“It seems to me the worst of all the plagues is the slug, the snail without a shell. He is beyond description repulsive, a mass of sooty, shapeless slime.”—Celia Thaxter
Our spring this year was exceptionally dry; gardeners were praying for rain. This past month their pleas were answered. It’s been a soggy, waterlogged July, perfect weather for slugs. These creatures are covered with mucus to prevent desiccation and slide along on a trail of slime, sensing their way with two pairs of tentacles and a radula, a tongue-like organ with teeth which shreds plant matter. Usually slugs are active at night and hide away from the daytime sun. During cloudy and rainy weather they are active all day. Young seedlings in the garden disappear, chomped to the ground. Soft fruit and sweet blooms are chewed up; the slugs slime their way up stalks and vines to reach delicacies, and hide away in the folds of lettuce and cabbage only to be discovered in the kitchen.
“The sight of a slug can bring up my breakfast.”—Jenny Eclair
In her book, An Island Garden, Celia Thaxter spoke lovingly of her flower garden on Appledore Island off the coast of Maine. Her language is full of sweetness and light until the subject of garden pests, especially slugs, arises. She was in heaven in her flower beds, seven hundred and fifty square feet of fifty-seven types of flowers that she cut to fill her house and her father’s resort hotel. But the slugs kept her awake: “I could not sleep for anxiety about the slugs.” She became a bit obsessive: “Now, every morning when I rise I go at once into the garden at four o’clock and make a business of slaughtering them till half past five when I stop for breakfast.” Finally she hired some boys on the mainland to capture some toads, which could devour scores of slugs each, every night. A crate of toads arrived and she remarked as she loosed them in her garden: “You are not handsome but you will be lovely in my sight if you will help me to destroy mine enemy.”
Slugs are important in the ecological food chain, nourishment for many animals beside the toads. Frogs, snakes, newts, beetles, fireflies (!), turtles, and birds feast on their slimy bodies. There are other methods to get rid of destructive slugs. The most widely known is a saucer of beer that attracts them to a drunken drowning. Barriers of sharp grit, such as crushed seashells, around plants can deter their soft under bellies. Grapefruit or orange halves with an opening on top, placed as a dome, are good for collecting live slugs. A wise Ashfield gardener, now gone, used to always put down diatomaceous earth, fossilized diatoms with sharp edges. There are slug control products sold. Unfortunately, some contain metaldehyde as an active ingredient, which also kills most other creatures that ingest it. Pellets with iron phosphate are much safer, but why bother when beer works.
Celia Thaxter died in 1894. Twenty years later a fire destroyed her house and garden. In 1977 her garden was resurrected by the Shoals Marine Laboratory. Visits have been suspended because of Covid but hopefully will resume next year. Until then you can read her book with illustrations by Childe Hassam and be inspired by her enthusiasm and joy. Someday take a boat ride to the Isles of Shoals, spend some time in Celia’s charming island garden, and maybe pick off a slug or two for her.
“Good morning, beloved friends. Are all things well with you? Are you tranquil and bright? And are you happy and beautiful?”—Celia Thaxter speaking to her flowers
August 2021