viii:viii: Foraging through Folklore Foraging through Folklore
Mortality, myth, and Meadowsweet Ella Leith
In the throes of battle, Cú Chulainn, the warrior-hero of Irish mythology, would go into a frenzy— his 'warp-spasm', or ríastrad. Friend and foe alike would flee in terror as he shook all over, sinews the size of a baby's head bulging all over his body: he sucked one eye so deep into his head that a wild crane couldn't probe it...out of the depths of his skull; the other eye fell out along his cheek...his cheek peeled back from his jaws until the gullet appeared, his lungs and his liver flapped in his mouth and throat, his lower jaw struck the upper a lionkilling blow, and fiery flakes large as a ram's fleece reached his mouth from his throat...[I]f a royal apple tree...were shaken above him...each [falling apple] would be spiked on a bristle of his hair as it stood up on his scalp with rage (The Táin, trans. Kinsella, 1969:150–153). The only thing that would calm him was to bathe in a cauldron of Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria). For this reason, one of the herb's bynames is Cú Chulainn's Belt (Kenicer, 2020:42). Apparently, the soothing fragrance of this herb is a gift of the Irish summer goddess, Áine, who wore it in her
crown and gave it its sweet scent (Anon., 1918:159; Fitzgerald, 1880:190). Perhaps she also granted its powers to calm frenzies— and to create life. Meadowsweet was the main flower used by the Welsh magician Gwydion to fashion a wife for his nephew, Lleu, who had been cursed never to marry a human woman. They named the flower-wife Blodeuwedd, or Flower-faced, and called her 'the loveliest and most beautiful girl anyone had seen' (The Mabinogion, trans. Gantz, 1976:111). When she opened her eyes, 'the sky on a summer's day was not bluer. She smiled, and the sunlight on a fresh, clear pond did not sparkle more' (Caldicott, 1992:57). Some gnostic religions hold the belief that 'the flowers have their souls, perceptible in their perfume' (Drower, 1933:377). However, other folk beliefs claim that the scent is the soul of a trapped human. Writing to the Folklore journal in 1960, Chester noted 'an old tradition...[that] says that the souls of the dead dwell in flowers with heavy scents, and consequently such flowers are dangerous to the living' (Tongue et al., 1960:206). Certainly, many flowers with strong fragrances are associated with death, funerals, and bad 35
