It is clear that plants are generally much wiser than I am. Tansy proves this point. Somehow, early on in the life of my current landscape, tansy or Tanacetum vulgare, made its first appearance by the hedge in the front garden. I overlooked the plant when it sprouted, but by mid-summer of the first year, it couldn’t hide itself, growing about four feet tall, with lush, ferny foliage. The flowers, clustered at the tops of the stalks, resembled tiny gold button mums, hence one of tansy’s common names, “golden buttons”.
The yellow flowers looked as if they would work in an indoor arrangement, so I clipped one of the stalks. My nose wrinkled. The odor or fragrance—depending on individual perception—is sharp. Some people describe it as being like camphor, with or without an overtone of rosemary. I am in the camphor camp and tansy’s aroma triggers mental images of unromantic substances like moth repellent and harsh soap. Needless to say, those items do not dance hand in hand with a bevy of pleasant associations.
Still, if you combine the blooms with other, more fragrant species, the golden buttons make wonderful, long-lasting cut flowers. Eventually they dry and can stand on their own in everlasting arrangements as well. On balance, I decided that tansy was earning its keep in the garden that first year and therefore deserved a chance to return for a second season.
Tansy must have certain sensibilities, because the plant took my non-interference as a sign of affection. The second season, I had a big healthy clump of tansy, with some stalks that were taller than the privet hedge behind them. The harvest of gold buttons was equally
impressive and made for many great bouquets.
Taking note of the plant’s tendencies, I decided to cut it back hard after the flowering period ended. The tansy responded by coming back even stronger—if a bit shorter–within a few weeks. There were no more flowers that season, but the plants produced a quantity of aromatic foliage. That growth spurt and subsequent expansion by way of creeping underground roots, was the beginning of a fraught relationship between the gardener and the tansy that has lasted until now.
Over time, though, tansy has also softened me up. I have realized that it doesn’t just exude a strong aroma, but sings an ancient song. It is native to temperate areas in Europe and Asia, including Great Britain, and has been used for food, medicine and as a dye source for millennia. The foliage has both insect repellent and preservative properties and was used in the preservation of meat prior to refrigeration. From ancient until late Victorian times, tansy leaves were also a feature of traditional external embalming techniques, linking the plant with both death and immortality. Ganymede, servant and cup bearer to Zeus, reputedly drank tansy juice and became immortal. Do not try that at home.
Back in the Middle Ages, when just about everything smelled bad, tansy was held in high regard as a “strewing herb”, strewn on floors and walkways to sweeten the air. It was especially prized for its ability to repel the ever-present flies. Because of its rather bitter taste, small amounts of tansy leaves were also chopped and baked into Lenten dishes to provide a bit of bite and a reminder of the bitter nature of that season. Those Lenten dishes may have had other benefits as well, because tansy was also used medicinally to expel intestinal parasites. These days, tansy is little used, even by herbal medicine practitioners, because of the plant’s toxicity when taken in anything but tiny quantities.
Given tansy’s vigorous nature, it wouldn’t surprise me if it is still in demand as a dye plant. The golden button-like flowers produce a golden-orange color.
In the garden, tansy is an empire builder, expanding quickly in sun to very light shade and overwhelming other, better-mannered plants. It does not seem to be fussy about soil and tolerates some drought. To keep it under control, cut back by one third in mid-spring to reduce the plants’ height and increase flower production. Grub out unwanted sprouts the minute you see them and if you give the discards to unsuspecting friends or neighbors, warn them about tansy’s legendary vigor.
Grow tansy in an herb garden, well-tended perennial bed or as a companion plant in the vegetable garden. The plant’s insect-repellant properties work, at least to some degree, on a host of agricultural and horticultural pests including ants and a variety of destructive beetles. Your squash, cucumbers, potato plants and roses will most likely thank you.
If you don’t know anyone who can provide you with surplus tansy, order the plant from Well-Sweep Herb Farm, 205 Mount Bethel Rd, Port Murray, NJ 07865-4147,
(908) 852-5390; www.wellsweep.com. Catalog $3.00.