The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare
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