unto the tame in the number of purplish branches, having thorns and
shining fair green leaves, somewhat larger than the former. From the
branches likewise shoot forth flowers far more beautiful than those of
the tame, or manured, sort, because they are double, and as large as
a double Province Rose, or rather more double, of an excellent bright
crimson color, tending to a silken carnation, standing in brownish
cups or husks, divided at the brims usually into four, or five,
several points like unto the former, but that in this kind there never
followeth any fruit, no not in the country where it is naturally wild.
The wild, I think, was never seen in England before John Tradescant,
my very loving good friend, brought it from the parts beyond the seas
and planted it in his Lord's Garden at Canterbury. The rind of the
Pomegranate is used to make the best sort of writing Ink, which is
durable to the world's end."
The pomegranate was from the dawn of history a favorite with Eastern
peoples. It is represented in ancient Assyrian and Egyptian sculpture
and had a religious significance in connection with several Oriental
cults.
The tree was abundant in ancient Egypt and the fruit was such a
favorite of the Israelites that one complaint against the desert
into which Moses led them was the charge that it was "no place of
pomegranates," and Moses had to soothe the malcontents by promising
that the pomegranate would be among the delights of Canaan, "a land
of wheat and barley, vines and fig-trees and pomegranates, a land of
olive oil and honey." The pomegranate was one of the commonest fruits
of Canaan, and several places were named after it--Rimmon. The Jews
employed the pomegranate in their religious ceremonies. On the hem of
Aaron's sacred robe pomegranates were embroidered in blue and purple
and scarlet alternating with golden bells,--an adornment that was
copied from the ancient kings of Persia. The pomegranate was also
carved on the capitals of the pillars of the Temple of Jerusalem.
Solomon said to his bride, "I will cause thee to drink of spiced
wine of the juice of my pomegranates." There is a tradition that the
pomegranate was the fruit of the Tree of Life and that it was the
pomegranate that Eve gave to Adam.
The Romans called it the Carthaginian apple. The pomegranate abounded
in Carthage and derives its botanical name, _Punica_, from this place.
Pliny says that the pomegranate came to Rome from Carthage; but its
original home was probably Persia or Babylon. It was early introduced
into Southern Europe and was taken to Spain from Africa. Granada took
its name from the fruits and the Arms of the province display a split
pomegranate. Around Genoa and Nice there are whole hedges of it--rising
to the height sometimes of twenty feet. It was introduced into England
in Henry VIII's time, carried there among others by Katharine of
Aragon, who used it for her device. Gerard grew pomegranates in his
garden. Many legends are connected with the pomegranate, not the
least being that of Proserpine. When the distracted Ceres found her
daughter had been carried off by Pluto, she begged Jupiter to restore
her. Jupiter replied that he would do so if she had eaten nothing in
the realms of the Underworld. Unfortunately, Pluto had given her a
pomegranate and Proserpine had eaten some of the seeds. She could not
return. The sorrow of Ceres was so great that a compromise was made and
the beautiful maiden thereafter spent six months in the Underworld with
her husband and six months with her mother above ground--a beautiful
story of the life of the seed!
In nearly all the legends of the East in which the word "apple" is
mentioned it is the pomegranate that is intended. It is said to have
been the fruit presented by Paris to Venus, and it is always associated
with love and marriage.
In Christian art the pomegranate is depicted as bursting open and
showing the seeds. This is interpreted as both a promise and an emblem
of hope in immortality. St. Catharine, the mystical bride of Christ, is
sometimes represented with a pomegranate in her hand. The infant Savior
is also often represented as holding the fruit and offering it to the
Virgin: Botticelli's "Madonna of the Melagrana" is a famous example.
There is also a legend that because the pomegranate was planted on
the grave of King Eteocles, the fruit has exuded blood ever since.
The number of seeds has caused it to become the symbol of fecundity,
generation, and wealth.
MYRTLE (_Myrtus latifolia_) was looked upon in Shakespeare's time as
a delicate and refined rarity, emblem of charming beauty and denoting
peacefulness, plenty, repose, and love. Shakespeare makes _Venus_ and
_Adonis_ meet under a myrtle shade; he speaks of "the soft myrtle" in
"Measure for Measure"; and he alludes "to the moon-dew on the myrtle
leaf," which is as delicate a suggestion of the evening perfume as the
"morning roses newly washed with dew" is of the scents at dawn.
"We nourish Myrtles with great care," says Parkinson, "for the beautiful
aspect, sweet scent and rarity, as delights and ornaments for a garden
of pleasure, wherein nothing should be wanting that art, care and cost
might produce and preserve.
"The broad-leafed Myrtle riseth up to the height of four or five
foot at the most with us, full of branches and leaves, growing like
a small bush, the stem and elder branches whereof are covered with a
dark colored bark, but the young with a green and some with a red,
especially upon the first shooting forth, whereon are set many fresh
green leaves very sweet in smell and very pleasant to behold, so near
resembling the leaves of the Pomegranate tree that groweth with us that
they soon deceive many that are not expert therein, being somewhat
broad and long and pointed at the ends, abiding always green. At the
joints of the branches, where the leaves stand, come forth the flowers
upon small footstalks, every one by itself, consisting of five small
white leaves, with white threads in the middle, smelling also very
sweet."
According to the Greeks, Myrtle was a priestess of Venus and an
especial favorite of the goddess, who, wishing to preserve her from
a too ardent suitor, turned her into this plant, which continues
odorous and green throughout the year. Having the virtue of creating
and preserving love and being consecrated to Venus, the myrtle was
symbolic of love. Consequently it was used for the wreaths of brides,
as the orange-blossom is to-day. Venus wore a wreath of myrtle when
Paris awarded her the Golden Apple for beauty,--perhaps in memory of
the day when she sprang from the foam of the sea and, wafted ashore
by Zephyrus, was crowned with myrtle by the Morning Hours! Myrtle was
always planted around the temples dedicated to Venus.
Rapin writes:
When once, as Fame reports, the Queen of Love
In Ida's valley raised a Myrtle grove,
Young wanton Cupids danced a summer's night
Round the sweet place by Cynthia's silver light.
Venus this charming green alone prefers,
And this of all the verdant kind is hers:
Hence the bride's brow with Myrtle wreath is graced,
Hence in Elysian Fields are myrtles said
To favor lovers with their friendly shade,
There Phædra, Procris (ancient poets feign)
And Eriphyle still of love complain
Whose unextinguished flames e'en after death remain.
The Romans always displayed myrtle lavishly at weddings, feasts, and
on all days celebrating victories. With the Hebrews the myrtle was the
symbol of peace; and among many Oriental races there is a tradition
that Adam brought a slip of myrtle from the Garden of Eden because he
considered it the choicest of fragrant flowers.
The myrtle was early loved in England. In one of the old Roxburgh
Ballads of the Fifteenth Century a lover presses his suit by promising:
And I will make the beds of Roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroidered with leaves of myrtle.
In those days and long afterward there was a saying that "if you want
to be sure of your myrtle taking root, then you must spread out your
dress grandly and look proud" when you are planting your slip. We can
imagine one of the Fifteenth Century ladies spreading her voluminous
and flowing robes with majestic grace and holding her head adorned with
the tall pointed cap, or _hennin_, with veil fluttering from its peak
as she planted the little flower in her tiny walled Garden of Delight!
There is a saying, too, that one must never pass a sweet myrtle bush
without picking a spray. The flowering myrtle is considered the
luckiest of all plants to have in the window, but it must be watered
every day.
Autumn
"HERBS OF GRACE" AND "DRAMS OF POISON"
I
_Rosemary and Rue_
ROSEMARY (_Rosmarinus officinalis_). Rosemary "delights in sea-spray,"
whence its name. "The cheerful Rosemary," as Spenser calls it, was
in high favor in Shakespeare's day. The plant was not only allowed
a corner in the kitchen-garden; but it was trained over arbors and
allowed to run over the mounds and banks pretty much at its own sweet
will. "As for Rosemarie," said Sir Thomas More, "I let it run all over
my garden walls, not only because my bees love it, but because it is
the herb sacred to remembrance, and, therefore, to friendship; whence
a spray of it hath a dumb language that maketh it the chosen emblem at
our funeral-wakes and in our burial-grounds."
[Illustration: "A CURIOUS-KNOTTED GARDEN," VREDEMAN DE VRIES]
[Illustration: GARDEN WITH ARBORS, VREDEMAN DE VRIES]
_Ophelia_ handed a sprig of rosemary to her brother with the words:
"There's rosemary; That's for remembrance; pray you, love,
remember." Probably she knew the old song in the "Handful of Pleasant
Delights"[70] where occurs the verse:
Rosemary is for remembrance
Between us day and night,
Wishing that I might always have
You present in my sight.
[70] See p. 127.
Rosemary was used profusely at weddings among the decorations and the
strewings on the floor. A sprig of it was always placed in the wine to
insure the bride's happiness.
The herb was also conspicuous at funerals, naturally enough as the
herb was emblematic of remembrance. The _Friar_ in "Romeo and Juliet"
exclaims:
Dry up your tears and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse.[71]
[71] Act IV, Scene V.
Sometimes the plant was associated with rue as when in "The Winter's
Tale"[72] _Perdita_ says,
Give me those flowers, Dorcas:--reverend sirs,
For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep
Seeming and savour the whole winter through.
[72] Act IV, Scene III.
Most important was rosemary at Christmas-tide. It had a place among
the holly, bay, ivy, and mistletoe to which it added its peculiar
and delicious perfume. Moreover, it was said that rosemary brought
happiness to those who used it among the Christmas decorations.
Rosemary also garlanded that most important dish of ceremony--the
boar's head, which the butler (or sewer) bore into the hall of great
houses and famous institutions, like the colleges of Oxford and
Cambridge and the City Companies, on a silver dish, preceded by a
flourish of trumpets. The carol he sung began:
The boar's head in hand bring I,
With garland gay and rosemary.
Lyte said: "Rosemary comforteth the brain and restoreth speech,
especially the conserve made of the flowers thereof with sugar." Worn
on the person it was thought to strengthen the memory and to make
the wearer successful in everything. The famous Hungary-water, so
favorite a perfume in the days of Elizabeth and after, was distilled
from rosemary. The leaves were used as a flavor in cooking (just as
the Italians use it to-day). Placed in chests and wardrobes, rosemary
preserved clothing from insidious moth. According to astrologers,
rosemary was an herb of the sun.
"The common Rosemary (_Libanotis Coronaria sive Rosmarinum vulgare_) is
so well known," says Parkinson, "through all our land, being in every
woman's garden, that it were sufficient to name it as an ornament among
other sweet herbs and flowers in our gardens, seeing every one can
describe it; but that I may say something of it, it is well observed,
as well in this our Land (where it hath been planted in Noblemen's
and great men's gardens against brick walls) as beyond the Seas in
the natural places where it groweth, that it riseth up unto a very
great height, with a great and woody stem of that compass that, being
cloven out into thin boards, it hath served to make lutes, or such-like
instruments, and here with carpenter's rules and to divers other
purposes, branching out into divers and sundry arms that extend a great
way and from them again into many other smaller branches whereon are
set at several distances at the joints, many very narrow long leaves,
green above and whitish underneath, among which come forth toward the
tops of the stalks, divers sweet gaping flowers, of a pale or bleak
bluish color, many set together, standing in whitish husks. The whole
plant as well, leaves as flowers, smelleth exceeding sweet.
"Rosemary is called by the ancient writers _Libanotis_, but with this
difference, _Stephanomatica_, that is _Coronararia_, because there were
other plants called _Libanotis_, that were for other uses, as this for
garlands, where flowers and sweet herbs were put together. The Latins
called it _Rosmarinum_. Some would make it to be _Cueorum nigrum_ of
Theophrastus, as they would make Lavender to be his _Cueorum album_,
but Matthiolus hath sufficiently confuted that error.
"Rosemary is almost of as great use as Bays or any other herb, both for
inward and outward remedies and as well for civil as physical purposes.
Inwardly for the head and heart; outwardly for the sinews and joints.
For civil uses, as all do know, at weddings, funerals, etc., to bestow
among friends; and the physical are so many that you might be as well
tired in the reading as I in the writing, if I should set down all that
might be said of it."
RUE (_Ruta graveolus_). Rue was a much valued plant in Shakespeare's
time. There were many superstitions about it which seem to have been
survivals from ancient days, for rue is supposed to have been the moly
which Homer says Mercury gave to Ulysses to withstand the enchantments
of Circe. Miraculous powers were attributed to rue: it was said to
quicken the sight, to stir up the spirits, to sharpen the wit, to
cure madness, and to cause the dumb to speak. It was also an excellent
antidote against poison and the very smell of it insured preservation
against the plague. Rue was, therefore, very popular and was much used
as a disinfectant.
Parkinson tells us:
Garden Rue (_Ruta_), or Herbe Grace, groweth up with hard whitish
woody stalks whereon are set divers branches of leaves being divided
into many small ones, which are somewhat thick and round pointed, of
a bluish-green color. The flowers stand at the tops of the stalks,
consisting of four small yellow leaves, with a green button in the
middle, and divers small yellow threads about it, which growing ripe,
contain within them small black seeds.
"The many good properties whereunto Rue serveth hath, I think, in
former times caused the English name of Herbe Grace to be given unto
it. For without doubt it is a most wholesome herb, although bitter and
strong. Some do wrap up a bead roll of the virtues of Rue, as Macer the
poet and others, in whom you shall find them set down to be good for
the head, eyes, breast, liver, heart, spleen, etc."
Gerard quaintly said:
"It is reported that if a man be anointed with the juice of rue, the
bitings of serpents, scorpions, wasps, etc., will not hurt him. When
the weasel is to fight with the serpent, she armeth herself by eating
rue against the might of the serpent."
Another quaint idea was that rue throve best if a clipping from the
plant was stolen from a neighbor's garden. Like rosemary, rue was
considered by the astrologers as an herb of the sun and was placed
under the sign of Leo.
Rue was also called the herb of grace and the "serving man's joy."
Shakespeare frequently refers to the herb o' grace: once in connection
with salad in "All 's Well That Ends Well."[73]
[73] See p. 237.
_Ophelia_ has rue among her flowers when she distributes appropriate
blossoms to the courtiers. She says:
There's rue for you; and some for me;
We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays.
Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.
Again we find rue in the _Duke of York's_ garden in "King Richard II."
After the sad queen and her ladies have departed, bewailing the news of
the king's deposition, the gardener, looking after them, exclaims:
Poor queen! So that thy state might be no worse,
I would my skill were subject to thy curse.--
Here did she fall a tear; here, in this place,
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace:
Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.[74]
[74] Act III, Scene IV.
II
_Lavender, Mints, and Fennel_
LAVENDER (_Lavendula Spica_). "Hot lavender," _Perdita_ calls it.
Why is this? Turning to Gerard for an explanation, we find he says:
"Lavender is hot and dry in the third degree and of a substance
consisting of many airy and spiritual parts." Gerard had lavender in
his garden and so did Parkinson, who says:
"It is called of some _Nardus Italica_ and _Lavendula_, the greater
is called _Fœmina_ and the lesser _Mas_. We do call them generally
Lavender, or Lavender Spike, and the Lesser Spike. Lavender is little
used in physic but outwardly: the oil for cold and benumbed parts and
is almost wholly spent with us for to perfume linen, apparrell, gloves,
leather, etc., and the dried flowers to comfort and dry up the moisture
of a cold brain.
"Our ordinary Garden Lavender riseth up with a hard woody stem about
the ground parted into many small branches whereon are set whitish long
and narrow leaves by couples; from among which riseth up naked square
stalks with two leaves at a joint and at the top divers small husks
standing round about them formed in long or round heads or spikes with
purple gaping flowers springing out of each of them. The heads of the
flowers are used to be put among linen and apparrell."
Because of its scent, lavender was often included in the nosegay.
Lavender was much loved by sweethearts. In the "Handful of Pleasant
Delights" (1584) it is described thus:
Lavender is for lovers true,
Whichever more be saine,
Desiring always for to have
Some pleasure for their pain.
And when that they obtainèd have
The Love that they require,
Then have they all their perfect joy
And quenched is the fire.
Lavender belongs to the crowfoot family, and therefore is related to
the columbine, buttercup, and monk's-hood (aconite). The ancients
used it in their baths, whence the name from the Latin _lavare_, to
wash. The Elizabethans loved, as we do to-day, to place bags of dried
lavender among the household linen.
MINTS (_Mentha_). Mints occur in _Perdita's_ list with "hot lavender,
thyme and savory." Although many kinds of mint were cultivated in
gardens, Parkinson mentions only three:
"The Red Mint, or Brown Mint, with dark green nicked leaves, reddish
flowers and of a reasonable good scent; Speare Mint, greener and paler
leaves, with flowers growing in long ears, or spikes, of a pale red,
or blush, color; and Parti-colored, or White Mint, with leaves more
nicked, half white and half green, and flowers in long heads, close set
together of a bluish color.
"Mints are oftentimes used in baths with Balm and other herbs as a
help to comfort and strengthen the nerves and sinews, either outwardly
applied or inwardly drunk. Applied with salt, it is a good help for the
biting of a mad dog. It is used to be boiled with mackerel and other
fish. Being dried, it is often and much used with pennyroyal to put
into puddings, as also among pease that are boiled for pottage."
In Elizabethan days it was the custom to strew churches with mint. In
an Elizabethan play, "Appius and Virginia," these lines occur:
Thou knave, but for thee ere this time of day
My lady's fair pew had been strewed full gay
With primroses, cowslips and violets sweet,
With mints, with marigold and marjoram meek.
Pliny said "the smell of mint doth stir up the mind and taste to a
greedy desire of meat." This carries mint-sauce back into antiquity!
Medieval writers believed that the smell of mint refreshed the head
and memory; and in Medieval days the herb was dedicated to the Virgin
and called _Herba Sanctæ Mariæ_ and _Menthe de Notre Dame_. The
ancients dedicate it to Venus; hence it was used as a garland for
brides--_corona Veneris_. The old myth had it that Menthe was a nymph
beloved of Pluto and transformed into an herb by Proserpina who had now
become sufficiently interested in the husband who had carried her off
against her will to be jealous.
FENNEL (_Fœniculum vulgare_). _Falstaff_ speaks of fennel as a relish
for conger in "King Henry IV";[75] and _Ophelia_ presents fennel to
the King to clear his sight just as she gave rosemary to _Laertes_
to refresh his memory,[76] for according to a belief held by Pliny:
"Fennel hath a wonderful property to mundify our sight and take away
the film, or web, that overcasteth and dimmeth our eyes."
[75] Act II, Scene IV.
[76] "There's fennel for you and columbines" ("Hamlet"; Act IV, Scene
V).
"There are three sorts of Fennel," says Parkinson, "whereof two are
sweet." The one of them is the ordinary sweet fennel whose seeds are
larger and yellower than the common. The other sweet Fennel is not much
known and called _Cardus_ Fennel by those that sent it out of Italy.
Fennel is of great use to trim up and strew upon fish, as also to boil,
or put among fish of divers sorts, Cowcumbers pickled and other fruits,
etc. The roots are used with parsley roots to be boiled in broths and
drinks. The seed is much used to be put into pippin pies and divers
other such baked fruits, as also into bread to give it the better
relish.
"The Sweet Cardus Fennel being sent by Sir Henry Wotton to John
Tradescant had likewise a large direction with it how to dress it, for
they used to white it after it hath been transplanted for their uses,
which by reason of the sweetness by nature and the tenderness of art
causeth it to be most delightful to the taste, especially with them
that are accustomed to feed on green herbs."
Another ancient belief preserved by Pliny was "that serpents eat fennel
because it restored their youth by causing them to cast their old
skins and they recovered their sight by eating the plant."
The flowers of the fennel are yellow.
The Greek name for fennel is _marathon_. The Battle of Marathon took
its name from the plant. The story goes that a youth named Pheidippides
ran to Sparta to seek aid for Athens when the Persian fleet appeared,
and he was told that the Spartans could not come until after the full
moon. Very disheartened, he was returning to Athens when Pan appeared
to him and promised victory, giving the youth a piece of fennel as a
token of his prophecy. The battle took place on a field full of fennel
and was known henceforth as the Battle of Marathon (490 B. C.). Statues
of the youth always represented him as holding a sprig of fennel.
Browning has told the story in his "Pheidippides."
III
_Sweet Marjoram, Thyme, and Savory_
MARJORAM (_Origanum vulgare_) was a favorite plant in Tudor and Stuart
times. An old writer informs us that "Sweet Marjoram is not only much
used to please the outward sense in nosegays and in the windows of
houses, as also in sweet powders, sweet bays and sweet washing waters,
but is also of much use in physic."
_Perdita_ classes it with hot lavender and savory.[77] Shakespeare,
appreciating its delicate and delightful scent, brings this out most
beautifully in his "Sonnet XCIX":
The forward violet thus did I chide:--
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells,
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemnèd for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stolen thy hair.
[77] "The Winter's Tale"; Act IV, Scene III.
This comparison is even more lovely than Milton's description of
_Sabrina_ with her "loose braid of amber-dropping hair."
In Shakespeare's time several species were grown: the common, the
winter, and the sweet. They were all favorite pot-herbs and were used
in salads, if we may believe the _Clown_ in "All's Well That Ends Well":
LAFEN. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady; we may pick a thousand
sallets ere we light on such another herb.
CLOWN. Indeed, sir, she was the Sweet Marjoram of the sallet, or,
rather, the Herb of Grace.
LAFEN. They are not sallet-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs.
CLOWN. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar; sir, I have not much skill in
grass.[78]
[78] Act IV, Scene V.
Parkinson writes: