The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespear - Henry Nicholson Ellacombe (color ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Henry Nicholson Ellacombe
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And let not Hemp his windpipe suffocate. Henry V, act iii, sc. 6 (45). (2) Chorus. And in them behold
Upon the Hempen tackle ship-boys climbing. Henry V, act iii, chorus (7). (3) Puck. What Hempen homespuns have we swaggering here? Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 1 (79). (4) Cade. Ye shall have a Hempen caudle then, and the pap of a hatchet. 2nd Henry VI, act iv, sc. 7 (95). (5) Hostess. Thou Hemp-seed. 2nd Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (64).
In all these passages, except the last, the reference is to rope made from Hemp, and not to the Hemp plant, and it is very probable that Shakespeare never saw the plant. It was introduced into England long before his time, and largely cultivated, but only in few parts of England, and chiefly in the eastern counties. I do not find that it was cultivated in gardens in his time, but it is a plant well deserving a place in any garden, and is especially suitable from its height and regular growth, for the central plant of a flower-bed. It is supposed to be a native of India, and seems capable of cultivation in almost any climate.[122:1]
The name has a curious history. "The Greek κάνναβις, and Latin cannabis, are both identical with the Sanscrit kanam, as well as with the German hanf, and the English hemp. More directly from cannabis comes canvas, made up of hemp or flax, and canvass, to discuss: i.e., sift a question; metaphorically from the use of hempen sieves or sifters."—Birdwood's Handbook to the Indian Court, p. 23.
FOOTNOTES:[122:1] In Shakespeare's time the vulgar name for Hemp was Neckweed, and there is a curious account of it under that name by William Bullein, in "The Booke of Compounds," f. 68.
HERB OF GRACE, see Rue. HOLLY. Song. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green Holly:Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the Holly!
This life is most jolly. As You Like It, act ii, sc. 7 (180).
From this single notice of the Holly in Shakespeare, and from the slight account of it in Gerard, we might conclude that the plant was not the favourite in the sixteenth century that it is in the nineteenth; but this would be a mistake. The Holly entered largely into the old Christmas carols.
Comes in like a bride,
With Holly and Ivy clad"—
and it was from the earliest times used for the decoration of houses and churches at Christmas. It does not, however, derive its name from this circumstance, though it was anciently spelt "holy," or called the "holy tree," for the name comes from a very different source, and is identical with "holm," which, indeed, was its name in the time of Gerard and Parkinson, and is still its name in some parts of England, though it has almost lost its other old name of Hulver,[123:1] except in the eastern counties, where the word is still in use. But as an ornamental tree it does not seem to have been much valued, though in the next century Evelyn is loud in the praises of this "incomparable tree," and admired it both for its beauty and its use. It is certainly the handsomest of our native evergreens, and is said to be finer in England than in any other country; and as seen growing in its wild habitats in our forests, as it may be seen in the New Forest and the Forest of Dean, it stands without a rival, equally beautiful in summer and in winter; in summer its bright glossy leaves shining out distinctly in the midst of any surrounding greenery, while as "the Holly that outdares cold winter's ire" (Browne), it is the very emblem of bright cheerfulness, with its foliage uninjured in the most severe weather, and its rich coral berries, sometimes borne in the greatest profusion, delighting us with their brilliancy and beauty. And as a garden shrub, the Holly still holds its own, after all the fine exotic shrubs that have been introduced into our gardens during the present century. It can be grown as a single shrub, or it may be clipped, and will then form the best and the most impregnable hedge that can be grown. No other plant will compare with it as a hedge plant, if it be only properly attended to, and we can understand Evelyn's pride in his "glorious and refreshing object," a Holly hedge 160ft. in length, 7ft. in height, and 5ft. in diameter, which he could show in his "poor gardens at any time of the year, glittering with its armed and vernished leaves," and "blushing with their natural corale." Nor need we be confined to plain green in such a hedge. The Holly runs into a great many varieties, with the leaves of all shapes and sizes, and blotched and variegated in different fashions and colours. All of these seem to be comparatively modern. In the time of Gerard and Parkinson there seems to have been only the one typical species, and perhaps the Hedgehog Holly.
I may finish the notice of the Holly by quoting two most remarkable uses of the tree mentioned by Parkinson: "With the flowers of Holly, saith Pliny from Pythagoras, water is made ice; and againe, a staffe of the tree throwne at any beast, although it fall short by his defect that threw it, will flye to him, as he lyeth still, by the speciall property of the tree." He may well add—"This I here relate that you may understand the fond and vain conceit of those times, which I would to God we were not in these dayes tainted withal."
FOOTNOTES:[123:1] "Hulwur-tre (huluyr), hulmus, hulcus aut huscus."—Promptorium Parvulorum.
HOLY THISTLE. Margaret. Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm. Hero. There thou prickest her with a Thistle. Beatrice. Benedictus! Why Benedictus? You have some moral in this Benedictus. Margaret. Moral! No, by my troth, I have no moral meaning: I meant plain Holy Thistle. Much Ado About Nothing, act iii, sc. 4 (73).The Carduus benedictus, or Blessed Thistle, is a handsome annual from the South of Europe, and obtained its name from its high reputation as a heal-all, being supposed even to cure the plague, which was the highest praise that could be given to a medicine in those days. It is mentioned in all the treatises on the Plague, and especially by Thomas Brasbridge, who, in 1578, published his "Poore Mans Jewell, that is to say, a Treatise of the Pestilence: vnto which is annexed a declaration of the vertues of the Hearbes Carduus Benedictus and Angelica." This little book Shakespeare may have seen; it speaks of the virtues of the "distilled" leaves: it says, "it helpeth the hart," "expelleth all poyson taken in at the mouth and other corruption that doth hurt and annoye the hart," and that "the juyce of it is outwardly applied to the bodie" ("lay it to your heart"), and concludes, "therefore I counsell all them that have Gardens to nourish it, that they may have it always to their own use, and the use of their neighbours that lacke it." The plant has long lost this high character.
HONEYSTALKS, see Clover. HONEYSUCKLE. (1) Hero. And bid her steal into the pleached bowerWhere Honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter. Much Ado About Nothing, act iii, sc. 1 (7). (2) Ursula. So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the Woodbine coverture. Ibid. (29). (3) Titania. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
So doth the Woodbine the sweet Honeysuckle
Gently entwist; the Female Ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm. Midsummer Night's Dream, act iv, sc. 1 (47). (4) Hostess. O thou Honeysuckle villain. 2nd Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (52). (5) Oberon. I know a bank where the wild Thyme blows,
Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious Woodbine. Midsummer Night's Dream, act ii, sc. 1 (249).
I have joined together here the Woodbine and the Honeysuckle, because there can be little doubt that in Shakespeare's time the two names belonged to the same plant,[126:1] and that the Woodbine was (where the two names were at all discriminated, as in No. 3), applied to the plant generally, and Honeysuckle to the flower. This seems very clear by comparing together Nos. 1 and 2. In earlier writings the name was applied very loosely to almost any creeping or climbing plant. In an Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the eleventh century it is applied to the Wild Clematis ("Viticella—Weoden-binde"); while in Archbishop Ælfric's "Vocabulary" of the tenth century it is applied to the Hedera nigra, which may be either the Common or the Ground Ivy ("Hedera nigra—Wude-binde"); and in the Herbarium and Leechdom books of the twelfth century it is applied to the Capparis or Caper-plant, by which, however (as Mr. Cockayne considers), the Convolvulus Sepium is meant. After Shakespeare's time again the words began to be used confusedly. Milton does not seem to have been very clear in the matter. In "Paradise Lost" he makes our first parents "wind the Woodbine round this arbour" (perhaps he had Shakespeare's arbour in his mind); and in "Comus" he tells us of—
With ivy-canopied, and interwove
With flaunting Honeysuckle."[126:2]
While in "Lycidas" he tells of—
And we can scarcely suppose that he would apply two such contrary epithets as "flaunting" and "well-attired" to the same plant. And now the name, as of old, is used with great uncertainty, and I have heard it applied to many plants, and especially to the small sweet-scented Clematis (C. flammula).
But with the Honeysuckle there is no such difficulty. The name is an old one, and in its earliest use was no doubt indifferently applied to many sweet-scented flowers (the Primrose amongst them); but it was soon attached exclusively to our own sweet Honeysuckle of the woods and hedges. We have two native species (Lonicera periclymenum and L. xylosteum), and there are about eighty exotic species, but none of them sweeter or prettier than our own, which, besides its fragrant flowers, has pretty, fleshy, red fruit.
The Honeysuckle has ever been the emblem of firm and fast affection—as it climbs round any tree or bush, that is near it, not only clinging to it faster than Ivy, but keeping its hold so tight as to leave its mark in deep furrows on the tree that has supported it. The old writers are fond of alluding to this. Bullein in "The Book of Simples," 1562, says very prettily, "Oh, how swete and pleasant is Wood-binde, in woodes or arbours, after a tender, soft rain: and how friendly doe this herbe, if I maie so name it, imbrace the bodies, armes, and branches of trees, with his long winding stalkes, and tender leaves, openyng or spreading forthe his swete Lillis, like ladie's fingers, emōg the thornes or
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