstanding autumn colour

Downy Hawthorn - C. mollis - Canada & USA, introduced in 1683

Crataegus astrosanguinea at Cambridge Botanical Garden October 2016

With thanks to Richard Mabey's excellent Flora Britannica from which much of this blog is ruthlessly plundered.