In the quaint town of Wilbraham, nestled within historic houses that stand as silent witnesses to centuries past, mysterious apotropaic marks (from Greek apotrepein "to ward off") are symbols or patterns scratched into a building or other objects to keep witches out through apotropaic magic. These symbols grace walls, doors, and attic beams alike. Known by many names, one common mark—hexafoil, witch mark, six-petaled rosettes, or six-lobed stars—these enigmatic daisy wheels have sparked curiosity and speculation across the globe.
Crafted with precision, often using compasses or carpenters' dividers, these symbols feature an outer circle embracing six pointed "petals," resembling an intricate flower. Their presence is not confined to Wilbraham; rather, they can be found in New England and beyond, adorning not just houses but also barns, furniture, and gravestones. Yet, their meaning remains shrouded in mystery, inviting theories as diverse as the symbols themselves.
Some insist these marks are protective inscriptions against witches, a testament to the lingering fears that permeated seventeenth- and eighteenth-century New England. In an era marked by witch trials and supernatural anxieties, the belief in warding off malevolent forces persisted, prompting the use of symbols for spiritual fortification.
As whispers of witchcraft faded from popular consciousness in the mid-1800s, the daisy wheels endured, perhaps transformed into symbols of good luck and house blessings. Beyond their utilitarian origins, these symbols became cherished charms, adorning gravestones, Pennsylvania German barns, furniture, and woodworking tools. Their persistence as attractive embellishments hints at a cultural continuity that transcends time and belief systems.
Exploring the tapestry of history, daisy wheels are often found clustered around fireplaces, windows, and doors, emphasizing the vulnerability of these openings. In England and the United States, they share spaces with other protective markings—fylfots, the evil eye, Marian marks—creating a mosaic of spiritual defense against unseen forces.
The daisy wheel phenomenon extends beyond mere markings; ritual deposits hidden within walls or under thresholds—worn shoes, animal skulls, or iron implements—add a layer of mystique to the narrative. These concealed offerings, like a secret pact with the supernatural, further deepen the connection between the material and spiritual realms.
The second prevailing theory proposes that carpenters were responsible for creating daisy wheels, utilizing these intricate geometric symbols for measuring and designing during the construction process. This theory finds merit in the integration of geometric shapes and proportions in the architecture of even common buildings, necessitating master builders to possess a solid grasp of basic geometry and calculation skills, as they often played the dual role of architect and designer for vernacular structures.
Some researchers have attempted to validate this theory by superimposing daisy wheels onto scaled-down, measured drawings of buildings, revealing intriguing correlations with framing members and other architectural elements. It is noteworthy that builders occasionally use building parts to sketch makeshift architectural plans or make calculations, as evidenced by scratched or chalked drawings found during restoration work on the backs of wallboards or the undersides of stair treads.
Builders, being well-equipped with tools such as carpenters' dividers, race knives, or compasses, were particularly adept at creating circular designs. Additionally, builders had access to various building parts, including elevated posts or beams in attics, which would be challenging for anyone to reach after construction. These spaces often contain carpenters' marks and lumber tally marks, sometimes mistaken for apotropaic markings.
Despite the appeal of attributing daisy wheels to housewrights, challenges emerge. Eighteenth-century architecture books, while discussing geometry and design with illustrations of geometric shapes, do not portray or explain daisy wheels in the construction context. Furthermore, the execution of many daisy wheels raises questions about their association with builders. Some were created long after construction, evident from multiple layers of paint, and are often found on highly visible, finished surfaces—a departure from the typical behavior of a careful carpenter.
The inconsistent quality of daisy wheels, marked by incorrect proportions, an unsteady hand, or the use of suboptimal tools, challenges assumptions about carpenters' expertise and the supposed need for accurate, proportional daisy wheels for design purposes. Addressing these discrepancies is crucial in unraveling the true origin and purpose of these enigmatic symbols.
The third theory suggests that numerous daisy wheels may be whimsical creations, crafted by young adults or even children. It's essential to recognize the playful nature of historical individuals, acknowledging that they, too, experienced boredom and took pleasure in crafting aesthetically pleasing things. These captivating sketches from centuries past might be akin to the popular Spirograph drawing toy of the twentieth century. This notion could also account for the diverse array of compass-drawn circular symbols, which occasionally evolved beyond simple daisy wheels into intricate, interlocking designs involving numerous circles and arcs.
In some instances, a single dwelling might showcase a myriad of circular designs, ranging from concentric circles to daisy wheels, and extending to clusters of plain circles or even elaborate wreaths and chains formed with a compass. These circular motifs often coexist with other playful graffiti, such as carvings depicting people, buildings, or animals.
However, it would be a misjudgment to dismiss daisy wheels and other marks as mere frivolous doodles, even when they are likely created as such. I contend that these markings hold significance for various reasons, contributing a meaningful layer to many historic sites. They serve as poignant reminders of the genuine connections people shared with the places they inhabited, akin to other historical symbols.
The daisy wheel, when observed in mortuary settings, engraved on gravestones, or incorporated into burial practices, can be interpreted as a symbol signifying both the safeguarding of the departed soul and the protection of their earthly remains. This mystical tradition originated in the British Isles, spread throughout Europe, and eventually found its way to the colonial settlements of North America.
Although not the most prevalent motif on early colonial gravestones, the daisy wheel appears with sufficient frequency to warrant attention. Its presence suggests a deep-rooted connection to the history of graves and the protection of the deceased, a tradition that likely predates the advent of Christianity. In essence, the daisy wheel symbol has endured for centuries, and its association with the safeguarding of the dead is a testament to its enduring significance.
In conclusion, the daisy wheel not only graces the gravestones of colonial burial grounds but also boasts a rich history that spans across continents and civilizations. While many instances of the daisy wheel on graves likely served as apotropaic symbols for protection, it is conceivable that some later examples held different meanings. The allure of this symbol and other types of apotropaic marks lies in its extensive and captivating history, both in New England and around the world.
So, if you live in a historical home or venture out to a local graveyard, look around you may even find a daisy wheel or other type of apotropaic marks for yourself. I want to think of these as symbols of good luck.