vii Foraging Through Folklore Ella Leith

Under the Linden

Ella Leith

As Summer days stretch out, the Linden tree (Tilia sp., also known as the Lime) comes into its own. Its sweet-smelling blossom attracts people and bees alike, and little could be more summery than lazing in the shade of its broadleafed branches, listening to the bees’ soothing drone— and waking to find a sticky film of sap on your face. In Slavic languages, the Linden— or Lipa —even lends its name to the Summer months: June in Croatian is Lipanj; July is Lipiec in Polish and липня (Lypnya) in Ukrainian. In Chinese tradition, the Linden is known as ‘the tree of forgetfulness’ because ‘its energy is soft, gentle and it offers the sensation of warmth and peace’ (Ţenche-Constantinescu et al., 2015:238). Appropriately, its blossom can be made into a relaxing tea. Mabey (1988) recounts that, in France, it was customary to induce hyperactive children to drink this tea in the shade of a Linden tree— presumably in the hope of intensifying its calming influence.

Indeed, the calming influence of the Linden was thought to stretch beyond the grave. In Polish tradition, the vampire-like monsters known as wąpierz were believed to ‘stalk their own relatives after rising from the dead’ and to suck their blood using ‘a barb on the underside of [their] tongue[s]’ (Romero 2019). This apparently ‘common problem’ was mitigated against by driving a stake made from the wood of Linden or Hawthorn (— the holy thorn, Crataegus monogyna) through the heart of a suspected wąpierz. This kept the corpse at rest. (In case you’re concerned, signs that you or a loved one might be a wąpierz include ‘being born with teeth, having an animal jump over one’s grave shortly after the burial… or not being baptized’ (ibid.); perhaps consider alerting the funeral director when the time comes).

Like Hawthorn, Linden has long been held to be holy, and can often be found planted in front of houses in Central Europe to protect the family inside. The similarities to Hawthorn continue: woe betide those who cut down a Linden tree without good reason (ŢencheConstantinescu et al., 2015), and there are even stories of magical Lindens blooming in the middle of Winter (Copeland, 1949)— although this phenomenon doesn’t seem to have been recorded in nature, unlike the Glastonbury Hawthorn. The midwinter blossom of the Linden is a motif in tales concerning the legendary Slovenian King Matjaž, who, like King Arthur, will reawaken in his people’s hour of direst need and lead them to victory. The legend goes that a Linden tree planted in front of the mountain where King Matjaž sleeps has blossomed once for one hour at midnight on the Winter solstice, then withered; when the king returns, he will hang his shield on the Linden and revive it— and, with it, the country (ibid.). Tales of King Matjaž were popular across Central Europe during the wars between the Holy Roman and Ottoman Empires, during which time ‘victory trees’ (Lindens, of course) were planted to commemorate skirmishes won against Turkish raiders (Palovic and Bereghazyova, 2020). Similarly, during the Hungarian domination of today's Slovakia, the

Linden became a secret resistance symbol, and again during the Slovak National Uprising against Nazi occupiers, remaining an important national symbol in the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Slovenia (ibid.).

The sacred status of the Linden stretches beyond Slavic cultures. In Scandinavia, Lindens were frequently planted as Vårdträd (in Swedish) or Tuntre (in Norwegian): sacred ‘care trees’ in the centre of the farmyard. As a ritualised symbol of ‘intimacy with place’, the family’s ongoing care for the tree was an act of ‘respect for ancestors’ spirits that were/are believed to reside in the tree, …a moral reminder of caring for the…place where one lives’ (Hulmes, 2009:2). In Ancient Greece, the Linden was considered the sacred tree of Aphrodite, who, according to Heroditus, bestowed the gift of soothsaying on the enarei (Scythian shamans), which they practised with braided pieces of Linden bark (ŢencheConstantinescu et al. 2015). In Northern Europe, the Linden is associated with Freyja, ‘the goddess of fortune, fertility, love and truth’, and the Baltic goddess of fate, Laima (Ţenche-Constantinescu et al. 2015). Another link to fate can be found in the German Medieval epic poem, the ‘Nibelungenlied’, in which the hero Siegfried bathes in the blood of a dragon to become invincible, but a Linden leaf sticks between his shoulder blades and creates the equivalent of Achilles’ heel, the weak spot that leads to his death (Blamires, 2009:354). Thus, the Linden marked the boundary between life and death, between salvation and punishment. Similarly, a twelfthcentury text records the visions of Gottschalk, a German peasant who fell ‘into an ecstasy of five days and nights, during which he was led through the realms of the dead' by two angels: They came to an unusually big and beautiful linden-tree. Each of its twigs was luxuriantly loaded with pairs of shoes, more than anyone could have thought to exist in the whole world. Beyond this tree a plain extended, a heathy ground wild and waste, filled with sharp unbreakable thorns... Here the souls of the dead congregated from all directions in order to be tested. But each of them recognized for himself whether or not he had merited a pair of shoes by works of mercy, accepting them from an angel, or sadly passing by barefooted. (Dinzelbacher, 1986:71) The role of the Linden in the act of judgement had prosaic applications as well. Lindens were often planted in the centre of Northern European villages, and were sites of local jurisprudence until well into the Early Modern period. Indeed, ‘Gerichtslinden’, or ‘Linden courts’, were common throughout the Holy Roman Empire, and legal verdicts were returned ‘sub Tilia’ or ‘unter der Linden’, literally ‘under the Linden tree’ (ŢencheConstantinescu et al. 2015).

But the Linden is a Summer tree and not unduly grave, and village Lindens also hosted joyful seasonal customs. In Medieval Germany, the communal dances that marked Summer were held ‘in the open, on the green, often round the village lime-tree’ (Bastow, 1936:324). In parts of Bohemia, the Summer ritual included two Linden trees: one for the young women of the village and the girl selected as Queen to congregate under, one for the young men and the chosen King, all bedecked in ribbons. Tufnell writes: The men twine a garland for the Queen, and the girls for the King… [then] they go in procession, two and two, to the alehouse, where the crier proclaims the names of the King and Queen, who are invested with the insignia of office and crowned with the garlands, to the strains of music. (1924:41) The King was then often ritually decapitated— pronounced guilty of a crime (sub Tilia?) and his hat struck off with a wooden sword— but all in good fun. Thus, Lindens were strongly associated with community cohesion through merry-making, and had a ‘profound signification… [as] a symbol of friendship and fidelity’ (Ţenche-Constantinescu et al., 2015:239). Indeed, they often feature in Medieval tales and ballads as the meeting

point for friends and lovers. In one Germanorigin ballad, collected in 1814, the adventure begins when the hero’s sister goes into the forest:

With many knights and squires she rode to an ancient linden tree; There in mirth and feasting lay the gallant company. (Napier, 1879:94) More raunchily, in the Middle High German poem ‘Under der Linden’ by Walther von der Vogelweide (c.1170-1230), a knight and his lady use the shade provided by the tree for their tryst: …Had he kisses? A thousand some Tándaradéi See how red my mouth's become. …If any knew he lay with me (May God forbid!), for shame I'd die. What did he do? May none but he Ever be sure of that — and I, And one extremely tiny bird, Tándaradéi, Who will, I think, not say a word. The association between Linden and love is strong: Ţenche-Constantinescu et al. describe it as a sacred tree of lovers, recording that it was customary throughout Medieval Europe to ‘swear eternal love at the shadow of a linden tree, because it was believed that this tree determines them to say the truth’ (2015:239). Similarly, a French superstition told that if a bride and groom passed under two Linden trees whose treetops touched, then the marriage would never fall apart (ibid.). The motif of the Linden as a symbol of enduring love can be found in a Swedish tradition, whereby newlyweds would plant two Lindens close together, giving each the same names as themselves, to ensure the longevity and harmony of their marriage (Mabey, 1997). Linden love is also found in Romanian folktales: in ‘Dochia and the Fortune Tellers’ a disappeared husband is spiritually reunited with his family through the planting of a Linden; in ‘The Legend of the Linden Tree’, the lovers are transformed into a Linden and a bee after their deaths, so that they can continue to take carnal delight in each other (ŢencheConstantinescu, et al. 2015). Appropriately, the Linden is also strongly associated with fertility (ibid.), although I doubt whether the lady in ‘Under der Linden’ would be delighted by this…

So, as Summer draws on, make time to sit under the Linden tree. It’s a place to make peace, make promises, make decisions, make friends, and maybe even make love. Enjoy yourselves.

References Bastow, A. (1936) ‘Peasant Customs and Superstitions in Thirteenth Century Germany’, in Folklore, 47(3): 313-328 Blamires, D. (2009) Telling Tales: The Impact of Germany on English Children’s Books 17801918. Open Book Publishers: Cambridge Copeland, F. S. (1949) ‘Some Aspects of Slovene Folklore’, in Folklore, 60(2): 277-286 Dinzelbacher, P. (1986) ‘The Way to the Other World in Medieval Literature and Art’, in Folklore, 97(1): 70-87 Hulmes, D. F. (2009) ‘Sacred Trees of Norway And Sweden: A Friluftsliv Quest’, in Norwegian Journal of Friluftsliv, accessed via norwegianjournaloffriluftsliv.com Mabey, R. (1988) The Complete New Herbal. Elm Tree Books: London Mabey, R. (1997) Flora Britannica. Sinclair Stevenson: London Napier, J. (1879) ‘Old Ballad Folk-Lore’, in The Folk-Lore Record, 2(1): 92-126 Tufnell, B. (1924) ‘Czecho-Slovak Folklore’, in Folklore, 35(1): 26-56 Palovic, Z. and Bereghazyova, G. (2020) The Legend of the Linden: A History of Slovakia. Strauss Consultants: New York Romero, R. (2019) ‘Haunted by monsters: Top 5 wicked creatures In Polish folklore’, article on the Folklore Thursday blog, www.folklorethursday.com (04/04/19) Ţenche-Constantinescu, A.-M.; Varan, C.; Borlea F.; Madoşa E., and Szekely G. (2015) ‘The symbolism of the linden tree’ in Journal of Horticulture, Forestry and Biotechnology,19(2): 237-242 von der Vogelweide, W. ‘Under der Linden’ / ‘Under the Lime Tree’ (trans. unknown), www.poemhunter.com