Shades of purple

Spring brings with it the greening of the land, as increasing day length and warming temperatures stimulate new growth. In with the green are welcome splashes of colour, the first of the year’s flowers providing early nectar for newly emerged insects. Alongside the shouty yellow of Lesser Celandine, there are the softer purple tones of Red Dead-nettle and Ground-ivy. I have always liked the soft purples of these small springtime flowers, perhaps because they are understated, perhaps because you have to get down on your hands and knees to really appreciate them. Both Red Dead-nettle and Ground-ivy are overlooked plants, often regarded as weeds within the garden by those who do not appreciate their aesthetic or wildlife value. This is a real shame, not least because Ground-ivy (in particular) was once a well-regarded plant.

Take a closer look at Ground-ivy and you will see that it is a softly-hairy plant, with blunt-tipped, kidney-shaped leaves, each of which is strongly toothed. The flowers are pale violet colour (sometimes almost pink) with delicate purple spotting. The plant sets very little in the way of seed but instead spreads vegetatively through the rapid growth of its creeping stems. This habit earned it the local name of ‘blue runner’ now seemingly no longer in use. Although it is common and widespread, the plant appears to be increasing within woodland habitats, particularly in southern Britain. It is thought that this a consequence of expanding deer populations, whose preferential grazing on more palatable herbs has favoured the bitter-tasting Ground-ivy.

It is this bitter taste that has seen Ground-ivy used in tonic herbal teas and, occasionally, in salads. The early Anglo Saxons, who used it to clarify their beers, made greater use of the plant. Added to a brew, the plant improved flavour, extended the time over which a beer could be kept and also improved its clarity. The practice of using Ground-ivy in this manner continued up until the reign of Henry VIII, at which time it was replaced in this role by the Hop, a cultivar of which was introduced into Britain during the 16^th Century specifically for this purpose. The beer was referred to as ‘gill-ale’, derived from one of the English names for the plant; another name for the plant, associated with the brewing of beer, was ‘ale-hoof’.

There appear to have been a number of other local uses for the plant. It was used as a stuffing at Easter for a leg of pork in Shropshire and, elsewhere in Europe, the leaves were eaten by French peasants during autumn, when their flavour was further strengthened by the presence of brown galls formed by a small gall wasp.