PLANT MYTHOLOGY
“_I’ll seek a four-leaved clover
In all the fairy dells,
And if I find the charmed leaf,
Oh, how I’ll weave my spells._”
Every Plant is surrounded by a halo of human thought. If one is
able to discern that halo, he finds a new and fascinating interest
attaching itself to each herb and flower. The most humble of them
become fortune-tellers, luck-bringers, and talismen against evil, as
well as dwelling-places of fairies, elves, imps, and other ethereal
mischief-makers.
In the childhood of humanity, the earth was a very romantic place. In
addition to the familiar human inhabitants, there were whole races of
supernatural and invisible beings which wielded great influence over
the every-day world of affairs. Every plant was considered good or
evil, according to the character of the spirits which it was believed
to harbour.
People of this practical age are inclined to look upon these stories
with contemptuous intolerance. “We have outgrown such baby-talk,” they
say, and forthwith relegate whole kingdoms of elfin hosts to their
children’s nurseries, or possibly refuse them their homes entirely. But
to a few discerning minds, these idle dreams of a romantic past offer a
most refreshing contrast to present-day utilitarianism.
The airy fancies of our forefathers should have a larger share in our
thought today. A single flower myth contains more beauty and enduring
appeal than a hundred steel mills. We must go back to the youth of the
race,--to the time of Shakespeare, Milton, and gentle Ben Jonson,--for
our noblest literature. In those days, men actually believed in
fairies, goblins, and all the rest, and were probably better for having
done so. We, with our broader intellectual outlook, can congratulate
ourselves that we have advanced beyond such things, but still
appreciate their spirit and their beauty.
In studying plant mythology, it is interesting to notice that certain
traditions and legends are to be found in all parts of the world
and in many widely separated localities, forming, as it were, the
ground-work of a great universal system of folklore. This would suggest
that plant myths are founded mainly on true and inherent facts rather
than on passing fancies. Almost all the nations have chosen the Rose
for the queen of the floral court, and therefore the most fitting
symbol of love. The White Lily has purity written on its spotless
petals, and could never stand for anything else, anywhere. The Poppy is
a brilliant, sensuous flower, quite suggestive of the narcotic excesses
which its opium induces. Many extravagant plant beliefs of the past had
their foundation in medicine. In the Middle Ages, quacks and charlatans
used herbs having curative powers to exhort money from the masses. A
few of the correctives were of real value, but there were thousands
of out-and-out deceptions. Even so redolent and simple a thing as the
common Onion was sometimes suspended in a room in the belief that it
would draw all troublesome maladies out of the inmates. The first
herbalists were priests, but gradually their art passed into the hands
of professional outsiders, where it suffered greater and greater abuse.
One ancient dogma taught that each plant possessed the power of healing
one particular disease, made known by some outward sign or similiarity.
Thus bright-eyed flowers were good for those with failing sight; red
blossoms of all kinds would arrest nose-bleed; Turmeric, a very yellow
dye, cured jaundice; plants with long, tubular flowers were excellent
specifics for throat troubles.
Many of these medicinal superstitions linger among the more simple
of the earth’s inhabitants today. Dutch and English countrymen still
believe that a Potato carried in the pocket is a sort of protective
charm against rheumatism. In Ohio, the farmers sometimes wear a string
of Job’s Tears seeds in an effort to cure goitre. In New England, the
same magic charm is used to help babies through the troublesome period
of teething.
The devil and his evil spirits have always wielded a large influence
over certain members of the plant kingdom. In Scotland, up until the
seventeenth century, it was customary to allow a small section of each
farm to lie untilled and uncropped as a peace offering to Satan. In
certain English counties, children of today will not pick Blackberries
after a certain date, believing that the Evil One has trampled them and
made them poisonous to humans. German peasants, without batting an eye,
will tell you that the devil, in one form or another, has the regular
habit of stealing portions of their crops.
Of plants that are dedicated to Satan, or more properly, which he
has appropriated, there are many hundreds. Toadstools, because of
their miraculously fast growth and fantastic shape, have always been
associated with the kingdom of evil. It is not quite so apparent why
other more beautiful plants are also handed over to Satan, though a
reason can usually be found. The most alluring and gorgeous flowers are
quite apt to be poisonous.
In old Bohemia, the Belladonna was a favourite of the devil. He
could be enticed from it on Walpurgis Night by letting loose a black
hen, after which he ran. In Russia, people shun the Sow-Thistle as a
devil-plant. Some Germans believe that evil spirits lurk in Lettuce
beds. To the same people, the Herban is the “Devil’s Eye.” Many
nationalities are quite sure that the Herb-Bennett, when kept in a
house, takes its owners out from under the devil’s influence. Thistle
is often used for the same purpose. The Greeks used to place a Laurel
bough over their doors to ward off evil. There is an English Fungus
called Lycoperdon, or Puff-Ball, which produces a mass of dusty spores
not unlike snuff. The annoyance experienced by people in the vicinity
of the bursting pods has led to the plant being called “Devil’s
Snuff-Box.” Children use it for various amusing pranks.
Closely allied to the devil-plants are the witch-plants, vegetable
favourites of his human emissaries. The Elder is supposed to be a
frequent meeting-place of these sinister hags; under its branches they
bury their satanic offspring.
The witches employ the deadly Night-Shade in their vile concoctions.
It is reputed to spring from the foam of the vicious, many-headed
dog which guards the infernal regions. The Vervain and the Rue are
also ingredients. The fact that the former was at one time sacred to
Thor, and was also used in the rituals of the Druids, is a possible
explanation of its evil name. Rue as a narcotic capable of producing
hallucinations, is most naturally a witch’s plant. Strange to say,
both of these plants are sometimes used as charms _against_ witches.
The Romans used the Vervain in casting lots, telling fortunes, and
foreshadowing national events. Many other plants, ordinarily harmless,
become the possessors of evil charms when gathered under certain
circumstances. Thus, Shakespeare speaks of “root of hemlock digg’d i’
the dark,” and “slips of yew sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,” as being
cast into the bubbling pot.
The Fox Glove is “Witches’ Bell,” and is used by them to decorate
their fingers. They employ the large Ragwort as a steed for their
midnight journeys. In Ireland it is known as “Fairies’ Horse.” It
is said that witches use Fern seed to make themselves invisible. In
Germany they employ the Luck Flower for the same purpose. The Sea Poppy
and the Moonwart (_Botrychium Lunaria_) are also numbered among the
witch-plants. To the latter is also given the power of opening locks.
In England, Pimpernel, Herb-Paris and Cyclamen are protections against
witches. In Germany and many other continental countries, the St.
John’s Wort is their enemy and exposer.
The fairies have appropriated many flowers for their especial use.
Despite the disbelief of latter days, to some people elfland still
extends around the globe, and defies all the laws of chemistry and
physics. It is still fairy midnight trippings which form those
mysterious circles or depressions often to be noticed on the dewy sward
of early morning. When the peasant girls of England go out into the
meadows to beautify their complexions with applications of May dew,
they always leave these mystic circles severely alone, for fear of
offending the fays.
Midnight is the fairy magic hour. At the trumpet call of the Harebell,
they gallop to their meeting-places mounted on blades of Grass or
on Cabbage leaves. Sometimes they assemble to the tolling of the
Wood-Sorrel or “Fairy Bell”. For more extended migrations, they travel
in Nuts. They usually dress in green and provide themselves with
mantles of Gossamer. The Irish ones use Fox-Glove blossoms to cover
their hands. In infancy, the fays are cradled in Tulips and throughout
life, they use the Cowslip as a drinking cup, and seek shelter of the
Wood-Anemone in wet weather.
In some localities, it is believed that the fairies create the
Toad-Stools. They are also reputed to gather colours from the sunset
clouds, and with tiny but accurate brushes cover flower petals with
their delicate tints. Fairies seldom reveal themselves to men, but the
lucky possessor of a four-leafed Clover is sometimes privileged to see
them.
From time immemorial, men and maidens in love have sought the aid of
their floral friends. Which of us is there who has not gone to the
Daisy in some heart perplexity of youth, and made its petals say, “She
loves me; She loves me not,” as we pulled them off one by one? An older
and less known superstition says that an Apple seed placed on a hot
stove will hop towards one’s future mate.
In England, the Marigold is used for various love divinations, but in
Germany it is carefully excluded from affairs of the heart. In that
latter country the Star-Flower and the Dandelion are popular in such
cases. There was a time when Peas were much in demand for sentimental
forecasts. On opening a pod, the number of green spheres discovered had
a special significance. The dwarves were supposed to be especially fond
of Peas. Even the prosaic Onion has at times been used to explain the
mysteries of the divine emotion.
The Rose, most superb of flowers, has been extolled through all ages as
the symbol of love. Incidentally, it is the national flower of England.
The Scotch have a pretty ballad legend about Fair Margaret and Sweet
William. The beautiful love of these two young people never realized
itself in marriage. They both met an untimely death and were buried
on either side of the neighbouring church. Soon there sprang up a
climbing Rose vine from the grave of each, and meeting on the gable of
the church, the lovers entwined in the lasting embrace which had been
denied in life. Red Roses, because of their colour, have sometimes been
supposed to have a relation to human blood. The medieval girl used to
bury a few drops of her blood under a Rosebush in the hope that this
action would bring her ruddy cheeks. The Romans used the Rose as the
symbol of love for the dead. They placed it extensively on their tombs.
In the past, there have arisen rumours of plants of wondrous properties
which have been the mere inventions of glory-seeking travelers. Sir
John Mandeville was a famous offender who even issued reports of trees
which produced live animals in their fruits.
The old Greeks used to decorate their tombs with Parsley. When a person
was dangerously ill, it was often said, “He has need now of nothing but
Parsley.”
The humble Bean has at times been afforded superstitious reverence. It
is said that Pythagoras forbade his disciples to eat it.
The anxiety to secure good crops has led to many superstitious
practices. In the pagan days of Germany and likewise in Rome, an image
was carried around each field in order to insure its fertility. After
the introduction of Christianity, the image of a saint was substituted
for the heathen deity, and the practice continued.
Again and again, the Onion, whose name today is only mentioned with
bated breath, crops up among old plant superstitions. Because of its
structure of enveloping sheaths, the Egyptians rightly considered
it a splendid symbol of the universe. In Christian days, St. Thomas
patronized it. Its cousin, the Leek, bears the blossom which Welshmen
still hail as their national flower. It is worn by all loyal patriots
on March first, St. David’s Day.
The Thistle, Scotland’s national flower, was once sacred to Thor. In
those days it was regarded as a safeguard against lightning, from which
it got its colour. Ireland’s Shamrock belongs to the Trefoil family,
and is sometimes called Dutch Clover, though the Wood-Sorrel is claimed
by some to be the true Shamrock. St. Patrick once used it as a natural
symbol of the trinity, through which it became nationalized.
Superstitions of the four-leafed Clover have lingered in the
imaginations of men almost more than those of any other plant. To be
efficacious in bringing good luck, the little talisman must be found
unawares. If slipped into the shoe of a lover, it will insure his safe
return. The finding of a five-leaved Clover brings bad luck.
Superstition plays its part in the evolution of knowledge, and
speculation is the parent of modern science. Astrologers, reading the
fortunes of nations and individuals in the stars, paved the way for the
great and exact science of astronomy. Studious alchemists in searching
for a cheap way to make gold, laid the foundations of the profound
science of chemistry. In a similar way, the old herbalists, with their
secret potions and mysterious compounds, were the instigators of the
accurate study of medicine, and most important from our standpoint,
were instruments which greatly advanced the love and growing
appreciation of plants and flowers.