Chapter XVI: Funeral Trees and Plants (1)

The association of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records, and through one of these (the Sanscrit _Mahâbhârata_) we learn that Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed under the tree _Salmalî_, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree is _Kantakadruma_, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise (_Ficus Indica_), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who, according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants--probably to typify life from the dead.

The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality, and that they conduce to the meditation of the living, and the removal of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude to some such custom in the following lines:--

“The gods forbid my bones in the high road
Should lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;
Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,
My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”

The ancients were wont to hang their criminals either to barren trees, or to those dedicated to the infernal gods; and we find that in Maundevile’s time the practice of hanging corpses on trees existed in the Indies, or, at any rate, on an island which he describes as being called Caffolos. He gives a sketch of a tree, probably a Palm, with a man suspended from it, and remarks that “Men of that Contree, whan here Frendes ben seke, thei hangen hem upon Trees; and seyn, that it is bettre that briddes, that ben Angeles of God, eten hem, than the foul Wormes of the Erthe.”

We have, in a previous chapter, seen that among the Bengalese there still exists the practice of hanging sickly infants in baskets upon trees, and leaving them there to die. Certain of the wild tribes of India--the Puharris, for example--when burying their infants, place them in earthen pots, and strew leaves over them: these pots they deposit at the foot of trees, sometimes covering them over with brushwood. Similar burial is given to those who die of measles or small-pox: the corpse is placed at the foot of a tree, and left in the underwood or heather, covered with leaves and branches. In about a year the parents repair to the grave-tree, and there, beneath its boughs, take part in a funeral feast.

Grotius states that the Greeks and Romans believed that spirits and ghosts of men delighted to wander and appear in the sombre depths of groves devoted to the sepulture of the departed, and on this account Plato gave permission for trees to be planted over graves--as Evelyn states, “to obumbrate and refresh them.” Since then the custom of planting trees in places devoted to the burial of the dead has become universal, and the trees thus selected have in consequence come to be regarded as funereal.

As a general rule, the trees to which this funereal signification has been attached are those of a pendent or weeping character, and those which are distinguished by their dark and sombre foliage, black berries and fruits, and melancholy-looking blossoms. Others again have been planted in God’s acre on account of the symbolical meaning attached to their form or nature. Thus, whilst the Aloe, the Yew, and the Cypress are suggestive of life, from their perpetual verdure, they typify in floral symbology respectively grief, sorrow, and mourning. The Bay is an emblem of the resurrection, inasmuch as, according to Sir Thomas Browne, when to all outward appearance it is dead and withered, it will unexpectedly revive from the root, and its dry leaves resume their pristine vitality. Evergreen trees and shrubs, whose growth is like a pyramid or spire, the apex of which points heavenward, are deemed emblematic of eternity, and as such are fitly classed among funereal trees: the Arbor Vitæ and the Cypress are examples. The weeping Birch and Willow and the Australian Casuarina, with their foliage mournfully bending to the earth, fitly find their place in churchyards as personifications of woe.

The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons from the Romans. From long habits of association, the Yew acquired a sacred character, and therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade. Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving this funereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his sixth Thebaid, calls it the _solitary Yew_. Leyden thus apostrophises this funeral tree:--

“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,
Whose still green leaves in silence wave
Above the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,
Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.
To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;
They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,
Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;
No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:
Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spread
Thy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”

The Mountain Ash is to be found in most Welsh churchyards, where it has been planted, not as a funeral tree, but as a defence against evil spirits. In Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its way to the churchyard under one of these trees of good omen.

William Cullen Bryant, the American poet, has left us a graceful description of an English churchyard:--

“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our sires
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades
Or blossoms; and, indulgent to the strong
And natural dread of man’s last home--the grave!
Its frost and silence, they disposed around,
Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and hues
Of vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,
Green even amid the snows of Winter, told
Of immortality; and gracefully
The Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;
And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;
And there the ancient Ivy.”

The Walnut-tree, of which it is said that the shadow brings death, is in some countries considered a funeral tree. In India they call the Tamarisk, _Yamadutika_ (Messenger of Yama, the Indian god of death), and the _Bombax Heptaphyllum, Yamadruma_, the tree of Yama.

The Elm and the Oak, although not strictly funeral trees, are connected with the grave by reason of their wood being used in the construction of coffins, at the present day, just as Cypress and Cedar wood used to be employed by the ancients.

“And well the abounding Elm may grow
In field and hedge so rife;
In forest, copse, and wooded park,
And ’mid the city’s strife;
For every hour that passes by
Shall end a human life.”--_Hood._

Brambles are used to bind down graves. Ivy, as an evergreen and a symbol of friendship, is planted to run over the last resting-place of those we love.

In Persia, it is the Basil-tuft that waves its fragrant blossoms over tombs and graves. In Tripoli, Roses, Myrtle, Orange, and Jasmine are planted round tombs; and a large bouquet of flowers is usually fastened at the head of the coffins of females. Upon the death of a Moorish lady of quality every place is filled with fresh flowers and burning perfumes, and at the head of the body is placed a large bouquet. The mausoleum of the royal family is filled with immense wreaths of fresh flowers, and generally tombs are dressed with festoons of choice blossoms. The Chinese plant Roses, a species of Lycoris, and the Anemone on their graves. The Indians attribute a funereal character to the fragrant flowers of the sacred Champak (_Michelia Champaca_).

The ancients planted the Asphodel around the tombs of the deceased, in the belief that the seeds of this plant, and those of the Mallow, afforded nourishment to the dead.

The Greeks employed the Rose to decorate the tombs of the dead, and the floral decorations were frequently renewed, under the belief that this bush was potent to protect the remains of the departed one. Anacreon alludes to this practice in one of his odes:--

“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,
Its juice the drooping heart relieves;
And after death its odours shed
A pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”

The Romans, also, were so partial to the Rose, that we find, by old inscriptions at Ravenna and Milan, that codicils in the wills of the deceased directed that their tombs should be planted with the queen of flowers--a practice said to have been introduced by them into England. Camden speaks of the churchyards in his time as thickly planted with Rose-trees; Aubrey notices a custom at Ockley, in Surrey, of planting Roses on the graves of lovers; and Evelyn, who lived at Wotton Place, not far distant, mentions the same practice. In Wales, White Roses mark the graves of the young and of unmarried females; whilst Red Roses are placed over anyone distinguished for benevolence of character.

All nations at different periods seem to have delighted to deck the graves of their departed relatives with garlands of flowers--emblems at once of beauty and quick fading into death.

“With fairest flowers
While summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; nor
The azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,
Out-sweetened not thy breath.”

_Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.)._

The flowers strewed over graves by the Greeks were the Amaranth, Myrtle, and Polyanthus. The practice was reprobated by the primitive Christians; but in Prudentius’s time they had adopted it, and it is expressly mentioned both by St. Ambrose and St. Jerome. The flowers so used were deemed typical of the dead: to the young were assigned the blossoms of Spring and Summer: to middle-age, aromatic herbs and branches of primeval trees.

Amaranthus was employed by the Thessalians to decorate the grave of Achilles; and Electra is represented as uttering the complaint that the tomb of her father Agamemnon had not been adorned with Myrtle:--

“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,
Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”

Virgil, when recounting the sorrow of Anchises at the loss of Marcellus, causes him to exclaim:--

“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,
Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.
Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”

In Germany, and in the German Cantons of Switzerland, the custom of decking graves is very common. The _Dianthus_ is a favourite flower for this purpose in Upper Germany. In the beautiful little churchyard at Schwytz, almost every grave is entirely covered with Pinks.

The cemetery of Père la Chaise, near Paris, exhibits proofs of the extent to which the custom of decking graves is preserved even by a metropolitan population and among persons of some rank. Numerous shops in the neighbourhood of this cemetery are filled with garlands of _Immortelles_ or Everlasting Flowers, which are purchased on _fête_ days and anniversaries, and placed on the graves. The branches of Box, or _Bois béni_, which are used in the place of Palms and Palm-leaves, are frequently stuck over graves in France.

“Fair flowers in sweet succession should arise
Through the long, blooming year, above the grave;
Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,
And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,
To cherish piety’s dear offerings. There
Rich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,--
Mysterious, solemn music, waked by winds
To hymn the closing year! And when the touch
Of sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,
That bloomed around the tomb--O! there should be
The polished and enduring Laurel--there
The green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,
All hues and forms, delicious, that adorn
The brumal reign, and often waken hopes
Refreshing. Let eternal verdure clothe
The silent fields where rest the honoured dead,
While mute affection comes, and lingers round
With slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,
All holy.”--_Carrington._

In Egypt, Basil is scattered over the tombs by the women, who repair to the sepulchres of the dead twice or thrice every week, to pray and weep over the departed. In Italy, the Periwinkle, called by the peasantry _fior di morto_, or Death’s flower, is used to deck their children who die in infancy. In Norway, branchlets of Juniper and Fir are used at funerals, and exhibited in houses in order to protect the inhabitants from the visitation of evil spirits. The Freemasons of America scatter sprays of Acacia (_Robinia_) on the coffins of brethren. In Switzerland, a funeral wreath for a young maiden is composed of Hawthorn, Myrtle, and Orange-blossom. In the South of France, chaplets of white Roses and Orange-blossom are placed in the coffins of the young.

The Greeks and Romans crowned the dead with flowers, and the mourners wore them at the funeral ceremonies. It should be mentioned that the Romans did not generally bury their dead before the time of the Antonines. The bodies of the dead were burnt, and the ashes placed in an urn.

The funeral pyre of the ancients consisted of Cypress, Yew, Fir, and other trees and shrubs. The friends of the deceased stood by during the cremation, throwing incense on the fire and libations of wine. The bones and ashes were afterwards collected, cleansed, mixed with precious ointments, and enclosed in funeral urns. Agamemnon is described by Homer in the ‘Odyssey,’ as informing Achilles how this ceremony had been performed upon him:--

“But when the flames your body had consumed,
With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,
And wash’d with unmixed wine.”

Virgil, in describing the self-sacrifice, by fire, of Dido, speaks thus of the necessary preparations:--

“The fatal pile they rear
Within the secret court, exposed in air.
The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;
And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.
Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,
And every baleful flower denoting death.”

The repast set apart by custom for the dead consisted of Lettuces and Beans. It was customary among the ancients to offer Poppies as a propitiation to the manes of the dead. The Romans celebrated festivals in honour of the spirits of the departed, called Lemuria, where Beans were cast into the fire on the altar. The people also threw black Beans on the graves of the deceased, or burnt them, as the smell was supposed to be disagreeable to the manes. In Italy, at the present day, it is customary to eat Beans and to distribute them among the poor on the anniversary of a death.

The practice of embalming the bodies of their dead, which was universal among the ancient Egyptians, had its origin, according to Diodorus, in the desire of the wealthy to be able to contemplate, in the midst of luxurious appointments, the features of their ancestors. Several times a year the mummies were brought out of the splendid chambers where they were kept; incense was burnt over them, and sweet-scented oil was poured over their heads, and carefully wiped off by a priest called in expressly to officiate. Herodotus has given us a description of the Egyptian method of embalming:--The brains having first been extracted through the nostrils by means of a curved iron probe, the head was filled with drugs. Then, with a sharp Ethiopian stone, an incision was made in the side, through which the intestines were drawn out; and the cavity was filled with powdered Myrrh, Cassia, and other perfumes, Frankincense excepted. Thus prepared, the body was sewn up, kept in natron (sesquicarbonate of soda) for seventy days, and then swathed in fine linen, smeared with gum, and finally placed in a wooden case made in the shape of a man. This was the best and most expensive style of embalming. A cheaper mode consisted in injecting oil of Cedar into the body, without removing the intestines, whilst for the poorer classes the body was merely cleansed; subjecting it in both cases to a natron bath, which completely dried the flesh. The Jews borrowed the practice of embalming from the Egyptians; for St. Mark records that, after the death of our Saviour, Nicodemus “brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of Jews is to bury.”

Old English Funeral Customs.

In England, there long prevailed an old custom of carrying garlands before the bier of youthful beauty, which were afterwards strewed over her grave, In ‘Hamlet,’ the Queen, scattering flowers over the grave of Ophelia, says:--

“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!
I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not have strewed thy grave.”

The practice of planting and scattering flowers over graves is noticed by Gay, who says:--

“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,
The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”

Rosemary was considered as an emblem of faithful remembrance. Thus Ophelia says: “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember.” Probably this was the reason that the plant was carried by the followers at a funeral in former days: a custom noticed by the poet in the following lines:--

“To show their love, the neighbours far and near
Follow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;
Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,
While dismally the parson walked before.”

It is still customary in some parts of England to distribute Rosemary among the company at a funeral, who frequently throw sprigs of it into the grave.

Wordsworth introduces in one of his smaller poems an allusion to a practice which still prevails in the North of England:--

“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,
Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;
A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,
One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”

It is stated in a note that--“In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box-wood is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up; and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.” Pepys mentions a churchyard near Southampton, where, in the year 1662, the graves were all sown with Sage.

Unfortunate lovers had garlands of Yew, Willow, and Rosemary laid on their biers; thus we read in the ‘Maid’s Tragedy’:--

“Lay a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal Yew;
Maidens, Willow branches bear;
Say that I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly gentle earth.”

It was an old English custom, at the funeral of a virgin, for a young woman to precede the coffin in the procession, carrying on her head a variegated garland of flowers and sweet herbs. Six young girls surrounded the bier, and strewed flowers along the streets to the place of burial. It was also formerly customary to carry garlands of sweet flowers at the funeral of dear friends and relatives, and not only to strew them on the coffin, but to plant them permanently on the grave. This pleasing practice, which gave the churchyard a picturesque appearance, owed its origin to the ancient belief that Paradise is planted with fragrant and beautiful flowers--a conception which is alluded to in the legend of Sir Owain, where the celestial Paradise, which is reached by the blessed after their passage through purgatory, is thus described:--

“Fair were her erbers with floures;
Rose and Lili divers colours,
Primros and Parvink,
Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,
Columbin and Mother-wer,
Than ani man may bithenke
It berth erbes of other maner,
Than ani in erth groweth here,
Though that is best of priis;
Evermore thai grene springeth,
For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,
And sweeter than licorice.”

In South Wales, the custom of planting and ornamenting graves is noticed by Brand in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ as being very common. He tells us that, in Glamorgan, many churchyards have something like the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this, it is usual to strew the graves with flowers and evergreens (within the church as well as out of it) at least thrice a year, on the same principle of delicate respect as the stones are whitened. No flowers or evergreens are permitted to be planted on graves but such as are sweet-scented: the Pink and Polyanthus, Sweet Williams, Gilliflowers and Carnations, Mignonette, Thyme, Hyssop, Camomile, and Rosemary make up the pious decoration of this consecrated garden. Turnesoles, Peonies, the African Marigold, the Anemone, and some other flowers, though beautiful, should never be planted on graves, because they are not sweet-scented.

The prejudice against old maids and old bachelors subsists among the Welsh in a very marked degree, so that their graves have not unfrequently been planted, by some satirical neighbours, not only with Rue, but with Thistles, Nettles, Henbane, and other noxious weeds.

In Glamorganshire, the old custom is still retained of strewing the bed whereon a corpse rests with fragrant flowers. In the South of England a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden by a young girl nearest in age and resemblance to the deceased, and afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat at church.

Plants as Death Portents.

Though scarcely to be characterised as “funereal,” there are some plants which have obtained a sinister reputation as either predicting death themselves, or being associated in some manner with fatal portents. Mannhardt tells us of a gloomy Swiss tradition, dating from the fifteenth century, which relates that the three children of a bootmaker of Basle having each in their garden a favourite tree, carefully studied the inflorescence during Lent. As the result of their close observation, the two sisters, Adelaide and Catherine, saw from the characteristics of the blossoms that they were predestined to enter a convent; whilst the boy Jean attentively watched the development of a red Rose, which predicted his entry into the Church and his subsequent martyrdom: as a matter of fact, it is said he was martyred at Prague by the Hussites.

The Greeks regarded Parsley as a funereal herb, and were fond of strewing the tombs of their dead with it: hence it came in time to be thought a plant of evil augury, and those who were on the point of death were commonly spoken of as being in need of Parsley. Something of this association of Parsley with death is still to be found in Devonshire, where a belief exists that to transplant Parsley is an offence against the guardian spirit who watches over the Parsley-beds, surely to be punished, either by misfortune or death, on the offender himself or some member of his family within a year.

In the Siebenbürgen of Saxony, the belief exists that at the moment when an infant dies in the house, Death passes like a shadow into the garden, and there plucks a flower.

In Italy, the red Rose is considered to be an emblem of an early death, and it is thought to be an evil omen if its leaves are perchance scattered on the ground. An apt illustration of this belief is found in the tragic story of poor Miss Ray, who was murdered at the Piazza entrance of Covent Garden Theatre, by a man named Hackman, on April 7th, 1779. Just prior to starting with her friend Mrs. Lewis for the theatre, a beautiful Rose fell from her bosom to the ground. She stooped to regain it, but at her touch the red leaves scattered themselves on the carpet, leaving the bare stalk in her hand. The unfortunate girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was evidently affected by the incident, and said nervously, “I trust I am not to consider this as an evil omen!” Soon rallying, however, she cheerfully asked Mrs. Lewis to be sure and meet her after the theatre--a request the fulfilment of which was prevented by her untimely fate.

Shakspeare has recorded that the withering of the Bay was looked upon as a certain omen of death; and it is an old fancy that if a Fir-tree be struck, withered, or burnt with lightning, the owner will soon after be seized with a mortal illness.

Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ alludes to the Daffodil as being under certain circumstances a death portent.

“When a Daffodill I see
Hanging down her head t’wards me,
Guess I may what I must be:
First, I shall decline my head;
Secondly, I shall be dead;
Lastly, safely buried.”

In Northamptonshire, a belief exists that if an Apple-tree blooms after the fruit is ripe, it surely portends death:--

“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,
Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”

In Devonshire, it is considered very unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies of the Valley, as the person who does this will in all probability die before twelve months have expired; and in the same county, a plentiful season for Hazel-nuts is believed to portend unusual mortality: hence the saying--

“Many Nits [Nuts],
Many pits [graves].”

Sloes are also sometimes associated with this portent, as another version of the rhyme runs--

“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,
Many Nits, many pits.”

It is thought very unlucky in Sussex to use green brooms in May, and an old saying is current in the same county that--

“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,
You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”

In West Sussex, there exists the strange idea that if anyone eats a Blackberry after Old Michaelmas Day (October 10th), death or disaster will alight either on the eater or his kinsfolk before the year is out.

In some parts of England a superstition exists that if in a row of Beans one should chance to come up white, instead of green, a death will occur in the family within the year.

In certain English counties there is a superstitious dread that if a drill go from one end of the field to the other without depositing any seed, some person on the farm will die either before the year is out or before the crop then sown is reaped.

There is a very ancient belief that if every vestige of the Christmas decorations is not removed from the church before Candlemas Day (February 2nd), there will be a death during the year in the family occupying the pew where perchance a leaf or a berry has been left. Herrick has alluded to this superstitious notion in his ‘Hesperides’:--

“Down with the Rosemary, and so
Down with the Baies and Mistletoe:
Down with the Holly, Ivy, all
Wherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;
That so the superstitious find
Not one least branch left thar behind
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.”

[Tailpiece]

Part the Second.

[Headpiece]

ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PLANTS.

=ACACIA.=--In the deserts of Arabia the finest tree is the _Acacia Seyal_, which is reputed to be the Shittah tree of the Old Testament. The timber of this tree was termed _Shittim_, translated by some as “incorruptible wood.” In Exodus xxv. it is recorded that the Ark of the Lord was made of _Shittim_ wood, overlaid within and without with pure gold, and having a crown of gold round about it; and in chapter xxvi. we read that the staves were made of the same wood, as were also the boards of the Tabernacle and the woodwork of the Altar on which the offerings were presented. From this same Acacia is obtained a fragrant and highly-prized gum which is employed as incense in religious ceremonials.----Tradition affirms that this Acacia--the _Nabkha_ of the Arabians--was the tree from which was fabricated the Saviour’s crown of thorns. It has many small sharp spines, and the leaves resemble those of the Ivy with which the Roman Emperors were crowned, thus making the mockery bitterly complete.----The Buddhists make use of the wood of the _Sami_ (_Acacia Suma_) to light the fire on their altars: this is done by striking it with the _Asvattha_, or Peepul--the act symbolising generation. This Acacia is one of the sacred trees of India, and yields an astringent or preservative substance.----The tree usually known in England by the name of Acacia is the _Robinia pseudo-Acacia_, or Locust-tree of America, named by Linnæus after the two Robins, herbalists to Henri IV., who introduced it into France in 1640. This tree would appear to have somewhat of a funeral character, since we find the American Freemasons make a practice of dropping twigs of it on the coffins of brethren. A sprig of Acacia is one of the emblems specially revered by Freemasons.----“It is curious,” says Mr. Reade, in ‘The Veil of Isis,’ “that _Houzza_, which Mahomet esteemed an idol--_Houzza_ so honoured in the Arabian works of Ghatfan, Koreisch, Renanâh, and Salem--should be simply the Acacia. Thence was derived the word _Huzza!_ in our language, which was probably at first a religious exclamation like the _Evoke!_ of the Bacchantes.”----The English newspapers lately gave an account of a singular species of American Acacia, stated to be growing at Virginia, Nevada, and exhibiting all the characteristics of a sensitive plant. At the commencement of 1883 the Acacia was reported to be about eight feet high, and growing rapidly. When the sun sets, its leaves fold together and the ends of the twigs coil up like a pig-tail; and if the latter are handled, there is evident uneasiness throughout the plant. Its highest state of agitation was reached when the tree was removed from the pot in which it was matured into a larger one. To use the gardener’s expression, it went very mad. It had scarcely been planted in its new quarters before the leaves began to stand up in all directions, like the hair on the tail of an angry cat, and soon the whole plant was in a quiver. At the same time it gave out a most sickening and pungent odour, resembling that of a rattlesnake when teased. The smell so filled the house, that it was necessary to open all the doors and windows, and it was a full hour before the plant calmed down and folded its leaves in peace.

=ACANTHUS.=--The Acanthus was a favourite plant amongst both the Greeks and Romans, who employed it for decorative purposes: its leaves form the principal adornment of the Corinthian capital, which was invented by Callimachus. How the idea was suggested to the architect is told us by Vitruvius. A young Corinthian damsel fell ill and died. After her interment, her nurse gathered her trinkets and ornaments into a basket, and lest they should be injured by the weather, she covered the basket with a tile, and placed it near her young mistress’s tomb over the root of an Acanthus, the stalks and leaves of which burst forth in the Spring, and spreading themselves on the outside of the basket, were bent back again at the top by the corner of the tile. Callimachus happening to pass by, was charmed with the beauty and novelty of this accidental arrangement, and took from it the idea of the Corinthian chapter. Both Greeks and Romans made use of the _Acanthus mollis_ in the form of garlands, with which they adorned their buildings, their furniture, and even their clothing. Theocritus speaks of a prize cup as having “a crust of soft Acanthus.” Virgil narrates that the plant formed the basis of a design embroidered on the mantle of Helen of Troy; and tells us that the handles of Alcimedon’s cup were enwreathed with what he elsewhere terms “Smiling Acanthus.”----Old English names for this plant were Brank-ursine and Bear’s-breech.----Acanthus is stated by astrologers to be under the dominion of the Moon.

=ACHYRANTHES.=--The _Apamarga_, an Indian variety of this plant, has given the name to the sacrificial rite called _Apâmârga Homa_, because at daybreak they offer a handful of flour made from the seeds of the Apamarga (_Achyranthes aspera_). According to a legend quoted by De Gubernatis, Indra had slain Vriitra and other demons, when he encountered the demon Namuchi and wrestled with him. Vanquished, he made peace with Namuchi on the understanding that he should never kill anything with a solid body, nor with a liquid body, neither by night nor by day. So Indra gathered a vegetable, which is neither solid nor liquid, and comes during the daybreak, when the night is past, but the day has not yet come. Then with the vegetable he attacked the monster Namuchi, who complained of this treachery. From the head of Namuchi sprang the plant _Apâmârga_. Indra afterwards destroyed all the monsters by means of this plant. As may be supposed after such a marvellous origin, the plant was soon looked upon as a powerful talisman. According to the _Atharvaveda_, it should be held in the hand, and invoked against the malady _Kshetriya_, and against witches, monsters, and nightmares. They call it the Victor, having in itself the strength of a thousand, destroying the effects of maledictions, and especially of those inimical to generation, which produce hunger, thirst, and poverty. It is also called the Lord of salutary plants, son of Vibhindant, having received all its power from Indra himself. The Hindus believe that the plant is a security against the bites of scorpions.

ACONITE.--See Monkshood.

=ACORUS.=--This aromatic Reed, or Sweet Flag, is absurdly said to have been called Acorus, from the Greek _koré_, pupil, because it was esteemed good for diseases of the eye. The sacred oil of the Jews--the “oil of holy ointment”--used to anoint the tabernacle, the ark of the testimony, the altar of burnt offerings, the altar of incense, the candlesticks, and all the sacred vessels, has the oil of Acorus as one of its ingredients. It is the “Sweet Calamus” mentioned in Exodus xxx.----The Acorus is a plant of the Moon.

=ADDER’S TONGUE.=--The Adder’s Tongue, or to give it its old Latin name, Christ’s Spear (_Ophioglossum vulgatum_), was formerly much prized as a remedy for wounds. Gerarde declared that boiled in olive oil it produced “a most excellent greene oyle, or rather a balsam for greene wounds comparable to oyle of St. John’s wort, if it doth not far surpasse it.” A preparation called the “green oil of charity” is still in request; and Adder’s Spear ointment (a compound of Adder’s Tongue Fern, Plantain, and sundry herbs) is well known in country places as a vulnerary. In olden times an Adder’s Tongue was reputed to be a wondrous cure for tumours, if plucked at the falling of the Moon, and applied with the accompaniment of an incantation.----Witches highly esteemed Adder’s Tongue as a plant to be employed in their spells. Astrologers class it as a herb of the Moon.

AFFADYL.--See Narcissus.

=AGNUS CASTUS.=--The “Chaste Tree” (_Vitex Agnus Castus_), a species of Willow, derives its name from the Greek _hagnos_, and Latin _castus_, both meaning chaste. The name was given to it, according to Pliny, from the custom of the Athenian matrons to strew their beds with it during the festival of the Thesmophora, held in honour of Ceres, when the strictest chastity was enjoined. At the same festival young girls adorned themselves with blossoms of the shrub and slept on its leaves in order to guard their innocence and purity.----Agnus Castus was consecrated to Æsculapius, and also, in the isle of Samos, to Juno. Prometheus was crowned with it. At Grecian weddings, the bride and groom carried crowns of it. It was also employed as a preservative against poisoning.----The seed of this shrub in later years acquired the name of _Piper Monachorum_, and in explanation it is said that, following the example of the matrons of Athens, who had discovered that the odour of branches of Agnus Castus combatted unchaste thoughts and desires, certain Christian monks made themselves girdles of the flexible boughs of the tree, by wearing which they professed to expel from their hearts all passions that love could excite.----Some of the old herbalists affirm that the seeds of Agnus Castus had a very powerful effect in arresting generation. Gerarde says “Agnus Castus is a singular medicine and remedy for such as would willingly live chaste, for it withstandeth all uncleanness or desire to the flesh, consuming and drying up the seed of generation, in what sort soever it bee taken, whether in pouder onely, or the decoction drunke, or whether the leaves be carried about the body; for which cause it was called _castus_, that is to say, chaste, cleane, and pure.” The leaves, burnt or strewn about, were reputed to drive away serpents; and, according to Dioscorides, a branch of the shrub, carried in the hand, would keep wayfarers from weariness.----Agnus Castus is held to be under the dominion of Mars in Capricorn.

ALBESPYNE.--See Hawthorn.

=AGRIMONY.=--The Agrimony or Egrimony (_Agrimonia Eupatoria_) was a herb much in vogue among the old herbalists, who attributed extraordinary virtues to it. Dioscorides prescribes it as a cure for the bitings and stingings of serpents. Gerarde says it is “good for them that have naughty livers,” and in fact it was at one time known as Liver-wort. Culpeper tells us that it will draw forth “thorns and splinters of wood, nails, or any other such thing gotten into the flesh,” and recommends it further as “a most admirable remedy for such whose lives are annoyed either by heat or cold.” Sore throat, gout, ague, colic, ear-ache, cancers, and ulcers are among the numerous complaints the herbalists professed to cure by means of syrups and salves made of Agrimony, a plant which has formed an ingredient in most of the herb teas which have been from time to time introduced.----The astrological government and virtues of Agrimony appear to the uninitiated somewhat complicated. If we may believe Culpeper, it is a herb under Jupiter and the sign Cancer, and strengthens those parts under the planet and sign, and removes diseases in them by sympathy; and those under Saturn, Mars, and Mercury by antipathy, if they happen in any part of the body governed by Jupiter, or under the signs Cancer, Sagittarius, or Pisces.----Michael Drayton, in his ‘Muse’s Elysium,’ thus refers to Agrimony, among other herbs dear to simplers:--

“Next these here Egrimony is,
That helps the serpent’s biting;
The blessed Betony by this,
Whose cures deserving writing.

“This All-heal, and so named of right,
New wounds so quickly healing;
A thousand more I could recite
Most worthy of revealing.”

=ALDER.=--The origin of the Alder is to be found in the following lines from Rapin’s poem on Gardens:--

“Of watery race Alders and Willows spread
O’er silver brooks their melancholy shade,
Which heretofore (thus tales have been believed)
Were two poor men, who by their fishing lived;
Till on a day when Pales’ feast was held,
And all the town with pious mirth was filled,
This impious pair alone her rites despised,
Pursued their care, till she their crime chastised:
While from the banks they gazed upon the flood,
The angry goddess fixed them where they stood,
Transformed to sets, and just examples made
To such as slight devotion for their trade.
At length, well watered by the bounteous stream,
They gained a root, and spreading trees became;
Yet pale their leaves, as conscious how they fell,
Which croaking frogs with vile reproaches tell.”

In Germany, Alders have often a funereal and almost diabolic character. It is a popular belief that they commence to weep, to supplicate, and to shed drops of blood if there is any talk of cutting them down.----A legend of the Tyrol narrates how a boy who had climbed a tree, overlooked the ghastly doings of certain witches beneath its boughs. They tore in pieces the corpse of a woman, and threw the portions in the air. The boy caught one, and kept it by him. The witches, on counting the pieces afterwards found that one was missing, and so replaced it by a scrap of Alder-wood, when instantaneously the dead came to life again.----Of the wood of the Alder, Virgil tells us, the first boats were made:--_Tunc Alnos primum fluvii sensere cavatas._----The Alder, or Aller, is said to be a tree of Venus, under the celestial signs of either Cancer or Pisces.

ALECOST.--See Costmary.

ALEHOOF, Ground-Ivy.--See Ivy.

=ALMOND.=--According to an ancient tradition mentioned by Servius, the origin of the Almond-tree is to be traced to Phyllis, a beautiful Thracian queen, who became enamoured of Demophoon, the son of Theseus and Phædra, and was wedded to him. Demophoon, who, whilst returning from the Trojan war, had been cast by a storm on the coast of Thrace soon after his marriage with the Queen, was recalled to Athens by his father’s death. He promised faithfully to return to his royal bride at the expiration of a month, but failed to do so, and Phyllis, distracted at his continued absence, after several futile visits to the sea-shore, expired of grief, and was transformed into an Almond-tree, which is called _Phylla_ by the Greeks. Some time after this metamorphosis the truant consort returned, and upon hearing of the untimely fate of Phyllis, he ran and clasped the tree in remorseful embrace. Loving even in death, his beautiful queen seems to have acknowledged his repentance, for the Almond-tree into which she had been transformed, although at that time stripped of its leaves, suddenly shot forth and blossomed, as if eager to show how unchangeable was poor Phyllis’s love.----A second account of the origin of the Almond-tree states that it sprang from the blood of the monster Agdistis, the offspring of Jupiter. This fable further narrates that the daughter of the river Sangarius fell in love with the beautiful tree, and after gathering its fruit, gave birth to a son named Atys.----A third account relates how Io, daughter of King Midas, was forsaken by Atys, whom she loved; and how Agdistis, on the death of Atys, mutilated his body, from which sprang the bitter Almond-tree, the emblem of grief.----Virgil made the flowering of the Almond a presage of the crop of Wheat.

“With many a bud if flowering Almonds bloom,
And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume,
So shall thy harvest like profusion yield,
And cloudless suns mature the fertile field.”

The Hebrew word _Shakad_, from which the Almond derives its name, means to make haste, or to awake early, given to the tree on account of its hasty growth and early maturity. Aaron’s rod, which budded and brought forth fruit in the Tabernacle during one day, was of an Almond-tree: “It budded and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded Almonds.” (Numbers xvii., 8). Among the Hebrews, the Almond-tree was regarded as the symbol of haste and vigilance, because of the suddenness of its blossoming, which announced the Spring. The Mahommedans consider its flowers typical of hope, because they bloom on the bare branches.----Romanists assign the blossoming Almond-tree to the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven.----In Tuscany, and other countries, a branch of the Almond-tree is employed to discover hidden treasures. It is carried to the place where the treasure is supposed to be concealed, and, according to popular superstition, its point will turn towards the exact spot. In the nuptial ceremonies of the Czechs, Almonds are distributed amongst the wedding guests.----Pliny considered Almonds a most powerful remedy against inebriation, and Plutarch relates an anecdote of a notorious wine-bibber, who, by his habitual use of bitter Almonds, used to escape being intoxicated.----The Almond-tree is under Jupiter. To dream of eating Almonds portends a journey: if they taste sweet, it will be a prosperous one; if bitter, the contrary.

=ALOE.=--The Hebrews appear to have entertained a great respect for the Aloe (_Ahaloth_). In the Bible it is frequently referred to in commendatory terms, and its use as a perfume is of very great antiquity. King David, in the Psalms, says: “All thy garments smell of Myrrh, and Aloes, and Cassia.” Solomon, in the Canticles, mentions Aloes as one of the chief spices; and in Proverbs (vii., 17) refers to it as a scent. Aloes is one of the spices mentioned by St. John as having been brought by Nicodemus to embalm the body of our Lord.----There are two trees which yield this fragrant wood, viz., _Aloexylum Agallochum_, a native of the mountains of Hindostan, and _Aquilaria Malaccensis_, which grows in Malacca: the wood of these aromatic trees forms the principal ingredient in the scented sticks burned by the Hindus and Chinese in their temples. The heart of the Chinese Aloe, or Wood Aloes, is called Calambac, or Tambac-wood, which is reckoned in the Indies more precious than gold itself: it is used as a perfume; as a specific for persons affected with fainting fits or with the palsy; and as a setting for the most costly jewels. Both the name and the plant of the aromatic Aloe are of Indian origin, and it must not be confounded with the common Aloes, most of which have an offensive smell and a bitter taste.----In Wood’s Zoography we read: “The Mahommedans respect the Aloe as a plant of a superior nature. In Egypt, it may be said to bear some share in their religious ceremonies, since whoever returns from a pilgrimage to Mecca hangs it over his street door as a proof of his having performed that holy journey. The superstitious Egyptians believe that this plant hinders evil spirits and apparitions from entering the house, and on this account whoever walks the streets in Cairo will find it over the doors of both Christians and Jews.”----The Arabic name of the Aloe, _Saber_, signifies patience, and in Mecca at the end of most graves, facing the epitaph, is planted an Aloe, as an allusion to the patience required by those awaiting the arrival of the great day of resurrection. Most Eastern poets, however, speak of the Aloe as the symbol of bitterness; and the Romans seem to have been well acquainted with this qualification, judging from the allusion to it in Juvenal:--“_Plus Aloes quam mellis habere._” “As bitter as Aloes” is a proverbial saying of considerable antiquity, derived doubtless from the acrid taste of the medicines obtained from the plant, and made principally from the pulp of the fleshy leaf of the Succotrine Aloe, the leaves of which have a remarkable efficacy in curing scalds and burns.----Not only, however, for its medicinal properties is the Aloe esteemed, for in some countries, particularly Mexico, the poor derive from it almost every necessary of life. The ancient manuscripts of Mexico are chiefly inscribed upon paper made from the fibres of the _pité_, or pith. Of the points of the leaves of the Aloe are made nails, darts, and awls, and with these last the Indians pierce holes in their ears when they propose to honour the Devil with some peculiar testimonies of their devotion.

=ALYSSUM.=--This plant was regarded by the Neapolitans as possessing magic qualities, and was suspended in their houses as a charm against the Evil Eye. Its name _Alyssum_ is derived from the Greek _a_, not, and _lussa_, madness. In England, the plant was called Alisson and Madwort, because, as Gerarde says, it is “a present remedie for them that are bitten of a mad dog.”

=AMARANTH.=--In Spenser’s ‘Fairy Queen’ is to be found the following allusion to the mythological origin of the Amaranth:--

“And all about grew every sort of flower,
To which sad lovers were transformed of yore;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phœbus’ paramour,
Foolish Narciss, that likes the watery shore:
Sad Amaranthus, made a flower but late,
Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore
Me seems I see Aminta’s wretched fate,
To whom sweet poets’ verse hath given endless date.”

The Amaranth was a sacred plant among the Greeks and Romans: from the former it received its name, which means “never-fading,” on account of the lasting nature of its blossoms. Hence it is considered the emblem of immortality. The Amaranth was also classed among the funeral flowers. Homer describes the Thessalians as wearing crowns of Amaranth at the funeral of Achilles; and Thessalus decorated the tomb of the same hero with Amaranth-blossoms. Philostratus records the custom of adorning tombs with flowers, and Artemidorus tells us that the Greeks were accustomed to hang wreaths of Amaranth in most of the temples of their divinities: and they regarded the Amaranth as the symbol of friendship. Milton crowns with Amaranth the angelic host assembled before the Deity:--

“With solemn adorations down they cast
Their crowns, inwove with Amaranth and gold--
Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom, but soon for man’s offence
To heaven removed, where first it grew.”

The same poet, as well as Spenser, classes the Amaranth amongst “those flowers that sad embroidery wear.”----In Sumatra, the people of the Batta country lead in times of peace a purely pastoral life, and are accustomed to play on a kind of flute crowned with garlands of Amaranth and other flowers.----At the Floral Games at Toulouse, a golden Amaranth was awarded for the best lyric composition.----In modern times, the Amaranth has given its name to an order instituted by Queen Christiana of Sweden, in the year 1633, at an entertainment given in honour of Don Antonio Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador. On this occasion she appeared in a dress covered with diamonds, attended by a suite nobles and ladies. At the conclusion of the ball she stripped her attire of the diamonds, and distributed them among the company, at the same time presenting the new order of knighthood, consisting of a ribbon and medal, with an Amaranth in enamel, encircled with the motto _Dolce nella memoria_.----In Roman Catholic countries, more especially in Portugal, the species of the flower known as the Globe Amaranth, Prince’s Feathers, and Cock’s Comb, are much cultivated for church decoration at Christmas time and during the Winter. The Amaranth is also selected as one of the flowers peculiarly appropriate to Ascension Day.----The species of Amaranth which we know as Love-lies-bleeding, has, in France, the singular name of _Discipline des religieuses_, the Nun’s Scourge.----The Amaranth was formerly known as Flower Gentle, Flower Velure, Floramor, and Velvet Flower. It is said to be under Saturn, and to be an excellent qualifier of the unruly actions of Venus.