The root of the common Male Fern (Filix mas), was an important ingredient in the love-philtres of former days. An old Gaelic bard sings:—
“’Twas the maiden’s matchless beauty
That drew my heart anigh;
Not the Fern-root potion,
But the glance of her blue eye.”
In olden times the young scroll-like fronds of this Fern were called Lucky Hands, or St. John’s Hands, and were believed to protect the possessor from sorcery, witches’ spells, and the Evil Eye. In Germany, the Male Fern was formerly called Johanniswurtzel; and both on the Continent, and in England, it was the custom, on Midsummer Eve, to gather this Fern, which was sold to the credulous, who wore it about their persons, and mingled it with the water drunk by their cows, as a protection against all evil spirits
, and to ensure good luck. It is believed, in Thuringia, that if anyone carries Fern about him, he will be pursued by serpents until he throws it away. In Sweden, the plant is called Snake-bane.
An ancient notion prevailed, that the Male Fern had an antipathy to the Reed; and that where one grew, the other was sure to be absent. According to Dioscorides, “the root hereof is reported to be good for those that have ill spleens; and being stamped with swine’s grease and applied, it is a remedy against the pricking of the Reed.” Other old herbalists state, that the roots of the Male Fern, and the Lady Fern (Filix fœmina), boiled in oil, produced “very profitable ointments to heal wounds.” The Ophioglossum had, in olden times, the reputation of being a cure for the bite of serpents. (See also [Bracken]).
According to Cornish fairy mythology, the Fern was connected with the Small Folk, who are believed to be the spirits of the people who inhabited Cornwall thousands of years ago—long before the birth of Christ. In the legend of the Fairy Widower, a pretty girl, Jenny Permuen, a village coquette, one day set off to “look for a place.” At the junction of four cross roads, she sat down on a boulder of granite, and thoughtlessly began to break off the beautiful fronds of Ferns which grew all around. Suddenly a young man appeared before her, and addressing her by name, enquired what brought her there. Jenny replied that she wished to obtain a situation, and was on her road to the market town. The young man said he was a widower, and in want of a young woman to take care of his little son; and that as he liked Jenny’s good looks, he would engage her there and then for a year and a day, and pay her well; but that he should require her to swear his oath, which consisted in kissing a Fern-leaf, and repeating the formula:—
“For a year and a day,