Part the Second.
Reading edition

ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PLANTS.
ACACIA.—In the deserts of Arabia the finest tree is the Acacia Seyal, which is reputed to be the Shittah tree of the Old Testament. The timber of this tree was termed Shittim, translated by some as “incorruptible wood.” In Exodus xxv. it is recorded that the Ark of the Lord was made of Shittim wood, overlaid within and without with pure gold, and having a crown of gold round about it; and in chapter xxvi. we read that the staves were made of the same wood, as were also the boards of the Tabernacle and the woodwork of the Altar on which the offerings were presented. From this same Acacia is obtained a fragrant and highly-prized gum which is employed as incense in religious ceremonials.——Tradition affirms that this Acacia—the Nabkha of the Arabians—was the tree from which was fabricated the Saviour’s crown of thorns. It has many small sharp spines, and the leaves resemble those of the Ivy with which the Roman Emperors were crowned, thus making the mockery bitterly complete.——The Buddhists make use of the wood of the Sami (Acacia Suma) to light the fire on their altars: this is done by striking it with the Asvattha, or Peepul—the act symbolising generation. This Acacia is one of the sacred trees of India, and yields an astringent or preservative substance.——The tree usually known in England by the name of Acacia is the Robinia pseudo-Acacia, or Locust-tree of America, named by Linnæus after the two Robins, herbalists to Henri IV., who introduced it into France in 1640. This tree would appear to have somewhat of a funeral character, since we find the American Freemasons make a practice of dropping twigs of it on the coffins of brethren. A sprig of Acacia is one of the emblems specially revered by Freemasons.——“It is curious,” says Mr. Reade, in ‘The Veil of Isis,’ “that Houzza, which Mahomet esteemed an idol—Houzza so honoured in the Arabian works of Ghatfan, Koreisch, Renanâh, and Salem—should be simply the Acacia. Thence was derived the word Huzza! in our language, which was probably at first a religious exclamation like the Evoke! of the Bacchantes.”——The English newspapers lately gave an account of a singular species of American Acacia, stated to be growing at Virginia, Nevada, and exhibiting all the characteristics of a sensitive plant. At the commencement of 1883 the Acacia was reported to be about eight feet high, and growing rapidly. When the sun sets, its leaves fold together and the ends of the twigs coil up like a pig-tail; and if the latter are handled, there is evident uneasiness throughout the plant. Its highest state of agitation was reached when the tree was removed from the pot in which it was matured into a larger one. To use the gardener’s expression, it went very mad. It had scarcely been planted in its new quarters before the leaves began to stand up in all directions, like the hair on the tail of an angry cat, and soon the whole plant was in a quiver. At the same time it gave out a most sickening and pungent odour, resembling that of a rattlesnake when teased. The smell so filled the house, that it was necessary to open all the doors and windows, and it was a full hour before the plant calmed down and folded its leaves in peace.
ACANTHUS.—The Acanthus was a favourite plant amongst both the Greeks and Romans, who employed it for decorative purposes: its leaves form the principal adornment of the Corinthian capital, which was invented by Callimachus. How the idea was suggested to the architect is told us by Vitruvius. A young Corinthian damsel fell ill and died. After her interment, her nurse gathered her trinkets and ornaments into a basket, and lest they should be injured by the weather, she covered the basket with a tile, and placed it near her young mistress’s tomb over the root of an Acanthus, the stalks and leaves of which burst forth in the Spring, and spreading themselves on the outside of the basket, were bent back again at the top by the corner of the tile. Callimachus happening to pass by, was charmed with the beauty and novelty of this accidental arrangement, and took from it the idea of the Corinthian chapter. Both Greeks and Romans made use of the Acanthus mollis in the form of garlands, with which they adorned their buildings, their furniture, and even their clothing. Theocritus speaks of a prize cup as having “a crust of soft Acanthus.” Virgil narrates that the plant formed the basis of a design embroidered on the mantle of Helen of Troy; and tells us that the handles of Alcimedon’s cup were enwreathed with what he elsewhere terms “Smiling Acanthus.”——Old English names for this plant were Brank-ursine and Bear’s-breech.——Acanthus is stated by astrologers to be under the dominion of the Moon.
ACHYRANTHES.—The Apamarga, an Indian variety of this plant, has given the name to the sacrificial rite called Apâmârga Homa, because at daybreak they offer a handful of flour made from the seeds of the Apamarga (Achyranthes aspera). According to a legend quoted by De Gubernatis, Indra had slain Vriitra and other demons, when he encountered the demon Namuchi and wrestled with him. Vanquished, he made peace with Namuchi on the understanding that he should never kill anything with a solid body, nor with a liquid body, neither by night nor by day. So Indra gathered a vegetable, which is neither solid nor liquid, and comes during the daybreak, when the night is past, but the day has not yet come. Then with the vegetable he attacked the monster Namuchi, who complained of this treachery. From the head of Namuchi sprang the plant Apâmârga. Indra afterwards destroyed all the monsters by means of this plant. As may be supposed after such a marvellous origin, the plant was soon looked upon as a powerful talisman. According to the Atharvaveda, it should be held in the hand, and invoked against the malady Kshetriya, and against witches, monsters, and nightmares. They call it the Victor, having in itself the strength of a thousand, destroying the effects of maledictions, and especially of those inimical to generation, which produce hunger, thirst, and poverty. It is also called the Lord of salutary plants, son of Vibhindant, having received all its power from Indra himself. The Hindus believe that the plant is a security against the bites of scorpions.
Aconite.—See Monkshood.
ACORUS.—This aromatic Reed, or Sweet Flag, is absurdly said to have been called Acorus, from the Greek koré, pupil, because it was esteemed good for diseases of the eye. The sacred oil of the Jews—the “oil of holy ointment”—used to anoint the tabernacle, the ark of the testimony, the altar of burnt offerings, the altar of incense, the candlesticks, and all the sacred vessels, has the oil of Acorus as one of its ingredients. It is the “Sweet Calamus” mentioned in Exodus xxx.——The Acorus is a plant of the Moon.
ADDER’S TONGUE.—The Adder’s Tongue, or to give it its old Latin name, Christ’s Spear (Ophioglossum vulgatum), was formerly much prized as a remedy for wounds. Gerarde declared that boiled in olive oil it produced “a most excellent greene oyle, or rather a balsam for greene wounds comparable to oyle of St. John’s wort, if it doth not far surpasse it.” A preparation called the “green oil of charity” is still in request; and Adder’s Spear ointment (a compound of Adder’s Tongue Fern, Plantain, and sundry herbs) is well known in country places as a vulnerary. In olden times an Adder’s Tongue was reputed to be a wondrous cure for tumours, if plucked at the falling of the Moon, and applied with the accompaniment of an incantation.——Witches highly esteemed Adder’s Tongue as a plant to be employed in their spells. Astrologers class it as a herb of the Moon.
Affadyl.—See Narcissus.
AGNUS CASTUS.—The “Chaste Tree” (Vitex Agnus Castus), a species of Willow, derives its name from the Greek hagnos, and Latin castus, both meaning chaste. The name was given to it, according to Pliny, from the custom of the Athenian matrons to strew their beds with it during the festival of the Thesmophora, held in honour of Ceres, when the strictest chastity was enjoined. At the same festival young girls adorned themselves with blossoms of the shrub and slept on its leaves in order to guard their innocence and purity.——Agnus Castus was consecrated to Æsculapius, and also, in the isle of Samos, to Juno. Prometheus was crowned with it. At Grecian weddings, the bride and groom carried crowns of it. It was also employed as a preservative against poisoning.——The seed of this shrub in later years acquired the name of Piper Monachorum, and in explanation it is said that, following the example of the matrons of Athens, who had discovered that the odour of branches of Agnus Castus combatted unchaste thoughts and desires, certain Christian monks made themselves girdles of the flexible boughs of the tree, by wearing which they professed to expel from their hearts all passions that love could excite.——Some of the old herbalists affirm that the seeds of Agnus Castus had a very powerful effect in arresting generation. Gerarde says “Agnus Castus is a singular medicine and remedy for such as would willingly live chaste, for it withstandeth all uncleanness or desire to the flesh, consuming and drying up the seed of generation, in what sort soever it bee taken, whether in pouder onely, or the decoction drunke, or whether the leaves be carried about the body; for which cause it was called castus, that is to say, chaste, cleane, and pure.” The leaves, burnt or strewn about, were reputed to drive away serpents; and, according to Dioscorides, a branch of the shrub, carried in the hand, would keep wayfarers from weariness.——Agnus Castus is held to be under the dominion of Mars in Capricorn.
Albespyne.—See Hawthorn.
AGRIMONY.—The Agrimony or Egrimony (Agrimonia Eupatoria) was a herb much in vogue among the old herbalists, who attributed extraordinary virtues to it. Dioscorides prescribes it as a cure for the bitings and stingings of serpents. Gerarde says it is “good for them that have naughty livers,” and in fact it was at one time known as Liver-wort. Culpeper tells us that it will draw forth “thorns and splinters of wood, nails, or any other such thing gotten into the flesh,” and recommends it further as “a most admirable remedy for such whose lives are annoyed either by heat or cold.” Sore throat, gout, ague, colic, ear-ache, cancers, and ulcers are among the numerous complaints the herbalists professed to cure by means of syrups and salves made of Agrimony, a plant which has formed an ingredient in most of the herb teas which have been from time to time introduced.——The astrological government and virtues of Agrimony appear to the uninitiated somewhat complicated. If we may believe Culpeper, it is a herb under Jupiter and the sign Cancer, and strengthens those parts under the planet and sign, and removes diseases in them by sympathy; and those under Saturn, Mars, and Mercury by antipathy, if they happen in any part of the body governed by Jupiter, or under the signs Cancer, Sagittarius, or Pisces.——Michael Drayton, in his ‘Muse’s Elysium,’ thus refers to Agrimony, among other herbs dear to simplers:—
“Next these here Egrimony is, That helps the serpent’s biting; The blessed Betony by this, Whose cures deserving writing. “This All-heal, and so named of right, New wounds so quickly healing; A thousand more I could recite Most worthy of revealing.”
ALDER.—The origin of the Alder is to be found in the following lines from Rapin’s poem on Gardens:—
“Of watery race Alders and Willows spread O’er silver brooks their melancholy shade, Which heretofore (thus tales have been believed) Were two poor men, who by their fishing lived; Till on a day when Pales’ feast was held, And all the town with pious mirth was filled, This impious pair alone her rites despised, Pursued their care, till she their crime chastised: While from the banks they gazed upon the flood, The angry goddess fixed them where they stood, Transformed to sets, and just examples made To such as slight devotion for their trade. At length, well watered by the bounteous stream, They gained a root, and spreading trees became; Yet pale their leaves, as conscious how they fell, Which croaking frogs with vile reproaches tell.”
In Germany, Alders have often a funereal and almost diabolic character. It is a popular belief that they commence to weep, to supplicate, and to shed drops of blood if there is any talk of cutting them down.——A legend of the Tyrol narrates how a boy who had climbed a tree, overlooked the ghastly doings of certain witches beneath its boughs. They tore in pieces the corpse of a woman, and threw the portions in the air. The boy caught one, and kept it by him. The witches, on counting the pieces afterwards found that one was missing, and so replaced it by a scrap of Alder-wood, when instantaneously the dead came to life again.——Of the wood of the Alder, Virgil tells us, the first boats were made:—Tunc Alnos primum fluvii sensere cavatas.——The Alder, or Aller, is said to be a tree of Venus, under the celestial signs of either Cancer or Pisces.
Alecost.—See Costmary.
Alehoof, Ground-Ivy.—See Ivy.
ALMOND.—According to an ancient tradition mentioned by Servius, the origin of the Almond-tree is to be traced to Phyllis, a beautiful Thracian queen, who became enamoured of Demophoon, the son of Theseus and Phædra, and was wedded to him. Demophoon, who, whilst returning from the Trojan war, had been cast by a storm on the coast of Thrace soon after his marriage with the Queen, was recalled to Athens by his father’s death. He promised faithfully to return to his royal bride at the expiration of a month, but failed to do so, and Phyllis, distracted at his continued absence, after several futile visits to the sea-shore, expired of grief, and was transformed into an Almond-tree, which is called Phylla by the Greeks. Some time after this metamorphosis the truant consort returned, and upon hearing of the untimely fate of Phyllis, he ran and clasped the tree in remorseful embrace. Loving even in death, his beautiful queen seems to have acknowledged his repentance, for the Almond-tree into which she had been transformed, although at that time stripped of its leaves, suddenly shot forth and blossomed, as if eager to show how unchangeable was poor Phyllis’s love.——A second account of the origin of the Almond-tree states that it sprang from the blood of the monster Agdistis, the offspring of Jupiter. This fable further narrates that the daughter of the river Sangarius fell in love with the beautiful tree, and after gathering its fruit, gave birth to a son named Atys.——A third account relates how Io, daughter of King Midas, was forsaken by Atys, whom she loved; and how Agdistis, on the death of Atys, mutilated his body, from which sprang the bitter Almond-tree, the emblem of grief.——Virgil made the flowering of the Almond a presage of the crop of Wheat.
“With many a bud if flowering Almonds bloom, And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume, So shall thy harvest like profusion yield, And cloudless suns mature the fertile field.”
The Hebrew word Shakad, from which the Almond derives its name, means to make haste, or to awake early, given to the tree on account of its hasty growth and early maturity. Aaron’s rod, which budded and brought forth fruit in the Tabernacle during one day, was of an Almond-tree: “It budded and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded Almonds.” (Numbers xvii., 8). Among the Hebrews, the Almond-tree was regarded as the symbol of haste and vigilance, because of the suddenness of its blossoming, which announced the Spring. The Mahommedans consider its flowers typical of hope, because they bloom on the bare branches.——Romanists assign the blossoming Almond-tree to the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven.——In Tuscany, and other countries, a branch of the Almond-tree is employed to discover hidden treasures. It is carried to the place where the treasure is supposed to be concealed, and, according to popular superstition, its point will turn towards the exact spot. In the nuptial ceremonies of the Czechs, Almonds are distributed amongst the wedding guests.——Pliny considered Almonds a most powerful remedy against inebriation, and Plutarch relates an anecdote of a notorious wine-bibber, who, by his habitual use of bitter Almonds, used to escape being intoxicated.——The Almond-tree is under Jupiter. To dream of eating Almonds portends a journey: if they taste sweet, it will be a prosperous one; if bitter, the contrary.
ALOE.—The Hebrews appear to have entertained a great respect for the Aloe (Ahaloth). In the Bible it is frequently referred to in commendatory terms, and its use as a perfume is of very great antiquity. King David, in the Psalms, says: “All thy garments smell of Myrrh, and Aloes, and Cassia.” Solomon, in the Canticles, mentions Aloes as one of the chief spices; and in Proverbs (vii., 17) refers to it as a scent. Aloes is one of the spices mentioned by St. John as having been brought by Nicodemus to embalm the body of our Lord.——There are two trees which yield this fragrant wood, viz., Aloexylum Agallochum, a native of the mountains of Hindostan, and Aquilaria Malaccensis, which grows in Malacca: the wood of these aromatic trees forms the principal ingredient in the scented sticks burned by the Hindus and Chinese in their temples. The heart of the Chinese Aloe, or Wood Aloes, is called Calambac, or Tambac-wood, which is reckoned in the Indies more precious than gold itself: it is used as a perfume; as a specific for persons affected with fainting fits or with the palsy; and as a setting for the most costly jewels. Both the name and the plant of the aromatic Aloe are of Indian origin, and it must not be confounded with the common Aloes, most of which have an offensive smell and a bitter taste.——In Wood’s Zoography we read: “The Mahommedans respect the Aloe as a plant of a superior nature. In Egypt, it may be said to bear some share in their religious ceremonies, since whoever returns from a pilgrimage to Mecca hangs it over his street door as a proof of his having performed that holy journey. The superstitious Egyptians believe that this plant hinders evil spirits and apparitions from entering the house, and on this account whoever walks the streets in Cairo will find it over the doors of both Christians and Jews.”——The Arabic name of the Aloe, Saber, signifies patience, and in Mecca at the end of most graves, facing the epitaph, is planted an Aloe, as an allusion to the patience required by those awaiting the arrival of the great day of resurrection. Most Eastern poets, however, speak of the Aloe as the symbol of bitterness; and the Romans seem to have been well acquainted with this qualification, judging from the allusion to it in Juvenal:—“Plus Aloes quam mellis habere.” “As bitter as Aloes” is a proverbial saying of considerable antiquity, derived doubtless from the acrid taste of the medicines obtained from the plant, and made principally from the pulp of the fleshy leaf of the Succotrine Aloe, the leaves of which have a remarkable efficacy in curing scalds and burns.——Not only, however, for its medicinal properties is the Aloe esteemed, for in some countries, particularly Mexico, the poor derive from it almost every necessary of life. The ancient manuscripts of Mexico are chiefly inscribed upon paper made from the fibres of the pité, or pith. Of the points of the leaves of the Aloe are made nails, darts, and awls, and with these last the Indians pierce holes in their ears when they propose to honour the Devil with some peculiar testimonies of their devotion.
ALYSSUM.—This plant was regarded by the Neapolitans as possessing magic qualities, and was suspended in their houses as a charm against the Evil Eye. Its name Alyssum is derived from the Greek a, not, and lussa, madness. In England, the plant was called Alisson and Madwort, because, as Gerarde says, it is “a present remedie for them that are bitten of a mad dog.”
AMARANTH.—In Spenser’s ‘Fairy Queen’ is to be found the following allusion to the mythological origin of the Amaranth:—
“And all about grew every sort of flower, To which sad lovers were transformed of yore; Fresh Hyacinthus, Phœbus’ paramour, Foolish Narciss, that likes the watery shore: Sad Amaranthus, made a flower but late, Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore Me seems I see Aminta’s wretched fate, To whom sweet poets’ verse hath given endless date.”
The Amaranth was a sacred plant among the Greeks and Romans: from the former it received its name, which means “never-fading,” on account of the lasting nature of its blossoms. Hence it is considered the emblem of immortality. The Amaranth was also classed among the funeral flowers. Homer describes the Thessalians as wearing crowns of Amaranth at the funeral of Achilles; and Thessalus decorated the tomb of the same hero with Amaranth-blossoms. Philostratus records the custom of adorning tombs with flowers, and Artemidorus tells us that the Greeks were accustomed to hang wreaths of Amaranth in most of the temples of their divinities: and they regarded the Amaranth as the symbol of friendship. Milton crowns with Amaranth the angelic host assembled before the Deity:—
“With solemn adorations down they cast Their crowns, inwove with Amaranth and gold— Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom, but soon for man’s offence To heaven removed, where first it grew.”
The same poet, as well as Spenser, classes the Amaranth amongst “those flowers that sad embroidery wear.”——In Sumatra, the people of the Batta country lead in times of peace a purely pastoral life, and are accustomed to play on a kind of flute crowned with garlands of Amaranth and other flowers.——At the Floral Games at Toulouse, a golden Amaranth was awarded for the best lyric composition.——In modern times, the Amaranth has given its name to an order instituted by Queen Christiana of Sweden, in the year 1633, at an entertainment given in honour of Don Antonio Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador. On this occasion she appeared in a dress covered with diamonds, attended by a suite nobles and ladies. At the conclusion of the ball she stripped her attire of the diamonds, and distributed them among the company, at the same time presenting the new order of knighthood, consisting of a ribbon and medal, with an Amaranth in enamel, encircled with the motto Dolce nella memoria.——In Roman Catholic countries, more especially in Portugal, the species of the flower known as the Globe Amaranth, Prince’s Feathers, and Cock’s Comb, are much cultivated for church decoration at Christmas time and during the Winter. The Amaranth is also selected as one of the flowers peculiarly appropriate to Ascension Day.——The species of Amaranth which we know as Love-lies-bleeding, has, in France, the singular name of Discipline des religieuses, the Nun’s Scourge.——The Amaranth was formerly known as Flower Gentle, Flower Velure, Floramor, and Velvet Flower. It is said to be under Saturn, and to be an excellent qualifier of the unruly actions of Venus.
AMBROSIA.—The Ambrosia-tree, or tree bearing immortal food, is one of the most popular guises of the Hindu world-trees. The Paradise of Indra had five trees, under the refreshing shade of which the gods reclined and enjoyed life-inspiring draughts of Ambrosia or Amrita. The chief of these trees was the Pârijâta (usually identified with the Erythrina Indica), and this was deemed the Ambrosia-tree.——The Greeks knew a herb which they named Ambrosia, the food of immortals, and it was so called by the ancients because they believed that a continued use of it rendered men long-lived, just as the ambrosia of the gods preserved their immortality. The Moors to this day entertain a belief in the existence of such a plant. The old English name given to this herb was Ambrose, which was applied to the Chenopodium Botrys; but the ancients seem to have applied the name of Ambrosia to the Field Parsley, the Wild Sage, and the Chenopodium ambrosioides. The plant known as Ambrosia at the present day belongs to the Wormwood family.
AMELLUS.—This plant is believed to be a species of Starwort. Virgil, in the Fourth Book of his Georgics, states that at Rome it was employed to decorate the altars of the gods. Gerarde says that the Starwort having a blue or purple flower is that referred to by Virgil as the Amellus in the following lines:—
“In meads there is a flower Amello named, By him that seeks it easy to be found, For that it seems by many branches framed Into a little wood: like gold the ground Thereof appears; but leaves that it beset Shine in the colour of the Violet.”
AMORPHOPHALLUS.—The gigantic Aroid, Amorphophallus campanulatus, or Carrion Plant of Java, is regarded with repugnance as a plant of ill-omen. Previous to the sudden bursting, about sunset, of the spathe containing the spadix, there is an accumulation of heat therein. When it opens, it exhales an offensive odour that is quite overpowering, and so much resembles that of carrion, that flies cover the club of the spadix with their eggs.
ANDHAS.—The luminous plant of the Vedic Soma. The plant is also called in general Arjunî, that is to say, Shining. From Andhas it is supposed the Greek word anthos was derived.
ANDROMEDA.—This shrub owes its classical appellation to Linnæus, who gave it the name of Andromeda after the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiope. Ovid, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ has sung how, lashed to a rock, she was exposed to a sea monster, sent by Neptune to ravage her father’s country, and how she was at last rescued by Perseus, and became his bride. Linnæus thus explains why he gave the Marsh Cistus the name of the classical princess:—“As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda, as described by the poets—a virgin of most exquisite beauty and unrivalled charms. The plant is always fixed in some turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the sea, which bathed her feet as the fresh water does the root of the plant. As the distressed virgin cast down her blushing face through excessive affliction, so does the rosy-coloured flower hang its head, growing paler and paler till it withers away. At length comes Perseus, in the shape of Summer, dries up the surrounding waters, and destroys the monster.” The leaves of this family of plants have noxious properties, and the very honey is said to be poisonous.
ANEMONE.—The origin of the Anemone, according to Ovid, is to be found in the death of Adonis, the favourite of Venus. Desperately wounded by a boar to which he had given chase, the ill-fated youth lay expiring on the blood-stained grass, when he was found by Venus, who, overcome with grief, determined that her fallen lover should hereafter live as a flower.
“Then on the blood sweet nectar she bestows; The scented blood in little bubbles rose; Little as rainy drops, which flutt’ring fly, Borne by the winds, along a lowering sky. Short time ensued till where the blood was shed A flower began to rear its purple head. Such as on Punic Apples is revealed, Or in the filmy rind but half concealed, Still here the fate of lovely forms we see, So sudden fades the sweet Anemone. The feeble stems to stormy blasts a prey, Their sickly beauties droop and pine away. The winds forbid the flowers to flourish long, Which owe to winds their names in Grecian song.”—Congreve.
The Greek poet, Bion, in his epitaph on Adonis, makes the Anemone the offspring of the tears of the sorrowing Venus.
“Alas the Paphian! fair Adonis slain! Tears plenteous as his blood she pours amain, But gentle flowers are born and bloom around From every drop that falls upon the ground. Where streams his blood, there blushing springs the Rose, And where a tear has dropped, a Wind-flower blows.”
Rapin, in his poem, gives a somewhat similar version of the origin of the Anemone. He says:—
“For while what’s mortal from his blood she freed, And showers of tears on the pale body shed, Lovely Anemones in order rose, And veiled with purple palls the cause of all her woes.”
In Wiffen’s translation of the Spanish poet Garcilaso, we find the red colour only of the Anemone attributed to the blood of Adonis:—
“His sunbeam-tinted tresses drooped unbound, Sweeping the earth with negligence uncouth; The white Anemones that near him blew Felt his red blood, and red for ever grew.”
Rapin recounts another story, according to which the Anemone was originally a nymph beloved by Zephyr. This is, perhaps, an explanation of the name of the flower, which is derived from Anemos, the wind.
“Flora, with envy stung, as tales relate, Condemned a virgin to this change of fate; From Grecian nymphs her beauty bore the prize, Beauty the worst of crimes in jealous eyes; For as with careless steps she trod the plain, Courting the winds to fill her flowing train, Suspicious Flora feared she soon would prove Her rival in her husband Zephyr’s love. So the fair victim fell, whose beauty’s light Had been more lasting, had it been less bright: She, though transformed, as charming as before, The fairest maid is now the fairest flower.”
The English name of Wind-flower seems to have been given to the Anemone because some of the species flourish in open places exposed to the wind, before the blasts of which they shiver and tremble in the early Spring. Pliny asserts that the flower never blooms except when the winds blow.——With the Egyptians, the Anemone was the emblem of sickness. According to Pliny, the magicians and wise men in olden times were wont to attribute extraordinary powers to the plant, and ordained that everyone should gather the first Anemone he or she saw in the year, the while repeating, with due solemnity—“I gather thee for a remedy against disease.” The flower was then reverently wrapped in scarlet cloth, and kept undisturbed, unless the gatherer became indisposed, when it was tied either around the neck or arm of the patient. This superstition extended to England, as is shown by the following lines in a ballad:—
“The first Spring-blown Anemone she in his doublet wove, To keep him safe from pestilence wherever he should rove.”
The Anemone was held sacred to Venus, and the flower was highly esteemed by the Romans, who formed it into wreaths for the head.——In some countries, people have a strong prejudice against the flowers of the field Anemone: they believe the air to be so tainted by them, that those who inhale it often incur severe illness. Shakspeare has given to the Anemone the magical power of producing love. In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ (Act 2), Oberon bids Puck place an Anemone-flower on the eyes of Titania, who, on her awakening, will then fall in love with the first object she sees.——A once famed Parisian florist, named Bachelier, having procured some rare Anemones from the East, would not part with a root, either for love or money. For ten years he contrived to keep the treasures to himself, until a wily senator paid him a visit, and, walking round the garden, observed that the cherished Anemones were in seed. Letting his robe fall upon the plants as if by accident, he so swept off a number of the little feathery seeds, which his servant, following close upon his heels, brushed off his master’s robe and secretly appropriated; and before long the niggardly florist had the mortification of seeing his highly-prized “strain” in the possession of his neighbours and rivals.——The Anemone is held to be under the dominion of Mars.
ANGELICA.—The strong and widely-diffused belief in the manifold virtues of this plant is sufficient to account for its angelic name, although Fuchsius was of opinion that it was called Angelica either from the sweet scent of its root, or its value as a remedy against poisons and the plague. Its old German name of Root of the Holy Ghost is still retained in some northern countries. The Laplanders believe that the use of it strengthens life, and they therefore chew it as they would do Tobacco; they also employ it to crown their poets, who fancy themselves inspired by its odour.——Parkinson says that “it is so goode an herbe that there is no part thereof but is of much use.”——Du Bartas wrote—
“Contagious aire ingendering pestilence Infects not those that in their mouths have ta’en Angelica, that happy counterbane Sent down from heav’n by some celestial scout, As well the name and nature both avowt.” Sylvester’s trans., 1641.
Angelica was popularly believed to remove the effects of intoxication; according to Fuchsius, its roots, worn suspended round the neck, would guard the wearer against the baneful power of witches and enchantments; and Gerarde tells us that a piece of the root held in the mouth, or chewed, will drive away pestilential air, and that the plant, besides being a singular remedy against poisons, the plague, and pestilent diseases in general, cures the biting of mad dogs and all other venomous beasts. Regarding its astrological government, Culpeper observes that it is a “herb of the Sun in Leo. Let it be gathered when he is there, the moon applying to his good aspect; let it be gathered either in his hour, or in the hour of Jupiter; let Sol be angular.”
ANTHYLLIS.—The English names of this plant are Kidney Vetch, Lamb Toe, Lady’s Fingers, Silver Bush, and Jupiter’s Beard (from the thick woolly down which covers the calyxes of a species growing in the South of Europe). It was formerly employed as a vulnerary, and was recommended by Gesner as useful in staunching the effusion of blood: hence its old English names of Staunch and Wound-Wort. Clare says of it:—
“The yellow Lambtoe I have often got Sweet creeping o’er the banks in sunny time.”
ANTIRRHINUM.—Columella alludes to this flower as “the stern and furious lion’s gaping mouth.” Its English names are Snap Dragon, Lion’s Snap, Toad’s Mouth, Dog’s Mouth, and Calf’s Snout.——In many rural districts the Snap Dragon is believed to possess supernatural powers, and to be able to destroy charms. It was formerly supposed that when suspended about the person, this plant was a protection from witchcraft, and that it caused a maiden so wearing it to appear “gracious in the sight of people.”
APPLE.—Whether the Apple, the Orange, the Pomegranate, the Fig, the Banana, or the Grape was the actual fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, which tempted Eve in Paradise, will possibly never be settled; but it is certain that not only is the Apple mystical above all the fruits of the earth, but it is the supreme fruit. To it has been given the Latin name Pomona, which is the generic name of fruit, just as Pomona is the goddess of all the fruit trees.
The Scandinavian goddess Iduna is in a measure identified with the Tree of Immortality, which was an Apple-tree. Iduna religiously guarded in a box the Apples which the gods, when they felt old age approaching, had only to taste the juice of to become young again. The evil genius, Loki, having been instrumental in the abduction of Iduna and her renovating Apples, the gods became old and infirm, and were unable properly to govern the world; they, therefore, threatened Loki with condign punishment unless he succeeded in bringing back Iduna and her mystic Apples: this he fortunately succeeded in doing.
The golden Apples which Juno presented to Jupiter on the day of their nuptials were placed under the watchful care of a fearful dragon, in the garden of the Hesperides; and the obtaining of some of these Apples was one of the twelve labours of Hercules. By stooping to pick up three of these golden Apples presented by Venus to Hippomenes, Atalanta lost her race, but gained him as a husband. The fatal Apple—inscribed DETUR PULCHRIORI—thrown by the malevolent Discordia into the assembly of the gods, and which Paris adjudged to Venus, caused the ruin of Troy and infinite misfortune to the Greeks.
The Apple was sacred to Venus, who is often represented with the fruit in her hand. The Thebans worshipped Hercules, under the name of Melius, and offered Apples at his altar, the custom having, according to tradition, originated as follows:—The river Asopus being once so swollen as to prevent some youths from bringing across it a sheep destined to be sacrificed to Hercules, one of them recollected that the Apple was called by the same name—Mêlon. In this emergency, therefore, it was determined to offer an Apple, with four little sticks stuck in it to resemble legs, as a substitute for a sheep; and it being deemed that the sacrifice was acceptable, the Apple was thenceforth devoted to Hercules. The god Apollo was sometimes represented with an Apple in his hand.
The Celtic “Isle of the Blest,” the “fair Avalon,” is the “Island of Apples,”
“Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns, And bowery hollows crowned with Summer sea.”
It has been attempted to localise the Island of Apples either at Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, or at Aiguilon, in Brittany. A Gaelic legend which asserts the claims of an island in Loch Awe to be identified as the Isle of the Blest, changes the mystic Apples into the fruit of the Pyrus cordata, a species of wild Pear, indigenous both to the Scotch island and to Aiguilon.
The Druids highly reverenced the Apple-tree, partly on account of its fruit, but chiefly because they believed that the Mistletoe thrived on it and on the Oak only. In consequence of its reputed sanctity, therefore, the Apple was largely cultivated by the early Britons, and Glastonbury was known as the “Apple Orchard,” from the quantity of fruit grown there previous to the Roman invasion. The Druids were wont to cut their divining-rods from the Apple-tree.
The Saxons highly prized the Apple, and in many towns established a separate market for the fruit. The following sentence from their Coronation Benediction shows with what importance it was regarded:—“May the Almighty bless thee with the blessing of heaven above, and the mountains and the valleys, with the blessings of the deep below, with the blessing of Grapes and Apples. Bless, O Lord, the courage of this Prince, and prosper the work of his hands; and by Thy blessing may this land be filled with Apples, with the fruit and dew of heaven, from the top of the ancient mountains, from the Apples of the eternal hills, from the fruits of the earth and its fulness.”
The old Saxon chronicles relate that before the battle of Senlac, King Harold pitched his camp beside the “hoar Apple-tree”—evidently a well-known object, that had doubtless preserved its quondam sacred character. Saint Serf, when on his way to Fife, threw his staff across the sea, from Inch Keith to Culross, and this staff, we are told, straightway took root and became the Apple-tree called Morglas.
Many ancient rites and ceremonies connected with this mystic tree are still practised in certain parts of the country, whilst others have of late become obsolete. In remote districts, the farmers and peasantry in Herefordshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall still preserve the ancient customs of saluting the Apple-trees on Christmas Eve. In some places, the parishioners walk in procession visiting the principal orchards in the parish. In each orchard one tree is selected as the representative of the rest; this is saluted with a certain form of words, which have in them the air of an incantation, and then the tree is either sprinkled with cider, or a bowl of cider is dashed against it, to ensure its bearing plentifully the ensuing year. In other places, the farmer and his servants only assemble on the occasion, and after immersing cakes in cider, they hang them on the Apple-trees. They then sprinkle the trees with cider, and encircling the largest, they chant the following toast three times:—
“Here’s to thee, old Apple-tree, Whence thou may’st bud, and whence thou may’st blow; And whence thou may’st bear Apples enow. Hats full! caps full! Bushel, bushel, sacks full! And my pockets full, too! Huzza! Huzza!”
After this the men dance round the tree, and retire to the farm-house to conclude, with copious draughts of cider, these solemn rites, which are undoubtedly relics of paganism.
In Sussex, the custom of “worsling” or wassailing Apple-trees still exists. Formerly it took place, according to the locality, some time between Christmas Eve and Twelfth Day. The most popular wassail rhyme was similar to the above, but others were sung by the “howlers.” At Chailey this verse is used:—
“Stand fast root, bear well top, Pray that God send us a good howling crop. Every twig, Apples big. Every bough, Apples enow. Hats full, caps full, Full quarters, sacks full.”
In West Sussex, during Christmas, the farmers’ labourers assemble for the purpose of wassailing the Apple-trees. A trumpeter sounds blasts on a bullock’s horn, and the party proceed to the orchard, where they encircle a tree or group of trees, and chant sonorously—
“Stand fast at root, bear well top, Every twig, bear Apple big, Every bough, bear Apple enow.”
A loud shout completes the ceremony, which is repeated till all the trees in the orchard have been encircled; after which the men proceed to the homestead, and sing at the owner’s door a song common for the occasion. They are then admitted, and partake of his hospitality.
At West Wickham, in Kent, a curious custom used to prevail in Rogation week. The young men went into the orchards, and, encircling each tree, said:—
“Stand fast, root, bear well, top, God send us a youling sop; Every twig, Apple big; Every bough, Apple enow.”
Cider was formerly not the only drink concocted from the Apple; another famous potation was called “Lambswool,” or more correctly, lamasool, the derivation of the word being the Celtic lámaesabhal—the day of Apple fruit. This appellation was given to the first day of November, dedicated in olden times to the titular saint of fruit and seeds. The Lambswool was composed of ale and roasted Apples, flavoured with sugar and spice; and a bowl of this beverage was drunk, with some ceremony, on the last night of October. Roasted Apples formed an important item in the composition of the famed wassail-bowl. Shakspeare probably alludes to this beverage in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ where we find the mischievous Puck saying,
“Sometimes I lurk in a gossip’s bowl, In very likeness of a roasted Crab.”
In Sussex, the wassail-bowl was formerly made at Christmas time; it was compounded of ale, sugar, Nutmeg, and roasted Apples, the latter being called Lambswool. On St. Clement’s day, in East Sussex, the custom exists of going round from house to house asking for Apples and beer: this is called Clemmening. A similar custom prevails on St. Catherine’s Day, when the children sing a rhyme commencing—
“Cattern’ and Clemen’ be here, here, here, Give us your Apples and give us your beer.”
In Lowland Scotland, there is an old charm still practised by village maidens on Hallow-e’en. It is to go alone into a room, and eat an Apple in front of a looking-glass, when the face of the future husband will appear looking over the maid’s shoulder.
In Scotland, on Hallow-e’en, Apples are thrown into a tub of water, and you endeavour to catch one in your mouth as they bob around in provoking fashion. When you have caught one, you peel it carefully, and pass the long strip of peel thrice sunwise round your head, after which you throw it over your shoulder, and it falls to the ground in the shape of the initial letter of your true love’s name.
In some places, on this mystic night, a stick is suspended horizontally from the ceiling, with a candle at one end and an Apple at the other. While it is made to revolve rapidly, the revellers successively leap up, and endeavour to grasp the Apple with their teeth (the hands must not be used); if they fail, the candle generally swings round in time to salute them disagreeably. Another amusement is to dive for Apples in a tub of water.
In Sussex, on this eve, every person present fastens an Apple on a string, and hangs and twirls it before the fire. The owner of the Apple that first falls off is declared to be upon the point of marriage; and as they fall successively, the order in which the rest of the party will attain to matrimonial honours is clearly indicated, single blessedness being the lot of the one whose Apple is the last to drop.
The custom of throwing the peel of an Apple over the head, marriage or celibacy being foretold by its remaining whole or breaking, is well known, as is also that of finding in a peel so cast the initial of the coming sweetheart.
Mr. Dyer, in his ‘English Folk-lore,’ details a form of divination by means of an Apple-pip. “In Lancashire,” he says, “in order to ascertain the abode of a lover, the anxious inquirer moves round in a circle, at the same time squeezing an Apple-pippin between his finger and thumb. This, on being subjected to pressure, flies from the rind, in the supposed direction of the lover’s residence. Meanwhile, the following rhyme is repeated:—
‘Pippin, pippin, paradise, Tell me where my true love lies; East, west, north, and south, Pilling brig or Cocker mouth.’”
It was formerly customary for Apples to be blessed by priests on July 25th; and in the manual of the Church of Sarum is preserved an especial form for this purpose. In Derbyshire, there is a saying that if the sun shines through the trees on Christmas Day, it ensures a good crop. In Northamptonshire, if the Apple-tree should bloom after the fruit is ripe, it is regarded as a sure omen of death. In the Apple-growing districts, there is an old saying that if it rains on St. Swithin’s Day, it is the Saint christening the Apples.
De Gubernatis, in his Mythologie des Plantes, gives several curious customs connected with the Apple, which are still extant in foreign countries. In Serbia, when a maiden accepts from her lover an Apple, she is engaged. In Hungary, a betrothed maiden, after having received from her lover the “engaged” ring, presents him with an Apple, the special symbol of all nuptial gifts. Young Greek girls never cease to invoke, upon marriage, the golden Apple. In Sicily, when a young man is in love, he presents the object of his affections with a love Apple. At Mount San Giuliano, in Sicily, on St. John’s Day, every young girl throws from the window of her room an Apple into the street, and watches to see who picks it up: should a woman do so, it is a sign that the maiden will not be married during the year; if the Apple is only looked at and not touched, it signifies that the maiden, after her marriage, will soon become a widow: if the first person passing is a priest, the young girl will die a virgin. In Montenegro, the mother-in-law presents an Apple to the young bride, who must try and throw it on the roof of her husband’s house: if the Apple falls on the roof, the marriage will be blest, that is to say there will be children. At Taranto, in Southern Italy, at the wedding breakfast, when the Apples are introduced, each guest takes one, and having pierced it with a knife, places a piece of silver money in the incision: then all the Apples are offered to the young bride, who bites each, and takes out the money.
In a Roumanian legend, the infant Jesus, in the arms of the blessed Virgin, becomes restless, will not go to sleep, and begins to cry. The Virgin, to calm the Holy Child, gives Him two Apples. The infant throws one upwards, and it becomes the Moon; He then throws the second, and it becomes the Sun. After this exploit, the Virgin Mary addresses Him and foretells that He will become the Lord of Heaven.
In old pictures of St. Dorothea, the virgin martyr is represented with a basket containing Apples and Roses: this is in allusion to the legend of her death, which tells that as Dorothea was being led forth to martyrdom, Theophilus, a lawyer, mockingly bade her send him fruits and flowers from Paradise. Dorothea, inclining her head, said, “Thy request, O Theophilus, is granted!” Whereat he laughed aloud with his companions, but she went on cheerfully to death. Arrived at the place of execution, she knelt down and prayed; and suddenly there appeared at her side a beautiful boy, with hair bright as sunbeams. In his hand he held a basket containing three Apples and three fresh-gathered and fragrant Roses. She said to him, “Carry these to Theophilus, and say that Dorothea hath sent them, and that I go before him to the garden whence they came, and await him there.” With these words she bent her neck, and received the death-stroke. Meantime, the angelic boy sought Theophilus, and placed before him the basket of celestial fruit and flowers, saying, “Dorothea sends thee these,” and vanished. Struck by the marvellous incident, Theophilus tasted of the heavenly fruit, and commenced a new life, following in Dorothea’s footsteps, and eventually obtaining the crown of martyrdom.
Mr. Dyer quotes the following from ‘Notes and Queries’:—“In South-east Devon and the neighbourhood, a curious legend is, we learn, current among the farmers respecting St. Dunstan and the Apple-trees. It is said that he bought up a quantity of Barley, and therewith made beer. The Devil, knowing that the Saint would naturally desire to get a good sale for his beer, which he had just brewed, went to him and said, that if he would sell himself to him, then he (the Devil) would go and blight the Apple-trees, so that there should be no cider, and, consequently there would be a far greater demand for beer. St. Dunstan, naturally wishing to drive a brisk trade in his beer, accepted the offer at once; but stipulated that the trees should be blighted in three days, which days fell on the 17th, 18th, and 19th of May. In the almanacs, the 19th is marked as St. Dunstan’s Day, and, as about this time the Apple-trees are in blossom, many anxious allusions are generally made to St. Dunstan; and should, as is sometimes the case, a sharp frost nip the Apple-blossoms, they believe they know who has been at the bottom of the mischief. There seems to be several versions of this legendary superstition. According to some, on a certain night in June, three powerful witches pass through the air, and if they drop certain charms on the blossoming orchards, the crops will be blighted. In other parts of the country, this is known as ‘Frankum’s Night,’ and the story is, that long ago, on this night, one Frankum made ‘a sacrifice’ in his orchard, with the object of getting a specially fine crop. His spells were answered by a blight; and the night is thus regarded as most critical.”
In a Polish legend, derived doubtless from the myth of the Hesperides, the hawk takes the place of the dragon. A young princess, through magic, is shut up in a golden castle situated on a mountain of ice: before the castle she finds an Apple-tree bearing golden Apples. No one is able to come to this castle. Whenever a cavalier ascends the side of the ice mountain in order to release the princess, the hawk darts down and blinds his horse, and both horse and rider are precipitated down the abyss. At length the appointed hero arrives, slays the hawk, gathers the golden Apples, and delivers the princess.
According to a Hanoverian legend, a young girl descends to the infernal regions by means of a staircase, which she discovers under an Apple-tree growing at the back of the house. She sees a garden, where the sun seems to shine more brightly than on earth; the trees are blossoming or are loaded with fruit. The damsel fills her apron with Apples, which become golden when she returns to earth.
In the popular tales of all countries, the Apple is represented as the magical fruit par excellence. The Celtic priests held the Apple sacred, and in Gaelic, Norse, German, and Italian stories it is constantly introduced as a mysterious and enchanted fruit. Mr. Campbell, in the introduction to his Tales of the West Highlands, points out that when the hero wishes to pass from Islay to Ireland, he pulls out sixteen Apples and throws them into the sea one after another, and he steps from one to the other. When the giant’s daughter runs away with the king’s son, she cuts an Apple into a mystical number of small bits, and each bit talks. When she kills the giant, she puts an Apple under the hoof of the magic filly, and he dies, for his life is the Apple, and it is crushed. When the byre is cleansed, it is so clean, that a golden Apple would run from end to end and never raise a stain. There is a Gruagach who has a golden Apple, which is thrown at all comers, who, if they fail to catch it, die. When it is caught and thrown back by the hero, Gruagach an Ubhail, dies. There is a certain game called cluich an ubhail—the Apple play—which seems to have been a deadly game. When the king’s daughter transports the soldier to the green island on the magic table-cloth, he finds magic Apples which transform him, and others which cure him, and by which he transforms the cruel princess, and recovers his magic treasures. When the two eldest idle king’s sons go out to herd the giant’s cattle, they find an Apple-tree whose fruit moves up and down as they vainly strive to pluck it; in fact, in all Gaelic stories, the Apple when introduced has something marvellous about it.
So, in the German, in the ‘Man of Iron,’ a princess throws a golden Apple as a prize, which the hero catches three times, and carries off, and wins. In ‘Snow White,’ where the poisoned comb occurs, there is a poisoned magic Apple also. In the ‘Old Griffin,’ the rich princess is cured by rosy-cheeked Apples. In the ‘White Snake,’ a servant who understands the voice of birds, helps creatures in distress, gets them aid, and procures golden Apples from three ravens which fly over the sea to the end of the world, where stands the tree of life. When he had got the Apple, he and the princess eat it and marry. Again, in the ‘Wonderful Hares,’ a golden Apple is the gift for which the finder is to gain a princess; and that Apple grew on a tree, the sole one of its kind.
In Norse it is the same: the princess on the glass mountain held three golden Apples in her lap, and he who could ride up the hill and carry off the Apples was to win the prize; and the princess rolled them down to the hero, and they rolled into his shoe. The good girl plucked the Apples from the tree which spoke to her when she went down the well to the underground world; but the ill-tempered step-sister thrashed down the fruit; and when the time of trial came, the Apple-tree played its part and protected the poor girl.
In a French tale, a singing Apple is one of the marvels which Princess Belle Etoile and her brothers and her cousin bring from the end of the world. In an Italian story, a lady when she has lost her husband goes off to the Atlantic Ocean with three golden Apples; and the mermaid who has swallowed the husband shows first his head, then his body to the waist, and then to the knees, each time for a golden Apple. Then, finally, in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ there is a long story, called the Three Apples, which turns upon the theft of one, which was considered to have been of priceless value. The Apple-blossom is considered to be an emblem of preference. To dream of Apples betokens long life, success in trade, and a lover’s faithfulness.
APPLE OF SODOM.—The Solanum Sodomeum is a purple Egg-plant of which the fruit is naturally large and handsome. It is, however, subject to the attacks of an insect (a species of Cynips), which punctures the rind, and converts the interior of the fruit into a substance like ashes, while the outside remains fair and beautiful. It is found on the desolate shores of the Dead Sea, on the site of those cities of the plain the dreadful judgment on which is recorded in sacred history. Hence the fruit, called the Apple of Sodom, has acquired a sinister reputation, and is regarded as the symbol of sin. Its first appearance, it is said, is always attended with a bitter north-east wind, and therefore ships for the Black Sea take care to sail before the harbinger of bad weather comes forth. The fruit is reputed to be poisonous. Josephus, the Jewish historian, speaks of them as having “a fair colour, as if they were fit to be eaten; but if you pluck them with your hand, they vanish into smoke and ashes.” Milton, describing an Apple which added new torments to the fallen angels, compares it to the Apples of Sodom:—
“Greedily they pluck’d The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed. This mere delusion, not the touch but taste Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit Chewed bitter ashes.”
Henry Teonge, who visited the country round the Dead Sea in 1675, describes it as being “all over full of stones which looke just like burnt syndurs, and on some low shrubbs there grow small round things which are called Apples, but no witt like them. They are somewhat fayre to looke at, but touch them and they smoulder all to black ashes, like soote both for looks and smell.”—The name Apple of Sodom is also given to a kind of Gall-nut, which is found growing on various species of dwarf Oaks on the banks of the Jordan.—Dead Sea Apples is a term applied to the Bussorah Gall-nut, which is formed on the Oak Quercus infectoria by an insect, and being of a bright ruddy purple, but filled with a gritty powder, they are suggestive of the deceptive Apple of Sodom.
“Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye, But turn to ashes on the lips.”
Apple of Paradise, or Adam’s Apple.—See Banana.
Apple, Love.—See Solanum.
Apple, Mad.—See Solanum.
APRICOT.—According to Columella, the Persians sent the Peach to Egypt to poison the inhabitants; and a species of Apricot is called by the people of Barbary, Matza Franca, or the “Killer of Christians.” The Persians call the Apricot of Iran, the “Seed of the Sun.” The ancients appear to have regarded it as a prophetical or oracular tree.——It was in the solitude of a grove of Apricot-trees that Confucius, the venerated Chinese sage, completed his commentaries on the King or ancient books of China, and beneath this shade he erected an altar, and solemnly thanked Heaven for having permitted him to accomplish his cherished task.——The name has undergone curious transformations: it is traceable to the Latin præcoqua, early; the fruit being supposed by the Romans to be an early Peach. The Arabs (although living near the region of which the tree is a native) took the Latin name, and twisted it into al burquq; the Spaniards altered its Moorish name into albaricoque; the Italians reproduced it as albicoces; the French from them got abricot; and we, in England, although taking the name from the French, first called it Abricock, or Aprecock, and finally Apricot.——The Apricot is under the dominion of Venus. To dream of this fruit denotes health, a speedy marriage, and every success in life.
ARBOR VITÆ.—This tree, otherwise known as Thuja, is called by Pliny, Thya (from thyon, a sacrifice). The resin of the Eastern variety is, in certain localities, frequently used instead of incense at sacrifices. How the tree acquired the name of Arbor Vitæ is not known, unless from some supposed virtue of its berries. Gerarde, who had only seen the Canadian variety, says of it that, of all the trees from that country, the Arbor Vitæ, or Thya, was “the most principall, and best agreeing unto the nature of man, as an excellent cordial, and of a very pleasant smell.” He also tells us that it was sometimes called Cedrus Lycia, and that it is not to be confounded with the Tree of Life mentioned in Genesis.
ARBUTUS.—The Arbutus, or Strawberry-tree (Arbutus unedo), was held sacred by the Romans. It was one of the attributes of Cardea, a sister of Apollo, who was beloved by Janus, guardian of gates and avenues. With a rod of Arbutus—virga Janalis—Cardea drove away witches and protected little children when ill or bewitched. The Romans employed the Arbutus, with other symbolic trees and flowers, at the Palilia, a festival held in honour of the pastoral goddess Pales. It was a Roman custom to deposit branches of the Arbutus on coffins, and Virgil tells us that Arbutus rods and Oak twigs formed the bier of young Pallas, the son of Evander. Horace, in his Odes, has celebrated the shade afforded by the Arbutus. Ovid speaks of the tree as “the Arbutus heavy with its ruby fruit,” and tells us that, in the Golden Age, the fruit afforded food to man. This fruit is called unedo, and Pliny is stated to have given it that name became it was so bitter that he who ate one would eat no more.——The Oriental Arbutus, or Andrachne, bears fruit resembling a scarlet Strawberry in size and flavour. In Greece, it has the reputation of so affecting serpents who feed upon it, that they speedily cease to be venomous. The water distilled from the leaves and blossom of the Arbutus was accounted a very powerful agent against the plague and poisons.
ARCHANGEL.—The name of Archangel is applied to the Angelica archangelica; the Red Archangel, Stachys sylvatica; the White Archangel, Lamium album; and the Yellow Archangel, L. Galeobdolon. Nemnich says, the plant originally obtained its name from its having been revealed by an angel, in a dream. Parkinson considers it was so called on account of its heavenly virtues. Gerarde remarks of it, that “the flowers are baked with sugar, as Roses are, which is called Sugar Roset: as also the distilled water of them, which is used to make the heart merry, to make a good colour in the face, and to refresh the vitall spirits.”
ARECA.—The Areca Catechu is one of the sacred plants of India, producing the perfumed Areca Nuts, favourite masticatories of the Indian races. So highly is this nut esteemed by the natives, that they would rather forego meat and drink than their precious Areca Nuts, which they cut into narrow pieces, and roll up with a little lime in the leaves of the Pepper, and chew. The Areca Palm is known in Hindostan as Supyari, and in Japan as Jambi. The Hindus adorn their gods with these Nuts, and forbid respectable women to deck either their heads or bosoms with them. According to Indian tradition, Devadamani, subduer of the gods, once appeared at the court of King Vikramâditya, to play with him, clothed in a robe the colour of the sky, having in his hand and in his mouth an Areca Nut enveloped in a leaf of the Kalpa-tree. This probably explains the Indian custom of presenting an Areca Nut to guests, which is eaten with the leaf of the Betel. In China, a similar custom prevails, but the Nut given there is the Betel Nut.
ARISTOLOCHIA.—The old English name of this plant was Birth-wort, derived from its reputed remedial powers in parturition—probably first suggested by the shape of the corolla—whence also its Greek name, from aristos, best, and locheia, delivery. According to Pliny, if the expectant mother desired to have a son, she employed Aristolochia, with the flesh of an ox.——Certain of the species are renowned, in some European countries, for having a wonderful influence over fishes and serpents. A. Serpentaria is reputed to be so offensive to the serpent tribe, that they will not only shun the place where it grows, but will even flee from any traveller who carries a piece of the plant in his hand. The snake jugglers of Egypt are believed to stupefy these reptiles by means of a decoction distilled from the plant, and it is asserted that a few drops introduced into the mouth of a serpent will so intoxicate it as to render it insensible and harmless.——Apuleius recommends the use of Aristolochia against the Evil Eye.——The Birth-wort is under the dominion of Venus.
ARKA.—This is the Indian name of the Calotropis gigantea, also called Arkapatra and Arkaparna (the lightning-leaved), the leaves of which present the cuneiform symbols of lightning. Arka, says De Gubernatis, is also the name of the Sun, and this explains why the Brahmins employed the leaf of the Calotropis on the occasion of sacrificing to the Sun. In each part of the Arka it is stated that a portion of the human body can be distinguished. Notwithstanding its grand name, and its beautiful appearance, people have a dread of approaching it, lest it should strike them blind. The origin of this superstition is to be found in the word Arka, which means both the sun and the lightning.
ARTEMISIA.—The genus of plants known as Artemisia was so called after the goddess Artemis (who was regarded by the Romans as identical with Diana, or the Moon), by reason of some of its species being used in bringing on precocious puberty. On this account, also, it is one of the plants specially under the influence of the Moon.—(See Southernwood and Wormwood).
ARUNDHATI.—This is the Brahminical name of a climbing plant of good omen, and to which, according to De Gubernatis, the Atharvaveda attributes magical properties against diseases of the skin. It gives milk to sterile cows, it heals wounds, it delivers men from sickness, it protects those who drink its juices. It is the sister of the water and of the gods; the night is its mother; the mist, the horse of Yama, its father; Aryaman its grandfather. It descends from the mouth of the horse of Yama.
ARUM.—The Germans call the Arum Aronswurzel, and entertain the notion that where this flourishes, the spirits of the wood rejoice. The majestic Ethiopian species of the Arum (Calla Æthiopica) is commonly called the Horn-flower, from the shape of its large white calyx. In tropical climates, the plant is a deadly poison. The Arum of English hedgerows, a flower of a very much humbler character, is known by a variety of quaint names, viz., Aaron, Cuckoo-pint, Cuckoo-pintle, Wake Robin, Friar’s Cowl, Priest’s-pintle, Lords-and-Ladies, Cows-and-Calves, Ramp, Starchwort, and, in Worcestershire, Bloody Men’s Fingers (from the red berries that surround the spadix). These blood-red spots have caused the plant to received in Cheshire the name of Gethsemane, because it is said to have been growing at the foot of the Cross, and to have received some drops of our Saviour’s blood.
“Those deep inwrought marks, The villagers will tell thee, Are the flower’s portion from the atoning blood On Calvary shed. Beneath the Cross it grew.”
This flower, the Arum maculatum, is the English Passion-flower: its berries are highly poisonous, and every part of the plant is acrid; yet the root contains a farinaceous substance, which, when properly prepared, and its acrid juice expressed, is good for food, and is indeed sold under the name of Portland Sago.——Starch has been made from the root, and the French use it in compounding the cosmetic known as Cypress powder. A drachm weight of the spotted Wake Robin, either fresh or dry, was formerly considered as a sure remedy for poison and the plague. The juice of the herb swallowed, to the quantity of a spoonful, had the same effect. Beaten up with Ox-dung, the berries or roots were believed to ease the pains of gout.——Arum is under the dominion of Mars.
ASOKA.—The Saraca Indica, or Jonesia Asoka, is one of the sacred plants of India, which has from remotest ages been consecrated to their temple decoration, probably on account of the beauty of its orange-red blossoms and the delicacy of its perfume, which in the months of March and April is exhaled throughout the night. The tree is the symbol of love, and dedicated to Kâma, the Indian god of love. Like the Agnus Castus, it is reported to have a certain charm in preserving chastity: thus Sîtâ, the wife of Râma, when abducted by the monster Râvana, escapes from the caresses of the monster and finds refuge in a grove of Asokas. In the legend of Buddha, when Mâyâ is conscious of having conceived the Bodhisattva, under the guise of an elephant, she retires to a wood of Asoka trees, and then sends for her husband. The Hindus entertain the superstition that a single touch of the foot of a pretty woman is sufficient to cause the Asoka to flourish. The word asoka signifies that which is deprived of grief, and Asoka, or the tree without grief, is also one of the names of the Bodhidruma, the sacred tree of Buddha.
ASPEN.—A legend referring to the tremulous motion of this tree (Populus tremula—see Poplar) is to the following effect:—“At the awful hour of the Passion, when the Saviour of the world felt deserted in His agony, when earth, shaken with horror, rang the parting knell for Deity, and universal nature groaned: then, from the loftiest tree to the lowliest flower, all felt a sudden thrill, and trembling bowed their heads, all save the Aspen, which said: ‘Why should we weep and tremble? The trees and flowers are pure and never sinned!’ Ere it ceased to speak, an involuntary trembling seized its every leaf, and the word went forth that it should never rest, but tremble on until the Day of Judgment.” An old saying affirmed that the leaves of the Aspen were made from women’s tongues, which never ceased wagging; and allusion is made to this in the following rhyme by Hannay, 1622:—
“The quaking Aspen, light and thin, In the air quick passage gives; Resembling still The trembling ill Of tempers of womankind, Which never rest, But still are prest To wave with every wind.”
The Bretons have a legend that the Saviour’s cross was made of Aspen wood; and that the ceaseless trembling of the leaves of this tree marks the shuddering of sympathetic horror. The Germans preserve an ancient tradition that, during their flight into Egypt, the Holy Family came to a dense forest, in which, but for an angelic guide, they must have lost their way. As they entered this wilderness, all the trees bowed themselves down in reverence to the infant God; only the Aspen, in her exceeding pride and arrogance, refused to acknowledge Him, and stood upright. Then the Holy Child pronounced a curse against her, as He in after life cursed the barren Fig-tree; and at the sound of His words the Aspen began to tremble through all her leaves, and has not ceased to tremble to this day. Mr. Henderson, in his ‘Folk-lore of the Northern Counties,’ states that this tradition has been embodied in a little poem, which may be thus translated:—
“Once as our Saviour walked with men below, His path of mercy through a forest lay; And mark how all the drooping branches show, What homage best a silent tree may pay! “Only the Aspen stands erect and free, Scorning to join the voiceless worship pure; But see! He casts one look upon the tree, Struck to the heart she trembles evermore!”
The Kirghises, who have become almost Mussulmans, have nevertheless preserved a profound veneration for the sacred Aspen.——Astrologers hold that the Aspen is a lunar tree.
ASPHODEL.—The Asphodel is the flower which flourished in the Elysian Fields. Orpheus, in Pope’s ‘Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day,’ conjures the infernal deities—
“By the streams that ever flow; By the fragrant winds that blow O’er the Elysian flowers; By those happy souls who dwell In yellow meads of Asphodel, Or Amaranthine bowers.”
Homer tells us that, having crossed the Styx, the shades passed over a long prairie of Asphodel; and Lucian makes old Charon say:—“I know why Mercury keeps us waiting so long. Down here with us there is nothing to be had but Asphodel, and libations and oblations, and that in the midst of mist and darkness: but up in heaven it is all bright and clear, and plenty of ambrosia there, and nectar without stint.” The fine flowers of this plant of the infernal regions produced grains which were believed by the ancients to afford nourishment to the dead. Accordingly we find that the Greeks planted Asphodel and Mallows round graves. The edible roots of the Asphodel were also wont to be laid as offerings in the tombs of the departed, and, according to Hesiod, they served as food for the poor. The Asphodel was held sacred to Bacchus, probably because he visited the infernal regions, and rescued his mother Semele from the kingdom of the departed. Wreaths of the Asphodel were worn by Bacchus, Proserpine, Diana, and Semele. Asphodels were among the flowers forming the couch of Jupiter and Juno, and Milton has named them as put to the same use by Adam and Eve.
“Flowers were the couch, Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, And Hyacinth, earth’s freshest, softest lap.”
Dr. Prior says that the Asphodel root was, under the name of cibo regio (food for a king), highly esteemed in the middle ages, but, however improved by cultivation, it is likely to have been troublesome by its diuretic qualities, and has probably on that account gone out of fashion. Rapin, in his poem, refers to the Asphodel as forming an article of food—
“And rising Asphodel forsakes her bed, On whose sweet root our rustic fathers fed.”
ASTER.—The old English name of the Aster is Star-wort. Rapin says of this flower—
“The Attic star, so named in Grecian use, But called Amellus by the Mantuan Muse In meadows reigns near some cool streamlet’s side, Or marshy vales where winding currents glide. Wreaths of this gilded flower the shepherds twine, When grapes now ripe in clusters load the vine.”
The Aster is thus identified with the Amellus, of the Greek and Latin poets, and, according to Virgil, the altars of the gods were often adorned with wreaths of these flowers. In his Fourth Georgic the poet prescribes the root of the Italian Star-wort (Aster Amellus) for sickly bees. (See Amellus). The leaves of the Attic Star-wort (when burnt) had the reputation of driving away serpents. In Germany, the Star-wort is used by lovers as an oracle, to decide whether their love is returned or not. The person consulting it repeats the words—
“Er liebt mich von Herzen Mit Schmerzen, Ja—oder Nein.”
At the recurrence of the words ja and nein a leaf is pulled out, and the answer depends on which of these words is pronounced as the last of the leaves is plucked. Göthe introduces this rustic superstition in his tragedy of ‘Faust,’ where the luckless heroine consults the floral oracle as to the affection entertained for her by Faust. The French call the Italian Star-wort, or Amellus, l’Œil de Christ, and the China Aster la Reine Marguerite——The Aster is considered to be a herb of Venus.
ASH.—This tree (Fraxinus excelsior), called, on account of its elegance, the Venus of the forest, and from its utility, the husbandman’s tree, was regarded by the ancient Greeks, Romans, and Scandinavians as a sacred tree, and as one of good omen. In the Teutonic mythology, the Ash is the most venerated of trees, and the Scandinavian Edda, the sacred book of the Northmen, furnishes a detailed account of the mystic Ash Yggdrasill, or mundane tree, beneath whose shade was the chief or holiest seat of the gods, where they assembled every day in council. (See Yggdrasill.) According to the old Norse tradition, it was out of the wood of the Ash that man was first formed; and the Greeks entertained a similar belief, for we find Hesiod deriving his brazen race of men from it. The goddess Nemesis was sometimes represented with an Ashen wand. Cupid, before he learnt to use the more potent Cypress, employed Ash for the wood of his arrows. At the Nuptials of Peleus and Thetis, Chiron appeared with a branch of Ash, from which was made the lance of Peleus, which afterwards became the spear of Achilles. Rapin writes of this tree—
“But on fair levels and a gentle soil The noble Ash rewards the planter’s toil. Noble e’er since Achilles from her side Took the dire spear by which brave Hector died; Whose word resembling much the hero’s mind, Will sooner break than bend—a stubborn kind.”
There exists an old superstition, that a serpent will rather creep into the fire than over a twig of the Ash-tree, founded upon the statements of Pliny with respect to the magical powers of the Ash against serpents. It was said that serpents always avoided the shade of the Ash; so that if a fire and a serpent were placed within a circle of Ash-leaves, the serpent, to avoid the Ash, would even run into the midst of the fire. Cowley, enumerating various prodigies, says:—
“On the wild Ash’s tops, the bats and owls, With, all night, ominous and baleful fowls, Sate brooding, while the screeches of these droves Profaned and violated all the groves. * * * * * * * * But that which gave more wonder than the rest, Within an Ash a serpent built her nest, And laid her eggs; when once to come beneath The very shadow of an Ash was death.”
There exists a popular belief in Cornwall, that no kind of snake is ever found near the “Ashen-tree,” and that a branch of the Ash will prevent a snake from coming near a person. There is a legend that a child, who was in the habit of receiving its portion of bread and milk at the cottage door, was found to be in the habit of sharing its food with one of the poisonous adders. The reptile came regularly every morning, and the child, pleased with the beauty of his companion, encouraged the visits. So the babe and the adder thus became close friends. Eventually this became known to the mother (who, being a labourer in the fields, was compelled to leave her child all day), and she found it to be a matter of great difficulty to keep the snake from the child whenever it was left alone. She therefore adopted the precaution of binding an Ashen-twig about its body. The adder no longer came near the child; but, from that day forward, the poor little one pined away, and eventually died, as all around said, through grief at having lost the companion by whom it had been fascinated.
On the subject of the serpent’s antipathy to the Ash, we find Gerarde writing as follows:—“The leaves of this tree are of so great vertue against serpents, that they dare not so much as touch the morning and evening shadowes of the tree, but shun them afar off, as Pliny reports (lib. 16, c. 13). He also affirmeth that the serpent being penned in with boughes laid round about, will sooner run into the fire, if any be there, than come neare the boughes of the Ash; and that the Ash floureth before the serpents appeare, and doth not cast its leaves before they be gon againe. We write (saith he) upon experience, that if the serpent be set within a circle of fire and the branches, the serpent will sooner run into the fire than into the boughes. It is a wonderfull courtesie in nature, that the Ash should floure before the serpents appeare, and not cast his leaves before they be gon againe.” Other old writers affirm that the leaves, either taken inwardly, or applied outwardly, are singularly good against the biting of snakes or venomous beasts; and that the water distilled from them, and taken every morning fasting, is thought to abate corpulence. The ashes of the Ash and Juniper are stated to cure leprosy.
The pendent winged seeds, called spinners or keys, were believed to have the same effect as the leaves: in country places there is to this day an opinion current, that when these keys are abundant, a severe Winter will follow. A bunch of Ash-keys is still thought efficacious as a protection against witchcraft.
In marshy situations, the roots of the Ash will run a long way at a considerable depth, thus acting as sub-drains: hence the proverb, in some parts of the country, “May your foot-fall be by the root of the Ash.” In the Spring, when the Ash and Oak are coming into leaf, Kentish folk exclaim:—“Oak, smoke; Ash, squash.” If the Oak comes out first, they believe the Summer will prove hot; if the Ash, it will be wet.
“If the Oak’s before the Ash, You will only get a splash; If the Ash precedes the Oak, You will surely have a soak.”
Gilbert White tells us of a superstitious custom, still extant, which he thinks was derived from the Saxons, who practised it before their conversion to Christianity. Ash-trees, when young and flexible, were severed, and held open by wedges, while ruptured children, stripped naked, were pushed through the apertures, under a persuasion that they would be cured of their infirmity. The operation over, the tree was plastered up with loam, and carefully swathed. If the severed parts coalesced in due course, the babe was sure to be cured; but if not, the operation would probably be ineffectual. The same writer relates another extraordinary custom among rustics: they bore a deep hole in an Ash-tree, and imprison a live shrew mouse therein: the tree then becomes a Shrew-Ash, whose twigs or branches, gently applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the cramp, lameness, and pain supposed to attack the animal wherever a shrew mouse has crept over it.
Lightfoot says that, in the Highlands, at the birth of an infant, the nurse takes a green Ash stick, one end of which she puts into the fire; and, while it is burning, receives in a spoon the sap that oozes from the other, which she administers to the child as its first food: this custom is thought to be derived from the old Aryan practice of feeding young children with the honey-like juice of the Fraxinus Ornus. The sap of the Ash, tapped on certain days, is drunk in Germany as a remedy for the bites of serpents.
In Northumberland, there is a belief that if the first parings of an infant’s nails are buried under an Ash, the child will turn out a “top singer.” In Staffordshire, the common people believe that it is very dangerous to break a bough from the Ash. In Leicestershire, the Ash is employed as a charm for warts. In the month of April or May, the sufferer is taken to an Ash-tree: the operator (who is provided with a paper of new pins) takes a pin, and having first struck it through the bark, presses it through the wart until it produces pain; the pin is then taken out and stuck into the tree, where it is left. Each wart is similarly treated, a separate pin being used for each. The warts will disappear in a few weeks. It is a wide-spread custom to stroke with a twig from an Ash-tree, under the roots of which a horse-shoe has been buried, any animal which is supposed to have been bewitched.
An Ashen herding stick is preferred by Scotch boys to any other, because in throwing it at their cattle it is sure not to strike in a vital part, and so kill or injure the animal, a contingency which may occur, it seems, with other sticks. It is worthy of note that the lituus of the Roman Augur—a staff with a crook at one end—was formed of an Ash-tree bough, the crook being sometimes produced naturally, but more often by artificial means.
In many parts of England, the finding of an even Ash-leaf is considered to be an augury of good luck; hence the old saying, so dear to tender maids—
“If you find an even Ash or a four-leaved Clover, Rest assured you’ll see your true-love ere the day is over.”
In Cornwall, this charm is frequently made use of for invoking good luck:—
“Even Ash I thee do pluck, Hoping thus to meet good luck. If no good luck I get from thee, I shall wish thee on the tree.”
In Henderson’s ‘Northern Folk-lore,’ occur the following lines regarding the virtues of even Ash-leaves:—
“The even Ash-leaf in my left hand, The first man I meet shall be my husband. The even Ash-leaf in my glove, The first I meet shall be my love. The even Ash-leaf for my breast, The first man I meet’s whom I love best. The even Ash-leaf in my hand, The first I meet shall be my man.” “Even Ash, even Ash, I pluck thee, This night my true love for to see; Neither in his rick nor in his rear, But in the clothes he does every day wear.”
It is a tradition among the gipsies that the cross our Saviour was crucified upon was made of Ash.
In Devonshire, it is customary to burn an Ashen faggot at Christmastide, in commemoration of the fact that the Divine Infant at Bethlehem was first washed and dressed by a fire of Ash-wood.
The Yule-clog or -log which ancient custom prescribes to be burnt on Christmas Eve, used to be of Ash: thus we read in an old poem:—
“Thy welcome Eve, loved Christmas, now arrived, The parish bells their tuneful peals resound, And mirth and gladness every breast pervade. The ponderous Ashen-faggot, from the yard, The jolly farmer to his crowded hall Conveys with speed; where, on the rising flames (Already fed with store of massy brands), It blazes soon; nine bandages it bears, And, as they each disjoin (so custom wills), A mighty jug of sparkling cider’s brought With brandy mixt, to elevate the guests.”
Spenser speaks of the Ash as being “for nothing ill,” but the tree has always been regarded as a special attractor of lightning, and there is a very old couplet, which says:—
“Avoid an Ash, It courts the flash.”
Its character as an embodiment of fire is manifested in a remarkable Swedish legend given in Grimm’s ‘German Mythology.’ Some seafaring people, it is said, received an Ash-tree from a giant, with directions to set it upon the altar of a church he wished to destroy. Instead, however, of carrying out his instructions, they placed the Ash on the mound over a grave, which to their astonishment instantly burst into flames.
There is an old belief that to prevent pearls from being discoloured, it is sufficient to keep them shut up with a piece of Ash-root.
Astrologers appear to be divided in their opinions as to whether the Ash is under the dominion of the Sun or of Jupiter.
ASVATTHA.—The Indian Veda prescribes that for the purpose of kindling the sacred fire, the wood of an Asvattha (Ficus religiosa), growing upon a Sami (Mimosa Suma), should be employed. The idea of a marriage suggested by such a union of the two trees is also developed in the Vedas with much minuteness of detail. The process by which, in the Hindu temples, fire is obtained from wood resembles churning. It consists in drilling one piece of wood (the Asvattha, symbolising the male element) into another (the Sami, representing the female element). This is effected by pulling a string tied to it, with a jerk, with one hand, while the other is slackened, and so alternately until the wood takes fire. The fire is received on cotton or flax held in the hand of an assistant Brahman. This Indian fire-generator is known as the “chark.” (See also Sami and Peepul).
AURICULA.—The old Latin name of this plant was Auricula ursi, from the shape of the leaves resembling a bear’s ear. It is thought to be the Alisma of Dioscorides. Matthiolus and Pena call it Sanicula Alpina, from its potency in healing wounds. Old herbalists have also named it Paralytica on account of its being esteemed a remedy for the palsy. Gerarde calls it Bear’s-ear, or Mountain Cowslip, and tells us that the root was in great request among Alpine hunters, for the effect it produced in strengthening the head and preventing giddiness and swimming of the brain overtaking them on high elevations. The plant is reputed to be somewhat carnivorous, and cultivators place juicy pieces of meat about the roots, so that they may absorb the blood.——In Germany, the Auricula is considered emblematical of love of home.
AVAKA.—The Avaka or Sîpâla is an India aquatic plant, which plays an important part in their funeral ceremonies. It is placed in a cavity made, according to their custom, to the north-east of the sacred fire Ahavanîya, and it is believed that the soul of the deceased person passes into this cavity, and thence ascends with the smoke to heaven. The Avaka or Sîpâla forms the food of the Gandharvas, who preside over the India waters.
Avens.—See Herb Bennett.
AZALEA.—This handsome shrub is narcotic and poisonous in all its parts. Xenophon, in his narrative of the ‘Retreat of the Ten Thousand,’ in Asia, after the death of Cyrus, tells how his soldiers became temporarily stupefied and delirious, as if intoxicated, after partaking of the honey of Trebizond on the Black Sea. The baneful properties of this honey arose from the poisonous nature of the blossoms of the Azalea Pontica, from which the bees had collected it.
BACCHARIS.—This plant is the Inula Conyza, and was called Baccharis after the god Bacchus, to whom it was dedicated. Virgil speaks of Baccharis as being used for making garlands, and recommends it as a plant which is efficacious as a charm for repelling calumny—
“Bacchari frontem Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro.”
Its English name is the Ploughman’s Spikenard; and it was highly esteemed by the old herbalists on account of the sweet and aromatic qualities of its root, from which the ancients compounded an ointment which was also known as Baccharis.
Bachelor’s Buttons.—See Ranunculus.
BALBAGA.—The Indian Grass, Eleusine Indica, had, according to De Gubernatis, the Vedic name of Balbaja: and, as a sacred herb, was employed in Indian religious festivals for litter, in ceremonials connected with the worship of the sacred Cow.
BALDMONEY.—According to Gerarde, the Gentian was formerly called Baldmoyne and Baldmoney; but Dr. Prior considers that the name appertains to Meum athamanticum, and that it is a corruption of the Latin valde bona, very good. The Grete Herball, speaking of Sistra, he says, gives the following explanation:—“Sistra is Dyll, some call it Mew; but that is not so. Howbeit they be very like in properties and vertue, and be put eche for other; but Sistra is of more vertue then Mew, and the leaves be lyke an herbe called Valde Bona, and beareth smaller sprigges as Spiknarde. It groweth on hye hylles” (See Feldwode).
BALIS.—This herb was believed by the ancients to possess the property of restoring the dead to life. By its means Æsculapius himself was said to have been once resuscitated; and Pliny reports that, according to the Greek historian Xanthus, a little dog, killed by a serpent, was brought back to life by this wonderful herb Balis.
BALSAM.—The seed vessel of this plant contains five cells. When maturity approaches, each of these divisions curls up at the slightest touch, and darts out its seeds by a spontaneous movement: hence its generic name Impatiens, and its English appellation Noli me tangere—Touch me not. Gerarde calls it the Balsam Apple, or Apple of Jerusalem, and tells us that its old Latin name was Pomum Mirabile, or Marvellous Apple. He also states that the plant was highly esteemed for its property of alleviating the pains of maternity, and that it was considered a valuable agent to remove sterility—the patient first bathing and then anointing herself with an oil compounded with the fruit.——The Turks represent ardent love by this flower.——Balsam is under the planetary influence of Jupiter.
BALM.—The Melissa, or Garden Balm, was renowned among the Arabian physicians, by whom it was recommended for hypochondria and affections of the heart, and according to Paracelsus the primum ens Melissa promised a complete renovation of man. Drunk in wine, it was believed to be efficacious against the bitings of venomous beasts and mad dogs. A variety called Smith’s or Carpenter’s Balm, or Bawm, was noted as a vulnerary, and Pliny describes it of such magical virtue, that Gerarde remarks, “though it be but tied to his sword that hath given the wound, it stancheth the blood.” On account of its being a favourite plant of the bees, it was one of the herbs directed by the ancients to be placed in the hive, to render it agreeable to the swarm: hence it was called Apiastrum.——The astrologers claimed the herb both for Jupiter and the Sun.——In connection with the Garden Balm, Aubrey relates a legend of the Wandering Jew, the scene of which he places in the Staffordshire moors. When on the weary way to Golgotha, Jesus Christ, fainting and sinking beneath the burden of the cross, asked the Jew Ahasuerus for a cup of water to cool his parched throat, he spurned the supplication, and bade him speed on faster. “I go,” said the Saviour, “but thou shalt thirst and tarry till I come.” And ever since that hour, by day and night, through the long centuries, he has been doomed to wander about the earth, ever craving for water, and ever expecting the Day of Judgment, which alone shall end his frightful pilgrimage. One Whitsun evening, overcome with thirst, he knocked at the door of a Staffordshire cottager, and craved of him a cup of small beer. The cottager, who was wasted with a lingering consumption, asked him in and gave him the desired refreshment. After finishing the beer, Ahasuerus asked his host the nature of the disease he was suffering from, and being told that the doctors had given him up, said, “Friend, I will tell thee what thou shalt do; and by the help and power of Almighty God above, thou shalt be well. To-morrow, when thou risest up, go into thy garden, and gather there three Balm-leaves, and put them into a cup of thy small beer. Drink as often as you need, and when the cup is empty, fill it again, and put in fresh Balm-leaves every fourth day, and thou shalt see, through our Lord’s great goodness and mercy, that before twelve days shall be past, thy disease shall be cured and thy body altered.” So saying, and declining to eat, he departed and was never seen again. But the cottager gathered his Balm-leaves, followed the prescription of the Wandering Jew, and before twelve days were passed was a new man.