Chapter III: Of Herbs Used in Decorations, in Heraldry, and for Ornament and Perfumes (2)

Coles says it was used with other evergreens to decorate churches at Christmas-time, and Folkard that, “In place of more costly incense, the ancients often employed Rosemary in their religious ceremonies. An old French name for it was _Incensier_. It was conspicuous on a very remarkable occasion in history. In “A Perfect Journall, etc., of that memorable Parliament begun at Westminster, Nov. 3, 1640,” is the following passage, “Nov. 28. That afternoon Master Prin and Master Burton came in to London, being met and accompanied with many thousands of horse and foot, and rode with rosemary and bayes in their hands and hats; which is generally esteemed the greatest affront that ever was given to the courts of justice in England.” The “affront” lay in the general rejoicing that attended this overthrowing of the sentence passed by the Star Chamber, and the causes which led to this enthusiasm were these: “Some years before,” Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick had written against the Government and the Bishops, and for this offence had been sentenced to pay a fine of £5000 each, to have their ears cut off, to stand in the pillory and to be imprisoned for life. “All of which,” says Clarendon, “was executed with rigour and severity enough.” “After being first imprisoned in England, Mr Pyrnne was sent to a castle in the island of Jersey, Dr Bastwick to Scilly, and Mr Burton to Guernsey.” Bastwick’s wife seized the first moment that the Commons were assembled (in Nov. 1640) to present a petition, with the result that on the fourth day after Parliament met, orders for their release were sent to the Governors of the respective castles. Clarendon, who, of course, had no sympathy, but much dislike for them, admits: “When they came near London, multitudes of people of several conditions, some on horseback, others on foot, met them some miles from the town; very many having been a day’s journey; and they were brought about two of the clocke in the afternoon in at Charing Cross, and carried into the city by above ten thousand persons with boughs and flowers in their hands, the common people strewing flowers and herbs in the ways as they passed, making great noise and expressions of joy for their deliverance and return; and in those acclamations, mingling loud and virulent exclamations against the bishops, “who had so cruelly persecuted such godly men.” An appendix,[76] devoted to this incident, further describes their entry, “The two branded persons riding first, side by side, with branches of rosemary in their hands, and two or three hundred horse closely following them, and multitudes of foot on either side of them, walking by them, every man on horseback or on foot having bays or rosemary in their hats or hands, and the people on either side of the street strewing the way as they passed with herbs, and such other greens as the season afforded, and expressing great joy for their return.” This splendid reception must have revealed very plainly to the Government the mind and temper of the people. Nowadays the exuberance of the mob in greeting popular heroes is much what it seems to have been then, only they do not generally express it in such a pretty way as strewing rosemary and bays.

Culpepper writes that Rosemary was used “not only for physical but civil purposes,” and among other uses, was placed in the dock of courts of justice. The reason for this was that among its many reputed medicinal virtues, “it was accounted singular good to expel the contagion of the pestilence from which poor prisoners too often suffered. It was also especially good to comfort the hearte and to helpe a weake memory,” and was generally highly thought of. Rosemary is still retained in the pharmacopœia and is popularly much valued as a stimulant to making hair grow. _L’eau de la reine d’Hongrie_, rosemary tops in proof spirit, was once famous as a restorative and is mentioned in Perrault’s fairy story of “The Sleeping Beauty.” After the princess pricks her hand with the spindle and falls into the fatal sleep, among the means taken to bring back consciousness, “en lui frotte les tempes avec de l’eau de la reine d’Hongrie; mais rien ne lui faisait revenir.” Rosemary is also an ingredient in _Eau de Cologne_. Its efficacy in magic is mentioned in another chapter. In the countries where it grows to a “very great height”[77] and the stem is “cloven out into thin boards, it hath served to make lutes, or such like instruments, and here with us carpenter’s rules, and to divers other purposes.”

[74] Hentzner’s “Travels.”

[75] Barnaby Googe’s “Husbandry” (1578).

[76] “History of the Rebellion.”

[77] Parkinson.

RUE (_Ruta graveolens_).

Reverend sirs,
For you there’s Rosemary and Rue; these keep
Seeming and savour all the winter long,
Grace and remembrance to you both.

_Winter’s Tale_, iv. 3.

Here did she fall a tear; here, in this place,
I’ll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace;
Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

_Richard II._, iii. 4.

There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of
grace o’Sundays O! you may wear your rue with a difference.

_Hamlet_, iv. 5.

Michael from Adam’s eyes the film ’emoved
... then purged with euphrasy and rue,
The visual nerve; for he had much to see.

_Paradise Lost_, book xi.

He who sows hatred, shall gather rue.

_Danish Proverb._

“Ruth was the English name for sorrow and remorse, and _to rue_ was to be sorry for anything or to have pity, ... and so it was a natural thing to say that a plant which was so bitter and had always borne the name _Rue_ or _Ruth_ must be connected with repentance. It was therefore the Herb of Repentance, and this was soon transformed into the Herb of Grace.”[78] Canon Ellacombe’s explanation makes clear why rue was often alluded to symbolically, especially by Shakespeare, to whom the thought of repentance leading to grace seems to have been an accustomed one. It has been often stated the actual origin of the name was the fact that rue was used to make “the _aspergillum_, or holy-water brush, in the ceremony known as the _asperges_, which usually precedes the Sunday celebration of High Mass; but for this supposition there is no ground.”[79] Rue was supposed to be a powerful defence against witches, and was used in many spells, and Mr Friend describes a “magic wreath” in which it is used by girls for divination. The wreath is made up of Rue, Willow and Crane’s-bill. “Walking backwards to a tree they throw the wreath over their heads, until it catches on the branches and is held fast. Each time they fail to fix the wreath means another year of single blessedness.” In the Tyrol, a bunch of Rue, Broom, Maidenhair, Agrimony and Ground Ivy will enable the wearer to see witches. Lupton adds a tribute to its powers of magic: “That[80] Pigeons be not hunted nor killed of Cats at the windowes, or at every passage and at every Pigeon’s hole, hang or put little Branches of Rew, for Rew hath a marvellous strength against wilde Beasts. As Didymus doth say.” Milton refers to a belief, very widely spread, that Rue was specially good for the eyes, when he says:

Michael
... purged with Euphrasie and Rue,
The visual nerve.

that Adam’s eyes should be made clear. (Euphrasie is Eyebright.) Rue was also an antidote to poison, and preserved people from contagion, particularly that of the plague, and was thought to be of great virtue for many disorders. “Some doe rippe up a beade-rowle of the vertues of Rue, as Macer the poet and others” who apparently declared it to be good for almost every ill. Mr Britten remarks: “It was long, and probably still is the custom to strew the dock of the Central Criminal Court at the Old Bailey with Rue. It arose in 1750, when the contagious disease known as jail fever, raged in Newgate to a great extent. It may be remembered that during the trial of the Mannings (1849), the unhappy woman, after one of the speeches of the opposing counsel, gathered up some of the sprigs of Rue which lay before her, and threw them at his head.”

Turner recommends Rue “made hott in the pyll of a pomegranate” for the “ake of the eares.”

[78] “Plant-lore and Garden-craft of Shakespeare,” Canon Ellacombe.

[79] Britten.

[80] “Book of Notable Things” (1575).

SOUTHERNWOOD (_Artemisa Abrotanum_).

Lavender and Sweet Marjoram march away,
Sothernwood and Angelica don’t stay,
Plantain, the Thistle, which they blessed call,
And useful Wormwood, in their order fall.

_Of Plants_, book i.--COWLEY.

I’ll give to him,
Who gathers me, more sweetness than he’d dream
Without me--more than any lily could.
I, that am flowerless, being Southernwood.

Shall I give you honesty,
Or lad’s love to wear?
Or a wreath less fair to see,
Juniper and Rosemary?
Flaxenhair?

Rosemary, lest you forget,
What was lief and fair,
Lad’s love, sweet thro’ fear and fret,
Lad’s love, green and living yet,
Flaxenhair.

_Finnish Bride Song._--N. HOPPER.

Southernwood has many _sobriquets_, among which are Lads or Boy’s Love, Old Man, and Maiden’s Ruin; the last a corruption of _Armoise du Rône_, Mr Friend says. The French have contracted the same title to _Auronne_ and also call the plant _Bois de St Jean_ and _Citronelle_. Dutch people used to call it _Averonne_ (another form of the French contraction) and the Germans, _Stab-wurtz_. The name _Bois de St Jean_ is given it, because in some parts of France it is one of the plants dedicated to St John the Baptist, and the German title came from their faith in it as a “singular wound-hearb.” Turner considered that the fumes of it being burned, would drive away serpents, and credits it with many valuable properties, chiefly medicinal; and Culpepper calls it “a gallant, mercurial plant, worthy of more esteem than it hath.” It has also been supposed to have great virtue to prevent the hair falling out. In later days Hogg has declared it to have an agreeable, exhilarating smell,” and to be “eminently diaphoretic.” But Thornton, who loves to shatter all favourite herbal notions, remarks that these good results are chiefly because it “operates on the mind of the patient,” and that as a fomentation it is hardly more useful “than cloths wrung out of hot water.” So transitory is good report!

WOOD-RUFF (_Asperula Odorata_).

The threstlecoc him threteth oo
A way is huere wynter wo
When woodrove springeth.

_Springtide_, 1300.

All that we say, and all we leave unsaid
Be buried with her....
Pansies for thoughts, and wood-ruff white as she,
And, for remembrance, quiet rosemary.

_Elegy._--HOPPER.

The wood-ruff or wood-rowell has its leaves “set about like a star, or the rowell of a spurre,” whereby it gains its name. English people also called it Wood-rose and Sweet-Grass; the French, _Hépatique étoilée_, and the Germans, _Waldmeister_ and _Herzfreude_, and they steep it in “_Bohle_,” a kind of “cup” made of light wine.

In England it used to be “made up into garlands or bundles and hanged up in houses in the heate of summer, doth very wel attemper the aire, coole and make fresh the place, to the delight and comfort of such as are therein.”[81] Wood-ruff was employed to decorate churches, and churchwardens’ accounts still exist (at St Mary-atte-Hill, London) including wood-ruff garlands and lavender in the expenses incurred in keeping St Barnabas’ Day. Johnston says[82]: “The dried leaves are put among linen for their sweet smell, and children put a whorl between the leaves of their books with a like purpose, and many people like to have one neatly dried laid in the case of their watch.” Sensible, as well as pretty customs! It was one of the herbs recommended to “make the hart merrye,” and Tusser puts it among his “stilling herbs,” thus: “Wood-roffe, for sweet waters and cakes.” Country people used to lay it a little bruised to a cut, and its odour of new made hay must have made it a pleasanter remedy than many that they used.

[81] Gerarde.

[82] “Botany of the Eastern Borders” (1853).

WORMWOOD (_Artemisia Absinthium_).

And none a greater Stoick is, than I;
The _Stoa’s_ Pillars on my stalk rely;
Let others please, to profit is my pleasure.
The love I slowly gain’s a lasting treasure.

_Of Plants_, book i.--COWLEY.

What savour is better, if physic be true,
In places infected than wormwood and rue
It is as a comfort for heart and the brain,
And therefore to have it, it is not in vain.

_July’s Husbandry._--TUSSER.

Here is my moly of much fame
In magic often used;
Mugwort and nightshade for the same,
But not by me abused

_Muses’ Elysium._--DRAYTON.

Traditions cluster round _Artemisia Absinthium_ and A. Vulgaris, Mugwort. Canon Ellacombe says that the species are called after Diana, as she was supposed to “find them and delivered their powers and leechdom to Chiron the Centaur... who named these worts from the name of Diana, Artemis;” and he thinks therefore that “Dian’s bud,” spoken of in the _Midsummer Night’s Dream_ was one of them. The plant was of some importance among the Mexicans, and when they kept the festival of Huixtocihuatl, the Goddess of Salt, they began with a great dance of women, who were joined to one another by strings of different flowers, and who wore on their heads garlands of wormwood. This dance continued all night, and on the following morning the dance of the priests began. (_Nineteenth Century_, Sept. 1879.)

According to the ancients, Wormwood counteracts the effects of poisoning by toadstools, hemlock, and the biting of the shrew mouse or sea-dragon; while Mugwort preserves the wayfarer from fatigue, sun-stroke, wild beasts, the Evil Eye in man, and also from evil spirits! Lupton says that it is “commonly affirmed that, on Midsummer Eve, there is found at the root of Mugwort a coal which keeps safe from the plague, carbuncle, lightning, and the quartan ague, them that bear the same about them; and Mizaldus, the writer hereof, saith that it is to be found the same day under the Plantain, which is especially and chiefly to be found at noon.”[83] Later writers have unkindly insisted that these wonderful “coals” were no more nor less than old dead roots! Gerarde and Parkinson are both dignified and contemptuous over these stories. Gerarde says, “Many other fantasticall devices invented by poets are to be seen in the works of ancient writers. I do of purpose omit them, as things unworthy of my recording or your reviewing.” Parkinson is still more severe on “idle superstitions and irreligious relations,” and abuses this special “idle conceit,” which Gerarde has not deigned to repeat. It is told even by “Bauhinus, who glorieth to be an eye-witnesse of this foppery. But oh! the weake and fraile nature of man! Which I cannot but lament.” Turner devotes a great deal of space to the disputes of writers as to the identity of the “true Ponticke Wormwood,” and says that “he himselfe is certainly accurate on the point, having been taught it by Gerhardas de Wyck, at that tyme the Emperour’s secretary” at Cologne. “This noble Clerk was afterwards sent by Charles the fyft, Embassator to the great Turke.”

It is from wormwood that _Absinthe_ is made; and it has been used instead of hops in making beer. It used to be laid among stuffs and furs to keep away moths and insects--by its bitterness, ordinary folk supposed, but Culpepper knew better, and gives an astrological reason: “I was once in the tower and viewed the wardrobe and there was a great many fine cloaths (I can give them no other title, for I was never either linen or woolen draper), yet as brave as they looked, my opinion was that the moths might consume them. Moths are under the dominion of Mars; this herb Wormwood (also an herb of Mars) being laid among cloaths will make a moth scorn to meddle with the cloaths as much as a lion scorns to meddle with a mouse, or an eagle with a fly.” One would not expect to find a moth a “martial creature,” but evidently he _is_, and this explanation of the working of the law of “sympathies,” not only tells us so, but kindly shows us a sure means of safeguarding our goods from an ubiquitous enemy.

Mugwort has many reputed medical virtues, and Dr Thornton who usually crushes any pretension to such claims, says it “merits the attention of English physicians, in regard to gout.” It is with this plant that the Japanese prepare the _Moxa_ that they use as a cautery to a great extent.

Mugwort is said to be a good food for poultry and turkeys. De Gubernatis tells a Russian legend about this plant which they call _Bech_. Once the Evil One offended his brother, the Cossack Sabba, who seized and bound him, and said he should not be released till he had done him some great service. Presently, some Poles came close by and made a feast, and were happy, leaving their horses to graze. The Cossack Sabba coveted the horses and promised the Evil One his liberty if he could manage to get them. The Evil One then sent other demons to the field and caused Mugwort to spring up, whereupon the horses trotted away, and as they did so, the Mugwort moaned “_bech, bech_.” And now when a horse treads on it, the plant remembers the Pole’s horses and still moans “_bech, bech!_” for which reason, in the Ukraine it is still called by that name. It is left untold whether the flight of the horses was due to the magical nature of the plants, or to their usual bitterness. The latter is likely enough, as according to Dr Thornton, horses and goats are not fond of it, and cows and swine refuse it.

Other well-known varieties of Wormwood are _H. pontica_, Roman wormwood whose leaves are less bitter; and _A. Maritima_, sea-wormwood, and _A. Santonica_, Tartarian wormwood.

[83] “Notable Things.”

BAY (_Laurus Nobilis_).

Then in my lavender I’ll lay,
Muscado put among it,
And here and there a leaf of bay,
Which still shall run along it.

_Muses’ Elysium._

This done, we’ll draw lots who shall buy
And gild the bays and rosemary.

_Hesperides._--HERRICK.

Down with the rosemary and bays,
Down with the mistletoe,
Instead of holly, now upraise,
The greener box, for show.

_Ceremonies for Candlemas Eve._--HERRICK.

A Bay-tree invites criticism, as it is certainly not a “herb,” but it is so often classed with some of them, especially with rosemary (to whom it seems to have been a sort of twin) that a brief extract from its interesting history must be made. Herrick’s verses show that both for weddings and decorations, rosemary and bays were paired together--bays being also gilded at weddings--and Brand quotes some lines from the “Wit’s Interpreter” to show that alike at funerals, they were fellows:--

Shrouded she is from top to toe,
With Lillies which all o’er her grow,
Instead of bays and rosemary.

And Coles says, “Cypresse garlands are of great account at funeralls amongst the gentiler sort, but rosemary and bayes are used by the commons both at funeralls and weddings.” Parkinson’s testimony is eloquent: “It serveth to adorne the house of God, as well as of man; to procure warmth, comfort, and strength to the limmes of men and women by bathings and anoyntings out, and by drinks, etc., inward: to season the vessels wherein are preserved our meates, as well as our drinkes; to crown or encircle as with a garland the heads of the living, and to sticke and decke forth the bodies of the dead; so that from the cradle to the grave we have still use of, we have still need of it.” No one could give higher praise to its natural virtues, but in other countries, it was endowed with supernatural ones. “Neyther falling sickness, neyther devyll, wyll infest or hurt one in that place where a bay-tree is. The Romans call it the Plant of the Good Angell.”[84] On the contrary, the withering of bay-trees was a very ill omen, and a portent of death. Canon Ellacombe says this superstition was imported from Italy, but it seems to have taken root in England. Shakespeare mentions it in _Richard II._, as if it were no new idea; and Evelyn tells us, as if he were adding a fresh fact to a store of common knowledge, that in 1629, at Padua, before a great pestilence broke out, almost all the Bay-trees about that famous University grew sick and perished.

Sir Thomas Browne deals with another belief: “That bays will protect from the mischief of lightning and thunder is a quality ascribed thereto, common with the fig-tree, eagle and skin of a seal. Against so famous a quality Vicomeratus produceth experiment of a bay-tree blasted in Italy. And, therefore, although Tiberius for this intent did wear laurel upon his temples, yet did Augustus take a more probable course, who fled under arches and hollow vaults for protection.” Sir Thomas is very logical.

It is not always clear when Laurel and when Bay is intended, because our Bay-tree was often called Laurel in Elizabethan days. For instance:--

And when from Daphne’s tree he plucks more Baies,
His shepherd’s pipe may chant more heavenly lays.

Intro. to _Br. Pastorals_ by CHRISTOPHER BROOKE.

If one is airily told one may pluck _bays_ from a _laurel_ bush, it is impossible to know which is really meant, and a certain confusion between the two is inevitable. William Browne, who took, or pretended to take, seriously the view that bays could not be hurt by thunder, brings forward an ingenious theory to account for it. It is that “being the materials of poets ghirlands, it is supposed not subject to any of Jupiter’s thunderbolts, as other trees are.

“Where Bayes still grow (by thunder not struck down),
The victor’s garland and the poet’s crown.”

Besides being a prophet of evil, the Bay-tree was also a token of joy and triumph. “In Rome, they use it to trim up their _Churches_ and _Monasteries_ on Solemn _Festivals_ ... as also on occasion of Signal _Victories_ and other joyful Tidings; and these _Garlands_ made up with _Hobby-Horse Tinsel_, make a glittering show and rattling Noise when the _Air_ moves them”; also, “With the _Leaves_ of _Laurel_ they made up their _Despatches_ and Letters _Laurus involutoe_, wrapt in Bay-leaves, which they sent the Senate from the victorious General.” Imagine a “victorious General” now sitting down to label despatches with leaves, signifying triumph! “Ere Reuter yet had found his range,” how much better the art of becoming ceremonial was understood.

Finally, the Bay was regarded as a panacea for all ailments, and, therefore, the statue of Æsculapius was crowned with its leaves.

I append to this book a copy of the List of Herbs that Tusser gives in “March’s Abstract.” It will be seen that he has carefully classified them according to their suitability for stilling, strewing, bough-pots or kitchen.

[84] “Book of Notable Things,” C. Lupton.