NORTH AMERICAN
Wild Flowers.
Painted and Lithographed
BY
Agnes Fitz Gibbon
WITH
BOTANICAL DESCRIPTIONS
BY
C. P. TRAILL.
AUTHORESS OF “THE BACKWOODS OF CANADA” “THE CANADIAN CRUSOES” ET.C. ET.C. CONTENTS.
PREFACE
TO THE
WILD FLOWERS OF NORTH AMERICA. The first and second edition of our Book of Wild Flowers was published last year under the title of “CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS;” but it has been suggested by some American friends that we ought not to have limited the title to the Wild Flowers of Canada, as nature has given them a much wider geographical range, and, in fact, there are none of those that have been portrayed and described in our volume but may be found diffused over the whole of the Eastern and Northern States of the Union, as well as to the North and West of the Great Lakes. We, therefore, have rectified the error in our present issue, not wishing to put asunder those whom the Great Creator has united in one harmonious whole, each family and tribe finding its fitting place as when it issued freshly forth from the bounteous hand of God who formed it for the use of His creatures and to His own honor and glory. As our present volume embraces but a select few of the Native Flowers of this Northern Range of the Continent, it is our intention to follow it by succeeding series, which will present to our readers the most attractive of our lovely Wild Flowers, and flowering shrubs. The subject offers a wide field for our future labours. What a garland of loveliness has nature woven for man’s admiration, and yet, comparatively speaking, how few appreciate the beauties thus lavishly bestowed upon them? The inhabitants of the crowded cities know little of them even by name, and those that dwell among them pass them by as though they heeded them not, or regarded them as worthless weeds, crying, “Cut them down, why cumber they the ground?” To such careless ones they do indeed “waste their sweetness on the desert air.” Yet the Wild Flowers have deeper meanings and graver teachings than the learned books of classical lore so much prized by the scholar, if he will but receive them. They shew him the parental care of a benificent God for the winged creatures of the air, and for the sustenance of the beasts of the field. They point to the better life, the resurrection from the darkness of the grave. They are emblems of man’s beauty and of his frailty. They lend us by flowery paths from earth to heaven, where the flowers fade not away. Shall we then coldly disregard the flowers that our God has made so wondrously fair, to beautify the earth we live on? Mothers of America teach your little ones to love the Wild Flowers and they will love the soil on which they grew, and in all their wanderings through the world their hearts will turn back with loving reverence to the land of their birth, to that dear home endeared to their hearts by the remembrance of the flowers that they plucked and wove for their brows in their happy hours of gladsome childhood. How many a war-worn soldier would say with the German hero of Schiller’s tragedy: “Oh gladly would I give the blood stained victor’s wreath For the first violet of the early spring, Plucked in those quiet fields where I have journeyed.” Schiller. DESCRIPTION OF THE TITLE PAGE.Our Artist has tastefully combined in the wreath that adorns her title page several of our native Spring Flowers. The simple blossoms of Claytonia Virginica, better known by its familiar name “Spring Beauty,” may easily be recognized from the right hand figure in the group of the first plate in the book. For a description of it see page 16. The tall slender flower on the left side on the title page is Potentilla Canadensis, (Var simplex). This slender trailing plant may be found in open grassy thickets, by road side wastes, at the foot of old stumps, and similar localities, with the common Cinquefoil or Silver Leaf. This last species is much the most attractive plant to the lover of wild flowers. It abounds in dry gravelly and sandy soil, courting the open sunshine, rooting among stones, over which it spreads its slender reddish stalk, enlivening the dry arid wastes with its silvery silken leaves and gay golden rose-shaped blossoms. The Potentilla family belongs to the same Natural Order, RosaceÆ, as the Strawberry, Raspberry, Blackberry and the Rose—a goodly fellowship of the useful and the beautiful among which our humble Cinquefoil has been allowed to find a place. The little plant occupying the lower portion of the plate is Viola sagittata, “Arrow Leaved Violet.” The anthers of the stamens are flesh coloured or pale orange; the slender pointed sepals of the calyx are of a bright light green, which form a lively contrast to the deep purple closely wrapped pointed buds that they enfold. The leaves are of a dull green, somewhat hairy, narrow, blunt at the apex, not heart-shaped as in many of the species but closed at the base and bordering the short channelled foot-stalk. Among our numerous species few are really more lovely than “the Arrow Leaved Violet.” Viola ovata and Viola villosa closely resemble the above, and probably are varieties of our pretty flower. The violet, like the rose and lily, has ever been the poet’s flower. This is not one of our earliest violets; it blossoms later than the early white violet, V. rotundifolia or than the early Blue Violet, V. cucullata, or that delicate species V. striata, the lilac striped violet, which adorns the banks and hill sides on some of our plain lands, early in the month of May. Later in this month and in the beginning of June we find the azure blossoms of V. sagittata in warm sheltered valleys, often among groups of small pines and among grasses on sandy knolls and open thickets. The plant grows low, the leaves on very short foot-stalks closely pressed to the ground; the bright full blue flowers springing from the crown of the plant on long slender stems stand above the leaves. The petals are blunt, of a full azure blue, white at the base and bearded. Among many allusions to this favourite flower, here are lines somewhat after the style of the older poets, addressed to early violets found on a wintry March day at Waltham Abbey. TO EARLY VIOLETS.
Children of sweetest birth, Why do ye bend to earth Eyes in whose softened blue, Lies hid the diamond dew? Has not the early ray, Yet kissed those tears away That fell with closing day?
Say do ye fear to meet The hail and driving sleet, Which gloomy winter stern Flings from his snow-wreathed urn? Or do ye fear the breeze So sadly sighing thro’ the trees, Will chill your fragrant flowers, Ere April’s genial showers Have visited your bowers?
Why came ye till the cuckoo’s voice, Bade hill and vale rejoice; Till Philomel with tender tone, Waking the echoes lone, Bids woodland glades prolong Her sweetly tuneful song; Till sky-lark blithe and linnet grey, From fallow brown and meadow gay, Pour forth their jocund roundelay; Till ‘cowslip, wan’ and ‘daisies pied’ ’Broider the hillock’s side, And opening hawthorn buds are seen, Decking each hedge-row screen?
What, though the primrose drest In her pure paly vest Came rashly forth To brave the biting North, Did ye not see her fall Straight ’neath his snowy pall; And heard ye not the West wind sigh Her requiem as he hurried by?
Go hide ye then till groves are green And April’s clouded bow is seen; Till suns are warm, and skies are clear And every flower that does appear, Proclaims the birthday of the year. Though Canada does not boast among her violets the sweet purple violet (Viola odorata) of Britain she has many elegant species remarkable for beauty of form and colour; among these “The Yellow Wool Violet,” the “Song Spurred Violet” and the “Milkwhite Wool Violet,” (V. Canadensis) may be named. These are all branching violets, some, as the yellow and the white, often attain, in rank shaded soil, to a foot in height and may be found throwing out a succession of flowers through the later summer months. They will bloom freely if transplanted to a shady spot in the garden.
Nat. Ord. RanunculaceÆ. “Lodged in sunny clefts, Where the cold breeze comes not, blooms alone The little Wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue, as the spring heaven it gazes at.” Bryant. THE American poet, Bryant, has many happy allusions to the Hepatica under the name of “Wind-Flower;” the more common name among our Canadian settlers is “Snow-Flower,” it being the first blossom that appears directly after the melting off of the winter snows. In the forest—in open grassy old woods, on banks and upturned roots of trees, this sweet flower gladdens the eye with its cheerful starry blossoms; every child knows it and fills its hands and bosom with its flowers, pink, blue, deep azure and pure white. What the daisy is to England, the Snow-flower or Liver-leaf is to Canada. It lingers long within the forest shade, coyly retreating within its sheltering glades from the open glare of the sun: though for a time it will not refuse to bloom within the garden borders, when transplanted early in spring, and doubtless if properly supplied with black mould from the woods and partially sheltered by shrubs it would continue to grow and flourish with us constantly. We have two sorts, H. acutiloba, and H. triloba. A large variety has been found on Long Island in Rice Lake; the leaves of which are five lobed; the lobes much rounded, the leaf stalks stout, densely silky, the flowers large, of a deep purple blue. This handsome plant throve under careful cultivation and proved highly ornamental. The small round closely folded buds of the Hepatica appear before the white silky leaves unfold themselves, though many of the old leaves of the former year remain persistent through the winter. The buds rise from the centre of a silken bed of soft sheaths and young leaves, as if nature kindly provided for the warmth and protection of these early flowers with parental care. Later in the season, the young leaves expand just before the flowers drop off. The white flowered is the most common among our Hepaticas, but varieties may be seen of many hues: waxen-pink, pale blue and azure blue with intermediate shades and tints. The Hepatica belongs to the Nat. Ord. RanunculaceÆ, the crow-foot family, but possesses none of the acrid and poisonous qualities of the Ranunculus proper, being used in medicine, as a mild tonic, by the American herb doctors in fevers and disorders of the liver. It is very probable that its healing virtues in complaints of the liver gave rise to its common name in old times; some assign the name to the form of the lobed leaf. “Fair Daffodils, we weep to see Thee haste away so soon, As yet the early rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay!— Until the hasting day Has run, But to the evening song; When having prayed together we Will go with you along.” Herrick. THIS slender drooping flower of early spring is known by the name of Bellwort, from its pendent lily-like bells; and by some it is better known as the Wood Daffodil, to which its yellow blossoms bear some remote resemblance. The flowers of the Bellwort are of a pale greenish-yellow; the divisions of the petal-like sepals are six, deeply divided, pointed and slightly twisted or waved, drooping from slender thready pedicels terminating the branches; the stem of the plant is divided into two portions, one of which is barren of flowers. The leaves are of a pale green, smooth, and in the largest species perfoliate, clasping the stem. The root (or rhizome) is white, fleshy and tuberous. The Bellwort is common in rich shady woods and grassy thickets, and on moist alluvial soil on the banks of streams, where it attains to the height of 18 or 20 inches. It is an elegant, but not very showy flower—remarkable more for its graceful pendent straw-coloured or pale yellow blossoms, than for its brilliancy. It belongs to a sub-order of the Lily Tribe. There are three species in Canada—the large Bellwort—Uvularia grandiflora and U. perfoliata—we also possess the third, enumerated by Dr. Gray, U. sessilifolia. Nat. Ord. RanunculaceÆ. “Within the wood, Whose young and half transparent leaves, Scarce cast a shade; gay circles of anemones, Danced on their stalks.” Bryant. THE classical name Anemone is derived from a Greek word, which signifies the wind, because it was thought that the flower opened out its blossoms only when the wind was blowing. Whatever the habits of the Anemone of the Grecian Isles may be, assuredly in their native haunts in this country, the blossoms open alike in windy weather or in calm; in shade or in sunshine. It is more likely that the wind acting upon the downy seeds of some species and dispersing them abroad, has been the origin of the idea, and has given birth to the popular name which poets have made familiar to the ear with many sweet lines. Bryant, who is the American poet of nature, for he seems to revel in all that is fair among the flowers and streams and rocks and forest shades, has also given the name of “wind flower” to the blue hepatica. The subject of our plate, the little white pink-edged flower at the left hand corner of the group, is Anemone nemorosa, the smaller “Wood Anemone.” This pretty delicate species loves the moderate shade of groves and thickets, it is often found in open pinelands of second growth, and evidently prefers a light and somewhat sandy soil to any other, with glimpses of sunshine stealing down upon it. The Wood Anemone is from 4 to 9 inches in height, but seldom taller, the five rounded sepals which form the flower are white, tinged with a purplish-red or dull pink on the outside. The leaves are three parted, divided again in three, toothed and sharply cut and somewhat coarse in texture; the three upper stem leaves form an involucre about midway between the root and the flower-cup. Our Wood Anemone is a cheerful little flower gladdening us with its blossoms early in the month of May. It is very abundant in the neighbourhood of Toronto, on the grassy banks and piny-dells at Dover Court, and elsewhere. “There thickly strewn in woodland bowers, Anemones their stars unfold.” A somewhat taller species, with very white starry flowers, is found on gravelly banks under the shade of shrubs near the small lakes formed by the Otonabee river, N. Douro, where also, we find the downy seeded species known as “Thimble-weed,” Anemone cylindrica, from the cylindrical heads of fruit. The “Thimble-weed” is not very attractive for beauty of colour; the flower is greenish-white, small, two of the sepals being shorter and less conspicuous than the others; the plant is from 1 to 2 ft. high; the leaves of the cut and pointed involucre are coarse, of a dull green, surrounding the several long flower-stalks. The soft cottony seeds remain in close heads through the winter, till the spring breezes disperse them. The largest species of our native Anemones is A. Virginiana, “Tall Anemone.” This handsome plant loves the shores of lakes and streams; damp rich ground suits it well, as it grows freely in such soil, and under moderate shade when transferred to the garden. The foliage of the tall Anemone is coarse, growing in whorls round the stem, divisions of the leaf three parted, sharply pointed and toothed. In this, as in all the species, the coloured sepals, (or calyx leaves) form the flower. The outer surface of the flower is covered with minute silky hairs, the round flattened silky buds rise singly on tall naked stems, the upper series are supplied with two small leaflets embracing the stalk. The central and largest flowers open first, the lateral or outer ones as these fade away; thus a succession of blossoms is produced, which continue to bloom for several weeks. The flowers of this sort, under cultivation, become larger and handsomer than in their wild state, ivory white, tinged with purple. The Anemone is always a favourite flower wherever it may be seen, whether in British woods, on Alpine heights, or in Canadian wilds; on banks of lonely lakes and forest streams; or in the garden parterre, where it is rivalled by few other flowers in grace of form or splendour of colour. Nat. Ord. PortulacaceÆ. Where the fire had smoked and smouldered Saw the earliest flower of Spring time, Saw the beauty of the Spring time, Saw the Miskodeed[1] in blossom. Hiawatha. THIS simple delicate little plant is one of our earliest April flowers. In warm springs it is almost exclusively an April flower, but in cold and backward seasons, it often delays its blossoming time till May. Partially hidden beneath the shelter of old decaying timbers and fallen boughs, its pretty pink buds peep shyly forth. It is often found in partially cleared beech-woods, and in rich moist meadows. In Canada, there are two species; one with few flowers, white, both leaves and flowers larger than the more common form; the blossoms of the latter are more numerous, smaller, and of a pale pink colour, veined with lines of a deeper rose colour, forming a slender raceme; sometimes the little pedicels or flower stalks are bent or twisted to one side, so as to throw the flowers in one direction. The scape springs from a small deep tuber, bearing a single pair of soft, oily, succulent leaves. In the white flowered species these leaves are placed about midway up the stem, but in the pink (C. Virginica) the leaves lie closer to the ground, and are smaller and of a dark bluish green hue. Our Spring Beauty well deserves its pretty poetical name. It comes in with the Robin, and the song sparrow, the hepatica, and the first white violet; it lingers in shady spots, as if unwilling to desert us till more sunny days have wakened up a wealth of brighter blossoms to gladden the eye; yet the first, and the last, are apt to be most prized by us, with flowers, as well as other treasures. How infinitely wise and merciful are the arrangements of the Great Creator. Let us instance the connection between Bees and Flowers. In cold climates the former lie torpid, or nearly so, during the long months of Winter, until the genial rays of the sun and light have quickened vegetation into activity, and buds and blossoms open, containing the nutriment necessary for this busy insect tribe. The Bees seem made for the Blossoms; the Blossoms for the Bees. On a bright March morning what sound can be more in harmony with the sunshine and blue skies, than the murmuring of the honeybees, in a border of cloth of gold crocuses? what sight more cheerful to the eye? But I forget. Canada has few of these sunny flowers, and no March days like those that woo the hive bees from their winter dormitories. And April is with us only a name. We have no April month of rainbow suns and showers. We miss the deep blue skies, and silver throne-like clouds that cast their fleeting shadows over the tender springing grass and corn; we have no mossy lanes odorous with blue violets. One of our old poets thus writes: “Ye violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known, Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own, What are ye when the rose is blown.”[2] We miss the turfy banks, studded with starry daisies, pale primroses and azure blue-bells. Our May is bright and sunny, more like to the English March; it is indeed a month of promise—a month of many flowers. But too often its fair buds and blossoms are nipped by frost, “and winter, lingering, chills the lap of May.” In the warmth and shelter of the forest, vegetation appears. The black leaf mould, so light and rich, quickens the seedlings into rapid growth, and green leaves and opening buds follow soon after the melting of the snows of winter. The starry blossoms of the hepatica, blood-root, bellwort, violets, white, yellow and blue, with the delicate Coptis (gold-thread), come forth and are followed by many a lovely flower, increasing with the more genial seasons of May and June. But our April flowers are but few, comparatively speaking, and so we prize our early Violets, Hepaticas and Spring Beauty.
Nat. Ord. LiliaceÆ. “And spotted Adders-tongue with drooping bell, Greeting the new-born spring.”
IN rich black mould, on the low banks of creeks and open woodlands, large beds of these elegant lilies may be seen piercing the softened ground in the month of April; the broad lanceolate leaves are beautifully clouded with purple or reddish brown, or sometimes with milky white. Each bulb of the second year’s growth produces two leaves, and between these rises a round naked scape, (or flower stem), terminated by a drooping yellow bell. The unfolded bud is striped with lines of dark purple. A few hours of sunshine and warm wind soon expands the flower, which is composed of six coloured sepals, recurved, which form a lily-like turbaned flower; each segment grooved, and spotted at the base, with oblong purplish brown dots. The outer surface of the sepals is marked with dark lines. The stamens are six; anthers, oblong; pollen of a brick-red, or dull orange colour, varying to yellow. The style is club-shaped; stigmas three, united. This elegant yellow lily bends downward when expanded, as if to hide its glories from the full glare of the sun-light. The clouded leaves are of an oily smoothness, resisting the moisture of rain and dew. The name Dogs-tooth Violet seems very inappropriate. The pointed segments of the bell may have suggested the resemblance to the tooth of a dog, but it is difficult to trace any analogy between this flower and the violet, no two plants presenting greater dissimilarity of form or habit than the lily and the violet, though often blended in the verse of the poet. The American name of the Adders-tongue is more significant.[3] The White Flowered Adders-tongue grows, it has been said, in the more western portion of Canada, on the shores of Lake Huron, probably the Erythronium albidum of Gray.
Sub Ord. TrilliaceÆ.—(Trillium Family.) |