Book ii

. Song 4.

FOOTNOTES:

[23:1] "Names of Herbes," s.v. Malus Armeniaca.

[24:1] The Apricot has usually been supposed to have come from Armenia, but there is now little doubt that its original country is the Himalaya (M. Lavaillee).

[24:2] On a Cherry tree in an orchard.

ASH.

_Aufidius._

Let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained Ash an hundred times hath broke, And starr'd the moon with splinters.

_Coriolanus_, act iv, sc. 5 (112).

Warwickshire is more celebrated for its Oaks and Elms than for its Ash trees. Yet considering how common a tree the Ash is, and in what high estimation it was held by our ancestors, it is strange that it is only mentioned in this one passage. Spenser spoke of it as "the Ash for nothing ill;" it was "the husbandman's tree," from which he got the wood for his agricultural implements; and there was connected with it a great amount of mystic folk-lore, which was carried to its extreme limit in the Yggdrasil, or legendary Ash of Scandinavia, which was almost looked upon as the parent of Creation: a full account of this may be found in Mallet's "Northern Antiquities" and other works on Scandinavia. It is an English native tree,[24:3] and it adds much to the beauty of any English landscape in which it is allowed to grow. It gives its name to many places, especially in the South, as Ashdown, Ashstead, Ashford, &c.; but to see it in its full beauty it must be seen in our northern counties, though the finest in England is said to be at Woburn.

"The Oak, the Ash, and the Ivy tree, O, they flourished best at hame, in the north countrie."

_Old Ballad._

In the dales of Yorkshire it is especially beautiful, and any one who sees the fine old trees in Wharfdale and Wensleydale will confess that, though it may not have the rich luxuriance of the Oaks and Elms of the southern and midland counties, yet it has a grace and beauty that are all its own, so that we scarcely wonder that Gilpin called it "the Venus of the woods."

FOOTNOTES:

[24:3] It is called in the "Promptorium Parvulorum" "Esche," and the seed vessels "Esche key."

ASPEN.

(1) _Marcus._

O, had the monster seen those lily hands Tremble, like Aspen leaves, upon a lute.

_Titus Andronicus_, act 2, sc. 4 (44).

(2) _Hostess._

Feel, masters, how I shake. . . . . Yea, in very truth do I an 'twere an Aspen leaf.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (114).

The Aspen or Aspe[25:1] (_Populus tremula_) is one of our three native Poplars, and has ever been the emblem of enforced restlessness, on account of which it had in Anglo-Saxon times the expressive name of quick-beam. How this perpetual motion in the "light quivering Aspen" is produced has not been quite satisfactorily explained; and the mediæval legend that it supplied the wood of the Cross, and has never since ceased to tremble, is still told as a sufficient reason both in Scotland and England.

"Oh! a cause more deep, More solemn far the rustic doth assign, To the strange restlessness of those wan leaves; The cross, he deems, the blessed cross, whereon The meek Redeemer bowed His head to death, Was formed of Aspen wood; and since that hour Through all its race the pale tree hath sent down A thrilling consciousness, a secret awe, Making them tremulous, when not a breeze Disturbs the airy thistle-down, or shakes The light lines of the shining gossamer."

MRS. HEMANS.

The Aspen has an interesting botanical history, as being undoubtedly, like the Scotch fir, one of the primæval trees of Europe; while its grey bark and leaves and its pleasant rustling sound make the tree acceptable in our hedgerows, but otherwise it is not a tree of much use. In Spenser's time it was considered "good for staves;" and before his time the tree must have been more valued than it is now, for in the reign of Henry V. an Act of Parliament was passed (4 Henry V. c. 3) to prevent the consumption of Aspe, otherwise than for the making of arrows, with a penalty of an Hundred Shillings if used for making pattens or clogs. This Act remained in force till the reign of James I., when it was repealed. In our own time the wood is valued for internal panelling of rooms, and is used in the manufacture of gunpowder.

By the older writers the Aspen was the favourite simile for female loquacity. The rude libel is given at full length in "The Schoole-house of Women" (511-545), concluding thus--

"The Aspin lefe hanging where it be, With little winde or none it shaketh; A woman's tung in like wise taketh Little ease and little rest; For if it should the hart would brest."

HAZLITT'S _Popular English Poetry_, vol. iv, p. 126.

And to the same effect Gerard concludes his account of the tree thus: "In English Aspe and Aspen tree, and may also be called Tremble, after the French name, considering it is the matter whereof women's tongues were made (as the poets and some others report), which seldom cease wagging."

FOOTNOTES:

[25:1] "Espe" in "Promptorium Parvulorum." "Aspen" is the case-ending of "Aspe."

BACHELOR'S BUTTON.

_Hostess._

What say you to young Master Fenton? he capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May; he will carry't, he will carry't; 'tis in his Buttons; he will carry't.

_Merry Wives_, act iii, sc. 2 (67).

"Though the Bachelor's Button is not exactly named by Shakespeare, it is believed to be alluded to in this passage; and the supposed allusion is to a rustic divination by means of the flowers, carried in the pocket by men and under the apron by women, as it was supposed to retain or lose its freshness according to the good or bad success of the bearer's amatory prospects."[27:1]

The true Bachelor's Button of the present day is the double Ranunculus acris, but the name is applied very loosely to almost any small double globular flowers. In Shakespeare's time it was probably applied still more loosely to any flowers in bud (according to the derivation from the French _bouton_). Button is frequently so applied by the old writers--

"The more desire had I to goo Unto the roser where that grewe The freshe Bothum so bright of hewe.

* * * * *

But o thing lyked me right welle; I was so nygh, I myght fele Of the Bothom the swote odour And also see the fresshe colour; And that right gretly liked me."

_Romaunt of the Rose._

And by Shakespeare--

The canker galls the infants of the Spring Too oft before their Buttons be disclosed.

_Hamlet_, act i, sc. 3 (54).

FOOTNOTES:

[27:1] Mr. J. Fitchett Marsh, of Hardwicke House, Chepstow, in "The Garden." I have to thank Mr. Marsh for much information kindly given both in "The Garden" and by letter.

BALM, BALSAM, OR BALSAMUM.

(1) _K. Richard._

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the Balm from an anointed king.

_Richard II_, act iii, sc. 2 (54).

(2) _K. Richard._

With mine own tears I wash away my Balm.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (207).

(3) _K. Henry._

'Tis not the Balm, the sceptre, and the ball.

_Henry V_, act iv, sc. 1 (277).

(4) _K. Henry._

Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, Thy Balm wash'd off, wherewith thou wast anointed.

_3rd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 1 (16).

(5) _K. Henry._

My pity hath been Balm to heal their wounds.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 8 (41).

(6) _Lady Anne._

I pour the helpless Balm of my poor eyes.

_Richard III_, act i, sc. 2 (13).

(7) _Troilus._

But, saying thus, instead of oil and Balm, Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me The knife that made it.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act i, sc. 1 (61).

(8) _1st Senator._

We sent to thee, to give thy rages Balm.

_Timon of Athens_, act v, sc. 4 (16).

(9) _France._

Balm of your age, Most best, most dearest.

_King Lear_, act i, sc. 1 (218).

(10) _K. Henry._

Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse Be drops of Balm to sanctify thy head.

_2nd Henry IV_, act iv, sc. 5 (114).

(11) _Mowbray._

I am disgraced, impeach'd, and baffled here: Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear; The which no Balm can cure, but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison.

_Richard II_, act i, sc. 1 (170).

(12) _Dromio of Syracuse._

Our fraughtage, Sir, I have conveyed aboard, and I have bought The oil, the Balsamum, and aqua vitæ.

_Comedy of Errors_, act iv, sc. 1 (187).

(13) _Alcibiades._

Is this the Balsam that the usuring Senate Pours into captains' wounds?

_Timon of Athens_, act iii, sc. 5 (110).

(14) _Macbeth._

Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.

_Macbeth_, act ii, sc. 2 (37).

(15) _Quickly._

The several chairs of order look you scour With juice of Balm and every precious flower.

_Merry Wives_, act v, sc. 5 (65).

(16) _Cleopatra._

As sweet as Balm, as soft as air, as gentle.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act v, sc. 2 (314).

(17)

And trembling in her passion, calls it Balm, Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good.

_Venus and Adonis_ (27).

(18)

And drop sweet Balm in Priam's painted wound.

_Lucrece_ (1466).

(19)

With the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh.

_Sonnet_ cvii.

In all these passages, except the two last, the reference is to the Balm or Balsam which was imported from the East, from very early times, and was highly valued for its curative properties. The origin of Balsam was for a long time a secret, but it is now known to have been the produce of several gum-bearing trees, especially the Pistacia lentiscus and the Balsamodendron Gileadense; and now, as then, the name is not strictly confined to the produce of any one plant. But in Nos. 15 and 16 the reference is no doubt to the Sweet Balm of the English gardens (_Melissa officinalis_), a plant highly prized by our ancestors for its medicinal qualities (now known to be of little value), and still valued for its pleasant scent and its high value as a bee plant, which is shown by its old Greek and Latin names, Melissa, Mellissophyllum, and Apiastrum. The Bastard Balm (_Melittis melissophyllum_) is a handsome native plant, found sparingly in Devonshire, Hampshire, and a few other places, and is well worth growing wherever it can be induced to grow; but it is a very capricious plant, and is apparently not fond of garden cultivation. "Très jolie plante, mais d'une culture difficile" (Vilmorin). It probably would thrive best in the shade, as it is found in copses.

BARLEY.

(1) _Iris._

Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of Wheat, Rye, Barley, Vetches, Oats, and Pease.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (60).

(2) _Constable._

Can sodden water, A drench for surrein'd jades, their Barley broth, Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?

_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 5 (18).[30:1]

These two passages require little note. The Barley (_Hordeum vulgare_) of Shakespeare's time and our own is the same. We may note, however, that the Barley broth (2) of which the French Constable spoke so contemptuously as the food of English soldiers was probably beer, which long before the time of Henry V. was so celebrated that it gave its name to the plant (Barley being simply the Beer-plant), and in Shakespeare's time, "though strangers never heard of such a word or such a thing, by reason it is not everyewhere made," yet "our London Beere-Brewers would scorne to learne to make beere of either French or Dutch" (Gerard).

FOOTNOTES:

[30:1] "Vires ordea prestant."--_Modus Cenandi_, 176. ("Babee's Book.")

BARNACLES.

_Caliban._

We shall lose our time And all be turn'd to Barnacles.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (248).

It may seem absurd to include Barnacles among plants; but in the time of Shakespeare the Barnacle tree was firmly believed in, and Gerard gives a plate of "the Goose tree, Barnacle tree, or the tree bearing Geese," and says that he declares "what our eies have seene, and our hands have touched."

A full account of the fable will be found in Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 247, and an excellent account in Lee's "Sea Fables Explained" (Fisheries Exhibition handbooks), p. 98. But neither of these writers have quoted the testimony of Sir John Mandeville, which is, however, well worth notice. When he was told in "Caldilhe" of a tree that bore "a lytylle Best in Flessche in Bon and Blode as though it were a lytylle Lomb, withouten Wolle," he did not refuse to believe them, for he says, "I tolde hem of als gret a marveylle to hem that is amonges us; and that was of the Bernakes. For I tolde hem, that in our Contree weren Trees, that beren a Fruyt, that becomen Briddes fleeynge; and tho that fallen in the Water lyven, and thei that fallen on the Erthe dyen anon; and thei ben right gode to mannes mete. And here of had thei als gret marvaylle that sume of hem trowed, it were an impossible thing to be" ("Voiage and Travaille," c. xxvi.).

BAY TREES.

(1) _Captain._

'Tis thought the King is dead; we will not stay. The Bay-trees in our country are all wither'd.

_Richard II_, act ii, sc. 4 (7).

(2) _Bawd._

Marry come up, my dish of chastity with Rosemary and Bays!

_Pericles_, act iv, sc. 6 (159).

(3)

_The Vision_--Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of Bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of Bays or Palms in their hands.

_Henry VIII_, act iv, sc. 2

It is not easy to determine what tree is meant in these passages. In the first there is little doubt that Shakespeare copied from some Italian source the superstition that the Bay trees in a country withered and died when any great calamity was approaching. We have no proof that such an idea ever prevailed in England. In the second passage reference is made to the decking of the chief dish at high feasts with garlands of flowers and evergreens. But the Bay tree had been too recently introduced from the South of Europe in Shakespeare's time to be so used to any great extent, though the tree was known long before, for it is mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Vocabularies by the name of Beay-beam, that is, the Coronet tree;[32:1] but whether the Beay-beam meant our Bay tree is very uncertain. We are not much helped in the inquiry by the notice of the "flourishing green Bay tree" in the Psalms, for it seems very certain that the Bay tree there mentioned is either the Oleander or the Cedar, certainly not the Laurus nobilis.

The true Bay is probably mentioned by Spenser in the following lines--

"The Bay, quoth she, is of the victours born, Yielded them by the vanquisht as theyr meeds, And they therewith doe Poetes heads adorne To sing the glory of their famous deeds."

_Amoretti_--Sonnet xxix.

And in the following passage (written in the lifetime of Shakespeare) the Laurel and the Bay are both named as the same tree--

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

_Christopher Brooke_--_Introd. verses to_ BROWNE'S _Pastorals._

In the present day no garden of shrubs can be considered complete without the Bay tree, both the common one and especially the Californian Bay (_Oreodaphne Californica_), which, with its bright green lanceolate foliage and powerful aromatic scent (to some too pungent), deserves a place everywhere, and it is not so liable to be cut by the spring winds as the European Bay.[32:2] Parkinson's high praise of the Bay tree (forty years after Shakespeare's death) is too long for insertion, but two short sentences may be quoted: "The Bay leaves are of as necessary use as any other in the garden or orchard, for they serve both for pleasure and profit, both for ornament and for use, both for honest civil uses and for physic, yea, both for the sick and for the sound, both for the living and for the dead; . . . so that from the cradle to the grave we have still use of it, we have still need of it."

The Bay tree gives us a curious instance of the capriciousness of English plant names. Though a true Laurel it does not bear the name, which yet is given to two trees, the common (and Portugal) Laurel, and the Laurestinus, neither of which are Laurels--the one being a Cherry or Plum (_Prunus_ or _Cerasus_), the other a Guelder Rose (_Viburnum_).[33:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[32:1] "The Anglo-Saxon Beay was not a ring only, or an armlet: it was also a coronet or diadem. . . . The Bays, then, of our Poets and the Bay tree were in reality the Coronet and the Coronet tree."--COCKAYNE, _Spoon and Sparrow_, p. 21.

[32:2] The Californian Bay has not been established in England long enough to form a timber tree, but in America it is highly prized as one of the very best trees for cabinet work, especially for the ornamental parts of pianos.

[33:1] For an interesting account of the Bay and the Laurels, giving the history of the names, &c., see two papers by Mr. H. Evershed in "Gardener's Chronicle," September, 1876.

BEANS.

(1) _Puck._

When I a fat and Bean-fed horse beguile.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (45).

(2) _Carrier._

Peas and Beans are as dank here as a dog; and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 1 (9).

The Bean (_Faba vulgaris_), though an Eastern plant, was very early introduced into England as an article of food both for men and horses. As an article of human food opinions were divided, as now. By some it was highly esteemed--

"Corpus alit Faba; stringit cum cortice ventrem, Desiccat fleuma, stomacum lumenque relidit"--

is the description of the Bean in the "Modus Cenandi," l. 182 ("Babee's Book," ii, 48). While H. Vaughan describes it as--

"The Bean By curious pallats never sought;"

and it was very generally used as a proverb of contempt--

"None other lif, sayd he, is worth a Bene."[34:1]

"But natheles I reche not a Bene."[34:2]

It is not apparently a romantic plant, and yet there is no plant round which so much curious folk lore has gathered. This may be seen at full length in Phillips' "History of Cultivated Vegetables." It will be enough here to say that the Bean was considered as a sacred plant both by the Greeks and Romans, while by the Egyptian priests it was considered too unclean to be even looked upon; that it was used both for its convenient shape and for its sacred associations in all elections by ballot; that this custom lasted in England and in most Europeans countries to a very recent date in the election of the kings and queens at Twelfth Night and other feasts; and that it was of great repute in all popular divinations and love charms. I find in Miller another use of Beans, which we are thankful to note among the obsolete uses: "They are bought up in great quantities at Bristol for Guinea ships, as food for the negroes on their passage from Africa to the West Indies."

As an ornamental garden plant the Bean has never received the attention it seems to deserve. A plant of Broad Beans grown singly is quite a stately plant, and the rich scent is an additional attraction to many, though to many others it is too strong, and it has a bad character--"Sleep in a Bean-field all night if you want to have awful dreams or go crazy," is a Leicestershire proverb:[34:3] and the Scarlet Runner (which is also a Bean) is one of the most beautiful climbers we have. In England we seldom grow it for ornament, but in France I have seen it used with excellent effect to cover a trellis-screen, mixed with the large blue Convolvulus major.

FOOTNOTES:

[34:1] Chaucer, "The Marchandes Tale," 19.

[34:2] Ibid., "The Man of Lawes Tale," prologue.

[34:3] Copied from the mediæval proverb: "Cum faba florescit, stultorum copia crescit."

BILBERRY.

_Pistol._

Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths unswept, There pinch the maids as blue as Bilberry-- Our radiant Queen hates sluts and sluttery.

_Merry Wives_, act v, sc. 5 (48).

The Bilberry is a common British shrub found on all mossy heaths, and very pretty both in flower and in fruit. Its older English name was Heathberry, and its botanical name is Vaccinium myrtillus. We have in Britain four species of Vaccinium: the Whortleberry or Bilberry (_V. myrtillus_), the Large Bilberry (_V. uliginosum_), the Crowberry (_V. vitis idæa_), and the Cranberry (_V. oxycoccos_). These British species, as well as the North American species (of which there are several), are all beautiful little shrubs in cultivation, but they are very difficult to grow; they require a heathy soil, moisture, and partial shade.

BIRCH.

_Duke._

Fond fathers, Having bound up the threatening twigs of Birch, Only to stick it in their children's sight For terror, not to use, in time the rod Becomes more mock'd than fear'd.

_Measure for Measure_, act i, sc. 3 (23).

Shakespeare only mentions this one unpleasant use of the Birch tree, the manufacture of Birch rods; and for such it seems to have been chiefly valued in his day. "I have not red of any vertue it hath in physick," says Turner; "howbeit, it serveth for many good uses, and for none better than for betynge of stubborn boys, that either lye or will not learn." Yet the Birch is not without interest. The word "Birch" is the same as "bark," meaning first the rind of a tree and then a barque or boat (from which we also get our word "barge"), and so the very name carries us to those early times when the Birch was considered one of the most useful of trees, as it still is in most northern countries, where it grows at a higher degree of latitude than any other tree. Its bark was especially useful, being useful for cordage, and matting, and roofing, while the tree itself formed the early British canoes, as it still forms the canoes of the North American Indians, for which it is well suited, from its lightness and ease in working.

In Northern Europe it is the most universal and the most useful of trees. It is "the superlative tree in respect of the ground it covers, and in the variety of purposes to which it is converted in Lapland, where the natives sit in birchen huts on birchen chairs, wearing birchen boots and breeches, with caps and capes of the same material, warming themselves by fires of birchwood charcoal, reading books bound in birch, and eating herrings from a birchen platter, pickled in a birchen cask. Their baskets, boats, harness, and utensils are all of Birch; in short, from cradle to coffin, the Birch forms the peculiar environment of the Laplander."[36:1] In England we still admire its graceful beauty, whether it grows in our woods or our gardens, and we welcome its pleasant odour on our Russia leather bound books; but we have ceased to make beer from its young shoots,[36:2] and we hold it in almost as low repute (from the utilitarian point of view) as Turner and Shakespeare seem to have held it.

FOOTNOTES:

[36:1] "Gardener's Chronicle."

[36:2] "Although beer is now seldom made from birchen twigs, yet it is by no means an uncommon practice in some country districts to tap the white trunks of Birches, and collect the sweet sap which exudes from them for wine-making purposes. In some parts of Leicestershire this sap is collected in large quantities every spring, and birch wine, when well made, is a wholesome and by no means an unpleasant beverage."--B. in _The Garden_, April, 1877. "The Finlanders substitute the leaves of Birch for those of the tea-plant; the Swedes extract a syrup from the sap, from which they make a spirituous liquor. In London they make champagne of it. The most virtuous uses to which it is applied are brooms and wooden shoes."--_A Tour Round My Garden_, Letter xix.

BITTER-SWEET, _see_ APPLE (22).

BLACKBERRIES.

(1) _Falstaff._

Give you a reason on compulsion!--if reasons were as plentiful as Blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.[37:1]

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (263).

(2) _Falstaff._

Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat Blackberries?

_Ibid._ (450).

(3) _Thersites._

That same dog-fox Ulysses is not proved worth a Blackberry.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act v, sc. 4 (12).

(4) _Rosalind._

There is a man . . . . hangs odes upon Hawthorns and elegies on Brambles.

_As You Like it_, act iii, sc. 2 (379).

(5)

The thorny Brambles and embracing bushes, As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.

_Venus and Adonis_ (629).

I here join together the tree and the fruit, the Bramble (_Rubus fruticosus_) and the Blackberry. There is not much to be said for a plant that is the proverbial type of a barren country or untidy cultivation, yet the Bramble and the Blackberry have their charms, and we could ill afford to lose them from our hedgerows. The name Bramble originally meant anything thorny, and Chaucer applied it to the Dog Rose--

"He was chaste and no lechour, And sweet as is the Bramble flower That bereth the red hepe."

But in Shakespeare's time it was evidently confined to the Blackberry-bearing Bramble.

There is a quaint legend of the origin of the plant which is worth repeating. It is thus pleasantly told by Waterton: "The cormorant was once a wool merchant. He entered into partnership with the Bramble and the bat, and they freighted a large ship with wool; she was wrecked, and the firm became bankrupt. Since that disaster the bat skulks about till midnight to avoid his creditors, the cormorant is for ever diving into the deep to discover its foundered vessel, while the Bramble seizes hold of every passing sheep to make up his loss by stealing the wool."

As a garden plant, the common Bramble had better be kept out of the garden, but there are double pink and white-blossomed varieties, and others with variegated leaves, that are handsome plants on rough rockwork. The little Rubus saxatilis is a small British Bramble that is pretty on rockwork, and among the foreign Brambles there are some that should on no account be omitted where ornamental shrubs are grown. Such are the R. leucodermis from Nepaul, with its bright silvery bark and amber-coloured fruit; R. Nootkanus, with very handsome foliage, and pure white rose-like flowers; R. Arcticus, an excellent rockwork plant from Northern Europe, with very pleasant fruit, but difficult to establish; R. Australis (from New Zealand), a most quaint plant, with leaves so depauperated that it is apparently leafless, and hardy in the South of England; and R. deliciosus, a very handsome plant from the Rocky Mountains. There are several others well worth growing, but I mention these few to show that the Bramble is not altogether such a villainous and useless weed as it is proverbially supposed to be.

FOOTNOTES:

[37:1] _See_ RAISINS, p. 238.

BOX.

_Maria._ Get ye all three into the Box tree.

_Twelfth Night_, act ii, sc. 5 (18).

The Box is a native British tree, and in the sixteenth century was probably much more abundant as a wild tree than it is now. Chaucer notes it as a dismal tree. He describes Palamon in his misery as--

"Like was he to byholde, The Boxe tree or the Asschen deed and colde."

_The Knightes Tale._

Spenser noted it as "The Box yet mindful of his olde offence," and in Shakespeare's time there were probably more woods of Box in England than the two which still remain at Box Hill, in Surrey, and Boxwell, in Gloucestershire. The name remains, though the trees are gone, in Box in Wilts, Boxgrove, Boxley, Boxmoor, Boxted, and Boxworth.[39:1] From its wild quarters the Box tree was very early brought into gardens, and was especially valued, not only for its rich evergreen colour, but because, with the Yew, it could be cut and tortured into all the ungainly shapes which so delighted our ancestors in Shakespeare's time, though one of the most illustrious of them, Lord Bacon, entered his protest against such barbarisms: "I, for my part, do not like images cut out in Juniper or other garden stuff; they be for children" ("Essay of Gardens").

The chief use of the Box now is for blocks for wood-carving, for which its close grain makes it the most suitable of all woods.[39:2]

FOOTNOTES:

[39:1] In Boxford, and perhaps in some of the other names, the word has no connection with the tree, but marks the presence of water or a stream.

[39:2] In some parts of Europe almost a sacred character is given to the Box. For a curious record of blessing the Box, and of a sermon on the lessons taught by the Box, see "Gardener's Chronicle," April 19, 1873.

BRAMBLE, _see_ BLACKBERRIES.

BRIER.

(1) _Ariel._

So I charm'd their ears, That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through Tooth'd Briers, sharp Furzes, pricking Goss, and Thorns.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (178).

(2) _Fairy._

Over hill, over dale, Thorough Bush, thorough Brier.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (2).

(3) _Thisbe._

Of colour like the red Rose on triumphant Brier.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1 (90).

(4) _Puck._

I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through Brake, through Brier.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 1 (10).

(5) _Puck._

For Briers and Thorns at their apparel snatch.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 2 (29).

(6) _Hermia._

Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew and torn with Briers.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 2 (443).

(7) _Oberon._

Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from Brier.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 1 (400).

(8) _Adriana._

If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping Ivy, Brier, or idle Moss.

_Comedy of Errors_, act ii, sc. 2 (179).

(9) _Plantagenet._

From off this Brier pluck a white Rose with me.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (30).

(10) _Rosalind._

O! how full of Briers is this working-day world!

_As You Like It_, act i, sc. 3 (12).

(11) _Helena._

The time will bring on summer, When Briers shall have leaves as well as Thorns, And be as sweet as sharp.

_All's Well_, act iv, sc. 4 (32).

(12) _Polyxenes._

I'll have thy beauty scratched with Briers.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4 (436).

(13) _Timon._

The Oaks bear mast, the Briers scarlet hips.

_Timon of Athens_, act iv, sc. 3 (422).

(14) _Coriolanus._

Scratches with Briers, Scars to move laughter only.

_Coriolanus_, act iii, sc. 3 (51).

(15) _Quintus._

What subtle hole is this, Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing Briers?

_Titus Andronicus_, act iii, sc. 3 (198).

In Shakespeare's time the "Brier" was not restricted to the Sweet Briar, as it usually is now; but it meant any sort of wild Rose, and even it would seem from No. 9 that it was applied to the cultivated Rose, for there the scene is laid in the Temple Gardens. In some of the passages it probably does not allude to any Rose, but simply to any wild thorny plant. That this was its common use then, we know from many examples. In "Le Morte Arthur," the Earl of Ascolot's daughter is described--

"Hyr Rode was rede as blossom or Brere Or floure that springith in the felde" (179).

And in "A Pleasant New Court Song," in the Roxburghe Ballads--

"I stept me close aside Under a Hawthorn Bryer."

It bears the same meaning in our Bibles, where "Thorns," "Brambles," and "Briers," stand for any thorny and useless plant, the soil of Palestine being especially productive of thorny plants of many kinds. Wickliffe's translation of Matthew vii. 16, is--"Whether men gaderen grapis of thornes; or figis of Breris?" and Tyndale's translation is much the same--"Do men gaddre grapes of thornes, or figges of Bryeres?"[41:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[41:1] "Brere--Carduus, tribulus, vepres, veprecula."--_Catholicon Anglicum._

BROOM.

(1) _Iris._

And thy Broom groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (66).

(2) _Puck._

I am sent with Broom before To sweep the dust behind the door.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act v, sc. 1 (396).

(3) _Man._

I made good my place; at length they came to the Broomstaff with me.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 4 (56).

The Broom was one of the most popular plants of the Middle Ages. Its modern Latin name is _Cytisus scoparius_, but under its then Latin name of _Planta genista_ it gave its name to the Plantagenet family, either in the time of Henry II., as generally reported, or probably still earlier. As the favourite badge of the family it appears on their monuments and portraits, and was embroidered on their clothes and imitated in their jewels. Nor was it only in England that the plant was held in such high favour; it was the special flower of the Scotch, and it was highly esteemed in many countries on the Continent, especially in Brittany. Yet, in spite of all this, there are only these three notices of the plant in Shakespeare, and of those three, two (2 and 3) refer to its uses when dead; and the third (1), though it speaks of it as living, yet has nothing to say of the remarkable beauties of this favourite British flower. Yet it has great beauties which cannot easily be overlooked. Its large, yellow flowers, its graceful habit of growth, and its fragrance--

"Sweet is the Broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough"--

SPENSER, _Sonnet_ xxvi.

at once arrest the attention of the most careless observer of Nature. We are almost driven to the conclusion that Shakespeare could not have had much real acquaintance with the Broom, or he would not have sent his "dismissed bachelor" to "Broom-groves."[42:1] I should very much doubt that the Broom could ever attain to the dimensions of a grove, though Steevens has a note on the passage that "near Gamlingay, in Cambridgeshire, it grows high enough to conceal the tallest cattle as they pass through it; and in places where it is cultivated still higher." Chaucer speaks of the Broom, but does not make it so much of a tree--

"Amid the Broom he basked in the sun."

And other poets have spoken of the Broom in the same way--thus Collins--

"When Dan Sol to slope his wheels began Amid the Broom he basked him on the ground."

_Castle of Indolence_, canto i.

And a Russian poet speaks of the Broom as a tree--

"See there upon the Broom tree's bough The young grey eagle flapping now."

_Flora Domestica_, p. 68.

As a garden plant it is perhaps seen to best advantage when mixed with other shrubs, as when grown quite by itself it often has an untidy look. There is a pure white variety which is very beautiful, but it is very liable to flower so abundantly as to flower itself to death. There are a few other sorts, but none more beautiful than the British.

FOOTNOTES:

[42:1] Yet Bromsgrove must be a corruption of Broom-grove, and there are other places in England named from the Broom.

BULRUSH.

_Wooer._

Her careless tresses A wreake of Bulrush rounded.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act iv, sc. 1 (104).

_See_ RUSH, p. 262.

BURDOCK AND BURS.

(1) _Celia._

They are but Burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths our very petticoats will catch them.

_Rosalind._

I could shake them off my coat; these Burs are in my heart.

_As You Like It_, act i, sc. 3 (13).

(2) _Lucio._

Nay, friar, I am a kind of Bur; I shall stick.

_Measure for Measure_, act iv, sc. 3 (149).

(3) _Lysander._

Hang oft, thou cat, thou Burr.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 2 (260).

(4) _Pandarus._

They are Burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are thrown.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act iii, sc. 2 (118).

(5) _Burgundy._

And nothing teems But hateful Docks, rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burs.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (51).

(6) _Cordelia._

Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds, With Burdocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers.

_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 4 (3).

The Burs are the unopened flowers of the Burdock (_Arctium lappa_), and their clinging quality very early obtained for them expressive names, such as _amor folia_, love leaves, and philantropium. This clinging quality arises from the bracts of the involucrum being long and stiff, and with hooked tips which attach themselves to every passing object. The Burdock is a very handsome plant when seen in its native habitat by the side of a brook, its broad leaves being most picturesque, but it is not a plant to introduce into a garden.[44:1] There is another tribe of plants, however, which are sufficiently ornamental to merit a place in the garden, and whose Burs are even more clinging than those of the Burdock. These are the Acænas; they are mostly natives of America and New Zealand, and some of them (especially A. sarmentosa and A. microphylla) form excellent carpet plants, but their points being furnished with double hooks, like a double-barbed arrow, they have double powers of clinging.

BURNET.

_Burgundy._

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and green Clover.

_Henry V._ act v, sc. 2 (48).

The Burnet (_Poterium sanguisorba_) is a native plant of no great beauty or horticultural interest, but it was valued as a good salad plant, the leaves tasting of Cucumber, and Lord Bacon (contemporary with Shakespeare) seems to have been especially fond of it. He says ("Essay of Gardens"):

"Those flowers which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three--that is, Burnet, Wild Thyme, and Water Mints; therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread." Drayton had the same affection for it--

"The Burnet shall bear up with this, Whose leaf I greatly fancy."

_Nymphal V._

It also was, and still is, valued as a forage plant that will grow and keep fresh all the winter in dry barren pastures, thus often giving food for sheep when other food was scarce. It has occasionally been cultivated, but the result has not been very satisfactory, except on very poor land, though, according to the Woburn experiments, as reported by Sinclair, it contains a larger amount of nutritive matter in the spring than most of the Grasses. It has brown flowers, from which it is supposed to derive its name (Brunetto).[45:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[44:1]

"A Clote-leef he had under his hood For swoot, and to keep his heed from hete."

CHAUCER, _Prologue of the Chanounes Yeman_ (25).

This Clote leaf is by many considered to be the Burdock leaf, but it was more probably the name of the Water-lily.

[45:1] "Burnet colowre, Burnetum, burnetus."--_Promptorium Parvulorum._

CABBAGE.

_Evans._

_Pauca verba_, Sir John; good worts.

_Falstaff._

Good worts! good Cabbage.

_Merry Wives_, act i, sc. 1 (123).

The history of the name is rather curious. It comes to us from the French _Chou cabus_, which is the French corruption of _Caulis capitatus_, the name by which Pliny described it.

The Cabbage of Shakespeare's time was essentially the same as ours, and from the contemporary accounts it seems that the sorts cultivated were as good and as numerous as they are now. The cultivated Cabbage is the same specifically as the wild Cabbage of our sea-shores (_Brassica oleracea_) improved by cultivation. Within the last few years the Cabbage has been brought from the kitchen garden into the flower garden on account of the beautiful variegation of its leaves. This, however, is no novelty, for Parkinson said of the many sorts of Cabbage in his day: "There is greater diversity in the form and colour of the leaves of this plant than there is in any other that I know groweth on the ground. . . . Many of them being of no use with us for the table, but for delight to behold the wonderful variety of the works of God herein."

CAMOMILE.

_Falstaff._

Though the Camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (443).

The low-growing Camomile, the emblem of the sweetness of humility, has the lofty names of Camomile (_Chamæmelum_, _i.e._, Apple of the Earth) and Anthemis nobilis. Its fine aromatic scent and bitter flavour suggested that it must be possessed of much medicinal virtue, while its low growth made it suitable for planting on the edges of flower-beds and paths, its scent being brought out as it was walked upon. For this purpose it was much used in Elizabethan gardens; "large walks, broad and long, close and open, like the Tempe groves in Thessaly, raised with gravel and sand, having seats and banks of Camomile; all this delights the mind, and brings health to the body."[46:1] As a garden flower it is now little used, though its bright starry flower and fine scent might recommend it; but it is still to be found in herb gardens, and is still, though not so much as formerly, used as a medicine.

Like many other low plants, the Camomile is improved by being pressed into the earth by rolling or otherwise, and there are many allusions to this in the old writers: thus Lily in his "Euphues" says: "The Camomile the more it is trodden and pressed down, the more it spreadeth;" and in the play, "The More the Merrier" (1608), we have--

"The Camomile shall teach thee patience Which riseth best when trodden most upon."

FOOTNOTES:

[46:1] Lawson, "New Orchard," p. 54.

CARDUUS, _see_ HOLY THISTLE.

CARNATIONS.

(1) _Perdita._

The fairest flowers o' the season Are our Carnations and streak'd Gillyvors, Which some call Nature's bastards.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4 (81).

(2) _Polyxenes._

Then make your garden rich in Gillyvors, And do not call them bastards.

_Ibid._ (98).

There are two other places in which Carnation is mentioned, but they refer to carnation colour--_i.e._, to pure flesh colour.

(3) _Quickly._

'A could never abide Carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked.

_Henry V_, act ii, sc. 3 (35).

(4) _Costard._

Pray you, sir, how much Carnation riband may a man buy for a remuneration?

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iii, sc. 1 (146).

Dr. Johnson and others have supposed that the flower is so named from the colour, but that this is a mistake is made very clear by Dr. Prior. He quotes Spenser's "Shepherd's Calendar"--

"Bring Coronations and Sops-in-Wine Worn of Paramours."

and so it is spelled in Lyte's "Herbal," 1578, coronations or cornations. This takes us at once to the origin of the name. The plant was one of those used in garlands (_coronæ_), and was probably one of the most favourite plants used for that purpose, for which it was well suited by its shape and beauty. Pliny gives a long list of garland flowers (_Coronamentorum genera_) used by the Romans and Athenians, and Nicander gives similar lists of Greek garland plants (+stephanômatika anthê+), in which the Carnation holds so high a place that it was called by the name it still has--Dianthus, or Flower of Jove.

Its second specific name, Caryophyllus--_i.e._, Nut-leaved--seems at first very inappropriate for a grassy leaved plant, but the name was first given to the Indian Clove-tree, and from it transferred to the Carnation, on account of its fine clove-like scent. Its popularity as an English plant is shown by its many names--Pink, Carnation, Gilliflower[48:1] (an easily-traced and well-ascertained corruption from Caryophyllus), Clove, Picotee,[48:2] and Sops-in-Wine, from the flowers being used to flavour wine and beer.[48:3] There is an historical interest also in the flowers. All our Carnations, Picotees, and Cloves come originally from the single Dianthus caryophyllus; this is not a true British plant, but it holds a place in the English flora, being naturalized on Rochester and other castles. It is abundant in Normandy, and I found it (in 1874) covering the old castle of Falaise in which William the Conqueror was born. Since that I have found that it grows on the old castles of Dover, Deal, and Cardiff, all of them of Norman construction, as was Rochester, which was built by Gundulf, the special friend of William. Its occurrence on these several Norman castles make it very possible that it was introduced by the Norman builders, perhaps as a pleasant memory of their Norman homes, though it may have been accidentally introduced with the Normandy (Caen) stone, of which parts of the castles are built. How soon it became a florist's flower we do not know, but it must have been early, as in Shakespeare's time the sorts of Cloves, Carnations, and Pinks were so many that Gerard says: "A great and large volume would not suffice to write of every one at large in particular, considering how infinite they are, and how every yeare, every clymate and countrey, bringeth forth new sorts, and such as have not heretofore bin written of;" and so we may certainly say now--the description of the many kinds of Carnations and Picotees, with directions for their culture, would fill a volume.

FOOTNOTES:

[48:1] This is the more modern way of spelling it. In the first folio it is "Gillyvor." "Chaucer writes it Gylofre, but by associating it with the the Nutmeg and other spices, appears to mean the Clove Tree, which is, in fact, the proper signification."--_Flora Domestica._ In the "Digby Mysteries" (Mary Magdalene, l. 1363) the Virgin Mary is addressed as "the Jentyll Jelopher."

[48:2] Picotee is from the French word _picoté_ marked with little pricks round the edge, like the "picots," on lace, _picot_ being the technical term in France for the small twirls which in England are called "purl" or "pearl."

[48:3] Wine thus flavoured was evidently a very favourite beverage. "Bartholemeus Peytevyn tenet duas Caracutas terræ in Stony-Aston in Com. Somerset de Domino Rege in capite per servitium unius[48:a] Sextarii vini Gariophilati reddendi Domino Regi per annum ad Natale Domini. Et valet dicta terra per ann. _xl._"

[48:a] "A Sextary of July-flower wine, and a Sextary contained about a pint and a half, sometimes more."--BLOUNT'S _Antient Tenures_.

CARRAWAYS.

_Shallow._

Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour we will eat a last year's Pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of Caraways and so forth.

_2nd Henry IV_, act v, sc. 3 (1).

Carraways are the fruit of Carum carui, an umbelliferous plant of a large geographical range, cultivated in the eastern counties, and apparently wild in other parts of England, but not considered a true native. In Shakespeare's time the seed was very popular, and was much more freely used than in our day. "The seed," says Parkinson, "is much used to be put among baked fruit, or into bread, cakes, &c., to give them a rellish. It is also made into comfits and put into Trageas or (as we call them in English) Dredges, that are taken for cold or wind in the body, as also are served to the table with fruit."

Carraways are frequently mentioned in the old writers as an accompaniment to Apples. In a very interesting bill of fare of 1626, extracted from the account book of Sir Edward Dering, is the following--

"Carowaye and comfites, 6d.

A Warden py that the cooke Made--we fining y{e} Wardens. 2s. 4d.

Second Course.

A cold Warden pie.

Complement. Apples and Carrawayes."--_Notes and Queries_, i, 99.

So in Russell's "Book of Nurture:" "After mete . . . pepyns Careaway in comfyte," line 78, and the same in line 714; and in Wynkyn de Worde's "Boke of Kervynge" ("Babee's Book," p. 266 and 271), and in F. Seager's "Schoole of Vertue" ("Babee's Book," p. 343)--

"Then cheese with fruite On the table set, With Bisketes or Carowayes As you may get."

The custom of serving roast Apples with a little saucerful of Carraway is still kept up at Trinity College, Cambridge, and, I believe, at some of the London Livery dinners.

CARROT.

_Evans._

Remember, William, focative is _caret_,

_Quickly._

And that's a good root.

_Merry Wives_, act iv, sc. 1 (55).

Dame Quickly's pun gives us our Carrot, a plant which, originally derived from our wild Carrot (_Daucus Carota_), was introduced as a useful vegetable by the Flemings in the time of Elizabeth, and has probably been very little altered or improved since the time of its introduction. In Shakespeare's time the name was applied to the "Yellow Carrot" or Parsnep, as well as to the Red one. The name of Carrot comes directly from its Latin or rather Greek name, Daucus Carota, but it once had a prettier name. The Anglo-Saxons called it "bird's-nest," and Gerard gives us the reason, and it is a reason that shows they were more observant of the habits of plants than we generally give them credit for: "The whole tuft (of flowers) is drawn together when the seed is ripe, resembling a bird's nest; whereupon it hath been named of some Bird's-nest."

CEDAR.

(1) _Prospero._

And by the spurs pluck'd up The Pine and Cedar.

_Tempest_, act v, sc. 1 (47).

(2) _Dumain._

As upright as the Cedar.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 3 (89).

(3) _Warwick._

As on a mountain top the Cedar shows, That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm.

_2nd Henry VI_, act v, sc. 1 (205).

(4) _Warwick._

Thus yields the Cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, Whose top-branch o'erpeered Jove's spreading tree, And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.

_3rd Henry VI_, act v, sc. 2 (11).

(5) _Cranmer._

He shall flourish, And, like a mountain Cedar, reach his branches To all the plains about him.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 5 (215).

(6) _Posthumus._

When from a stately Cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive.

_Cymbeline_, act v, sc. 4 (140); and act v, sc. 5 (457).

(7) _Soothsayer._

The lofty Cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee. Thy lopp'd branches . . . . . are now revived, To the majestic Cedar join'd.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 5 (453).

(8) _Gloucester._

But I was born so high, Our aery buildeth in the Cedar's top, And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.

_Richard III_, act i, sc. 3 (263).

(9) _Coriolanus._

Let the mutinous winds Strike the proud Cedars 'gainst the fiery sun.

_Coriolanus_, act v, sc. 3 (59).

(10) _Titus._

Marcus, we are but shrubs, no Cedars we.

_Titus Andronicus_, act iv, sc. 3 (45).

(11) _Daughter._

I have sent him where a Cedar, Higher than all the rest, spreads like a Plane Fast by a brook.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act ii, sc. 6 (4).

(12)

The sun ariseth in his majesty; Who doth the world so gloriously behold That Cedar-tops and hills seem burnished gold.

_Venus and Adonis_ (856).

(13)

The Cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot, But low shrubs wither at the Cedar's root.

_Lucrece_ (664).

The Cedar is the classical type of majesty and grandeur, and superiority to everything that is petty and mean. So Shakespeare uses it, and only in this way; for it is very certain he never saw a living specimen of the Cedar of Lebanon. But many travellers in the East had seen it and minutely described it, and from their descriptions he derived his knowledge of the tree; but not only, and probably not chiefly from travellers, for he was well acquainted with his Bible, and there he would meet with many a passage that dwelt on the glories of the Cedar, and told how it was the king of trees, so that "the Fir trees were not like his boughs, and the Chestnut trees were not like his branches, nor any tree in the garden of God was like unto him in his beauty, fair by the multitude of his branches, so that all the trees of Eden that were in the garden of God envied him" (Ezekiel xxxi. 8, 9). It was such descriptions as these that supplied Shakespeare with his imagery, and which made our ancestors try to introduce the tree into England. But there seems to have been much difficulty in establishing it. Evelyn tried to introduce it, but did not succeed at first, and the tree is not mentioned in his "Sylva" of 1664. It was, however, certainly introduced in 1676, when it appears, from the gardeners' accounts, to have been planted at Bretby Park, Derbyshire ("Gardener's Chronicle," January, 1877). I believe this is the oldest certain record of the planting of the Cedar in England, the next oldest being the trees in Chelsea Botanic Gardens, which were certainly planted in 1683. Since that time the tree has proved so suitable to the English soil that it is grown everywhere, and everywhere asserts itself as the king of evergreen trees, whether grown as a single tree on a lawn, or mixed in large numbers with other trees, as at Highclere Park, in Hampshire (Lord Carnarvon's). Among English Cedar trees there are probably none that surpass the fine specimens at Warwick Castle, which owe, however, much of their beauty to their position on the narrow strip of land between the Castle and the river. I mention these to call attention to the pleasant coincidence (for it is nothing more) that the most striking descriptions of the Cedar are given by Shakespeare to the then owner of the princely Castle of Warwick (Nos. 3 and 4).

The mediæval belief about the Cedar was that its wood was imperishable. "Hæc Cedrus, A{e} sydyretre, et est talis nature quod nunquam putrescet in aqua nec in terra" (English Vocabulary--15th cent.); but as a timber tree the English-grown Cedar has not answered to its old reputation, so that Dr. Lindley called it "the worthless though magnificent Cedar of Lebanon."

CHERRY.

(1) _Helena._

So we grew together, Like to a double Cherry, seeming parted, But yet a union in partition; Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 2 (208).

(2) _Demetrius._

O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing Cherries, tempting grow!

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 2 (139).

(3) _Constance._

And it' grandam will Give it a Plum, a Cherry, and a Fig.

_King John_, act ii, sc. 1 (161).

(4) _Lady._

'Tis as like you As Cherry is to Cherry.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 1 (170).

(5) _Gower._

She with her neeld composes Nature's own shape of bud, bird, branch, or berry; That even her art sisters the natural Roses, Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied Cherry.

_Pericles_, act v, chorus (5).

(6) _Dromio of Syracuse._

Some devils ask but the paring of one's nail, A Rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, A Nut, a Cherry-stone.

_Comedy of Errors_, act iv, sc. 3 (72).

(7) _Queen._

Oh, when The twyning Cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tasteful lips.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act i, sc. 1 (198).

(8)

When he was by, the birds such pleasure took, That some would sing, some other in their bills Would bring him Mulberries and ripe-red Cherries. He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.

_Venus and Adonis_ (1101).

Besides these, there is mention of "cherry lips"[54:1] and "cherry-nose,"[54:2] and the game of "cherry-pit."[54:3] We have the authority of Pliny that the Cherry (_Prunus Cerasus_) was introduced into Italy from Pontus, and by the Romans was introduced into Britain. It is not, then, a true native, but it has now become completely naturalized in our woods and hedgerows, while the cultivated trees are everywhere favourites for the beauty of their flowers, and their rich and handsome fruit. In Shakespeare's time there were almost as many, and probably as good varieties, as there are now.

FOOTNOTES:

[54:1] _Midsummer Night's Dream_, act v, sc. 1; _Richard III_, act i, sc. 1; _Two Noble Kinsmen_, act iv, sc. 1.

[54:2] _Midsummer Night's Dream_, act v, sc. 1.

[54:3] _Twelfth Night_, act iii, sc. 4.

CHESTNUTS.

(1) _Witch._

A sailor's wife had Chestnuts in her lap, And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd.

_Macbeth_, act i, sc. 3 (4).

(2) _Petruchio._

And do you tell me of a woman's tongue That gives not half so great a blow to hear As will a Chestnut in farmer's fire?

_Taming of the Shrew_, act i, sc. 2 (208).

(3) _Rosalind._

I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.

_Celia._

An excellent colour; your Chestnut was ever the only colour.

_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 4 (11).

This is the Spanish or Sweet Chestnut, a fruit which seems to have been held in high esteem in Shakespeare's time, for Lyte, in 1578, says of it, "Amongst all kindes of wilde fruites the Chestnut is best and meetest for to be eaten." The tree cannot be regarded as a true native, but it has been so long introduced, probably by the Romans, that grand specimens are to be found in all parts of England; the oldest known specimen being at Tortworth, in Gloucestershire, which was spoken of as an old tree in the time of King Stephen; while the tree that is said to be the oldest and the largest in Europe is the Spanish Chestnut tree on Mount Etna, the famous Castagni du Centu Cavalli, which measures near the root 160 feet in circumference. It is one of our handsomest trees, and very useful for timber, and at one time it was supposed that many of our oldest buildings were roofed with Chestnut. This was the current report of the grand roof at Westminster Hall, but it is now discovered to be of Oak, and it is very doubtful whether the Chestnut timber is as lasting as it has long been supposed to be.

The Horse Chestnut was probably unknown to Shakespeare. It is an Eastern tree, and in no way related to the true Chestnut, and though the name has probably no connection with horses or their food, yet it is curious that the petiole has (especially when dry) a marked resemblance to a horse's leg and foot, and that both on the parent stem and the petiole may be found a very correct representation of a horseshoe with its nails.[55:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[55:1] For an excellent description of the great differences between the Spanish and Horse Chestnut, see "Gardener's Chronicle," Oct. 29, 1881.

CLOVER.

(1) _Burgundy._

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and green Clover.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (48).

(2) _Tamora._

I will enchant the old Andronicus With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous, Than baits to fish, or Honey-stalks to sheep, When, as the one is wounded with the bait, The other rotted with delicious food.

_Titus Andronicus_, act iv, sc. 4 (89).

"Honey-stalks" are supposed to be the flower of the Clover. This seems very probable, but I believe the name is no longer applied. Of the Clover there are two points of interest that are worth notice. The Clover is one of the plants that claim to be the Shamrock of St. Patrick. This is not a settled point, and at the present day the Woodsorrel is supposed to have the better claim to the honour. But it is certain that the Clover is the "clubs" of the pack of cards. "Clover" is a corruption of "Clava," a club. In England we paint the Clover on our cards and call it "clubs," while in France they have the same figure, but call it "trefle."

CLOVES.

_Biron._

A Lemon.

_Longaville._

Stuck with Cloves.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (633).[56:1]

As a mention of a vegetable product, I could not omit this passage, but the reference is only to the imported spice and not to the tree from which then, as now, the Clove was gathered. The Clove of commerce is the unexpanded flower of the Caryophyllus aromaticus, and the history of its discovery and cultivation by the Dutch in Amboyna, with the vain attempts they made to keep the monopoly of the profitable spice, is perhaps the saddest chapter in all the history of commerce. See a full account with description and plate of the plant in "Bot. Mag.," vol. 54, No. 2749.

FOOTNOTES:

[56:1] "But then 'tis as full of drollery as ever it can hold; 'tis like an orange stuck with Cloves as for conceipt."--_The Rehearsal_, 1671,

## act iii, sc. 1.

COCKLE.

(1) _Biron._

Allons! allons! sowed Cockle reap'd no Corn.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 3 (383).

(2) _Coriolanus._

We nourish 'gainst our senate The Cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd, By mingling them with us.

_Coriolanus_, act iii, sc. 1 (69).

In Shakespeare's time the word "Cockle" was becoming restricted to the Corn-cockle (_Lychnis githago_), but both in his time, and certainly in that of the writers before him, it was used generally for any noxious weed that grew in corn-fields, and was usually connected with the Darnel and Tares.[57:1] So Gower--

"To sowe Cockel with the Corn So that the tilthe is nigh forlorn, Which Crist sew first his owne hond-- Now stant the Cockel in the lond Where stood whilom the gode greine, For the prelats now, as men sain, For slouthen that they shoulden tille."

_Confessio Amantis_, lib. quintus (2-190, Paulli).

Latimer has exactly the same idea: "Oh, that our prelates would bee as diligent to sowe the corne of goode doctrine as Sathan is to sow Cockel and Darnel." . . . "There was never such a preacher in England as he (the devil) is. Who is able to tel his dylygent preaching? which every daye and every houre laboreth to sowe Cockel and Darnel" (Latimer's Fourth Sermon). And to the same effect Spenser--

"And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedie crop of care, Which when I thought have thresht in swelling sheave, Cockle for corn, and chaff for barley bare."

The Cockle or Campion is said to do mischief among the Wheat, not only, as the Poppy and other weeds, by occupying room meant for the better plant, but because the seed gets mixed with the corn, and then "what hurt it doth among corne, the spoyle unto bread, as well in colour, taste, and unwholsomness is better known than desired." So says Gerard, but I do not know how far modern experience confirms him. It is a pity the plant has so bad a character, for it is a very handsome weed, with a fine blue flower, and the seeds are very curious objects under the microscope, being described as exactly like a hedgehog rolled up.[58:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[57:1] "Cokylle--quædam aborigo, zazannia."--_Catholicon Anglicum._

[58:1] In Dorsetshire the Cockle is the bur of the Burdock. Barnes' Glossary of Dorset.

COLOQUINTIDA.

_Iago._

The food that to him now is as luscious as Locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as Coloquintida.

_Othello_, act i, sc. 3 (354).

The Coloquintida, or Colocynth, is the dried fleshy part of the fruit of the Cucumis or Citrullus colocynthis. As a drug it was imported in Shakespeare's time and long before, but he may also have known the plant. Gerard seems to have grown it, though from his describing it as a native of the sandy shores of the Mediterranean, he perhaps confused it with the Squirting Cucumber (_Momordica elaterium_). It is a native of Turkey, but has been found also in Japan. It is also found in the East, and we read of it in the history of Elisha: "One went out into the field to gather herbs, and found a wild Vine, and gathered thereof wild Gourds, his lap full."[59:1] It is not quite certain what species of Gourd is here meant, but all the old commentators considered it to be the Colocynth,[59:2] the word "vine" meaning any climbing plant, a meaning that is still in common use in America.

All the tribe of Cucumbers are handsome foliaged plants, but they require room. On the Continent they are much more frequently grown in gardens than in England, but the hardy perennial Cucumber (_Cucumis perennis_) makes a very handsome carpet where the space can be spared, and the Squirting Cucumber (also hardy and perennial) is worth growing for its curious fruit. (_See also_ PUMPION.)

FOOTNOTES:

[59:1] 2 Kings iv. 39.

[59:2] "Invenitque quasi vitem sylvestrem, et collegit ex ea Colocynthidas agri."--_Vulgate._

COLUMBINE.

(1) _Armado._

I am that flower,

_Dumain._

That Mint.

_Longaville._

That Columbine.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (661).

(2) _Ophelia._

There's Fennel for you and Columbines.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 5 (189).

This brings us to one of the most favourite of our old-fashioned English flowers. It is very doubtful whether it is a true native, but from early times it has been "carefully nursed up in our gardens for the delight both of its forme and colours" (Parkinson); yet it had a bad character, as we see from two passages quoted by Steevens--

"What's that--a Columbine? No! that thankless flower grows not in my garden."

_All Fools_, by CHAPMAN, 1605.

and again in the 15th Song of Drayton's "Polyolbion"--

"The Columbine amongst they sparingly do set."

Spenser gave it a better character. Among his "gardyn of sweet floures, that dainty odours from them threw around," he places--

"Her neck lyke to a bounch of Cullambynes."

And, still earlier, Skelton (1463-1529) spoke of it with high praise--

"She is the Vyolet, The Daysy delectable, The Columbine commendable, The Ielofer amyable."--_Phyllip Sparrow._

Both the English and the Latin names are descriptive of the plant. Columbine, or the Dove-plant, calls our attention to the "resemblance of its nectaries to the heads of pigeons in a ring round a dish, a favourite device of ancient artists" (Dr. Prior); or to "the figure of a hovering dove with expanded wings, which we obtain by pulling off a single petal with its attached sepals" (Lady Wilkinson); though it may also have had some reference to the colour, as the word is used by Chaucer--

"Come forth now with thin eyghen Columbine."

_The Marchaundes Tale_ (190).

The Latin name, _Aquilegia_, is generally supposed to come from _aquilegus_, a water-collector, alluding to the water-holding powers of the flower; it may, however, be derived from _aquila_, an eagle, but this seems more doubtful.

As a favourite garden flower, the Columbine found its way into heraldic blazonry. "It occurs in the crest of the old Barons Grey of Vitten, as may be seen in the garter coat of William Grey of Vitten" (Camden Society 1847), and is thus described in the Painter's bill for the ceremonial of the funeral of William Lord Grey of Vitten (MS. Coll. of Arms, i, 13, fol. 35a): "Item, his creste with the favron, or, sette on a leftehande glove, argent, out thereof issuyinge, caste over threade, a braunch of Collobyns, blue, the stalk vert." Old Gwillim also enumerates the Columbine among his "Coronary Herbs," as follows: "He beareth argent, a chevron sable between three Columbines slipped proper, by the name of Hall of Coventry. The Columbine is pleasing to the eye, as well in respect of the seemly (and not vulgar) shape as in regard of the azury colour thereof, and is holden to be very medicinable for the dissolving of imposthumations or swellings in the throat."

As a garden plant the Columbine still holds a favourite place. Hardy, handsome, and easy of cultivation, it commends itself to the most ornamental as well as to the cottage garden, and there are so many different sorts (both species and varieties) that all tastes may be suited. Of the common species (A. vulgaris) there are double and single, blue, white, and red; there is the beautiful dwarf A. Pyrenaica, never exceeding six inches in height, but of a very rich deep blue; there are the red and yellow ones (A. Skinneri and A. formosa) from North America; and, to mention no more, there are the lovely A. coerulea and the grand A. chrysantha from the Rocky Mountains, certainly two of the most desirable acquisitions to our hardy flowers that we have had in late years.

CORK.

(1) _Rosalind._

I prythee take the Cork out of thy mouth, that I may hear thy tidings.

_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 2 (213).

(2) _Clown._

As you'ld thrust a Cork into a hogshead.

_Winter's Tale_, act iii, sc. 3 (95).

(3) _Cornwall._

Bind fast his Corky arms.

_King Lear_, act iii, sc. 7 (28).

It is most probable that Shakespeare had no further acquaintance with the Cork tree than his use of Corks. The living tree was not introduced into England till the latter part of the seventeenth century, yet is very fairly described both by Gerard and Parkinson. The Cork, however, was largely imported, and was especially used for shoes. Not only did "shoemakers put it in shoes and pantofles for warmness sake," but for its lightness it was used for the high-heeled shoes of the fashionable ladies. I suppose from the following lines that these shoes were a distinguishing part of a bride's trousseau--

"Strip off my bride's array, My Cork-shoes from my feet, And, gentle mother, be not coy To bring my winding sheet."

_The Bride's Burial_--Roxburghe Ballads.

The Cork tree is a necessary element in all botanic gardens, but as an ornamental tree it is not sufficiently distinct from the Ilex. Though a native of the South of Europe it is hardy in England.

CORN.

(1) _Gonzalo._

No use of metal, Corn, or wine, or oil.

_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (154).

(2) _Duke._

Our Corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow.

_Measure for Measure_, act iv, sc. 1 (76).

(3) _Titania._

Playing on pipes of Corn, (67)

* * * * *

The green Corn Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (94).

(4) _K. Edward._

What valiant foemen, like to autumn's Corn, Have we mowed down in tops of all their pride!

_3rd Henry VI_, act v, sc. 7 (3).

(5) _Pucelle._

Talk like the vulgar sort of market men That come to gather money for their Corn.

_1st Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (4).

Poor market folks that come to sell their Corn.

_Ibid._ (14).

Good morrow, gallants! want ye Corn for bread?

_Ibid._ (41).

_Burgundy._

I trust, ere long, to choke thee with thine own, And make thee curse the harvest of that Corn.

_Ibid._ (46).

(6) _Duchess._

Why droops my lord like over-ripened Corn Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?

_2nd Henry VI_, act i, sc. 2. (1).

(7) _Warwick._

His well-proportioned beard made rough and ragged Like to the summer's Corn by tempest lodged.

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (175).

(8) _Mowbray._

We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind That even our Corn shall seem as light as chaff.

_2nd Henry IV_, act iv, sc. 1 (194).

(9) _Macbeth._

Though bladed Corn be lodged and trees blown down.

_Macbeth_, act iv, sc. 1 (55).

(10) _Longaville._

He weeds the Corn, and still lets grow the weeding.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act i, sc. 1 (96).

(11) _Biron._

Allons! allons! sowed Cockle reap'd no Corn.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc 3 (383).

(12) _Edgar._

Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the Corn.

_King Lear_, act iii, sc. 6 (43).

(13) _Cordelia._

All the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining Corn.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 4 (6).

(14) _Demetrius._

First thrash the Corn, then after burn the straw.

_Titus Andronicus_, act ii, sc. 3 (123).

(15) _Marcus._

O, let me teach you how to knit again This scattered Corn into one mutual sheaf.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 3 (70).

(16) _Pericles._

Our ships are stored with Corn to make your needy bread.

_Pericles_, act i, sc. 4 (95).

(17) _Cleon._

Your grace that fed my country with your Corn.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 3 (18).

(18) _Menenius._

For Corn at their own rates.

_Coriolanus_, act i, sc. 1 (193).

_Marcus._

The gods sent not Corn for the rich men only.

_Ibid._ (211).

_Marcus._

The Volsces have much Corn.

_Ibid._ (253).

_Citizen._

We stood up about the Corn.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 3 (16).

_Brutus._

Corn was given them gratis.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1 (43).

_Coriolanus._

Tell me of Corn!

_Ibid._ (61).

The Corn of the storehouse gratis.

_Ibid._ (125).

The Corn was not our recompense.

_Ibid._ (120).

This kind of service Did not deserve Corn gratis.

_Coriolanus_, act iii, sc. 1 (124).

(19) _Cranmer._

I am right glad to catch this good occasion Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff And Corn shall fly asunder.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 1 (110).

(20) _Cranmer._

Her foes shake like a field of beaten Corn And hang their heads with sorrow.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 4 (32).

(21) _K. Richard._

We'll make foul weather with despised tears; Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer Corn.

_Richard II_, act iii, sc. 3 (161).

(22) _Arcite._

And run Swifter then winde upon a field of Corne (Curling the wealthy eares) never flew.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act ii, sc. 3 (91).

(23)

As Corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear Is almost choked by unresisted lust.

_Lucrece_ (281).

I have made these quotations as short as possible. They could not be omitted, but they require no comment.

COWSLIP.

(1) _Burgundy._

The even mead that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and green Clover.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (48).

(2) _Queen._

The Violets, Cowslips, and the Primroses, Bear to my closet.

_Cymbeline_, act i, sc. 5 (83).

(3) _Iachimo._

On her left breast A mole, cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a Cowslip.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 2 (37).

(4) _Ariel._

Where the bee sucks there suck I, In a Cowslip's bell I lie.

_Tempest_, act v, sc. 1 (88).

(5) _Thisbe._

Those yellow Cowslip cheeks.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act v, sc. 1 (339).

(6) _Fairy._

The Cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours; I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every Cowslip's ear.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (10).[65:1]

"Cowslips! how the children love them, and go out into the fields on the sunny April mornings to collect them in their little baskets, and then come home and pick the pips to make sweet unintoxicating wine, preserving at the same time untouched a bunch of the goodliest flowers as a harvest-sheaf of beauty! and then the white soft husks are gathered into balls and tossed from hand to hand till they drop to pieces, to be trodden upon and forgotten. And so at last, when each sense has had its fill of the flower, and they are thoroughly tired of their play, the children rest from their celebration of the Cowslip. Blessed are such flowers that appeal to every sense." So wrote Dr. Forbes Watson in his very pretty and Ruskinesque little work "Flowers and Gardens," and the passage well expresses one of the chief charms of the Cowslip. It is the most favourite wild flower with children. It must have been also a favourite with Shakespeare, for his descriptions show that he had studied it with affection. The minute description in (6) should be noticed. The upright golden Cowslip is compared to one of Queen Elizabeth's Pensioners, who were splendidly dressed, and are frequently noticed in the literature of the day. With Mrs. Quickly they were the _ne plus ultra_ of grandeur--"And yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners" ("Merry Wives," act ii, sc. 2). Milton, too, sings in its praise--

"Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The flowering May, who from her green lap throws The yellow Cowslip and the pale Primrose."

_Song on May Morning._

"Whilst from off the waters fleet, Then I set my printless feet O'er the Cowslip's velvet head That bends not as I tread."

_Sabrina's Song in Comus._

But in "Lycidas" he associates it with more melancholy ideas--

"With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears."

This association of sadness with the Cowslip is copied by Mrs. Hemans, who speaks of "Pale Cowslips, meet for maiden's early bier;" but these are exceptions. All the other poets who have written of the Cowslip (and they are very numerous) tell of its joyousness, and brightness, and tender beauty, and its "bland, yet luscious, meadow-breathing scent."

The names of the plant are a puzzle; botanically it is a Primrose, but it is never so called. It has many names, but its most common are Paigle and Cowslip. Paigle has never been satisfactorily explained, nor has Cowslip. Our great etymologists, Cockayne and Dr. Prior and Wedgwood, are all at variance on the name; and Dr. Prior assures us that it has nothing to do with either "cows" or "lips," though the derivation, if untrue, is at least as old as Ben Jonson, who speaks of "Bright Dayes-eyes and the lips of Cowes." But we all believe it has, and, without inquiring too closely into the etymology, we connect the flower with the rich pastures and meadows of which it forms so pretty a spring ornament, while its fine scent recalls the sweet breath of the cow--"just such a sweet, healthy odour is what we find in cows; an odour which breathes around them as they sit at rest on the pasture, and is believed by many, perhaps with truth, to be actually curative of disease" (Forbes Watson).

Botanically, the Cowslip is a very interesting plant. In all essential points the Primrose, Cowslip, and Oxlip are identical; the Primrose, however, choosing woods and copses and the shelter of the hedgerows, the Cowslip choosing the open meadows, while the Oxlip is found in either. The garden "Polyanthus of unnumbered dyes" (Thomson's "Seasons:" Spring) is only another form produced by cultivation, and is one of the most favourite plants in cottage gardens. It may, however, well be grown in gardens of more pretension; it is neat in growth, handsome in flower, of endless variety, and easy cultivation. There are also many varieties of the Cowslip, of different colours, double and single, which are very useful in the spring garden.

FOOTNOTES:

[65:1] Drayton also allotted the Cowslip as the special Fairies' flower--

"For the queene a fitting bower, (Quoth he) is that tall Cowslip flower."--_Nymphidia._

CRABS, _see_ APPLE.

CROCUS, _see_ SAFFRON.

CROW-FLOWERS.

_Queen._

There with fantastic garlands did she come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, and Long Purples.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 7 (169).

The Crow-flower is now the Buttercup,[67:1] but in Shakespeare's time it was applied to the Ragged Robin (_Lychnis flos-cuculi_), and I should think that this was the flower that poor Ophelia wove into her garland. Gerard says, "They are not used either in medicine or in nourishment; but they serve for garlands and crowns, and to deck up gardens." We do not now use the Ragged Robin for the decking of our gardens, not that we despise it, for it is a flower that all admire in the hedgerows, but because we have other members of the same family as easy to grow and more handsome, such as the double variety of the wild plant, L. Chalcedonica, L. Lagascæ, L. fulgens, L. Haagena, &c. In Shakespeare's time the name was also given to the Wild Hyacinth, which is so named by Turner and Lyte; but this could scarcely have been the flower of Ophelia's garland, which was composed of the flowers of early summer, and not of spring. (See Appendix, p. 388.)

FOOTNOTES:

[67:1] In Scotland the Wild Hyacinth is still called the Crow-flower--

"Sweet the Crow-flower's early bell Decks Gleniffer's dewy dell, Blooming like thy bonny sel, My young, my artless dearie, O."

TANNAHILL, _Gloomy Winter_.

CROWN IMPERIAL.

_Perdita._

Bold Oxlips, and The Crown Imperial.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4 (125).

The Crown Imperial is a Fritillary (_F. imperialis_). It is a native of Persia, Afghanistan, and Cashmere, but it was very early introduced into England from Constantinople, and at once became a favourite. Chapman, in 1595, spoke of it as--

"Fair Crown Imperial, Emperor of Flowers."

OVID'S _Banquet of Sense_.

Gerard had it plentifully in his garden, and Parkinson gave it the foremost place in his "Paradisus Terrestris." "The Crown Imperial," he says, "for its stately beautifulnesse deserveth the first place in this our garden of delight, to be here entreated of before all other Lillies." George Herbert evidently admired it much--

"Then went I to a garden, and did spy A gallant flower, The Crown Imperial."

_Peace_ (13).

And if not in Shakespeare's time, yet certainly very soon after, there were as many varieties as there are now. The plant, as a florist's flower, has stood still in a very remarkable way. Though it is apparently a plant that invites the attention of the hybridizing gardener, yet we still have but the two colours, the red and the yellow (a pure white would be a great acquisition), with single and double flowers, flowers in tiers, and with variegated leaves. And all these varieties have existed for more than two hundred years.

As a stately garden plant it should be in every garden. It flowers early, and then dies down. But it should be planted rather in the background, as the whole plant has an evil smell, especially in sunshine. Yet it should have a close attention, if only to study and admire the beautiful interior of the flower. I know of no other flower that is similarly formed, and it cannot be better described than in Gerard's words: "In the bottome of each of the bells there is placed six drops of most cleere shining sweet water, in taste like sugar, resembling in shew faire Orient pearles, the which drops if you take away, there do immediately appeare the like; notwithstanding, if they may be suffered to stand still in the floure according to his owne nature, they wil never fall away, no, not if you strike the plant untill it be broken." How these drops are formed, and what service they perform in the economy of the flower, has not been explained, as far as I am aware; but there is a pretty German legend which tells how the flower was originally white and erect, and grew in its full beauty in the garden of Gethsemane, where it was often noticed and admired by our Lord; but in the night of the agony, as our Lord passed through the garden, all the other flowers bowed their head in sorrowful adoration, the Crown Imperial alone remaining with its head unbowed, but not for long--sorrow and shame took the place of pride, she bent her proud[69:1] head, and blushes of shame, and tears of sorrow soon followed, and so she has ever continued, with bent head, blushing colour, and ever-flowing tears. It is a pretty legend, and may be found at full length in "Good Words for the Young," August, 1870.

FOOTNOTES:

[69:1] The bent head of the Crown Imperial could not well escape notice--

"The Polyanthus, and with prudent head, The Crown Imperial, ever bent on earth, Favouring her secret rites, and pearly sweets."--FORSTER.

CUCKOO-BUDS AND FLOWERS.

(1) _Song of Spring._

When Daisies pied, and Violets blue, And Lady-smocks all silver-white, And Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (904).

(2) _Cordelia._

He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds, With Burdocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining Corn.

_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 4 (1).

There is a difficulty in deciding what flower Shakespeare meant by Cuckoo-buds. We now always give the name to the Meadow Cress (_Cardamine pratensis_), but it cannot be that in either of these passages, because that flower is mentioned under its other name of Lady-smocks in the previous line (No. 1), nor is it "of yellow hue;" nor does it grow among Corn, as described in No. 2. Many plants have been suggested, and the choice seems to me to lie between two. Mr. Swinfen Jervis[70:1] decides without hesitation in favour of Cowslips, and the yellow hue painting the meadows in spring time gives much force to the decision; Schmidt gives the same interpretation; but I think the Buttercup, as suggested by Dr. Prior, will still better meet the requirements.

FOOTNOTES:

[70:1] "Dictionary of the Language of Shakespeare," 1868.

CUPID'S FLOWER, _see_ PANSIES.

CURRANTS.

(1) _Clown._

What am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of Sugar, five pound of Currants.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (39).

(2) _Theseus._

I stamp this kisse upon thy Currant lippe.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act i, sc. 1 (241).

The Currants of (1) are the Currants of commerce, the fruit of the Vitis Corinthiaca, whence the fruit has derived its name of Corans, or Currants.

The English Currants are of an entirely different family; and are closely allied to the Gooseberry. The Currants--black, white, and red--are natives of the northern parts of Europe, and are probably wild in Britain. They do not seem to have been much grown as garden fruit till the early part of the sixteenth century, and are not mentioned by the earlier writers; but that they were known in Shakespeare's time we have the authority of Gerard, who, speaking of Gooseberries, says: "We have also in our London gardens another sort altogether without prickes, whose fruit is very small, lesser by muche than the common kinde, but of a perfect red colour." This "perfect red colour" explains the "currant lip" of No. 2.

CYME, _see_ SENNA.

CYPRESS.[71:1]

(1) _Suffolk._

Their sweetest shade, a grove of Cypress trees!

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (322).

(2) _Aufidius._

I am attended at the Cypress grove.

_Coriolanus_, act i, sc. 10 (30).

(3) _Gremio._

In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns, In Cypress chests my arras counterpoints.

_Taming of the Shrew_, act ii, sc. 1 (351).

The Cypress (_Cupressus sempervirens_), originally a native of Mount Taurus, is found abundantly through all the South of Europe, and is said to derive its name from the Island of Cyprus. It was introduced into England many years before Shakespeare's time, but is always associated in the old authors with funerals and churchyards; so that Spenser calls it the "Cypress funereal," which epithet he may have taken from Pliny's description of the Cypress: "Natu morosa, fructu supervacua, baccis torva, foliis amara, odore violenta, ac ne umbrâ quidem gratiosa--Diti sacra, et ideo funebri signo ad domos posita" ("Nat. Hist.," xvi. 32).

Sir John Mandeville mentions the Cypress in a very curious way: "The Cristene men, that dwellen beyond the See, in Grece, seyn that the tree of the Cros, that we callen Cypresse, was of that tree that Adam ete the Appule of; and that fynde thei writen" ("Voiage," &c., cap. 2). And the old poem of the "Squyr of lowe degre," gives the tree a sacred pre-eminence--

"The tre it was of Cypresse, The fyrst tre that Iesu chese."

RITSON'S _Ear. Eng. Met. Romances_, viii. (31).

"In the Arundel MS. 42 may be found an alphabet of plants. . . . The author mentions his garden 'by Stebenhythe by syde London,' and relates that he brought a bough of Cypress with its Apples from Bristol 'into Estbritzlond,' fresh in September, to show that it might be propagated by slips."--_Promptorium Parvulorum_, app. 67.

The Cypress is an ornamental evergreen, but stiff in its growth till it becomes of a good age; and for garden purposes the European plant is becoming replaced by the richer forms from Asia and North America, such as C. Lawsoniana, macrocarpa, Lambertiana, and others.

FOOTNOTES:

[71:1] Cypress, or Cyprus (for the word is spelt differently in the different editions), is also mentioned by Shakespeare in the following--

(1) _Clown._

In sad Cypress let me be laid.

_Twelfth Night_, act ii, sc. 4.

(2) _Olivia._

To one of your receiving Enough is shown; and Cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my poor heart.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1.

(3) _Autolycus._

Lawn as white as driven snow, Cyprus, black as e'er was crow.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3.

But in all these cases the Cypress is not the name of the plant, but is the fabric which we now call crape, the "sable stole of Cypre's lawn" of Milton's "Penseroso."

DAFFODILS.[73:1]

(1) _Autolycus._

When Daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy o'er the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (1).

(2) _Perdita._

Daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 4 (118).

(3) _Wooer._

With chaplets on their heads of Daffodillies.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act iv, sc. 1 (94).

_See also_ NARCISSUS, p. 175.

Of all English plants there have been none in such constant favour as the Daffodil, whether known by its classical name of Narcissus, or by its more popular names of Daffodil, or Daffadowndilly, and Jonquil. The name of Narcissus it gets from being supposed to be the same as the plant so named by the Greeks first and the Romans afterwards. It is a question whether the plants are the same, and I believe most authors think they are not; but I have never been able to see very good reasons for their doubts. The name Jonquil comes corrupted through the French, from _juncifolius_ or "rush-leaf," and is properly restricted to those species of the family which have rushy leaves. "Daffodil" is commonly said to be a corruption of Asphodel ("Daffodil is +Asphodelon+, and has capped itself with a letter which eight hundred years ago did not belong to it."--COCKAYNE, _Spoon and Sparrow_, 19), with which plant it was confused (as it is in Lyte's "Herbal"), but Lady Wilkinson says very positively that "it is simply the old English word 'affodyle,'[73:2] which signifies 'that which cometh early.'" "Daffadowndilly," again is supposed to be but a playful corruption of "Daffodil," but Dr. Prior argues (and he is a very safe authority) that it is rather a corruption of "Saffron Lily." Daffadowndilly is not used by Shakespeare, but it is used by his contemporaries, as by Spenser frequently, and by H. Constable, who died in 1604--

"Diaphenia, like the Daffadowndilly, White as the sun, fair as the Lilly, Heigh, ho! how I do love thee!"

But however it derived its pretty names, it was the favourite flower of our ancestors as a garden flower, and especially as the flower for making garlands, a custom very much more common then than it is now. It was the favourite of all English poets. Gower describes the Narcissus--

"For in the winter fresh and faire The flowres ben, which is contraire To kind, and so was the folie Which fell of his surquedrie"--_i.e._, of Narcissus.

_Confes. Aman._ lib. prim. (1. 121 Paulli).

Shakespeare must have had a special affection for it, for in all his descriptions there is none prettier or more suggestive than Perdita's short but charming description of the Daffodil (No. 2). A small volume might be filled with the many poetical descriptions of this "delectable and sweet-smelling flower," but there are some which are almost classical, and which can never be omitted, and which will bear repetition, however well we know them. Milton says, "The Daffodillies fill their cups with tears."[74:1] There are Herrick's well-known lines--

"Fair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon, As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon; Stay, stay, Until the hastening day Has run But to the even-song; And having prayed together, we Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay as you, We have as short a spring, As quick a growth to meet decay, As you or anything. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away, Like to the summer's rain, Or as the pearls of morning dew, Ne'er to be found again."

And there are Keats' and Shelley's well-known and beautiful lines which bring down the praises of the Daffodil to our own day. Keats says--

"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever, Its loveliness increases, it will never Pass into nothingness. . . . . . . . . . . In spite of all Some shape of beauty moves away the pale From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep; and such are Daffodils With the green world they live in."

Shelley is still warmer in his praise--

"Narcissus, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die of their own dear loveliness."

_The Sensitive Plant_, p. 1.

Nor must Wordsworth be left out when speaking of the poetry of Daffodils. His stanzas are well known, while his sister's prose description of them is the most poetical of all: "They grew among the mossy stones; . . . some rested their heads on these stones as on a pillow, the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they looked so gay and glancing."[76:1]

But it is time to come to prose. The Daffodil of Shakespeare is the Wild Daffodil (_Narcissus pseudo-Narcissus_) that is found in abundance in many parts of England. This is the true English Daffodil, and there is only one other species that is truly native--the N. biflorus, chiefly found in Devonshire. But long before Shakespeare's time a vast number had been introduced from different parts of Europe, so that Gerard was able to describe twenty-four different species, and had "them all and every of them in our London gardens in great abundance." The family, as at present arranged by Mr. J. G. Baker, of the Kew Herbarium, consists of twenty-one species, with several sub-species and varieties; all of which should be grown. They are all, with the exception of the Algerian species, which almost defy cultivation in England, most easy of cultivation--"Magnâ curâ non indigent Narcissi." They only require after the first planting to be let alone, and then they will give us their graceful flowers in varied beauty from February to May. The first will usually be the grand N. maximus, which may be called the King of Daffodils, though some authors have given to it a still more illustrious name. The "Rose of Sharon" was the large yellow Narcissus, common in Palestine and the East generally, of which Mahomet said: "He that has two cakes of bread, let him sell one of them for some flower of the Narcissus, for bread is the food of the body, but Narcissus is the food of the soul." From these grand leaders of the tribe we shall be led through the Hoop-petticoats, the many-flowered Tazettas, and the sweet Jonquils, till we end the Narcissus season with the Poets' Narcissus (Ben Jonson's "chequ'd and purple-ringed Daffodilly"), certainly one of the most graceful flowers that grows, and of a peculiar fragrance that no other flower has; so beautiful is it, that even Dr. Forbes Watson's description of it is scarcely too glowing: "In its general expression the Poets' Narcissus seems a type of maiden purity and beauty, yet warmed by a love-breathing fragrance; and yet what innocence in the large soft eye, which few can rival amongst the whole tribe of flowers. The narrow, yet vivid fringe of red, so clearly seen amidst the whiteness, suggests again the idea of purity, gushing passion--purity with a heart which can kindle into fire."

FOOTNOTES:

[73:1] This account of the Daffodil, and the accounts of some other flowers, I have taken from a paper by myself on the common English names of plants read to the Bath Field Club in 1870, and published in the "Transactions" of the Club, and afterwards privately printed.--H. N. E.

[73:2]

"Herbe orijam and Thyme and Violette Eke Affodyle and savery thereby sette."

_Palladius on Husbandrie_,