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Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics

Part the Second. (continued 12)

Reading edition

TREFOIL.—Among the Romans, the Grass crown made of Trefoil-leaves was esteemed a mark of very high honour. (See Clover and Shamrock).

TROLL-FLOWER.—The Globe-flower (Trollius Europæus) acquired the sobriquet of Troll-flower in allusion to the Trolls, who were malignant elves, and because of the plant’s acrid poisonous qualities. (See Globe Flower).

True-Love.—See Herb Paris.

TUBEROSE.—The name Tuberose is simply a corruption of the plant’s botanical title Polianthes tuberosa. The Malayans call this sweet-scented flower “The Mistress of Night:” when worn in the hair by a Malayan lady, the blossom is an indication to her lover that his suit is pleasing to her. The Tuberose is a native of India, whence it was first brought to Europe towards the close of the sixteenth century. Its blossoms were at first single, but La Cour, a Dutch florist, obtained the double-flowering variety from seed. So tenacious was he of the roots, that even after he had propagated them so freely as to have more than he could plant, he caused them to be cut to pieces in order that he might have the pleasure of boasting that he was the only person in Europe who possessed this flower.

TULASI.—The Indian name of the Holy Basil (Ocimum sanctum) is Tulasi, under which appellation this sacred plant is worshipped as a goddess. (See Basil).

TULIP.—The origin of the brilliant and dazzling Tulip has been given us by the poet Rapin, who relates that the flower was a modest Dalmatian nymph, metamorphosed into a Tulip to save her from the importunities of Vertumnus. The story is thus told by the Jesuit poet:—

“Dalmatia claims the nymph, whom heretofore A bright Timavian dame to Proteus bore; To her the changing sire his gift conveys, In every dress and every form to please: Disguised Vertumnus, wandering round the world, On the Dalmatian coast by Fate was hurled, Where by her mother’s stream the virgin played; The courting god with all his arts assayed (But unsuccessful still) the haughty maid. Yet, as the changing colours pleased her eyes, He put on every form that might surprise, Dres’t in all Nature’s sweet varieties: To suit his mind to her wild humour strove, No complaisance forgot, no policy of love; But when he saw his prayers and arts had failed, Bold with desire his passion he revealed, Confessed the secret god, and force applied. To heaven for aid the modest virgin cried: ‘Ye rural powers, preserve a nymph from shame!’ And, worthy of her wish, a flower became. Her golden caul that shone with sparkling hair, The lace and ribbons which adorned the fair, To leaves are changed; her breast a stem is made, Slender and long, with fragrant greens arrayed; Six gaudy leaves a painted cup compose, On which kind nature every dye bestows; For though the nymph transformed, the love she bore To colours still delights her as before.”

The Tulip is a favourite flower of the East, and is believed originally to have come from Persia. The French formerly called the flower Tulipan, which, as well as the English name, is derived from Thoulyban, the word used in Persia for turban.——The Tulip is considered to be one of the flowers loved by fairies and elves, who protect those that cultivate them.——In Turkey, the flower is held in the highest estimation, and a Feast of Tulips used to be celebrated annually in the Sultan’s seraglio, when the gardens were brilliantly illuminated and decorated with Oriental magnificence, and the fête was attended by the Sultan and his harem.——The garden Tulip is a native of the Levant: Linnæus says of Cappadocia. It is very common in Syria, and is supposed by some persons to be the “Lily of the field” alluded to by Jesus Christ.——In Persia, the Tulip is considered as the emblem of consuming love. When a young man presents one to his mistress, he gives her to understand, by the general colour of the flower, that he is impressed with her beauty, and by the black base of it that his heart is burnt to a coal.——In India, the Tulip seems to typify unhappy love. In the ‘Rose of Bakawali,’ a Hindustani story, the author, while describing the beautiful fairy of the heaven, Bakawali, says “the Tulip immersed itself in blood because of the jealousy it entertained of her charming lips!” When bidding adieu to the fairy, Taj-ul-muluk says: ‘I quit this garden carrying in my heart, like the Tulip, the wound of unhappy love—I go, my head covered with dust, my heart bleeding, my breast fevered.’——The Tulip is supposed to have been brought from Persia to the Levant, and it was introduced into Western Europe about the middle of the sixteenth century by Busbeck, ambassador from the Emperor of Germany to the Sublime Porte, who to his astonishment found Tulips on the road between Adrianople and Constantinople blooming in the middle of winter. In Europe, they soon became universal favourites, and were imported into England in 1577.——In Holland, about the middle of the seventeenth century, a perfect mania for possessing rare sorts seized all classes of persons. From 1634 to 1637 inclusive all classes in all the great cities of Holland became infected with the Tulipomania. A single root of a particular species, called the Viceroy, was exchanged, in the true Dutch taste, for the following articles:—2 lasts of Wheat, 4 of Rye, 4 fat oxen, 3 fat swine, 12 fat sheep, 2 hogsheads of wine, 4 tuns of beer, 2 tons of butter, 1000 pounds of cheese, a complete bed, a suit of clothes, and a silver beaker—value of the whole, 2500 florins. These Tulips afterwards were sold according to the weight of the roots. Four hundred perits (something less than a grain) of Admiral Liefken, cost 4400 florins; 446 ditto of Admiral Van der Eyk, 1620 florins; 106 perits Schilder cost 1615 florins; 200 ditto Semper Augustus, 5500 florins; 410 ditto Viceroy, 3000 florins, &c. The species Semper Augustus has been often sold for 2000 florins; and it once happened that there were only two roots of it to be had, the one at Amsterdam, and the other at Haarlem. For a root of this species one agreed to give 4600 florins, together with a new carriage, two grey horses, and a complete harness. Another agreed to give for a root twelve acres of land; for those who had not ready money promised their moveable and immoveable goods, houses and lands, cattle and clothes. The trade was followed not only by mercantile people, but also by all classes of society. At first, everyone won and no one lost. Some of the poorest people gained, in a few months, houses, coaches and horses, and figured away like the first characters in the land. In every town some tavern was selected which served as an exchange, where high and low traded in flowers, and confirmed their bargains with the most sumptuous entertainments. They formed laws for themselves, and had their notaries and clerks. During the time of the Tulipomania, a speculator often offered and paid large sums for a root which he never received, nor ever wished to receive. Another sold roots which he never possessed or delivered. Often did a nobleman purchase of a chimney-sweep Tulips to the amount of 2000 florins, and sell them at the same time to a farmer, and neither the nobleman, chimney-sweep, nor farmer had roots in their possession, or wished to possess them. Before the Tulip season was over, more roots were sold and purchased, bespoke, and promised to be delivered, than in all probability were to be found in the gardens of Holland; and when Semper Augustus was not to be had, which happened twice, no species perhaps was oftener purchased and sold. In the space of three years, as Munting tells us, more than ten millions were expended in this trade, in only one town of Holland. The evil rose to such a pitch, that the States of Holland were under the necessity of interfering; the buyers took the alarm; the bubble, like the South Sea scheme, suddenly burst; and as, in the outset, all were winners, in the winding up, very few escaped without loss.

TUTSAN.—The Hypericum Androsæmum was in former days called Tutsan, or Tutsayne, a word derived from the French name, Toute-saine, which was applied to the plant, according to Lobel, “because, like the Panacea, it cures all sickness and diseases.” The St. John’s Wort (H. perforatum) was also called Tutsan.

TURNIP.—The Turnip (Brassica Rapa) was considered by Columella and Pliny as next to corn in value and utility. Pliny mentions some of the Turnips of his times as weighing forty pounds each.——In Westphalia, when a young peasant goes wooing, if Turnips be set before him, they signify that he is totally unacceptable to the girl he would court.——To dream of Turnips denotes fruitless toil.

UNSHOE-THE-HORSE.—The Hippocrepis comosa, from its horseshoe-shaped legumes, is supposed, upon the doctrine of signatures, to have the magical power of causing horses to cast their shoes. This Vetch is the Sferracavallo of the Italians, who ascribe to it the same magical property. Grimm, however, considers that the Springwort (Euphorbia Lathyris) is, from its powerful action on metals, the Italian Sferracavallo. The French give a similar extraordinary property to the Rest-Harrow (Ononis arvensis); and it is also allotted to the Moonwort (Botrychium Lunaria):—

“Whose virtue’s such, It in the pasture, only with a touch, Unshoes the new-shod steed.”—Withers.

UPAS.—The deadly Upas of Java has the terrible reputation of being a tree which poisons by means of its noxious exhalations. Two totally distinct trees have been called the Upas,—one, the Antjar (Autiaris toxicaria), is a tree attaining a height of one hundred feet; the other, the Chetik, is a large creeping shrub peculiar to Java. Neither of them, however, answers to the description of the poisonous Upas, which rises in the “Valley of Death,” and which was seen and reported on by Foersch, a Dutch physician, who travelled in Java at the end of the last century. Foersch wrote that this deadly Upas grew in the midst of a frightful desert. No bird could rest in its branches, no plant could subsist, no animal live in its neighbourhood: it blighted everything near with its malaria, and caused the birds of the air that flew over it to drop lifelessly down. Leagues away, its noxious emanations, borne by the winds, proved fatal. When a Javanese was condemned to death, as a last chance, his pardon was offered to him if he would consent to go into the Valley of Death, and gather, by means of a long Bamboo-rod, some drops of the poison of the Upas. Hundreds of unhappy creatures are said to have submitted to this trial, and to have miserably perished.

VALERIAN.—The ancient name of this plant, according to Dioscorides, was Phu, and in botanical phraseology Garden Valerian is still Valeriana Phu. The Latins called the plant Valeriana, some say from its medicinal value, others from one Valerius, who is reputed first to have used the herb in medicine; but the derivation is really uncertain. The old English name of the plant was Setewale, Setwal, or Set-wall. Chaucer writes:—

“Ther springen herbes grete and smale, The Licoris and the Setewale.”

And, speaking of the Clerk of Oxenforde, he says:—

“And he himself was swete as is the rote Of Licoris, or any Setewale.”

Gerarde tells us that the plant was known in his day by the name of Valerian, Capon’s Tail, and Setwall, but that the last name really belonged to the Zedoaria, which is not Valerian. The old herbalist also records that the medicinal virtues of Valerian were, among the poorer classes in the North, held in such veneration, “that no broths, pottage, or physical meats are worth anything if Setwall were not at an end: whereupon some woman poet or other hath made these verses:—

‘They that will have their heale Must put Setwall in their keale.’”

Cats are so fond of the perfume of Valerian, that they are said to dig up the roots, rolling on them with ecstatic delight, and gnawing them to pieces. The action of the Valerian-root (which the herbalists found out was very like a cat’s eye) on the nervous system of some cats undoubtedly produces in time a kind of pleasant intoxication. Rats are also attracted by the odour of this plant.——Astrologers say that Valerian is under the rule of Mercury.

Venus’ Plants.—See Lady’s Plants.

Veronica.—See Speedwell.

VERVAIN.—The Vervain, or Verbena, has from time immemorial been the symbol of enchantment, and the most ancient nations employed this plant in their divinations, sacrificial and other rites, and in incantations. It bore the names of the Tears of Isis, Tears of Juno, Mercury’s Blood, Persephonion, Demetria, and Cerealis. The Magi of the ancient Elamites or Persians made great use of the Vervain in the worship of the Sun, always carrying branches of it in their hands when they approached the altar. The magicians also employed the mystic herb in their pretended divinations, and affirmed that, by smearing the body over with the juice of this plant, the person would obtain whatever he set his heart upon, and be able to reconcile the most inveterate enemies, make friends with whom he pleased, and gain the affections, and cure the disease of whom he listed. When they cut Vervain, it was always at a time when both sun and moon were invisible, and they poured honey and honeycomb on the earth, as an atonement for robbing it of so precious a herb.——The Greeks called it the Sacred Herb, and it was with this plant only that they cleansed the festival-table of Jupiter before any great solemnity took place; and hence, according to Pliny, the name of Verbena is derived. It was, also, one of the plants which was dedicated to Venus. Venus Victrix wore a crown of Myrtle interwoven with Vervain.——With the Romans, the Vervain was a plant of good omen, and considered strictly sacred:—

“Bring your garlands, and with reverence place The Vervain on the altar.”

They employed it in their religious rites, swept their temples and cleansed their altars with it, and sprinkled holy water with its branches. They also purified their houses with it, to keep off evil spirits; and in order to make themselves invulnerable, they carried about their persons a blade of Grass and some Vervain. Their ambassadors, or heralds-at-arms, wore crowns of Vervain when they went to offer terms of reconciliation, or to give defiance to their enemies, a custom thus noticed by Drayton:—

“A wreath of Vervain heralds wear, Amongst our garlands named; Being sent that dreadful news to bear, Offensive war proclaimed.”

Virgil mentions Vervain as one of the charms used by an enchantress:—

“Bring running water, bind those altars round With fillets, and with Vervain strew the ground.”

The Druids, both in Gaul and in Britain, regarded the Vervain with the same veneration as the Hindus do the Kusa or Tulasi, and, like the Magi of the East, they offered sacrifices to the earth before they cut this plant. This ceremony took place in Spring, at about the rising of the Great Dog Star, but so that neither sun nor moon would be at that time above the earth to see the sacred herb cut. It was to be dug up with an iron instrument, and to be waved aloft in the air, the left hand only being used. It was also ordained by the Druidical priests, for those who collected it, “that before they take up the herb, they bestow upon the ground where it groweth honey with the combs, in token of satisfaction and amends for the wrong and violence done in depriving her of so holy a herb. The leaves, stalks, and flowers were dried separately in the shade, and were used for the bites of serpents infused in wine.” Another account states that the Druidesses held Vervain in as great veneration as the Druids did the Mistletoe. They were never permitted to touch it. It was to be gathered at midnight, at the full of the moon, in this manner:—A long string with a loop in it was thrown over the Vervain-plant, and the other end fastened to the left great toe of a young virgin, who was then to drag at it till she had uprooted it. The eldest Druidess then received it in a cloth, and carried it home, to use it for medicinal purposes and offerings to their gods. In the Druidic procession, to the gathering of the Mistletoe, the white-clad herald carried a branch of Vervain in his hand, encircled by two serpents. The priests, when performing their daily functions of feeding the never-dying fires in the Druidic temples, prayed for the space of an hour, holding branches of Vervain in their hands. Pliny tells us that the Druids made use of it in casting lots, as well as in drawing omens and in other pretended magical arts; he also says that if the hall or dining chamber be sprinkled with the water wherein Vervain lay steeped, all that sat at the table should be “very pleasant and make merry more jocundly.”

“Lift up your boughs of Vervain blue, Dipt in cold September dew; And dash the moisture, chaste and clear, O’er the ground and through the air.”—Mason.

In mediæval days, the sacred character of Vervain was still maintained, and the plant was greatly prized, and used in compounding charms and love-philtres. Known in our country as Holy Herb and Simpler’s Joy, it was credited with great medicinal virtues.

“Black melancholy rusts, that fed despair Through wounds’ long rage, with sprinkled Vervain cleared.”—Davenant.

Its juice was given as a cure for the plague, and the plant was prescribed as a remedy in some thirty different maladies, and was suspended round the neck as an amulet. Gerarde, however, tells us that “the devil did reveal it as a secret and divine medicine;” and R. Turner writes (1687):—“It is said to be used by witches to do mischief, and so may all other herbs if by wicked astrologers used to accomplish their wretched ends.” But notwithstanding that it was used by witches and wizards in their incantations and spells, and was in fact called the Enchanter’s Plant, Vervain was considered to possess the power of combating witches: thus Aubrey says:—

“Vervain and Dill Hinder witches from their will.”

and Michael Drayton writes:—

“Here holy Vervayne, and here Dill, ’Gainst witchcraft much avayling.”

and again—

“The Nightshade strews to work him ill, Therewith the Vervain and the Dill That hindreth witches of their will.”

On the Eve of St. John (June 23rd), Vervain was for a long time associated with the observances of Midsummer Eve. Thus we read in ‘Ye Popish Kingdome:’—

“Then doth ye joyfull feast of John ye Baptist take his turne When bonfires great with loftie flame in every towne doe burne, And young men round about with maides doe dance in every streete, With garlands wrought of Mother-wort, or else with Vervain sweete.”

J. White, Minister of God’s Word, writes in 1624:—“Many also use to weare Vervein against blasts; and when they gather it for this purpose firste they crosse the herb with their hand, and then they blesse it thus:—

‘Hallowed be thou, Vervein, As thou growest on the ground, For on the Mount of Calvary There thou wast first found Thou healedst our Saviour Jesus Christ, And staunchedst his bleeding wound, In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I take thee from the ground.’”

In many rural districts, Vervain is still regarded as a plant possessing magical virtues as a love philtre. It has the reputation of securing affection from those who take it to those who administer it. The gun-flint boiled in Vervain and Rue ensures the shot taking effect. The root of Vervain tied with a white satin ribbon round the neck acts as a charm against ague. Vervain and baked toads, worn in silken bags around the neck, are a cure for the evil.——In the northern provinces of France, the peasants still continue to gather Vervain under the different phases of the moon, using certain mysterious ejaculations known only to themselves whilst in the act of collecting the mystic herb, by whose assistance they hope to effect cures, and charm both the flocks and the rustic beauties of the village.——The Germans present a hat of Vervain to the newly-married bride, as though placing her under the protection of Venus Victrix, the patroness of the plant.——Gerarde tells us that in his time it was called “Holie Herbe, Juno’s Teares, Mercurie’s Moist Bloude, and Pigeon’s Grasse, or Columbine, because Pigeons are delighted to be amongst it, as also to eate thereof.”——Astrologers place Vervain under the dominion of Venus.

VINE.—The Vine was held by the ancients sacred to Bacchus, and the old historians all connect the jovial god with the “life-giving tree”: he is crowned with Vine-leaves, and he holds in his hand a bunch of Grapes, whilst his merry followers are decked with garlands of the trailing Vine, and love to quaff with their master the divine juice of its luscious violet and golden fruit, styled by Anacreon “the liquor of Bacchus.” The old heathen writers all paid honour to the Vine, and attributed to the earliest deified sovereigns of each country the gift of this ambrosial tree. Thus Saturn is said to have bestowed it upon Crete; Janus bore it with him to Latium; Osiris similarly benefitted Egypt; and Spain obtained it through Geryon, her most ancient monarch. Old traditions all point to Greece as the native place of the Vine, and there it is still to be found growing wild.——There are many allusions to the Vine in the Scriptures. Noah, we find, planted a Vineyard (Gen. ix., 20); enormous bunches of Grapes were brought by the Israelitish spies out of Palestine; Solomon had a Vineyard at Baalhamon. “He let out the Vineyard unto keepers; every one for the fruit thereof was to bring one thousand pieces of silver” (Cant, viii., 11). The Bible contains many illustrations borrowed from the husbandry of the Vineyard, showing that Vine culture was sedulously pursued, and formed a fruitful source of wealth. In Leviticus xxv., 4, 5, we find a command that every seventh year the Vines were to be left untouched by the pruning knife, and the Grapes were not to be gathered.——Of the ancient pagan writers who have alluded to the Vine in their works, Cato has left abundant information as to the Roman Vine-craft, and Columella, Varro, Palladius, Pliny, and Tacitus have all given details of the Vine culture of the ancients. More than sixty varieties of the Vine appear to have been known to the Greeks and Romans, one of which, called by Columella and Pliny the Amethystine, has certainly been lost, for they record that the wine from its Grapes never occasioned drunkenness.——The Elm was preferred to any other tree by the ancients as a prop for Vines, and this connexion has led to numerous fanciful notices by the poets of all ages. Statius calls it the “Nuptial Elm;” Ovid speaks of “the lofty Elm, with creeping Vines o’erspread;” Tasso says:—

“As the high Elm, whom his dear Vine hath twined Fast in her hundred arms, and holds embraced, Bears down to earth his spouse and darling kind, If storm or cruel steel the tree down cast, And her full grapes to nought doth bruise and grind, Spoils his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last, And seems to mourn and die, not for his own But for her loss, with him that lies o’erthrown.”—Fairfax.

Beaumont tells us that—

“The amorous Vine, Did with the fair and straight-limbed Elm entwine.”

Cowley speaks of the “beauteous marriageable Vine,” and Browne writes of “the amorous Vine that in the Elm still weaves.” Horace, however, connects the Vine with the Poplar, instead of the Elm. Milton, describing the pursuits of our first parents in Eden, says:—

“They led the Vine To wed her Elm; she, spoused about him twines Her marriageable arms, and with her brings Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn His barren leaves.”

In the Mythologie des Plantes, we find it stated that the Persians trace the use of wine in Persia to the reign of the blessed Jemshîd. A woman who wished to poison herself drank some wine, thinking that it was poison; but she only fell into a profound sleep, and thus the Persians learnt in Jemshîd’s reign the use of the juice of the Grape. Olearius, in 1637, heard in Persia the following legend:—To console the poor and unhappy, God sent on earth the angels Aroth and Maroth, with the injunctions not to kill anyone, not to do any injustice, and not to drink any wine. A beautiful woman, who had quarrelled with her husband, appealed for justice to the two angels, and asked them to partake of some wine. The angels not only consented, but, after having indulged rather freely, began to ask other favours of the lovely woman. After a little hesitation, she agreed to comply, provided that the angels should first show her the way to ascend to heaven, and to descend again to the earth. The angels assented; but when the woman, who was as virtuous as she was beautiful, reached heaven, she would not descend again to earth, and there she remains, changed into the most brilliant star in the skies.——With the Mandans, a tribe of American Indians, the Vine is connected with the tradition concerning their origin. They believe that the whole nation resided in one large village, underground, near a subterraneous lake. A Grape Vine extended its roots down to their habitation, and gave them a view of the light. Some of the most adventurous climbed up the Vine, and were delighted with the sight of the earth, which they found covered with buffaloes, and rich with all kinds of fruit. Returning with the Grapes they had gathered, their countrymen were so pleased with the taste of them, that the whole nation resolved to leave their dull residence for the charms of the upper region. Men, women, and children, therefore forthwith proceeded to ascend by means of the Vine, but when about half the nation had reached the surface of the earth, a very stout woman, who was laboriously clambering up the Vine, broke it with her weight, and debarred herself and the rest of the nation from seeing the light of the sun. Those who had reached the earth’s surface made themselves a village, and formed the tribe of the Mandans, who, when they die, expect to return to the original settlement of their forefathers; the good reaching the ancient village by means of the subterranean lake, which the burden of the sins of the wicked will not enable them to cross.——Wild Vines differ in many respects from the cultivated Vine; several distinct species are found in Java, India, and America; one first found on the banks of the Catawba, from which the famous Catawba wine is made, is now extensively cultivated on the Ohio, or La Belle Rivière; its product has been lauded by Longfellow, who sings—

“There grows no Vine By the haunted Rhine, By Danube or Guadalquiver, Nor an island or cape That bears such a Grape As grown by the Beautiful River.”

The wood of the Vitis sylvestris was used by the Greeks in the instrument they employed for producing fire. The Aryan method of kindling sacred fire by wood friction was practised both by Greeks and Romans down to a late period. The Greeks called their kindling instrument pyreia, and the drilling stick which worked in it trupanon; and according to Theophrastus and Pliny, the lower part of the pyreia was formed of the wood of the wild Vine, Ivy, or Athragene.——To dream of Vines denotes health, prosperity, abundance, and fertility, “for which,” says a dream oracle, “we have the example of Astyages, King of the Medes, who dreamed that his daughter brought forth a Vine, which was a prognostic of the grandeur, riches, and felicity of the great Cyrus, who was born of her after this dream.”——Culpeper states that the Vine is “a gallant tree of the Sun, very sympathetical with the body of man; and that is the reason spirits of wine is the greatest cordial among all vegetables.”

VIOLET.—According to Rapin, the Violet was once a fair nymph, who was changed by Diana into this flower to avoid the importunities of Apollo. The poet thus describes the metamorphosis:—

“Next from the Vi’let choice perfumes exhale; She now disguised in a blue dusky veil Springs through the humble grass an humble flow’r, Her stature little and her raiment poor. If truth in ancient poems is convey’d, This modest flower was once a charming maid, Her name Ianthis, of Diana’s train, The brightest nymph that ever graced a plain; Whom (while Pherean herds the virgin fed) Apollo saw, and courted to his bed; But, lov’d in vain, the frighted virgin fled To woods herself and her complaints she bore And sought protection from Diana’s pow’r, Who thus advis’d: ‘From mountains, sister, fly; Phœbus loves mountains and an open sky.’ To vales and shady springs she bashful ran, In thickets hid her charms, but all in vain: For he her virtue and her flight admir’d, The more she blush’d, the more the god was fired. And now his love and wit new frauds prepare, The goddess cried, ‘Since beauty’s such a snare, Ah, rather perish that destructive grace.’ Then stain’d with dusky blue the virgin’s face: Discolour’d thus an humbler state she prov’d, Less fair, but by the goddess more belov’d; Changed to a Violet with this praise she meets, Chaste she retires to keep her former sweets. The lowest places with this flower abound, The valuable gift of untill’d ground; Nor yet disgraced, though amongst Briars brought forth, So rich her odour is, so true her worth.”

Ion, the Greek name for the Violet, is reputed to have been bestowed on it because, when Jupiter had metamorphosed Io into a white heifer, he caused sweet Violets to spring from the earth, in order to present her with herbage worthy of her.

“We are Violets blue, For our sweetness found, Careless in the morning shades, Looking on the ground; Love’s dropp’d eyelids and a kiss, Such our breath and blueness is. Io, the mild shape, Hidden by Jove’s fears, Found us first i’ the sward, when she For hunger stooped in tears; Wheresoe’er her lips she sets Said Jove, be breaths called Violets.”

In one of the poems of his ‘Hesperides,’ however, Herrick gives a different version of the origin of Violets. According to the wayward fancy of this old poet, Violets are the descendants of some unfortunate girls, who, having defeated Venus in a dispute she had with Cupid on the delicate point as to whether she or they surpassed in sweetness, were beaten blue by the goddess in her jealous rage.——Some etymologists trace the Greek names Ion to Ia, the daughter of Midas, who was betrothed to Atys, and transformed by Diana into a Violet in order conceal her from Phœbus.——Another derivation of the name is found in the story that some nymphs of Ionia, who lived on the banks of the river Cytherus, first presented these flowers to Ion, who had led an Ionian colony into Attica.——The Greek grammarian Lycophron, who lived in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus (about 280 years B.C.), was fond of making anagrams, and from the name of the Queen Arsinoe extracted “Violet of Juno.” Shakspeare, calls these favourite flowers

“Violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, Or Cytherea’s breath.”—Winter’s Tale.

In all eastern countries, the Violet is a favourite flower, and a sherbet flavoured with its blossoms is a common drink at Persian and Arabian banquets. So delicious is this beverage, that Tavernier specially remembers that it is drunk by the Grand Seignior himself. There is a legend, that Mahomet once remarked: “The excellence of the extract of Violets above all other extracts is as the excellence of me above all the rest of the creation: it is cold in Summer, and it is hot in Winter.” Another Oriental saying is, “The excellence of the Violet is as the excellence of El Islam above all other religions.”—At the floral games, instituted at Toulouse by Clemence Isaure in the early part of the fourteenth century, in the time of the Troubadours, the prize awarded to the author of the best poetical composition consisted of a golden Violet. The fair founder of these games is stated, whilst undergoing a weary imprisonment, to have sent her chosen flower, the Violet, to her knight, that he might wear the emblem of her constancy; and the flower thus became, with the Troubadours, a symbol of this virtue. These floral games are still celebrated every year.——Along with other flowers, the Violet was assigned by the ancients to Venus.——It is said that Proserpine was gathering Violets as well as Narcissus when she was seized by Pluto.——The Athenians more especially affected the Violet; everywhere throughout the city of Athens they set up tablets engraven with the name, and preferred for themselves above all other names, that of “Athenian crowned with Violets.” The Romans, also, were extremely partial to the Violet, and cultivated it largely in their gardens. A favourite beverage of theirs was a wine made from the flower.——The Violet was, in olden days, regarded in England as an emblem of constancy, as we find by an old sonnet:—

“Violet is for faithfulnesse, Which in me shall abide; Hoping likewise that from your heart You will not let it slide.”

The Violet is considered to be a funeral flower, and we find that in mediæval times it was among the flowers used in the old ceremony called “Creeping to the Crosse,” when on Good Friday priests clad in crimson, and “singing dolefully,” carried the image of the Cross, accompanied by another image representing a person just dead—

“With tapers all the people come, And at the barriers stay, Where down upon their knees they fall, And night and day they pray; And Violets and ev’ry kind Of flowers about the grave They strawe, and bring in all The presents that they have.”

It was formerly commonly believed in England that when Violets and Roses flourished in Autumn, there would be some epidemic in the ensuing year. In Worcestershire, the safety of the farmer’s young broods of chickens and ducks is thought to be sadly endangered by anyone taking less than a handful of Violets or Primroses into his house.——Pliny had so high an opinion of the medicinal virtues of the Violet, as to assert that a garland of Violets worn about the head prevented headache or dizziness. In the time of Charles II., a conserve, called Violet-sugar or Violet-plate, was recommended by physicians to consumptive patients.——The Violet has always been in high favour with the French, and is now the recognised badge of the Imperial party. The flower became identified with the Bonapartists during Napoleon the First’s exile at Elba. When about to depart for that island, he comforted his adherents by promising to return with the Violets:—

“Farewell to thee, France! but when liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then; The Violet grows in the depths of thy valleys, Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again.”—Byron.

His followers, perhaps remembering that “Violet is for faithfulness,” henceforth adopted the flower as their badge, and during his exile were accustomed to toast his health under the name of Caporal Violette, or “the flower that returns with the Spring.” So well understood did the political significance of the flower become, that when Mddle. Mars appeared on the stage wearing Violets on her dress, she was loudly hissed by the body-guard of King Louis. It is said that the Empress Eugénie, when wooed by Napoleon III., signified her willingness to share with him the throne of France by appearing one evening wearing Violets in her dress and hair, and carrying Violets in her hands. Afterwards, when living at Chiselhurst, Violet bouquets were sent in profusion to the Imperial exiles, and, mingled with immortelles, were piled upon the tomb of Napoleon III.——The famous actress, Clairon, was so fond of the Violet, that one of her worshippers took pains to cultivate it for her sake, and for thirty-seven years never failed to send her a bouquet of Violets every morning during their season of bloom; an offering so greatly appreciated by its recipient, that she used to strip off the petals every evening, make an infusion of them, and drink it like tea.——To dream of admiring the Violet in a garden is deemed a prognostic of advancement in life.——By astrologers the Violet is held to be under the dominion of Venus.

VIPER’S BUGLOSS.—The Echium vulgare, or Viper’s Bugloss, is one of the handsomest of English wild flowers. Its seed resembling the head of the viper, it was supposed on the doctrine of signatures to cure the bite of that reptile: whilst its spotted stem indicated to the old herbalists and simplers that the plant was specially created to counteract the poison of speckled vipers and snakes. Dioscorides affirmed that anyone who had taken the herb before being bitten would not be hurt by the poison of any serpent. The French call it la Vipérine, and the Italians Viperina.——In England it is also known as Snake’s Bugloss and Cat’s Tail.——According to astrologers, the Viper’s Bugloss is a herb of the Sun.

VIPER’S GRASS.—Scorzonera edulis has obtained its Latin name from the Italian Scorzone, a venomous serpent whose bite the grass is supposed to heal, and whose form its twisted roots are thought to resemble. According to Monardus, a Spanish physician, quoted by Parkinson, the English name of Viper’s Grass was given to it because “a Moor, a bond-slave, did help those that were bitten of that venomous beast, the viper, which they of Catalonia called Escuerso, with the juice of this herbe, which both took away the poison, and healed the bitten place very quickly, when Treakle and other things would do no good.”

Virgin Mary’s Plants.—See Lady’s Plants.

Virgin’s Bower.—See Clematis.

Wake Robin.—See Arum.

WALLFLOWER.—The Wallflower (Cheiranthus Cheiri) belongs to the family of Stocks, and was, in fact, introduced from Spain under the name of Wall Stock-Gillofer, which afterwards became Wall Gilliflower, and finally Wallflower. In Turner’s ‘Herbal,’ it is called Wall-Gelover and Hartis Ease.——Tradition gives a poetical origin to this flower. It tells that, in bygone days, a castle stood near the river Tweed, in which a fair maiden was kept a prisoner, having plighted her troth and given her heart’s affection to the young heir of a hostile clan; but blood having been shed between the chiefs on either side, the deadly hatred cherished in those lawless days forbade all thoughts of the union. The gallant tried various stratagems to get possession of his betrothed, all of which failed, until at last he gained admission to the castle disguised in the garb of a wandering troubadour, and as such he sang before his lady-love, and finally arranged, with the aid of a serving-woman, that the maiden should effect her escape, while he should await her arrival with a noble courser and armed men. Herrick tells us the conclusion of the story in the following lines:—

“Up she got upon a wall, Attempted down to slide withal. But the silken twist untied, So she fell and, bruised, she died. Love in pity of the deed, And her loving luckless speed, Turn’d her to this plant we call Now the Flower of the Wall.”

From the fact that Wallflowers grew upon old walls, and were seen on the casements and battlements of ancient castles, and among the ruins of abbeys, the minstrels and troubadours were accustomed to wear a bouquet of these flowers as the emblem of an affection which is proof against time and misfortune.——Dreams of Wallflowers imply—to a lover that the object of his affection will be true and constant; to a sickly person that recovery will shortly follow; to a lady who dreams that she is plucking the flower for her bouquet, that the worthiest of her admirers has yet to propose to her.——According to astrologers, the Moon governs the Wallflower.

WALNUT.—The origin of the Walnut-tree is to be found in the story of Carya, the youngest of the three daughters of Dion, king of Laconia. These sisters had received the gift of prophecy from Apollo as a reward for the hospitality their father had shown to the god, but on the condition that they were never to misuse the divine gift, and never to enquire into matters of which it became their sex to remain ignorant. This promise was broken when Bacchus convinced Carya of his love for her. The elder sisters, being jealous, endeavoured to prevent Bacchus from meeting Carya, and he in revenge turned them into stones, and transformed his beloved Carya into the tree so called in Greek—the Nux, or Walnut-tree of the Latins, the fruit of which was considered by the ancients, in consequence of these intrigues, to promote the powers of love.——It is necessary, in considering the folk-lore of the Walnut, to separate the tree from the nut. The tree is feared as a tree of ill omen, and is regarded as a favourite haunt of witches. The shade of the Walnut-tree was held by the Romans to be particularly baneful. The Black Walnut will not let anything grow under it, and if planted in an orchard will kill all the Apple-trees in its neighbourhood. The Nut is, on the contrary, considered propitious, favourable to marriage, and the symbol of fecundity and abundance. The ceremony of throwing Nuts at a wedding, for which boys scrambled, is said to have been of Athenian origin. A similar custom obtained among the Romans, at whose marriage festivities Walnuts were commonly strewed. Catullus exclaims:—

“Let the air with Hymen ring Hymen, Io Hymen, sing. Soon the Nuts will now be flung; Soon the wanton verses sung; Soon the bridegroom will be told Of the tricks he played of old. License then his love had got, But a husband has it not: Let the air with Hymen ring, Hymen, Io Hymen, sing.”—Leigh Hunt.

Virgil alludes to the custom of scrambling for Nuts at weddings, in his Eighth Pastoral:—

“Prepare the lights O Mopsus! and perform the bridal rites; Scatter thy Nuts among the scrambling boys.”

Prof. De Gubernatis says, that the young bridegroom of modern Rome throws Nuts on the pathway, evidently as a symbol of fecundity. In Piedmont, there is a saying that “Bread and Nuts are food for married people.” In Sicily, at Modica, they strew Nuts and Corn in the path of the newly-married couple. In Greece, the bride and bridegroom distribute Nuts among those assisting at the marriage rites. In Roumania, Nuts are distributed at weddings; and among the Lettish peasantry, Nuts and Gingerbread-Nuts are presented to wedding-guests.——A Lithuanian legend recounts that at the deluge, as men were being drowned, Perkun (the chief deity of the race) was eating Nuts. He dropped the shells in the raging waters, and in the shells certain virtuous people escaped, and afterward repeopled the earth. De Gubernatis, referring to this legend, says that here the Walnut becomes undoubtedly an emblem of regeneration: “This is the reason why, in Belgium, on Michaelmas Day (a funereal day), young girls take marriage auguries from Nuts. Having mingled some full Nuts with others which have been emptied, and the shells carefully fastened together again, they shut their eyes, and select one at hazard. If it happens to be a full Nut, it betokens that they will soon be happily married, for it is St. Michael who has given them good husbands.” In Italy, a Nut with three segments is considered most lucky. Carried in the pocket, it preserves its owner from lightning, witchcraft, the Evil Eye, and fever; it facilitates conquest, gives happiness, and performs other benign services. In Bologna, it is thought that if one of these Nuts be placed under the chair of a witch, she will be unable to get up; and it thus becomes an infallible means of discovering witches.——The Walnut has become in Europe, and especially in Italy, an accursed tree. The ancients thought it was dear to Proserpine and all the deities of the infernal regions. In Germany, the Black Walnut is regarded as a sinister tree, just as the Oak is looked upon as a tree of good omen.——At Rome, there is a tradition that the church Santa Maria del Popolo was built by order of Paschal II., on the spot where formerly grew a Walnut-tree, round which troops of demons danced during the night. Near Prescia, in Tuscany, we are told by Prof. Giuliani, there is a Walnut-tree where witches are popularly supposed to sleep: the people of the district say that witches love Walnut-trees. At Bologna, the peasantry think that witches hold a nocturnal meeting beneath the Walnut-trees on the Vigil of St. John. But among all other Walnut-trees, the most infamous and the most accursed is the Walnut of Benevento, regarding which there are many tales of its being haunted by the Devil and witches. It is said that St. Barbatus, the patron of Benevento, who lived in the time of Duke Romuald, was a priest who was endowed with the power of exorcising devils by his prayers. At that time the inhabitants still worshipped a Walnut-tree on which was to be distinguished the effigy of a viper, and beneath this tree the people performed many superstitious and heathenish rites. The Emperor Constantius laid siege to Benevento; the citizens were in despair, but Barbatus rebuked them, and persuaded them that God had taken this means to punish them for their idolatry; so, with Romuald, they agreed to be converted to Christianity, and made Barbatus bishop of the town. Then Barbatus uprooted the accursed Walnut-tree, and the Devil was seen in the form of a serpent crawling away from beneath its roots. Upon being sprinkled with holy water, however, he disappeared; but through his satanic power, whenever a meeting of demons is desired, or a witches’ sabbath is to be held, a Walnut-tree as large and as verdant as the original appears by magic on the precise spot where it stood.——A Walnut-tree with very different associations once grew in the churchyard on the north side of St. Joseph’s Chapel at Glastonbury. This miraculous tree never budded before the feast of St. Barnabas (June 11th), and on that very day shot forth leaves and flourished like others of its species. Queen Anne, King James and many high personages are said to have given large sums of money for cuttings from the original tree, which has long since disappeared, and has been succeeded by a fine Walnut of the ordinary sort.——According to an old custom (which at one time prevailed in England), every household in the district of Lechrain, in Bavaria, brings to the sacred fire which is lighted at Easter a Walnut-branch, which, after being partially burned, is carried home to be laid on the hearth-fire during tempests, as a protection against lightning.——In Flanders, as a charm against ague, the patient catches a large black spider, and imprisons it between the two halves of a Walnut-shell, and then wears it round his neck.——In our own land, it is a common belief among country people that whipping a Walnut-tree tends to increase the crop and improve the flavour of the Nuts. This belief is found embodied in the following curious distich:—

“A woman, a spaniel, and a Walnut-tree, The more you whip them, the better they be.”

Evelyn, alluding to this custom, says it is thought better to beat the Nuts off than to gather them from the tree by hand. “In Italy,” he tells us, “they arm the tops of long poles with nails and iron for the purpose, and believe the beating improves the tree, which I no more believe than I do that discipline would reform a shrew.”——The Brahmans of the Himalaya observe a festival called the Walnut Festival, Akrot-ka-pooja, at which, after offering a sacrifice, the priest, with a few companions, takes his place in the balcony of the temple, and all the young men present pelt them liberally with Walnuts and green Pine-cones, which the group in the balcony rapidly collect and return in plentiful volleys.——To dream of Walnuts portends difficulties and misfortunes in life: in love affairs, such a vision implies infidelity and disappointment.

Water Lily.—See Nymphæa.

Waybread.—See Plantain.

WHORTLEBERRY.—Whort or Whortleberry (the Anglo-Saxon Heorutberge is another name for the Bilberry or Blaeberry, (Vaccinium Myrtillus). A species of Whortleberry, called Ohelo (Vaccinium reticulatum), is found in Hawaii, springing up from the decomposed lava of the volcanoes of that island. Its flame-coloured berries are sacred to Pélé, the goddess of the volcano, and in heathen days no Hawaiian dared taste one till he had offered some to the goddess, and craved her permission to eat them. Miss Gordon Cumming relates that when Mr. Ellis visited the island in 1822, he and his trusty friends rejoiced on discovering these large juicy berries, but the natives implored them not to touch them lest some dire calamity should follow. Though themselves faint and parched, they dared not touch one till they reached the edge of the crater, where, gathering branches loaded with the tempting clusters, they broke them in two, and throwing half over the precipice, they called Pélé’s attention to the offering, and to the fact that they craved her permission to eat of her Ohelos. (See also Bilberry.)

WIDOW’S FLOWER.—The Indian or Sweet Scabious (Scabiosa atropurpurea) is called by the Italians Fior della Vedova, and by the French Fleur de Veuve, or Widow’s Flower. Phillips says of these flowers that they present us with “corollas of so dark a purple, that they nearly match the sable hue of the widow’s weeds; these being contrasted with anthers of pure white gives the idea of its being an appropriate bouquet for those who mourn for their deceased husbands, and this we presume gave rise to the Italian and French name of Widow’s Flower.”

WILLOW.—The Willow seems from the remotest times to have been considered a funereal tree and an emblem of grief. So universal is the association of sadness and grief with the Willow, that “to wear the Willow” has become a familiar proverb. Under Willows the captive Children of Israel wept and mourned in Babylon. Fuller, referring to this melancholy episode in their history, says of the Willow:—“A sad tree, whereof such as have lost their love make their mourning garlands; and we know that exiles hung their harps on such doleful supports. The very leaves of the Willow are of a mournful hue.” Virgil remarks on

“The Willow with hoary bluish leaves;”

and Shakspeare, when describing the scene of poor Ophelia’s death, says:—

“There is a Willow grows ascant the brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the grassy stream.”

Chatterton has a song of which the burden runs:—

“Mie love ys dedde, Gone to his death-bedde Al under the Wyllowe-tree.”

Spenser designates the gruesome tree as “the Willow worn of forlorn paramours;” and there are several songs in which despairing lovers invoke the Willow-tree.

“Ah, Willow, Willow! The Willow shall be A garland for me, Ah, Willow! Willow.”

Herrick tells us how garlands of Willow were worn by neglected or bereaved lovers, and how love-sick youths and maids came to weep out the night beneath the Willow’s cold shade. The following wail of a heart-broken lover is also from the pen of the old poet:—

“A Willow garland thou did’st send Perfumed, last day, to me, Which did but only this portend— I was forsook by thee. Since it is so, I’ll tell thee what: To-morrow thou shalt see Me wear the Willow; after that, To die upon the tree. As hearts unto the altars go, With garlands dressed, so I, With my Willow-wreath, also Come forth and sweetly die.”

Jason, in his voyage in search of the golden fleece, passed the weird grove of Circe, planted with funereal Willows, on the tops of which the voyagers could perceive corpses hanging. Pausanias speaks of a grove consecrated to Proserpine, planted with Black Poplars and Willows; and the same author represents Orpheus, whilst in the infernal regions, as carrying a Willow-branch in his hand. Shakspeare, in allusion to Dido’s being forsaken by Æneas, says:—

“In such a night, Stood Dido, with a Willow in her hand, Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love To come again to Carthage.”

The Willow was considered to be the tree of Saturn. The Weeping Willow (Salix Babylonica), as being a remedy for fluxes, was, however, consecrated to Juno Fluonia, who was invoked by Roman matrons to stop excessive hemorrhage.——The Flemish peasantry have a curious custom to charm away the ague. The sufferer goes early in the morning to an old Willow, makes three knots in one of its branches, and says “Good morning Old One; I give thee the cold, Old One.”——The Willow wand has long been a favourite instrument of divination. The directions are as follows:—Let a maiden take a Willow-branch in her left hand, and, without being observed, slip out of the house and run three times round it, whispering all the time, “He that’s to be my gude man come and grip the end of it.” During the third run, the likeness of her future husband will appear and grasp the other end of the wand.——De Gubernatis says that at Brie (Ile-de-France), on St. John’s Eve, the people burn a figure made of Willow-boughs. At Luchon, on the same anniversary, they throw snakes on a huge effigy of a Willow-tree made with branches of Willow; this is set on fire, and while it is burning the people dance around the tree.——In China, the Willow is employed in their funeral rites, the tree having been there considered, from the remotest ages, to be a symbol of immortality and eternity. On this account they cover the coffin with branches of Willow, and plant Willows near the tombs of the departed. They also have a custom of decorating the doors of their houses with Willow-branches on Midsummer Day. With them the Willow is supposed to be possessed of marvellous properties, amongst which is the power of averting the ill effects of miasma and pestilential disorders.——To dream of mourning beneath a Willow over some calamity is considered a happy omen, implying the speedy receipt of intelligence that will cause much satisfaction.——By astrologers the Willow is placed under the dominion of the moon.

Wind Flower.—See Anemone.

Witch-Hazel.—See Hornbeam. Witch- or Wych-Elm, Ulmus montana.

Wolf’s Bane.—See Monk’s Hood.

Woodbine.—See Honeysuckle.

WORMWOOD.—The old Latin name of Wormwood was Absinthium, and a variety known as A. Ponticum is alluded to by Ovid as being particularly bitter:—

“Untilled barren ground the loathsome Wormwood yields, And well ’tis known how, through its root, bitter become the fields.”

Johnston, in his Thaumatographia naturalis, notes a curious superstition, according to which we are assured that an infant will not during its life be either hot or cold provided that its hands are rubbed over with the juice of Wormwood before the twelfth week of its life has expired. The ancients mingled Wormwood in their luscious wines, or used it before or after drinking them in order to counteract their effects. Sprays of Wormwood are often seen suspended in cottages to drive away moths and other insects.

“Where chamber is sweeped, and Wormwood is throwne, No flea for his life dare abide to be knowne.”

Its powerful odour is so disliked by all kinds of insects that country people often place Wormwood in their drawers to protect their clothes, &c., from moths: hence its French name, Garde-robe. Gerarde says that, mixed with vinegar, it is a good antidote to the poison of Mushrooms or Toadstools, and taken with wine counteracts the poisonous effects of Hemlock and the bites of the shrew mouse and sea dragon.——Branches of Sea Wormwood (Absinthium marinum) were, according to Pliny, carried in processions by Egyptian priests dedicated to the service of the goddess Isis. A species called Sementina was formerly called Holy Wormwood, and its seed Holy Wormseed (semen sanctum)—for what reason is not known.——Dreams connected with Wormwood are considered of good augury, implying happiness and domestic enjoyment. Astrologers adjudge Wormwood to be a herb of Mars.

YARROW.—The Yarrow, or Milfoil (Achillea Millefolium), is a plant which delights to find a home for itself in churchyards. Probably on account of this peculiarity it has been selected to play an important part in several rustic incantations and charms. In the South and West of England, damsels resort to the following mode of love-divination:—The girl must first pluck some Yarrow from a young man’s grave, repeating the while these words:—

“Yarrow, sweet Yarrow, the first that I have found, In the name of Jesus Christ I pluck it from the ground; As Jesus loved sweet Mary, and took her for His dear, So in a dream this night, I hope my true love will appear.”

She must then sleep with the Yarrow under her pillow, and in her dreams her future husband will appear.——Another formula states: The Yarrow must be plucked exactly on the first hour of morn: place three sprigs in your shoe or glove, saying:—

“Good morning, good morning, good Yarrow, And thrice good morning to thee; Tell me, before this time to-morrow, Who my true love is to be.”

Observe, a young man must pluck the Yarrow off a young maiden’s grave, and a female must select that off a bachelor’s. Retire home to bed without speaking another word, or it dissolves the spell; put the Yarrow under your pillow, and it will procure a sure dream on which you may depend.——In another spell to procure for a maiden a dream of the future, she is to make a posey of various coloured flowers, one of a sort, some Yarrow off a grave, and a sprig of Rue, and bind all together with a little hair from her head. She is then to sprinkle the nosegay with a few drops of the oil of amber, using her left hand, and bind the flowers round her head when she retires to rest in a bed supplied with clean linen. This spell it is stated will ensure the maid’s future fate to appear in a dream.——The Yarrow acquired the name of Nosebleed from its having been put into the nose to cause bleeding, and to cure the megrim, as we learn from Gerarde. Dr. Prior adds, that it was also called Nosebleed from its being used as a means of testing a lover’s fidelity, and he quotes from Forby, who, in his ‘East Anglia,’ says that, in that part of England, a girl will tickle the inside of the nostril with a leaf of this plant, crying:—

“Yarroway, Yarroway, bear a white blow; If my love love me, my nose will bleed now.”

By a blunder of the mediæval herbalists, the name and remedial character of the Horse-tail, which was formerly called Herba sanguinaria and Nosebleed, were transferred without reason to the Yarrow, which has since retained them.——The Yarrow is also known as Old Man’s Pepper, and was formerly called the Souldier’s Woundwort. The Highlanders make an ointment from it; and it was similarly employed by the ancient Greeks, who said that Achilles first made use of this plant as a wound herb, having learnt its virtues of Chiron, the Centaur—hence its scientific name Achillea.——Astrologers place the herb under the dominion of Venus.——To dream of gathering Yarrow for medicinal purposes denotes that the dreamer will shortly hear of something that will give him or her extreme pleasure.

YEW.—The dark and sombre Yew-tree has from the remote past been invested with an essentially funereal character, and hence is appropriately found in the shade of churchyards and in propinquity to tombs. Blair, addressing himself to the grave, says:—

“Well do I know thee by thy trusty Yew, Cheerless, unsocial plant, that loves to dwell ’Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs, and worms; Where light-heeled ghosts, and visionary shades, Beneath the wan cold moon (so fame reports), Embody’d, thick, perform their mystic rounds. No other merriment, dull tree, is thine.”

The Egyptians regarded it as a symbol of mourning, and the idea descended to the Greeks and Romans, who employed the wood as fuel for their funeral pyres. The Britons probably learned from the Romans to attach a funereal signification to the Yew, and inasmuch as it had been employed in ancient funeral rites, they regarded the tree with reverence and probably looked upon it as sacred. Hence, in course of time, the Yew came to be planted in churchyards, and, on account of its perpetual verdure, was, like the Cypress, considered as a symbol of the resurrection and immortality.

“Dark Cypresses the skirting sides adorned, And gloomy Yew-trees, which for ever mourned.”—Harte.

R. Turner remarks that if the Yew “be set in a place subject to poysonous vapours, the very branches will draw and imbibe them: hence it is conceived that the judicious in former times planted it in churchyards on the west side, because those places being fuller of putrefaction and gross oleaginous vapours exhaled out of the graves by the setting sun, and sometimes drawn into those meteors called ignes fatui, divers have been frightened, supposing some dead bodies to walk; others have been blasted, &c.” Prof. Martyn points out that a Yew was evidently planted near the church for some religious purpose; for in the ancient laws of Wales the value of a consecrated Yew is set down as £1, whilst that of an ordinary Yew-tree is stated as only fifteen pence. “Our forefathers,” says he, “were particularly careful to preserve this funereal tree, whose branches it was usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of their departed friends. Our learned Ray says, that our ancestors planted the Yew in churchyards because it was an evergreen tree, as a symbol of that immortality which they hoped and expected for the persons there deposited. For the same reason this and other evergreen trees are even yet carried in funerals, and thrown into the grave with the body; in some parts of England and in Wales, planted with flowers upon the grave itself.” Shakspeare speaks of a “shroud of white, stuck all with Yew,” from which one would infer that sprigs of Yew were placed on corpses before burial. Branches of Yew were, in olden times, often carried in procession on Palm Sunday, instead of Palm, and as an evergreen Yew was sometimes used to decorate churches and houses at Christmas-time.——Parkinson remarks that in his time it was used “to deck up houses in Winter; but ancient writers have ever reckoned it to be dangerous at the least, if not deadly.” Many of the old writers were of Parkinson’s opinion as to the poisonous character of the Yew. Cæsar tells how Cativulcus, king of the Eburones, poisoned himself by drinking a draught of Yew. Dioscorides says that a decoction of the leaves occasions death; Galen pronounces the tree to be of a venomous quality and against man’s nature; and White, in his ‘History of Selborne,’ gives numerous instances in which the Yew has proved fatal to animals. Gerarde does not consider the berries poisonous, but thinks non-ruminating animals are injured by eating the foliage. He tells us that “Nicander, in his booke of counter-poisons, doth reckon the Yew-tree among the venomous plants, setting downe also a remedy, and that in these words, as Gorræus hath translated them:—

‘Shun the poys’nous Yew, the which on Oeata grows, Like to the Firre, it causes bitter death, Unlesse besides they use pure wine that flowes From empty’d cups, thou drinke, when as thy breath Begins to fade, and passage of thy life Grows straight.’”

Virgil attributed the notoriously unwholesome qualities of the honey of Corsica to the bees feeding upon the Yew, and he warns bee-keepers to be careful that no Yew-trees grow near their hives. Owing to its being so frequently found in churchyards, a ghastly superstition has arisen respecting this sinister tree: it is said that it preys and invigorates itself upon the dead who lie beneath its sombre shade. Thus, in ‘In Memoriam,’ we read:—

“Old Yew, which graspest at the stones That name the underlying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.”

Even in the principal use the Yew was put to, the tree maintained its connection with death, for from its wood man fashioned an instrument of warfare and destruction. Its great pliancy and toughness made it particularly suitable for bows, and for this purpose it was unrivalled. Virgil tells us that in his time “the Yews were bent into Ituræan bows”; Chaucer speaks of “the Shooter Yew;” and Browne writes of

“The warlike Yewgh by which more than the lance The strong-armed English spirits conquered France.”

Camden has recorded a grim legend in connection with the name of Halifax. It seems that a certain amorous clergyman fell in love with a pretty maid who refused his addresses. Maddened by her refusal he cut off her head, which being hung upon a Yew-tree till it was quite decayed, the tree was reputed as sacred, not only whilst the virgin’s head hung on it, but as long as the tree itself lasted: to which the people went in pilgrimage, plucking and bearing away branches of it as a holy relique, whilst there remained any of the trunk; persuading themselves that those small veins and filaments resembling hairs were the hairs of the virgin. But what is yet stranger, the resort to this place, then called Houton, a despicable village, occasioned the building of the now famous town of Halifax, in Yorkshire, the name of which imports “holy hair.”——In the cloister of Vreton, in Brittany, there grew a Yew-tree which was said to have sprung from the staff of St. Martin. Beneath it the Breton princes were accustomed to offer up a prayer before entering the church. This tree was regarded with the highest reverence; no one ever plucked a leaf from its sombre boughs, and even the birds refrained from pecking the scarlet berries. A band of pirates, however, happening to visit the locality, two of them spied the tree, and forthwith climbed into its venerable boughs and proceeded to cut bow-staves for themselves: their audacity speedily brought about its own punishment, for they both fell and were killed on the spot.——Both in old Celtic and in Anglo-Saxon the Yew-tree was called Iw. By early English authors its name was variously spelt Yew, Yeugh, Ewgh, Ugh, and Ewe. In Switzerland, it is known as William Tell’s Tree.——Dream oracles state that there is but one signification to dreams concerning the Yew, viz., that it is the certain forerunner of the demise of an aged person, through which the dreamer will derive substantial benefits.

YGGDRASILL.—The mythical Scandinavian World-tree, or Mundane Ash, is the greatest and best of all trees: beneath it the gods assemble in counsel; its branches spread over the whole world and reach above heaven; and its roots penetrate to the infernal regions. On its summit is perched an all-seeing eagle, with a hawk between his eyes. A squirrel continually carries news to him, while serpents coiled round the vast trunk endeavour to destroy him. Serpents, also, constantly gnaw the roots, from which come the fountains of wisdom and futurity. The Norns always keep a watch upon the Yggdrasill: they fix the lifetime of all men, and dispense destinies. Under the tree is hidden the horn which shall be sounded and rouse the world at the last great conflict.

Illustration from Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics Embracing the Myths, Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore of the Plant Kingdom
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