This morning brought June’s New Moon.
Wednesday brings the Midsummer Solstice here in the Northern Hemisphere, the longest day. It is light until midnight where I am, dawn comes in the wee hours. Everyone is distracted with it, and the recent heat. It has been a scorching June so far, weeks of unblemished blue skies and temperatures which didn’t cool even in the night, shallow as it now is. Trying to write in it is like trying to catch a swallow on the wing. These days are for daydreams and daisy chains, paddling in cool water and seeking the dappled shade. Everyone has been tired and irritable, and in weird moods that don’t at all match the sunshine. We are all in need of some deep green grounding and sleep, deep and dark. The weather broke here on Friday night, thunderstorms rolled through in the brief darkness of Saturday morning and it was raining at dawn. A sweet-smelling relief for those of us with an Irish disposition. The light continues to climb though and will do so until Wednesday before we begin the slow descent towards Winter.
The Sumer Solstice is still celebrated with bonfires here in Ireland, at least in the western counties, as St. John’s Eve on 23rd June. This was the night believed best for gathering herbs for healing or charms, as their power was believed to be at its height. The king of these herbs is the Foxglove. And so today for Junes’ Writing Down the Weeds I bring you its lore and a short story inspired by its names and magics.
Foxglove
Irish: Lus Mór
Latin: Digitalis purpurea
Common names: Dead Man’s Fingers, Dead Men’s Thimbles, Folks-Glove, Cottagers, Fairy Bell, Witch’s Thimble, Fox-and-Leaves, Fairy Weed, Harebell
Folklore:
Foxglove was once widely used throughout Ireland to treat ‘fairy sickness’ or ‘fairy stroke’, particularly in children. Digitalis, the drug present in the foxglove has a powerful effect on the heart and reviving the sick, indeed during both world wars the British were urged to gather foxglove for medicinal use. Digitalis slows the pulse but dramatically raises the blood pressure and so was used for heart trouble, but a concentrated dose causes the heart to spasm and can lead to death. A tenth of a dried leaf is fatal to adults so the practice of dispensing Foxglove to those children thought to be changelings (suffering from fairy sickness) may have been a then acceptable method of infanticide, enabling families to rid themselves of the burden of a sickly child.
The pollen from the flowers contains the same compound but in small doses acts as a hallucinogen and is thought to be one of the active components in the infamous witch’s flying ointment.
More commonly Foxglove was used throughout Ireland in treating skin conditions, colds, and consumption. Digitalis is still widely used in pharmaceuticals, but it is derived from the European variety, which grows widely in southern and eastern regions rather than the flowers native to us.
The name for foxglove in Irish, Lus Mór, translates as Great Herb and was held to be the king of herbs in Ireland, perhaps due to its many uses but more likely due to its links to the Fairy Folk. The second most favoured Gaeilge name for this flower is Méaracán, which translates as Thimble as does the Latin name for it, Digitalis.
The name in English is thought to be a poor translation of Anglo-Saxon words which named it Folk-glove or Folk-bells again referring to fairies. Indeed, even the glove in the name is perhaps an improper translation of the Anglo-Saxon Gliew, meaning a musical instrument with many bells, much like the flower in appearance. Folk-Gliew. However, there is a Norwegian folktale which tells that the fairies gave the flowers to the fox to wear on his feet as gloves so he could prowl the hen-house undisturbed.
In Ireland the flowers were said to bow in respect as the Fairy Host passed by but in more Northern parts, and probably an import from Scotland, the flowers were linked to witches. In England it was believed that should the flowers be brought indoors it would give a witch free access to the house whilst in more Gaelic regions it was said that a witch could use the thimble like bells of the flower on her fingers to ‘stitch in a storm’.
In Irish literature and mythology the foxglove is often used as an adjective for beauty, describing someone as having foxglove lips or cheeks.
In Guernsey and Northern France, the foxglove in flower was a signal to fishermen to go in search of mackerel.
The best time to pick the flowers for medicinal or magical uses was said to be St John’s Eve, 23rd June, as herbs were thought to be at the height of their powers at the Summer Solstice as the sun is at its height.
They are perfectly designed for pollination by the honeybee, the projecting lower part of the flower bell makes a landing platform, and the nectar is tucked high in the bell, so the bee must work his way inside and has pollen rubbed on his back as he does so.
To dream of a foxglove is said to foretell that you are lucky in love.
***
The weather broke with a sudden shock of sweet rain as I began to write the storm infused short story below to accompany today’s lore. I make no claims of weather magic, I left the foxgloves where they grow in my garden, but this tale is full of it. Wind knots and sailors’ superstitions, and a witch amongst it all.
I tend to write at the edges of magical realism, where folklore, superstition, and intuitive knowing seep into the everyday and magic is found in the quotidian. It is a particularly Irish view of the world, where the mythic rests easy with the mundane and someone always knows someone with at least a touch of the sight. Today’s tale is in that vein. I’ve had this story brewing on my desk for many long years, the image below with the spool was taken over a decade ago, fragments, mere sentences of this tale written alongside it. And you’ve met her before here, in Marchs’ full moon flash fiction; Crow. I think it might become part of a much larger piece of work but she’s coming through in this space for now.
As always if you enjoy it, please let me know. Xx
Witch’s Thimble
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