In
the beginning, of course, it was all Adam's fault. One bite of that forbidden
fruit and it was "Cursed is the ground for thy sake, ...thorns also and
thistles shall it bring forth to thee..." and, ever since, thistles have
been both a curse and cursed. As a boy I earned my first wages leading horses
in Norfolk harvest fields and I still remember the comments when a sheaf
containing "jagger-nettles" (as we called them) was pitched to the man on the
wagon.Of the two species of Cirsium found on the Down, it is the perennial creeping thistle (C. arvense) which is the farmer's worst enemy. Once introduced into a field it spreads by means of creeping lateral roots to form large dense patches which were extremely difficult to eradicate in the days before modern herbicides. The biennial spear thistle (C. vulgare) spreads only by seeds so tends to occur as isolated plants in a field.
But it was the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil which Adam is supposed to have eaten and his descendants soon came to know that there is some good even in thistles. Thistle leaves crushed to break off the spines were once used to provide valuable fodder for cattle and horses, thistle seed are a favourite food of that delightful bird the goldfinch, the plants have been used in herbal medicine (Culpeper claimed that they would cure bad breath and B.O.!) and, of course, the rich purple, almost heraldic, flowers of the spear thistle have their own bold beauty.
In the summer look for the creeping thistles bearing the bright yellow pustules of the rust fungus Puccinia sauveolens. The rust gives the plants a somewhat sweet smell - the only plant pathogen that I know of which has such a pleasing property. Later the fungus produces dark pustules of resting spores and then the scent is lost.
And finally, for those who like bits of absolutely useless information, the head of a spear thistle dropped into milk will curdle it. Try it and see.
April 2001
Spear Thistle : Magog Down, 2006
Photographs © 2006 L.E. and The Magog Trust