The Rowan Grove Folklore

The Role of Rowan in Scottish Border Folklore

The Rowan: A Tree of Power in the Scottish Borders

Along the Ettrick, Yarrow and Teviot valleys, few trees carried as much weight in local lore as the rowan. Also called the mountain ash, though it is no relation to the ash, the rowan (Sorbus aucuparia) was believed to be a potent guard against witchcraft, fairies and the evil eye. In a region shaped by reiving, remote shepherding and long winters, such protection was not superstition for its own sake — it was practical insurance. A rowan tree planted near the cottage door, or a sprig carried in a pocket, was as much a part of Borders life as a good collie or a well-oiled gun.

Charms for the Home: Rowan Crosses and Red Thread

The best-known Borders custom was the rowan cross. Two twigs of equal length were cut from a rowan tree, preferably on Beltane (1 May) or at first light on a Sunday. They were bound into a cross with red thread — wool was traditional, though any red cord would do. The rhyme ran: “Rowan tree and red thread, haud the witches a’ in dread.” The cross was hung above the cottage door, inside the porch, or over the hearth. In some households, a smaller version was sewn into the lining of a coat or placed in a child’s cradle.

Red thread alone was also used. A length tied around a rowan twig and then around a cow’s tail, or wound about a gatepost, was thought to break any ill wish. The combination of rowan wood and red — the colour of blood, life and protection — was the key. Without the thread, the charm was considered incomplete.

Protecting Livestock: Rowan in the Byre and the Field

For a Borders farming family, cattle and sheep were wealth. Rowan was therefore put to work in the byre. A hoop of rowan, often bound with red thread, was placed over the byre door or hung from the rafters. Some shepherds tied a rowan twig to the tail of a newly calved cow, or laid a branch in the milking pail to stop the milk from being “elf-shot” or stolen by witches. Churns were sometimes stirred with a rowan stick for the same reason.

  • Byre door: a rowan cross or hoop fixed above the lintel.
  • Milk pail: a small rowan twig laid across the rim during milking.
  • Cattle tail: a red-threaded rowan sprig tied on at calving.
  • Field gate: a rowan branch wedged into the hinge side to keep harm out.

Rowan trees were also planted near steadings and sheep fanks, never cut down without good reason. To fell a rowan was to invite bad luck — unless you were making a charm, and even then you asked the tree’s pardon.

Foraging Rowan: Berries, Jelly and Country Wine

Come September and October, rowan berries hang in heavy scarlet clusters. They are bitter and astringent raw, and contain parasorbic acid, so they must be cooked. Traditionally, they were harvested after the first frost, which sweetens them. In the Borders, rowan jelly was — and still is — served with venison, mutton or game. The recipe is simple: equal weights of rowan berries and crab apples or sharp eating apples, simmered with water until soft, then strained through a jelly bag. For every 600ml of juice, add 450g of sugar and boil until set.

Rowan wine was another favourite. The berries were steeped in boiling water, left to cool, then fermented with sugar and yeast. The result is a dry, ruby-coloured wine that improves with age. Never eat rowan berries raw in quantity — a few are harmless, but the acid can upset the stomach. Always leave plenty for the birds, especially redwings and fieldfares, which rely on them in winter.

Traditional Crafts from Rowan Wood

Rowan wood is hard, fine-grained and pale, with a warm honey tone when polished. It was prized for small, strong items: tool handles, walking sticks, spinning-wheel parts, and the spindles of wool wheels. A shepherd’s crook might be of rowan, and so might a spurtle for stirring porridge. The wood also took a fine finish, so it was used for carved spoons and knitting needles.

In the Borders, rowan was sometimes used for divining rods — though hazel was more common — and for protective staves. A walking stick of rowan, cut on a full moon, was said to keep its owner from harm on lonely tracks over the Cheviots. Today, green woodworkers still value rowan for its ability to turn cleanly and take a crisp edge. If you forage a straight branch after a storm, you have a ready-made handle for a billhook or a firewood saw.

Keeping the Rowan’s Gifts Alive

You do not need to believe in witches to enjoy the old customs. Plant a rowan in a corner of the garden — it tolerates poor soil and even coastal winds. In spring, cut two twigs and tie a simple cross with red wool; hang it by your door as a nod to the past. In autumn, gather berries for jelly, leaving the highest clusters for the birds. And if you make a walking stick or a tool handle from rowan, remember the old rule: ask the tree first, and never take more than you need. The rowan asks little and gives much — protection, food, and fine timber — just as it did for generations along the Scottish Borders.