In the 1840s and 1850s Queen Victoria and Prince Albert popularised a new way of celebrating Christmas. This engraving from 1840 shows the two monarchs surrounded by children and gifts around a Christmas tree. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
For many, it's unthinkable to celebrate Christmas without a beautiful evergreen fir in the living room decorated with sparkling ornaments and wrapped presents. Like most Christmas traditions, including the celebration of Christmas itself, the origin of the Christmas tree can be traced to pagan traditions. In fact, were it not for Queen Victoria (the most powerful monarch of her time) and a group of German soldiers in a temporary hospital in England, the decorated fir trees we love today might have remained an obscure custom that only a couple of Germanic and Slavic countries practiced.
Pagan origins of the Christmas tree
Ancient Egyptians used to decorate the temples dedicated to Ra, the god of the sun, with green palm during the Winter Solstice. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
Although the Christmas tree is a relatively recent addition to the list of holiday traditions, it goes back several centuries, as do many other customs.
Long before Christianity appeared, people in the Northern Hemisphere used evergreen plants to decorate their homes, particularly the doors, to celebrate the Winter Solstice. On December 21 or December 22, the day is the shortest, and the night is the longest. Traditionally, this time of the year is seen as the return in strength of the sun god who had been weakened during winter -- and the evergreen plants served as a reminder that the god would glow again and summer was to be expected.
The solstice was celebrated by the Egyptians who filled their homes with green palm rushes in honor of the god Ra, who had the head of a hawk and wore the sun as a crown. In Northern Europe, the Celts decorated their druid temples with evergreen boughs which signified everlasting life. Further up north, the Vikings thought evergreens were the plants of Balder, the god of light and peace. The ancient Romans marked the Winter Solstice with a feast called Saturnalia thrown in honor of Saturn, the god of agriculture, and, like the Celts, decorated their homes and temples with evergreen boughs.
It's worth mentioning at this point that Saturnalia was the most important celebration in Roman life. It was a week-long, rowdy celebration held from the 17th of December. It was so wordy, in fact, that at some point, no one could be prosecuted for injuring or killing people, raping, theft -- anything usually against the law really. But although a lot of people blew off steam by taking advantage of the lawlessness, Saturnalia could also be a time for kindness. During Saturnalia, many Romans practiced merrymaking and the exchange of presents -- another practice you may find familiar.
In the early days of Christianity, the birth of Jesus was set on the last day of Saturnalia by the first Christian Romans in power to approach pagans, even though some scholars assert Jesus was born nine months later, or a few years earlier, but that's not a point. It was a clever political ploy, some say, which in time transformed Saturnalia from a frat party marathon into a meek celebration of the birth of Christ.
While a lot of ancient cultures used evergreens around Christmas time, historical records suggest that the Christmas tree tradition was started in the 16th century by Germans who decorated fir trees inside their homes. In some Christian cults, Adam and Eve were considered saints, and people celebrated them on Christmas Eve.
During the 16th century, the late Middle Ages, it was not rare to see huge plays being performed in open-air during Adam and Eve day, which told the story of creation. As part of the performance, the Garden of Eden was symbolized by a "paradise tree" hung with fruit. The clergy banned these practices from public life, considering them acts of heathenry. So, some collected evergreen branches or trees and brought them to their homes, in secret.
These evergreens were initially called 'paradise trees' and were often accompanied by wooden pyramids made of branches held together by rope. On these pyramids, some families would fasten and light candles, one for each family member. These were the precursors of modern Christmas tree lights and ornaments, along with edibles such as gingerbread and gold-covered apples.
Already, a link between trees and Christmas was becoming established. But another key religious figure played a role here.
Some say the first to light a candle atop a Christmas tree was Martin Luther. Legend has it, late one evening around Christmas time, Luther was walking home through the woods when he was struck by the innocent beauty of starlight shining through fir trees. Wanting to share this experience with his family, Martin Luther cut down a fir tree and took it home. He placed a small candle on the branches to symbolize the Christmas sky.
What's certain is that by 1605, Christmas trees were a thing as, in that year, historical records suggest the inhabitants of Strasburg ‘set up fir trees in the parlours ... and hang thereon roses cut out of many-coloured paper, apples, wafers, gold-foil, sweets, etc.’
During these early days of the Christmas tree, many statesmen and members of the clergy condemned their use as a celebration of Christ. Lutheran minister Johann von Dannhauer, for instance, complained that the symbol distracted people from the "true evergreen tree" -- Jesus Christ. The English Puritans condemned a number of customs associated with Christmas, such as the use of the Yule log, holly, and mistletoe. Oliver Cromwell, the influential 17th-century British politician, preached against the “heathen traditions” of Christmas carols, decorated trees, and any joyful expression that desecrated “that sacred event.”
They were largely successful, and the Christmas tree remained a niched celebration. Until Queen Victoria came along.
The modern Christmas Tree
Credit: Pixabay.
In 1846, Queen Victoria and her German husband Albert were sketched in the Illustrated London News standing with their children around a Christmas tree at Windsor Castle. German immigrants had brought the custom of Christmas trees to Britain with them in the early 1800s but the practice didn't catch on with the locals.
But after Queen Victoria, an extremely popular monarch started celebrating Christmas with fir trees and presents hung on the branches as a favor to her husband, the layfolk immediately followed suit.
Across the ocean, in the 19th century, Christmas trees weren't at all popular, though Dutch and German settlers introduced them. Americans were less susceptible to the Queen's influence. However, it was American civic leaders, artists, and authors who played on the image of a happy middle-class family exchanging gifts around a tree in an effort to replace Christmas customs that were seen as decadent, like wassailing. This family-centered image was further amplified by a very popular poem written by Clement Moore in 1822 known as "Twas the Night Before Christmas". The same poem conjured the modern picture of Santa Claus.
It took a long time before the Christmas tree became an integral part of American life during this faithful night. President Franklin Pierce (1804-1869) arranged to have the first Christmas tree in the White House, during the mid-1850s. President Calvin Coolidge (1885-1933) started the National Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony on the White House lawn in 1923.
Though traditionally not all Christian cultures adorned their homes with evergreens and presents, the influence exerted by the West and rising consumerism has turned the Christmas tree into a ubiquitous symbol. In fact, many people of other faiths have adopted the Christmas tree (See Japan for instance).
The Christmas tree has gone a long way from its humble, pagan origins, to the point that it's become too popular for its own good. In the U.S. alone, 35 million Christmas trees are sold annually, joined by 10 million artificial trees, which are surprisingly worse from an environmental perspective. Annually, 300 million Christmas trees are grown in farms around the world to sustain a two-billion-dollar industry, but because these are often not enough, many firs are cut down from forests. This is why we recommend opting for more creative and sustainable alternatives to Christmas trees.
Ah, Christmas is just around the corner. There’s so much going on with gifts and celebrations and meeting up with loved ones that it’s hard to keep up. Then, of course, there’s Santa Claus.
The embodiment of the Christmas spirit, Santa Claus, has undergone quite the metamorphosis over the years, and much of it is not even owed to religion or tradition, but rather because of marketing.
We’ve discussed the date of Christmas and how it is (or rather isn’t) connected to the birth of Jesus, and when we talked about the origins of some of the most popular traditions connected to Christmas. But Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Santa Claus, this bearded jolly man usually represented in green, blue, or purple clothing. Nope, I’m not crazy — Santa Claus used to sport all these colors, and he only became the big red man we know and love today thanks to a company called Coca-Cola — but we’ll get on that just a little bit later. Let’s dive into the origins of Santa Claus.
Saint Nicholas and Christmas
A 13th-century Egyptian depiction of St. Nicholas from Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai. Via Wikipedia.
Santa Claus, also known as Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, and simply “Santa”, is a figure with legendary, mythical, historical, and folkloric origins. In many western cultures, Santa is said to bring gifts to the homes of good children on the night before Christmas, December 24th. However, way before he was Santa Claus, he was Saint Nicholas.
Nicholas was born in Parara, Turkey in 270 CE and later became Bishop of Myra. He played a crucial role in early Christianity and was, by virtually all accounts, a very kindhearted man. Nicholas was famous for his generous gifts to the poor, in particular presenting the three impoverished daughters of a pious Christian with dowries so that they would not have to become prostitutes.
Things took a strange turn in 1087 when a group of sailors who idolized Nicholas moved his bones from Turkey to a sanctuary in Bari, Italy. Not long after that, the cult spread further North, until it was adopted by German and Celtic pagans. These groups worshiped Norse Gods, a pantheon led by Woden (Odin) — their chief god and the father of Thor, Baldur, and Tiw. Odin was usually wearing blue clothing.
Prior to Christianity, the Germanic people celebrated a midwinter event called Yule. During this period, supernatural and ghostly occurrences were said to increase in frequency, such as the Wild Hunt, a ghostly procession through the sky thought to be led by Odin himself. However, something that had happened many times before happened once again: Christianity absorbed this tradition and made it its own. When this happened, the date of 25 December came in and took the traditional 6 December. Saint Nicholas left gifts in the socks or shoes, but Santa Claus would ultimately just leave them under the Christmas Tree — but this took a while, because the Christmas tree wouldn’t become a custom for many centuries.
His appearance also changed from very strong and warrior-like (Odin) to more jolly, bearded, and pleasant-looking. Odin had just one eye, trading the other for a drink from the Well of Wisdom, and he was a fierce warrior. Santa Claus is, well not very warrior-like.
Santa Claus throughout Europe
In the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg, Saint Nicholas (“Sinterklaas”, often called “De Goede Sint”—”The Good Saint”) was an elderly, serious man with white hair and a long, full beard. He wears a long red cape or chasuble over a traditional white bishop’s alb and red clothes. This was, however, the only area in which he was red.
Sinterklaas in 2007. Via Wikipedia.
Meanwhile, in England, they were celebrating Father Christmas since the 16th century – the spirit of good cheer at Christmas, bringing peace, joy, good food and wine, and revelry. In Scandinavia, a being in Nordic folklore called “Tomte” or “Nisse” started delivering Christmas presents. He was wearing grey clothes. In Eastern Europe, they mostly celebrated Saint Nicholas by bringing gifts on the 6th of December (something still celebrated today in many countries, often in addition to Christmas). Other related figures in folklore include Mikulás (Hungary), the Yule Goat (Scandinavia), Olentzero (a Basque character), Befana (Italy), and many more.
Folk tale depiction of Father Christmas riding on a goat. Via Wikpiedia.
So different cultures had different depictions of a Christmas spirit, but at the beginning of the 19th century, the world still hadn’t developed a unified idea of Santa Claus. In the mid-1800s, literature started playing a huge role in promoting ideas about Santa Claus. The book A New-year’s present, to the little ones from five to twelve was published in New York. It contained Old Santeclaus, an anonymous poem describing an old man on a reindeer sleigh, bringing presents to children. The book was immensely popular for the time, and the ideas presented in it spread like wildfire. But most ideas about the modern Santa Claus came from an anonymous publication of the poem “A Visit From St. Nicholas” (better known today as “The Night Before Christmas”) in the Troy, New York, Sentinel on December 23, 1823. This poem would play a key role in defining how we see Santa Claus in the current period.
The poem was later attributed to Clement Clarke Moore. The main idea in the poem is that “He” (Saint Nick) rides a sleigh that lands on the roof, enters through the chimney, and has a bag full of toys. St. Nick is described as being “chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf” with “a little round belly”, that “shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly”, in spite of which the “miniature sleigh” and “tiny reindeer” still indicate that he is physically diminutive. The reindeer were also given names: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder, and Blixem (Dunder and Blixem came from the old Dutch words for thunder and lightning, which were later changed to the more German sounding Donner and Blitzen).
The Modern Santa Claus and Coca-Cola
Haddon Hubbard “Sunny” Sundblom was an American Artist, most known for changing the face of Santa Claus, but also for making a cover illustration on the Playboy magazine, advertising Coca-Cola next to an almost naked, drawn, female character.
Images of Santa Claus were further popularized through Haddon Sundblom’s depiction of him for The Coca-Cola Company’s Christmas advertising in the 1930s. The campaign was so incredibly successful that many people actually thought that Coca-Cola had invented Santa Claus — which, in a way, was not that far from the truth. The company stripped him of his small stature and green/blue/purple clothes and instead, made him a big, lovable, bearded man, dressing him in the company’s red and white colors. This is the Santa Claus that almost all of us know today, and it’s essentially a company’s interpretation of a mishmash of different traditions.
Santa Claus waves to children from an annual holiday train in Chicago. Via Wikipedia.
Yes, Santa Claus has definitely undergone quite the journey. He arose from the cultural merger of Saint Nicholas, Odin, and numerous cults and traditions from all over Europe, was chiseled by 19th-century literature, and ultimately shaped by an advertising campaign resulted in the jolly man we see today. Ho, ho, ho indeed.
A Horten 229 V3 cockpit at display a the National Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, Virginia. Credit: Smithsonian.
In the summer of 1940, Hitler’s Third Reich seemed unstoppable. Earlier, it had seized half of Poland with minimal casualties and steamrolled over Luxemburg, Belgium, the Netherlands, and even France in just six weeks. Only one nation stood in the way of Germany’s imperialistic drive for the total domination of Western Europe: Britain.
But before the Nazis could subdue Britain and launch an invasion across the English Channel, it was paramount that they destroyed the British defenses on its southern and eastern coasts. This was a task for the mighty German air force (Luftwaffe), and by the end of June 1940, German bombers and fighters were whizzing across Britain, attacking the coast and ships.
Although outnumbered at the start of the campaign by four to one, the RAF came out victorious and the Battle of Britain was won by the end of 1940. In the aftermath, Luftwaffe was left humiliated, but the resourceful Nazis weren’t ready to give up.
To counter the Allies, Germany would ramp up the production of next-generation weapon systems with which they hoped to turn the tide of war in their favor. Among these experiments was a new type of aircraft that was so revolutionary and decades ahead of its time, it would forever change the aerospace industry. This fabled aircraft was the Horten Ho 229, a stealth jet fighter that seems more at home causing mayhem during the Gulf war, not WWII.
The Horten Ho 229: the bat-shaped jet plane that would defy all odds
The Ho-229 in flight. Credit: Public Domain.
Britain won the Battle of Britain thanks to the Dowding System, which was perhaps the most advanced air defense system in the world during that time. This brilliant defense system brought together radar technology, ground observation crews, and fighter aircraft to create a unified system of defense around British shores. But the key element was radar, which detected and tracked enemy aircraft, a bit of technology that was ironically invented by the Germans.
In response to the challenge posed by radar, the Luftwaffe ordered its best engineers to design a new high-speed bomber that could evade Allied radar. Herman Goering, the Luftwaffe chief, issued the so-called 3×1000 requirement, meaning he wanted a plane that could fly one thousand kilometers an hour carrying one thousand kilograms of bombs and have enough fuel to travel one thousand kilometers and back.
The Horten brothers, Reimar and Walter, rose to the challenge and developed the Ho 229 V3, a revolutionary aircraft that looked and operated like nothing that came before it. Walter was particularly aware of the kind of job that needed to be done as he had already served as a Luftwaffe fighter pilot during the Battle of Britain, a time during which he became painfully aware of the German air force’s shortcomings.
In order to meet Goering’s demands, the two talented aircraft designers, who were already making their own aircraft from a very young age, had to think completely outside the box. The high-speed requirement meant that they had to ditch turbo propeller engines in favor of a new turbojet engine. But as those of you who have engineering experience might know very well, solving a particular problem can introduce new problems in other areas. In this case, jet engines burn through fuel very quickly — especially the early designs from WWII — so it seemed like it was physically impossible to have an aircraft that could fly really fast but also have a lot of range at the same time.
The Horten brothers: Walter (left) and Reimar (right). Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
This is where the Horten brothers’ key innovation came in. Their solution was to completely revamp the design of the WWII warplane, opting for a tailless plane, or a so-called “flying wing” aircraft. Unlike traditional aircraft, which have a distinct fuselage and tail, flying wing planes have no fuselage, with the wing itself serving as the main structure of the plane.
A flying wing airframe offers a number of advantages, such as a larger internal volume for carrying payloads, but by far the most important benefit is its highly aerodynamic shape that generates almost no drag at all. Since it meets much less air resistance than traditional aircraft, the airframe can attain much higher speeds, and therefore consume less fuel.
The Horten brothers did not invent the flying wing design, nor was it a completely new idea. Northrop, for instance, developed its own prototype for a flying wing bomber during World War II, an ambitious project known as YB-35, which was supposed to be able to bomb Nazi-occupied Europe all the way from North America in the event that Britain fell. However, the Hortens seemed more determined than the Americans to pursue such a design, even though neither model reached mass production.
By far though, the most intriguing part of the flying wing design is its stealth profile. Because it has no tail fins that bounce back radar waves more easily, the Ho 229 was challenging to spot by radar. Don’t imagine it was some F-35 though. The Ho229 still showed up on the radar, but with a much fainter signal. A 2008 reconstruction of the Ho 229 airframe by Northrop Grumman and National Geographic found the Nazi jet would have been detected at a distance 80% that of the standard Luftwaffe Messerschmitt Bf 109 fighter. However, combined with its tremendous speed, this modest stealth would have made all the difference, leaving defenders without enough time to react.
A promising start with an unfulfilled destiny
That all sounds great and dandy on paper, but the engineering reality of it all proved an entirely different matter. There’s a reason after all why these kinds of planes weren’t filling the sky, and that mainly has to do with the poor stability of a flying wing. These airframes have the tendency to “yaw” side to side and can become completely uncontrollable when the engine is turned off.
Despite these important shortcomings, the Horten brothers were given the green light to start work on their ambitious concept in August 1943. To address the instability issues, the German designers made the wing longer and as thin as they could to spread the mass of the aircraft over a greater surface area while also decreasing the amount of air that generates drag through vortices.
The final bell-shaped wing proved to be ingenious, canceling the yawing issues that a tailless aircraft naturally suffers from. The same shape is found in nature, employed by birds that were never equipped by evolution with an upright tail.
Schematic of the Horten H. IX. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
The first three Ho 229 prototypes were unpowered gliders meant to test their aerodynamic design. Following successful tests of the last glider in March 1944, the German engineers mounted two Jumo 004B turbojet engines on the subsequent V2 prototype, each nestled inside either side of the cockpit. The V2 also featured an early ejection seat system and a drogue parachute deployed during landing to offset the jet’s high speed.
On February 2, 1945, the Ho 229 V2 had its maiden flight, which by all accounts proved a huge success. The bat-shaped jet was capable of reaching 975 kilometers per hour and exhibited smooth handling and good stall resistance. The V2 even managed to beat a Me 262 jet fighter (this was the first operational jet in the world) that had the same Jumo 004 engines in a mock dogfight.
But on February 18 disaster struck during another test flight when one of the V2’s engines caught fire and stalled mid-flight. Despite the pilot’s best efforts to turn and dive the aircraft while he attempted to restart the engine, the noxious fumes from the fire caused the pilot to pass out. The prototype subsequently crashed, killing the test pilot.
Despite the tragedy, these tests were heralded as a success, proving that the aircraft could take off, cruise and land. Goering was impressed and approved a fast-tracked production of 40 flying wings under the designation Ho 229 or Go 229. And because the Luftwaffe was so happy with the speed it could attain, the aircraft was repurposed to serve as a fighter armed with 30mm heavy cannons rather than the originally planned role of a bomber. The Horten brothers were also busying themselves with four additional prototypes, numbered V3 through V7, one of which was a two-seat night fighter.
However, the production version never had the chance to fly. The war was going very badly at this point and the Allies were fighting within Germany’s borders themselves. In April 1945, American troops rolled into the factory at Friedrichroda where the Ho 229 was being produced. They found the cockpit sections of prototypes in various stages of development. The most complete of the four, a V3 prototype, was shipped back to the United States to be studied by American engineers, which can be admired on display at the Udvar-Hazy Center of the United States Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, Virginia.
Top panel showing a 3D rendering of the German Horten Ho 229, “the first stealth bomber”, 1944. On the bottom is the U.S. B-2 Spirit, 1989.
Although no Ho 229 aircraft took off, the technology transfer to the United States gave it a second life through the subsequent stealth bombers developed by Northrop, such as the iconic B-2 at the forefront of the US nuclear deterrent air fleet. The unsuccessful YB-35 was plagued by instability issues due to its propeller-driven engines, but the Hortens showed that jet engines were the way to go for flying wing aircraft.
Other aircraft that have been influenced by the Ho 229 V3 include the Northrop YB-49 and the Northrop Grumman B-21 Raider. These aircraft, like the B-2 Spirit, are flying wing designs that incorporate elements of the Ho 229 V3’s revolutionary design.
The Ho 229 would have certainly been a formidable opponent for the Allied forces, capable of flying at least 33% faster than the best Allied fighters of WWII with at least some stealth abilities to boot. Luckily for everyone, the Ho 229 production series never flew, nor did its scaled-up version, the Horten H.XVIII. The latter was a proposedAmerikabomber, a six-turbojet engine flying wing capable of dropping four tonnes of bombs onto the continental U.S. flying from Europe.
The Horten H XVIII Amerikabomber. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
Overall, the Horten Ho 229 was a fantastic aircraft, decades ahead of its time. Its impact can be felt in many of today’s most advanced modern aircraft, which owe much of their design to the pioneering work of the Horten brothers.
As the war ended, Reimar Horten emigrated to Argentina, where he continued designing and building flying wing gliders, including one experimental supersonic delta-wing aircraft and a four-engined flying wing cargo aircraft, the FMA I.Ae 38 Naranjero, intended to carry oranges from farmers to Buenos Aires. Walter stayed in Germany after the war and became an officer in the post-war German Air Force. Reimar died on his ranch in Argentina in 1994, while Walter died in Germany in 1998.
Every fall, thousands and thousands of pumpkins are carved into scary shapes and lit up from the inside, becoming the infamous mascots of Halloween. But why do we even do that? Let’s take a look at how this tradition emerged and why Halloween pumpkins are so popular.
The origins of Halloween
Hallowe’en is one of the most popular holidays in the world, at least in some countries. The holiday first began as a Celtic celebration called Samhain. Over time, it evolved into a celebration of costumes, trick-or-treating, and candy. Today, it is widely known as an international children’s day that celebrates fun and spooks.
But indeed, the origins of Halloween are actually connected to pagan beliefs and don’t originate in Christian rituals, as many believe. Truth be told, today it’s kind of a hybrid celebration, incorporating both Celtic and Christian traditions, as well as modern traditions.
Halloween was previously called “All Hallows’ Eve”, which already starts to give an indication about its origin. All Hallows’ Eve is a Christianized feast influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, with pagan roots in the Gaelic festival Samhain. Samhain is the Celtic festival that celebrates the end of harvest. It marks the beginning of winter, and was also historically known as “the night before All-Saints Day.” Samhain was a festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the “darker half” of the year. Traditionally, Samhain is celebrated from sunset on 31 October to sunset on 1 November, which is about halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice.
Burning scarecrow at a modern Samhain celebration. Image credits: Sylvan Smith.
When the Christians expanded to Western Europe, they came across these Gaelic populations and wanted to convert them. However, they realized that if they tried to replace their celebrations, it’d be really difficult to convert them, so they went for a different strategy, and allowed the populations to keep their celebrations, but gave them a Christian flavor. The pagan harvest fest was blended in with the three-day observance of Allhallowtide, the time in the liturgical year dedicated to remembering the dead, including saints (hallows), martyrs, and all the faithful departed believers.
Originally, no meat was eaten for All Hallows’ Eve, but today, abstinence from meat is not generally required, although eating certain vegetarian foods for this vigil day is still common, especially apples, colcannon, cider, potato pancakes, and soul cakes.
Which leads us to our question: why do we carve pumpkins?
Jack O’Lantern
Carved pumpkins (or in some cases, turnips), are also called Jack O’Lanterns. We don’t know for sure where this practice comes from, but it seems to come from an old Irish legend, the legend of Stingy Jack.
However, carving vegetables has been a common practice in many parts of the world; gourds are among the earliest domesticated plants, and there are some indications that they were carved as early as 10,000 years ago. Gourds were used to carve lanterns by the Maori over 700 years ago, and the Maori word for a gourd is actually used to describe a lampshade. However, today’s Halloween carvings likely occur from the British and Irish regions. So, what about Stingy Jack?
According to the story, Stingy Jack once asked the Devil to have a drink with him, which is a weird start, but it gets even weirder. True to his name, Stingy Jack didn’t then want to pay for his drink, which shows just how much nerve he had. He convinced the Devil to turn into a coin so that he could pay for the drinks, but when the Devil did turn into a coin, Jack decided to keep the money in his pocket, next to a silver cross – which prevented the Devil from turning back to his original shape. Jack eventually freed the Devil, under the condition that he would not bother Jack for one year and leave his soul alone.
Still, it gets even stranger.
Jack met up with the Devil at some later point and somehow managed to convince him to climb up a tree to pick up some fruit. He then sculpted a cross on the tree’s bark to prevent him from getting down, forcing a promise that he will be left alone for ten more years and that his soul will not be claimed. Why didn’t he just ask him to be left alone for good, I don’t know. Jack was a strange guy.
But not long after that, Jack’s soul passed away. God didn’t really want the likes of Jack in Heaven, so he sent him to hell. But the Devil was still upset by Jack’s tricks and he had to keep his word and not claim his soul. So instead, he sent Jack off into the dark night with only a burning coal to light his way. Jack put the coal into a carved-out turnip and has been roaming the Earth ever since. He was called Jack of the Lantern, or for short – Jack O’Lantern.
The people thought that by making their own lanterns to scare Jack off. In Ireland and Scotland, they used turnips or potatoes and placed them by the window. In England, large beets were used. The British and Irish that moved to the US took this tradition with them and discovered that the pumpkin, a species native to America, works perfectly for that, so they used pumpkins instead.
Carved Jack. Image in Wiki Commons.
There are other similar (or different stories), but in all the stories, there’s someone that makes a deal with the Devil to have his soul free.
Today’s Pumpkins
Today, carving pumpkins is as much an industry as it is a tradition. Over 1.5 billion pounds (680,000,000 kilograms or 680,000 tonnes) of pumpkins are produced each year and are grown each year. Interestingly, 90% of the pumpkins grown in the United States are raised within a 90-mile radius of Peoria, Illinois, and even more interestingly, most pumpkins are processed into canned pumpkin puree and canned pie mix – so they’re not for carving.
There are pumpkin carving competitions, and the scary faces traditionally made on pumpkins are often replaced by other creative designs. The world’s largest jack-o’-lantern was carved from the then-world’s-largest pumpkin on October 31, 2005, in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania; it weighed 1,469 lb (666.33 kg) on October 1, 2005.
You can get creative with the pumpkins.
But without a doubt, carving pumpkins is for everyone. If you’re looking for a creative way to spook your friends and family this Halloween, or just signal to kids that you’re welcoming trick or treating, carving a pumpkin is definitely the way to go. There are many different ways to carve a pumpkin, but the most common methods involve using a solid knife to cut the top (or the bottom) of the pumpkin. You can use a mixer or a spoon to take out the inside, and then with an erasable marker, draw the outline of the pumpkin. There are a million designs you can find online, but if you’re new to carving pumpkins, stick to something simple. Then, if you want the pumpkin to last more, apply vaseline to the edges and finally, place a candle inside for lighting. You can use the insides (without the seeds) for baking or even for mixing into drinks (how ’bout an authentic pumpkin spice latte?) — you can even freeze the pumpkin insides for later use, to avoid food waste.
So, prepare your pumpkins and your carving knife, because we couldn’t really imagine Halloween without pumpkins, could we? It’s not about making the best ones, it’s about enjoying a century-old tradition — and keeping Jack o’lantern away.
From cartoons to billboard advertisements, the prototypical Viking is portrayed as muscular, red-bearded with a long mustache, and always wearing a steel helmet adorned with cow horns. Admit it, when you imagine a Viking, that’s what immediately pops up in your head.
I hate to break it to you, but we’ve all been living a lie. There is no archaeological evidence to support the fact that Vikings ever sported any headgear other than simple iron helmets or leather caps. But if that’s the case, where did this enduring stereotype emerge from? Well, you have some Scandinavian set designers and one of Wagner’s most iconic operas to blame.
A myth that will live on as long as a timeless opera
It was the year 1876 and all of Germany’s most powerful and fashionable society flooded the quaint, small town of Bayreuth to witness the premiere of Richard Wagner’s highly anticipated new opera, a Norse drama called Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung) that fused elements of German and Scandinavian myths and folklore.
The term ‘epic’ barely captures the weight and intensity of this truly monumental work. A full performance totaled almost 15 hours, usually spaced over the course of four nights at the opera, where each night is dedicated to a musical drama. The operas are Das Rheingold (“The Rhine Gold”), Die Walküre (“The Valkyrie”), Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung (“The Twilight of the Gods”).
The story itself is a sort of Norse Lord of the Rings, following the struggles of multiple gods, heroes, and mythical creatures over a magical ring that grants its wearer domination over the entire world. The cycle of the four operas unfolds over the course of three generations of protagonists, with the story ending with Götterdämmerung.
The Ring of the Nibelung was meant to be a huge show from the very beginning, and everything was prepared at the highest standard, including the set design. So the production team hired famed costume designer Carl Emil Doepler, who made some incredible garments and props for the operas, including winged and, you’ve guessed it, horned helmets. Doepler’s original concept drawings for the Viking costumes are truly exceptional.
As expected, Wagner’s opera proved an instant hit and it was soon imported by production companies across the world. And as the opera’s influence grew, so did the myth of the Vikings wearing cow-like horned helmets. It’s not clear why Doepler chose this artistic depiction. Perhaps he was influenced by ancient Greek and Roman historians who reported northern European tribesmen wore helmets adorned with all sorts of ornaments, including antlers, feathers, and horns.
Nevertheless, the imagery of horned Viking helmets stuck and was subsequently amplified in the decades that followed the death of Wagner and Doepler. For instance, in 1960, the professional football team based in Minneapolis took the name Minnesota Vikings and adopted the profile of a blond Norseman with a helmet with horns as its logo. Around the same time, Marvel Comics introduced a new fictional comic book superhero called Thor, based on the Asgardian god of thunder, depicted as a giant carrying his mighty hammer Mjolnir, with a winged helmet on his head. The myth of the horned Viking helmets is so prevalent nowadays that even Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians wear these helmets when they dress up for an event or attend a major sporting event to support their Scandinavian teams.
What did Vikings actually wear?
The Gjermundbu helmet. Credit: Ove Holst / Cultural History Museum.
Vikings originated in what is now Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. These were seafaring warriors that left their homelands in vast numbers and began raiding coastal cities between the 8th and the 11th century. The British Isles, and especially undefended monasteries, were targeted. These raids proved wildly successful and the Vikings became extremely powerful, controlling many vast regions in Britain, Ireland, France, and Germany, and colonizing Iceland and Greenland. The so-called Viking Age ended in the mid-1000s when all of Scandinavia converted to Christianity and Viking culture became absorbed by the larger Christian Europe.
The Vikings were formidable seamen and warriors, which explains their success. The common Viking fought with a spear and shield, while the nobles and bravest warriors also wore armor and helmets. But although archaeologists have found numerous Viking-era clothing, axes, arrows, and all manner of weapons, only a single preserved helmet has been found — the Gjermundbu helmet from Norway.
The Gjermundbu helmet, alongside a sword and chain mail, was found in a mound at a farm in 1943. Although it is the only Viking-era helmet ever found, it’s very well preserved giving us a hint of what Viking warriors truly wore, although this particular gear was probably owned by a chieftain or some other high-status individual judging by its fine craftsmanship. The helmet had a metal frame around the eyes, like glasses, and plates at the back that protected the warrior’s neck. The inside of the helmet would have been lined with wool or leather to soften blows, like the styrofoam lining in a bicycle helmet. This is a much more practical design for a warrior, unlike horned helmets that would easily tangle in battle and cause more harm than good.
Sword, pieces of chain mail, and a stirrup from the Gjermundbu burial. Credit: Museum of Cultural History, UiO/ Vegard Vike/ Ove Holst/ Ellen C. Holte.
The real horned helmets from Scandinavia
Horned helmet dated to 900 B.C. Credit: National Museum of Denmark.
Horned helmets really did exist in Scandinavia, it’s just that they predate the Vikings by almost 2,000 years. The extraordinary Bronze Age Viksø helmets were found in a bog on the island of Zealand in 1942 and archaeologists think they were rather common in Scandinavia between 3,700 and 2,500 years ago. There are also petroglyphs from the Bronze Age in western Sweden and southern Norway, in which such horns often appear on the heads of human figures carved into stone.
The two helmets are currently housed at the National Museum of Denmark. Besides the horns, the helmets feature decorations, such as the beak and eye of a bird of prey, and had fittings that look like they were intended to attach feathers or even a mane of horse hair.
“There are many indications that these were not helmets made for combat either,” Ingrid Ystgaard, a Norwegian archaeologist, told Science Norway. “What they were used for at the time is just speculation. But one suggestion is that they were part of ritual retellings of ancient myths.”
Credit: Thomas Bredsdorff / National Museum of Denmark.
Although people have associated the Viksø helmets with Vikings, that is nonsense. Not only are these horned helmets from the Bronze Age, and nothing like them has been found in the Nordic countries since the time of the Romans, the horned theme is actually an ancient Near East and Mediterranean motif.
In fact, scientists believe that these horned helmets represent convincing evidence that ancient Scandinavian people had sophisticated trade networks with southern Europe, and this exchange likely involved sailing along the Atlantic coast rather than trekking across the Alps. These cultural exchanges were secondary to the much more important trade in materials such as copper and tin, which are used to make bronze and cannot be found in Scandinavia.
The bottom line is that the Vikings never wore horned helmets. They never went to the opera either, so there’s your hint right there.