The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespear - Henry Nicholson Ellacombe (color ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Henry Nicholson Ellacombe
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To wed her Elm; she spoused, about him twines
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves."
And Browne—
Bent all her course to him-wards, let him know
He was the Elm, whereby her Vine did grow."
Clipping so strictly that they seemed to be
One in their growth, one shade, one fruit, one tree;
Her boughs his arms; his leaves so mixed with hers,
That with no wind he moved, but straight she stirs."
But I should think that neither Shakespeare, nor Browne, nor Milton ever saw an English Vine trained to an Elm; they were simply copying from the classical writers.
The Wych Elm is probably a true native, but the more common Elm of our hedgerows is a tree of Southern Europe and North Africa, and is of such modern introduction into England that in Evelyn's time it was rarely seen north of Stamford. It was probably introduced into Southern England by the Romans.
FOOTNOTES:[87:1] Why Falstaff should be called a dead Elm is not very apparent; but the Elm was associated with death as producing the wood for coffins. Thus Chaucer speaks of it as "the piler Elme, the cofre unto careyne," i.e., carrion ("Parliament of Fowles," 177).
ERINGOES. Falstaff. Let the sky rain Potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits, and snow Eringoes. Merry Wives, act v, sc. 5 (20).Gerard tells us that Eringoes are the candied roots of the Sea Holly (Eryngium maritimum), and he gives the recipe for candying them. I am not aware that the Sea Holly is ever now so used, but it is a very handsome plant as it is seen growing on the sea shore, and its fine foliage makes it an ornamental plant for a garden. But as used by Falstaff I am inclined to think that the vegetable he wished for was the Globe Artichoke, which is a near ally of the Eryngium, was a favourite diet in Shakespeare's time, and was reputed to have certain special virtues which are not attributed to the Sea Holly, but which would more accord with Falstaff's character.[88:1] I cannot, however, anywhere find that the Artichoke was called Eringoes.
FOOTNOTES:[88:1] For these supposed virtues of the Artichoke see Bullein's "Book of Simples."
FENNEL. (1) Ophelia. There's Fennel for you and Columbines. Hamlet, act iv, sc 5 (189). (2) Falstaff. And a' plays at quoits well, and eats conger and Fennel. 2nd Henry IV, act ii, sc. 4 (266).The Fennel was always a plant of high reputation. The Plain of Marathon was so named from the abundance of Fennel (μαραθρον) growing on it.[89:1] And like all strongly scented plants, it was supposed by the medical writers to abound in "virtues." Gower, describing the star Pleiades, says—
The vertuous Fenel it is."
These virtues cannot be told more pleasantly than by Longfellow—
The Fennel with its yellow flowers,
And in an earlier age than ours
Was gifted with the wondrous powers—
Lost vision to restore.
It gave men strength and fearless mood,
And gladiators fierce and rude
Mingled it with their daily food:
And he who battled and subdued
A wreath of Fennel wore."
"Yet the virtues of Fennel, as thus enumerated by Longfellow, do not comprise either of those attributes of the plant which illustrate the two passages from Shakespeare. The first alludes to it as an emblem of flattery, for which ample authority has been found by the commentators.[89:2] Florio is quoted for the phrase 'Dare finocchio,' to give fennel, as meaning to flatter. In the second quotation the allusion is to the reputation of Fennel as an inflammatory herb with much the same virtues as are attributed to Eringoes."—Mr. J. F. Marsh in The Garden.
The English name was directly derived from its Latin name Fœniculum, which may have been given it from its hay-like smell (fœnum), but this is not certain. We have another English word derived from the Giant Fennel of the South of Europe (ferula); this is the ferule, an instrument of punishment for small boys, also adopted from the Latin, the Roman schoolmaster using the stalks of the Fennel for the same purpose as the modern schoolmaster uses the cane.
The early poets looked on the Fennel as an emblem of the early summer—
When the Fenell hangeth yn toun."
As a useful plant, the chief use is as a garnishing and sauce for fish. Large quantities of the seed are said to be imported to flavour gin, but this can scarcely be called useful. As ornamental plants, the large Fennels (F. Tingitana, F. campestris, F. glauca, &c.) are very desirable where they can have the necessary room.
FOOTNOTES:[89:1] "Fennelle or Fenkelle, feniculum maratrum."—Catholicon Anglicum.
[89:2]
" Christophers. No, my good lord. Count. Your good lord! O, how this smells of Fennel." Ben Jonson, The Case Altered, act ii, sc. 2. FERN. Gadshill. We have the receipt of Fern-seed—we walk invisible. Chamberlain. Now, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night than to Fern-seed for your walking invisible. 1st Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (95).There is a fashion in plants as in most other things, and in none is this more curiously shown than in the estimation in which Ferns are and have been held. Now-a-days it is the fashion to admire Ferns, and few would be found bold enough to profess an indifference to them. But it was not always so. Theocritus seems to have admired the Fern—
But Virgil gives it a bad character, speaking of it as "filicem invisam." Horace is still more severe, "neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris." The Anglo-Saxon translation of Boethius spoke contemptuously of the "Thorns, and the Furzes, and the Fern, and all the weeds" (Cockayne). And so it was in Shakespeare's time. Butler spoke of it as the—
That grows equivocably without seed."
Cowley spoke the opinion of his day as if the plant had neither use nor beauty—
Nec mihi vel semen dura Noverca dedit—
Nec me sole fovet, nec cultis crescere in hortis
Concessum, et Foliis gratia nulla meis—
Herba invisa Deis poteram cœloque videri,
Et spurio Terræ nata puerperio."
And later still Gilpin, who wrote so much on the beauties of country scenery at the close of the last century, has nothing better to say for Ferns than that they are noxious weeds, to be classed with "Thorns and Briers, and other ditch trumpery." The fact, no doubt, is that Ferns were considered something "uncanny and eerie;" our ancestors could not understand a plant which seemed to them to have neither flower nor seed, and so they boldly asserted it had neither. "This kinde of Ferne," says Lyte in 1587, "beareth neither flowers nor sede, except we shall take for sede the black spots growing on the backsides of the leaves, the whiche some do gather thinking to worke wonders, but to say the trueth it is nothing els but trumperie and superstition." A plant so strange must needs have strange qualities, but the peculiar power attributed to it of making persons invisible arose thus:—It was the age in which the doctrine of signatures was fully believed in; according to which doctrine Nature, in giving particular shapes to leaves and flowers, had thereby plainly taught for what diseases they were specially useful.[91:1] Thus a heart-shaped leaf was for heart disease, a liver-shaped for the liver, a bright-eyed flower was for the eyes, a foot-shaped flower or leaf would certainly cure the gout, and so on; and then when they found a plant which certainly grew and increased, but of which the organs of fructification were invisible, it was a clear conclusion that properly used the plant would confer the gift of invisibility. Whether the people really believed this or not we cannot say,[92:1] but they were quite ready to believe any wonder connected with the plant, and so it was a constant advertisement with the quacks. Even in Addison's time "it was impossible to walk the streets without having an advertisement thrust into your hand of a doctor who had arrived at the knowledge of the Green and Red Dragon, and had discovered the female Fern-seed. Nobody ever knew what this meant" ("Tatler," No. 240). But to name all the superstitions connected with the Fern would take too much space.
The name is expressive; it is a contraction of the Anglo-Saxon fepern, and so shows that some of our ancestors marked its feathery form; and its history as a garden plant is worth a few lines. So little has it been esteemed as a garden plant that Mr. J. Smith, the ex-Curator of the Kew Gardens, tells us that in the year 1822 the collection of Ferns at Kew was so extremely poor that "he could not estimate the entire Kew collection of exotic Ferns at that period at more than forty species" (Smith's "Ferns, British and Exotic," introduction). Since that time the steadily increasing admiration of Ferns has caused collectors to send them from all parts of the world, so that in 1866 Mr. Smith was enabled to describe about a thousand species, and now the number must be much larger; and the closer search for Ferns has further brought into notice a very large number of most curious varieties and monstrosities, which it is still more curious to observe are, with very few exceptions, confined to the British species.
FOOTNOTES:[91:1] See Brown's "Religio Medici," p. ii. 2.
[92:1] It probably was the real belief, as we find it so often mentioned as a positive fact; thus Browne—
If I enjoy or love where thou lov'st so;
Since my affection ever secret tried
Blooms like the Fern, and seeds still unespied."
FIGS. (1) Titania. Feed him with Apricocks and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes, green Figs, and Mulberries. Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 1 (169). (2) Constance. And its grandam will
Give it a Plum, a Cherry, and a Fig. King John, act ii, sc. 1 (161). (3) Guard. Here is a rural fellow
That will not be denied your Highness's presence,
He brings you Figs. Antony and Cleopatra, act v, sc. 2 (233). (4) 1st Guard. A simple countryman that brought her
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