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 luck. The blossoms of Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) are a famous death omen when brought indoors. In Welsh border counties 'the same superstition is often applied to meadowsweet' (Tongue et al., 1960:205). White Lilac (Syringa vulgaris alba) carries the same stigma in the Midlands, where 'florists have been known to advise their customers against it, if they know that it is intended as a gift for someone who is ill, either at home or in hospital' (ibid.). Lilies (Lilium spp.) and Snowdrops (Galanthus spp.) have become so firmly associated with funerals and graveyards that many people are reluctant to have them in the house (ibid.). Using flowers and herbs in funereal rites has a long history (Edwards, 2010), often attributed to their being 'symbols of resurrection and immortality' (Walter, 1996:106)— although it's as likely that their historical function 'was that of hiding the odour of decay' (ibid.). Other unlucky flowers include Bean blossom (Vicia spp.), which has, according to Chester, 'been associated with death since at least as far back as Roman times', and retained 'a bad reputation among miners, especially in the colliery districts of the north and the midlands...[as] accidents in the pit occur more frequently when they are in bloom than at any other time' (Tongue et al., 1960:205-6). In Scottish tradition, Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea) should never be brought inside a house or onboard a ship. In Oxfordshire, the same was thought true of Poppies (Papaver spp.) (ibid.). Violets (Viola spp.), Primroses (Primula polyantha), and Snowdrops 'are unlucky to poultry or young stock if they are brought home in small quantities. Less than a dozen primroses in a bunch will cause the hens to lay or hatch only as many eggs as there are blossoms' (ibid.).

Why would plants that are so pleasant to look at and smell be considered so dangerous? Perhaps it is their very attractiveness that is risky, with the power of their scent capable of hoodwinking you— or worse. Murray-Aynsley (1898:183) records a Lincolnshire belief that 'a man having possession of a flask containing a strong perfume can use it to obtain power over a girl'. The power of scent was thought so hypnotic that it 'paralyses the will of the person breathing it...[and] when once the girl is under its influence she is helpless' (ibid.). Young women were advised 'not to permit the near approach of one of the other sex with a bottle of eau de Cologne or of other scent lest she should inhale the vapour' (ibid.).

These roles are, perhaps, reversed in the story of Blodeuwedd, Lleu's flower-faced bride. Her head turned by a visiting lord, Gronw, Blodeuwedd contrives to get rid of her doting husband. But Lleu is notoriously difficult to kill:

'It will not be easy for anyone to strike me, since he would have to spend a year working on the spear, and no work may be done except when people are at Mass on Sundays...I cannot be killed indoors or out of doors, on horse or on foot' (Gantz, 1976:113).

Feigning concern that he'll forget the particulars, Blodeuwedd persuades her husband to tell her how he can be killed:

'I will tell you. Make a bath for me on a river bank, with a good snugly thatched roof over the tub; then bring a buck goat and put it alongside the tub. If I put one foot on the goat's back and the other on the edge of the tub, whoever struck me then would bring about my death.' 'Well, I thank God for that,' she said, 'for this can easily be avoided' (ibid.).

A year later, Blodeuwedd manages to set the scene exactly thus, and Lleu doesn't appear the slightest bit suspicious of his wife— even as he stands with one foot on a bathtub and one on a goat —until the moment he is hit by Gronw's Sunday-forged spear.

Perhaps the moral of this tale is that, if you can't find a human to marry, you're better off alone than with a spouse built of Meadowsweet.

References

Anonymous. (1918) 'Sanctuaries and Fairies in West Ireland' in Folklore, 29:2, 159-160

Caldecott, M. (1992) Women in Celtic myth. Destiny Books: Rochester, Vt. Available at gutenberg.org

Drower, E.S. (1933) 'White and Black Magic of the Mandaeans' in Folklore, 44:4, 368-378

Edwards, O. (2010) 'The Skeletons of Shanidar Cave', article in Smithsonian Magazine, 03.2020, www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/

Fitzgerald, D. (1880) 'Popular Tales of Ireland' in Revue Celtique, 4, 171-316

Gantz, J. (trans.) (1976) The Mabinogion. Penguin: Harmondsworth, NY. Available at archive.org

Kenicer, G.J. (2020) Scottish Plant Lore: an illustrated flora. Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh / Berlinn: Edinburgh

Kinsella, T. (trans.) (1969) The Táin. Oxford University Press: Oxford. Available at gutenberg.org

Murray-Aynsley, H.G.M. (1898) 'Correspondence' in Folklore, 9:2, 183-185

Tongue, R. L., Lake Barnett, H.A., Fey, G., Chester, P., Gardner, G.B., Jones, L., and Botley, C. (1960) 'Letters to the Editor' in Folklore, 71:3, 202-207

Walter, T. (1996) 'Funeral Flowers: A Response to Drury' in Folklore, 107:1-2, 106- 107