I'd like to take a moment of your time today, if I may, to discuss my current obsession with the hawthorn and its place in folklore on the island of Ireland.
*note the picture is of the English hawthorn, Crataegus oxyacantha but the Common hawthorn, Crataegus monogyna is the only native species in Ireland.
Known as the whitethorn or May Tree, the landscapes are strewn with white and pink festooned branches at this time of year, mostly in the hedges.
But it's the solitary, gnarled specimens that hold the deepest superstition and outright fear going back generations.
Single whitethorn trees, which appear on faerie forts, also known as ring forts, were thought to be portals to the faerie kingdom. Ring forts were ancient stone enclosures where cattle and humans lived side by side.
And we're not talking here about helpful, delicate-winged tiny ladies. In Irish folklore, faeries, or aos sidhe, are to be highly respected or you never know what fate will befall you.
As recently as 1999, the M18 motorway at Latoon, Co. Clare was diverted to avoid digging up a mystical whitethorn tree after folklorist Eddie Lenihan warned of dire consequences of disturbing the sacred tree.
What does it say about a culture when developers take the word of a seanchaithe and decide to leave well alone, diverting the road around the Hawthorn instead of destroying it. No lawyers needed.
Now if I've still got your attention and you haven't drifted of with the divisive smell of the hawthorn flowers, there is a theory which may explain this deep-rooted cultural fear of the whitethorn tree. It's known as the anthrax theory.
Archaeologists have proposed that the ring forts were abandoned en masse by the 12th century due to anthrax outbreaks affecting the cattle. Anthrax is an infectious disease transferred by bacteria and affects mostly the cows but it can spread to humans.
Anthrax spores can live in the soil for centuries, and so when subsequent settlers attempted to use the sites of the forts, they would mysteriously fall ill and die.
Lacking scientific knowledge, the only way the people were able to explain the misfortune that befell anyone who disturbed the faery forts and the whitethorn trees that tended to grow on them was by believing that they'd tapped into the faery realm and had attracted the wrath of the faeries.
And this is where we get to the dyeing with hawthorn. It's not a plant I've used as yet though we have plenty in the hedgerow in the garden. Considering you're not even supposed to cut it to bring it into the house, will I be disturbing the "good people" if I cut off some branches and heat it up in the dyepots?
As I've recently discovered that we have a faery fort in a neighbouring field, I'm beginning to think that I have enough other plants to work with that yield soft yellows and tans. Of course it's a superstitution but... I don't know. Just in case, I don't think I want to attract the wrath of the faeries.
You can find out more by listening to The Blindboy Podcast entitled "Fairy Forts, Anthrax, Dubai Chocolate bars and Seagulls" from April 2025. No association at all other than I enjoy the gentle flow of his ramblings about everything from nature and the rain to folklore and living with autism. Take a listen if you're intrigued.
