Herb myths, legends & superstitions from global folklore

Borage

In classical times, the writer Pliny referred to borage as Euphrosynum (for the goddess of joy and mirth, Euphrosyne) because he believed it had the power of making men happy. 

Historically, the name borage was thought to be a mispronunciation of the word courage. This link began because ancient people believed drinking the herb gave them "heart" or bravery, using the Latin phrase cor-ago, which literally means "I bring heart," to describe this effect. 

Over many years, the word "courage" was said or spelled wrong so often that it eventually turned into the word "borage". To celebrate this history of making people feel happy and brave, the plant was associated with the old Latin rhyme, "Ego Borago gaudia semper ago," which translates to "I, borage, always bring joy”.

Other early herbalists and even the famed English philosopher and statesman, Francis Bacon, consistently praised the plant for this joyful effect and it was often used in a popular beverage known as a cool tankard, which was made using young borage shoots and blossoms mixed with wine, water, lemon and sugar. 

Similar uses can be found in flower folklore which naturally crosses over heavily with herbs.

Mugwort

Made extra famous by the stories of a child wizard with glasses, mugwort was often traditionally referred to as the Mother of Herbs and took its botanical name, Artemisia, from either the goddess Artemis or Queen Artemisia, the wife (and sister) of King Mausolus (an ancient ruler of what is now Turkey). 

Ancient traditions said that someone who carried the herb on them would never feel fatigue and would remain safe from poisonous medicines, wild beasts and even the heat of the sun.

In many European countries, the plant was another one closely associated with St. John the Baptist and was frequently called the Herb of St. John. On Midsummer Eve, or the Vigil of St. John, it was common practice to wear belts made of Mugwort, known as St. John's Belts, while dancing around bonfires. It was believed that looking through the Mugwort at the flames would protect the eyes and ensure good health for the coming year. 

A prominent Russian legend described a young girl who fell into a pit of snakes and was kept alive by licking a luminous stone. Upon her release, the serpent queen granted her the ability to understand the language and medicinal uses of all plants, provided she never named the Mugwort.

When a stranger later asked her the name of a plant growing by the path, she accidentally replied "Tchorno-bil" (Mugwort), and her mystical knowledge immediately vanished. This led to the Russian name Zabytko, or the Herb of Forgetfulness.

In Scottish folklore, a legend from the Firth of Clyde told of a mermaid who, upon seeing the funeral of a young girl who had succumbed to consumption (tuberculosis), was said to have expressed her pity through a rhyme.

She lamented that so many beautiful maidens died because they did not know to drink nettles in March and eat muggins, the local name for mugwort, in May. This practice was believed to be a powerful preventative against various ailments, including poison, fire and general exhaustion.

Nettle

Nettle was frequently associated with protection from the elements and evil spirits. In German mythology, the plant was consecrated to Thor, the god of thunder. This association led to a practice in the Tyrol where people threw nettles onto a fire during thunderstorms to avert danger and protect their homes from lightning. In Germany, it was also believed that gathering nettles before sunrise would drive away evil spirits from cattle.

A famous historical legend claimed that the Roman Nettle was introduced to England by Caesar's soldiers. Suffering from the cold, raw fogs and having inadequate clothing, the soldiers would pluck nettles and scour their numb limbs to make them burn for warmth. 

In the realm of charms, carrying a combination of nettle and milfoil was sometimes used as a talisman to ward off dark forces. For those accidentally stung, a widespread English folk remedy involved rubbing the area with a dock leaf while repeating this rhyme 3 times to drive the nettle’s sting out: “Out nettle, in dock: dock shall have new smock”. (We didn’t use a rhyme but I certainly remember using dock leaves when I got stung as a child!).

Literature and social customs also referenced this plant. In Shakespeare's works, the nettles in Ophelia's garland are said to represent being stung to the quick. In Wales, nettles were sometimes used as a form of satire, planted on the graves of old bachelors and old maids.

Parsley 

The lore of parsley is heavily marked by its associations with death and ancient Greek tradition. It was recorded that Hercules chose parsley to make his very first garlands and it was used to wreathe the conquerors at the Nemean and Isthmian games in memory of Archemorus. Archemorus, the infant son of King Lycurgus, was famously killed by a serpent after being laid down upon a sprig of this herb.

Because the Greeks used parsley to decorate graves and throw upon the dead, the plant became an omen of bad luck. A common proverb described those near death as being in need of parsley and a Greek military force was reportedly thrown into a panic simply by encountering mules who were carrying the herb.

The plant's distinctive fringed and ragged appearance was explained by a Devonshire (England) folktale. A man once destroyed a garden of tulips that pixies used as cradles for their children, planting parsley in their place. In revenge, the tiny creatures hacked at the roots of the crop every night, causing the leaves to grow ragged as we see them today.

Also in Devonshire and South Hampshire, it was considered a grave offense against the parsley bed's guardian spirit to transplant the herb which was said to result in the certain death or misfortune of the offender or a family member within a year. To ensure that the herb grew in abundance, it was traditionally sown in Suffolk on Good Friday. 

Bruising parsley in the hands was thought to cause glass vessels to snap and break when handled, while dreaming of cutting the herb signaled a love going wrong but eating it apparently meant good news was coming.

Rosemary

The name Rosemary was derived from the Latin ros marinum, which signifies sea dew, reflecting the plant's affinity for the water. Historically, the plant was regarded as a stimulant for the brain and memory. 

In ancient Rome, it was used for a variety of ceremonial purposes, including crowning guests at banquets, purifying flocks with its smoke and decorating household gods.

In northern England, rosemary was associated with funerals, where sprigs were distributed and eventually cast onto the coffin in the grave. Beyond its use in mourning, the plant was also highly valued for weddings, where it served as a symbol of the fidelity of lovers. 

It was used in bridal wreaths, such as the one worn by Anne of Cleves for her marriage to Henry VIII. A common rustic superstition suggested that rosemary only grows well in a garden where the “mistress is the master”.

In a bizarre legend from Italy, a childless queen who, after envying the many offshoots of a vigorous rosemary bush, gave birth to a bush of her own which she kept in a pot and fed with milk. 

Her nephew, the King of Spain, eventually stole the plant and discovered that whenever he played his flute, a beautiful princess, Rosa Marina, would emerge from within the foliage. 

He fell deeply in love with this mysterious visitor, but was forced to leave her in the care of a gardener while he went to war. During his absence, the king's jealous sisters played the flute to summon the princess and then struck her, causing her to vanish and the rosemary plant to begin drooping toward death. 

The gardener was able to save the plant and the princess after overhearing two dragons reveal that only their blood could restore the bush. He slew the dragons, applied their blood to the roots to break the spell and the king subsequently returned to marry the restored Princess Rosa Marina.

Rosemary was also used in recipes to preserve youth, often mixed with rue, sage, marjoram, fennel and quince.

St John’s Wort

Although many herbs are associated with St John the Baptist, this one was explicitly named for him because its distinctive red spots were said to appear on the anniversary of his beheading, August 29th and its ruddy sap was traditionally interpreted as a sign of the martyred saint's blood.

Because it blooms most vibrantly during the summer solstice and St. John was described in scripture as a light to those in darkness, it also earned the title Sol Terrestris, or the terrestrial sun.

It was highly valued as a powerful preservative against supernatural threats and known as Fuga Daemonum, or Devil's Flight, for its reputed ability to frighten away ghosts and devils. On the anniversary of the saint's birth, June 24th, boughs were hung in windows and over doors to protect households from ghosts, demons, and thunderbolts. 

St. John's Wort was also prominent in fairy lore and Gaelic traditions in the Isle of Man, where tradition warned that accidentally treading upon the herb after sunset would cause a fairy horse to rise from its root. This horse was said to carry the rider on a wild journey all through the night before sinking back into the earth at dawn, often leaving the person far from home. 

Tyrolese mountaineers were known to place the herb in their shoes, believing that so long as it remained there, they could walk or climb without fatigue.

In Sweden, maidens gathered a bouquet of nine different flowers, including St. John's Wort, from nine different places on Midsummer Eve and placed it under their pillows to see their future spouses in their sleep. In Lower Saxony, girls hung sprigs of the plant on their walls; if the sprig remained fresh the next morning, it was taken as a certain sign that they would be married within the year.

Medicinally, the plant was called Tutsan, a name derived from the French Toute-saine, meaning all-heal, due to its supposed power to cure all manner of wounds. In Sicily, the flowers were gathered and steeped in olive oil to create an infallible balm for injuries.

Thyme

Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, thyme was considered a sacred plant and often grown in gardens. It covered Mount Hymettus and gave a famous aromatic flavour to the honey produced there. 

Because of this association, the Greeks used the herb to denote the graceful elegance of the Attic style (a refined way of writing or speaking associated with ancient Athens, which was located in the region of Attica), and it was considered a high compliment to say that a writer smelled of thyme.

In the age of chivalry (the medieval period in Europe when knights followed a specific code of honour, bravery and courtly manner), ladies embroidered a bee hovering over a spray of thyme on the scarfs they presented to knights. This specific design was meant to symbolise the union of a gentle, friendly nature (the bee) with a brave and industrious spirit (the thyme). In the traditional language of flowers, thyme was identified as a symbol of spontaneous emotion.

Thyme also held a significant place in the historical folklore of supernatural beings, a connection frequently highlighted in English literary tradition. 

William Shakespeare identified the plant as a particular favourite of the fairy king, Oberon. It was believed that Oberon's musical hounds would forsake even the richest blossoms of a garden in order to hunt for golden dew within flowery tufts of wild thyme. 

In a different spiritual context, the plant was valued for its perceived purifying properties as documented by the sixteenth-century poet Edmund Spenser. He recorded folklore which claimed that witches were required to perform a yearly penance to atone for their crimes, during which they were said to bathe in water purified with thyme and oregano. 

The plant was also a common ingredient in early medicine and herbalists frequently recommended it for treating diseases related to the spleen or for countering low moods.