It’s been a while since I did any of my Druidry reading, and
told you of any herbs. So today I’ll
tell you a little of Mugwort…and then tomorrow I’ll tell you of Meadowsweet. How’s that sound?
Mugwort (Artemsia
Vulgaris)
Jekka tells us this is a hardy herbaceous perennial growing
freely both by the road and by small water courses. It can grow up to 4 ft and spread 18”
(apologies, despite being born in 1971, I do not appear to have gone metric at
all…). It has tiny reddish brown (and sometimes yellow) flowers
that appear in summer. Its leaves are
dark green serrated and appear covered in down, as are all the leaves of plants
in the Artemesia family (including Vulgaris’s close relative Absinthium, aka
Wormwood, of the famous scary absinthe drink!; and the brilliantly named Dracunculus,
which is French Tarragon, commonly cooked with today).[1]
Historical Usage
If they wad drink nettles in March
And eat muggins in May
Sae many braw maidens
Wadna gang to clay.
This is a poem quoted by folkorists of the mermaid of Clyde’s pronouncement on seeing the funeral of a young
girl. Gabrielle Hatfield, author of Memory, Wisdom and Domestic Plant Medicine [2],
explains the poem, and then goes on to tell of a historical phenomenon I’ve read
of often when researching herbal remedies for these posts and for my own
interest:
The ‘muggins’ mentioned by the
mermaid was a plant well known for its use in treating ‘women’s
afflictions’. Known also as Mugwort,
this plant appears in proverbs in Scotland
and Wales. Carmichael
quotes:
Wad ye let the bonny may die in your hand
And the mugwort flowering I’ the land?[3]
When I began studying plant
medicines in use within living memory in Britain, mugwort did not appear at
first. Then a letter from a man brought
up in Essex gave this information, recalled from
the 1920s: ‘In our garden my father grew a clump of “Mugwort” and I think my
mother used this for irregularities peculiar to women.’ He added that he particularly remembered the
mugwort because of his father’s strict instructions not to pull it up! Mugwort grows in the wild, but presumably in
this case the family wished to be assured of a constant supply when it was
needed.
Originally, practical
instructions were part of the common knowledge of plant remedies, and would
have been passed down orally from one generation of plant users to the
next. Once copied into the literature of
the day, they became altered in various ways.
Scorn was poured on them in some quarters, and still is today[4]. In other instances, they were altered and
exaggerated, and tied in with astrology and all kinds of other beliefs. Culpeper, for example, embroidered this
aspect of plant medicine.[5]
[…] In any case his readers represented
the literate minority, and the illiterate majority doubtless continued to use
plant remedies in the same way their families had done for generations. This is an example of how the written version
of plant medicine diverged increasingly from empirical plant usage.
As Thompson[6],
Ewart Evans[7]
and many others have testified, oral testimony is often remarkably
accurate. However, once information is
committed to print, any errors that creep in tend to become perpetuated, and an
[…] example of this has already been mentioned [earlier in her book] where the
oral version of a remedy used for horses had survived accurately whereas the
printed version in a veterinary book was totally wrong. This is the kind of incorrect evidence which
has often, quite unjustly, brought traditional remedies into disrepute.[8]
Whilst that was a monster long quote there, I felt it needed
leaving in its entirety, as I’m not only telling you about individual herbs in
these posts, but a little about the history of their usage, and their recorded usage. It’s as well you’re aware that there have
been, and continue to be, sometimes serious discrepancies between oral and
written record concerning dosages, usages etc.
(In another post later, on Comfrey, I’ll let Ms Hatfield tell you all
about the dangers of incomplete
herbal information, too…and why you should always check multiple reliable sources
before attempting any herbalism on yourself at home.)
Culpeper, impugned so thoroughly there by Ms Hatfield, has
this to say on Mugwort, and we’ll start off where she complains:
This is a herb of Venus, and
therefore maintains the parts of the body she rules, and remedies the diseases
of the parts that are under her signs, Taurus and Libra. Mugwort is used with good success, among
other herbs, in a hot decoction, for women to sit over, to provoke the menses,
help delivery, and expel the afterbirth; also, for the obstructions and
inflammations of the womb. It breaks the
stone, and causes one to make water when it is stopped.[9]
He also describes it used as a pessary, and the roots made
into an ointment with ‘hogs lard’ to take away ‘wens and kernals about the neck
and throat’. He tells of it also being
used as a remedy for an overdose of opium (not sure quite how that would work),
and ‘three drachms of the powder in dried leaves, taken in wine’ as a ‘sure and
speedy cure of the sciatica’[10]. So he felt it something of a wonder drug;
then again, in those days, most herbs were used for multiple functions.
It wasn’t only used medicinally. In the extremely informative The Medieval
Garden, the author describes a house called Bayleaf, in England, circa
1500, a yeoman’s residence, from various papers left behind. Mugwort was in use as a vermicidal by the
mistress of the house. When the floors
were regularly swept out (and the results composted), the new herbs strewn down
would always include both mugwort leaves and its relative wormwood to discourage rats
and mice, as well as mints and fennel for their fresh smells[11].
Herbalism Today
Mugwort is still in use within British Herbalism today. It’s known as ‘the Mother of Herbs’ because it’s
still used for multiple purposes. “Best
described as a tonic with particular application to the digestive and nervous
systems, it reduces nervous indigestion, nausea, and irritability. As a womb tonic it is useful to regulate
periods and reduce period pain and PMS”[12]
– so little change in that aspect of its traditional usage. The parts used are the flowers and leaves,
primarily. Its usually taken as an
infusion, dosed at ¼ - ½ tsp 3 times a day.
And strictly avoided in pregnancy, for the obvious reasons above: it
interacts too strongly with the womb.
Nowadays, a common usage of mugwort is in Japanese
Herbalism, where it is used to make Moxas,
a cure for rheumatism[13];
and also used in acupuncture, a resinous fluff lump (!- Ok my descriptive
powers are limited there) lit gently to smoulder and suspended on one of the
needles, so as to heat the needle softly with the additional stimulation simply
of heat, to that point where the needle is placed. (I once had a funny moxa accident during acupuncture; it just fell off, as it was
slightly too big for the needle…and yes, I got a burn from it. In the perfect shape of a triangle on my
stomach. It didn’t hurt too badly, and
for years, in a mischievous and silly way, I would show off the scar and tell
people I got it when abducted by aliens.
Eventually, due to regular and copious lathering with lavender oil the
scar faded clean away, so I have been forced to stop telling that enjoyably
untrue anecdote. Tsk.)
Magickal Uses,
traditional and current
As suggested by its Latin name, sacred to the Goddess
Artemis (goddess of the moon and childbirth).
Its folk remedy characteristics as an ‘easer of the troubles of women’
are reflected here too: periods, menopause, childbirth – but more widely, as a
general protector, aimed mostly at women but also available to men.
Used primarily in magickal terms as a cleansing herb, in the
same way as Agrimony (see previous post).
Using both herbs in an incense thoroughly cleanses a room, creating an
atmosphere conducive to meditation and/or divination. It’s supposed to aid clairvoyance, and it’s
suggested that an infusion be drunk before scrying “to widen perception”[14].
Alternatively, rubbing the infusion over
a mirror or other glass surface[15]
to be looked into (go get your crystal ball!) will do a similar job. Sleeping
with an herb pillow of Mugwort is “an encouragement to Future Seeking Dreams”[16].
Protectively, it was hung over doorways to houses, as a folk charm against
lightning, misfortune and thievery; but under the doorway to stop unwanted visitors[17].
Cassandra Eason, prolific modern writer on all things odd
and mostly interesting to Blackberry Juniper, adds these as variations on
traditional magickal uses for mugwort: it’s a help to shape-shifting (in the
vision quest, astral sort of way) and is protective of all travellers,
especially from predators, human or otherwise[18].
The leaves are supposed to be gathered on Midsummer’s Eve;
the roots during autumn. The flowers, though so familiar and gorgeous looking, are not often used magickally nowadays.
***
And there we leave it
for today, people! Remember, I’m not a
doctor, so don’t go dosing yourself based on anything I’ve said! Just enjoy the info, and if interested, do
more reading!
It’s a fascinating
subject, herbalism in history and in practice, both medical and magickal –
which I stress, are 2 completely different emphases, and Medical Herbalists
will get most shirty if you bundle
them in with neo-pagan practitioners like myself, so don’t go doing that!!
Till tomorrow, and
the gentle Meadowsweet…
[1]
Jekka McVicar, New Book of Herbs (London: Dorling
Kindersley, 2004), p.136.
[2] A
Professor of the University of East Anglia for many years, and also an Honorary
Research Fellow at Kew
Gardens, to list her
credentials!
[3]
Alexander Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica,
6 vols, vol V, p.125 (Edinburgh:1970-71).
[4]
From Hatfield’s footnotes: ‘Dr Speller claims there is little in these bizarre
and entertaining “cures” that can have any basis in therapeutics’, letter in
Margaret Baker, Folklore and Customs of
Rural England, 1974, p.169. Another
author goes so far as to state: “In general, native plant remedies are of
little value”, D.J. Guthrie, Transactions
of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh, 1961, vol 39, part 2.’
[5] Nicholas
Culpeper, The English Physician (London: 1652).
[6]
E.P. Thompson, Customs in Common
(Suffolk: Merlin Press, 1981).
[7]
George Ewart Evans, Where Birds Wag All
(London: Faber and Faber, 1970), p.18.
[8]
Gabrielle Hatfield, Memory, Wisdom and
Healing: The History of Domestic Plant Medicine (Gloucestershire: Sutton
Publishing, 1999), pp.79-80.
[9] Nicholas
Culpeper, Culpeper’s Complete Herbal
(London:
Arcturus Publishing, 2009), p.253.
[10]
Ibid.
[11]
Sylvia Lansdberg, The Medieval Garden
(London: The British Museum Press, 1998), p.116.
[12]
Sue Hawkey, Herbalism for Health and
Wellbeing (Bath:
Southwater, 2000), p.32.
[13] Jekka
McVicar, New Book of Herbs (London: Dorling
Kindersley, 2004), p.136.
[14] Miscellany of Superstition, by Harold
Pryce-Thorn, pp.76, Mondham and Son, London:
1902.
[15] Gwers of the Ovate Grade, 6, p.7,
published by the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD), Lewes: 2011.
[16] Miscellany of Superstition, by Harold
Pryce-Thorn, pp.78-79, Mondham and Son, London:
1902.
[17] Gwers of the Ovate Grade, 6, p.6,
published by the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD), Lewes: 2011.
[18]
Cassandra Eason, The Modern Day Druidess:
A Practical Guide to Nature Spirituality (London: Piatkus, 2003), p.134.
