Part 19 (1/2)
”There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.”
Vervain, from time immemorial, has been the floral symbol of enchantment, owing to its having been in ancient times much in request for all kinds of divinations and incantations. Virgil, it may be remembered, alludes to this plant as one of the charms used by an enchantress:--
”Bring running water, bind those altars round With fillets, with vervain strew the ground.”
Parsley, according to floral language, has a double signification, denoting feasting and death. On festive occasions the Greeks wore wreaths of parsley, and on many other occasions it was employed, such as at the Isthmian games. On the other hand, this plant was strewn over the bodies of the dead, and decked their graves.
”The weeping willow,” as Mr. Ingram remarks, ”is one of those natural emblems which bear their florigraphical meaning so palpably impressed that their signification is clear at first sight.” This tree has always been regarded as the symbol of sorrow, and also of forsaken love. In China it is employed in several rites, having from a remote period been regarded as a token of immortality. As a symbol of bitterness the aloe has long been in repute, and ”as bitter as aloes” is a proverbial expression, doubtless derived from the acid taste of its juice. Eastern poets frequently speak of this plant as the emblem of bitterness; a meaning which most fitly coincides with its properties. The lily of the valley has had several emblems conferred upon it, each of which is equally apposite. Thus in reference to the bright hopeful season of spring, in which it blossoms, it has been regarded as symbolical of the return of happiness, whilst its delicate perfume has long been indicative of sweetness, a characteristic thus beautifully described by Keats:--
”No flower amid the garden fairer grows Than the sweet lily of the lowly vale, The queen of flowers.”
Its perfect snow-white flower is the emblem of purity, allusions to which we find numerously scattered in the literature of the past. One of the emblems of the white poplar in floral language is time, because its leaves appear always in motion, and ”being of a dead blackish-green above, and white below,” writes Mr. Ingram, ”they were deemed by the ancients to indicate the alternation of night and day.” Again, the plane-tree has been from early times made the symbol of genius and magnificence; for in olden times philosophers taught beneath its branches, which acquired for it a reputation as one of the seats of learning. From its beauty and size it obtained a figurative meaning; and the arbutus or strawberry-tree (_Arbutus unedo_) is the symbol of inseparable love, and the narcissus denotes self-love, from the story of Narcissus, who, enamoured of his own beauty, became spell-bound to the spot, where he pined to death. Sh.e.l.ley describes it as one of the flowers growing with the sensitive plant in that garden where:--
”The pied wind flowers and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die at their own dear loveliness.”
The sycamore implies curiosity, from Zacchaeus, who climbed up into this tree to witness the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem; and from time immemorial the violet has been the emblem of constancy:--
”Violet is for faithfulness, Which in me shall abide, Hoping likewise that from your heart You will not let it hide.”
In some cases flowers seem to have derived their symbolism from certain events a.s.sociated with them. Thus the periwinkle signifies ”early recollections, or pleasures of memory,” in connection with which Rousseau tells us how, as Madame Warens and himself were proceeding to Charmattes, she was struck by the appearance of some of these blue flowers in the hedge, and exclaimed, ”Here is the periwinkle still in flower.”
Thirty years afterwards the sight of the periwinkle in flower carried his memory back to this occasion, and he inadvertently cried, ”Ah, there is the periwinkle.” Incidents of the kind have originated many of the symbols found in plant language, and at the same time invested them with a peculiar historic interest.
Once more, plant language, it has been remarked, is one of those binding links which connects the sentiments and feelings of one country with another; although it may be, in other respects, these communities have little in common. Thus, as Mr. Ingram remarks in the introduction to his ”Flora Symbolica” (p. 12), ”from the unlettered North American Indian to the highly polished Parisian; from the days of dawning among the mighty Asiatic races, whose very names are buried in oblivion, down to the present times, the symbolism of flowers is everywhere and in all ages discovered permeating all strata of society. It has been, and still is, the habit of many peoples to name the different portions of the year after the most prominent changes of the vegetable kingdom.”
In the United States, the language of flowers is said to have more votaries than in any other part of the world, many works relative to which have been published in recent years. Indeed, the subject will always be a popular one; for further details ill.u.s.trative of which the reader would do well to consult Mr. H.G. Adams's useful work on the ”Moral Language and Poetry of Flowers,” not to mention the constant allusions scattered throughout the works of our old poets, such as Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Drayton.
Footnotes:
1. Introduction, p. 12.
2. Folkard's ”Plant Legends,” p. 389.
3. See Judith xv. 13.
4. ”Flower-lore,” pp. 197-8.
5. ”Plant-lore of Shakespeare.”
6. ”Flower-lore,” p. 168.
CHAPTER XV.
FABULOUS PLANTS.
The curious traditions of imaginary plants found amongst most nations have partly a purely mythological origin. Frequently, too, they may be attributed to the exaggerated accounts given by old travellers, who, ”influenced by a desire to make themselves famous, have gone so far as to pretend that they saw these fancied objects.” Anyhow, from whatever source sprung, these productions of ignorance and superst.i.tion have from a very early period been firmly credited. But, like the accounts given us of fabulous animals, they have long ago been acknowledged as survivals of popular errors, which owed their existence to the absence of botanical knowledge.
We have elsewhere referred to the great world tree, and of the primitive idea of a human descent from trees. Indeed, according to the early and uncultured belief of certain communities, there were various kinds of animal-producing trees, accounts of which are very curious. Among these may be mentioned the vegetable lamb, concerning which olden writers have given the most marvellous description. Thus Sir John Maundeville, who in his ”Voyage and Travel” has recorded many marvellous sights which either came under his notice, or were reported to him during his travels, has not omitted to speak of this remarkable tree. Thus, to quote his words:--”There groweth a manner of fruit as though it were gourdes; and when they be ripe men cut them in two, and men find within a little beast, in flesh, in bone, and blood--as though it were a little lamb withouten wolle--and men eat both the fruit and the beast, and that is a great marvel; of that fruit I have eaten although it were wonderful; but that I know well that G.o.d is marvellous in His works.” Various accounts have been given of this wondrous plant, and in Parkinson's ”Paradisus”
it is represented as one of the plants which grew in the Garden of Eden.
Its local name is the Scythian or Tartarian Lamb; and, as it grows, it might at a short distance be taken for an animal rather than a vegetable production. It is one of the genus Polypodium; root dec.u.mbent, thickly clothed with a very soft close hoal, of a deep yellow colour. It is also called by the Tartars ”Barometz,” and a Chinese nickname is ”Rufous dog.” Mr. Bell, in his ”Journey to Ispahan,” thus describes a specimen which he saw:--”It seemed to be made by art to imitate a lamb. It is said to eat up and devour all the gra.s.s and weeds within its reach.