Amongst the account-books of the Physic Garden in Chelsea, there is one on whose fly-leaf is scrawled a list of “Botanical Writers before Christ.” It begins:

• Zoroaster.
• Orpheus.
• Moses.
• Solomon.
• Homer.
• Solon.

Names that one hardly expects to find grouped together, and especially not under this heading. The vegetable world, however, has attracted writers since the earliest times, and in the days when supernatural agencies were almost always brought forward to account for uncomprehended phenomena, it was not marvellous that misty lore should lead to the association of plants and magic. The book of nature is not always easy to read, and the older students drew from it very personal interpretations. Some herbs were magical because they were used in spells and sorceries; others, because they had power in themselves. For instance, Basil, the perfume of which was thought to cause sympathy between two people, and in Moldavia they say it can even stop a wandering youth upon his way and make him love the maiden from whose hand he accepts a sprig. The Crocus flower, too, belongs to the second class, and brings laughter and great joy, and so it is with others. Plants were also credited with strong friendships and “enmities” amongst themselves. “The ancients” held strong views about their “sympathies and antipathies,” and this sympathy or antipathy was attributed to individual likes and dislikes. “Rue dislikes Basil,” says Pliny, “but Rue and the Fig-tree are in a great league and amitie” together. Alexanders loveth to grow in the same place as Rosemary, but the Radish is “at enmetie” with Hyssop. Savory and Onions are the better for each other’s neighbourhood, and Coriander, Dill, Mallows, Herb-Patience and Chervil “love for companie to be set or sowne together.” Bacon refers to some of these, but he took a prosaic view and thought these predilections due to questions of soil!

Being credited with such strong feelings amongst themselves, it is easier to understand how they were supposed to sympathise with their “environment.” Honesty, of course, grew best in a very honest man’s garden. Where Rosemary flourishes, the mistress rules. Sage will fade with the fortunes of the house and revive again as they recover; and Bay-trees are famous, but melancholy prophets.

From this, it is not a great step to acknowledge that particular plants have power to produce certain dispositions in the mind of man. So, the possession of a Rampion was likely to make a child quarrelsome: while, on the contrary, eating the leaves of Periwinkle “will cause love between a man and his wife.” Laurel greatly “composed the phansy,” and did “facilitate true visions,” and was also “efficacious to inspire a poetical fury” (Evelyn). Having admitted the power of herbs over mental and moral qualities, we easily arrive at the recognition of their power in regard to the supernatural. If, as Culpepper tells us, “a raging bull, be he ever so mad, tied to a Fig-tree, will become tame and gentle;” or if, as Pliny says, any one, “by anointing himself with Chicory and oile will become right amiable and win grace and favour of all men, so that he shal the more easily obtain whatsoever his heart stands unto,” it is not much wonder that St John’s Wort would drive away tempests and evil spirits, four-leaved Clover enable the wearer to see witches, and Garlic avert the Evil Eye. Thus many herbs are magical “in their own right,” so to speak, apart from those that are connected with magic, from being favourites of the fairies, the witches, and, in a few cases, the Evil One!

De Gubernatis quotes from a work on astrology attributed to King Solomon, and translated from the Hebrew (?) by IroÉ Grego (published in Rome, 1750), with indignant comments on the “pagan” methods of the Church in dealing with sorceries. Directions how to make an aspersoir pour exorcisme are given in it, which, teaching, he says, simply add to the peasant’s existing load of superstition. Vervain, Periwinkle, Sage, Mint, Valerian, Ash and Basil are some of the plants chosen. “Tu n’y ajouteras point l’Hysope, mais le Romarin” (Rosemary). It is odd that Hyssop should be excluded, because it has always been a special defence against powers of darkness. In Palermo (again according to De Gubernatis), on the day of St Mark, the priests mount a hill in procession and bless the surrounding country, and the women gather quantities of the Hyssop growing about, and take it home to keep away from their houses the Evil Eye, and “toute autre influence magique.” Rosemary is celebrated, from this point of view, as from others. It was, say the Spaniards, one of the bushes that gave shelter to the Virgin Mary in the flight into Egypt, and it is still revered. Borrow, in “The Bible in Spain,” notices that, whereas in that country it is Romero, the Pilgrim’s Flower, in Portugal it is called Alecrim, a word of Scandinavian origin (from Ellegren, the Elfin plant), which was probably carried south by the Vandals. Other authorities think that “Alecrim” comes from the Arabians. The reference to Rosemary occurs in a delightful passage. Borrow was staying at an inn, when one evening “in rushed a wild-looking man mounted on a donkey.... Around his sombrero, or shadowy hat, was tied a large quantity of the herb, which in English is called Rosemary.... The man seemed frantic with terror, and said that the witches had been pursuing him and hovering over his head for the last two leagues.” On making inquiries, Borrow was told that the herb was “good against witches and mischances on the road.” He treats this view with great scorn, but says: “I had no time to argue against this superstition,” and with charming naÏvetÉ admits that, notwithstanding his austerity, when, next morning at departure, some sprigs of it were pressed upon him by the man’s wife for his protection, “I was foolish enough to permit her to put some of it in my hat.” The Sicilians thought that it was a favourite plant of the fairies, and that the young fairies, taking the form of snakes, lie amongst the branches. Dill, able to “hinder witches of their will,” was used in spells against witches, besides being employed by them. There was a strong belief that plants beloved by magicians, and powerful for evil in their hands, were equally powerful to avert evil when used in charms against witchcraft. Lunary, or Honesty, is another plant with a double edge. In France it is nicknamed Monnaie du Pape and Herbe aux Lunettes, and its shining seed-vessels have many pet names in English. “It has a natural power of dispelling evil spirits,” quotes Mr Friend, and explains this verdict by pointing that Lunary with its great silver disks, called after the moon, is disliked and avoided by evil spirits, who fear the light and seek darkness. Rue is used by witches and against them; in some parts of Italy a talisman against their power is made by sewing up the leaves in a little bag and wearing it near the heart. If the floor of a house be rubbed with Rue it is certain that all witches must fly from it. In Argentina grows the Nightmare flower, Flor de Pesadilla. The witches of that region extract from it a drug which causes nightmare lasting all night long, and they contrive to give it to whoever they wish to torment. Besides these, Pennyroyal and Henbane, Chervil and Vervain, Poppies, Mandrakes, Hemlock and Dittany were specially used by witches in making spells. Valerian, Wormwood, Elder, Pimpernel, Angelica, and all yellow flowers growing in hedgerows are antagonistic to them. Their dislike to yellow flowers may have arisen from these being often dedicated to the sun, and being therefore repellent to lovers of gloom and mystery. Angelica preserved the wearer from the power of witches or spells, and is, I think, the only herb quoted by Gerarde as a power against witchcraft. He does not condescend generally to consider superstitions other than medical. Of the herbs dedicated to the Evil One are Yarrow, sometimes known as the Devil’s Nettle; Ground-Ivy, called his Candlestick, and Houseleek, which he has rather unjustly appropriated. Mr Friend explains that in Denmark, “Old Thor” is a polite euphemism, and that the Houseleek really belonged to Thor, but has been passed on through confusion between the two. Yarrow or Milfoil has been used for divination in spells from England to China.

Johnston[97] says: “Tansy and Milfoil were reckoned amongst plants averse to fascination; but we must retrograde two centuries to be present at the trial of Elspeth Reoch, who was supernaturally instructed to cure distempers by resting on her right knee while pulling ‘the herb callit malefour’ betwixt her mid-finger and thumbe, and saying of, ‘In nomen Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’”

Johnston gathers his information from Dalzell on the “Darker Superstitions of Scotland.”

Wormwood is in some parts of Europe called the “Girdle of St John,” it has so much power against evil spirits. Cumin is much disliked by a race of Elves in Germany, called the Moss-People. Dyer[98] tells us that the life of each one is bound up with the life of a tree, and if the inner bark of this is loosened, the elf dies. Therefore their precept is:—

On one occasion when a loaf baked with Cumin was given as an offering to a forest-wife, she was heard screaming—

The unhappy giver at once began to go downhill, and was soon reduced to abject misery! Elecampane is in Denmark called Elf-Dock. Flax-flowers are a protection against sorcery. “Flax[99] is supposed to be under the protection of the goddess Hulda, but the plant’s blue blossom is more especially the flower of Bertha, whose blue eyes shine in its calyx, and whose distaff is filled by its fibres.... It was the goddess Hulda who first taught mortals the art of growing flax, of spinning, and of weaving it.... Between KroppbÜhl and Unterlassen, is a cave which is believed by the country people to have been the entrance to Queen Hulda’s mountain palace. Twice a year she passed through the valley, scattering blessings around her path—once in summer, when the blue flowers of the Flax were brightening the fields, and again during the mysterious “twelve nights” immediately preceding our Feast of Epiphany, when, in ancient days, gods and goddesses were believed to visit the earth.” The Bohemians have a belief that if seven-year-old children dance among flax, they will become beautiful. From the little Fairy-Flax “prepared and manufactured by the supernatural skill, the ‘Good People’ were wont in the olden time to procure their requisite supplies of linen,” writes Johnston.

Wild Thyme is specially beloved by fairies and elves, and Fox-gloves and Wood-sorrel are also favourites,—Fox-gloves, being called in Ireland, Fairy-cap, and Wood-sorrel, known in Wales as Fairy-bells.

Among plants that have magic powers in themselves are two varieties of Pimpinella; the Anise and the Burnet Saxifrage. The first averts the Evil Eye, and the second is called in Hungary, “Chaba’s Salve,” because it is said that its virtues were discovered by King Chaba, who after a furious battle cured 15,000 of his soldiers with it. In IroÉ Grego’s book, it is advised that the sword of a magician should be bathed in the blood of a mole, and the juice of Pimpinella. De Gubernatis says that in Germany and in Rome, Endive-seed is sold as a love-philtre, and when wanted for this reason, the plant must be uprooted not with the hand but with a bit of gold, or stag’s horn (which symbolise the disk and rays of the sun) on one of the jours des ApÔtres, June 27th, St Peter’s Day, or July 25th, St James’ Day.

The Mustard-tree is called in Sanscrit, the Witch, for when Hindus want to discover a witch, they light lamps during the night, and fill vessels with water,[100] into which they gently drop Mustard-seed oil, pronouncing the name of every woman in the village. If, during the ceremony, as they pronounce the name of a woman, they notice the shadow of a female in the water, it is a sure sign that such a woman is a witch. Mugwort laid in the soles of the boots, will keep a man from weariness, though he walk forty miles. Wreaths of Camomile flowers hung up in a house on St John’s Day will, it is said in Prussia, defend it against thunder, and Wild Thyme and Marjoram laid by milk in a dairy will prevent it being “turned” by thunder. The root of Tarragon held between the teeth will cure toothache, and the name RÉsÉda, the family name of Mignonette, is supposed to be derived from the verb “to assuage,” for it was a charm against so many evils. If a sprig of Basil were left under a pot, it would, in time, turn to scorpions! It is a strange plant altogether. The ancient Greeks thought that it would not grow unless when the seed was sown railing and abuse should be poured forth at the same time. Much blossom on the broom foretells a plentiful harvest of corn. “Les anciens” according to La petite Corbeille believed that a pot of Gilly-flowers, growing in a window, would fade if the master of the house died; and similar curious sympathies in Sage and Honesty and Rosemary have already been noticed.

There is a belief in the West Country that no girl who is destined to be an old maid, can make a myrtle grow. Mr Friend does not mention this, but he does tell us that a flowering myrtle is one of the luckiest plants to have, and it is often difficult to grow; and he generously presents us with the receipt that he had heard given to make sure of its flowering. The secret is, while setting the slip, to spread the tail of one’s dress, and look proud!

To transplant Parsley is very unlucky, and to let Rhubarb run to seed will bring death into the family before a year is out. These beliefs are still active. One hears also that no one will have any luck with young chickens if they bring any blossom (of fruit-trees) into the house, which is, indeed, an unlucky thing to do at any time.

There was a fairly recent case in Gloucestershire, which showed that the idea still survives that if flower-seeds are sowed on Palm Sunday, the flowers will come out double.

Though Elder is not a herb, it cannot be omitted here, for every inch of an Elder-tree is connected with magic. This is especially the case in Denmark. First of all there is the Elder-tree Mother, who lives in the tree and watches for any injury to it. Hans Andersen tells a charming story about her and the pictures that she sometimes brings. It may happen, that if furniture is made of the wood, Hylde-Moer may follow her property and haunt and worry the owners, and there is a tradition that, once when a child was put in a cradle of Elder-wood, Hylde-Moer came and pulled it by the legs and would give it no peace till it was lifted out. Permission to cut Elder wood must always be asked first, and not till Hylde-Moer has given consent by keeping silence, may the chopping begin. He who stands under an Elder-tree at midnight on Midsummer-Eve will chance to see Toly, the King of the Elves, and all his retinue go by. “The pith of the branches when cut in round, flat shapes, is dipped in oil, lighted, and then put to float in a glass of water; its light on Christmas Eve is thought to reveal to the owner all the witches and sorcerers in the neighbourhood.”[101] The Russians believe that Elder-trees drive away evil spirits, and the Bohemians go to it, with a spell, to take away fever. The Sicilians think that sticks of its wood will kill serpents and drive away robbers better than any other, and the Serbs introduce a stick of Elder into their wedding ceremonies to bring good luck. In England it was thought that the Elder was never struck by lightning; and a twig of it tied into three or four knots, and carried in the pocket, was a charm against rheumatism. A cross made of Elder, and fastened to cow-houses and stables, was supposed to keep all evil from the animals. Canon Ellacombe, in the Tyrol, says: “An Elder bush, trimmed into the form of a cross, is planted in a new-made grave, and if it blossoms, the soul of the person lying beneath it is happy.” Sir Thomas Browne takes the “white umbrella or medical bush of Elder as an epitome of the order arising from five main stems, quincuncially disposed and tolerably maintained in their sub-divisions.” The number 5, and its appearance in works of Nature, must have occupied his mind at one time to a very great extent, judging from his writings. There is a saying that:—

And it is a common tradition that an Elder stake will last in the ground longer than an iron bar the same size. Several very different musical instruments have been alike named “Sambuke,” because they were all made out of Elder-wood. Elder-berries have also wonderful properties. In Styria, on “Bertha Night (6th January), the devil goes about with special virulence. As a safeguard persons are recommended to make a magic circle, in the centre of which they should stand, with Elder-berries gathered on St John’s night. By doing this, the mystic Fern-seed may be obtained, which possesses the strength of thirty or forty men. There are no instructions as to why or how the desired Fern-seed should arrive, and all the proceedings are somewhat mysterious.”

The most extraordinary collection of charms and receipts is to be found in an old book, called Le petit Albert; probably the contents are largely gleaned from out the wondrous lore set forth by Albertus Magnus. A charm—it must be a charm, for a mere recipe could hardly achieve such results, “pour s’enrichir par la pÊche des poissons” is made by mixing Nettles, Cinquefoil, and the juice of Houseleek, with corn boiled in water of Thyme and Marjoram, and if this composition is put into a net, the net will soon be filled with fish. Cinquefoil appears in many spells, particularly as a magic herb in love-divinations, and also against agues! Some parts of the book shed a lurid light on the customs of the day, as for instance, recipes “to render a man or woman insensible to torture.” Here is a less ghastly extract. “Je quitte des matiÈres violentes pour dire un Mot de Paix. J’ai lÛ dans le trÈs curieux livre des Secrets du Roi Jean d’Arragon, que si aucun dans le mois de septembre, ayant observÉ le temps que le soleil est entrÉ au signe de la Vierges a soin de cueillir de la fleur Soucy (Marigold) qu’a ÉtÉ appellÉ par les Anciens, Epouse du Soleil, and si on l’enveloppe dedans des feuilles de Laurier avec un dent de Loup, personne ne pourra parler mal de celui qui les portera sur luy et vivra dans un profonde paix et tranquillitÉ avec tout le monde.” There is an odd, little passage about the supernatural beings who inhabit the four elements, Salamanders, Nymphs, Sylphs, and Gnomes, and the practices of Lapland miners to obtain “la bienveillance des Gnomes.” This is managed through observing their love of perfumes. Each day of the week a certain perfume was burnt for them and these odours had an elaborate formula, compiled with reference to the planets. Thus Sunday’s perfume is “sous les auspices du soleil,” and contains Saffron and Musk; Monday’s is made of the Moon’s special plants and includes the seed of the White Poppy; and the ingredients for each are equally appropriate to the ruling planet. Mars has Hellebore and Euphorbia in his perfume; Venus, dried roses, red coral, and ambergris; and Saturn, black poppy seeds, Mandrake roots and Henbane. In an English translation (there are many editions of Le petit Albert) fifteen magical herbs of the Ancients are given, but I will only quote two.

“The eleventh hearbe is named of the Chaldees Isiphilon... or Englishmen, Centory... this hearbe hath a marvellous virtue, for if it be joined with the blood of a female lapwing or black plover and put with oile in a lamp, all they that compasse it about shall believe themselves to be witches, so that one shall believe of another that his head is in heaven and his feete on earth.”

“If ? the fourteenth hearbe, smallage, be bounden to an oxe’s necke, he will follow thee whithersoever thou wilt go.” The last instructions lead one to agree with the poet:

and when views of mine and thine were less rigid than they are to-day.