by George Jacobi
Joshua’s Trust doesn’t preserve much meadow acreage (there isn’t much left in CT), so for us, midsummer’s botanical color is enjoyed along sunny open roadsides. And we drive by them, paying scant attention. But summer’s wildflowers sometimes have stories to tell.
One of those common colors, according to Peterson’s Field Guide description of Joe Pye Weed flowers, is “pale pinkish purple”. Joe Pye (Zhopai, or perhaps Schauquethqueat) was a Mohegan historical figure whose medicine, formulated from the plant, apparently cured typhoid for both Indigenous people and European settlers. Those whites may have kept him around for that reason while exiling the rest of his Tribe. That recipe is gone, alas, but the plant is still used as a diuretic, for kidney ailments, and other health issues. Ashinaabe lore has Joe giving his grandchildren seeds of the plant to spread on the trail, so he could follow them and the Tribe from New York state to western Massachusetts. The narrative of Joe Pye lives on in Stockbridge, complicated by conflicting tales from colonial history and those of the Stockbridge-Munsee People.
A native plant, Eutrochium can grow to 8 feet, blooms July to September, and generally likes good soil and keeping its feet wet. Joe Pye Weed flowers form large domes that attract pollinators. Butterfly visitors include monarchs, swallowtails, and skippers; bees include honeybees, bumblebees, and other species. That it is a common pollen source is reassuring these days. That it is native is as well, given the provenance of some other summer flora, for instance Queen Anne’s Lace.
Early colonists brought Daucus Carota, a carrot family plant, with them from Europe for similar medicinal purposes as Joe Pye Weed. It’s now so prevalent along roadsides and across any open area that we don’t even see it. And if we do, we assume it’s native. In fact, it’s been classified as invasive in many states. On the bright side, unlike so much introduced flora, our native bees, butterflies, and other beneficial insects do make use of its nectar.
Here is an even more embroidered saga. Queen Anne l was the wife of King James the First. Legends include her pricking her finger while tatting lace (accounting for the deep purple floret in the middle of the white flower head), or that courtiers would adorn themselves with the blossoms as “living lace”, or that the blooms simply resembled the lace in wide use at the time.
But wait: a more disturbing tale from the Farmer’s Almanac has Queen Anne the Second as the source for the name. This Anne had 17 pregnancies in 16 years, of which 12 ended in miscarriages. Innuendos about her tragic life include herbalist folklore that the seeds of the plant have contraceptive effects. A 1997 book, “Eve’s Herbs”, agrees that women from ancient times have used herbs to prevent pregnancy, and in pockets of the deep south still do. To add to the sad royal mystery, her 6 children (one pair of twins) died as well, 5 before their second birthdays. Thus, the now more heartbreaking bloody droplet metaphor may refer instead to Anne ll.
In addition to pink and white, our summer color palette includes blue-flowered chicory, also introduced from Europe (and yes, it’s been a coffee additive and substitute for thousands of years), the orange common daylily, from Asia, and bright yellow and native evening primrose and goldenrod. Ironically, goldenrod has become an invasive plant in Europe. A fine herbaceous rainbow, but intriguing stories are in short supply for these other hues.
Atwood Farm and Joe-Pye Weed photos: Michelle Poudrette