The Book of Herbs, Rosalind Northcote [best books to read for self development TXT] 📗
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There was a very strong belief that the flowers followed the sun, and many allusions are made to this; amongst them, two melancholy lines which are said to have been drawn from some “Meditations” by Charles I., written at Carisbrooke Castle.
More than my subjects me have done.”
Shakespeare refers often to this idea, and the flower was obviously “to earlier writers the emblem of constancy in affection and sympathy in joy and sorrow, though it was also the emblem of the fawning courtier who could only shine when everything is bright.” (Canon Ellacombe). Marigolds have figured in heraldry, for Marguerite of Valois, grandmother of Henri IV., chose for her armorial device a marigold turning towards the sun, with the motto, Je ne veux suivre que lui seul. About the fifteenth century the Marigold was called Souvenir, and ladies wore posies of marigolds and heartsease mingled, that is, a bunch of “happiness stored in recollections,” a very pretty allegorical meaning. But it has been the symbol of memories anything but happy, for curiously enough, this sun’s flower means Grief in the language of flowers, and in many countries is connected with the idea of death. This thought occurs in Pericles and in the song in “Two noble Kinsmen.” In America, one name for them is death-flowers, because there is a tradition that they “sprang upon ground stained by the life-blood of these unfortunate Mexicans who fell victims to the love of gold and arrogant cruelty of the early Spanish settlers in America.”[46] However, to restore the balance of happiness, one learns that to dream of Marigolds augurs wealth, prosperity, success, and a rich and happy marriage! In Fuller’s “Antheologia, or the Speech of Flowers”—a most amusing tale—the Marigold occupies a prominent place. The scene opens with a dispute in the Flowers’ Parliament between the Tulip and the Rose. “Whilst this was passing in the Upper House of Flowers, no less were the transactions in the Lower House of the Herbs; where there was a general acclamation against Wormwood. Wormwood’s friends were casually absent that day, making merry at an entertainment, her enemies (let not that sex be angry for making Wormwood feminine) appeared in full body and made so great a noise, as if some mouths had two tongues in them.” Wormwood and the Tulip were eventually both cast out of the garden, and lying by the roadside addressed themselves to a passing Wild Boar, telling him of a hole in the hedge, by which he may creep into the garden and revenge them, and amuse himself by destroying the flowers. At the moment he enters, “Thrift, a Flower-Herb, was just courting Marigold as follows: ‘Mistress of all Flowers that grow on Earth, give me leave to profess my sincerest affections to you.... I have taken signal notice of your accomplishments, and among other rare qualities, particularly of this, your loyalty and faithfulness to the Sun, ... but we all know the many and sovereign virtues in your leaves, the Herb Generall in all pottage.” He then proceeds to praise himself, “I am no gamester to shake away with a quaking hand what a more fixed hand did gain and acquire. I am none of those who in vanity of clothes bury my quick estate as in a winding sheet.” The Marigold demurely hung her head and replied, “I am tempted to have a good opinion of myself, to which all people are prone, and we women most of all, if we may believe your opinions of us, which herein I am afraid are too true.” But she is not deceived by his flattery. “The plain truth is you love me not for myself, but for your advantage. It is Golden the arrear of my name, which maketh Thrift to be my suitor. How often and how unworthily have you tendered your affections even to a Penny royal itself, had she not scorned to be courted by you. But I commend the girl that she knew her own worth, though it was but a penny, yet it is a Royal one, and therefore not a match for every base Suitor, but knew how to value herself; and give me leave to tell you that Matches founded on Covetousness never succeed.” At this point in her spirited reply the Boar approached. “There is no such teacher as extremity; necessity hath found out more Arts than ever ingenuity invented. The Wall Gillyflower ran up to the top of the Wall of the Garden, where it hath grown ever since, and will never descend till it hath good security for its own safety.” Other thrilling scenes follow, and finally the Boar is put an end to by the gardener and “a Guard of Dogs.”
Marigolds stood as a standard of comparison, and Isaac Walton uses the common saying, “As yellow as a Marigold.” Among the various titles of different kinds of Marigold Gerarde gives the oddest, for he calls one variety Jackanapes-on-horseback; Fuller calls it the “Herb-Generall of all pottage,” and it was much esteemed in this capacity. Gay says:
Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.
The Squabble.
“The yellow leaves of the flowers are dried and kept throughout Dutchland against winter, to put into broths, in physical potions, and for divers other purposes in such quantity that in some Grocers or Spice Sellers houses are to be found barrels filled with them and retailed by the penny more or less, insomuch that no broths are well made without Marigolds.” One is reminded of the childish heroine in Miss Edgeworth’s charming story “Simple Susan” and how she added the petals of Marigolds, as the last touch, to the broth she had made for her invalid mother! Parkinson observes that the flowers “green or dryed are often used in possets, broths and drinks as a comforter to the heart and spirits,” and that Syrup and Conserve are made of the fresh flowers; also “the flowers of Marigold pickt clean from the heads and pickled up against winter make an excellent Sallet when no flowers are to be had in a garden, which Sallet is nowadays in the highest esteem with Gentles and Ladies of the greatest note.” There is a tone of patronage in this last remark which is rather irritating. “Some used to make their heyre yellow with the floure of this herbe,” says Turner, and severely censures the impiousness of such an act. A hundred years ago, according to Abercromby, the flowers were chiefly used to flavour broth and to adulterate Saffron, but they must be even less employed now than then.
Dr Fernie says that the flowers of Marigold were much used by American surgeons during the Civil War, in treating wounds, and with admirable results. “Calendula owes its introduction and first use altogether to homœopathic practice, as signally valuable for healing wounds, ulcers, burns, and other breaches of the skin surface.” Personal experience leads me to suggest that it is an excellent household remedy.
The Corn Marigold (Chrysanthemum segetum) used to be called Guildes, and it was once so rampant that a law was passed by the Scottish Parliament to fine negligent farmers who allowed it to overrun their lands. Hence the old Scots saying—
Are the three worst ills the Moray ever saw.
[45] Ingram, “Flora Symbolica.”
[46] Folkard.
Pennyroyal (Mentha pulegium).So deep within my heart,
That when you look this nosegay on
My pain you may impart,
And when that you have read the same,
Consider wel my woe.
Think ye then how to recompense
Even him that loves you so.
A Handful of Pleasant Delites.
C. Robinson.
My chapter, and for trial,
Costmary, that so likes the cup,
And next it, pennyroyal.
Muses’ Elysium.
And that which cats[47] esteem so delicate
After a while slow-pac’d with much ado,
Ground pine, with her short legs, crept hither too.
Of Plants, book ii.—Cowley.
In France, Italy, and Spain, the children make a crêche de noël at Christmas time; that is, they make a shed with stones and moss, and surround it with evergreens powdered with flour and cotton-wool, to make a little landscape. In and about this shed are placed the gens de la crêche; little earthen figures representing the Holy Family, and the Three Kings with their camels, and the Shepherds with their flocks, the sheep being disposed among the miniature rocks and bushes. On Christmas eve, or else sometimes on Twelfth Night, I think, these are saluted with the music of pipes and carol singing. De Gubernatis says that the children of Sicily always put pennyroyal amongst the green things in their crêches, and believe that exactly at midnight it bursts into flower for Christmas Day.
Other names for it are Pulioll Royal and Pudding-grasse, “and in the west parts, as about Exeter, Organs.” It is still called organs in the “West parts,” and organ-tea used to be a favourite drink to take out to the harvesters. In Italy pennyroyal is a protection against the Evil Eye, and in Sicily, they tie it to the branches of the fig-tree, thinking that this will prevent the figs falling before they are ripe. It is there also offered to husbands and wives who are in the habit of “falling out” with each other. “The Ancients said that it causeth Sheepe and Goates to bleate when they are eating of it.” To produce all those wonderful effects, it must have a great deal of magic about it. Gerarde says it grows “in the Common neare London, called Miles End, about the holes and ponds thereof in sundry places, from whence poore women bring plentie to sell in London markets.” Would that it could be found at “Miles End” now! He gives in passing a sidelight on the comfort in travelling, in the good old days: “If you have when you are at the sea Penny Royal in great quantitie, drie and cast it into corrupt water, it helpeth it much, neither will it hurt them that drinke thereof.” This inevitable state of things, in making a voyage, is faced with philosophic calm. “A Garland of Pennie Royal made and worne on the head is good against headache and giddiness.”
[47] Cat-mint.
Purslane (Portulaca).Of water-cress.
Thanksgiving.—Herrick.
De la Quintinye thought Purslane “one of
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