An enigmatic figure is to be found in thousands of images carved in stone in the Medieval churches of Europe. It appears normally as just a face, usually male, sprouting foliage, becoming foliage, or growing from foliage. It has been suggested that this figure, now known as the Green Man, was a special sign for the stonemasons but there are probably just as many in wood as in stone. He is, though, almost confined to the building trades being uncommon in painting, manuscript, or stained glass. Furthermore, and mysteriously, no known Medieval account explains the reason for the Green Man.
    The expression "Green Man" today embraces far more than just the carved figure of the Middle Ages. About sixty years ago connections were first conceived between a number of separate historical strands and these connections have been developed more recently: a number of separate traditions linking humanity with nature have now become seen as differing manifestations of a very fundamental and basic pattern lying deep within the human mind. Such a universal pattern, shared by all, expressed through varying symbolic forms, is termed by psychologists an archetype. In this case the Green Man represents the archetype which channels and reinforces a mental attitude of sympathy for, and with, nature.
    The modern concept of the Green Man associates it with a number of strands: a group of ancient tree myths; the idea of the Tree of Life; related foliage folk customs found all over Europe; folk tales such as those of Robin Hood, Gawain and the Green Knight and others; the idea of the Wild Man or Woodwose; and the old English inn name, "The Green Man", which has given the symbol its current title.
    These strands are not directly linked by historical circumstances but by archetypal association within human consciousness. The Green Man archetype is seen as coming into manifestation in popular consciousness, periodically encouraged, in response to the circumstances of the time. Its current emergence is seen to derive from a widespread instinctive communal awareness of the ecological crisis being caused by our increasingly unbalanced way of life.

Folk Customs

Ancient mythology tells, in many forms, of the Mother Goddess bearing a son without a father; a son who is put on the earth in order to help humanity with what it needs. But while this son is of divine origin he is not immortal and must therefore die.
    In some of the myths he is associated with a tree and this connection extends into Egyptian and Classical times. His death and renewal were associated with Spring-time regeneration, the miracle essential to all communities. Furthermore, the essential mythological basis depicts the divine originator of this son as being feminine: the Mother of all. Her human-divine offspring are revealed as masculine in a mythological weaving of the traditional understanding of the origin and role of the feminine and masculine.
    Springing from this mythology are folk customs which, in Europe and elsewhere, celebrate the regeneration of life in the Spring and the regeneration of the community with new birth. Michael Dames has written convincingly of the megalithic alignments at Avebury being used for this purpose in the Bronze Age.1 Customs of this type, although forbidden in Britain during the Puritan periods, continue in this country in many places and survive all over Europe. Their antiquity is never on record and they are first mentioned in print only about three hundred years ago but their origin must be much earlier since it is implausible to envisage folk customs of this nature being inaugurated so recently.
    The common factor in these customs is a character, always male and covered in foliage, known in many places as "Jack in the Green" and usually associated with the May Queen who herself represents the Goddess as Virgin. In some of the historic customs "Jack in the Green" is symbolically executed to allow in the spirit of Summer. In Britain probably the best of these folk customs are to be found in Hastings and Rochester on the early May Bank Holiday, and in Castleton, Derbyshire on Garland Day, 29th May,

The Wild Man

One of the Medieval sources of the Green Man may have been the sense of spirits in nature and the idea of the Wild Man, or Woodwose, a legendary natural man living in the wild. The ancient belief that primitive men were living wild in the forests was reinforced by actual alienated individuals and outlaws living in that way and naturally connects with stories such as that of Robin Hood; a connection supported by the traditional image used on signs of a "Green Man" inn - Robin Hood, or a forester, or a wild figure covered in hair and brandishing a club.
    The Wild Man also has a psychological significance: it represents the natural person within each of us; our tastes and our talents which we have to direct to act well in the world. The Wild Man is by no means a negative image. One set of figures in York Minster shows a Wild Man protecting a Green Man from a demon – the Green Man, as we shall see, representing divine consciousness in the world being guarded by the natural forces within us. The Green Man is a worldly angel, acting not "from above" but from within the world itself. The Wild Man does not need to be subdued but his potential has to be made real, has to be tamed or smoothed – like the rough ashlar, another symbol of completion familiar to Freemasons. We have to bring together both the angel, and the Wild Man, within us.

The Carved Image

The principal incarnation of the Green Man is as a carved image, a face integrated with the foliage spilling out of it. The image is international but the different traditions appear to be separate which reinforces the concept of the image as a variation of a single archetype. Although many are inclined to seek a Celtic origin for the figure, in the European tradition its origin appears to be Roman as revealed in carved foliate heads dating from the second century AD together with some mosaic images in several places. The earliest known Green Man in a Christian context is found on a slightly later tomb in Poitiers but the figures remain uncommon in Christian iconography until the twelfth century, reaching their heyday perhaps in the fourteenth. After the Renaissance (fifteenth century) and the Reformation (sixteenth century), the Green Man continued as a decorative image in architecture until its use faded in the early twentieth century – until the current revival which began around 1990. At present, Green Man images are occurring widely; in the restoration of Windsor Castle, for example.
    The most significant period in the life of the carved image was the Middle Ages when thousands of green men were included in church iconography. And, in spite of a complete lack of any contemporary account of the image, or the reasons for including it amongst the saints and sinners, there is a powerful sense that the green men in churches convey a profound meaning, a meaning most probably not explicitly expressed at the time – otherwise surely someone would have written of it?. They are more than conventional decoration and are found in conspicuous and important locations.
    Of course, not every building was composed with a symbolism fully appreciated and many decorative features must have merely followed local precedent. Nevertheless, many of the images, especially in parish churches, were instructive. They aimed to keep us on the straight and narrow path. The Green Man is here to help in this – but to help with what we need, not with what we want; to achieve this, he is quite often fierce. There is a four-part Green Man capital at Woodbury in Devon that is clearly didactic: it points to the consequences of ignoring divine wisdom.

Consciousness and Wholeness

Many green men though look out at us through the foliage without expression, as if just seeing. In this they may be considered the consciousness of nature, the Divine consciousness, which is also to say, our consciousness, for we are all part of the Divine. In this, the Green Man is the witness of the holy drama of life enacted before him.
    The importance of the Green Man is demonstrated by the fact that he is depicted in one church or another observing all the central events enacted by Christ and that he occurs in every conceivable location in the church. Yet the Green Man is never part of the action. He is confined to observation; to consciousness rather than action. The Green Man, consciousness in Nature, acts as the eyes of God, and of course he is us – for we are the eyes of God in creation.
    The Green Man has an active, masculine role in the world but springs from a concept of the divine being feminine. Both aspects are within us. We have the task of reunifying the masculine and feminine, making that which has been separated whole again - the Sacred Marriage of the Mysteries. Following, in fact, the meaning of the word "religion", the root of which is the Latin re-ligare, to rebind that which has been separated.
    The Green Man has a wonderful breadth, reaching the most profound meaning but also touching upon lightness and fun; the fun of finding new green men in almost any church you explore, and the fun of enjoying the sparkling gaiety of the Spring festivals.

1 Michael Dames, The Avebury Cycle, London, 1977.

Clive Hicks was born in South Africa. He is an architect and photographer: these two specialities have united in his interest in the architecture of the medieval churches. These introduced him to the Green Man and he collaborated with William Anderson on Green Man – The Archetype of Our Oneness with the Earth. He is also the author of, The Green Man – A Field Guide.