One of the most surprising historical facts in Andy Letcher’s cultural history of the magic mushroom, Shroom (2006/07), is that the first recorded intentional eating of a Psilocybe semilanceata in Britain was as recent as 1970. The article, by Lynn Darnton, appeared in underground magazine Oz.
The diminutive conical-hatted ‘Liberty Cap’ can be found throughout much of the island, so it’s perhaps a little surprising that there is such a recent date on its evidential record. One presumes there must have been earlier mycologically-curious British psychonauts in the 1950s and 60s, spurred on by news of magic mushrooms emanating from across the pond, yet accounts, even vague references, are scarcer than peppermint tea-induced machine elves.
There are occasional unintentional records, dating to the late eighteenth century, and there’s certainly a scattering of Amanita muscaria experiments. Yet, as Letcher notes elsewhere, there barely existed a conceptual framework to understand its effect outside poison and madness. It may have existed in unrecorded pockets of the past, but without some concrete evidence, it remains speculative. Today, in contrast, mushroom tripping with native British ‘libs’ is several generations in.
While the number of bemushroomed Brits during the early 1970s is near impossible to estimate, it is true to say that they must have gone about their business largely unhindered by the law during the early half of the decade. The 1971 Misuse of Drugs Act had, copying the language of the UN, outlawed the possession, distribution and manufacture of the key mushroom ingredients, psilocybin and psilocin, but apparently both the drug-using culture and the police were more focused on LSD.
However, if court cases and media interest are anything to go by, the spread of bemushroomed psychonauts out hunting Liberty Caps began to escalate very quickly in the latter half of the 1970s. Civil servant Michael Garland (aged 19) and his landlady Mrs Lois Wilkinson (aged 21) are usually cited as the first court appearance in April 1976. Their house was raided the prior October, but while there was a successful prosecution for cannabis found there, the mushrooms (Liberty Caps in a jar) proved something of a legal conundrum.
According to Letcher, ‘The thorny question was whether the mushrooms themselves were prohibited for, following pressure from the Mexican government (who did not want to have to waste time and resources preventing indigenous mushroom use), the Convention had listed only the mushrooms’ active ingredients.’1 The judge, Peregrine Blomefield, decided they could not. The chemical and the mushroom were not the same.
This case, however, was not the first.
In 1975, Carl Lester Fuller returned home to Rachub, near Bangor in Wales, from a trip to India with 780g of cannabis. When he got back, presumably in autumn, he found magic mushrooms growing in a field nearby and picked some. He was shortly thereafter busted by the police, yet while he pleaded guilty to importing the cannabis, he refused culpability in regard to possessing psilocin, which the mushrooms were found to contain. He told the police, ‘It’s laughable really, they are growing wild about here, anyone can pick them. They are nature’s gift to us. I had no idea they were illegal.’2
In February 1976, Detective Sergeant Michael Owen said in court that he did not know that such mushrooms grew in the area, but that he thought they were similar to the Psilocybe mushrooms described in a confidential circular sent by Scotland Yard. A Home Office analyst, Michael John Lewis, said this was the first time he had experience of these mushrooms and that 2-4g of them would be necessary to ‘produce a trip’. It was also the ‘first prosecution for this type of drug in the area’, according to magistrate Mr Kohen, who suggested that if possession of the mushrooms were themselves proscribed, then landowners could potentially be culpable. Kohen dismissed the charge.3
Oddly, when the Liverpool Daily Post reported the Garland case two months later, they referred to it as the ‘first of its kind’—evidently forgetting that they alone had already reported a different one. Nevertheless, it is also interesting to note that Scotland Yard were themselves alerting police forces around the country to the practice of eating Psilocybe mushrooms. Indeed, as we shall see, there was a very concerted effort by the police to raise awareness over the following years. Suffice to say, it would appear that they were already aware that bemushroomed trippers were heads-down in Britain.
Birmingham-based journalist, Maurice Rotheroe, was ‘relieved’ by the court decisions because his own lawn was covered by Liberty Caps every autumn—in fact, he added, they grow in many gardens and all across the country. A local ‘Underground’ magazine, he added, even published an article letting the Midlands locals know precisely where to find them.4 For him, the ‘magic mushroom’ referred to the fly agaric, rather than Liberty Cap, but he warned against eating all of them. However, he approved of the liberty of the law in its outcome, reminding his audience that, ‘toadstools won’t bite you – if you don’t bite them!’5 Such an enlightened general opinion, that it was down to the discretion of the individual, seems to have completely vanished since.
Mushroom picking continued to spread rapidly across Britain. The countercultural press certainly helped with this. Home Grown magazine featured a double-page spread in 1977 on psilocybin. Mushrooms were used, the article suggests, in the ‘brew of Cerridwen’, carried by Merlin and other enchanters in powder form, were the magical ingredient in the ‘special mead of the bards’ (i.e. brewed in honey), and was in the ritual drink in the Beaker people’s famous cups.6 This myco-mythologizing speaks for a desire to embed the mushroom within British counterculture—to nativize the practice.
Psilocybe mushrooms were not an exotic rarity from Mexico, but grew in Britain, and ‘Now that public realization of this fact has taken place, the consequences are irreversible, and the implications far-reaching. The key to the door of fairy land is now within one’s reach. Let us hope the public will use it with the respect due to a sacramental substance.’ The article then discusses the legality – mentions the recent Garland case and provides dose and effect descriptions, along with preparation. It names, Psilocybe semilanceata and Panaeolus soenisecii as candidates.
As knowledge spread, more court cases appeared and 1978 was a benchmark year in regard to sheer volume. One reason proffered by the newspapers was that since the Microdot Gang was busted in Operation Julie, young people were turning to mushrooms for lack of LSD.7 There may be some truth in this, but evidently the means and knowledge of the magic mushroom had been spreading even before the bust—and new sources of LSD quickly emerged to replace those that were lost. Regardless, all the corners of the United Kingdom were picking.
In April 1978 in Stirling, Scotland, Stuart Douglas Frame, a student at Stirling University, was in court for the possession of cannabis and mushrooms. Frame claimed to be very interested in mushrooms, and had picked some at his girlfriend’s family’s farm in Kent. Thinking them unusual, he took them home to dry and added them to his collection. He was let off the charges. Typically, as we’ve seen, mushroom possession charges were a by-product of cannabis busts. Interestingly here, however, the law was still not fully settled, as it was fine at this point if they were dried (i.e. prepared).8
As mushroom season started in September 1978, the Western Daily Press (covering South-West England) helpfully reported that magic mushrooms were growing around Taunton and on Exmoor, adding that young people were taking trips and there was nothing the police could do about it. They mentioned one youth who was due in court for possessing them and other drugs, who was expected to argue that mushrooms had led onto taking other substances. The deputy head of Taunton police, Superintendent Bob Bruford, told the paper: ‘I know people do take them but how big a problem it is I could not say, I think people who use it are at risk.’9
In Northern Ireland, the RUC drug chief, Inspector George McBridge, stated in October 1978 that ‘hundreds’ of young people were picking mushrooms in parks and fields, erroneously warning that it was only a matter of time before someone took too many and died. He had recently attended a conference of police drug chiefs in England where the matter of magic mushrooms had been on the agenda, and was becoming a major concern, noting, however, that it was perfectly legal to possess or sell them.10 Apparently, the conference led a wave of officers talking to their local presses, which itself fueled knowledge of the Psilocybe mushroom.
An unnamed drug squad officer spoke to the Liverpool Daily Post two days earlier warning that North-West England could be in for an ‘LSD style’ drug boom over the coming months. Using the same talking points as Inspector McBridge, the officer also cited a recent case in the Leigh and Wigan area when eight young people were recovering after they ‘fell ill’ taking magic mushrooms at a disco.11 The teenagers, aged 15 to 19, were hospitalized due to ‘severe nausea, acute dizziness, and bizarre hallucinations.’ In another recent case, Robert Card, aged 25, was fined £25 (presumably for disorderly behaviour) when he wandered up to a policeman and said, ‘I’m high on mushrooms and I am Jesus.’12
A similar story was playing out cross-country in the North-East too during 1978. Citing a recent regional case in Hexham, Tyneside, when the same legal loophole was locally revealed, the Newcastle Evening Chronicle reported how 6 men had recently been arrested in a field on suspicion of possessing drugs. While cannabis had been found on one of them, the question of mushrooms was utmost in the minds of those concerned. One of the men, Peter Joseph Howard, told police they were gathering Liberty Caps.13
In fact, the police were first alerted by the farmer, Mr Fenwick of Park Head Farm, who said his fields were being ‘invaded’ and that he intended to take action against them for trespassing, asking the Agricultural Minister to protect farmers from the mushroom pickers. He claimed that once five car loads of people, including parents and children, turned up. And one time a group told him they were picking mushrooms for a pop festival down south. Walls in his farm had been damaged, litter left everywhere that could harm his dairy cattle, and pickers might potentially be bringing disease too.14
Sir Walter Stansfield, Chief Constable of Derbyshire Police, said in his report for 1978 (released in September 1979) that not only had LSD made a reappearance after a period of absence (presumably caused by Operation Julie), but that the Psilocybe mushrooms were now being ‘abused’. There were apparently 9 seizures of the mushroom that year, and the paper usefully added that they tended to grow in the north-west of the country.15
In amongst cannabis busts, the police were also ‘monitoring the abuse of “magic mushrooms” which grow well throughout Devon.’ Police across the whole country were apparently ‘monitoring’ the situation, and if widespread ‘misuse’ was detected, then the Home Office would seek to bring them under controlled status.16 Behind the scenes, Establishment Britain was mobilizing.
The following year, 1979, brought about an information campaign from the media—giving trippers precisely the information they needed. The Bedfordshire on Sunday not only informed its readers of the ‘Magic Mushroom’ being a Liberty Cap, also giving its scientific name, but they provided a handy photograph of what they looked like (picked!), adding that they were legal.
‘It takes about 25 of them’ the paper wrote, ‘to produce a hallucinogenic experience and they are ground up for use in tea or soup.’ One user told the paper that they only become illegal to possess when prepared, and that people were turning to mushrooms as a result of not being able to get LSD. People were quietly gathering them throughout Bedfordshire, they were told.17
In the same year, three people picking ‘wild mushrooms’ in Sutton Park, Birmingham, were taken to hospital, ‘suffering from hallucinations but were not seriously ill and were not detained.’ The apparently naive park manager claimed to not realise that certain wild mushrooms could have such an effect. The secretary for the Sutton Coldfield Natural History Society commented that Fly Agaric grew in the park, and could cause hallucinations. One of the hospitalized individuals said he had a handful of mushrooms, so one presumes they were in fact the much smaller Liberty Cap. Another, Robert, felt numb and ‘houses started chasing me as I ran home… I will not eat them again’, he added.18
Meanwhile, during this late 1970s period in Britain, the Welsh Psilocybin festivals were also gathering pace as hippies gathered to celebrate the beginning of mushroom season.19 It is unsurprising that the counterculture, police, courts and media focus on mushrooms should gather momentum in tandem. What is interesting, however, is that such a mixed picture emerges in regard to legality. Rather than simply thinking of a single case setting a precedent, it might be more fruitful to consider them a series of localized test cases—not only in regard to the status of Psilocybe mushrooms but also their state of preparedness. The police, hands seemingly tied, instead talked widely to the press, ironically playing their part in spreading the mushroom gospel.
These questions would be settled more succinctly, for a time, in the 1980s, which alongside the rise of home grown mushrooms, tells a slightly different story. I will discuss these in my next article. Suffice to say, the numbers of mushroom pickers must have been quite considerable, spreading as it did across most corners of the country by 1980.
If anyone has any experience of picking Psilocybe mushrooms during this period, or earlier, in Britain, and wanted to share your story, please do get in touch here, I’d be delighted to hear from you.
Letcher, A (2007) Shroom. New York: Harper Collins. 241
“Mushrooms’ in a field are controlled drug’ in Liverpool Daily Post: 4 February 1976. 3
Ibid.
It’s not clear which publication this was. Any Birmingham-based counterculture collectors please do get in touch!
Rotheroe, M (1976) ‘At Liberty… the Dangerous Toadstool’ in Birmingham Evening Mail: 15 April 1976. 7
Home Grown: Issue 2, 18-19
‘Drug Takers ‘Go for Mushrooms” in Belfast Telegraph: 24 May 1978. 5
“Mushroom’ Drug Student Cleared’ in The Scotsman: 21 April 1978
‘Magic Fungus Danger’ in Western Morning News: 9 September 1978
‘Death Warning on New Drug Craze’ in Belfast Telegraph: 19 October 1978. 1, 4
‘Menace of the Magic Mushroom’ in Liverpool Daily Post: 17 October 1978. 3
‘Mushroom Drug Nightmare’ in Manchester Evening News: 16 October 1978. 1
‘Mushrooms – Just for Kicks!’ in Newcastle Evening Chronicle: 6 December 1978. 1
Ibid.
‘Drug takers switch on with wild mushrooms’ in Burton Daily Mail: 27 September 1979. 1
‘Police Seize Torbay Cannabis Plants’ in Torbay Herald Express: 23 May 1979. 1
‘Drug Users Turn to Mind Bending Mushrooms’ in Bedfordshire on Sunday: 18 November 1979. 10
‘Alert after three have mushroom ‘dreams” in Birmingham Evening Mail: 23 November 1979. 39
Robert, A (2016) Acid Drops: Adventures in Psychedelia. Falmouth: Psychedelic Press. 87-98
Shrooms were certainly being used as early as the late 1950s. Poet Dave Cunliffe was a runner for a London gang in the late 50s and gave me the first (to me) known example of recreational acid dealing. He also told me, and I think this is in Albion Dreaming, that he was also using P Sem around that time. In West Yorkshire the P. Sem wave suddenly hit in 1975/6. Prior to that no one ever mentioned them and then suddenly the fields edging the moors above Hebden Bridge and Todmorden were full of heads down hippies, picking and grinning. This may possibly have been the result of the Hassle Free Press Psilocybin mushroom guide that came out around that time.
The possibility of use of Liberty Caps pre-Wasson is intriguing. It is striking that psilocybe semilanceata managed to acquire the moniker, Liberty Cap, that is evocative of its psychoactive effects. Many mushrooms have acquired some interesting common names, but going through the index of one of my British mushroom identification books, I spotted only two others that stood out as evocative of mind altering effects - Witches Butter, which apparently does not have psychoactive effects, but has some medicinal uses and a consistency similar to butter; and Laughing Jim, which also contains psilocybin, and I think the common name is a recent one due to observations of uncontrollable laughter.
The mundane explanation for the liberty cap, that it resembles an item of headwear with the same name, does not quite capture just how striking this synchronicity(?) is (that its name evokes its psychoactive effects).
As somebody writing in the Worcestershire Naturalists' Club remarked in 1914 (found in snippet view on google books), "I am at a loss to say why this latter has obtained an English name" - basically saying that there are tons of anonymous little brown mushrooms, yet this one managed to rise above anonymity.
Maybe somehow the mushroom was calling out to be noticed in some sense. Or maybe there is some forgotten vernacular use.