The Skeleton Horse's

Picture a small town on the coast of 19th century Wales. A family gathers around the hearth, a pan of butter toffee bubbling on the embers. The house is decorated with fragrant pine branches, and the glow from small candles perched on the limbs of a Christmas tree lights the room.

Through a window, they see torchlight coming up the path towards the cottage, accompanied by chanting. Suddenly, three hard knocks at the door. when the door opened an impossibly tall and terrifying figure looms over the family.

Draped in dirty white linens, its head is a horse's skull with glass baubles in the eye sockets. Ribbons tied around the skull stream in the wind behind it like the hair of some horrific sea monster.

Then, all at once, the group begins a merry tune,stomping and clapping in timewith the grim horse's head bobbing along. The family responds with a joyful verse of their own, and before long, the whole group has made their wayinto the cottage and are clinking tankards together.

It sounds like we've just stepped into a scene from A Nightmare Before Christmas, when in fact, it is a centuries-old tradition from Wales called Mari Lwyd. One, it seems, of many that blend a bitof scary into their Merry Christmas.

This figure was called Mari Lwyd, while often referred to as the name of the creature, is actually the title of the tradition itself. This Christmas-time figure consists of an animal skull, typically from a horse or cow, mounted atop a pole with a sackcloth or sheet draped down to hide the person carrying it. The skull is often adorned in intricate ways, with some versions featuring glass ornaments for eyes, along with ribbons, bells, and various other decorations.

However, one element is always present: the group that accompanies Mari Lwyd. To better understand this tradition, it's useful to first look at a related custom in the British Isles known as wassailing.

Wassailing is a Christmas tradition that dates back to the Middle Ages. While the details can vary from place to place, the practice generally involves a group of people going from house to house, sharing drinks and singing carols with the local villagers.

The tradition often involves a kind of performative bartering, where taking a drink from the wassail bowl is exchanged for a gift of some kind. While wassailing is still practiced in certain parts of the British Isles, over time, the tradition has evolved into what we would now call caroling.

So, how does a skull fit into all of this? We’ll dive into the various theories about its origins a bit later, but for now, let's look at the logistics. The Mari Lwyd is one of the key figures in the Welsh wassailing procession.

Alongside this skeletal companion, there is typically a leader who guides the group through their rounds, often the most formally dressed person. Other characters, like the infamous, rosy-cheeked and violent Punch and Judy puppets, are also commonly included.

The group makes its way through the town, and upon reaching a home, they start a call-and-response song with the inhabitants. There are many versions of the song, both traditional and modern, but the basic idea is that the wassailers ask for permission to enter and share food and drink. The people inside respond in song, usually offering excuses for not letting them in. This back-and-forth continues until the household can’t come up with any more excuses, at which point they must grant entry, and a joyful celebration begins.

While the details may vary by region and era, once inside, the group enjoys holiday treats and shares ale, while the Mari Lwyd’s skull playfully chases after both children and adults, provoking both screams and laughter.

Some elaborate Mari Lwyd creations even feature a snapping jaw, made possible by a lever or string mechanism. Interestingly, this tradition is part of a larger group of hooded animal customs found throughout the British Isles. These include the Old Horse, Old Ball, and Old Tup traditions of Northern England, the Hoodening of Kent, and the Broad of the Cotswolds. While these other traditions often involve a less intimidating hobby horse and aren't always tied to Christmas, they share similar themes.

So where exactly did this tradition originate, and what does the name "Mari Lwyd" actually mean? There’s some debate surrounding both. Iorwerth Peate, a 20th-century Welsh poet and scholar, suggested that the Mari Lwyd was a pagan custom predating Christianity, much like many other holiday traditions. However, there is no concrete historical evidence to support this theory. Despite this, Peate and others clung to the idea of its ancient origins.

Peate believed that the tradition had roots in fear. The winter holidays, a time of darkness, cold, and death, could certainly evoke a sense of mortality, and a skeletal horse skull certainly plays into that theme. Initially, Peate thought the name "Mari" might refer to the Virgin Mary, but later he reconsidered, suggesting that it was more likely derived from the word "mare," meaning a female horse.

Other Welsh scholars from the 20th century largely agree with Peate’s view. Ellen Ettlinger, a British art collector and folklorist, believed that Mari Lwyd was connected to the Pagan holiday of Samhain, symbolizing death.

Some folklorists have also suggested that the tradition may have once symbolized fertility, later evolving into a symbol of good luck. The Celtic Isles are home to many equine deities, such as Rhiannon in Wales, Epona in Gaul, and Macha in Ireland. However, there is little evidence to support these theories, especially considering the lack of references to such practices in documents from the late medieval period.

What we do have plenty of evidence for, however, are references to hobby horses throughout the 16th and 17th centuries across the region. These costume characters, meant to resemble real horses, were commonly used by jesters and merrymakers during the Middle Ages. The earliest mention of such figures dates back to the 1300s in a poem by a Welsh author, who humorously described the hobby horse as having a miserable set of "lathe legs"—in other words, very skinny wooden legs.

The first known written reference to the Mari Lwyd, however, appears only in the 19th century, where it was condemned as immoral. Instead of being part of an ancient pagan tradition, the Mari Lwyd is likely a uniquely menacing Welsh variation of the many hooded animal traditions found throughout the British Isles.

The etymology of the Mari Lwyd is, unsurprisingly, quite unclear, with many scholars divided over its true origins. It is widely agreed, however, that the term likely means "gray mare," particularly since the Welsh word "llwyd" translates to "gray." This interpretation also aligns with other hobby horse traditions across the region, especially in Ireland and the Isle of Man. In the Celtic language of Manx, it's known as the "laare vane," which means "white mare."

Despite this, a connection to the Virgin Mary still lingers in many modern versions of the Mari Lwyd, with several traditional songs making clear references to the mother of Jesus. But then again, it is the Yuletide season.

Although the tradition includes these Christian elements, the Mari Lwyd was largely absent from public life for much of the early 20th century, due to disapproval from local Christian clergy and the general shift away from older practices in an increasingly modern world. However, by the mid-20th century, the Mari Lwyd began to make a comeback.

A 1941 poem by Vernon Watkins, The Ballad of the Mari Lwyd, was well-received in Welsh literary circles. Susan Cooper's 1977 novel Silver on the Tree also helped bring it back into the spotlight, featuring the Mari Lwyd as an undead unicorn and protector of a magic sword in the mythical sunken lands off the coast of Wales. How that hasn’t been made into a movie yet is beyond me.

Later on, the Mari Lwyd gained wider recognition outside of Wales, particularly through the tabletop role-playing game Dungeons & Dragons.

In Dungeons & Dragons, the Mari Lwyd is an undead horse that speaks in rhyme, seeking entry into homes to devour food and drink before resting, inspired by the original folklore. In 2000, artist Clive Hicks-Jenkins featured the Mari Lwyd in a series of drawings, portraying it as a harbinger of his father’s death, accompanied by poems by Catriona Urquhart.

Throughout the 20th century, Mari Lwyd celebrations became more common in Wales, culminating in the 2000s with Aberystwyth’s "World’s Largest Mari Lwyd" during a millennium celebration. Today, the Mari Lwyd continues to appear in Christmas festivities across Wales and parts of England.

Christmas monsters like Frau Perchta, Krampus, and Gryla reflect the complex relationship humans have with winter. Despite the holiday's associations with joy, many cultures incorporate dark, spooky figures, rooted in traditions like the Roman Saturnalia and Nordic Yule, which included feasts, sacrifices, and debauchery.

Winter brings both wonder and fear, and the Mari Lwyd, though menacing in appearance, is seen as a fun part of these celebrations. The blending of merriment and terror, as with the Mari Lwyd, reflects the dual nature of winter traditions.