Nettles:
Myth, Magic & Medieval Lore

In the medieval world, nettles were far from being just an irritating weed. They were a plant of many talents, woven into daily life in ways that might surprise us today.

Walk through a medieval village in early spring, and you’d likely see people gathering fresh, young nettle leaves, careful to avoid the sting… or sometimes seeking it out. After the long hunger of winter, when green food was scarce, nettles were among the first plants to rise from the earth. They were a gift of survival: packed with iron, calcium, and Vitamin C, restoring strength to tired bodies and waking the blood after months of salted meat and stale bread. Nettles simmered in soups or pottages, brewed as teas or tonics, became a quiet medicine of renewal.

But food was only part of their story.

The tall, fibrous stalks of the nettle carried another secret. Stripped and processed much like flax, their tough inner fibres could be spun into thread and woven into cloth. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was sturdy — a kind of poor man’s linen — strong enough for workwear and humble household cloth. In fact, nettle textiles endured in parts of Europe long after the medieval period, valued for their durability and resilience.

Herbalists, too, honoured the nettle as an ally. Teas and salves were made for clearing the skin, soothing digestion, easing fevers, and strengthening the blood. For joint pain and arthritis, some healers even used the sting itself, deliberately brushing nettles against the skin to spark circulation and numb pain. It may sound extreme now, but to our ancestors this was nature’s pharmacy: fierce, direct, and effective.

Farmers turned to nettles as well. Dried, they provided nutritious fodder for animals. Steeped in water, they became a rich liquid fertiliser — a living green brew that nourished crops long before chemical feeds were imagined.

And beyond the practical, nettles carried their own magic and lore.

In folklore, nettles were a plant of protection. Sprigs were hung in doorways to ward off lightning, evil spirits, or unwelcome intruders. In some traditions, a nettle leaf tucked into the shoe kept one safe from fairy mischief, while throwing fresh nettles into the hearth was said to banish negativity from the home. Their sting, paradoxically, made them both feared and revered: a boundary plant that taught respect, reminding anyone who reached too carelessly that every gift has its cost.

Legends even tell of nettle shirts — garments woven from nettle fibre as acts of devotion or trial. In Hans Christian Andersen’s tale The Wild Swans, the heroine gathers nettles to weave shirts that will break a spell and free her brothers. In this story, as in much of folklore, nettles are bound up with transformation, endurance, and sacrifice.

So next time you see a patch of nettles swaying by the hedgerow or creeping along a woodland path, pause before you shy away. Remember that beneath the sting lies a plant of deep resilience, practical wisdom, and ancient magic — a reminder that what appears as nuisance can often be the greatest ally.