The AGRIMONY. This plant, the _Agrimonia Eupatoria_ of botan

ART-STUDIES FROM NATURE,

As applied to Design:

_FOR THE USE OF_

ARCHITECTS, DESIGNERS, AND MANUFACTURERS.

COMPRISED IN FOUR PAPERS BY

F. E. HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A.;

J. GLAISHER, F.R.S.;

S. J. MACKIE, F.G.S., F.S.A.;

ROBERT HUNT, F.R.S.

REPRINTED FROM THE ART-JOURNAL.

_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS ON WOOD._

LONDON:

VIRTUE & CO., 26, IVY LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW.

1872.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO.,

CITY ROAD.

PREFACE.

Nature may be studied in many aspects; her wealth of service and beauty

is freely open to all who seek; and while the man of science, by patient

study and assiduous toil, may learn something of her mystery, and gather

from her not unwilling hands rich treasure of knowledge for the benefit

of humanity (for without the midnight watch and the elaborate

calculation of the astronomer navigation would yet be in its infancy;

without the enthusiasm of the botanist as he toils in the tropic forest

the virtues of many a healing plant would be unknown; without the keen

perception of the geologist the miner’s task would be in vain), so the

man of art in no less degree may find in her study richest elements of

beauty, loveliest suggestions of colour, forms of infinite grace. A

delight in the study of Nature, a desire to realise something of its

grandeur, is a source of unbounded pleasure to its possessor, for to him

no walk can be a weariness, no season of the year dreary, no soil so

sterile as to be barren of interest:--

“The meanest flow’ret of the vale,

The simplest note that swells the gale,

The common sun, the air, the skies,

To him are opening Paradise.”

The lichen on the rock, the wayside grass, the many-coloured fungi, are

no less full of beauty than the forms that more ordinarily attract

attention, and are no less worthy of study. “The works of the Lord are

great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein;” and Nature

has ever to the devout mind, from its own inherent beauty and its

testimony to Him its creator and sustainer, been a study of the deepest

interest. Some who glance over these opening remarks before entering

upon the search for such material in the body of the book as may seem

available for their immediate purpose, may consider that this view of

the subject is unpractical; but we would remind such that all art,

pictorial, sculptural, decorative, or what not, is only noble and worthy

of the name so far as it affords food for thought in the spectator, and

testifies to thought in the artist, and that the nobility of the work is

in direct proportion to such evidence of inner life. Art that is

æsthetic and sensuous, though pleasing to the eye, must ever in the

nature of things hold a subordinate place to that art which is symbolic,

to those forms in which an inner meaning may be traced; and though one

work of art may perhaps necessarily contain less of this reflected

thought than another, yet this proposition we think will hold good, that

no work of art that does not in some way testify to this can be

altogether satisfactory, for while pleasing for a time to the eye, it

yet leaves the mind unsatisfied: the reverse will equally hold good, and

we may safely repeat that in proportion to the thought bestowed and

expressed by the artist will be the enjoyment and profit to be derived

by others from it. The true artist will not consider with how small

expenditure of trouble he may attain his end; he will, on the contrary,

have a heart full of sympathy with all that is beautiful. This will

become a wealth of knowledge, will prove a precious possession to

himself, and the result must be visible in his work, and stamp it with

Promethean fire. To the artist then who is worthy of the name, nothing

can be too petty for regard, nothing that the Creator has pronounced

“very good” too insignificant for notice; for in Nature beauty is

scattered with a lavish hand, and the fungus that passes through all the

stages of its existence during a summer’s night, and the snow-flake

still more transient in its duration--

“Frail, but a work divine:

Made so fairily well,

So exquisitely minute,

A miracle of design”--

have a charm of their own no less than the higher forms, while to give

but one other example from the many that present themselves, the

_Foraminifera_--animal remains met with in chalk cliffs--though only

visible with high microscopic power, have the curves of their shells as

graceful, designs as varied, markings as intricate, as perhaps any other

natural objects whatsoever. We therefore appreciate the quaint fancy,

the studied thought of the designer who in some old glass that we have

noticed at Ockham Church, in Surrey, while making some of his quarry

designs of columbine, rose, and other lovely forms, chose for one of

them a little fungus surrounded by cup moss, and springing from the

turf; frail creatures of a day, meet emblems--like the withering grass,

the fading flower--of the short estate of man, the transience of all

his glory.

In the endeavour to suggest something of these humbler types of beauty

to the artist, the designer, the architect, and the manufacturer, the

following papers have been collected from the pages of the

_Art-Journal_, the periodical in which they originally appeared, and

after careful revision by their several writers, have been published in

this detached form, in order that they may be still more commonly

accessible.

The first article is an endeavour on the part of the author to indicate

something of the profusion of beautiful form that may be met with in our

hedges and skirting our roadsides, to point out the source from whence

the mediæval artists gathered their inspiration, and to plead for its

greater use by their successors, that by a like loving appreciation we

too may create like forms of beauty.

The second essay deals with marine forms of vegetable life, and dwells

on the immense variety of form that may be met with in the sea-weeds

that surround our shores, and the applicability of many of the species

to the varied purposes of the designer. It is curious that these

wonderful forms should not have been employed more largely in the

decorative work of any people. With the exception of the singularly

waved and bossed foliage seen in the stone carving and metal-work of the

later years of the Decorated period of Gothic, and which may possibly

have been originally suggested by the _Fucus vesiculosus_, one of our

commonest shore weeds, we know of no instance of their introduction into

ornamental art. Hence here at once a wide field is open to the

designer, and this essay cannot fail to be full of valuable material.

As the first and second articles have striven to illustrate the

beautiful forms that inhabit the land and the sea respectively, so the

third article, leaving

“The deep’s untrampled floor

With green and purple sea-weeds strewn,”

and the more familiar forms of earth, deals with those delicate forms of

the air, the flakes of falling snow, and points out the immense variety

of graceful forms afforded by their crystals.

Symmetry and geometry are both so commonly met with in ornamental art,

and are also so conspicuously present in the forms of snow crystals,

that the application of those forms to design cannot fail to follow when

once their beauties are brought under the notice of the designer and

manufacturer.

Symmetry shows itself in a general beauty of proportion, and balance of

masses in a composition; or, in the more limited sense in which we now

use the word, in the likeness of one half or part to another in the unit

of design. We speak of a design being bi-symmetrical or tri-symmetrical,

or if it goes beyond this, as in snow crystals and in many other cases

where the ornament may be bounded by a circle, it is termed

multi-symmetrical. Bi-symmetrical arrangements will be found most

appropriate for the decoration of upright surfaces, as wall-papers or

curtains, which will always be seen one way, while multi-symmetrical

star-like forms are more suitable for floor-cloth or carpet patterns,

because a star-like pattern on the floor looks equally well from all

parts of the room; while a design having its halves merely alike can

only be viewed to advantage from one point. It is curious to observe

that in Nature the rule seems to be that the lower forms shall be

multi-symmetrical, made up of several similar parts, while the higher

forms of life are bi-symmetrical: thus in the first class we get snow

crystals, sea-anemones, star-fishes; and in the second, the more

advanced forms of animal life--insects, birds, quadrupeds, and man

himself. There are numerous exceptions, however, to this: thus we have

flowers multi-symmetrical, and their leaves only alike in their halves,

though undoubtedly the flower, in view of its functions in vegetable

physiology, and also from the ornamentist’s stand-point, cannot be

considered lower in the scale of creation than the leaf. The charm

produced by the mere repetition of parts may be well seen in the

kaleidoscope, where a series of irregular pieces of glass develop into

various ornamental forms, owing to their symmetrical arrangement and

radiation from one centre--an effect still more clearly and beautifully

seen in the crystals of snow, where the unit is itself of pleasing form.

The influence of geometry upon design has in almost all periods of art

been very marked--in some styles, as the Early English Gothic, and the

Italian of the thirteenth century, much more so than in others; but in

no style is it altogether ignored. Whether we study the examples of

decorative art produced in our midst, the result of modern skill; or

turn to the remains of Egyptian and Assyrian ornament, the brain-work

and handiwork of men who toiled thousands of years ago, or whether we

contrast the delicacy of much of our English work with the rude carving

or pottery of the South Sea Islander, we still cannot fail to notice

that amidst much that is very marked and distinctive in comparing one

period with another, or the handiwork of one race or nation with

another, this one great principle of the adaptation of geometry to

ornament is exhibited more or less prominently in all. Where a sense of

flatness is desirable, as in designs for floor-coverings--as mosaic,

tile-work, carpeting, &c.--the use of geometrical forms appears

especially appropriate, since the feeling of flatness is easily

obtainable, and yet, accompanying this essential feature, almost any

degree of complexity and richness of effect. These remarks upon the use

of geometry must, however, be considered to apply more especially to the

simpler kinds of design, to those intended to fill but a subordinate

place. As we rise higher, geometry, though still valuable in the setting

out and defining of leading lines and masses, gives place to higher

forms, those based on animal or vegetable life. In a fourteenth-century

diaper the part we admire is not the geometric basis of the design, but

the delicate filling in of oak or maple, buttercup or ivy, though we

unconsciously admire this the more on account of the enclosing straight

lines--lines that we should at once miss if they were removed as

superfluous.

The fourth essay of our series deals with the suggestive ornamental

forms so freely met with in organic remains. As in the previous essay we

found in the clouds above forms of beauty well adapted for our needs as

ornamentists, so in this one we delve beneath the surface of our earth,

and again have the lesson impressed upon us, that in every situation

forms of beauty abound, that the world is full of suggestive material

for the student of ornamental art, and that in what at first sight

appears a barren and profitless waste, fresh proof is given of the

universal reign of law, order, and beauty throughout the whole range of

creation. These four essays, then, should prove a welcome addition to

the ornamentist’s store of material, since (though no book-work can take

the place of actual observation) they may at least suggest to him other

forms, and cause him to turn his attention in fresh directions. With

this hope, then, we conclude, trusting that our efforts thus to

illustrate in some degree the wealth of Nature may not have been

altogether in vain.

F. E. H.

CONTENTS.

I. PAGE

THE ADAPTABILITY OF OUR NATIVE PLANTS TO THE

PURPOSES OF ORNAMENTAL ART. By F. EDWARD

HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A. 1

II.

SEA-WEEDS AS OBJECTS OF DESIGN. By S. J. MACKIE,

F.G.S., F.S.A. 91

III.

THE CRYSTALS OF SNOW AS APPLIED TO THE PURPOSES

OF DESIGN. By JAMES GLAISHER, F.R.S. 133

IV.

THE SYMMETRICAL AND ORNAMENTAL FORMS OF ORGANIC

REMAINS. By ROBERT HUNT, F.R.S. 177

I.

THE ADAPTABILITY OF OUR NATIVE PLANTS TO THE PURPOSES OF ORNAMENTAL ART.

BY EDWARD HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A.

In this series of papers it will be our desire to direct the attention

of the architect, manufacturer, and designer, to some of the beautiful

forms of nature, which, though easily accessible, seem to have scarcely

received the consideration they deserve; to give a brief account of the

habits, peculiarities, and localities of the plants as they come before

us; to cite from time to time examples, either English or foreign, of

their use in the ornament of the past; and generally to add such details

as may directly or indirectly tend to create an interest in the plant in

question. We find, on looking back at the past history and practice of

ornamental art, in the midst of many marked differences of style, one

principle very generally observed--the use in the ornament of any given

country of the plants familiar to the people. Hence, the Egyptians

exclusively used in their ornament the plants of their own land; we see

the palm branch, the papyrus, and the beautiful lily of the Nile

constantly recurring. We find the Greeks and Romans employing the

acanthus, olive, and vine; the Japanese, the light and graceful bamboo;

and in our own Gothic styles and those of the Continent--French, German,

or Spanish--we meet with more or less conventionalised representations

in the carvings, paintings, illuminations, fabrics for dress, hangings,

&c., of the familiar forms of our hedgerows, streams, and meadows, such

as the wild rose, oak, maple, iris, buttercup, and many others. It is

then with the desire to awaken our decorators to the fact, that

beautiful as the Greek _anthemion_ and other allied forms are, they by

no means represent the limit available in ornamental art, that the

following papers have been prepared, since we are persuaded that if once

the inexhaustible riches of nature were sought after by our architects,

and their beauties brought before the eyes of the people in their work,

architecture would thus be taking one long step nearer to the sympathies

and appreciation of many to whom it is now a matter of indifference. The

works of a few of our leading architects owe at least some of their

beauty to their recognition of this truth; and we would desire, while

acknowledging the services rendered to architecture by such men as

Pugin, Collings, Street, and Gilbert Scott, to add our mite to the

revival going on around us.

Botany, or the study of plants (Gr. _botane_, a plant), is capable of

many subdivisions: thus we have one department which, from its dealing

with the vital functions of the plant, we term physiology (Gr. _physis_,

nature--_logos_, science); another which, from its more especially

dealing with the organization and structure of the plant, is called

organography, or structural botany; while a third great division,

systematic botany, derives its name from its teaching how the

multifarious forms of vegetable life may yet be classified into genera,

and these again into orders and species from certain points of

resemblance in the plants thus classed together. Botany, in itself a

science in the ordinary use of the term, may, however, render valuable

service to art; and it is this phase of the subject which we more

especially propose to develop, treating only of the more exclusively

scientific points so far as we find them necessary for our present

purpose; and in this we think we are fully justified, for though numbers

of excellent works are accessible to the student who desires to study

botany as a science, but few fully recognise its importance in a

modified form to the art-student, and more especially to the designer.

To the ornamentist a knowledge of the laws of plant growth is of really

the same importance as the study of anatomy to the figure-painter or

sculptor, and the absence of this knowledge is to the initiated, in

either case, as readily detected. Many who are now content to forego

this precise knowledge are no doubt partly debarred by the

technicalities which meet them at every sentence in ordinary botanical

works. Bearing in mind, therefore, the special requirements of our

readers, we shall endeavour to avoid as far as possible the use of terms

which, though scientifically valuable, and in fact essential to correct

and true description, are not such as we may reasonably assume our

readers, without special botanical study, to be familiar with. A

knowledge of these terms is, however, very desirable, since their

conciseness renders them valuable, and more especially, also, because

many excellent works, which it will be of advantage to the student to

consult, largely employ them. We trust that in the few cases where such

terms are in the present work introduced, a clear explanation of their

force and utility will be found to accompany them; we shall also, as a

further assistance, add the source from whence the term is derived,

wherever the introduction will tend to throw additional light on the

meaning of the word.

As we cannot hope, in the limited space at our command, to supply every

requirement, give every detail, or bring forward more than a few of the

more common plants, the present work must be considered rather as a

suggestive list of the more striking plants which, from their ornamental

characteristics, will, we trust, be found of service to designers, than

an exhaustive catalogue. It is very far indeed from being a complete

list.

To render the work as practically useful as possible, we add to each

plant mentioned the names of some standard books in which reliable

drawings of the plant in question may be found; for though nature should

always, if possible, be consulted, it may not at all times be within the

power of the student to do so, owing to press of work, the season of the

year, and many other disturbing causes.

The following books are thus referred to, the illustrations in them

being of a trustworthy character. After the name of each book is the

abbreviation used in the present work when it is necessary to quote

it:--

The Flora Londinensis of Curtis. First Edition F. L.

Medical Botany. Woodville. First Edition M. B.

Medical Botany. Stephenson and Churchill. First Edition S. C.

Illustrations of Natural Orders of Plants. E. Twining T. N. O.

English Botany. Sowerby. Third Edition E. B.

Vegetable World. Figuier V. W.

School Botany. Lindley S. B.

Woodlands, Heaths, and Hedges. Coleman W. H. H.

Grammar of Ornament. Owen Jones G. O.

The first five on this list have coloured plates. To these we may be

allowed to add Plant Form (P. F.), a work prepared by the author for the

especial use of designers.

The plants described in the following pages are, to facilitate

reference, arranged in regular alphabetical sequence, according to their

English names, since most of my readers will more readily recognise a

plant by its familiar title than by its botanical appellation. Thousands

are familiar with the little daisy who would never recognise it in any

description headed _Bellis perennis_. At the same time, we in every case

give the scientific nomenclature as well, since in most works you may

desire to consult, that will be of greater prominence than the one used

colloquially. A difficulty here arises from the fact that several of our

English flowers have numerous synonyms given to them; we have, however,

chosen the name which we believe to be most commonly used, referring

also to the others in the course of our remarks on the plant.

In the introduction of vegetable growth into any ornamental composition,

we must be careful to remember that what is wanted is not so much a

direct imitation of nature, which after all can only be faulty at the

best, as a due adaptation of the natural form to the purpose of our

design--a recognition of the impossibility of a close copy of nature,

together with a feeling of its undesirableness even if it could be

accomplished. Our representations must therefore be more or less

conventional: in a flower-painting we naturally expect to see a direct

transcript of nature, while in decorative art a direct transcript

offends us.

“In the multitude of counsellors there is safety;” we will, therefore,

here quote some few passages from the works of those whom we think we

can all agree are entitled to speak with authority and to be heard with

respect. Ruskin, in speaking on this subject, says,--“All noble

ornamentation is the expression of man’s delight in God’s work;” and

again, “Ornamentation should be natural, that is to say, should in some

degree express or adopt the beauty of natural objects; it does not hence

follow that it should be an exact imitation of, or endeavour to

supersede, God’s work; it may consist only in a partial adoption of, and

compliance with, the usual forms of natural things, without at all going

to the point of imitation, and it is possible that the point of

imitation may be closely reached by ornaments which nevertheless are

entirely unfit for their place, and are the signs only of a degraded

ambition and an ignorant dexterity. Bad decorators err as easily on the

side of imitating nature as of forgetting her, and the question of the

exact degree in which imitation should be attempted under given

circumstances is one of the most subtle and difficult in the whole range

of criticism.” Wornum thus defines the difference between naturalism and

conventionalism: “A natural treatment implies natural imitation and

arrangement, but an ornamental treatment does not necessarily exclude

imitation in the parts, as, for instance, a scroll may be composed of

strictly natural parts, but as no plant would grow in an exactly spiral

direction, the scroll form constitutes the ornamental or conventional

arrangement; we may, however, have conventionalism of details as well as

conventionalism of arrangement.” Hudson says,--“There is a great

difference between the terms applied and adapted; they, in fact, express

the wrong and the right use of vegetable forms. All natural forms

require certain modifications to adapt them for other than their own

natural situations, and it is the neglect of this, and the simple

application of these forms without adapting them, which constitute a

false principle.” Dresser thus illustrates the difference: “Mere

imitation is not ornamentation, and is no more art in the higher sense

of the term than writing is itself literature. Vegetable nature treated

conventionally will not be found to be far removed from truth, but will

be merely a natural form, or a series of natural forms, neither marred

by blights nor disturbed by winds, adapted to the fulfilment of a

special purpose, and suited to a particular position--for the most

perfect examples of what is usually termed conventionalised nature are

those which express the intention of nature, if we may thus speak, or

are manifestations of natural objects as undisturbed by surrounding

influences and unmarred by casualties.” In the same way we might bring

forward passages from the works of Owen Jones, Sir Gardiner Wilkinson,

and many others, in illustration of our remarks; enough, however, has,

we trust, been brought forward to confirm the position taken up.

We will now, without further prelude, proceed to the brief

consideration of the few representative plants we have selected for our

remarks.

The AGRIMONY. This plant, the _Agrimonia Eupatoria_ of botanists, and

the Agremoine of old writers, is ordinarily met with in hedgerows and

waste places by the roadside. The flowers are bright yellow, and are

arranged in what is termed botanically a spike (Lat. _spica_, an ear of

corn; when the flowers grow in succession direct from a central stem).

The leaves are very ornamental in character, the central line giving off

large side leaflets, and the intermediate spaces being filled by smaller

ones. The edges of all the leaves are deeply serrate (Lat. _serra_, a

saw; notched like the teeth of a saw). Very suitable and suggestive for

lace or wall-papers, where a somewhat delicate form with a decidedly

upright mode of growth is desirable. Drawings of the plant may be seen

in S. B. 126; E. B. 417; F. L. vol. v. 32; and M. B. 258. The natural

plant will be found in flower during July and August.

The WHITE or WOOD ANEMONE (_Anemone nemorosa_), or, as it is often

termed in old botanical works, the Wind-flower. This older name refers

to the same fact alluded to in its generic name, _Anemone_, the

fragility and delicacy of the flowers, and their exposure to the bleak

and boisterous winds that sweep through the almost leafless woods in

early spring, or, as others believe, from an old fancy that the flowers

will not open until buffeted by the gales of March, _anemone_ being

derived from the Greek word, _anemos_, the wind. The second name,

_nemorosa_, signifies woody, and bears obvious reference to the

localities most favourable to

[Illustration: _Anemone._]

the growth of the anemone. The plant may be found in flower during the

months of March, April, and May, the blossoms being pure white, with a

bright yellow centre, and the outer surface of the sepals of a delicate

purple tinge. It abounds in moist woods throughout the country,

generally in such profusion as to cover large tracts of ground with a

snowy whiteness; and the plant being perennial, we shall, when it is

once established in any spot, find it regularly recurring as each

spring-time comes round. The manner of growth of the anemone is very

distinct and characteristic, and not being subject to any variation,

cannot well be modified in the employment of the plant in ornamental

art without destroying its individuality, as from the single stem thrown

up from the ground three equal-sized leaves, identical in form, are

produced from a point about six inches from the soil, and the stalk is

then continued for about the same distance again before bearing at its

summit its single flower; each and every plant, therefore, consists of a

central stem, a terminal flower, and about midway up the stem a group of

three leaves. This rigid law, though extremely beautiful in itself, and

admirably adapted for treatment for some ornamental purposes, may,

perhaps, somewhat restrict its use in decorative art. We are not aware

of any examples of its employment in past art. In our illustration, the

plan of the plant, the view with which we are most familiar, as we see

it in its natural position, is shown, having the single central flower,

and below it the three leaves radiating from the stem. It will be found

that this strong individuality of growth more especially adapts itself

to the trefoil, or any other form based on the figure three.[A] The

garden-anemone (_A. coronaria_) is an allied species of the same family,

modified by cultivation: in its wild state it is a native of the South

of Europe.

The ARROW-HEAD (_Sagittaria sagittifolia_), one of our most beautiful

aquatic plants, must be so well known to our readers that any lengthened

description of it will be superfluous. Its generic, specific, and

English names all alike point out its leading characteristic, the

beautiful arrow-headed shape of its leaves;--_sagitta_, Lat., an arrow.

The calyx and corolla are each composed of three parts, the petals being

a brilliant white, with a pale pink irregular blotch at their bases. The

forms of the flowers, fruit, and leaves are all equally adapted for

decorative purposes, though it does not appear to have received in the

past the attention which its merits might very fairly claim, the only

instances of its application in ornamental art with which we are

acquainted being in a running band of ornament round a tomb, fourteenth

century, in the cloisters, Burgos. The flowers are incorrectly

represented in that example as having four petals, but the general

effect is, nevertheless, very good. See E. B. 1436 and P. F. 72 for

drawings of the natural plant.

[Illustration: _Arrow-head._]

The ARUM (_Arum maculatum_) is a plant of very common occurrence

throughout England, though rarely to be found either in Scotland or

Ireland. It may be met with in shady groves and thickets, and nestled

among the long grass and other herbage upon our hedge-banks. The plant

will be found in flower during April and May; but from the mode of

growth, and also from the pale green colour of the spathe surrounding

the central organs, it is by no means conspicuous among the surrounding

foliage. The upper portion of the central body or spadix--that part of

it which is seen in our illustration--is generally of a dark crimson

colour. The plant is far more likely to attract attention in the autumn

and winter than during its season of flowering, as towards the close of

the year the leaves of the arum die away, and the hedgerows also being

stripped of the greater part of their

[Illustration: _Arum._]

foliage, we notice the brilliant scarlet berries of the present plant

rising in a dense mass to the height of some three or four inches from

the ground. If the fresh root of the plant be tasted, it excites a

burning and pricking sensation in the mouth that will remain for several

hours; and if sliced and applied to the skin, it will frequently produce

blisters. This virulence, however, like the acrimonious principle met

with in the leaves, yields to the influence of heat, and in former times

an excellent starch was prepared from the root. In the writings of the

old medical authors and poets we meet with the wild arum under a great

variety of names, many of them, through the lapse of time and from

disuse, being now meaningless to us; such, for example, as abron, janus,

barba-aron, calf’s-foot, ramp, and wake-robin. A very common name for

the plant at the present day with country children is lords-and-ladies;

and an equally familiar name, both with children and also in

descriptions of the plant in botanical works, is the cuckoo-pint: this

may possibly allude to the slight resemblance of the enclosing spathe to

a measure for liquids. Another old name for the plant is the starchwort,

in obvious allusion to its domestic use. Like most other plants, it was

held by the medical practitioners of the Middle Ages to possess very

considerable and valuable remedial qualities. A small portion of the

leaf, either dried or in the green state, was esteemed a sure remedy for

the plague or any poison. “The water wherein the root hath been boiled,

dropped into the eyes, cleanseth them from any film or mists which begin

to hinder the sight,” or under circumstances to which the writer

delicately hints, “when, by some chance, they become black and blue.”

Though the bold, simple forms of the flower and bud and the rich

arrow-headed shape of the leaves appear, in an especial manner, to fit

it for valuable service in ornamental art, it has been but very rarely

thus employed. Illustrations of the natural growth of the plant will be

found in F. L. vol. ii. 63; S. C. 22; and P. F. 41.

The AVENS (_Geum urbanum_), belonging to the same natural order,

_Rosaceæ_, as the tormentil and wood-strawberry, possesses also the same

peculiarity of flower, the petals being five in number, while the calyx

is composed of five large segments, alternating with five others of a

much smaller size. The root is very astringent in its nature, and of

sufficient value to be included in the Materia Medica. The avens may be

generally found growing in hedges and woods, flowering during June and

July, and attaining to a height of from one to two feet. The leaves are

very ornamental in character, and will, equally with the flowers, prove

of valuable service to the designer. For illustrations of the growth of

the plant refer to F. L. vol. ii. 36, and P. F. 81.

[Illustration: _Avens._]

BEDSTRAW (_Galium verum_). This is also known as cheese rennet, gallion,

and maid-hair. The word bedstraw is in allusion to the former use of the

dried plant as a cheap material in forming beds. The name cheese-rennet

is derived from a bygone employment of the plant for curdling milk: we

see this same use of the plant referred to in the generic term _Galium_,

that name being derived from the Greek word for milk. Gallion is

evidently a herbalist’s corruption of _Galium_, while the fourth name,

maid-hair, has obvious reference to the lightness and delicacy of the

plant. The minute yellow flowers grow in dense heads of blossom, while

the leaves are in whorls, that is to say, several starting from the same

level, and thus growing in a succession of rings round the stems. The

number of the leaves in a ring is very variable; from eight to twelve

is, however, the usual number. Dry banks are the ordinary habitat of the

plant. It will be found in flower throughout June, July, and August.

Its lightness and graceful mode of growth admirably fit it for the

purposes of the designer. For illustrations of the bedstraw refer to E.

B. 648, or F. L. vol. vi. 13. The old herb-doctors, ever ready to find

or make a medicinal use, speak in high commendation of the present plant

for its reputed efficacy in relieving pains from burns, inward wounds,

&c., while “a decoction of the herb is good to bathe the feet of

travellers and lacquies, whose long running causeth weariness and

stiffness in their sinews.”

[Illustration: _Bindweed._]

The BINDWEED, botanically known as the _Calystegia sepium_, is one of

our most familiar plants; large surfaces of our hedgerows (Lat. _sepe_,

a hedge) being covered by its graceful leaves and tubular flowers. It is

a curious fact that, though abundant throughout England and Ireland, it

is very local in Scotland. The so-called convolvulus major of the

garden is the _Ipomæa purpurea_, a species very widely spread over the

tropical and temperate regions of the earth. Many of the family possess

active medicinal qualities, and preparations from them are found in the

Pharmacopœia. The English species also were at one time thus

employed; but Gerarde, the great medical botanist of Queen Elizabeth’s

reign, will not admit that they possess any virtue at all, but rather

the contrary. “They are not fit for medicine, and unprofitable weeds,

and hurtful to each thing that groweth next them, and were only

administered by runnegate physick-mongers, quacksalvers, old women

leeches, abusers of physick, and deceivers of people.” For study of the

natural appearance of the flower we would refer you, if you are unable

to meet with the plant itself, to E. B. 924; S. C. 2; T. N. O. 97; G. O.

99; and P. F. 76.

BITTER-SWEET. The Bitter-sweet (_Solanum Dulcamara_) is so called from

the bitter flavour of the stems when first tasted, a flavour which is

speedily followed by a peculiar sweetness somewhat resembling liquorice

root. In not only the familiar English name, but the specific botanical

appellation as well, we see this peculiarity of the plant referred to,

_Dulcamara_ having the same meaning as bitter-sweet. The continental

names have also this curious reference in them, the plant in France

being called Douce-amère; in Italy, Dulcamara; in Spain, Amaradulcis;

and in Germany, Bittersusstangel. The plant is frequently called woody

nightshade, while the old herbalists, in addition to the names already

given, call it felonwort. _Solanum_ is derived from _solamen_, in

reference to the soothing effect of some species of the Solanaceæ. The

bitter-sweet has small flowers of a deep purple colour, the petals being

very much reflexed. The berries are of a deep red when ripe, but change

considerably in their colour before reaching maturity; thus on the same

bunch we may frequently see green, yellow, orange, and crimson fruit.

Thirty of these berries administered to a large dog killed it in less

than three hours. Refer to E. B. 930; F. L. vol. i. 14; M. B. 33; S. C.

17; T. N. O. 100; and P. F. 19, for illustrations of the natural growth

of the plant. This shrub is frequently confounded with the deadly

nightshade, from the slight similarity of name; but there is no other

point of resemblance. The two plants are totally distinct. The woody

nightshade, though common in most parts of England, is comparatively

scarce in Scotland and Ireland. It is a hedgerow plant, flowering during

June, July, and August. A variety with white flowers is sometimes met

with.

The BLACK-THORN or SLOE (_Prunus spinosa_) is curious and suggestive

from an ornamentist’s point of view, from the flowers, unlike most other

plants, appearing in profusion before the leaves are developed. We see a

plant strongly resembling the black-thorn very largely used in their

ornament by the Japanese, a plant with numerous spreading branches,

leafless, but thickly clustered with flowers. The black-thorn may

commonly be met with in coppices and hedgerows, the blossoms appearing

in March or April, and the rich purple fruit in August. The name sloe is

derived from the Anglo-Saxon _sla_, and refers to the extreme acidity of

the tempting-looking fruit. The natural growth may be seen on reference

to E. B. 408, or M. B. 84. The black-thorn possesses a certain value

ornamentally, as being, like the primrose and snowdrop, a characteristic

flower of the spring.

“Flowers, as the changing seasons roll along,

Still wait on earth, and added beauties lend;

Around the smiling Spring a lovely throng

With eager rivalry her steps attend;

Others with Summer’s brighter glories blend;

Some grace mild Autumn’s more majestic mien;

While some few lingering blooms the brow befriend

Of hoary Winter, and with grace serene

Enwreath the king of storms with mercy’s tender sheen.”

BARTON.

[Illustration: _Borage._]

The BORAGE (_Borago officinalis_), though widely distributed, is by no

means a common plant; and though mentioned by several old writers, must

be considered as but a doubtful native. The generic name has been

corrupted from two Latin words, _cor_, the heart, and _ago_, I act, from

a belief, as old as the time of Pliny, in its exhilarating effects;

hence the old saying, _Ego borago gaudia semper ago_, “I borage give

always courage.” The borage, like the comfrey and forget-me-not, belongs

to the order _Boraginaceæ_, and, in common with most of the species of

that order, is marked by the gyrate or scorpoid arrangement of its

flowers, the stem being coiled round like the mainspring of a watch. It

may be met with occasionally in the ornament of the past--its large and

striking-looking stellate (Latin, _stella_, a star) flowers, and the

general growth of the plant, being admirably adapted to the purposes of

design. As an example we may instance the MS. Hours of Henry VII. in the

British Museum, where the borage is introduced upon a golden ground on

one of the pages. Drawings of this plant will be found in E. B. 1114; M.

B. 217; T. N. O. 98; and P. F. 36.

In studying the application of natural vegetable forms to the various

requirements of ornamental art--such, for instance, as the employment of

bold, vigorous plants to stone or wood carving, and the more graceful

and delicate growths to such fabrics as muslin and lace--we speedily

find that in some cases we are unable to treat the whole of the plant we

have selected for our purpose, owing to the limitations placed upon us

by the requirements of the work, the exigencies of manufacture, or the

nature of the materials in which our design is to be embodied. In some

cases the flowers are too small in detail, or in the general mass, to

accord well from the ornamentist’s point of view with the foliage of the

plant; the white bryony (_Bryonia dioica_), for instance, though

excellently adapted for muslins, could not in its flowering stage be

satisfactorily treated for stonework on this account, though the foliage

by itself is admirably suited for such purpose. In other instances we

find the case reversed, the flower being large and beautiful in form,

and the leaves unsuited, either from their insignificant size or want of

beauty, to the purpose of the ornamentist; thus, while the leaves of the

stonecrop (_Sedum acre_) are, from their minuteness, scarcely available

for the purposes of design, the stellate flower is exceedingly beautiful

in form, and admirably adapted for diapering and many other uses, when

isolated from the rest of the plant. Where both leaf and flower are from

their beauty and relative scale equally adapted for art-treatment, we

are still, when circumstances require it, quite justified in employing

either the one or the other by itself: where a monochrome arrangement is

necessary, the leaves alone may, for example, be used; where a central

radiate form, the flower may be introduced. The rosette or patera, so

freely introduced both in ancient and mediæval art, is an example of

this use of isolated floral forms.

The BRAMBLE or BLACKBERRY (_Rubus fruticosus_), a more familiar plant

than the last, has, so far as we are aware, been but little used in

ornamental art, though the _Rubus idæus_, or wild raspberry, may

occasionally be seen in MSS. of the sixteenth century. The generic name

is highly expressive of the prickly nature of the plant, being derived

from an old Celtic verb, _reub_, to lacerate or tear away; while its

English name, bramble, attests its indigenous nature, descending as it

does from the Anglo-Saxon name for it, _bremel_. The stems, ordinarily

of a pale purple colour and with a grey bloom upon them, are pentangular

in section, the numerous prickles almost entirely confined to the ridges

formed by the angles, and not occurring in the intermediate furrows; the

leaves generally with five deeply serrated leaflets, a rich green on the

upper surface, and covered with close white down on the lower; the

petals of the blossom varying from pure white or delicate pink to a deep

red; and the fruit of a rich crimson, so intense in colour as to appear

almost black. The mode of growth

[Illustration: _Blackberry._]

admirably fits it for the service of the designer, the leaves being very

ornamental in form, and the long trailing stems admitting of great

freedom of curve, while for its use in decorative art a further great

recommendation exists in the power of representing the plant under

several phases of growth without violating natural truth, as at one and

the same time we find the opening bud, the fully-expanded flower, and

the fruit of all sizes and stages of development, varying in colour from

green, light red, and crimson, to deep purplish black in its progress to

maturity. We thus gain great variety of form, and also, when admissible,

of colour. The bramble appears to be of especial value in ornament

where large surfaces require to be covered by forms at once suitable in

scale, interesting in their details, and varied in their character;

hence it would seem admirably adapted to muslins and lace, though, so

far as we have had opportunity of observation, it has not been thus

employed. Reliable drawings of the blackberry will be found in W. H. H.,

Plate E, Fig. 1.; in T. N. O. 51; G. O. 96; and P. F. 57.

Some plants, beautiful in themselves, possess an increased importance in

the eyes of the followers of ornamental art, from their being used

heraldically; such, for example, are the rose, the shamrock, the broom,

and the thistle. BROOM (_Sarothamnus scoparius_) is thus used as the

badge of the Scottish clan Forbes, and, as all readers of history will

remember, was also chosen as the device of the Plantagenets. A very good

example of its use in past art--though scarcely, from its being found in

a Tudor monument, having any heraldic meaning--will be seen in a glass

quarry in Henry VII.’s Chapel. _Sarothamnus_ is derived from two Greek

verbs, signifying a shrub, and to sweep. The English name has the same

force of meaning. In an old work we have consulted, the author deems it

useless to go into a long account of the plant, so well known was it in

his time from this domestic use:--“To spend time in writing a

description hereof is altogether needless, it being so generally used by

all the good housewives almost throughout this land to sweep their

houses with, and, therefore, very well known to all sorts of people.”

The broom may ordinarily be found on sandy commons, railway banks, and

dry hillsides. The large yellow pea-shaped flowers appear in great

profusion throughout May and June, and are succeeded in due course by

the black seed-pods. The plant grows from three to six feet high, and

when covered with its brilliant blossoms is a very striking object.

Leaves very inconspicuous. Drawings of this very beautiful plant may be

seen on referring to S. B. 121; E. B. 329; M. B. 89; F. L. vol. v. 31;

S. C. 67; T. N. O. 49.

BULBOUS CROWFOOT. We have selected the present plant (_Ranunculus

bulbosus_) as a good representative of the numerous species of plants

familiarly termed buttercups, partly because it is the most striking in

effect, partly because it is the one that will most readily be met with

under ordinary circumstances; for while its fine flowers and

beautifully-cut leaves render it singularly well suited to the purposes

of ornament, the abundance of it in every meadow throughout the country

places it within the reach of all who would desire to adapt it to any

artistic purpose. From the commonness of the plant, and its general

distribution throughout England, it has received many other names:

goldknob, goldcup, baffiner, troil-flower, polt, kingcup, buttercup,

butter-flower, cuckoo-bud, are all synonyms. The term _Ranunculus_ is

derived from _rana_, a frog, many of the species being found in wet,

swampy places; while the specific name, _bulbosus_, alludes to the

bulb-like swelling of the lower part of the stem in this particular

species. The name crowfoot has been given to the plant from the

radiating character of the segments of the leaf, spreading as they do

like the divisions of a bird’s foot; while the use of the word buttercup

points to the old belief that the rich yellowness of spring butter is

owing to the eating of this plant by the cows; the effect must rather,

however, be ascribed to the tender grass, as any one who will take the

trouble to notice the fact will find that cows in a meadow will, as far

as possible, avoid the buttercups. The leaves of the bulbous crowfoot,

like, with one exception, those of the rest of the family, are very

acrid, and will, if applied to the skin, speedily blister it. The plant

will be found in flower throughout the spring and summer: a variety is

sometimes met with having cream-coloured flowers. The crowfoot is one of

the favourite plants in the ornament of the Decorated period of Gothic.

Representations of the natural plant may be seen on consulting E. B. 35,

or F. L. vol. i. 38; refer also to “Water Crowfoot” in the present work,

page 84.

Art-Studies from Nature, as Applied to Design For the use of architects, designers, and manufacturers · 第 1 / 11 段