MARIGOLD (Calendula officinalis). Shakespeare was devoted to the marigold. He always speaks of it with poetic rapture. The marigold that goes to bed with the sun And with him rises, weeping, is Perdita's idea of the shining flower, which in these few words she tells us closes its petals in the evening and at dawn awakens wet with dew. Then in the beautiful dawn-song in "Cymbeline" Hark! Hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden eyes; With everything that pretty is—My lady, sweet, arise: Arise, arise. "The Marygold," says Lyte, "hath pleasant, bright and shining yellow flowers, the which do close at the setting down of the Sun and do spread and open again at the Sun rising." And Lupton writes: "Some do call it Spousa Solis, In "The Rape of Lucrece" Shakespeare also mentions the flower: Her eyes, like marigolds, hath sheathed their light And canopied in darkness sweetly lay Till they might open to adorn the day. Very prettily the flower is introduced in Middleton and Rowley's "Spanish Gipsy": You the Sun to her must play, She to you the Marigold, To none but you her leaves unfold. Another old English name for the marigold was ruddes and a prettier one was the gold-flower, often called simply the gold or goold. Chaucer talks of "yellow Goldes." The name was still used in Elizabeth's day. "Colin Clout" has: But if I her like ought on earth might read, I would her liken to a crown of lilies, Upon a Virgin bride's adorned head, With roses dight and goolds and daffodillies. In Medieval times the monks gave to the gold-flower the prefix Mary, with the legend that the Virgin Mary loved to wear the flower in her bosom. Hence Shakespeare calls it "Mary-buds." Of Shakespeare's Marigolds Parkinson writes: "They are called Caltha of divers and taken to be that Caltha whereof both Virgil and Columella have written. Others do call them Calendula of the Kalends, that is the first day of the months, wherein they are thought chiefly to flower. And thereupon the Italians call them Fiori di ogni mese, that is the Flowers of Every Month. We call them in English generally Golds, or Marigolds. "The herb and flowers are of great use with us among other pot-herbs, and the flowers, either green or dyed, are often used in possets, broths and drinks; as a comforter of the heart and spirits; and to expel any malignant, or pestilential quality, gathered near thereunto. The Syrup and Conserve made of the fresh flowers are used for the same purpose to good effect." Parkinson divides marigolds unto two classes: single and double. "The garden Marigold," he says, "hath round green stalks, branching out from the ground into many parts, whereon are set long, flat green leaves, broader and rounder at the point than anywhere else. The flowers are sometimes very thick and double (breaking out of a scaly, clammy green head), composed of many rows of leaves, set so close together, one within another, that no middle thrum "There is no difference between this and the single Marigold but that the flowers are single, consisting of one row of leaves of the same color; either paler or deeper yellow, standing about a great brown thrum in the middle. Our gardens are the chief places for the double flowers to grow in." Another description is contained in the famous "Gardener's Labyrinth" by Didymus Mountain (Thomas Hill): "The Marigold, named of the herbarians Calendula, is so properly termed for that in every Calend and in each month this reneweth of the own accord and is found to bear flowers as well in Winter as Summer, for which cause the Italians name the same the flower of every month. But some term it the Sun's Spowse, or the follower of the Sun; and is of some named the Husbandman's Dial, in that the The Marigold is supposed to be the Chrysanthemum or gold-flower of the Greeks, the Heliotrope-solsequium; and the story goes that the flower was originally the nymph Clytie, who gazed all day upon the Sun with whom she had fallen in love. At length she was turned into the flower. "All yellow flowers," said St. Francis de Sales, "and above all Very charmingly does George Wither, a contemporary of Shakespeare, refer to this: When with a serious musing I behold The grateful and obsequious Marigold, How duly every morning she displays Her open breast when Phoebus spreads his rays; How she observes him in his daily walk, Still bending towards him her small slender stalk; How when he down declines she droops and mourns, Bedewed, as 'twere, with tears till he returns; And how she veils her flowers when he is gone. When this I meditate methinks the flowers Have spirits far more generous than ours. Margaret of Orleans, grandmother of Henri IV, knowing well the legend of the flower, chose for her device a marigold with the motto, je ne veux suivre que lui seul. In the reign of Henry VIII the marigold was often called "Souvenir" and sentimental ladies wore wreaths of marigolds mixed with the heartsease. To dream of marigolds denoted prosperity, riches, success, and a happy and a wealthy marriage. As the In a wholly Elizabethan spirit Keats sang: Open afresh your round of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds! Dry up the moisture from your golden lids, For great Apollo bids That in these days your praises should be sung On many harps, which he has lately strung; And when again your dewyness he kisses Tell him I have you in my world of blisses! So happly when I rove in some far vale His mighty voice may come upon the gale. The Shakespearian marigold must not be confused with the French marigold (Flos Africanus), called also Indian gilliflower, flower of Africa, and flower of Tunis. A long chapter on this marigold appears in Parkinson's book. This is the tightly rolled up little flower of irregular ragged petals, but of a rich, deep golden hue. Parkinson also speaks of the great Peruvian sunflower, which he admires greatly and describes with enthusiasm. We know it well as our common sunflower with its dark center and yellow rays—a magnificent specimen of the floral world, worthy of the adoration of the Incas and of more than we usually accord to it. LARKSPUR (Delphinium). "Lark's-heels trim," one of the flowers in the introductory song of "The Two Noble Kinsmen," is the Delphinium, also called larkspur, lark's-claw, lark's-toes, and knight's-spur. The generic name is derived from the Greek delphinium, because the buds were thought to resemble the form of a dolphin. As with many other plants, there were two kinds, the "wild" and the "tame"; and it was the wild kind that was "nourished up in gardens," according to Parkinson, who describes the plant as having "small, long, green leaves, finely cut, almost like fennel and the branches ending in a long spike of hollow flowers with a long spur behind them. They are of several colors: bluish purple, or white, or ash color, or red, paler or deeper, and parti-colored of two colors in a flower. "They are called diversely by divers writers as Consolida regulis, Calearis flos, Flos regius, Buccinum Romanorum, and Cuminum silvestre alterum Dioscoridis; but the most usual name with us is Delphinium. But whether it be the true Delphinium of Dioscorides, or the Poet's Hyacinth, or the Flower of Ajax, another place is fitter to discuss than this. We call them in English Larks-heels, Larkspurs, Larkstoes, or claws, and Monks-hoods. There is no A modern botanist remarks: "The gardener's ideal has been the full-flowered spike with a goodly range of colors on the chord of blue. We think of larkspur as blue. Some of these blues are pale as the sky, some pure cobalt, others indigo and still others are a strange broken blue, gorgeous and intense, yet impure, glittering on the surface as if it were strewn with broken glass, and sometimes darkened into red. The center of a larkspur is often grotesque; the hairy petals suggest a bee at the heart of a flower, and the flower itself looks like a little creature poised for flight. In structure the garden race has changed very little from the primitive type, though that type has wandered far from the simplicity of the buttercup, which names the RanunculacÆ. Whatever path of evolution the larkspur has trod, it is very clear that the goal at which it has arrived is cross-fertilization by means of the bee. At some time along the path the calix took on the duties of the corolla, became highly colored, developed a spur, while at the same time the corolla lessened both in size and in importance. The stamens mature before the pistil and are so placed that the bee cannot get at the honey without The name of Monk's-hood is also given to the Blue Helmet-flower, or aconite. Yellow Lark's-heels is a name our Elizabethan forefathers gave to the Nasturtium Indicum, a plant found in the West Indies and taken by the early Spanish explorers to Spain, whence it traveled to all parts of Europe. "It is now very familiar in most gardens of any curiosity," says Parkinson. "The likeness of this flower, having spurs, or heels, is of so great beauty and sweetness withall that my Garden of Delight cannot be unfurnished of it. The flowers are of an excellent gold yellow color and grow all along the stalks. In the middle of each of the three lower leaves there is a little long spot, or streak, of an excellent crimson color, with a long heel, or spur, behind, hanging down. The whole flower hath a fine small scent, very pleasing, which, being placed in the middle of some Carnations, or Gilloflowers (for they are in flower at the same time), make a delicious Tussiemussie, as they call it, or Nosegay, both for sight and scent. Monardus and others call it Flos sanguineus of the red spots in the flower, as This flower is phosphorescent and is said to emit sparks, which are visible in the dark. |