The Witches Briar - Folklore of the Dog Rose
Photo by David Roberts
“...ever since the first tiny bloom had opened. It had called her to come and gaze on a mystery.
…The singing she heard that had nothing to do with her own ears. The rose of the world was breathing out smell.”
~ Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God
It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? All the back and forth we humans do, moving through the world, not knowing what’s just beneath the surface, hidden below, seeped in our own blood even. It lays dormant like a seed, sometimes for years, just waiting for the right conditions. Waiting to break through the surface and emerge. All that potential in suspended animation, to be made manifest in this, the mundane. Come fellow seeker, enter into the garden wild where mystery and wonder echo that which can be found in the wild landscape, a microcosm of it, if you will. Here the magic shimmers in the air, is held in the blooming flowers and carried in their scent, blowing gently on the breeze or perhaps heard in the singing of the birds and the buzzing of bees.
I’ve been in the garden a lot of late. The weather has been warm, and I love nothing more than to set up office down at the bottom of my garden. There I’m hedged in between the mature linden, cherry and elder trees, screened by the ivy and the flowering currant. It’s like my own secret garden, one that is easily passed by those too engrossed in the everyday to notice the quietly busy life that thrums through this space, a wild space despite the human hands that shaped it.
I’ve also been working in the garden a lot too, it’s the season for growing things, and so I’ve been planting out my tomatoes (or tomatis, I hear in my father’s patois), tending my herbs, cabbages and of course, my poison garden. I think growing things and nature are in my blood. My father’s father was a farmer in Jamaica before coming to Britain, and his father before him too. My mother’s mother was an avid gardener, her garden a wondrous thing to behold, bedecked in flowers of all colours that were like jewels to my young eyes. Nature connects us to those who came before, as do the stories of the land and nature. As I sit in my garden and close my eyes, I can smell the scent of the wild roses that are always first to bloom, and so I shall share my favourite bits of lore and more, of the most glorious dog rose.
All roses are beautiful, but only a few are native to Britain, one of which is the dog rose (Rosa Canina). There are in fact several different species of wild rose, and if you struggle to identify the dog rose among them, then perhaps this old country riddle hailing from the mediaeval period might be of use:
“On a summer’s day, in sultry weather,
Five Brethren were born together.
Two had beards and two had none
And the other had but half of one.”
The brethren in question are indeed the sepals (the green parts that enclose the flower while it is in bud and are typically leaf-like) and the rhyme gives pointers on what they should look like. So on the dog rose, there should be five, two of which should have fine hairs on them and two without, while the fifth has hairs on one side but not on the other. Rhymes such as this are just one way in which knowledge of the land is encoded and passed down through the generations.
The dog rose also has plenty of folklore attached to it, you might even be familiar with one, for Sleeping Beauty was indeed inspired by a very similar story from the well known Grimm brothers (who themselves were collectors of folk stories), Briar Rose. This story might be interpreted to represent the struggles of life but also the love, grace, beauty and compassion that can also be found in life. As with all roses, it is a symbol of love, and within the Christian mythos, it is associated with purity, love and marriage. However, as with most folklore, there is also a darker side as dreaming of the dog rose was considered a death omen, either for the dreamer or someone close to them, particularly one who they cared about.
Another name for the dog rose is briar, or witches briar. The term briar simply means a thorny mass, usually of roses, and so it makes sense this is also applied to the dog rose. The name ‘witches briar’ is Irish in origin and speaks of the magic of the flower for it was believed to bring love, luck and fortune as well as protection. The theme of protection is continued in the lore that if you should happen to find yourself being chased by a vampire, then throwing a handful of petals behind you will thwart the vampire as it will be compelled to stop the chase and count them. This is one facet of lore I find so fascinating and that speaks of the human nature of stories, for there are duppy stories from Jamaica that also involve throwing things to be counted when being pursued by duppies (you can read all about them here). Also, to stop a vampire rising from its grave, a dog rose should be planted there.
The dog rose is also associated with good health, and was once believed to cure the bite of a rabid dog and the hips (the red fruit that appears after flowering) were said to protect against baneful magic and witchcraft. Of course, the hips are edible and a health promoting fruit, rich in vitamin C, so it could be that such beliefs developed in the good health of those who ate the fruits. But there is also a little mischief to be found in the fruits, for how many of us made itching powder with the hairy little seeds as children!
The dog rose, then, is so many things, protective and health promoting, reflecting the beauty of life and what comes with maturation, but also the struggles that must be overcome along the way, that one could perhaps argue, makes the journey one worth taking!
So there you have it, a little bit of folklore of the most beautifully scented dog rose! But before you depart for your own wild spaces, let me share with you a parting gift, one of my favourite recipes that uses rosehips. It’s a little early for it yet, but save it for later on in the summer after the beauty and scent of the flowers is but a dream-like memory!
Rosehip, Haw & Crabapple Jelly
(From my book, Reclaiming Food)
I love this recipe, because not only is it delicious, but the act of gathering the ingredients from your local landscape is a great way of getting to know the land where you live, the fact you can go out for a lovely walk and collect the ingredients at the same time! It should also go without saying that you need to make sure you are certain you can safely identify wild foods. There are some great videos, books and other resources that are fabulous, but also look for local groups and local classes for invaluable learning in real life. For this recipe, you will need:
1kg rowan berries & rosehips combined
500g crab apples peeled and roughly chopped
Sugar
To begin, remove the rowan berries and rosehips from their stalks and place in a pan with the peeled and chopped crab apples and add enough water so that the fruit is just covered. Bring to the boil before turning the heat down and allowing to simmer, stirring the fruit occasionally and using the back of the spoon to push the fruit against the side of the pan so that as much juice as possible is extracted.
Strain using a sieve or preferably a clean cotton or muslin cloth, squeezing as much of the juice as possible from the mixture. You will need to measure how much juice you have, as this will determine how much sugar you will need to use. For every litre of juice, you will need to add 750g of sugar. Place into a clean pan and stir over a gentle heat until the sugar has fully dissolved before boiling quickly. You can use a kitchen thermometer to determine when the mixture is ready, but I don’t have one, so what I do is place a small plate in the fridge until it is cold and then drip a little of the mixture onto it. If, after a few seconds, it doesn’t run and the top crinkles when prodded, your mixture is ready. Remove the mixture from the heat and spoon into hot sterilised jars. You can leave for a few weeks to mature and will keep for up to a year if stored correctly.
References and further reading
Blamey, M. & Grey-Wilson, C. (1989). Flora of Britain and Northern Europe. Hodder & Stoughton.
Vedel, H. & Lange, J. (1960). Trees and bushes. Metheun, London.
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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