India and Egypt, the most prominent is the sacred Lotus, whose leaf was
the “emblem and cradle of creative might.” It was anciently revered in
Egypt as it is now in Hindustan, Thibet, and Nepaul, where the people
believe it was in the consecrated bosom of this plant that Brahma was
born, and that Osiris delights to float. From its peculiar organisation
the Lotus is virtually self-productive: hence it became the symbol of
the reproductive power of all nature, and was worshipped as a symbol of
the All-Creative Power. The same floral symbol occurs wherever in the
northern hemisphere symbolic religion has prevailed. The sacred images
of the Tartars, Japanese, and Indians are almost all represented as
resting upon Lotus-leaves. The Chinese divinity, Puzza, is seated in
a Lotus, and the Japanese god is represented sitting in a Water-Lily.
The Onion was formerly held in the highest esteem as a religious
symbol in the mysterious solemnities and divinations of the Egyptians
and Hindus. In the first place, its delicate red veins and fibres
rendered it an object of veneration, as typifying the blood, at the
shedding of which the Hindu shudders. Secondly, it was regarded as an
astronomical emblem, for on cutting through it, there appeared beneath
the external coat a succession of orbs, one within another, in regular
order, after the manner of revolving spheres. The Rose has been made a
symbolic flower in every age. In the East, it is the emblem of virtue
and loveliness. The Egyptians made it a symbol of silence; the Romans
regarded it as typical of festivity. In modern times it is considered
the appropriate symbol of beauty and love,--the half-expanded bud
representing the first dawn of the sublime passion, and the full-blown
flower the maturity of perfect love. The Asphodel, like the Hyacinth
of the ancients, was regarded as an emblem of grief and sorrow. The
Myrtle, from its being dedicated to Venus, was sacred as a symbol of
love and beauty. White flowers were held to be typical of light and
innocence, and were consecrated to virgins. Sombre and dark-foliaged
plants were held to be typical of disaster and death.
The floral symbols of the Scriptures are worthy of notice. From the
circumstance of Elijah having been sheltered from the persecutions of
King Ahab by the Juniper, that tree has become a symbol of succour
or an asylum. The Almond was an emblem of haste and vigilance to
the Hebrew writers; with Eastern poets, however, it was regarded as
a symbol of hope. Throughout the East, the Aloe is regarded as a
religious symbol, and is greatly venerated. It is expressive of grief
and bitterness, and is religiously planted by the Mahommedans at the
extremity of every grave. Burckhardt says that they call it by the
Arabic name _Saber_, signifying patience--a singularly appropriate
name; for as the plant is evergreen, it whispers to those who mourn
for the loved ones they have lost, _patience_ in their affliction.
The Clover is another sacred plant symbol. St. Patrick chose it as an
emblem of the Trinity when engaged in converting the Irish, who have
ever since, in the Shamrock, regarded it as a representative plant. The
Druids thought very highly of the Trefoil because its leaf symbolised
the three departments of nature--the earth, the sea, and the heaven.
But of all plant symbols, none can equal in beauty or sanctity the
Passion Flower, the lovely blossom of which, when first met with by the
Spanish conquerors of the New World, suggested to their enthusiastic
imagination the story of our Saviour’s Passion. The Jesuits professed
to find in the several parts of the Maracot the crown of thorns, the
scourge, the pillar, the sponge, the nails, and the five wounds, and
they issued drawings representing the flower with its inflorescence
distorted to suit their statements regarding its almost miraculous
character. John Parkinson, in his _Paradisus Terrestris_ (1629), gives
a good figure of the Virginian species of the plant, as well as an
engraving of “The Jesuites Figure of the Maracoc--_Granadillus Frutex
Indicus Christi Passionis Imago_.” But, as a good Protestant, he feels
bound to enter his protest against the superstitious regard paid to the
flower by the Roman Catholics, and so he writes: “Some superstitious
Jesuites would fain make men believe that in the flower of this plant
are to be seen all the markes of our Saviour’s Passion: and therefore
call it _Flos Passionis_: and to that end have caused figures to be
drawn and printed, with all the parts proportioned out, as thornes,
nailes, spear, whip, pillar, &c., in it, and as true as the sea burns,
which you may well perceive by the true figure taken to the life of
the plant, compared with the figure set forth by the Jesuites, which
I have placed here likewise for everyone to see: but these be their
advantageous lies (which with them are tolerable, or rather pious and
meritorious) wherewith they use to instruct their people; but I dare
say, God never willed His priests to instruct His people with lies: for
they come from the Devill, the author of them.”
[Illustration: The Passion-flower of the Jesuits. From _Parkinson’s
Paradisus_.]
In early times, it was customary in Europe to employ particular colours
for the purpose of indicating ideas and feelings, and in France where
the symbolical meaning of colours was formed into a regular system,
much importance was attached to the art of symbolising by the selection
of particular colours for dresses, ornaments, &c. In this way, flowers
of various hues became the apt media of conveying ideas and feelings;
and in the ages of chivalry the enamoured knight often indicated his
passion by wearing a single blossom or posy of many-hued flowers. In
the romance of _Perceforet_, a hat adorned with Roses is celebrated as
a favourite gift of love; and in _Amadis de Gaule_, the captive Oriana
is represented as throwing to her lover a Rose wet with tears, as the
sweetest pledge of her unalterable faith. Red was recognised as the
colour of love, and therefore the Rose, on account of its tint, was a
favourite emblem. Of the various allegorical meanings which were in the
Middle Ages attached to this lovely flower, a description will be found
in the celebrated _Romaunt de la Rose_, which was commenced in the year
1620 by Guillaume de Lorris, and finished forty years later by Jean de
Meung.
In France, during the Middle Ages, flowers were much employed as
emblems of love and friendship. At the banquet given in celebration of
the marriage of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, with the English
Princess, Margaret, several ingenious automata were introduced, one
being a large unicorn, bearing on its back a leopard, which held
in one claw the standard of England, and on the other a Daisy, or
_Marguerite_. The unicorn having gone round all the tables, halted
before the Duke; and one of the _maîtres d’hôtel_, taking the Daisy
from the leopard’s claw, presented it, with a complimentary address, to
the royal bridegroom.
In the same country, an act of homage, unique in its kind, was paid
to a lady in the early part of the seventeenth century. The Duke of
Montausier, on obtaining the promise of the hand of Mademoiselle de
Rambouillet, sent to her, according to custom, every morning till
that fixed for the nuptials, a bouquet composed of the finest flowers
of the season. But this was not all: on the morning of New Year’s
Day, 1634--the day appointed for the marriage--he laid upon her
dressing-table a magnificently-bound folio volume, on the parchment
leaves of which the most skilful artists of the day had painted
from nature a series of the choicest flowers cultivated at that
time in Europe. The first poets of Paris contributed the poetical
illustrations, which were written by the cleverest penmen under the
different flowers. The most celebrated of these madrigals, composed
by Chapelain on the Crown Imperial, represented that superb flower as
having sprung from the blood of Gustavus Adolphus, who fell in the
battle of Lützen; and thus paid, in the name of the Swedish hero, a
delicate compliment to the bride, who was a professed admirer of his
character. According to a statement published some years since, this
magnificent volume, which was called, after the name of the lady, the
Garland of Julia, was disposed of, in 1784, at the sale of the Duke de
la Vallière’s effects, for fifteen thousand five hundred and ten livres
(about £650), and was brought to England.
The floral emblems of Shakspeare are evidence of the great poet’s
fondness for flowers and his delicate appreciation of their uses
and similitudes. In ‘A Winter’s Tale,’ Perdita is made to present
appropriate flowers to her visitors, symbolical of their various ages;
but the most remarkable of Shakspeare’s floral symbols occur where
poor Ophelia is wearing, in her madness, “fantastic garlands of wild
flowers”--denoting the bewildered state of her faculties.
The order of these flowers runs thus, with the meaning of each term
beneath:--
CROW FLOWERS. NETTLES. DAISIES. LONG PURPLES.
Fayre Mayde. Stung to the Her Virgin Under the cold
Quick. Bloom. hand of Death.
“A fair maid, stung to the quick; her virgin bloom under the cold hand
of death.”
Probably no wreath could have been selected more truly typifying the
sorrows of this beautiful victim of disappointed love and filial sorrow.
The most noted code of floral signs, used as a language by the Turkish
and Greek women in the Levant, and by the African females on the coast
of Barbary, was introduced into Western Europe by Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu and La Mortraie, the companion in exile of Charles XII., and
obtained in France and England much popularity as the “Turkish Language
of Flowers.” This language is said to be much employed in the Turkish
harems, where the women practise it, either for the sake of mere
diversion in their seclusion, or for carrying on secret communication.
In France and Germany, the language of flowers has taken deep root,
and in our own country the poetic symbolisms of Shakspeare, Chaucer,
Herrick, Drayton, and others of the earlier bards, laid the groundwork
for the very complete system of floral emblemism, or language of
flowers, which we now possess. A great many works have been published,
containing floral codes, or dictionaries: most of these, however,
possess but little merit as expositions of old symbols or traditions,
and have been compiled principally from modern sources.
An ancient floral vocabulary, taken from Dierbach’s _Flora Mythologica
der Griechen und Römer_, and an approved modern English ‘Dictionary of
Flowers,’ are appended, in order to make this portion of our subject
complete.
Ancient Floral Vocabulary.
Absinth The Bitterness and Torments of Love.
Acacia Love, pure and platonic.
Acanthus Love of Fine Arts.
Althea Exquisite Sweetness.
Amaranth Fidelity and Constancy.
Anemone Abandonment.
Angelica Gentle Melancholy.
Argentine Ingenuity.
Aster Elegance.
Balsam Impatience.
Basil Poverty.
Betony Emotion and Surprise.
Bindweed Coquetry.
Bluet Clearness and Light.
Box Firmness and Stoicism.
Bramble Injustice and Envy.
Burdock Importunity.
Buttercup Sarcasm.
Calendula Anxiety.
Camellia Constancy and Steadfastness.
Carrot Good Character.
Cinquefoil Maternal Love.
Colchicum Bad Character.
Cypress Mourning and Grief.
Dahlia Sterile Abundance.
Daisy (Easter) Candour and Innocence.
Dandelion Oracle.
Darnel Vice.
Digitalis Work.
Dittany Discretion.
Elder Humility.
Ephemeris Transient Happiness.
Everlasting Flwr. Constancy.
Fennel Merit.
Fern Confidence.
Forget-me-not Faithful Remembrance.
Foxglove Adulation.
Fuchsia Amiability.
Fumitory Hatred.
Geranium Folly.
Hawthorn Sweet Hope.
Heliotrope Eternal Love.
Hellebore Wit.
Hemlock Perfidy.
Holly Defence.
Honeysuckle Bond of Affection.
Hyacinth Amenity.
Hydrangea Coldness.
Iris Indifference.
Ivy Attachment.
Jasmine Amiability.
Jonquil Amorous Languor.
Jujube-tree Relief.
Larkspur Open Heart.
Laurel Victory and Glory.
Lavender Silence.
Lilac First Troubles of Love.
Lily Purity and Majesty.
Maidenhair Bond of Love.
Marjoram Consolation.
Marvel of Peru Flame of Love.
Mallow Maternal Tenderness.
Mint Wisdom and Virtue.
Milfoil Cure and Recovery.
Moonwort Bad Payment.
Myrtle Love.
Narcissus Self-esteem and Fatuity.
Nettle Cruelty.
Olive Peace.
Orange-tree Virginity, Generosity.
Peony Shame.
Periwinkle Unalterable Friendship.
Pineapple Perfection.
Pink Pure and Ardent Love.
Poppy Sleep.
Privet Youth.
Rose Beauty and Love.
Rosemary Power of Re-kindling extinct Energy.
Rue Fecundity of Fields.
Sage Esteem.
Sensitive-plant Modesty.
Solanum Prodigality.
Spindle-tree Ineffaceable Memory.
Strawberry Intoxication, Delight.
Thyme Spontaneous Emotion.
Trefoil Uncertainty.
Tulip Grandeur.
Valerian Readiness.
Vervain Pure Affection.
Viburnum Coolness.
Violet Modesty.
A Dictionary of Flowers.
Acacia Friendship.
---- Rose Elegance.
Acanthus The Arts.
Achillea millefolia War.
Adonis, Flos Painful Recollections.
Agrimony Thankfulness.
Almond-tree Indiscretion.
Aloe Grief.
Amaranth Immortality.
Amaryllis Pride.
Anemone Forsaken.
---- Field Sickness.
Angelica Inspiration.
Angrec Royalty.
Apple-blossom Preference.
Ash-tree Grandeur.
Asphodel My regrets follow you to the grave.
Aster, China Variety.
---- After-Thought.
Balm of Gilead Cure.
---- Gentle Joking.
Balsam Impatience.
Barberry Sourness of Temper.
Basil Hate.
Beech Prosperity.
Bilberry Treachery.
Bladder-nut Frivolous Amusement.
Borage Bluntness.
Box-tree Stoicism.
Bramble Envy.
Broom Humility and Neatness.
Buckbean Calm Repose.
Bugloss Falsehood.
Bulrush Indiscretion.
Burdock Touch me not.
Buttercup Ingratitude.
Cactus, Virginia Horror.
Canterbury Bell Constancy.
Catchfly Snare.
Champignon Suspicion.
Cherry-tree Good Education.
Chesnut-tree Do me Justice.
Chicory Frugality.
Cinquefoil Beloved Daughter.
Circæa Spell.
Clematis Artifice.
Clotbur Rudeness.
Clove-tree Dignity.
Columbine Folly.
Convolvulus (night) Night.
Coriander Hidden Merit.
Corn Riches.
Corn-bottle Delicacy.
Cornel Cherry Durability.
Cowslip, Amer. You are my Divinity.
Cress Resolution.
Crown Imperial Power.
Cuscuta Meanness.
Cypress Mourning.
Daffodil Self Love.
Daisy Innocence.
---- Garden I share your sentiments.
---- Wild I will think of it.
Dandelion The Rustic Oracle.
Day Lily, Yellow Coquetry.
Dittany Childbirth.
Dock Patience.
Dodder Meanness.
Ebony-tree Blackness.
Eglantine Poetry.
Fennel Strength.
Fig Longevity.
Fir-tree Elevations.
Flax I feel your kindness.
Flower-de-Luce Flame.
Forget-Me-Not Forget me not.
Fraxinella Fire.
Fuller’s Teasel Misanthropy.
Geranium Deceit.
---- Oak-leaved True Friendship.
---- Silver-leaved Recall.
---- Pencilled-leaf Ingenuity.
---- Rose-scented Preference.
---- Scarlet Stupidity.
---- Sorrowful Melancholy Mind.
---- Wild Steadfast Piety.
Grass Utility.
Hawthorn Hope.
Hazel Peace, Reconciliation.
Heart’s Ease Think of me.
Heath Solitude.
Heliotrope, Peruvian Devoted Attachment.
Hellenium Tears.
Hepatica Confidence.
Holly Foresight.
Hollyhock Ambition.
Honeysuckle Generous and Devoted Affection.
Hop Injustice.
Hornbeam Ornament.
Horse-Chesnut Luxury.
Hortensia You are cold.
Hyacinth Game, Play.
Ice-plant Your looks freeze me.
Ipomœa I attach myself to you.
Iris Message.
Ivy Friendship.
Jasmine Amiability.
---- Carolina Separation.
Jonquil Desire.
Juniper Protection.
Larch Boldness.
Larkspur Lightness.
Laurel Glory.
Laurustinus I die if neglected.
Lavender Mistrust.
Leaves, Dead Sadness, Melancholy.
Lilac First Emotions of Love.
---- White Youth.
Lily Majesty.
Lily of the Valley Return of Happiness.
Linden-tree Conjugal Love.
Liverwort Confidence.
London Pride Frivolity.
Lotus Eloquence.
Lucern Life.
Madder Calumny.
Maidenhair Secrecy.
Mallow Beneficence.
Manchineel-tree Falsehood.
Maple Reserve.
Mandrake Rarity.
Marigold Grief.
---- Prophetic Prediction.
---- and Cypress Despair.
Marvel of Peru Timidity.
Meadow Saffron My best days are past.
Mezereon Coquetry. Desire to please.
Mignonette Your qualities surpass your charms.
Milkwort Hermitage.
Mistletoe I surmount all difficulties.
Moonwort Forgetfulness.
Moss Maternal Love.
Mulberry-tree, Black I shall not survive you.
---- White Wisdom.
Musk-plant Weakness.
Myrobalan Privation.
Myrtle Love.
Narcissus Self Love.
Nettle Cruelty.
Nightshade, Bitter-sweet Truth.
---- Enchanter’s Spell.
Nosegay Gallantry.
Oak Hospitality.
Olive Peace.
Ophrys, Spider Skill.
Orange Flower Chastity.
---- Tree Generosity.
Orchis, Bee Error.
Palm Victory.
Parsley Festivity.
Passion Flower Faith.
Peony Shame, Bashfulness.
Peppermint Warmth of Feeling.
Periwinkle Tender Recollections.
Pineapple You are perfect.
Pink Pure Love.
---- Yellow Disdain.
Plane-tree Genius.
Plum-tree Keep your promises.
---- Wild Independence.
Poplar, black Courage.
---- White Time.
Poppy Consolation.
---- Sleep.
---- White My bane, my antidote.
Potato Beneficence.
Primrose Childhood.
---- Evening Inconstancy.
Privet Prohibition.
Quince Temptation.
Ranunculus You are radiant with charms.
Reeds Music.
Rose Love.
---- 100-leaved Grace.
---- Monthly Beauty ever new.
---- Musk Capricious Beauty.
---- Single Simplicity.
---- White Silence.
---- Withered Fleeting Beauty.
---- Yellow Infidelity.
Rosebud A Young Girl.
---- White A Heart unacquainted with Love.
Rosemary Your presence revives me.
Rue, Wild Morals.
Rush Docility.
Saffron Beware of excess.
Sage Esteem.
Sainfoin, Shaking Agitation.
St. John’s Wort Superstition.
Sardonia Irony.
Sensitive-plant Chastity.
Snapdragon Presumption.
Snowdrop Hope.
Sorrel, Wood Joy.
Speedwell Fidelity.
Spindle-tree Your charms are engraven on my heart.
Star of Bethlehem Purity.
Stock Lasting Beauty.
---- Ten Week Promptness.
Stone Crop Tranquillity.
Straw, Broken Rupture of a Contract.
---- Whole Union.
Strawberry Perfection.
Sunflower False Riches.
Sweet Sultan Happiness.
Sweet William Finesse.
Sycamore Curiosity.
Syringa Fraternal Love.
Tansy, Wild I declare war against you.
Tendrils of Creepers Ties.
Thistle Surliness.
Thorn Apple Deceitful Charms.
Thrift Sympathy.
Thyme Activity.
Tremella Nostoc Resistance.
Truffle Surprise.
Tuberose Dangerous Pleasures.
Tulip Declaration of Love.
Tussilage, Sweet-scented Justice shall be done to you.
Valerian An Accommodating Disposition.
Valerian, Greek Rupture.
Venus’ Looking-glass Flattery.
Veronica Fidelity.
Vervain Enchantment.
Vine Intoxication.
Violet Modesty.
Violet, White Innocence, Candour.
Wallflower Fidelity in Misfortune.
Walnut Stratagem.
Whortleberry Treachery.
Willow, Weeping Mourning.
Wormwood Absence.
Yew Sorrow.
In the chapter on Magic Plants will be found a list of plants used by
maidens and their lovers for the purposes of divination; and in Part
II., under the respective headings of the plants thus alluded to, will
be found described the several modes of divination. This practice of
love divination, it will be seen, is not altogether unconnected with
the symbolical meaning or language of flowers, and therefore it is here
again adverted to.
In many countries it is customary to pluck off the petals of the
Marigold, or some other flower of a similar nature, while certain
words are repeated, for the purpose of divining the character of an
individual. Göthe, in his tragedy of ‘Faust,’ has touched upon this
rustic superstition, and makes Margaret pluck off the leaves of a
flower, at the same time alternately repeating the words--“He loves
me,”--“He loves me not.” On coming to the last leaf, she joyously
exclaims--“He love me!”--and Faust says: “Let this flower pronounce the
decree of heaven!”
“And with scarlet Poppies around, like a bower,
The maiden found her mystic flower.
‘Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell
If my lover loves me, and loves me well;
So may the fall of the morning dew
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue.
Now must I number the leaves for my lot--
He loves me not--loves me--he loves me not--
He loves me--ah! yes, thou last leaf, yes--
I’ll pluck thee not for that last sweet guess!
He loves me!’--‘Yes,’ a dear voice sighed,
And her lover stands by Margaret’s side.”--_Miss Landon._
In some places, the following mode of floral divination is resorted to.
The lover, male or female, who wishes to ascertain the character of the
beloved one, draws by lot one of the following flowers, the symbolical
meaning attached to which will give the information desired:--
1.--Ranunculus Enterprising.
2.--Wild Pink Silly.
3.--Auricula Base.
4.--Blue Cornflower Loquacious.
5.--Wild Orach Lazy.
6.--Daisy Gentle.
7.--Tulip Ostentatious.
8.--Jonquil Obstinate.
9.--Orange-flower Hasty.
10.--Rose Submissive.
11.--Amaranth Arbitrary.
12.--Stock Avaricious.
13.--Spanish Passionate.
14.--Asphodel Languishing.
15.--Tricolour Selfish.
16.--Tuberose Ambitious.
17.--Jasmine Cheerful.
18.--Heart’s Ease Delicate.
19.--Lily Sincere.
20.--Fritillary Coquettish.
21.--Snapdragon Presumptuous.
22.--Carnation Capricious.
23.--Marigold Jealous.
24.--Everlasting Flower Constant.
[Headpiece]
CHAPTER XVI.
Funeral Trees and Plants.
The association of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy
surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity.
Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records,
and through one of these (the Sanscrit _Mahâbhârata_) we learn that
Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed
under the tree _Salmalî_, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir.
One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree is _Kantakadruma_,
Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its
spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the
infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu
god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia
of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in
Paradise (_Ficus Indica_), and which is known in India as the tree dear
to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the
tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the
roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who,
according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of
life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief
that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a
certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the
Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy
regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel,
flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the
departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of
the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to
scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various
plants--probably to typify life from the dead.
The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of
planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded
as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave,
one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an
emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on
this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and
instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality,
and that they conduce to the meditation of the living, and the removal
of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This
observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early
inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out
that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and
that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak
at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients
of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of
their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont
to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and
those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to
heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to
be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other
septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude
to some such custom in the following lines:--
“The gods forbid my bones in the high road
Should lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;
Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,
My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”
The ancients were wont to hang their criminals either to barren trees,
or to those dedicated to the infernal gods; and we find that in
Maundevile’s time the practice of hanging corpses on trees existed in
the Indies, or, at any rate, on an island which he describes as being
called Caffolos. He gives a sketch of a tree, probably a Palm, with
a man suspended from it, and remarks that “Men of that Contree, whan
here Frendes ben seke, thei hangen hem upon Trees; and seyn, that it is
bettre that briddes, that ben Angeles of God, eten hem, than the foul
Wormes of the Erthe.”
[Illustration: The Tree of Death. From _Maundevile’s Travels_.]
We have, in a previous chapter, seen that among the Bengalese there
still exists the practice of hanging sickly infants in baskets upon
trees, and leaving them there to die. Certain of the wild tribes of
India--the Puharris, for example--when burying their infants, place
them in earthen pots, and strew leaves over them: these pots they
deposit at the foot of trees, sometimes covering them over with
brushwood. Similar burial is given to those who die of measles or
small-pox: the corpse is placed at the foot of a tree, and left in the
underwood or heather, covered with leaves and branches. In about a year
the parents repair to the grave-tree, and there, beneath its boughs,
take part in a funeral feast.
Grotius states that the Greeks and Romans believed that spirits and
ghosts of men delighted to wander and appear in the sombre depths of
groves devoted to the sepulture of the departed, and on this account
Plato gave permission for trees to be planted over graves--as Evelyn
states, “to obumbrate and refresh them.” Since then the custom of
planting trees in places devoted to the burial of the dead has become
universal, and the trees thus selected have in consequence come to be
regarded as funereal.
As a general rule, the trees to which this funereal signification has
been attached are those of a pendent or weeping character, and those
which are distinguished by their dark and sombre foliage, black berries
and fruits, and melancholy-looking blossoms. Others again have been
planted in God’s acre on account of the symbolical meaning attached to
their form or nature. Thus, whilst the Aloe, the Yew, and the Cypress
are suggestive of life, from their perpetual verdure, they typify in
floral symbology respectively grief, sorrow, and mourning. The Bay is
an emblem of the resurrection, inasmuch as, according to Sir Thomas
Browne, when to all outward appearance it is dead and withered, it will
unexpectedly revive from the root, and its dry leaves resume their
pristine vitality. Evergreen trees and shrubs, whose growth is like
a pyramid or spire, the apex of which points heavenward, are deemed
emblematic of eternity, and as such are fitly classed among funereal
trees: the Arbor Vitæ and the Cypress are examples. The weeping Birch
and Willow and the Australian Casuarina, with their foliage mournfully
bending to the earth, fitly find their place in churchyards as
personifications of woe.
The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very
early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the
Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons from the Romans. From long
habits of association, the Yew acquired a sacred character, and
therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of
consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews
in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these
trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade.
Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving this
funereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in
solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under
the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly
in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his
sixth Thebaid, calls it the _solitary Yew_. Leyden thus apostrophises
this funeral tree:--
“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,
Whose still green leaves in silence wave
Above the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,
Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.
To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;
They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,
Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;
No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:
Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spread
Thy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”
The Mountain Ash is to be found in most Welsh churchyards, where it
has been planted, not as a funeral tree, but as a defence against evil
spirits. In Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its
way to the churchyard under one of these trees of good omen.
William Cullen Bryant, the American poet, has left us a graceful
description of an English churchyard:--
“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our sires
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades
Or blossoms; and, indulgent to the strong
And natural dread of man’s last home--the grave!
Its frost and silence, they disposed around,
Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and hues
Of vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,
Green even amid the snows of Winter, told
Of immortality; and gracefully
The Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;
And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;
And there the ancient Ivy.”
The Walnut-tree, of which it is said that the shadow brings death, is
in some countries considered a funeral tree. In India they call the
Tamarisk, _Yamadutika_ (Messenger of Yama, the Indian god of death),
and the _Bombax Heptaphyllum, Yamadruma_, the tree of Yama.
The Elm and the Oak, although not strictly funeral trees, are connected
with the grave by reason of their wood being used in the construction
of coffins, at the present day, just as Cypress and Cedar wood used to
be employed by the ancients.
“And well the abounding Elm may grow
In field and hedge so rife;
In forest, copse, and wooded park,
And ’mid the city’s strife;
For every hour that passes by
Shall end a human life.”--_Hood._
Brambles are used to bind down graves. Ivy, as an evergreen and a
symbol of friendship, is planted to run over the last resting-place of
those we love.
In Persia, it is the Basil-tuft that waves its fragrant blossoms over
tombs and graves. In Tripoli, Roses, Myrtle, Orange, and Jasmine are
planted round tombs; and a large bouquet of flowers is usually fastened
at the head of the coffins of females. Upon the death of a Moorish
lady of quality every place is filled with fresh flowers and burning
perfumes, and at the head of the body is placed a large bouquet. The
mausoleum of the royal family is filled with immense wreaths of fresh
flowers, and generally tombs are dressed with festoons of choice
blossoms. The Chinese plant Roses, a species of Lycoris, and the
Anemone on their graves. The Indians attribute a funereal character to
the fragrant flowers of the sacred Champak (_Michelia Champaca_).
The ancients planted the Asphodel around the tombs of the deceased,
in the belief that the seeds of this plant, and those of the Mallow,
afforded nourishment to the dead.
The Greeks employed the Rose to decorate the tombs of the dead, and the
floral decorations were frequently renewed, under the belief that this
bush was potent to protect the remains of the departed one. Anacreon
alludes to this practice in one of his odes:--
“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,
Its juice the drooping heart relieves;
And after death its odours shed
A pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”
The Romans, also, were so partial to the Rose, that we find, by old
inscriptions at Ravenna and Milan, that codicils in the wills of the
deceased directed that their tombs should be planted with the queen of
flowers--a practice said to have been introduced by them into England.
Camden speaks of the churchyards in his time as thickly planted with
Rose-trees; Aubrey notices a custom at Ockley, in Surrey, of planting
Roses on the graves of lovers; and Evelyn, who lived at Wotton Place,
not far distant, mentions the same practice. In Wales, White Roses mark
the graves of the young and of unmarried females; whilst Red Roses are
placed over anyone distinguished for benevolence of character.
All nations at different periods seem to have delighted to deck the
graves of their departed relatives with garlands of flowers--emblems at
once of beauty and quick fading into death.
“With fairest flowers
While summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; nor
The azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,
Out-sweetened not thy breath.”
_Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.)._
The flowers strewed over graves by the Greeks were the Amaranth,
Myrtle, and Polyanthus. The practice was reprobated by the primitive
Christians; but in Prudentius’s time they had adopted it, and it is
expressly mentioned both by St. Ambrose and St. Jerome. The flowers
so used were deemed typical of the dead: to the young were assigned
the blossoms of Spring and Summer: to middle-age, aromatic herbs and
branches of primeval trees.
Amaranthus was employed by the Thessalians to decorate the grave of
Achilles; and Electra is represented as uttering the complaint that the
tomb of her father Agamemnon had not been adorned with Myrtle:--
“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,
Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”
Virgil, when recounting the sorrow of Anchises at the loss of
Marcellus, causes him to exclaim:--
“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,
Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.
Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”
In Germany, and in the German Cantons of Switzerland, the custom of
decking graves is very common. The _Dianthus_ is a favourite flower for
this purpose in Upper Germany. In the beautiful little churchyard at
Schwytz, almost every grave is entirely covered with Pinks.
The cemetery of Père la Chaise, near Paris, exhibits proofs of the
extent to which the custom of decking graves is preserved even by a
metropolitan population and among persons of some rank. Numerous shops
in the neighbourhood of this cemetery are filled with garlands of
_Immortelles_ or Everlasting Flowers, which are purchased on _fête_
days and anniversaries, and placed on the graves. The branches of Box,
or _Bois béni_, which are used in the place of Palms and Palm-leaves,
are frequently stuck over graves in France.
“Fair flowers in sweet succession should arise
Through the long, blooming year, above the grave;
Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,
And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,
To cherish piety’s dear offerings. There
Rich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,--
Mysterious, solemn music, waked by winds
To hymn the closing year! And when the touch
Of sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,
That bloomed around the tomb--O! there should be
The polished and enduring Laurel--there
The green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,
All hues and forms, delicious, that adorn
The brumal reign, and often waken hopes
Refreshing. Let eternal verdure clothe
The silent fields where rest the honoured dead,
While mute affection comes, and lingers round
With slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,
All holy.”--_Carrington._
In Egypt, Basil is scattered over the tombs by the women, who repair to
the sepulchres of the dead twice or thrice every week, to pray and weep
over the departed. In Italy, the Periwinkle, called by the peasantry
_fior di morto_, or Death’s flower, is used to deck their children who
die in infancy. In Norway, branchlets of Juniper and Fir are used at
funerals, and exhibited in houses in order to protect the inhabitants
from the visitation of evil spirits. The Freemasons of America
scatter sprays of Acacia (_Robinia_) on the coffins of brethren.
In Switzerland, a funeral wreath for a young maiden is composed of
Hawthorn, Myrtle, and Orange-blossom. In the South of France, chaplets
of white Roses and Orange-blossom are placed in the coffins of the
young.
The Greeks and Romans crowned the dead with flowers, and the mourners
wore them at the funeral ceremonies. It should be mentioned that
the Romans did not generally bury their dead before the time of the
Antonines. The bodies of the dead were burnt, and the ashes placed in
an urn.
The funeral pyre of the ancients consisted of Cypress, Yew, Fir,
and other trees and shrubs. The friends of the deceased stood by
during the cremation, throwing incense on the fire and libations of
wine. The bones and ashes were afterwards collected, cleansed, mixed
with precious ointments, and enclosed in funeral urns. Agamemnon is
described by Homer in the ‘Odyssey,’ as informing Achilles how this
ceremony had been performed upon him:--
“But when the flames your body had consumed,
With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,
And wash’d with unmixed wine.”
Virgil, in describing the self-sacrifice, by fire, of Dido, speaks thus
of the necessary preparations:--
“The fatal pile they rear
Within the secret court, exposed in air.
The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;
And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.
Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,
And every baleful flower denoting death.”
The repast set apart by custom for the dead consisted of Lettuces
and Beans. It was customary among the ancients to offer Poppies as a
propitiation to the manes of the dead. The Romans celebrated festivals
in honour of the spirits of the departed, called Lemuria, where Beans
were cast into the fire on the altar. The people also threw black Beans
on the graves of the deceased, or burnt them, as the smell was supposed
to be disagreeable to the manes. In Italy, at the present day, it is
customary to eat Beans and to distribute them among the poor on the
anniversary of a death.
The practice of embalming the bodies of their dead, which was universal
among the ancient Egyptians, had its origin, according to Diodorus, in
the desire of the wealthy to be able to contemplate, in the midst of
luxurious appointments, the features of their ancestors. Several times
a year the mummies were brought out of the splendid chambers where
they were kept; incense was burnt over them, and sweet-scented oil was
poured over their heads, and carefully wiped off by a priest called in
expressly to officiate. Herodotus has given us a description of the
Egyptian method of embalming:--The brains having first been extracted
through the nostrils by means of a curved iron probe, the head was
filled with drugs. Then, with a sharp Ethiopian stone, an incision was
made in the side, through which the intestines were drawn out; and the
cavity was filled with powdered Myrrh, Cassia, and other perfumes,
Frankincense excepted. Thus prepared, the body was sewn up, kept in
natron (sesquicarbonate of soda) for seventy days, and then swathed in
fine linen, smeared with gum, and finally placed in a wooden case made
in the shape of a man. This was the best and most expensive style of
embalming. A cheaper mode consisted in injecting oil of Cedar into the
body, without removing the intestines, whilst for the poorer classes
the body was merely cleansed; subjecting it in both cases to a natron
bath, which completely dried the flesh. The Jews borrowed the practice
of embalming from the Egyptians; for St. Mark records that, after the
death of our Saviour, Nicodemus “brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes,
about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and
wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of Jews is to
bury.”
Old English Funeral Customs.
In England, there long prevailed an old custom of carrying garlands
before the bier of youthful beauty, which were afterwards strewed over
her grave, In ‘Hamlet,’ the Queen, scattering flowers over the grave of
Ophelia, says:--
“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!
I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not have strewed thy grave.”
The practice of planting and scattering flowers over graves is noticed
by Gay, who says:--
“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,
The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”
Rosemary was considered as an emblem of faithful remembrance. Thus
Ophelia says: “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray
you, love, remember.” Probably this was the reason that the plant was
carried by the followers at a funeral in former days: a custom noticed
by the poet in the following lines:--
“To show their love, the neighbours far and near
Follow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;
Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,
While dismally the parson walked before.”
It is still customary in some parts of England to distribute Rosemary
among the company at a funeral, who frequently throw sprigs of it into
the grave.
Wordsworth introduces in one of his smaller poems an allusion to a
practice which still prevails in the North of England:--
“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,
Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;
A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,
One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”
It is stated in a note that--“In several parts of the North of England,
when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box-wood is
placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up; and
each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this
Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.” Pepys mentions
a churchyard near Southampton, where, in the year 1662, the graves were
all sown with Sage.
Unfortunate lovers had garlands of Yew, Willow, and Rosemary laid on
their biers; thus we read in the ‘Maid’s Tragedy’:--
“Lay a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal Yew;
Maidens, Willow branches bear;
Say that I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly gentle earth.”
It was an old English custom, at the funeral of a virgin, for a young
woman to precede the coffin in the procession, carrying on her head
a variegated garland of flowers and sweet herbs. Six young girls
surrounded the bier, and strewed flowers along the streets to the
place of burial. It was also formerly customary to carry garlands of
sweet flowers at the funeral of dear friends and relatives, and not
only to strew them on the coffin, but to plant them permanently on the
grave. This pleasing practice, which gave the churchyard a picturesque
appearance, owed its origin to the ancient belief that Paradise is
planted with fragrant and beautiful flowers--a conception which is
alluded to in the legend of Sir Owain, where the celestial Paradise,
which is reached by the blessed after their passage through purgatory,
is thus described:--
“Fair were her erbers with floures;
Rose and Lili divers colours,
Primros and Parvink,
Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,
Columbin and Mother-wer,
Than ani man may bithenke
It berth erbes of other maner,
Than ani in erth groweth here,
Though that is best of priis;
Evermore thai grene springeth,
For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,
And sweeter than licorice.”
In South Wales, the custom of planting and ornamenting graves is
noticed by Brand in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ as being very common.
He tells us that, in Glamorgan, many churchyards have something like
the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this, it is usual
to strew the graves with flowers and evergreens (within the church as
well as out of it) at least thrice a year, on the same principle of
delicate respect as the stones are whitened. No flowers or evergreens
are permitted to be planted on graves but such as are sweet-scented:
the Pink and Polyanthus, Sweet Williams, Gilliflowers and Carnations,
Mignonette, Thyme, Hyssop, Camomile, and Rosemary make up the pious
decoration of this consecrated garden. Turnesoles, Peonies, the African
Marigold, the Anemone, and some other flowers, though beautiful, should
never be planted on graves, because they are not sweet-scented.
The prejudice against old maids and old bachelors subsists among
the Welsh in a very marked degree, so that their graves have not
unfrequently been planted, by some satirical neighbours, not only with
Rue, but with Thistles, Nettles, Henbane, and other noxious weeds.
In Glamorganshire, the old custom is still retained of strewing the
bed whereon a corpse rests with fragrant flowers. In the South of
England a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden
by a young girl nearest in age and resemblance to the deceased, and
afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat at church.
Plants as Death Portents.
Though scarcely to be characterised as “funereal,” there are some
plants which have obtained a sinister reputation as either predicting
death themselves, or being associated in some manner with fatal
portents. Mannhardt tells us of a gloomy Swiss tradition, dating
from the fifteenth century, which relates that the three children of
a bootmaker of Basle having each in their garden a favourite tree,
carefully studied the inflorescence during Lent. As the result of their
close observation, the two sisters, Adelaide and Catherine, saw from
the characteristics of the blossoms that they were predestined to enter
a convent; whilst the boy Jean attentively watched the development of a
red Rose, which predicted his entry into the Church and his subsequent
martyrdom: as a matter of fact, it is said he was martyred at Prague by
the Hussites.
The Greeks regarded Parsley as a funereal herb, and were fond of
strewing the tombs of their dead with it: hence it came in time to be
thought a plant of evil augury, and those who were on the point of
death were commonly spoken of as being in need of Parsley. Something
of this association of Parsley with death is still to be found in
Devonshire, where a belief exists that to transplant Parsley is an
offence against the guardian spirit who watches over the Parsley-beds,
surely to be punished, either by misfortune or death, on the offender
himself or some member of his family within a year.
In the Siebenbürgen of Saxony, the belief exists that at the moment
when an infant dies in the house, Death passes like a shadow into the
garden, and there plucks a flower.
In Italy, the red Rose is considered to be an emblem of an early death,
and it is thought to be an evil omen if its leaves are perchance
scattered on the ground. An apt illustration of this belief is found
in the tragic story of poor Miss Ray, who was murdered at the Piazza
entrance of Covent Garden Theatre, by a man named Hackman, on April
7th, 1779. Just prior to starting with her friend Mrs. Lewis for
the theatre, a beautiful Rose fell from her bosom to the ground.
She stooped to regain it, but at her touch the red leaves scattered
themselves on the carpet, leaving the bare stalk in her hand. The
unfortunate girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was
evidently affected by the incident, and said nervously, “I trust I
am not to consider this as an evil omen!” Soon rallying, however,
she cheerfully asked Mrs. Lewis to be sure and meet her after the
theatre--a request the fulfilment of which was prevented by her
untimely fate.
Shakspeare has recorded that the withering of the Bay was looked upon
as a certain omen of death; and it is an old fancy that if a Fir-tree
be struck, withered, or burnt with lightning, the owner will soon after
be seized with a mortal illness.
Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ alludes to the Daffodil as being under
certain circumstances a death portent.
“When a Daffodill I see
Hanging down her head t’wards me,
Guess I may what I must be:
First, I shall decline my head;
Secondly, I shall be dead;
Lastly, safely buried.”
In Northamptonshire, a belief exists that if an Apple-tree blooms after
the fruit is ripe, it surely portends death:--
“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,
Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”
In Devonshire, it is considered very unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies
of the Valley, as the person who does this will in all probability die
before twelve months have expired; and in the same county, a plentiful
season for Hazel-nuts is believed to portend unusual mortality: hence
the saying--
“Many Nits [Nuts],
Many pits [graves].”
Sloes are also sometimes associated with this portent, as another
version of the rhyme runs--
“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,
Many Nits, many pits.”
It is thought very unlucky in Sussex to use green brooms in May, and an
old saying is current in the same county that--
“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,
You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”
In West Sussex, there exists the strange idea that if anyone eats a
Blackberry after Old Michaelmas Day (October 10th), death or disaster
will alight either on the eater or his kinsfolk before the year is out.
In some parts of England a superstition exists that if in a row of
Beans one should chance to come up white, instead of green, a death
will occur in the family within the year.
In certain English counties there is a superstitious dread that if a
drill go from one end of the field to the other without depositing any
seed, some person on the farm will die either before the year is out or
before the crop then sown is reaped.
There is a very ancient belief that if every vestige of the Christmas
decorations is not removed from the church before Candlemas Day
(February 2nd), there will be a death during the year in the family
occupying the pew where perchance a leaf or a berry has been left.
Herrick has alluded to this superstitious notion in his ‘Hesperides’:--
“Down with the Rosemary, and so
Down with the Baies and Mistletoe:
Down with the Holly, Ivy, all
Wherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;
That so the superstitious find
Not one least branch left thar behind
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.”
[Tailpiece]
Part the Second.
[Headpiece]
ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PLANTS.
=ACACIA.=--In the deserts of Arabia the finest tree is the _Acacia
Seyal_, which is reputed to be the Shittah tree of the Old Testament.
The timber of this tree was termed _Shittim_, translated by some as
“incorruptible wood.” In Exodus xxv. it is recorded that the Ark of
the Lord was made of _Shittim_ wood, overlaid within and without with
pure gold, and having a crown of gold round about it; and in chapter
xxvi. we read that the staves were made of the same wood, as were
also the boards of the Tabernacle and the woodwork of the Altar on
which the offerings were presented. From this same Acacia is obtained
a fragrant and highly-prized gum which is employed as incense in
religious ceremonials.----Tradition affirms that this Acacia--the
_Nabkha_ of the Arabians--was the tree from which was fabricated the
Saviour’s crown of thorns. It has many small sharp spines, and the
leaves resemble those of the Ivy with which the Roman Emperors were
crowned, thus making the mockery bitterly complete.----The Buddhists
make use of the wood of the _Sami_ (_Acacia Suma_) to light the fire
on their altars: this is done by striking it with the _Asvattha_,
or Peepul--the act symbolising generation. This Acacia is one of
the sacred trees of India, and yields an astringent or preservative
substance.----The tree usually known in England by the name of Acacia
is the _Robinia pseudo-Acacia_, or Locust-tree of America, named by
Linnæus after the two Robins, herbalists to Henri IV., who introduced
it into France in 1640. This tree would appear to have somewhat of
a funeral character, since we find the American Freemasons make a
practice of dropping twigs of it on the coffins of brethren. A sprig of
Acacia is one of the emblems specially revered by Freemasons.----“It
is curious,” says Mr. Reade, in ‘The Veil of Isis,’ “that _Houzza_,
which Mahomet esteemed an idol--_Houzza_ so honoured in the Arabian
works of Ghatfan, Koreisch, Renanâh, and Salem--should be simply the
Acacia. Thence was derived the word _Huzza!_ in our language, which
was probably at first a religious exclamation like the _Evoke!_ of the
Bacchantes.”----The English newspapers lately gave an account of a
singular species of American Acacia, stated to be growing at Virginia,
Nevada, and exhibiting all the characteristics of a sensitive plant.
At the commencement of 1883 the Acacia was reported to be about eight
feet high, and growing rapidly. When the sun sets, its leaves fold
together and the ends of the twigs coil up like a pig-tail; and if
the latter are handled, there is evident uneasiness throughout the
plant. Its highest state of agitation was reached when the tree was
removed from the pot in which it was matured into a larger one. To
use the gardener’s expression, it went very mad. It had scarcely been
planted in its new quarters before the leaves began to stand up in
all directions, like the hair on the tail of an angry cat, and soon
the whole plant was in a quiver. At the same time it gave out a most
sickening and pungent odour, resembling that of a rattlesnake when
teased. The smell so filled the house, that it was necessary to open
all the doors and windows, and it was a full hour before the plant
calmed down and folded its leaves in peace.
=ACANTHUS.=--The Acanthus was a favourite plant amongst both the Greeks
and Romans, who employed it for decorative purposes: its leaves form
the principal adornment of the Corinthian capital, which was invented
by Callimachus. How the idea was suggested to the architect is told
us by Vitruvius. A young Corinthian damsel fell ill and died. After
her interment, her nurse gathered her trinkets and ornaments into a
basket, and lest they should be injured by the weather, she covered the
basket with a tile, and placed it near her young mistress’s tomb over
the root of an Acanthus, the stalks and leaves of which burst forth
in the Spring, and spreading themselves on the outside of the basket,
were bent back again at the top by the corner of the tile. Callimachus
happening to pass by, was charmed with the beauty and novelty of this
accidental arrangement, and took from it the idea of the Corinthian
chapter. Both Greeks and Romans made use of the _Acanthus mollis_ in
the form of garlands, with which they adorned their buildings, their
furniture, and even their clothing. Theocritus speaks of a prize cup
as having “a crust of soft Acanthus.” Virgil narrates that the plant
formed the basis of a design embroidered on the mantle of Helen of
Troy; and tells us that the handles of Alcimedon’s cup were enwreathed
with what he elsewhere terms “Smiling Acanthus.”----Old English names
for this plant were Brank-ursine and Bear’s-breech.----Acanthus is
stated by astrologers to be under the dominion of the Moon.
=ACHYRANTHES.=--The _Apamarga_, an Indian variety of this plant,
has given the name to the sacrificial rite called _Apâmârga Homa_,
because at daybreak they offer a handful of flour made from the seeds
of the Apamarga (_Achyranthes aspera_). According to a legend quoted
by De Gubernatis, Indra had slain Vriitra and other demons, when he
encountered the demon Namuchi and wrestled with him. Vanquished, he
made peace with Namuchi on the understanding that he should never kill
anything with a solid body, nor with a liquid body, neither by night
nor by day. So Indra gathered a vegetable, which is neither solid nor
liquid, and comes during the daybreak, when the night is past, but
the day has not yet come. Then with the vegetable he attacked the
monster Namuchi, who complained of this treachery. From the head of
Namuchi sprang the plant _Apâmârga_. Indra afterwards destroyed all
the monsters by means of this plant. As may be supposed after such
a marvellous origin, the plant was soon looked upon as a powerful
talisman. According to the _Atharvaveda_, it should be held in the
hand, and invoked against the malady _Kshetriya_, and against witches,
monsters, and nightmares. They call it the Victor, having in itself
the strength of a thousand, destroying the effects of maledictions,
and especially of those inimical to generation, which produce hunger,
thirst, and poverty. It is also called the Lord of salutary plants,
son of Vibhindant, having received all its power from Indra himself.
The Hindus believe that the plant is a security against the bites of
scorpions.
ACONITE.--See Monkshood.
=ACORUS.=--This aromatic Reed, or Sweet Flag, is absurdly said to
have been called Acorus, from the Greek _koré_, pupil, because it was
esteemed good for diseases of the eye. The sacred oil of the Jews--the
“oil of holy ointment”--used to anoint the tabernacle, the ark of the
testimony, the altar of burnt offerings, the altar of incense, the
candlesticks, and all the sacred vessels, has the oil of Acorus as
one of its ingredients. It is the “Sweet Calamus” mentioned in Exodus
xxx.----The Acorus is a plant of the Moon.
=ADDER’S TONGUE.=--The Adder’s Tongue, or to give it its old Latin
name, Christ’s Spear (_Ophioglossum vulgatum_), was formerly much
prized as a remedy for wounds. Gerarde declared that boiled in olive
oil it produced “a most excellent greene oyle, or rather a balsam for
greene wounds comparable to oyle of St. John’s wort, if it doth not far
surpasse it.” A preparation called the “green oil of charity” is still
in request; and Adder’s Spear ointment (a compound of Adder’s Tongue
Fern, Plantain, and sundry herbs) is well known in country places as
a vulnerary. In olden times an Adder’s Tongue was reputed to be a
wondrous cure for tumours, if plucked at the falling of the Moon, and
applied with the accompaniment of an incantation.----Witches highly
esteemed Adder’s Tongue as a plant to be employed in their spells.
Astrologers class it as a herb of the Moon.
AFFADYL.--See Narcissus.
=AGNUS CASTUS.=--The “Chaste Tree” (_Vitex Agnus Castus_), a species of
Willow, derives its name from the Greek _hagnos_, and Latin _castus_,
both meaning chaste. The name was given to it, according to Pliny,
from the custom of the Athenian matrons to strew their beds with it
during the festival of the Thesmophora, held in honour of Ceres, when
the strictest chastity was enjoined. At the same festival young girls
adorned themselves with blossoms of the shrub and slept on its leaves
in order to guard their innocence and purity.----Agnus Castus was
consecrated to Æsculapius, and also, in the isle of Samos, to Juno.
Prometheus was crowned with it. At Grecian weddings, the bride and
groom carried crowns of it. It was also employed as a preservative
against poisoning.----The seed of this shrub in later years acquired
the name of _Piper Monachorum_, and in explanation it is said that,
following the example of the matrons of Athens, who had discovered
that the odour of branches of Agnus Castus combatted unchaste thoughts
and desires, certain Christian monks made themselves girdles of the
flexible boughs of the tree, by wearing which they professed to expel
from their hearts all passions that love could excite.----Some of
the old herbalists affirm that the seeds of Agnus Castus had a very
powerful effect in arresting generation. Gerarde says “Agnus Castus
is a singular medicine and remedy for such as would willingly live
chaste, for it withstandeth all uncleanness or desire to the flesh,
consuming and drying up the seed of generation, in what sort soever it
bee taken, whether in pouder onely, or the decoction drunke, or whether
the leaves be carried about the body; for which cause it was called
_castus_, that is to say, chaste, cleane, and pure.” The leaves, burnt
or strewn about, were reputed to drive away serpents; and, according
to Dioscorides, a branch of the shrub, carried in the hand, would keep
wayfarers from weariness.----Agnus Castus is held to be under the
dominion of Mars in Capricorn.
ALBESPYNE.--See Hawthorn.
=AGRIMONY.=--The Agrimony or Egrimony (_Agrimonia Eupatoria_) was
a herb much in vogue among the old herbalists, who attributed
extraordinary virtues to it. Dioscorides prescribes it as a cure for
the bitings and stingings of serpents. Gerarde says it is “good for
them that have naughty livers,” and in fact it was at one time known
as Liver-wort. Culpeper tells us that it will draw forth “thorns and
splinters of wood, nails, or any other such thing gotten into the
flesh,” and recommends it further as “a most admirable remedy for such
whose lives are annoyed either by heat or cold.” Sore throat, gout,
ague, colic, ear-ache, cancers, and ulcers are among the numerous
complaints the herbalists professed to cure by means of syrups and
salves made of Agrimony, a plant which has formed an ingredient in most
of the herb teas which have been from time to time introduced.----The
astrological government and virtues of Agrimony appear to the
uninitiated somewhat complicated. If we may believe Culpeper, it is
a herb under Jupiter and the sign Cancer, and strengthens those parts
under the planet and sign, and removes diseases in them by sympathy;
and those under Saturn, Mars, and Mercury by antipathy, if they happen
in any part of the body governed by Jupiter, or under the signs Cancer,
Sagittarius, or Pisces.----Michael Drayton, in his ‘Muse’s Elysium,’
thus refers to Agrimony, among other herbs dear to simplers:--
“Next these here Egrimony is,
That helps the serpent’s biting;
The blessed Betony by this,
Whose cures deserving writing.
“This All-heal, and so named of right,
New wounds so quickly healing;
A thousand more I could recite
Most worthy of revealing.”
=ALDER.=--The origin of the Alder is to be found in the following lines
from Rapin’s poem on Gardens:--
“Of watery race Alders and Willows spread
O’er silver brooks their melancholy shade,
Which heretofore (thus tales have been believed)
Were two poor men, who by their fishing lived;
Till on a day when Pales’ feast was held,
And all the town with pious mirth was filled,
This impious pair alone her rites despised,
Pursued their care, till she their crime chastised:
While from the banks they gazed upon the flood,
The angry goddess fixed them where they stood,
Transformed to sets, and just examples made
To such as slight devotion for their trade.
At length, well watered by the bounteous stream,
They gained a root, and spreading trees became;
Yet pale their leaves, as conscious how they fell,
Which croaking frogs with vile reproaches tell.”
In Germany, Alders have often a funereal and almost diabolic character.
It is a popular belief that they commence to weep, to supplicate,
and to shed drops of blood if there is any talk of cutting them
down.----A legend of the Tyrol narrates how a boy who had climbed a
tree, overlooked the ghastly doings of certain witches beneath its
boughs. They tore in pieces the corpse of a woman, and threw the
portions in the air. The boy caught one, and kept it by him. The
witches, on counting the pieces afterwards found that one was missing,
and so replaced it by a scrap of Alder-wood, when instantaneously the
dead came to life again.----Of the wood of the Alder, Virgil tells
us, the first boats were made:--_Tunc Alnos primum fluvii sensere
cavatas._----The Alder, or Aller, is said to be a tree of Venus, under
the celestial signs of either Cancer or Pisces.
ALECOST.--See Costmary.
ALEHOOF, Ground-Ivy.--See Ivy.
=ALMOND.=--According to an ancient tradition mentioned by Servius,
the origin of the Almond-tree is to be traced to Phyllis, a beautiful
Thracian queen, who became enamoured of Demophoon, the son of Theseus
and Phædra, and was wedded to him. Demophoon, who, whilst returning
from the Trojan war, had been cast by a storm on the coast of Thrace
soon after his marriage with the Queen, was recalled to Athens by his
father’s death. He promised faithfully to return to his royal bride at
the expiration of a month, but failed to do so, and Phyllis, distracted
at his continued absence, after several futile visits to the sea-shore,
expired of grief, and was transformed into an Almond-tree, which is
called _Phylla_ by the Greeks. Some time after this metamorphosis the
truant consort returned, and upon hearing of the untimely fate of
Phyllis, he ran and clasped the tree in remorseful embrace. Loving
even in death, his beautiful queen seems to have acknowledged his
repentance, for the Almond-tree into which she had been transformed,
although at that time stripped of its leaves, suddenly shot forth and
blossomed, as if eager to show how unchangeable was poor Phyllis’s
love.----A second account of the origin of the Almond-tree states that
it sprang from the blood of the monster Agdistis, the offspring of
Jupiter. This fable further narrates that the daughter of the river
Sangarius fell in love with the beautiful tree, and after gathering
its fruit, gave birth to a son named Atys.----A third account relates
how Io, daughter of King Midas, was forsaken by Atys, whom she loved;
and how Agdistis, on the death of Atys, mutilated his body, from which
sprang the bitter Almond-tree, the emblem of grief.----Virgil made the
flowering of the Almond a presage of the crop of Wheat.
“With many a bud if flowering Almonds bloom,
And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume,
So shall thy harvest like profusion yield,
And cloudless suns mature the fertile field.”
The Hebrew word _Shakad_, from which the Almond derives its name,
means to make haste, or to awake early, given to the tree on account
of its hasty growth and early maturity. Aaron’s rod, which budded
and brought forth fruit in the Tabernacle during one day, was of an
Almond-tree: “It budded and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms,
and yielded Almonds.” (Numbers xvii., 8). Among the Hebrews, the
Almond-tree was regarded as the symbol of haste and vigilance, because
of the suddenness of its blossoming, which announced the Spring. The
Mahommedans consider its flowers typical of hope, because they bloom on
the bare branches.----Romanists assign the blossoming Almond-tree to
the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven.----In Tuscany, and other countries, a
branch of the Almond-tree is employed to discover hidden treasures. It
is carried to the place where the treasure is supposed to be concealed,
and, according to popular superstition, its point will turn towards
the exact spot. In the nuptial ceremonies of the Czechs, Almonds are
distributed amongst the wedding guests.----Pliny considered Almonds
a most powerful remedy against inebriation, and Plutarch relates an
anecdote of a notorious wine-bibber, who, by his habitual use of bitter
Almonds, used to escape being intoxicated.----The Almond-tree is under
Jupiter. To dream of eating Almonds portends a journey: if they taste
sweet, it will be a prosperous one; if bitter, the contrary.
=ALOE.=--The Hebrews appear to have entertained a great respect for
the Aloe (_Ahaloth_). In the Bible it is frequently referred to
in commendatory terms, and its use as a perfume is of very great
antiquity. King David, in the Psalms, says: “All thy garments smell
of Myrrh, and Aloes, and Cassia.” Solomon, in the Canticles, mentions
Aloes as one of the chief spices; and in Proverbs (vii., 17) refers
to it as a scent. Aloes is one of the spices mentioned by St. John
as having been brought by Nicodemus to embalm the body of our
Lord.----There are two trees which yield this fragrant wood, viz.,
_Aloexylum Agallochum_, a native of the mountains of Hindostan, and
_Aquilaria Malaccensis_, which grows in Malacca: the wood of these
aromatic trees forms the principal ingredient in the scented sticks
burned by the Hindus and Chinese in their temples. The heart of the
Chinese Aloe, or Wood Aloes, is called Calambac, or Tambac-wood, which
is reckoned in the Indies more precious than gold itself: it is used
as a perfume; as a specific for persons affected with fainting fits
or with the palsy; and as a setting for the most costly jewels. Both
the name and the plant of the aromatic Aloe are of Indian origin,
and it must not be confounded with the common Aloes, most of which
have an offensive smell and a bitter taste.----In Wood’s Zoography
we read: “The Mahommedans respect the Aloe as a plant of a superior
nature. In Egypt, it may be said to bear some share in their religious
ceremonies, since whoever returns from a pilgrimage to Mecca hangs
it over his street door as a proof of his having performed that holy
journey. The superstitious Egyptians believe that this plant hinders
evil spirits and apparitions from entering the house, and on this
account whoever walks the streets in Cairo will find it over the doors
of both Christians and Jews.”----The Arabic name of the Aloe, _Saber_,
signifies patience, and in Mecca at the end of most graves, facing the
epitaph, is planted an Aloe, as an allusion to the patience required
by those awaiting the arrival of the great day of resurrection.
Most Eastern poets, however, speak of the Aloe as the symbol of
bitterness; and the Romans seem to have been well acquainted with this
qualification, judging from the allusion to it in Juvenal:--“_Plus
Aloes quam mellis habere._” “As bitter as Aloes” is a proverbial saying
of considerable antiquity, derived doubtless from the acrid taste of
the medicines obtained from the plant, and made principally from the
pulp of the fleshy leaf of the Succotrine Aloe, the leaves of which
have a remarkable efficacy in curing scalds and burns.----Not only,
however, for its medicinal properties is the Aloe esteemed, for in
some countries, particularly Mexico, the poor derive from it almost
every necessary of life. The ancient manuscripts of Mexico are chiefly
inscribed upon paper made from the fibres of the _pité_, or pith. Of
the points of the leaves of the Aloe are made nails, darts, and awls,
and with these last the Indians pierce holes in their ears when they
propose to honour the Devil with some peculiar testimonies of their
devotion.
=ALYSSUM.=--This plant was regarded by the Neapolitans as possessing
magic qualities, and was suspended in their houses as a charm against
the Evil Eye. Its name _Alyssum_ is derived from the Greek _a_, not,
and _lussa_, madness. In England, the plant was called Alisson and
Madwort, because, as Gerarde says, it is “a present remedie for them
that are bitten of a mad dog.”
=AMARANTH.=--In Spenser’s ‘Fairy Queen’ is to be found the following
allusion to the mythological origin of the Amaranth:--
“And all about grew every sort of flower,
To which sad lovers were transformed of yore;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phœbus’ paramour,
Foolish Narciss, that likes the watery shore:
Sad Amaranthus, made a flower but late,
Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore
Me seems I see Aminta’s wretched fate,
To whom sweet poets’ verse hath given endless date.”
The Amaranth was a sacred plant among the Greeks and Romans: from the
former it received its name, which means “never-fading,” on account
of the lasting nature of its blossoms. Hence it is considered the
emblem of immortality. The Amaranth was also classed among the funeral
flowers. Homer describes the Thessalians as wearing crowns of Amaranth
at the funeral of Achilles; and Thessalus decorated the tomb of the
same hero with Amaranth-blossoms. Philostratus records the custom of
adorning tombs with flowers, and Artemidorus tells us that the Greeks
were accustomed to hang wreaths of Amaranth in most of the temples
of their divinities: and they regarded the Amaranth as the symbol of
friendship. Milton crowns with Amaranth the angelic host assembled
before the Deity:--
“With solemn adorations down they cast
Their crowns, inwove with Amaranth and gold--
Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom, but soon for man’s offence
To heaven removed, where first it grew.”
The same poet, as well as Spenser, classes the Amaranth amongst
“those flowers that sad embroidery wear.”----In Sumatra, the people
of the Batta country lead in times of peace a purely pastoral life,
and are accustomed to play on a kind of flute crowned with garlands
of Amaranth and other flowers.----At the Floral Games at Toulouse, a
golden Amaranth was awarded for the best lyric composition.----In
modern times, the Amaranth has given its name to an order instituted by
Queen Christiana of Sweden, in the year 1633, at an entertainment given
in honour of Don Antonio Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador. On this
occasion she appeared in a dress covered with diamonds, attended by a
suite nobles and ladies. At the conclusion of the ball she stripped
her attire of the diamonds, and distributed them among the company, at
the same time presenting the new order of knighthood, consisting of a
ribbon and medal, with an Amaranth in enamel, encircled with the motto
_Dolce nella memoria_.----In Roman Catholic countries, more especially
in Portugal, the species of the flower known as the Globe Amaranth,
Prince’s Feathers, and Cock’s Comb, are much cultivated for church
decoration at Christmas time and during the Winter. The Amaranth is
also selected as one of the flowers peculiarly appropriate to Ascension
Day.----The species of Amaranth which we know as Love-lies-bleeding,
has, in France, the singular name of _Discipline des religieuses_, the
Nun’s Scourge.----The Amaranth was formerly known as Flower Gentle,
Flower Velure, Floramor, and Velvet Flower. It is said to be under
Saturn, and to be an excellent qualifier of the unruly actions of Venus.
=AMBROSIA.=--The Ambrosia-tree, or tree bearing immortal food, is one
of the most popular guises of the Hindu world-trees. The Paradise of
Indra had five trees, under the refreshing shade of which the gods
reclined and enjoyed life-inspiring draughts of Ambrosia or _Amrita_.
The chief of these trees was the _Pârijâta_ (usually identified with
the _Erythrina Indica_), and this was deemed the Ambrosia-tree.----The
Greeks knew a herb which they named _Ambrosia_, the food of immortals,
and it was so called by the ancients because they believed that a
continued use of it rendered men long-lived, just as the ambrosia of
the gods preserved their immortality. The Moors to this day entertain a
belief in the existence of such a plant. The old English name given to
this herb was Ambrose, which was applied to the _Chenopodium Botrys_;
but the ancients seem to have applied the name of _Ambrosia_ to the
Field Parsley, the Wild Sage, and the _Chenopodium ambrosioides_. The
plant known as Ambrosia at the present day belongs to the Wormwood
family.
=AMELLUS.=--This plant is believed to be a species of Starwort. Virgil,
in the Fourth Book of his Georgics, states that at Rome it was employed
to decorate the altars of the gods. Gerarde says that the Starwort
having a blue or purple flower is that referred to by Virgil as the
Amellus in the following lines:--
“In meads there is a flower Amello named,
By him that seeks it easy to be found,
For that it seems by many branches framed
Into a little wood: like gold the ground
Thereof appears; but leaves that it beset
Shine in the colour of the Violet.”
=AMORPHOPHALLUS.=--The gigantic Aroid, _Amorphophallus campanulatus_,
or Carrion Plant of Java, is regarded with repugnance as a plant of
ill-omen. Previous to the sudden bursting, about sunset, of the spathe
containing the spadix, there is an accumulation of heat therein. When
it opens, it exhales an offensive odour that is quite overpowering, and
so much resembles that of carrion, that flies cover the club of the
spadix with their eggs.
=ANDHAS.=--The luminous plant of the Vedic _Soma_. The plant is also
called in general _Arjunî_, that is to say, Shining. From Andhas it is
supposed the Greek word _anthos_ was derived.
=ANDROMEDA.=--This shrub owes its classical appellation to Linnæus,
who gave it the name of Andromeda after the daughter of Cepheus and
Cassiope. Ovid, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ has sung how, lashed to a
rock, she was exposed to a sea monster, sent by Neptune to ravage her
father’s country, and how she was at last rescued by Perseus, and
became his bride. Linnæus thus explains why he gave the Marsh Cistus
the name of the classical princess:--“As I contemplated it, I could not
help thinking of Andromeda, as described by the poets--a virgin of most
exquisite beauty and unrivalled charms. The plant is always fixed in
some turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was
chained to a rock in the sea, which bathed her feet as the fresh water
does the root of the plant. As the distressed virgin cast down her
blushing face through excessive affliction, so does the rosy-coloured
flower hang its head, growing paler and paler till it withers away. At
length comes Perseus, in the shape of Summer, dries up the surrounding
waters, and destroys the monster.” The leaves of this family of plants
have noxious properties, and the very honey is said to be poisonous.
=ANEMONE.=--The origin of the Anemone, according to Ovid, is to be
found in the death of Adonis, the favourite of Venus. Desperately
wounded by a boar to which he had given chase, the ill-fated youth lay
expiring on the blood-stained grass, when he was found by Venus, who,
overcome with grief, determined that her fallen lover should hereafter
live as a flower.
“Then on the blood sweet nectar she bestows;
The scented blood in little bubbles rose;
Little as rainy drops, which flutt’ring fly,
Borne by the winds, along a lowering sky.
Short time ensued till where the blood was shed
A flower began to rear its purple head.
Such as on Punic Apples is revealed,
Or in the filmy rind but half concealed,
Still here the fate of lovely forms we see,
So sudden fades the sweet Anemone.
The feeble stems to stormy blasts a prey,
Their sickly beauties droop and pine away.
The winds forbid the flowers to flourish long,
Which owe to winds their names in Grecian song.”--_Congreve._
The Greek poet, Bion, in his epitaph on Adonis, makes the Anemone the
offspring of the tears of the sorrowing Venus.
“Alas the Paphian! fair Adonis slain!
Tears plenteous as his blood she pours amain,
But gentle flowers are born and bloom around
From every drop that falls upon the ground.
Where streams his blood, there blushing springs the Rose,
And where a tear has dropped, a Wind-flower blows.”
Rapin, in his poem, gives a somewhat similar version of the origin of
the Anemone. He says:--
“For while what’s mortal from his blood she freed,
And showers of tears on the pale body shed,
Lovely Anemones in order rose,
And veiled with purple palls the cause of all her woes.”
In Wiffen’s translation of the Spanish poet Garcilaso, we find the red
colour only of the Anemone attributed to the blood of Adonis:--
“His sunbeam-tinted tresses drooped unbound,
Sweeping the earth with negligence uncouth;
The white Anemones that near him blew
Felt his red blood, and red for ever grew.”
Rapin recounts another story, according to which the Anemone was
originally a nymph beloved by Zephyr. This is, perhaps, an explanation
of the name of the flower, which is derived from _Anemos_, the wind.
“Flora, with envy stung, as tales relate,
Condemned a virgin to this change of fate;
From Grecian nymphs her beauty bore the prize,
Beauty the worst of crimes in jealous eyes;
For as with careless steps she trod the plain,
Courting the winds to fill her flowing train,
Suspicious Flora feared she soon would prove
Her rival in her husband Zephyr’s love.
So the fair victim fell, whose beauty’s light
Had been more lasting, had it been less bright:
She, though transformed, as charming as before,
The fairest maid is now the fairest flower.”
The English name of Wind-flower seems to have been given to the
Anemone because some of the species flourish in open places exposed
to the wind, before the blasts of which they shiver and tremble in
the early Spring. Pliny asserts that the flower never blooms except
when the winds blow.----With the Egyptians, the Anemone was the emblem
of sickness. According to Pliny, the magicians and wise men in olden
times were wont to attribute extraordinary powers to the plant, and
ordained that everyone should gather the first Anemone he or she saw
in the year, the while repeating, with due solemnity--“I gather thee
for a remedy against disease.” The flower was then reverently wrapped
in scarlet cloth, and kept undisturbed, unless the gatherer became
indisposed, when it was tied either around the neck or arm of the
patient. This superstition extended to England, as is shown by the
following lines in a ballad:--
“The first Spring-blown Anemone she in his doublet wove,
To keep him safe from pestilence wherever he should rove.”
The Anemone was held sacred to Venus, and the flower was highly
esteemed by the Romans, who formed it into wreaths for the head.----In
some countries, people have a strong prejudice against the flowers of
the field Anemone: they believe the air to be so tainted by them, that
those who inhale it often incur severe illness. Shakspeare has given
to the Anemone the magical power of producing love. In ‘A Midsummer
Night’s Dream’ (Act 2), Oberon bids Puck place an Anemone-flower on
the eyes of Titania, who, on her awakening, will then fall in love
with the first object she sees.----A once famed Parisian florist,
named Bachelier, having procured some rare Anemones from the East,
would not part with a root, either for love or money. For ten years he
contrived to keep the treasures to himself, until a wily senator paid
him a visit, and, walking round the garden, observed that the cherished
Anemones were in seed. Letting his robe fall upon the plants as if by
accident, he so swept off a number of the little feathery seeds, which
his servant, following close upon his heels, brushed off his master’s
robe and secretly appropriated; and before long the niggardly florist
had the mortification of seeing his highly-prized “strain” in the
possession of his neighbours and rivals.----The Anemone is held to be
under the dominion of Mars.
=ANGELICA.=--The strong and widely-diffused belief in the manifold
virtues of this plant is sufficient to account for its angelic name,
although Fuchsius was of opinion that it was called Angelica either
from the sweet scent of its root, or its value as a remedy against
poisons and the plague. Its old German name of Root of the Holy Ghost
is still retained in some northern countries. The Laplanders believe
that the use of it strengthens life, and they therefore chew it as they
would do Tobacco; they also employ it to crown their poets, who fancy
themselves inspired by its odour.----Parkinson says that “it is so
goode an herbe that there is no part thereof but is of much use.”----Du
Bartas wrote--
“Contagious aire ingendering pestilence
Infects not those that in their mouths have ta’en
Angelica, that happy counterbane
Sent down from heav’n by some celestial scout,
As well the name and nature both avowt.”
_Sylvester’s trans._, 1641.
Angelica was popularly believed to remove the effects of intoxication;
according to Fuchsius, its roots, worn suspended round the neck,
would guard the wearer against the baneful power of witches and
enchantments; and Gerarde tells us that a piece of the root held in
the mouth, or chewed, will drive away pestilential air, and that the
plant, besides being a singular remedy against poisons, the plague,
and pestilent diseases in general, cures the biting of mad dogs and all
other venomous beasts. Regarding its astrological government, Culpeper
observes that it is a “herb of the Sun in Leo. Let it be gathered when
he is there, the moon applying to his good aspect; let it be gathered
either in his hour, or in the hour of Jupiter; let Sol be angular.”
=ANTHYLLIS.=--The English names of this plant are Kidney Vetch, Lamb
Toe, Lady’s Fingers, Silver Bush, and Jupiter’s Beard (from the thick
woolly down which covers the calyxes of a species growing in the
South of Europe). It was formerly employed as a vulnerary, and was
recommended by Gesner as useful in staunching the effusion of blood:
hence its old English names of Staunch and Wound-Wort. Clare says of
it:--
“The yellow Lambtoe I have often got
Sweet creeping o’er the banks in sunny time.”
=ANTIRRHINUM.=--Columella alludes to this flower as “the stern and
furious lion’s gaping mouth.” Its English names are Snap Dragon,
Lion’s Snap, Toad’s Mouth, Dog’s Mouth, and Calf’s Snout.----In many
rural districts the Snap Dragon is believed to possess supernatural
powers, and to be able to destroy charms. It was formerly supposed
that when suspended about the person, this plant was a protection
from witchcraft, and that it caused a maiden so wearing it to appear
“gracious in the sight of people.”
=APPLE.=--Whether the Apple, the Orange, the Pomegranate, the Fig, the
Banana, or the Grape was the actual fruit of the Tree of Knowledge,
which tempted Eve in Paradise, will possibly never be settled; but it
is certain that not only is the Apple mystical above all the fruits of
the earth, but it is the supreme fruit. To it has been given the Latin
name _Pomona_, which is the generic name of fruit, just as Pomona is
the goddess of all the fruit trees.
The Scandinavian goddess Iduna is in a measure identified with the Tree
of Immortality, which was an Apple-tree. Iduna religiously guarded in
a box the Apples which the gods, when they felt old age approaching,
had only to taste the juice of to become young again. The evil genius,
Loki, having been instrumental in the abduction of Iduna and her
renovating Apples, the gods became old and infirm, and were unable
properly to govern the world; they, therefore, threatened Loki with
condign punishment unless he succeeded in bringing back Iduna and her
mystic Apples: this he fortunately succeeded in doing.
The golden Apples which Juno presented to Jupiter on the day of their
nuptials were placed under the watchful care of a fearful dragon, in
the garden of the Hesperides; and the obtaining of some of these Apples
was one of the twelve labours of Hercules. By stooping to pick up three
of these golden Apples presented by Venus to Hippomenes, Atalanta lost
her race, but gained him as a husband. The fatal Apple--inscribed DETUR
PULCHRIORI--thrown by the malevolent Discordia into the assembly of the
gods, and which Paris adjudged to Venus, caused the ruin of Troy and
infinite misfortune to the Greeks.
The Apple was sacred to Venus, who is often represented with the
fruit in her hand. The Thebans worshipped Hercules, under the name of
Melius, and offered Apples at his altar, the custom having, according
to tradition, originated as follows:--The river Asopus being once so
swollen as to prevent some youths from bringing across it a sheep
destined to be sacrificed to Hercules, one of them recollected that the
Apple was called by the same name--Mêlon. In this emergency, therefore,
it was determined to offer an Apple, with four little sticks stuck in
it to resemble legs, as a substitute for a sheep; and it being deemed
that the sacrifice was acceptable, the Apple was thenceforth devoted to
Hercules. The god Apollo was sometimes represented with an Apple in his
hand.
The Celtic “Isle of the Blest,” the “fair Avalon,” is the “Island of
Apples,”
“Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies
Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns,
And bowery hollows crowned with Summer sea.”
It has been attempted to localise the Island of Apples either at
Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, or at Aiguilon, in Brittany. A Gaelic
legend which asserts the claims of an island in Loch Awe to be
identified as the Isle of the Blest, changes the mystic Apples into the
fruit of the _Pyrus cordata_, a species of wild Pear, indigenous both
to the Scotch island and to Aiguilon.
The Druids highly reverenced the Apple-tree, partly on account of its
fruit, but chiefly because they believed that the Mistletoe thrived
on it and on the Oak only. In consequence of its reputed sanctity,
therefore, the Apple was largely cultivated by the early Britons, and
Glastonbury was known as the “Apple Orchard,” from the quantity of
fruit grown there previous to the Roman invasion. The Druids were wont
to cut their divining-rods from the Apple-tree.
The Saxons highly prized the Apple, and in many towns established
a separate market for the fruit. The following sentence from
their Coronation Benediction shows with what importance it was
regarded:--“May the Almighty bless thee with the blessing of heaven
above, and the mountains and the valleys, with the blessings of the
deep below, with the blessing of Grapes and Apples. Bless, O Lord, the
courage of this Prince, and prosper the work of his hands; and by Thy
blessing may this land be filled with Apples, with the fruit and dew of
heaven, from the top of the ancient mountains, from the Apples of the
eternal hills, from the fruits of the earth and its fulness.”
The old Saxon chronicles relate that before the battle of Senlac,
King Harold pitched his camp beside the “hoar Apple-tree”--evidently
a well-known object, that had doubtless preserved its quondam sacred
character. Saint Serf, when on his way to Fife, threw his staff across
the sea, from Inch Keith to Culross, and this staff, we are told,
straightway took root and became the Apple-tree called Morglas.
Many ancient rites and ceremonies connected with this mystic tree are
still practised in certain parts of the country, whilst others have of
late become obsolete. In remote districts, the farmers and peasantry
in Herefordshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall still preserve the ancient
customs of saluting the Apple-trees on Christmas Eve. In some places,
the parishioners walk in procession visiting the principal orchards in
the parish. In each orchard one tree is selected as the representative
of the rest; this is saluted with a certain form of words, which
have in them the air of an incantation, and then the tree is either
sprinkled with cider, or a bowl of cider is dashed against it, to
ensure its bearing plentifully the ensuing year. In other places,
the farmer and his servants only assemble on the occasion, and after
immersing cakes in cider, they hang them on the Apple-trees. They then
sprinkle the trees with cider, and encircling the largest, they chant
the following toast three times:--
“Here’s to thee, old Apple-tree,
Whence thou may’st bud, and whence thou may’st blow;
And whence thou may’st bear Apples enow.
Hats full! caps full!
Bushel, bushel, sacks full!
And my pockets full, too!
Huzza! Huzza!”
After this the men dance round the tree, and retire to the farm-house
to conclude, with copious draughts of cider, these solemn rites, which
are undoubtedly relics of paganism.
In Sussex, the custom of “worsling” or wassailing Apple-trees still
exists. Formerly it took place, according to the locality, some time
between Christmas Eve and Twelfth Day. The most popular wassail rhyme
was similar to the above, but others were sung by the “howlers.” At
Chailey this verse is used:--
“Stand fast root, bear well top,
Pray that God send us a good howling crop.
Every twig, Apples big.
Every bough, Apples enow.
Hats full, caps full,
Full quarters, sacks full.”
In West Sussex, during Christmas, the farmers’ labourers assemble for
the purpose of wassailing the Apple-trees. A trumpeter sounds blasts
on a bullock’s horn, and the party proceed to the orchard, where they
encircle a tree or group of trees, and chant sonorously--
“Stand fast at root, bear well top,
Every twig, bear Apple big,
Every bough, bear Apple enow.”
A loud shout completes the ceremony, which is repeated till all the
trees in the orchard have been encircled; after which the men proceed
to the homestead, and sing at the owner’s door a song common for the
occasion. They are then admitted, and partake of his hospitality.
At West Wickham, in Kent, a curious custom used to prevail in Rogation
week. The young men went into the orchards, and, encircling each tree,
said:--
“Stand fast, root, bear well, top,
God send us a youling sop;
Every twig, Apple big;
Every bough, Apple enow.”
Cider was formerly not the only drink concocted from the Apple; another
famous potation was called “Lambswool,” or more correctly, lamasool,
the derivation of the word being the Celtic _lámaesabhal_--the day of
Apple fruit. This appellation was given to the first day of November,
dedicated in olden times to the titular saint of fruit and seeds. The
Lambswool was composed of ale and roasted Apples, flavoured with sugar
and spice; and a bowl of this beverage was drunk, with some ceremony,
on the last night of October. Roasted Apples formed an important item
in the composition of the famed wassail-bowl. Shakspeare probably
alludes to this beverage in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ where we find
the mischievous Puck saying,
“Sometimes I lurk in a gossip’s bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted Crab.”
In Sussex, the wassail-bowl was formerly made at Christmas time; it was
compounded of ale, sugar, Nutmeg, and roasted Apples, the latter being
called Lambswool. On St. Clement’s day, in East Sussex, the custom
exists of going round from house to house asking for Apples and beer:
this is called Clemmening. A similar custom prevails on St. Catherine’s
Day, when the children sing a rhyme commencing--
“Cattern’ and Clemen’ be here, here, here,
Give us your Apples and give us your beer.”
In Lowland Scotland, there is an old charm still practised by village
maidens on Hallow-e’en. It is to go alone into a room, and eat an Apple
in front of a looking-glass, when the face of the future husband will
appear looking over the maid’s shoulder.
In Scotland, on Hallow-e’en, Apples are thrown into a tub of water,
and you endeavour to catch one in your mouth as they bob around in
provoking fashion. When you have caught one, you peel it carefully,
and pass the long strip of peel thrice _sunwise_ round your head, after
which you throw it over your shoulder, and it falls to the ground in
the shape of the initial letter of your true love’s name.
In some places, on this mystic night, a stick is suspended horizontally
from the ceiling, with a candle at one end and an Apple at the other.
While it is made to revolve rapidly, the revellers successively leap
up, and endeavour to grasp the Apple with their teeth (the hands must
not be used); if they fail, the candle generally swings round in time
to salute them disagreeably. Another amusement is to dive for Apples in
a tub of water.
In Sussex, on this eve, every person present fastens an Apple on a
string, and hangs and twirls it before the fire. The owner of the Apple
that first falls off is declared to be upon the point of marriage;
and as they fall successively, the order in which the rest of the
party will attain to matrimonial honours is clearly indicated, single
blessedness being the lot of the one whose Apple is the last to drop.
The custom of throwing the peel of an Apple over the head, marriage or
celibacy being foretold by its remaining whole or breaking, is well
known, as is also that of finding in a peel so cast the initial of the
coming sweetheart.
Mr. Dyer, in his ‘English Folk-lore,’ details a form of divination by
means of an Apple-pip. “In Lancashire,” he says, “in order to ascertain
the abode of a lover, the anxious inquirer moves round in a circle, at
the same time squeezing an Apple-pippin between his finger and thumb.
This, on being subjected to pressure, flies from the rind, in the
supposed direction of the lover’s residence. Meanwhile, the following
rhyme is repeated:--
‘Pippin, pippin, paradise,
Tell me where my true love lies;
East, west, north, and south,
Pilling brig or Cocker mouth.’”
It was formerly customary for Apples to be blessed by priests on July
25th; and in the manual of the Church of Sarum is preserved an especial
form for this purpose. In Derbyshire, there is a saying that if the
sun shines through the trees on Christmas Day, it ensures a good crop.
In Northamptonshire, if the Apple-tree should bloom after the fruit
is ripe, it is regarded as a sure omen of death. In the Apple-growing
districts, there is an old saying that if it rains on St. Swithin’s
Day, it is the Saint christening the Apples.
De Gubernatis, in his _Mythologie des Plantes_, gives several curious
customs connected with the Apple, which are still extant in foreign
countries. In Serbia, when a maiden accepts from her lover an Apple,
she is engaged. In Hungary, a betrothed maiden, after having received
from her lover the “engaged” ring, presents him with an Apple, the
special symbol of all nuptial gifts. Young Greek girls never cease
to invoke, upon marriage, the golden Apple. In Sicily, when a young
man is in love, he presents the object of his affections with a love
Apple. At Mount San Giuliano, in Sicily, on St. John’s Day, every young
girl throws from the window of her room an Apple into the street, and
watches to see who picks it up: should a woman do so, it is a sign
that the maiden will not be married during the year; if the Apple is
only looked at and not touched, it signifies that the maiden, after
her marriage, will soon become a widow: if the first person passing
is a priest, the young girl will die a virgin. In Montenegro, the
mother-in-law presents an Apple to the young bride, who must try and
throw it on the roof of her husband’s house: if the Apple falls on
the roof, the marriage will be blest, that is to say there will be
children. At Taranto, in Southern Italy, at the wedding breakfast, when
the Apples are introduced, each guest takes one, and having pierced it
with a knife, places a piece of silver money in the incision: then all
the Apples are offered to the young bride, who bites each, and takes
out the money.
In a Roumanian legend, the infant Jesus, in the arms of the blessed
Virgin, becomes restless, will not go to sleep, and begins to cry. The
Virgin, to calm the Holy Child, gives Him two Apples. The infant throws
one upwards, and it becomes the Moon; He then throws the second, and it
becomes the Sun. After this exploit, the Virgin Mary addresses Him and
foretells that He will become the Lord of Heaven.
In old pictures of St. Dorothea, the virgin martyr is represented
with a basket containing Apples and Roses: this is in allusion to the
legend of her death, which tells that as Dorothea was being led forth
to martyrdom, Theophilus, a lawyer, mockingly bade her send him fruits
and flowers from Paradise. Dorothea, inclining her head, said, “Thy
request, O Theophilus, is granted!” Whereat he laughed aloud with his
companions, but she went on cheerfully to death. Arrived at the place
of execution, she knelt down and prayed; and suddenly there appeared
at her side a beautiful boy, with hair bright as sunbeams. In his hand
he held a basket containing three Apples and three fresh-gathered and
fragrant Roses. She said to him, “Carry these to Theophilus, and say
that Dorothea hath sent them, and that I go before him to the garden
whence they came, and await him there.” With these words she bent her
neck, and received the death-stroke. Meantime, the angelic boy sought
Theophilus, and placed before him the basket of celestial fruit and
flowers, saying, “Dorothea sends thee these,” and vanished. Struck by
the marvellous incident, Theophilus tasted of the heavenly fruit, and
commenced a new life, following in Dorothea’s footsteps, and eventually
obtaining the crown of martyrdom.
Mr. Dyer quotes the following from ‘Notes and Queries’:--“In South-east
Devon and the neighbourhood, a curious legend is, we learn, current
among the farmers respecting St. Dunstan and the Apple-trees. It is
said that he bought up a quantity of Barley, and therewith made beer.
The Devil, knowing that the Saint would naturally desire to get a good
sale for his beer, which he had just brewed, went to him and said,
that if he would sell himself to him, then he (the Devil) would go
and blight the Apple-trees, so that there should be no cider, and,
consequently there would be a far greater demand for beer. St. Dunstan,
naturally wishing to drive a brisk trade in his beer, accepted the
offer at once; but stipulated that the trees should be blighted in
three days, which days fell on the 17th, 18th, and 19th of May. In
the almanacs, the 19th is marked as St. Dunstan’s Day, and, as about
this time the Apple-trees are in blossom, many anxious allusions are
generally made to St. Dunstan; and should, as is sometimes the case,
a sharp frost nip the Apple-blossoms, they believe they know who has
been at the bottom of the mischief. There seems to be several versions
of this legendary superstition. According to some, on a certain night
in June, three powerful witches pass through the air, and if they drop
certain charms on the blossoming orchards, the crops will be blighted.
In other parts of the country, this is known as ‘Frankum’s Night,’
and the story is, that long ago, on this night, one Frankum made ‘a
sacrifice’ in his orchard, with the object of getting a specially fine
crop. His spells were answered by a blight; and the night is thus
regarded as most critical.”
In a Polish legend, derived doubtless from the myth of the Hesperides,
the hawk takes the place of the dragon. A young princess, through
magic, is shut up in a golden castle situated on a mountain of ice:
before the castle she finds an Apple-tree bearing golden Apples. No one
is able to come to this castle. Whenever a cavalier ascends the side
of the ice mountain in order to release the princess, the hawk darts
down and blinds his horse, and both horse and rider are precipitated
down the abyss. At length the appointed hero arrives, slays the hawk,
gathers the golden Apples, and delivers the princess.
According to a Hanoverian legend, a young girl descends to the
infernal regions by means of a staircase, which she discovers under an
Apple-tree growing at the back of the house. She sees a garden, where
the sun seems to shine more brightly than on earth; the trees are
blossoming or are loaded with fruit. The damsel fills her apron with
Apples, which become golden when she returns to earth.
In the popular tales of all countries, the Apple is represented as
the magical fruit _par excellence_. The Celtic priests held the
Apple sacred, and in Gaelic, Norse, German, and Italian stories it
is constantly introduced as a mysterious and enchanted fruit. Mr.
Campbell, in the introduction to his Tales of the West Highlands,
points out that when the hero wishes to pass from Islay to Ireland,
he pulls out sixteen Apples and throws them into the sea one after
another, and he steps from one to the other. When the giant’s daughter
runs away with the king’s son, she cuts an Apple into a mystical number
of small bits, and each bit talks. When she kills the giant, she puts
an Apple under the hoof of the magic filly, and he dies, for his life
is the Apple, and it is crushed. When the byre is cleansed, it is so
clean, that a golden Apple would run from end to end and never raise a
stain. There is a Gruagach who has a golden Apple, which is thrown at
all comers, who, if they fail to catch it, die. When it is caught and
thrown back by the hero, Gruagach an Ubhail, dies. There is a certain
game called cluich an ubhail--the Apple play--which seems to have been
a deadly game. When the king’s daughter transports the soldier to the
green island on the magic table-cloth, he finds magic Apples which
transform him, and others which cure him, and by which he transforms
the cruel princess, and recovers his magic treasures. When the two
eldest idle king’s sons go out to herd the giant’s cattle, they find
an Apple-tree whose fruit moves up and down as they vainly strive to
pluck it; in fact, in all Gaelic stories, the Apple when introduced has
something marvellous about it.
So, in the German, in the ‘Man of Iron,’ a princess throws a golden
Apple as a prize, which the hero catches three times, and carries off,
and wins. In ‘Snow White,’ where the poisoned comb occurs, there is
a poisoned magic Apple also. In the ‘Old Griffin,’ the rich princess
is cured by rosy-cheeked Apples. In the ‘White Snake,’ a servant who
understands the voice of birds, helps creatures in distress, gets them
aid, and procures golden Apples from three ravens which fly over the
sea to the end of the world, where stands the tree of life. When he
had got the Apple, he and the princess eat it and marry. Again, in the
‘Wonderful Hares,’ a golden Apple is the gift for which the finder is
to gain a princess; and that Apple grew on a tree, the sole one of its
kind.
In Norse it is the same: the princess on the glass mountain held three
golden Apples in her lap, and he who could ride up the hill and carry
off the Apples was to win the prize; and the princess rolled them down
to the hero, and they rolled into his shoe. The good girl plucked the
Apples from the tree which spoke to her when she went down the well to
the underground world; but the ill-tempered step-sister thrashed down
the fruit; and when the time of trial came, the Apple-tree played its
part and protected the poor girl.
In a French tale, a singing Apple is one of the marvels which Princess
Belle Etoile and her brothers and her cousin bring from the end of the
world. In an Italian story, a lady when she has lost her husband goes
off to the Atlantic Ocean with three golden Apples; and the mermaid
who has swallowed the husband shows first his head, then his body to
the waist, and then to the knees, each time for a golden Apple. Then,
finally, in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ there is a long story, called the
Three Apples, which turns upon the theft of one, which was considered
to have been of priceless value. The Apple-blossom is considered to be
an emblem of preference. To dream of Apples betokens long life, success
in trade, and a lover’s faithfulness.
=APPLE OF SODOM.=--The _Solanum Sodomeum_ is a purple Egg-plant of
which the fruit is naturally large and handsome. It is, however,
subject to the attacks of an insect (a species of _Cynips_), which
punctures the rind, and converts the interior of the fruit into a
substance like ashes, while the outside remains fair and beautiful.
It is found on the desolate shores of the Dead Sea, on the site of
those cities of the plain the dreadful judgment on which is recorded
in sacred history. Hence the fruit, called the Apple of Sodom, has
acquired a sinister reputation, and is regarded as the symbol of sin.
Its first appearance, it is said, is always attended with a bitter
north-east wind, and therefore ships for the Black Sea take care to
sail before the harbinger of bad weather comes forth. The fruit is
reputed to be poisonous. Josephus, the Jewish historian, speaks of them
as having “a fair colour, as if they were fit to be eaten; but if you
pluck them with your hand, they vanish into smoke and ashes.” Milton,
describing an Apple which added new torments to the fallen angels,
compares it to the Apples of Sodom:--
“Greedily they pluck’d
The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew
Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed.
This mere delusion, not the touch but taste
Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay
Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit
Chewed bitter ashes.”
Henry Teonge, who visited the country round the Dead Sea in 1675,
describes it as being “all over full of stones which looke just like
burnt syndurs, and on some low shrubbs there grow small round things
which are called Apples, but no witt like them. They are somewhat fayre
to looke at, but touch them and they smoulder all to black ashes, like
soote both for looks and smell.”--The name Apple of Sodom is also
given to a kind of Gall-nut, which is found growing on various species
of dwarf Oaks on the banks of the Jordan.--Dead Sea Apples is a term
applied to the Bussorah Gall-nut, which is formed on the Oak _Quercus
infectoria_ by an insect, and being of a bright ruddy purple, but
filled with a gritty powder, they are suggestive of the deceptive Apple
of Sodom.
“Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye,
But turn to ashes on the lips.”
APPLE OF PARADISE, OR ADAM’S APPLE.--See Banana.
APPLE, LOVE.--See Solanum.
APPLE, MAD.--See Solanum.
=APRICOT.=--According to Columella, the Persians sent the Peach to
Egypt to poison the inhabitants; and a species of Apricot is called by
the people of Barbary, _Matza Franca_, or the “Killer of Christians.”
The Persians call the Apricot of Iran, the “Seed of the Sun.” The
ancients appear to have regarded it as a prophetical or oracular
tree.----It was in the solitude of a grove of Apricot-trees that
Confucius, the venerated Chinese sage, completed his commentaries
on the _King_ or ancient books of China, and beneath this shade he
erected an altar, and solemnly thanked Heaven for having permitted him
to accomplish his cherished task.----The name has undergone curious
transformations: it is traceable to the Latin _præcoqua_, early; the
fruit being supposed by the Romans to be an early Peach. The Arabs
(although living near the region of which the tree is a native) took
the Latin name, and twisted it into _al burquq_; the Spaniards altered
its Moorish name into _albaricoque_; the Italians reproduced it as
_albicoces_; the French from them got _abricot_; and we, in England,
although taking the name from the French, first called it _Abricock_,
or _Aprecock_, and finally _Apricot_.----The Apricot is under the
dominion of Venus. To dream of this fruit denotes health, a speedy
marriage, and every success in life.
=ARBOR VITÆ.=--This tree, otherwise known as _Thuja_, is called by
Pliny, _Thya_ (from _thyon_, a sacrifice). The resin of the Eastern
variety is, in certain localities, frequently used instead of incense
at sacrifices. How the tree acquired the name of _Arbor Vitæ_ is not
known, unless from some supposed virtue of its berries. Gerarde,
who had only seen the Canadian variety, says of it that, of all the
trees from that country, the _Arbor Vitæ_, or _Thya_, was “the most
principall, and best agreeing unto the nature of man, as an excellent
cordial, and of a very pleasant smell.” He also tells us that it was
sometimes called _Cedrus Lycia_, and that it is not to be confounded
with the Tree of Life mentioned in Genesis.
=ARBUTUS.=--The Arbutus, or Strawberry-tree (_Arbutus unedo_), was held
sacred by the Romans. It was one of the attributes of Cardea, a sister
of Apollo, who was beloved by Janus, guardian of gates and avenues.
With a rod of Arbutus--_virga Janalis_--Cardea drove away witches and
protected little children when ill or bewitched. The Romans employed
the Arbutus, with other symbolic trees and flowers, at the Palilia, a
festival held in honour of the pastoral goddess Pales. It was a Roman
custom to deposit branches of the Arbutus on coffins, and Virgil tells
us that Arbutus rods and Oak twigs formed the bier of young Pallas, the
son of Evander. Horace, in his Odes, has celebrated the shade afforded
by the Arbutus. Ovid speaks of the tree as “the Arbutus heavy with its
ruby fruit,” and tells us that, in the Golden Age, the fruit afforded
food to man. This fruit is called _unedo_, and Pliny is stated to
have given it that name became it was so bitter that he who ate one
would eat no more.----The Oriental Arbutus, or Andrachne, bears fruit
resembling a scarlet Strawberry in size and flavour. In Greece, it has
the reputation of so affecting serpents who feed upon it, that they
speedily cease to be venomous. The water distilled from the leaves and
blossom of the Arbutus was accounted a very powerful agent against the
plague and poisons.
=ARCHANGEL.=--The name of Archangel is applied to the _Angelica
archangelica_; the Red Archangel, _Stachys sylvatica_; the White
Archangel, _Lamium album_; and the Yellow Archangel, _L. Galeobdolon_.
Nemnich says, the plant originally obtained its name from its having
been revealed by an angel, in a dream. Parkinson considers it was so
called on account of its heavenly virtues. Gerarde remarks of it, that
“the flowers are baked with sugar, as Roses are, which is called Sugar
Roset: as also the distilled water of them, which is used to make the
heart merry, to make a good colour in the face, and to refresh the
vitall spirits.”
=ARECA.=--The _Areca Catechu_ is one of the sacred plants of India,
producing the perfumed Areca Nuts, favourite masticatories of the
Indian races. So highly is this nut esteemed by the natives, that they
would rather forego meat and drink than their precious Areca Nuts,
which they cut into narrow pieces, and roll up with a little lime
in the leaves of the Pepper, and chew. The Areca Palm is known in
Hindostan as _Supyari_, and in Japan as _Jambi_. The Hindus adorn their
gods with these Nuts, and forbid respectable women to deck either their
heads or bosoms with them. According to Indian tradition, Devadamani,
subduer of the gods, once appeared at the court of King Vikramâditya,
to play with him, clothed in a robe the colour of the sky, having in
his hand and in his mouth an Areca Nut enveloped in a leaf of the
Kalpa-tree. This probably explains the Indian custom of presenting an
Areca Nut to guests, which is eaten with the leaf of the Betel. In
China, a similar custom prevails, but the Nut given there is the Betel
Nut.