Today’s fall festivals grew out of the harvest home traditions of northern Europe. Learn why these celebrations were so significant to those who depended on the harvest for their livelihood.
Harvest Home
Borage: My New Blue Bestie
Every year since I started these herb garden experiments, I’ve made it a point to grow at least one new plant or herb each season. (Granted, as this is only my third year, it hasn’t exactly been a taxing challenge to meet, but still.) Sometimes those new plant friends go on to be perennial favorites, like calendula and comfrey. Other times…well, it turns out not to be such a great fit for one reason or another, and if that plant could talk, I’m sure it would agree that our breakup was mutual.
After something of a disappointing season in 2020 (that’s a whole separate post, but for now let’s just be honest: most things in 2020 were disappointing), I decided to pare things way down this time around. I chose just a couple of new-to-me plants and focused those early-season energies on having my first successful go at indoor seed starts.
I couldn’t tell you anymore precisely why I selected the new herbs I did. I must have been inspired, though, when I landed on what I’d now call the biggest winner of the year: borage.
“Haaaaaaaaave you met Borage?”
I never thought I’d end up as an herb’s wingwoman, but this summer I’ve been hyping up this particular one so often that I might as well adapt the classic How I Met Your Mother catchphrase. Let me introduce you to borage first, then I’ll rave some more about how much I’ve enjoyed growing it this year.
Borago officinalis is a member of the Boraginaceae family, along with well-known ornamentals like heliotrope and forget-me-not. It is easily spotted by gorgeous blue star-shaped flowers with black anthers rising from the center in a conical shape. Those blooms have long been its hallmark; John Gerard, writing in the late 16th century, described them as “gallant blew floures, composed of five leaves apiece; out of the middle of which grow forth blacke threds joined in the top, and pointed like a broch or pyramide: the root is threddy.”
Borage can grow up to three feet tall and two feet wide, and it is an aggressive self-spreader unless contained. Like its cousin comfrey, its stems and leaves wear stiff white hairs, so gardening gloves make interacting with both herbs more comfortable.
Borage is native to the eastern Mediterranean, though it was widely used in Europe – and to a smaller extent in North America – as a medicinal and culinary herb. Read on for more on both of these uses, as well as an important cautionary “word to the wise.”
Borage as Traditional Healer
I first learned of borage during my research into plants that were historically used for medicinal purposes. Over the centuries, borage flowers, leaves and the oil from its seeds have been used to treat a variety of conditions.
The Consistent Mood-Booster
Most consistently, borage has been relied upon for its ability to lift spirits and promote cheerfulness. Ancient writers praised borage for its cheering effect on the disposition, and the plant was believed to bestow courage on warriors preparing for battle. The entry in Gerard’s Herball referred back to Pliny, who called the herb “…Euphrosinum, because it maketh a man merry and joyfull: which thing also the old verse concerning Borage doth testifie: Ego Borago gaudia semper ago. I Borage bring alwaies courage.”
Internal and External Helper
Gerard described his contemporaries using borage in salads to improve mood, comfort sadness and combat depression. Nicholas Culpeper (1653) advised that a syrup made from borage would not only serve those same purposes, but that it would also fight fevers, jaundice and skin afflictions. Its mucilage would aid sore throats and soothe coughs, and if distilled in water, it would heal inflammations of the eye.
Eyes and Ears
Culpeper was not the first to recognize borage as a treatment for eye afflictions. Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th century abbess and skilled herbalist, advised that a patient with diminished vision should regularly crush or break apart borage, apply it to a red silk cloth, and then tie the silk around the eyes overnight. She had a similar remedy for ringing in the ears that required borage juice and a silk of either green or white to be applied repeatedly to the neck and up to the ears.
Modern Uses
Herbal Remedy
Elements of these historical treatments remain in use by modern herbalists even into the 21st century. Easley & Horne promote the depression-fighting properties of borage and recommend a flower essence to create “cheerful courage when facing adversity.” Matthew E. Wood lists a variety of conditions that borage may benefit, ranging from mental/emotional stress to inflamed eyes and from skin irritations to fevers. (Note: both sources caution against the risks associated with this herb, especially its internal usage, so please attend carefully to the warning included below.)
Culinary Delicacy
The borage plant gives off a pleasant, slightly sweet and refreshing aroma, and the flowers, leaves and stalks are edible. Its delicate flowers have a mild flavor that has been likened to cucumbers, which can be candied to decorate cakes or used as a colorful garnish in cocktails, and its young leaves can be used in salads. (Older leaves may cause irritation or discomfort due to those prickly hairs that develop as they mature.) As with medicinal preparations, culinary borage should be used fresh, as much is lost in the drying process.
While these borage preparations certainly look and sound tempting, I must again warn you that not all experts consider it advisable to consume borage. If you choose to enjoy borage for more than its considerable visual appeal, please make note of the considerations below so that you can make informed decisions.
That “Word to the Wise” I Mentioned….
Borage shares more than just a prickly stem with its cousin, comfrey. Both plants, while traditionally consumed to treat internal concerns, are now known to contain a low level of toxicity that can cause damage to internal organs like the liver. Borage also has the potential to interfere with certain medications, and it should not be used if you are pregnant.
This entry (https://www.webmd.com/vitamins/ai/ingredientmono-596/borage) from WebMD outlines some of the concerns about borage that you may wish to consider, but as always, you should consult a physician or trained herbalist before consuming. (As a friendly reminder, as stated here, I am neither a physician nor a trained herbalist, and all of the information provided in any of my articles is for informational purposes only!)
And Now, A Bit of Fangirling
Enough with the academic stuff; as interesting as all of that is, none of it is why I enjoyed growing and getting to know borage this year. It’s also not why I’d recommend that you, dear friend and reader, consider including it in your future garden plans. So now let’s talk about the actual important stuff.
Easy Indoor Start
Confession time: prior to this year, I never had success starting plants from seed. I’d given it halfhearted tries in the past, but I knew my setup wasn’t quite right, so the sprouts I did get were few and weak. Mostly I ended up sowing the seeds outdoors again and crossing my fingers for a better outcome there (great job little seedlings, you thrived despite my goof-ups).
This spring, I made a bunch of needed upgrades and ended up with a proper seed-starting configuration. Still, given my past struggles, I was skeptically hesitant to get my hopes up. Borage came through for me with a massive self-esteem boost when within a few days, it became the first of my seeds to germinate! And wow, every single cell sprouted.
They were also the fastest-growing of my lot for most of the spring; I had so much fun marveling at how much they’d grown every time I’d check in on them. I know how cheesy this sounds, but watching those borage seedlings take off totally renewed my enthusiasm and got me invested in making sure my other herbs and flowers made it, too.
Relaxed Outside Grower
My borage plants were champions when it came time for transplanting them outdoors, too. I’d started more seeds than I’d estimated would survive, to ensure I had at least a couple viable plants. By the time late May rolled around and frost season was finally over here, it turned out that I had a few too many plants for the containers I’d meant to use.
So I stuck extra borage into any old, barely-holding-together pots I had and crammed them into bigger containers with more plants than would be recommended, yet they gave it a hearty go from the start!
Charming Blooms
The next reason I loved growing borage this year sounds superficial, but we all enjoy the visual pleasures our gardens bring us, don’t we? Well, as it turns out, borage flowers are absolutely gorgeous.
I described them above as an easily-recognizable method of identifying borage, but this is truly a case where a picture is worth a thousand words. (Since I’ve included many photos of the blooms from my garden, you can guess how many words I think could be expended in an attempt to adequately detail their appearance!)
Shaped like 5-pointed stars, these delicate flowers range from light pink to varying shades of periwinkle blue, sometimes tinged with magenta around the central anthers. When the plant has many flowers in bloom at various stages of maturity, the spectrum of extraordinary pastels is stunning. Even when they’ve faded and fallen away, no unsightly wilted mess remains.
Natural Resilience
By now you’ve probably gotten the (very fair!) impression that I’m not necessarily a green thumb by nature. Whatever success I have has more to do with research, acknowledging and catering to my limits, and frankly, luck. Even with the best of intentions, there have been many gardening lessons I’ve learned the hard way by experiencing failure and figuring out what I did wrong.
The same happened with borage. I realized somewhat belatedly that I didn’t actually know whether borage needed pruning, or how to prune it, until several of my plants had gotten rather…scraggly and had stopped producing flowers. I did some internet research but didn’t find quite what I was looking for, probably because most people with borage in their yard either let it grow naturally or just “know” through long familiarity with the plant.
Finally, I decided I had to give it a go, even without an official guide. Borage doesn’t have the easily-discernible pruning points that many herbs do; there are no obvious forks on the stem with visible new growth, signaling where a well-placed clip of the shears would encourage a fuller plant and another round of blooms. I crossed my fingers and did my best.
I still don’t know if my approach was the right one or not, but my borage certainly looked better after its haircut. It even bounced back enough to have a few more rounds of flowers. So I suppose I should take note of the lesson and have enough confidence in the future to try something, anything, before the plants get out of hand.
Êvolving Connection with the Garden
Speaking of lessons learned, borage also reminded me that gardening doesn’t always have to be about what and how much I’ve produced by the end of the season. I’ve had a sort of thought evolution on this topic over the past five years or so, which upon reflecting now, I find quite interesting.
Initially, I gardened every year just for the sake of having pretty plants to enjoy and some visual interest to liven up the deck space. After several years of basically growing the same selection of familiar, low-maintenance annuals, I found myself envious of my friends’ impressive full-sized gardens and wishing I could grow something I could actually harvest. It felt like my container garden lacked a purpose, and my zeal to keep up with the annual tasks dwindled.
My perspective changed a few years ago, when my interest was piqued as a result of some historical reading. I began researching the types of home remedies that women in centuries past, primarily the medieval and early modern periods, used to treat common ailments for family members, friends and neighbors. I was awed at the amount of herbal knowledge that had been gathered and passed down from mother to daughter for generations, and I began to wonder whether those medicinal plants were still commonly found today.
As a result of my curiosity, I reinvented my garden to grow those herbs. For the first couple of seasons, I focused my efforts on producing enough plant material that I could then experiment with some simple historical remedies, like compresses, salves and tinctures. Each fall, I made new plans for what new plants and remedies to try the next year.
As much as I enjoyed those experiments, there were down sides to that approach as well. If I didn’t feel like I had enough preserved and saved at the end of the season, I’d get stressed, even though I am privileged enough to not need to rely on these items for my person or family health.
I was still in that mindset for probably the first half of this season. Then, for a couple of weeks or so, I wasn’t able to spend much time caring for my plants, and the garden’s overall health suffered a decline.
I faced the distinct possibility that I wouldn’t have enough of certain herbs, borage included, to be able to make the products I’d planned. As overdramatic as it sounds, I felt like my efforts would be wasted and my season a failure.
Then about a week after I’d finally pruned the borage, it started coming back. Fresh new growth sprung from stems that had seemed spent, and new clusters of buds showed up like magic. It finally knocked enough sense back into my head that I realized something: if I spent all of my time focused on and worrying about what I would end up with at the end of the season, I’d miss the entire experience of watching these plants grow, thrive, then die or go dormant. I was missing the now, which was trying to teach me valuable lessons if I’d just pay attention!
So the final reason I’ve loved having borage added to my garden this year is that it reminded me how important it is to be present in each moment. For that, I’m grateful to this tiny blue-flowered plant.
Sources and Further Reading
https://practicalselfreliance.com/borage-uses/
https://www.britannica.com/plant/Boraginaceae
https://www.illinoiswildflowers.info/weeds/plants/borage.htm
https://www.botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/b/borage66.html
https://www.encyclopedia.com/medicine/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/borage-oil
Gerard, J., & Woodward, M. (2015). CHAP. 123. Of Borage. In Gerard’s Herball (pp. 185–186). essay, The Noverre Press.
Culpeper, N. (2018). Borage and Bugloss. In Culpeper’s English physician and complete herbal (pp. 90–91). essay, Forgotten Books.
Von Bingen, H. (1998). CCI. BORAGE. In P. Throop (Trans.), Hildegard von bingen’s PHYSICA: The complete translation of her classic work on health and healing. essay, Healing Arts Press.
Easley, T., & Horne, S. H. (2016). In The modern herbal dispensatory: A medicine-making guide. essay, North Atlantic Books.
Wood, M. (2008). Borago officinalis. Borage. . In The EARTHWISE herbal, a complete guide to Old World medicinal plants (pp. 145–149). essay, North Atlantic Books.
This Week in History: The Death of Henry V
This past week, we commemorated the death of Henry V of England on 31 August 1422. For a man who was hailed in his day as a mighty warrior king, immortalized by Shakespeare, and even today looms larger than life in historic memory, his end was abrupt, unexpected and lacked glory. Perhaps fittingly, I will save full discussion of his eventful life for other occasions, but as the impacts of his passing would be felt for decades, the event itself deserves commemoration.
A note to prepare the reader: if you feel somewhat turned around by the plethora of Henrys in this story, it’s for good reason! Three generations of Plantagenet kings in succession, all christened Henry, marked the start of the 15th century, much as the 12th century was home to multiple powerful matriarchs who shared the name Matilda. (Read about one such Matilda, mother of the Plantagenet dynasty who also carried the title of Empress, here.) In an effort to maintain the distinction between each as much as possible, I have utilized their alternate names or titles to assist.
Boyhood in the Royal Family
Our Henry was the oldest child of Henry Bolingbroke (the future Henry IV) and Mary de Bohun. Born at Monmouth Castle in September 1386, he was known in his early years as Henry of Monmouth. His grandfather was John of Gaunt, the powerful Duke of Lancaster and one of Edward III’s sons. John’s nephew, Richard II, was on the throne at the time of his grandson’s birth.
“Monmouth Castle” by Philip Halling is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
Throughout his youth, Henry’s father Bolingbroke found himself increasingly at odds with his cousin, the king. Just as Henry was reaching his teenage years, Richard sent Bolingbroke into exile, even while Henry himself was still serving the king on campaign in Ireland.
An Inheritance Denied
The following year, Henry’s grandfather John of Gaunt died, and Richard II refused to allow the Lancaster titles and lands to pass to his heir, the exiled Henry Bolingbroke. The ensuing conflict is worthy of further discussion at another time, but for our purposes now, suffice it to say that Bolingbroke did not take the loss of his inheritance well. It was the proverbial last straw, and it galvanized Bolingbroke to take action.
Richard II had become increasingly tyrannical as his reign progressed, so by 1399, Bolingbroke had easily gathered supporters from amongst those nobles who had been alienated from the crown. He returned to England, declaring that his aim was to reclaim his title and rights as Duke of Lancaster, but he found that he had enough support have himself proclaimed king.
Henry was still with Richard in Ireland when Bolingbroke usurped the throne as Henry IV. To his credit, Richard did not punish the son for the sins of the father, though it certainly must have made for some uncomfortable moments.
Henry, Prince of Wales
With his father now on the throne, Henry was made Prince of Wales and joined his father on his military campaigns, where he gained experience and demonstrated significant skill. They suppressed a revolt by the Welsh prince Owain Glyndwr and defeated a group of rebellious English nobles led by Sir Henry “Hotspur” Percy at the Battle of Shrewsbury.
Despite that battle ending in a royal victory, it nearly had fatal consequences for the new royal family. During the fighting, 16-year old Prince Henry was struck in the face by an arrow, which missed his nose and his eye but embedded itself into the back of his skull.
The task of treating the prince’s gory wound fell to John Bradmore, a surgeon from London. I will omit the grisly details here, but Bradmore later wrote a book, Philomena, about the inventive treatment he successfully used on the prince. He was able to prevent a deadly infection from taking hold, and Henry escaped with only the scars on his face.
The King is Dead. Long Live the King!
Henry IV died in 1413, and his son succeeded him as Henry V and the second king of the Lancastrian line. The new king set about piecing the country back together and smoothing over some of the fissures that opened after his father deposed Richard II. He saw to it that Richard’s body was respectfully reinterred in Westminster and welcomed his father’s enemies back into his councils.
With things on the home front settling down, Henry prioritized the continuing wars in France. His forebears had been pursuing their claim to the French throne since 1337 in what would become known as the Hundred Years’ War, and Henry’s military training and instincts led the way to fresh successes in battle.
Victory at Agincourt
Henry V’s most illustrious victory came in October 1415 at Agincourt. The English were heavily outnumbered and should have lost the battle, at least on paper, but the French suffered from disorganized leadership and a battleground site that put them at a disadvantage.
English archers using longbows cut down many knights and horses at a distance, while remaining protected from the advancing French lines by sharpened poles embedded into the ground in front of them at an angle. Any foot soldier or cavalry rider who got too close would have been impaled on those stakes. Many French fighters even suffocated in the mud left behind from the previous day’s rains; the battlefield was so crowded that once a soldier slipped and fell, he was unlikely to be able to get back up and instead either drowned or was trampled by his fellows pressing onward from behind.
After their victory, the English captured a large number of French prisoners of war. Normally, those prisoners of noble rank would have been ransomed back to their families. Not only was it the chivalric thing to do, it also meant that both sides benefitted from the transaction: the victorious side gained significant sums of money, and the vanquished were spared their lives. At Agincourt, however, Henry ordered his men to execute all of the prisoners they had taken. Whatever his motives may have been, Henry’s battlefield glory and reputation were somewhat tarnished by his treatment of his defeated enemy.
Warrior King on Campaign
For the next several years, the tide of the war remained in England’s favor. The French were in such political disarray that Henry was able to conquer and hold large areas of territory. By 1420, Charles VI of France was forced to sue for peace.
That summer, Charles and Henry signed the Treaty of Troyes. As part of their agreement, Henry was recognized as regent of France and named as Charles’ successor to the throne. To cement the peace and symbolize the joining of England and France together, Henry was to marry Charles’ daughter, Catherine of Valois. The two were married at Troyes Cathedral in June 1420.
Henry spent the next several months continuing his campaign, but he returned to England at the end of that year. He remained there until June 1421, when he returned to France after the death of his brother, who had been leading the English forces.
Fateful Parting
While Henry was away, his new queen, Catherine, gave birth to the couple’s first child: a baby, Henry, born at Windsor Castle in December 1422. Sadly, baby Henry would never meet his father; even as Catherine welcomed their son and heir, Henry V had already embarked on what was to be his last military campaign.
Over the winter of 1421-22, the English army laid siege to the town of Meaux. Sometime during the siege, Henry had contracted dysentery, then known as the bloody flux. While such diseases were common occurrences amidst the unsanitary conditions of siege warfare, Henry was strong and still only around 35 years of age; it must have been hard for anyone who knew the young warrior king to imagine him brought low in such a manner.
Unfortunately for his family and his country, Henry succumbed on August 31, 1422. His body was returned to England and interred at Westminster Abbey. Suddenly the old king was gone, and the new king of England and heir to France was a tiny boy, barely nine months old.
Arrangements for an Infant King
During the months following his initial illness, Henry had made what preparations he could to protect his son’s future and the stability of England in the event that he did not recover. He would have been painfully aware that his heir was his baby son, whose minority would be a dangerous time for both the boy king and the country.
Henry named his brother John, Duke of Bedford, as regent of France on behalf of the baby Henry VI, who inherited his father’s role as successor to Charles VI. Henry and John’s remaining brother, Humphrey, would be appointed as the boy’s protector and regent in England to protect, guide and advise him at home.
“Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child….” – Ecclesiastes 10:16
With their new sovereign a nine-month-old baby and an ongoing foreign war, England’s stability began to fracture. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester had control over the infant king at his late brother’s command, but his powerful uncle, Cardinal Beaufort, often opposed and even undermined Humphrey.
Factions soon formed that supported either the duke or the cardinal. Throughout Henry VI’s minority, the nobility quarreled for influence over the impressionable young king and sought the favor of his uncles.
Impact on the French Wars
While his soldiers certainly may have grieved the loss of their warrior king, Henry V’s death did not have an immediate detrimental effect on the English objectives in France. Bedford proved himself to be a capable administrator, and the next several years saw a succession of victories as the army worked its way south.
Eventually, however, the years of intense warfare took their toll on the English government, its army and its people. The treasury was running dry, old reliable commanders died or could no longer lead troops, and the French started to rally, aided by the arrival of Joan of Arc. Over the years, lands won by Henry V were gradually lost, one after another, and the English people grew disenchanted with the fight for glory across the Channel.
In the eyes of many English citizens, all of the money, time, effort and blood they had spent for the cause over nearly a century was being squandered away by feuding nobles and disastrous military mistakes. Unsurprisingly, these frustrations contributed to the increasing instability at home.
A Very Different Sort of King
By the time Henry VI reached his majority and could rule on his own, it had become evident that this king was made of different stuff than his father had been. By nature, he was more suited to be a scholar than a warrior. He was extremely pious and devout, but he lacked the natural instincts for ruling a country or curbing a raucous bunch of nobles. More and more, Henry relied on his favorites and rewarded them richly, which only served to further unbalance the court. Where his father had worked to reunite the country and expand its influence on the continent, Henry’s reign was a slow spiral downwards until ultimately he, too, was deposed from the throne.
Ultimately, Henry V’s early death led to significant imbalances both at home and abroad. Those factors simmered until they eventually erupted into the civil war that would later become known as the Wars of the Roses.
Sources and Further Reading
https://www.history.com/topics/british-history/henry-v-england
https://www.history.com/topics/middle-ages/hundred-years-war?li_source=LI&li_medium=m2m-rcw-history
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/true-story-henry-v-englands-warrior-king-180973432/